#why does his wrist hair make me feral?

[the-eyes-of-andyserkis]

#the noise #i made #hello good morning i'm fine #IT'S FINE #sir i'm going to need you to calm down #he cant keep getting away with this #why does his wrist hair make me feral? #how am i supposed to be able to focus?? #andy serkis #thinking about that old man again

[ghouljams]

Viking soap! Viking soap! Viking soap!

Grrrrrrrr Yes ok yes because I am feral for this idea and you're partially engaging a special interest of mine.

You spot him at the same moment he does you. A flash of blue eyes reflecting the shallow river, long hair shorn short on the sides, the fur the edges his clothes marks him as easily as the paint on his face. A viking. He stands as quickly as you step back, his eyes fixed on you. If he's here there must be more at your village. You know well enough that these men don't travel as solitary creatures.

You turn and run towards your home. You hear the crash of him through the forest behind you giving chase. Even knowing the land as well as you do the terrain is uneven, the roots are made to catch your feet, and the branches are low to obscure your vision. You don't have the deer's advantage of darting movement to keep you out of reach. Each step you can hear him getting closer, until you feel his hands grab you.

The man, the viking, catches you around your middle. You kick and scream and make every effort to batter him with your fists, to make yourself difficult prey. You've heard enough stories about what these men do to know you want no part of it. He lifts you, hauls you up off the ground as you fight and twist.

"Would you be still, I'm not going to hurt you," The man tells you in gaelic. You freeze at the familiar tongue.

"You're a liar," You push at him, claw at his grip, "why would you chase me if you weren't hunting me?"

"Why would you run?" He asks, grabbing your wrists to pin them against his chest. You glare at him, your chest heaving as you gather your breath back. He's handsome, for a viking. There's something sort of rakish about the stubble on his face and the set of his brow. "Did I do something to scare you, bonnie?" It's not an honest question, he knows full well why you'd run.

You keep quiet, keep your glare level with him. An easy task with him holding you up, his arm hooked around your thighs. His head tips back to look at you with a smile. "Aren't you pretty," He whispers, hardly phased by the run or your anger. When you don't respond he seems to find his head again, his smile dropping to something more serious.

"Fine, courting later, business now." He sets you back down, keeping a tight grip on your wrists now that you've proven yourself a runner. "I'm here to negotiate a trade, I need an escort," He explains, though you would think a man needing an escort would have a shorter handle on the ax at his hip.

"A bad liar," You amend your previous statement, tugging at his hold.

"Fine," He relents, "I want an escort. Escort me." He insists, tugging you against his chest again. You're really getting tired of bumping into him.

"Why? So you can lead a raiding party back as soon as I turn around?" You spit.

“To what end?” The viking asks, tips his head to the side, his eyes hard on you, “What use do we have for dead healers?” 

You stop your struggling, stunned. He’s not wrong, but he speaks to an understanding of your village you hadn’t expected. How much did this man and his company know about you? How many scouts had walked your paths, watched your neighbors work? He’s right, dead healers are useless, but so are port healers. Vikings are only as strong as their weakest man, wouldn’t they prefer to keep healers on hand?

“You said-” You swallow, “You said you were here to negotiate a trade. What- A trade for what?” He looks away from you, and you have your answer. You were right to run, he’s here for one of you.

“Let’s go,” He doesn’t pull you, but you follow him anyway. Your mind races, thinking through the people your elders would offer up. Who was the most skilled, the most expendable, weighing what you might get in return. What couldn’t these vikings offer you? Safety, rare goods, money, animals, friendship. Invaluable intangible things that would aid all of you, for whatever price they set. It’s still only the illusion of a choice.

Your wrist is still held tight in his grip as you walk beside him. An escort, what a joke. You’re not going to put in a good word for him or do anything more than act as a pass for him to walk your streets. You’re busy working on your escape plan when you smell it.

Smoke, just as you step clear of the forest.

"Gods," the man breathes, both of you standing on top of the hill at the edge of the forest, watching your home burn. Your eyes grow wide watching the fleeing shadows of raiders, the sacrifices of you kin. What are they doing? Why would they- A mass of fire belches from the center of your village, the man covers your eyes, shields you from the heat of it with his cloak. The tattered tartan catches your attention, makes your heart pound in your chest. You recognize it, Mactavish. He was one of you.

"We have to go," He tells you. You try to pull yourself free, scream for your family down the hill. He catches you around the middle again, hauls you back into the safety of the forest. 

"Tell them to stop," you beg. Your sobbing pleas fall on deaf ears.

“Those aren’t my men,” He doesn’t set you down, transfers your squirming to his shoulder with a grunt and keeps his pace. You can still see the lick of flame and smoke through the trees. The only home you’ve ever known, gone in an instant and all you can do is watch. The forest grows thicker around you as you lay against the familiar unfamiliar tartan and let yourself be carried off like a spoil.

#I'm gonna close the ask box if y'all keep giving me aus #Just so you know this would be a slow burn like Knight Ghost #but I have a few scenes in mind #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap modern warfare #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x you #soap x reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x you #cod x reader #x reader #this fic brought to you by De Selby parts 1 and 2 #viking!soap #I should rename my medieval to just historic

[saewrq]

You’ve never been to Satoru’s apartment, so when you suddenly got a call from Gakuganji basically yelling at you to collect Satoru from his bed. You couldn’t think straight.

Working with Satoru for about 2 years now, you couldn’t help but notice a slight crush you had on him. His charisma, the way he actually cared for his students, and his stupidly shiny blue eyes.

Making my way out of my apartment, I slightly groan thinking about how i’d even get into his apartment. “Does this idiot not have an alarm?” I question out loud, clearly not pleased.

Surprisingly, his apartment wasn’t as far as I expected. Getting out of the car I make my way up the stairs repeating Satoru’s apartment number “107.”

Knocking normally first, I wait for any sign of life. Knocking harder this time, I assume he’s just a hard sleeper. But when he doesn’t answer for the 4th time. I can’t help but blow his doorknob off.

“Satoru?” I say, keeping a small voice. “Satoru, Gankuganji sent me to get you.” I say louder this time letting him know it wasn’t a random person. I slowly make my way through the apartment. The last thing i’d want is a hole in my body.

Pushing the door to the only bedroom, I see Satoru laid out on his bed. Somehow still asleep. I could also hear his phone vibrating somewhere out of sight.

His usual white hair falling over his face, shaping it perfectly. Slowly creeping up, I notice his lips are slightly parted. He looks so adorable.

“What the fuck.” I say out loud out of habit, but quickly regretting it. Covering my mouth with my hand immediately, Satoru starts to groan.

“Y/n?” His voice is raspy, and I can tell he’s barely gotten any sleep. “Satoru? How’d you know it was me me.” I say, knowing I hadn’t said my name but only one of the higher ups.

“Your perfume is always loud.” He says, his head on the pillow looking me up and down. I shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

He was just asleep, He’s lower than me, but I feel so small in his presence. “M’ but Satoru, you look really tired, i’ll just tell them I couldn’t find you.” I say giving him a smile while opening my phone to text Gankuganji.

“You’re too cute y/n.” He says, and I can just see the slick smirk on his face. “H-huh??” I yell slightly skipping backwards, clearly not expecting that compliment. “I mean it.” Satoru says slowly sitting up on the bed.

“Hm? well if i’m too cute you know where I am, see ya.” I say, not wanting to stick around any longer. Because if I did, I don’t think i’d be able to get myself out of the situation.

“Wait.” Satoru says, immediately clasping his hand on my wrist. “Eh? What’s wrong now baby.” I joke walking closer to the bed, which Satoru was practically falling off of.

Satoru pulls me in closer, my legs between his. We’ve always joked and played around, but this was more intimate.

Satoru snaked his arms around my waist pulling his head into my stomach.

“I don’t want you to go.”

A/N: Why am I lowkey going feral?

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #jjk headcanons #gojo drabbles

[throwaway-yandere]

The Owner Who Broke The Leash (Yandere!Kamisato Ayato/Reader)

a/n: this is a chainsaw man au but I tried writing it so that you don't need to be an anime/manga reader (suffer with me.) I'm not 100% following the source material, so Beidou and Kazuha are platonic & no mother-child themes the orig has people debate over. I won't be explaining the latter to those who did not understand lmao. (Y/n)'s 20 years old. This is just a yandere fic, relax hehe. also, huge shoutout to @navxry for beta reading, their insights were helpfull!!! and also shoutout because honestly nothing is more fulfulling like seeing a live commentary of roasting the yanderes and for some reason, my husband too sorry dain-

cw: yandere themes and degrading nicknames ("dog"), and dont read while eating ig?

unreliable synopsis: "Thank you, Mr. Kamisato," (Y/n) mumbled. "It's just... I'm still pretty pissed by what happened. I had an absolute shit first kiss–"

Kamisato Ayato questioned whether he had a heart in his head because, on occasion, it beats louder than the one cradled by his ribs. Or perhaps he's just grown incredibly susceptible to human emotions– or in this scenario: "headaches." Then again, in a world where 7 out of every 20 Inazuman citizens are killed by Devils in a concerningly short duration, is it really surprising that Ayato would experience such distress?

The Public Safety Devil Hunters have often questioned their limits throughout the years. Many of them have hardened themselves into pawns who seek glorified kinds of justice and retribution with the limited and declining manpower they have. As a result, they needed people like Kamisato Ayato, a mystifying man who presented himself as a gregarious yet reticent individual regarded either with respect or distaste. 

Only a few people have gone insane, which he and the captain of Division 4, Dainsleif, considered to be regrettable. They both had a strong conviction that complete sanity was inappropriate for a devil hunter. The rational and sensible are not in demand in this profession. Only those who have lost their sense of humanity can remain alive with their limbs intact. Many disputed Dainsleif's claims, questioning how could they be true. And to this, he answered:

"What does sanity truly mean when demanded of you by a Devil?"

Unfortunately, not many people understood the significance of that puzzling question, and even if they did, they rejected this way of thinking. Losing one's sanity is equivalent to losing what kept many alive–

And then…

There's (Y/n).

"Holy shiiiiiit!!!" (Y/n) spat out with their mouth full as they gouged the poor leftover traces of udon from the bowl, fully savoring what drops can be salvaged. They tilted their wrist and licked the remaining noodles, which made Mr. Kamisato's associates raise an eyebrow. Their unbrushed hair would sometimes cover their eyes, making them appear more monstrous and feral.

That was enough to know that in an instant, (Y/n) was endowed with a life that was blessed— at least, in physiological matters.

Despite their disheveled clothes and messy hair, anyone would've mistaken them for a somewhat functional human being. Ayato was quite pleased to dress them up after finding them bloodied and dazed. Not that the zombie devil was ever considered a formidable foe, but seeing the Chainsaw Devil in action is enough grounds for fascination, yes?

The Chainsaw Devil… What name does his "family" go by nowadays? What does the "Fixer of Hell" do around this era?

And why did he form a contract with this… mess of a human being? Why did the Chainsaw Devil agree to become this person's heart replacement?

Why didn't the devil let them perish?

Kamisato Ayato has been dying to know–

"Is this what you devil hunters eat every day?" (Y/n) gawked at him, who was snapped back to reality by their childlike antics. "Seems pretty fucking worth it to me. Those jackasses must be ripping me off if I did the same work for less than, what, two eighty percent? I don't know jack-shit about math, though. Unless it's about calculating debt."

"Is that right?"

When (Y/n) eliminated the Zombie Devil, the public safety officer was able to locate the "dog" in person. Fortunately, he just so happened to know that there was a devil in the vicinity and saw (Y/n) covered in blood. Surely, finding out that the Chainsaw Devil became (Y/n)'s heart via a contract was a mere coincidence in Mr. Kamisato's perspective. He's a cunning being, but not omnipotent, yes?

"Duh," their nose scrunched. "Gotta pay my dead dad's debt somehow. The sins of the Father are the sins of the... I forgot the rest of the line."

"Hmm."

To say (Y/n) is the… most entertaining person is the understatement of the decade. They exude none of the dignity of an ordinary civilian when bringing up their lack of rudimentary mathematical abilities and literary knowledge. Like a child who was isolated in their room for so long, (Y/n) was the type of clumsily put-together person you wouldn't expect to pique Ayato's interest. 

Yet here he is, answering them with something far from a business smile.

Ayato was entertained by their awkwardly talkative behavior and flushed cheeks.

(Y/n) has a crush on him. He's certain.

He can make use of that.

"We take care of our workers, yes," Ayato smoothly replied. His gaze did not falter away from the more-than-exploited hybrid. Hidden behind his stare was an obsession he had yet to add a label to. There's a strangely human urge for him to wipe the stray noodle off their chin.

They failed to see his soft gaze and continued to mindlessly ask nonsensical questions.

"P-Peanut butter and jelly too?"

"If they so desired it. I do not see why they cannot afford to buy some with their paycheck."

"Woah."

They looked incredibly amazed, if not, pathetically deprived. It made Ayato even more curious– just what life was this poor dog living if they craved incredibly simple joys?

And… peanut butter? Was that ever considered peak luxury? What a miserable life. Dead mother, murdered father– and a poor heart condition to match. He'll never consider their living conditions humane.

"Dog," Ayato thought to himself. "Positively a dog."

So faithful. So easily handled. 

Just as the Public Safety Devil Hunter had hoped for.

Humans are strange creatures and even more challenging to please. Ayato noticed that people attract others when they're unfortunate yet not far enough where they're "beyond saving". Balancing that fine line is a hindrance. Humans strive for authenticity but retreat when it causes discomfort— running away from the empty or broken bits that reflect their innermost selfish beliefs. These people will probe for trauma and unfavorable emotions to relate to, but won't exert control to change or challenge the speaker. 

They want a "palatable" story– a "marketable" person.

Kamisato Ayato didn't enjoy how hypocritical humanity is. Perhaps that's why he connected with (Y/n) instantaneously. 

Because (Y/n) was no longer human.

They're a devil-human hybrid. There's nothing for (Y/n) to mask, and most importantly, they're so damn easy to please.

Ayato glanced at his wristwatch. 

It's nearly time for tea with his fellow commissioners.

He closed his eyes and sighed softly. There was no latent vitriolic expression on his face, but that did not mean Ayato cared for his colleagues deeply.

They're all dogs in his eyes.

"Let us depart, (Y/n)."

And (Y/n) might be the best one yet.

Mr. Kamisato stood up and ruffled their hair.

"Come. Be a good dog and perhaps I'll spoil you with as many treats as you desire."

—-------------------

"Holy shit…" (Y/n) muttered to themselves.

"Today, I'm going to experience my first kiss ever…"

"Oh, a kiss you say?"

"M-Mister Kamisato?!"

It's been a while since Mr. Kamisato saw (Y/n), and they exude a brighter aura than before.

He's not pretentious enough to say (Y/n) had grown so much since he last saw them. There are qualities to them (he wouldn't say redeemable) that Ayato was certain weren't there in the past. After assigning them as Kaedehara Kazuha's subordinate and roommate, (Y/n) rehabilitated to the norms of public safety devil hunters. There were some setbacks, including the time they refused to kill a devil because they were naive enough to consider them as friends. But here they were, inside a busy restaurant after a month of dispatching (Y/n) to their new job– new life.

And won't you look at that?

Ayato's gaze softened as it sank in how much his influence had changed them over the months.

They… look radiant, don't they?

(Y/n) stood up, shocked that the refined public safety officer would be joining them. No one told them that he was invited. The rest of Division 4 followed suit, extending their pleasantries to their superior. The only exception was Beidou, who spoke nothing as she continued chugging her beer. Ayato greeted them and gracefully slipped away from his black cloak and placed it on the chair.

They remained standing until Ayato reached out and ruffled their hair.

"Sit."

And so they did.

Mr. Kamisato's grin widened.

"Good dog." He said.

…

Good dog…?

For a moment, the world was on mute for Mr. Kamisato.

And in that personal silence, he pondered to himself:

Why does he care so much about a dog?

It matters not since they will always remain a dog in his eyes. The day he stops calling them a dog and treating them as one is the day he'll forget about the "Fixer of Hell."

"(Y/n)..."

Ayato turned to look at the woman who moaned.

Beidou was one of his favorite dog's new coworkers alongside Kazuha, Kaveh, Al Haitham, the blood-fiend Arataki "Numero Uno" Itto, and the rest. Unlike the aforementioned four, Beidou often regarded Ayato as a "manipulative bastard" while her long-time partner, Kazuha, felt that there is a certain level of melancholy about him that they repeatedly failed to comprehend. Kazuha had a better sense of the world than his dear old eye-patched friend, but even he finds Ayato unpredictable.

Ayato doesn't mind her hostility and their wariness, not when they took great care of his pet on their latest mission. 

Yet, he's holding back a glare.

"(Y/nnnnnn)..."

He doesn't appreciate the way her hand repeatedly traveled down his dog's thigh.

"H-Hey, you're d-drunk–" (Y/n) kept "discreetly" glancing at Ayato, worried. "Q-Quit it! Y-You're making me uncomfortable, man–"

"Shhhhh!" Beidou hushed in a low and seductive tone. 

"Just wait, (Y/n), I give better kisses when I'm far from sober."

Ayato's eye twitched.

How intriguing.

"W-WH-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!!–"

"Your reward for killing the Eternity Devil, you scallywag~" She hiccupped, red-faced. "Kiss, with tongue, re-mem-ber?"

Mr. Kamisato closed his eyes, clenching his fists beneath the table as his colleagues drank and ate to their hearts' content. She's drunk. She'll likely regret those words tomorrow.

For a moment, he wished he could drown himself in Kaveh's talks about wearing his father's hand-me-downs or staying in Public Safety for the paycheck. Or maybe hone in on how Itto kept adding zeros to his IQ when asked. 

But his whole being was focused on this peculiar conversation.

Suppose a lonesome dog will latch on to any attention it will get.

"K-Kiss…" (Y/n) squeaked.

Don't be so overjoyed.

Ayato desperately wanted to say.

Can't you tell that between the two of us, it's me who you would choose in a heartbeat?

"Who's kissing who now?" Ayato raised his hand, calling for the waiter while staring at the morally conflicted (Y/n). "A glass, please."

(Y/n) paused, not looking at both Ayato and Beidou. They were deep in thought, assessing the situation as though it was their most life-threatening moment. 

Good.

They perked up again, somewhat sweating.

"U-Uh, Mr. Kamisato! H-Have you heard? I found an important metal-piece thing and grabbed it!"

Ayato no longer held back a defeated sigh and clenched his fists under the table.

… Disappointing. 

So they have chosen to ignore his confrontation instead of turning down Beidou's advances. Shame. Ayato's face contorted, but no one noticed his dismay other than Kaveh, who did not know what to make of it at the time.

"Yes, I have, and what fine news it was indeed. Excellent work. Oh, to have been a fly in the wall..."

Seeing as that "piques" his interest, Kazuha leaned his elbows on the table.

"While we're on the topic, Mister Kamisato…" 

Kazuha proceeded to add more to the subject, calmly stating all the information and inferences the group had acquired after the last mission. The "metal-piece" thing (Y/n) found was a portion of the Gun Devil, and Kazuha blabbered about how it appeared that (Y/n) had been targeted by many devils.

"–somehow (Y/n) is at the crux of everything. You know something that we do not, right Mister Kamisato?"

It's only natural for Kazuha to act this way. (Y/n) had no formal training yet fought the Eternity Devil for three days without rest. They had even utilized the Chainsaw Devil's ("Thoma" was its new name) power to torture them nonstop. Devils regenerate by drinking blood so they grained the Eternity devil regularly, yelling and taunting it like a maniac. So in Kazuha's conclusion, (Y/n) was not only stranger than they suppose; they are stranger than they can suppose.

Division 4's and Ayato's main objective is to hunt this "Gun Devil", but there's no need to mind such trifles. At least Makoto is dead. That's one battle won.

Ayato gazed at Kazuha, then his drink.

"What an interesting notion. How about a game?" Ayato placed a finger on his lip. "What do they call this… was it called hot pot? Hmm… No matter." 

"The mechanics of the game is to outdrink your opponent," Ayato smiled. "Will you accept this duel?"

As if on time, Beidou placed her empty glass down, making Kazuha just a bit more confident to take the risk. Kazuha nodded.

"Excuse me! Two sakes, please!"

Beidou, who would've normally banned Kazuha from drinking because of his height and not his adult age, yelled on top of her tops.

"HE-HE-HEYYY!!! MAKE IT THREEEE!!! I'LL PLAY THE DAMN GAME TOO!!!"

"MORE SASHIMI!!! THERE BETTER NOT BE A BEAN MIXED IN THERE!!!" Itto demanded soon after.

"I-I'd take a plate of sweet potatoes and cheese, please!" Kaveh humbly requested, fixing his red hairclips.

"HEY WAIT, ME TOO!!! MORE TEMPURA TOO!!!" (Y/n) followed, causing Al Haitham to cover his ears. 

Ayato smirked, drinking his mug. He already knows how this will end.

—--------------

Just a few drinks in, Kazuha proved his humanity by slowly fluttering his eyes to sleep.

Both Kazuha and Beidou failed to defeat Ayato in his game, albeit the latter wasn't trying their best. The others lost focus on the match when they knew Ayato had secured victory the moment he gave the mechanics. It's hopeless. Even a newbie such as the salt-and-pepper haired man knew it was a battle whose result had long been decided. 

"Excuse me, sir," Ayato smiled, smug. "May I have another drink, please?"

Mr. Kamisato retrieved his umpteenth beer, eager to take a sip but as soon as he had it in his hands, that woman chimed in again. 

She kissed them.

…

"... Goodness," Ayato muttered emptily.

That bold woman kissed what's his.

Ayato shook his head slightly, drinking his glass with a malicious glint in his eyes. As that woman aggressively thrust her tongue inside (Y/n)'s mouth, his dog shook, peering over the unimpressed Mr. Kamisato. He made it known to them that he was not pleased by this front-row display of "affection", but (Y/n) made little effort to stop it. He heard her moan and scrutinized the way she yanked their collar to deepen the "kiss", closing all distance between them.

He could've sworn the mug cracked a bit so he loosened his hold. Mr. Kamisato had felt another "headache" settling in as he watched that filth violate his pet with perverse pleasure. He snarled quietly.

What a low-quality "treat".

"Is this what you call a reward?" Ayato muttered. 

She must taste horrible. 

His (Y/n) must feel horrible.

Surely they wouldn't enjoy being taken by another person? 

Yet they're melting in her arms. 

Ayato scoffed.

What an unpleasant sight.

He felt... unsettled and restless.

Suddenly, they pulled away. Ayato was almost impressed (relieved) until he saw the reason behind (Y/n)'s distress. That kiss was disgusting, and everyone at that table will reasonably agree on that after seeing what had happened to (Y/n).

"HAHAHAHAHA!" The blood fiend laughed heartily. "IT'S IN THEIR MOUTH!!! IT'S IN THEIR MOUTH!!!"

That disgusting acidic liquid…

Itto elbowed Al Haitham beside him.

"AND YA BOYS KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN ANYTHING NUTRITIOUS GETS INSIDE (Y/N)'S MOUTH?!?"

Mr. Kamisato stood up and immediately pulled (Y/n) away from Beidou, pampering their lips with tissues and scrubbing the remains of that wench. His eyes sharpened as (Y/n) leaned into his touch, trembling while grabbing his white dress shirt. Ayato ignored how he would've normally felt a twinge of disgust over the stains they left on his clothes and gently cradled them; his focus now aimed at Beidou– disregarding how the other members laughed or visibly shivered at the sight.

… it's puke.

"THEY SWALLOW IT!!!"

Ayato's eyelids lowered as he heard (Y/n) gulped Beidou's vomit involuntarily, cringing while sobbing– gagging. Itto's laughter drowns out any sounds of concern. (Y/n) hands flew to their throat, clawing to spit everything out as the others watched. 

Is this… what people call "headaches"?

How dare she.

She dared not only steal his dog's first kiss but also dared to vomit inside them. Beidou had publicly disrespected what was under his control.

His eyes were emptier than before.

Unacceptable.

He did not fail to notice the others in the room as well. Kazuha jolted up awake at the commotion and searched for a tissue immediately. Some watched out of morbid curiosity like Al Haitham, while there’s people who nervously laughed without knowing what to do like Kaveh, and the rest hollered with the blood fiend. 

The last category was filled with employees who had been in the department long enough to know Beidou’s antics. As one of them had told (Y/n) before the party started, Beidou had kissed nearly everyone in the room they’re in already when drunk. Couple that fact with how these colleagues have most of their sanity stripped away and live their lives unhinged, and you got yourself a group of people who no longer processes traumatic events as it is. To them, this is comedy.

The superior Public Safety Devil Hunter shifted his glare to them, effectively halting their laughter.

Mr. Kamisato will be keeping an eye on them.

He knows their names and their faces.

“Tch.”

Ayato roughly dabbed their mouth, cooing at his traumatized (Y/n) as the others looked out for Beidou. (Y/n)'s hands remained locked on their esophagus as if pushing out the last remaining toothpaste from the tube. Pitiable. And somehow, for ones with a sadistic inclination as he does, charming–

No.

Get it out.

Get it all out without hurting what's his.

Scrub every last trace of that woman out of them.

Mr. Kamisato let go of the tissue and brought his thumb against (Y/n)'s lips. Their breath hitched as his ministrations differed greatly from before. Instead of something so intense and near degrading, the way Ayato wiped the stains was warm. Intimate.

Yet Ayato's permanent polite smile betrayed his thoughts.

Blindfolds. Hands. Kneel. Blindfolds. Hands. Kneel.

Squish.

He closed his eyes.

Ayato did not care for whatever happens to Beidou next– she can get killed by a devil next week for all he cares– but he will not allow anything of this sort to occur ever again.

"Oh, my dearest (Y/n)," this time, he smiled not to seem normal but to comfort. And such a genuine gesture scared Ayato deep down. "Allow me to help you get it off your system, okay?"

Finally, their coworkers fully acknowledged (Y/n)'s plight. Kazuha was the first to lend his handkerchief, something Ayato made a mental note of. Kaveh turned around instead. The hairs in the blonde's arms certainly stood the straightest. In response, Al Haitham rolled his eyes over how squirmish his fellow recruit was.

"I have a grandmother who often vomits, perhaps–" 

Kaveh immediately cut off Al Haitham, "Wait, you're actually volunteering to help?"

He shrugged. "No, I was merely offering advice on how to–"

Ayato snapped.

"I'll take care of this. Alone."

Ayato's grip on (Y/n) tightened, pulling them close to his chest protectively. He can sense them eager to cough out the vile shoved down their throat but sweetly, he will not give a damn if they released all that in his chest. Ayato led their head on his shoulder. His hand ran through their scalp, soothing them.

Every decision Kamisato Ayato makes is final.

He needn't hear more of their so-called input.

They don't need you.

His (Y/n) does not need ANY of you.

Slowly, Ayato tilted the nauseous (Y/n)'s chin.

"You'll let me take control, won't you, love?"

They nodded, tears in the corner of their eyes. Charmingly weak. A reflection of their humanity. The humanity Ayato did not care about for so long.

"Good do–" Ayato stopped himself.

"Good," he chuckled. "Just good. Now, follow me to the restroom."

He didn't let (Y/n) interact with anyone else that night.

—----------

That incident occurred yesterday, and it was still fresh in their memory. 

(Y/n) had been especially gloomy as of late and had been ordered to never talk to Beidou until permitted by Mr. Kamisato. Instead of staying at Kazuha's apartment with Itto, Ayato made arrangements so that they'll have a room in his government-owned apartment. The man from then on refuses to let them out unless a mission requires them. It rattled (Y/n). In a sense, they were like a dog caged for a vase they did not break. 

Like most mistreated dogs, they whined silently. Which were sounds that never go unnoticed by caring owners. 

And all caring owners will prioritize their pets more than their phone ringing.

Ayato immediately muted his phone.

42 missed calls from Mr. Kaedehara, 36 from Ms. Beidou, and 11 from Kaveh.

He swiped their text notifications all away and faced it down on the table.

"(Y/n), my dear," Ayato began in a soft voice as he set down his boba tea and the take-out for tonight's meal. "Something troubles you. Though you may not wish to share at the moment, know that I am here for you should you ever need an ear."

(Y/n) looked up with gratitude in their eyes. Although they were not vocal about it like they usually are, they did not expect Mr. Kamisato to be perceptive and kind enough to acknowledge their demeanor.

"Thank you, Mr. Kamisato," (Y/n) mumbled. "It's just... I'm still pretty pissed by what happened. I had an absolute shit first kiss–"

They sobbed, voice cracking.

"–and even if I kiss a bunch of other women or guys in the future, I'll probably never get that taste of vomit off my mind, won't I?"

The room went quiet, and Ayato's shoulders dropped at their pitiful sounds.

He retrieved his cup of boba milk tea on the table again and silently placed it in front of (Y/n), aligning the straw in the direction of their lips.

"I understand," Ayato replied. "Sometimes, wounds of the heart take time to heal. But remember, there is a chance to create beautiful memories within every setback. Now open your mouth."

With a sigh, they took a sip of the boba milk tea, the taste of blueberry cheesecake tantalizing their tastebuds. (Y/n) relaxed, the tension in their body dissipating. However, as if urged to see their discomfort yet again out of perverse pleasure, Ayato spoke once more.

"You will likely never erase the taste of vomit in your mind for all eternity."

(Y/n)'s eyebrows furrowed.

"However," Ayato cupped their cheek, forcing them to share his gaze.

"Now that you will forever live with me, you will have the chance to taste a wide variety of new flavors to the point you will never have to recall that unpleasant taste again." 

As they savored the comforting flavor, Ayato's eyes twinkled mischievously, and a small smile tugged at his lips. He chuckled. 

"And I would like you to take notice, (Y/n)," he began playfully, "that this delightful boba tea we're sharing is the taste of your first indirect kiss."

Surprised, (Y/n) messily choked on their drink, spluttering the content in their white shirt as embarrassment colored their cheeks red. Ayato chuckled softly, reaching out to pat (Y/n)'s back gently as they recovered.

That adorable expression. It beats that of a dog.

Their blush is human.

(Y/n) is human.

As (Y/n) wiped the sweet taste on their lips, they couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of hope, knowing that Mr. Kamisato will be there for them. Their lingering disappointment remains, that much is certain, but it will disappear in time. (Y/n) drank until the cup was emptied. It was a symbol of Mr. Kamisato's promise to make the taste of puke a distant memory and that–

In the end, everything will be alright.

He likes them. He's certain.

(Y/n) can make use of him.

Give Mr. Kamisato a chance, dearest (Y/n).

He'll add Ms. Beidou's death to his list of things to check off in your next assignment. 

Not only that, of course. She won’t be the only one that’ll keep him busy. He has not forgotten the faces of those who laughed at you during your dilemma. 

Maybe once the officer reassigns them all to a more… enthralling location, he’ll get a more satisfactory answer to the question:

"What does sanity truly mean when demanded of you by a Devil?"

#ansy-writes #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere kamisato ayato #yandere kamisato ayato x reader #yandere ayato #tw yandere #male yandere #tag: csm au

[hastyprovocateur]

Drunk in Love (College!Abby × Reader)

Summary- Abby had no plans of staying back at the club until you caught her fancy, finding something oddly familiar about you.

Word count-1.2k

Cw- sexual content, mature themes

• It had been ages since Abby traipsed down to a joint of this flavor. Maybe once upon a time in freshman year, she somehow caught herself with a lot into the whole night-clubbing gig. Never stayed long. Tonight was going to be alike, what with Manny hauling her ass out to this den.

• The ear-numbing music, pool of bodies writhing like fish in a net and liquor spilling like acid rain… wasn’t her deal. An all-in-all futile evening until she found her gaze resting on you like hands to a radiator. The dangerously short sequinned minidress wasn’t wasted on her. It clung to your body like second skin, low-cut spilling soft breasts.

Why was it so hard to look away?

• Siren? Enchantress? How does she move like that? Abby watched the iridescent fringes on your hem swirling around you, barely making any secret of your underbutt as you romped to the music. The strobing lights caught your beaming drunken face, hair fanning out oil spill like you were all just a part of some mindfuck special effect.

• "Careful, they might pop out” Manny nudged Abby’s shoulder. She scrunched her face at him, smoothing her ponytail and turning back to her lonely drink on the bar counter. Neon visions of you persisted, dancing behind her eyelids. It went down her throat like the heavy liquor she threw back.

• “I'm gonna bail” Abby shook her head, struggling to keep her voice level above the blaring music. “Come on” he urged her, another girl already whispering in his other ear “Loosen up.” "We got class at 9 tomorrow," she threw another glance at the dance floor, no sight of you. Manny broke out in a knowing chuckle as you tapped her shoulder, having snuck up from the back.

• Abby did a double take, looking from the tinsel strands in your hair, down to your pretty heels in the dark. “Thankyou” you blew a kiss at Manny, drowning the dregs of Abby's drink and taking her by the arm “But I’ll take it from here.” She felt her bicep spasm under her shirt sleeve at your touch. I’ll call, she gestured back to Manny as he flipped her off with a shit-eating grin, already heading out with the chick on his arm.

• “Me?” Abby wanted to doubly ensure. Aware that she might sully the experience. She didn't know the first thing about dancing drunk or even... drunk dancing with a girl as gorgeous as you. But something told her not to squander the opportunity. Everything smelt bitter and sultry. Like an animal’s lair. She watched your staggered saunter, hand wrapped around her wrist as the crowd stifled you both closer.

• Coming upon a reasonable clearing, you turn and put her arms around you, propping yours on her broad shoulders. Abby burned intensely, her back already damp as you leaned close to her ear “Drunk?”. “Yeah” she replied, aroused by the way your nails scraped the back of her neck. “I’m four shots down” You laugh deliciously, breath heavy with spirits.

• The feral atmosphere bled into her bones, headier than before as people pushed and prodded against her. She slid her hands across, resting in the steep dip of your spine, glaring at the men passing wayward looks, who tried jostling too close. She felt you pull her chin down to face you, “Eyes on me” You breathe against her neck before slowly dragging her sizeable hands up your sides and then back down.

• Abby closed her eyes, feeling your body collide into hers, falling into every curve and rise like they were made in pairs. She saw doubles, the glow of your smile, the swell of your breasts as they pressed up against her. All so familiar yet different. Senses swilled like dregs, and the music began thudding in her chest. You parted your legs, dropping down her front and crouching at her feet with your hands on her hips, sliding up her shirt… hooking onto her jeans. You rest your chin on her thigh, tilting your head coyly.

• Abby was no womanizer. Her sexcapades included kissing the class representative in the boiler room and promising to take it to the grave to save face. Tonight was a quick crash landing onto everything she knew. There was no face to save. She drank up every sway of your hips, bounce of your chest, and flip of your hair. The delicious curl of your lips drew her in deeper. She cradled the back of your head as she pulled you back up, flipping you around with a swift jerk.

• A shot of surprise as she pinned your hips back against hers, brows furrowing as she watched you smoothly grind back into her. You edged into her needily, bent forward with back arched beautifully. She caught the corner of your eye from where you glanced back at her, lust-ridden as she subtly humped you.

• Abby braced herself as you straightened back against her, feeling you writhe beneath her touch as she angled your face up to kiss your lips, pushing her over the edge. She felt her tongue unravel over yours, wet and hot as you tasted her right back. Her hands snaked below, artlessly pawing at the fringes of your dress before she felt yours guide her fingers up the hem.

• She groaned into your mouth as she felt the strap of your thongs digging into plump flesh, peeling them off your hips till they dangled in a twist around your thighs Curses left her lips as she cupped your slick pussy, fingers slipping in with little to no resistance. "Still wanna bail?” you ask breathlessly, as your hips buck, knees limp as you gaze up at her. “Fuck that” Abby groaned wickedly.

Following morning

• The fluorescent lights of the 9 am class were already giving her a well-deserved ache in the temples. She spent the early morning fucking around half-clothed in a women's bathroom stall. The girl from the club. It had consumed her entirely, once the liquor drained out of her, all she had were questions. Who are you? Why did you approach me? What did it mean? Could be nothing but she still had her thongs in her back pocket, nail scratches still scouring her back. The professor's monotone let slip something about pairing up and it entirely missed Abby by the time he was done sorting

• "Sir, I don't have a partner" she called out belatedly, hand lazily raised above her head. "Well..." he looked around in defeat as the entrance slammed. "Class representative!" the professor lightly clapped his hands "You're right on time" he gestured to you. A drained, mousy entity standing in the doorway "Please partner up with Abigail for the essay analysis."

• You nodded meekly, trudging up to where Abby was sitting. "Studying late again?" Abby poked, surveying your visible eye bags and pale lips. "Fuck you" you sounded entirely hoarse, snapping the reading open to the page on the board. Abby noticed the telltale bruise on your wrist and frowned. The handprint comically familiar.

• A quick flash of holding you against the bathroom wall poured back to her conscious. Wrist pressed to tile as you got yourself off on her thigh. She backed up, looking you up and down, and there it was. A single strand of tinsel in the class representative's hair. At this point, she couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Are you actually insane?" You turn owlishly to look at her. "No..." she leaned in, awfully smug "But I think you are after what you did to me last night."

#abby the last of us #abby anderson #abby anderson headcanon #abby smut #abby tlou #abby × female reader #tlou #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou2 #abby x reader #the last of us #the last of us 2 #abbyanderson×reader #abigail anderson #abby headcanons #abby x you #tlou headcanons #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fandom #tlou2 smut #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou 2 #tlou2 #abby×fem!reader

[dearharriet]

It; Remus Lupin 🦟

summary: remus is the feral swamp animal you fed that keeps coming back (18+)

word count: ~2K

warnings: explicit sexual content—MDNI, fem!r, fingering, oral (both parties), unprotected piv, squirting(ish), religious content (mentions of god, sin, etc.), southern!remus, southern!r, remus is unwashed and unhoused (and also the poorest little meow meow of all time)

authors note: if u couldn’t tell, this is based on it will come back by hozier

Remus said he wanted you breathing, so he never came at night. Never, though you wanted him to, and he left long before dusk. You knew he’d rather not come at all, or rather he never met you, but you didn’t care. What he insisted was sin usually made you feel the best you ever had, and you weren’t repenting.

You thought sin could be beautiful sometimes. Remus certainly was, and he insisted something was wrong with him—in the head, in the body. The way he talked about himself made him sound like a sticky bog mud, sucking unsuspecting people down to be ‘gator food; like any day soon he’d sink his teeth into you and drag you off into the woods.

Still you waited for him. Every day was his last, and every morning he crawled pale-faced onto your back step, a heat wilder than a Louisiana summer in his eyes.

He didn't have to speak, but he’d recant anyways, eating words he’d said only hours before. His big hands would claw at the threshold, like he was undone from being away from you so long, and his deep voice would settle between your thighs.

“Won't you let me in, Sugar? Missed you somethin’ awful last night.”

Lacerations colored his face, some new and some old. You’d have found the fucker that made them if they didn’t give you an excuse to be closer to Remus.

“Don’t know why you leave at all, if you come back lookin’ this way, honey,” you cooed, ushering him inside.

He tended to track mud in, but you didn’t mind. When Remus first came and went, you had a hard time figuring it was real, but an hour on your knees made you believe again.

You sat Remus on the edge of your tub.

“Easier to see you when it’s light,” he replied. “The dark’s the only thing that’ll take you away from me.”

Carting antiseptics and cotton his way, you landed just beside him, dumping the supplies onto the toilet.

“Y’know there’s such thing as a lamp, don’t you baby?” He hung his head, but you pushed it back up, fingers lost in his matted hair. “Let light shine out of darkness, he said.”

“Stop,“ he chided softly, his eyes fluttering shut. You leaned in to kiss his weary cheek, your lips coming away sticky with his copper blood. It was tangy on your tongue when you cleaned it off, earthy. You went back in for seconds.

Remus groaned as you licked a stripe over a gash by his eye. In pain or in pleasure, you weren’t sure, but you thought he liked it either way.

“This won’t end well for ya,” he croaked. Your tongue laved over a shallow cut on his throat, sucked. “I ain’t—ah—ain’t no good.”

His breath came heavy all the time, but it kicked up something awful when you were on him, when he was in you. You were working up to that, shimmying his shirt up to suck all the way down his slender torso.

“W’bout you,” you said into the hair on his navel. “It don’t bother you, endin’ up alone?”

A stunted breath escaped him, barely contained, as you slid to your knees. When your fingers weaseled under his peeling belt, Remus caught your wrists, eyes on yours.

“I’ll always end up alone.” He swallowed. “The question is if I’ll be a killer or not.”

There was that word. Killer. It was like a third party to the light-switch relationship you had with Remus.

“What difference does it make if you are,” you ask.

The leather folded out of the buckle, and he didn’t stop you. His eyes hid away again.

“Get up.”

“Y’already said God won’t forgive you, right?” You pulled him out of his ratty boxers, holding him firmly by the base. “What’s one more sin…?”

“This ain’t about God, sugar.” His hands were still caging your wrists, but they shook with restraint, and tightened when you suckled on the head of his cock.

“What, then?” You prodded, and then took him into your mouth. A whimper scraped out of him, lecherous and disturbed, and you drank it in.

“‘S ‘bout…your smile,” he whined, “on the backs of my eyelids when I go t’—to sleep.”

You hummed around him, pushing him into the back of your throat and swallowing. He struggled to continue.

“‘S about my—ah—my guilt, followin’ me like a ghost.”

Remus was shaking like a leaf, hands leaving your wrists to white-knuckle the tub. You came up for air, staring up as you played with him.

“God’s made a lotta evil things, Remus, but love ain’t one of ‘em.” Leaning back down, you kissed the tip of his cock. “You ain’t one of ‘em.”

As you blew on his slicked length, Remus squirmed and panted.

“It ain’t the love that scares me, it’s—‘s the lust, the—“ His leg spasmed and he doubled over, mouth breathing hot and shaken over your hairline. “When I see you, I wanna—I want—“

You shushed him, reaching a hand over his neck to scratch and rub the space there.

“I know,” you assured him, “I know.”

His head rocked a shake against yours, and he moaned in despair as you let go of his cock. Looking up, you took Remus’ face into your hands and pressed your forehead to his.

“Are ya gonna waste me,” you pressed, nipping at his bottom lip. “Go to hell in vain?”

Remus’ nostrils flared, his tortured brows settling. Then he was lowering himself to the floor and laying you out on the bathroom tile. You knew what he was thinking—there was no time to slither into bed, no need. The sun was Remus’ minister, and it was closer to dying than the minute before.

He crawled over you, prowling and hungry, and didn’t waste a second with your clothing. He always said he wanted you as you came, no dress-up or makeover. He was a creature of priority, and his time felt much better spent sucking between your thighs than staring at them.

His tongue swept in and out of your sopping hole, cleansing you and then ruining you all over again. The stubble on his face was surely leaving burns on the soft inner skin of your legs, but it felt right. Your combined dissolution only made you cry louder, made him press harder to your navel to keep you down.

“Remus,” you whined, closing your thighs over his head. He only groaned and smiled, finally finding some release from his aching hopelessness.

“I’m starvin’, sugar,” he panted into you, pressing his bruised nose into your folds. “Gimme something worth payin’ for.”

You arched and writhed, the tile warming underneath you as you begged Remus not to stop. His thick fingers pushed into you, pressing up into your ribbed walls as he sucked your clit cruelly, and you fell apart. You reached down to hold his head in place, pulling his hair, and Remus moaned into you. The vibrations topped what you thought was already insurmountable pleasure, and your eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open.

When you came to, Remus was still between your legs, relentlessly stuffing your wetness back into you. His tongue was like sandpaper on your clit suddenly, and shocks rolled through your body.

“Uh-uh,” you shook your head, grasping at his hair.

“Uh-huh,” Remus moaned into you, making you moan in return.

“Rem—uh—please,” you wailed, “please, please—fuck me before you have to go.”

Remus laid his forearm over your stomach and sucked harder. A tear slid down the side of your face, overstimulation pushing you to incoherence.

“Remus—Remus, please. B’fore the sun goes down,” you sobbed, desperate.

Remus breathed a laugh.

“Eight AM, baby,” he retorted, his voice like liquid smoke, “we got a little more time than that.”

You braced yourself and accepted your fate, pouring the inescapable buzz out of your eyes, chest heaving. Remus just petted your hip where he held it still and groaned into your cunt when you choked and shook through a second orgasm.

Lax on the floor you laid, legs shaking and core pulsing. Belatedly, your moans registered in your mind, how needy they were. You must’ve been out of your mind to ask for more.

“Rem.” Reaching blindly, you found his hand on your stomach and squeezed.

“I know, precious,” he drawled, and you heard his belt buckle clang against the floor. He snuck over you, kissing damply on your chest and neck.

“Didn't that God ever teach you patience,” Remus whispered into your mouth. You grinned wildly.

“He tried.”

Your laughs morphed into moans as Remus’ cock nestled into your cunt.

“Fuck,” you swore, “‘s big.”

Remus snapped his hips and groaned into your jaw. He set a steady rhythm, engulfed in you. He was breathing in your scent, squeezing the meat of your hips in his hands. It always surprised you how lost he became, almost drunk on the feeling of you wrapped around him.

You were a goner, too, nails scratching down Remus’ back every time his pubic bone grinded onto your swollen clit. It only spurred his thrusts faster, grunts escaping him in tight gusts.

“C’mon,” he rasped, “c’mon, sugar, please.”

He was close, his voice tense and his abdomen tensing over yours. You hiked up a leg and he took it into his own hand, propping it up for you. You were spread wide for him, your cunt suctioning and gushing around him lewdly, and his cock only felt bigger. It might’ve been prodding at your stomach, and when his met yours with every slap of his hips it squeezed at your bladder.

“Oh, God,” you whimpered, head falling back.

Remus knew not to fix something that wasn’t broken. He kept his angle and pace as best he could until your feet curled.

“Want ya, sugar.” He was untethered, whining and consumed. “Can’t letcha go—I can’t.”

Enraptured, you held Remus tight as you shook and twitched against your will, a mess of fluids soaking the hair at the base of his cock. Remus followed immediately, grinding mindlessly into your gripping cunt and howling into your neck.

You stayed glued together as you both panted, his cock softening in you. Neither of you liked to escape the feeling sooner than you had to, so you basked on the bathroom floor for a long while before washing up.

Remus always stayed for lunch, and you always cleaned him up, and you always let him shower and sleep as he wished. Your bed was an obvious option, but he wouldn’t lay in it; wouldn’t even look at it, most days. He took the couch, if anything, and he wouldn’t hear your admonishments about back pain.

When the frogs started croaking, it was time for him to leave.

“M’sorry to come back like this,” he said, like he’d never done so before. “Won’t happen again.”

“I’m sure,” you sang with a glint in your eyes.

“I mean it, baby. Y’gotta stop bein’ so kind to me.” He pressed you against the wall by your door, stony-faced. “If I drag my sorry ass back here tomorrow, promise you won’t let me in.”

You kissed him softly in response. “I promise.”

Breathing labored, he pushed away.

“Good.” Remus stepped outside. “Now you lock this door when I’m gone, y’hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sighing, Remus turned and crept back to the bayou, and—like every night—you waited for the coyotes to sing you to sleep.

+

thank you for reading <3

masterlist

#remus lupin #marauders #marauders era #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #marauders fandom #marauders fanfiction #poor little meow meow

[sanguineterrain]

✦steve with glasses and his messy hair looking so pretty as he tries to read and maybe study, pushing his glasses over the bridge of his nose, lips pursing when he tries to concentrate and his tongue poking out when he writes and scribbles down some notes <3

*heavy breathing* m.... m what have you done...

insecure!steve, slight make out, absolutely feral reader (it's me. I'm the reader.)

****

Steve is hunched over his kitchen table when you come in. He hasn't heard you yet, or he would've perked up and sought you out for kisses.

You set the tin of homemade cookies on the counter. You know Steve probably hasn't thought to eat much; ever since he threw himself into college applications, he's been somewhat of a hermit. He won't even let you help with his essays, which is very strange, but you don't question it. It's Steve's process, and whatever he needs from you, you're happy to provide.

But also: you haven't seen each other in two days, and you might go insane if you don't curl up with him on the couch soon.

You move quietly, not wanting to disturb his concentration. You place a few cookies on a plate and pour some milk from the fridge. You'd made snickerdoodles: Steve's favorite.

You pad over to the kitchen table. Steve's back faces you, shoulders curved inwards.

"Baby," you say softly, setting down the snack next to him. "You'll hurt your neck sitting like that."

You slip your hands over his shoulders and dip down to kiss his face and—oh.

You blink. Steve has... glasses?

"Hey," you start. "Where did—"

They're gone in a flash. Steve tears them off and shoves them into his pocket. His cheeks are dusted pink. You frown.

"Why'd you take 'em off, sweetie?"

Steve shakes his head.

"Didn't want you to know."

"Didn't want me to know... you wear glasses? Why not?"

Steve pushes hair behind his ear and fiddles with his pencil.

"'S stupid," he says.

"No," you reply immediately. "It's not stupid if it's making you feel bad. Tell me, baby, please?"

You sit in the adjacent chair and lean in to hold Steve's hand. You squeeze encouragingly. Steve swallows.

"People made fun 'f me," he admits quietly. "My–my dad said only weak men wear glasses."

"What? What the fuck does he know? God, what a—"

You catch yourself. Right. This is about Steve, not his prick father.

"Sorry, honey," you say. "Go on."

Steve shrugs. He's wound tightly, poised like he's ready to bolt any second.

"I've needed glasses since sixth grade. I just didn't wear them 'cause Tommy teased me. And some girls said I looked better without 'em. So I just never wore 'em. But now—" Steve swallows. "I—I guess the stuff with the Upside-Down made my vision worse 'cause the letters are too blurry for me to see without glasses."

Steve stops then. He looks at your neck, not your eyes. You realize he's waiting for you to pass judgment.

"Baby," you say. "Can you show me your glasses?"

Steve looks a little green at the request. You kiss his cheek, petting his face.

"I bet you look really cute," you add. "Bet I'll wanna kiss you till your glasses fog up."

Steve snorts at that.

"Smooth," he says. "Which one of us was the king in high school?"

You grin.

"What're you talking about, Stevie? Obviously, I ruled the school and you got all shy when I charmed your pants off."

Steve really does go shy at that. You prod his arm.

"Please, baby? I promise it's okay. Promise I won't make fun of you or laugh at you. You know I'd never do that."

Steve heaves a sigh. Then he reaches into his pocket and puts on the glasses.

The lenses are a little thick, and make Steve's big eyes even bigger. They're clear, thin frames that sit delicately on Steve's nose.

You have a visceral reaction because holy shit. Whoever said Steve looked ugly in glasses had stew for brains.

"Oh," you breathe.

"What?" Steve panics, reaching for the glasses. "What? They're bad, right? I knew I shouldn't have trusted that guy at the doctor's. He said everybody's wearing these, but—"

You stop him by his wrists. Steve looks at you, eyes wide with confusion.

"You look so good," you say.

Steve's ears go red. He ducks his head.

"You don't—you don't have to say that stuff, Y/N. I know they're dorky and—"

"No, Steve. I—fuck. You're so fucking cute."

You stand and situate yourself on his lap, straddling one thigh. You cup his face, feeling the soft skin.

"Such a pretty boy," you coo. "So, so pretty."

You take him for a proper kiss before he can argue. He follows along clumsily like maybe you really did rule the school instead of him, soft and pliant underneath.

You feel rabid. Of course, you hadn't expected Steve to look ugly in the glasses. Steve is handsome in everything. But...

You pull away. Steve's lips are swollen. His glasses are fogged up. You grin.

"Oh, baby. You've been holding out on me."

You tuck your hands behind his neck and twirl the shorter hairs there. Steve holds your hips, half-lidded.

"They really look good?" he asks, voice a little stronger.

"Yeah, sweetie. They really do. My handsome boy."

Steve swallows hard. You give him a chaste kiss on his nose and then reach behind to bring a cookie to his lips. He pouts.

"Eat," you order.

"But..." Steve openly stares at your lips.

"Eat," you say, leaning in. "And I'll fog up your glasses all you want. 'Kay?"

Steve takes the cookie.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #inbox #blurb #m tag 🍓

[evansbby]

OMG JUST HAD A THOT IMAGINE boyfriends dad!ari (can u tell i’m obsessed with ari lol) has the day off work and is working out at home doing press ups and whatevs, you show up wanting to surprise ur bf (he’s an ass anyway we don’t care ab him x) but it’s just ari in the living room grunting and sweating, doing these push ups in just tiny shorts with those big thighs and hairy tiddies out🥵

he’s all like “sorry honey didn’t see you there” and ur just like drooling over him and he’s like “you wanna help me workout?” so you lay on his back whilst he does press ups all cute n domestic and then shit hITS THE FAN NEXT THING YOU KNOW HES RAILING YOU INTO THE CARPET😩

“oh baby you’re so tiny, who knew you’d be such a dirty slut for me. your pussy’s so tight, no one’s ever used you like this before huh?”

oh bestie you always send in the hottest thots!! boyfriend’s dad Ari makes me feral in ways you don’t even know!!! just imagine this hunky, dilfy daddy… so calm and collected… knowing he could seduce you so easily it’s almost laughable…

Warnings: daddy kink, dumbification, dubcon, age gap below the cut!!!

You can’t keep your eyes off the scene in front of you. Ari — your boyfriend’s dad — in the middle of his intense workout routine, shirtless and tanned skin glistening with sweat, his chest so hairy and virile — so unlike Ransom but not in a bad way.

“Oh, sorry honey, didn’t see you there.” The grunting suddenly stops as Ari gets up mid-push-up, running a hand through his long brown hair before making his way to you, “Ransom isn’t at home so what brings you here?”

Oh. You’d come to surprise Ransom — your boyfriend. He hadn’t told you he’d be out, however. But looking at his father right now, standing in front of you with his glorious and muscular body dripping with sweat, you can’t say you care too much.

Ari smirks, “Honey, are you staring at me? Be honest.”

You shake your head, suddenly shy, “N-No. sorry, Mr. Levinson. I was just leaving.”

“Aw, honey, don’t leave. Why don’t you help me with my workout? These push-ups are getting a bit too easy, you know?”

And that’s how you find yourself sitting cross-legged on your boyfriend’s father’s back while he does his push-ups, “And I want you to count each one for me, sweetheart. You think you can do that?”

“Y-Yes, Mr. Levinson.”

You count for him, the number going well into the double digits. And he’s so strong, so sturdy as you grip onto his firm shoulders, watching his sweat-covered muscles flex.

“This is barely a workout, honey. You’re so tiny and cute, I can barely feel you on me.” Ari suddenly flips over, causing you to topple onto his chest as he lies on the floor now with you on top of him.

You squeak softly, what is he doing? Isn’t this, like, super inappropriate??? “Uh, I should go, Mr. Levinson.”

“Call me daddy, baby.” He whispers softly, grabbing your wrists tightly and holding you against his chest, “And what’s the hurry, huh? Thought you wanted to help daddy with his workout?”

“Ransom won’t like this!” You cry, although your own body seems to like this very much, judging by how you’re pressing your thighs together.

“Ransom’s a child.” Ari growls, lips now nipping at your neck, one of his hands guiding yours down to the waistband of his shorts, “C’mon, honey. You said you’d help me out and you don’t wanna make your daddy sad, do you?”

He pushes your hand into his shorts and you gasp, but Ari is unperturbed, “Daddy will be so sad if you leave right now, honey. Because you know you’re my best girl. Always coming over when you know Ransom isn’t here, always staring at daddy and thinking I won’t notice. But I notice everything. I know Ransom doesn’t satisfy you. No, a little baby girl like you needs a proper daddy to take care of her.”

He’s rubbing your dainty hand over his dick now, and it feels so big and thick that you can hardly believe it. Oh, Ransom doesn’t compare to this at all!! You involuntarily let out a moan and Ari smirks.

“Just like that, baby. Jerking your daddy off so good, aren’t you? I know you’re a baby and you don’t know anything but that’s okay. Daddy’s gonna teach you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Nngh, yes! Yes, daddy, please teach me! ‘m a dumb baby an’ I don’t know anything!” You wail, finally giving in to how good it feels.

“That’s right, baby. Make your daddy proud, let me show you what it’s like to pleasure a real man. I know his dick isn’t as big as mine, not even close. And you’re my baby, you deserve the best, the biggest. I’m gonna treat you so good, baby. Daddy’s gonna treat you so good.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You chant, humping into his thigh as he continues to guide your hand on his dick.

“Cute little baby, look how enthusiastic you are. Gonna make your daddy cum so fast, aren’t you? Like a little natural. God, baby, next time we’re gonna do this in daddy’s bed, alright? Gonna make you my pretty little wife. And Ransom won’t mind you being his new mommy, because I’m never letting you go.”

SORRY BYE ✌🏼😳😳😳😳

#ajdjsjsjak #ari levinson #chris evans #ari drabble #chris evans x reader #buckyscase

[choism]

Mommy!Seonghwa x AFAB!Reader

Genre: FWB to Lovers

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Smut, romance at the end, more warnings under cut

A/N: Hello this is my bi yearly fic drop! lmao, I hope everyone likes it <3333 NSFW warning under the cut!

Remember, tumblr runs on reblogs, not likes <3

Warnings: Male Mommy kink, cunnilingus, oral (m + afab receiving), creampie (dont be a fool wrap your tool), penetration, throat fucking, dom seonghwa, rough sex, impregnation kink, breeding kink, just overall a filthy mess

He's a wreck.

Doesn't know how you will react. He knows that you are down for anything, it's why you became fuck buddies in the first place, but for some reason this specific thing has his nerves shaking.

"You want me to what?" You say, curiosity in your voice. You don't want to tease him too much, seeing as he looks like a ball of anxiety right now, fiddling with his thumbs. "Say it one more time for me."

"Fuck yn, really?" He bites his lip and looks up to the ceiling, gathering his courage once again before looking into your eyes,

"I want you to call me mommy while I fuck you, is that clear enough?"

The first time you had heard him, you were taken aback by the sudden request, but hearing how unsure he is of his own words, how nervous he is makes the neurons in your brain quiver with excitement.

You giggle and wrap your arms around his shoulders, "Want to fuck me, mommy?" You pout into a kiss, smiling deviously as he groans into your mouth. You lightly grind your hips into the hardening bulge inside his pants, going slow to tease him just that tiny bit more.

Seonghwa slowly rolls his hips into yours, placing his hand on your hip and gripping firmly. "Ah ah, just because I asked you to do me a favor doesn't mean you get to have control this time sweetheart." The brunette pushes you gently against the wall and buries his head into your neck, sucking a small, light hickey to mark you as his.

"No, I'm gonna have my way with you today. Bedroom." Seonghwa demands, and as much as you want to tease him further you see the feral look in his eyes, and you know you won't get your way. You do as he says and head into the bedroom, starting to strip yourself of your clothes as he follows in and does the same.

You are about to crawl on the bed when he takes a hold of your wrist and stops you. He glides his hand from your wrist to the top of your head, pushing lightly, and you take the hint.

You slowly sink to your knees as he strokes his now fully hardened cock, precum beading at the tip. You drool at the sight.

Seonghwa tilts his head back as he languidly strokes his cock to tease you, letting out small sighs of pleasure. He smears around the precum on his head with his thumb, taking that same digit and pushing it past your lips for you to suck on. You lick up his slick eagerly, swirling your tongue around his thumb as if it were his cock head, tasting his cum as if you were starved.

You could never grow tired of pleasing him this way.

He slips his thumb out and replaces it with the tip of his member onto your bottom lip, not pushing in but merely making an entrance to just further tease you.

"Open up for mommy, sweetheart."

You stick out your tongue and open up a bit more as he pushes just a bit past his tip into your mouth, letting you slick it up to take him in further. You roll your tongue along a prominent vein underneath his shaft and he lets out a short but loud groan in appreciation. He stops pushing in to let you adjust and take him further in yourself. Once settled you take him in further, not all the way to the pubic bone but near it, you swirl your tongue along his shaft, holding his thighs for support.

You take your time tasting him, engulfing him, and pleasuring him before taking him in even deeper to where he touches the back of your throat. His hand flies down and takes a hold of your hair as you breathe through your nose and try to keep yourself from gagging on him. You pull back a bit and hollow out your cheeks, sucking him further and harder.

At this point your throat fucking him all by yourself, thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth as if it were you own dripping hole being pounded into. You take him in and make obscene noises with each suck, the noise practically echoing off the walls and filling the room with sounds of sex and pleasure.

Seonghwa's groans increase in volume as you get messier with your motions, the mixture of drool and precum falling from your mouth onto your chest and the floor.

"M' close, where do you want mommy to cum?" He says through gritted teeth. His hand found its way back into your hair and is guiding you along his cock with each suck. "You want me to cum down that pretty throat of yours? Want to be filled in both holes?" You gag around his cock with that last sentence and he starts to fuck your throat gently in lew of you halting your movements.

You breathe through your nose and moan around him to bring him closer, and with a few more thrust his hand grips your hair tight and he comes down your throat. Seonghwa loudly groans as he slows his thrust to a halt, his orgasm washing over him in smaller waves.

You slowly pull off of his softening cock with a pop and stand up.

"Open for Mommy."

You open your mouth to show him the bits of come that stayed on your tongue and he pulled you into a passionate kiss. Seonghwa can taste his own cum on his tongue but he doesn't care. He pulls apart, swallowing the substance. "Bed."

You do as he demands, laying down on the bed. You take the liberty of prepping yourself for his thick cock, slipping two fingers past your mouth and wetting them efficiently. You go to move them towards your aching pussy but Seonghwa stops you.

"Ah ah, I'll be doing the prep today." He takes his place between your legs and lifts your knees over his shoulders. He runs a run over your stomach and downward towards your center, cupping it lightly and teasing. "God you have such a pretty pussy." He licks a single stripe from your perineum all the way to the hood above your clit, lightly sucking on it.

"Mo-mommy..." You moan out gently as he inserts a finger, the stimulation and wetness overwhelming your senses. Seonghwa's pace slightly quickens as he feels your clit throb with immense pleasure. His sucks become harsher and his finger curls to hit the soft spongy spot inside of you, making you garble out nonsense in response to his minstrations.

"Mommy please, gonna come please!" The way he licks and sucks at your clit is absolutely animal. The sounds are lewd and wet and just bring you closer to the edge, his thick and long fingers fucking into methodically, attempting to coax out a stronger orgasm. He doesn't stop and you feel yourself come closer and closer to the edge until-

"Fuck!"

You yell as he pulls away, your orgasm washing away as soon as it built. He edged you. He brought you close and pulled you away near your peak and leaving your clit throbbing with anticipation it won't get until later.

"Fuck why Mommy please, fuck I wanna come please." You beg, tears pricking at your eyes from the stimulation being taken away.

"I want you to come on Mommy's cock, don't you want that? You want Mommy to make you feel full? Satisfied?" Seonghwa abrubtly enters you swift and hard, the head of his cock hitting your cervix but not in a painful way. You moan out so loud it's a borderline yell as he fills you up, every inch making you feel full, complete.

"Tell me what you want baby, want me to fuck you stupid? Fill you with my cum huh?" He's pounding into you roughly. You don't even know how he got hard again so fast but fuck did it feel so good. His cock was made for you. You were made to be fucked by him.

Seonghwa lifts your legs higher so his pelvis meets your ass with every full thrust, he's practically on top of you and slamming himself inside. He thumbs over your raw, abused clit, making sure to apply pressure but not move to much as to not bring you over the edge so quickly.

"Please..ngh, god...." Is all you can murmur as his thick cock claims you.

"Please what? Tell me what you want?" He says a bit shaky, clearly on the verge of losing control of himself as well.

"Cum...fuck Seonghwa cum inside please god." Tears well in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. You swear you've never been layed this good in your entire life, and who knew it would take a mere Mommy kink to bring you to such an edge.

"Want it inside? Want Mommy to make you a Mommy? Fill you up and breed you so good it'll be dripping out of you for weeks- fuck!" He feels his orgasm rapidly approaching and he knows your just as close.

His words hit you like a truck, the thought of being fucked so full of cum, of becoming a Mommy fills your senses to the brim and sends you over the edge. Your finish is so powerful you can feel your slick leaking and rubbing along his thighs and yours and he follows soon after with a few more deep thrusts, rope after rope of cum filling you, leaking out of you and dripping down your ass onto the bed.

The mixture of cum is immense and becomes apparent as Seonghwa pulls out of you, it spills out and immediately onto the sheets and like a puppy thirsty for water, Seonghwa leans down and cleans it up.

His tongue on your sensitive and puffy center quickly brings you into yet another orgasm. Your thighs shake as he cleans out the sticky mixture and you squeal with pleasure. Once he has fully lapped up your juices he gets up and grabs a washcloth to properly clean you both. When he comes back you notices the brunette hair on his head sticking to his forehead. He looks like he ran a marathon.

As he cleans you up and moves on to himself he says, "i think out of all the times we've fucked, that was the best one yet." He chuckles and plops a fresh pair of his pajamas next to you for you to get dressed in.

"You're right." You smile, throwing on his shirt. "You know, you said something really hot." He quirks an eyebrow.

"Want Mommy to make you a Mommy?"

His ears and face flush red with embarassment and he throws a pillow at you. "I- I just said it in the moment!" He scrambles for an explanation but you silence him with a deep kiss.

"It's okay, I liked it, you should say shit like that more often and maybe I'll wanna do more than fuck you." Seonghwa's face goes blank, clearly attempting to put two and two together in his head.

"Do you mea-"

"God your stupid." You fall on top of him and kiss him deeply, not with lust but with something deeper, with fire. "I want to date you, you dumbass."

Yeah, he's a wreck alright.

© Choism 2023. do not repost or translate.

#seonghwa smut #park seonghwa smut #hwa smut #ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x reader #kpop smut #kpop x reader #mdni #smut

[soapels]

HEYYYYY, I saw your requests open and I thought why not trying it. So, could you please please please write something with König and like, they're training or something and the reader or König (dc about who's going to do it) does that move that you take down the other person but you sit on their lap if you're not fast enough. And they're like panting from training.

I have more things in mind, so I'll be here for a while 😁

grim reaper

könig x female reader

content: slight suggestive themes, sfw, konig is down bad for reader but also a bit cheeky lol

hii nonnie! hehe i didnt know if u wanted sfw or otherwise, so i ended up somewhere right in the middle- or teasing at the latter, at least 😳 lol but i hope u enjoy!! i really love this idea so much! i wanna do this eventually with alejandro too ♡ good day! c:

all hearts, comments & reblogs are very appreciated!

König’s a tough guy.

Big, solid, more of a fucking mountain than a living breathing man, to be entirely honest- and it certainly don’t help when you put a gun in his hand- or worse, when his eyes are set on you.

Those shimmering blues are pretty, you can’t help but think even as he slowly rounds the mat with you. So pretty that they might succeed at distracting some poor bastard behind enemy lines, make them believe it’s an angel come to save ‘em from war rather than a ravenous, feral beast responding to the dinner bell.

There’s a reason he wears a hood.

All grim reapers do.

The air is somewhat thick between the two of you. Growingly tired. A healthy amount of sweat beading below your lighter fatigues.

You’re both a panting mess of missed punches and a few exchanged, light jabs. You managed to score a low kick at the back of his calf- perhaps your hardest hit yet- and it’s probably why he’s limping now. Just slightly.

It must still sting a bit, though. Because his delayed dodging time is enough for you to swoop in and pull the rug right out from beneath him, immediately pouncing on him as he falls.

Eager, you’re overwhelmingly eager to finish sparring, because while it’s fun being pitted up against Konig (he’s your favorite partner for these sessions), you’ve been at it for closer to an hour and supper will be served soon.

Straddling his waist, you pin his brawny arms back over his head, your smaller fingers struggling to wrap around his thick wrists.

He’s so much bigger, so much stronger, such a pain in the ass to immobilize.

And still, pinning him down on the mat, your hips anchored firmly over his- you know with one mindless buck, jerk, or thrash on his end, you’d go flying.

So it’s a mercy, really, hair hanging over your head and almost touching the tip of his nose, that instead of that- perpetuating the session and perhaps stinging your pride- Konig merely lies there beneath you.

Accepts it and you.

Lets out a little, breathy sort of giggle.

“Ah, you got me.” He surrenders, yet your hands must be completely deaf to his words because they don’t loosen at all.

His broad chest shakes with every heaving breath he takes, jostling you both, but it’s only when you feel him make an uncomfortable shift beneath you that you truly realize just how exhausted he is.

Blues eyes glinting tiredly through the holes of his hood, holding an odd little twinkle to them as he runs them over you— nervous, but curious, too.

So, so curious.

As if common sense hits you, you let a playful grin finally carve into your cheeks. “Did I?” You ask softly, and his head tilts some at you. “I’ve got the feeling you could switch our positions easily, if you really wanted to.”

He’s vaguely jittery, your sparring buddy, but when you make that mindless comment, for reasons beyond you, König visibly flusters, jerking his chin the other way.

His cheek rubs against the mat through his mask, mumbling a polite rebuttal.

“Y-You underestimate yourself, Y/n… You knocked me right off my feet! Isn’t that good?” His gaze does find yours again, then- quietly, “…I think you are good…”

It’s your turn to giggle.

The sound is pleasant, the sort of sound that he’d play on repeat if he could. But… those are feelings that the brute of a man is vaguely aware are offhanded, and certainly not the kind you divulge to your comrade.

So he nibbles on his lips, though you don’t see, and keeps quiet on it.

“Well, thank you, König,” your cheeks are a bit warm, either from tussling with him or just the fact that it’s him and not anyone else, you’re not so sure.

“I think you are good, too.”

Oh.

Oh.

That feels nice to hear… And your mouth looks so pretty when you say it, too.

You are beautiful, the man steadily comes to terms with- in one staggering, full gust of wind beneath you- you are so beautiful and you are straddling his hips and you said with your own tongue that he is good in your eyes.

You don’t know just what possesses him when he turns to you after, letting a nervous, yet deft hand rake the entirety of his hood over his head. But the truth is that he also doesn’t know why- or anything, to be fair, in that brilliant, awing moment- just that you are the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and he loves sparring with you and he can’t fully stop himself in time from saying—

“Yes,” he admits. “For you.”

And you are so startled by his sudden spur of confidence, and also the hint of a cheeky grin curling at his lips, that you are silent for a moment.

Stunned, perhaps.

An addicting, bubbly sort of feeling rises between you.

…S-Something else does, too, but lower— poking persistently at the start of your tummy.

You blink owlishly at the belated realization. So does he, all blue and hopeful yet also, apparently, growingly excited.

You clear your throat, slowly sliding off of his lap, praying to God your buddy doesn’t see the evident stirrings of something smitten on your face.

“H-How nice,” you murmur. And you mean it.

The both of you stand up, inconspicuously brushing off the fronts of your thighs, trading off see you in a bit’s and good spar’s, the male following shortly after you- sort of like a lost puppy- towards the shower block.

Washing off sounds nice- even better, settling down at the cafeteria and digging into his meaty portion of dinner- but to be entirely honest, he’s still basking in the sweet afterglow of his small (yet no less revolutionary) victory.

…Maybe he ought to let you win more often.

#call of duty #cod x reader #konig #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig cod

[sassykattery]

Lunatic Punishment, Pt. 2

Well, I really think it's time we see what happens to Lucifer and MC when they returned to the House Of Lamentation after administering their punishment to Diavolo, Barbatos, and Solomon.

Pairing: Lucifer x F! Reader (intimate scene, intimate relationship could be implied but not explicitly stated)

Chapter 38 spoilers but still vague.

Synopsis: What was Lucifer's punishment for everyone in Chapter 38?

Characters: Lucifer, MC="you", Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Beel, Belphi

CW: afab bodied reader. Reader wears a skirt. No pronouns used, no gendered words, but there are lots of terms of endearment (love, beautiful, baby, darling, etc). Explicit description of sexual acts (fingering, piv, f! receiving penetration, multiple creampie). Explicit description of female and male genitalia. Praise kink. Exhibitionism. Voyeurism.

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

18+only

Part 1 Here

One Shot Masterlist

Happy Valentine's Day, my sinners ❤

You and Lucifer appeared in the foyer of the House, having missed the feral grasps of the royals and Solomon after giving them their punishment.

Lucifer looked down at you and smirked. "Come, there are still six others who need their punisnment," he murmured. He took a hold of your hand and led you to the library.

Once inside, you both looked up to see all of the brothers strung up from the ceiling, hanging upside down.

"C'mon Lucifer, don't ya think we've suffered enough?" Mammon whined, currently with his back to you two as he slowly turned.

"Lucifer," Satan growled.

Within seconds, each brother were squirming and trying to get a look at you.

"No, I don't believe you all have, and now it's time for the rest of your punishment," Lucifer replied coolly. "Take a seat, I'll be back shortly."

Lucifer left you and his brothers alone.

"MC, what have you done?" Asmodeus whined, mascara running down his cheeks. "Why do you smell so good? I need a taste."

"Lunatic Pudding," you replied with a smirk, sitting down and crossing your arms. "You all were absolutely appalling when Lucifer lost his memory, and this is what you get for your behavior."

"Not you too, MC. It was all harmless," Levi cried out.

"I don't believe it was," Lucifer replied, having returned. "Come, MC, let's continue where we left off," he purred to you, making your skin prickle with enticement. Lucifer placed his hand at the small of your back and guided you out of the library, up the stairs to his bedroom.

Once in his room, Lucifer took off his overcoat and waistcoat, leaving the door open. You had barely made a few steps into the room, and he seized you from behind, one arm over your throat, the other over your waist.

"You don't know how tempting to me you've been this entire time. Merely getting a taste of you is simply not enough," he growled. "Tell me you want this, that you want me."

"I want this, I want you," you rasped, feeling yourself becoming damp just with his words.

Grabbing your wrist, he drug you over to his bed and sat first, then perched you on his lap.

"You were amazing earlier, I'm so proud of you. Thank you for helping me," he murmured, nuzzling into your temple, breathing in the wondrous scent in your hair. "Allow me to reward you, love."

Situating you on his lap, your back against his chest, he took your legs and spread them over his legs, keeping you wide open. His dominant hand then came to slide under your skirt and panties, quickly finding your slick-covered slit. He groaned in your ear and sank his fingers in to rub your puffy clit.

"Ah! Lucifer!" You gasped, hips twitching with pleasure.

"Does that feel good? Do you want more?" He muttered softly. "This is all about you, darling, and whatever you want."

"Ohh... Yes, yes, more," you moaned, rocking your hips and grinding your ass into his erection.

He chuckled darkly and brought his hand back up, admiring the webbing of slick on the fingertips of his gloves.

"Take this off for me, will you?" He asked quietly, bringing his fingers to your mouth. You grabbed onto the leather with your teeth gently, and he pulled his hand out while you held the glove. He took it and tossed it aside. "Very good," he praised.

His warm hand came back to find your pussy again, teasing his fingers along your heat. Your head rolled back to rest against his collarbone as he worked his magic by slicking up his digits and then sliding his middle finger past your entrance slowly.

A wanton moan escaped your lips as he sank all the way in, curling his finger against your spongey spot, striking it like a match to light your fire. Whimpers and soft moans left your mouth when he started slowly pumping his digit in and out. He kissed your temple, and his other hand came up to gently massage your breast over your shirt and bra. The stimulation was enough to make you keen, your hips rolling in sync with his hand.

"That's it, beautiful, enjoy it. Enjoy what I can do to you," he mumbled in your ear in his lower register. He then added another finger, and already, you were so close, and the additional digit had you sobbing with bliss. When he hit just the right pace, hitting your sweet spot, you came apart on his lap, wriggling and twitching as your orgasm commanded you to. Fiery pleasure danced across your nerves and flooded your body.

"There it is. So good for me," he praised you in your ear. Your walls tightened down on his fingers and held him in place as you rolled on his hand and lap.

--

"Oh fuck make it stop," Mammon groaned.

"I'll never do it again, Lucifer, I promise," Satan sobbed.

"This sucks," Levi whimpered.

All six brothers still hung from the ceiling, but now they were audience to the sounds and scents coming from Lucifer's bedroom. Hearing your cries and smelling your sweet, illustrious body was driving them wild, and tears ran down some of their faces with pain from being so close but not enough to satiate their wicked whims of lust for you.

--

"More?" Lucifer whispered to you.

"More," you confirmed. He chuckled again, lifting you off his lap to turn and lay you against the sheets of his bed.

"I'm going to enjoy every moment of this, and I will ensure you do too," Lucifer stated, crawling to hover above you. "Your satisfaction is my goal, and we won't stop until I hear you say you've had enough."

You nodded eagerly, and he placed a passioned kiss against your lips. Straddling your thighs, he sat up to loosen and throw off his tie, followed by him unbuttoning his shirt. You marveled at his body as he revealed it to you, sculpted and divine. Tossing his shirt aside, he unbuckled his belt with one hand, looking up to find you gazing at him like he was the finest meal you'd ever seen. He smirked and sat back to stand at the edge of the bed, sending his slacks and boxers to the floor.

Quickly, he came back to you and rid you of your shirt and bra, tossing them aside with little decorum. Next came the panties and skirt, all thrown off in one swift motion. Now both fully nude, he gazed upon you, intense desire lacing his gaze.

"Perfect," he murmured, kissing you tenderly. "I can't wait to sink into you and make you mine."

Your breath hitched in your throat as he gave you loving kisses across the span of your body. His lips were softly pressed against your delicate frame, making sure to wordlessly dote on you through his actions. This went on for a while as he took his time decorating you in his passioned kisses. This was truly just about you.

"Tell me what you want, precious," he murmured against your collarbone.

"Want you," you mumbled, in a trance from his work on you. "Want you inside me."

He nearly purred at your words. "Is that right? Oh, how I've longed to hear you say that. Of course, darling," he said, only wishing to oblige your every wish.

Lucifer sat upright on his knees, taking your legs and spreading them out. His large hands took purchase of the back of your bent knees, holding you wide open for his full, uninterrupted view. He took in your glistening open cunt, the very one he's been thinking about for ages now, imagining this very moment. His cock laid against your mound, and if you looked, you'd realize just how deep he was about to be inside you.

Gazing as he towered above you, he looked beautiful. The way his mouth curved in his signature smirk, his eyes narrowed as he took you in, his strong hands holding onto your plush flesh.

"Are you ready? Once we begin, I don't think I can stop myself until we're both spent and ruined," he asked seductively. His unholy and intense crimson stare flickered back up to yours.

"I'm ready, I want you, Lucifer," you whispered desperately, your breath now so shallow and skin so hot you thought you'd nearly burst if he didn't start soon.

"Oh, MC..." he muttered. Keeping one hand in place, he took his other to take hold of his cock and rub it through your lower lips, letting your sticky slick coat his member. Your heat against his felt euphoric already, but there was still so much more to come. His head gently rubbed into your puffy clit, earning him a squirm and a whimper from you.

"So sensitive," he cooed playfully, his smirk more of a full smile with his fangs showing. "Are you sure you can handle this?" You nodded, but he tutted you. "Use your words."

"Please, Lucifer," you whined, rolling your hips. His hand still holding the back of your knee pushed your leg up higher, keeping you in place and to stop your movement.

"Please, what? Let them hear you. Let them hear what you want me to do to you," he purred.

"Please fuck me, Lucifer! Please, please, please!" You wailed to him loudly.

"There it is," he chuckled. "Yes, of course love, I'll take care of everything."

---

"Please fuck me, Lucifer! Please, please, please!"

"Oh, c'mon," Asmo sobbed profusely.

"This is torture. I can smell–" Mammon cried.

"Shut up! Everybody just shut up!" Satan barked.

All six demons were in various states of anger, jealousy, and pain from their punishment, and hearing your voice only reminded them of their predicament. To have you so close yet so far, it wasn't fair. They wanted to ravage you, to touch you, to fuck you.

---

"I'll go slow, just relax," the eldest murmured. "Tell me if we need to stop as well."

You nodded in reply, eagerly waiting for your reward. He was holding your legs again as before, and his cock was waiting right at your soft entrance, pliable and waiting for him.

Slowly, indeed, oh, so slowly, he sank his hips forward, and you let loose the most lewd moan in response to just the head of his cock breaching your depths. It was perfect, he was perfect.

"Oh, sweet thing, you're doing so good," he murmured to you, gripping onto you tighter the further he sank in. When he was finally fully sheathed inside your depths, he paused while you both adjusted to your union. A soft grunt sounded out in his throat when you clenched down, feeling him out.

"Tell me when you're ready. We can take our time," he encouraged you, his voice low, rumbling, but so soft and endearing. Even if this was a punishment for his brothers, there wasn't a reason why he couldn't savor every second, every touch, and every sound of you two being together so intimately.

"I-I'm ready," you answered quietly.

Lucifer's hips drew back slowly, and he watched as his cock withdrew from your already-slippery cunt until just the head remained. Sinking back in again, he gave another hiss as his lips curved into an approving smirk. He looked up briefly, looking as though he was thanking whoever was responsible for letting him experience the wonder that was you. When he looked back down, my, you could see the devil in him really was set ablaze by you.

His wings and horns materialized into existence, as well as the black diamond adorning is forehead. He set a slow and gentle pace at first, working to really memorize how you felt to him. How wet your walls were, the cute mewls and huffs you made, and how your flesh contoured under his grip. His fingers dug into the plush flesh of your thighs.

"Feels good," you whimpered quietly. His pace quickened only slightly as he watched your expression, ranging from bliss to concentration and then to amazement.

"Darling, I need you to do something for me," Lucifer purred to you.

"Wh-what?"

"I need you to be as loud as you want, make any noises you have to, and to enjoy everything I give to you. Scream, cry, whatever you feel like doing, I want to hear it, and I want everyone else to hear it," he commanded. "Can you do that for me, sweetness?"

"Y-Yes, okay Lucifer," you rasped.

"Good. Here, hang onto these for me," he replied with a grin, taking your hands and hooking them under your knees to replace his so that you held yourself wide open for him. His hands came down to rest on where your upper thigh and your ass joined together, and his thumbs reached across to spread your pussy lips further.

"Ahh! Oh!" You whined as he increased the pace of his thrusts and changed the angle. He was pummeling that delicious sweet spot deep inside, striking it perfectly with every pump of his hips.

"That's it, take it, darling," he rasped with a wicked smile, his own breathing hitching as he sought his own pleasure too. Watching you from his vantage point was better than any pornographic scene he could ever think of. The way your body contorted around his, how you sounded with every purposeful thrust, just the way you smelled was more than he could've hoped for. You were everything to him now; you were his new obsession, Lunatic Pudding aside. He's wanted you for so long, and now that he has you, he has to ruin you for anyone else.

"F-fuck," you muttered, almost sobbing as your orgasm started to build. Your chest tightened, your entire body set ablaze, and pools of electricity were trickling into existence deep in your abdomen. "Luci, you feel so good. So, so good," you babbled semi-coherently.

"I know, baby, I know," he murmured blissfully, his deep baritone pitch smoothing over your mind soothingly.

"Gonna cum," you whimpered, becoming slave to the onslaught of pleasure.

"Say it again, my love, louder," he encouraged, hands gripping you tighter as he pounded away at your poor pelvis.

"Please! I'm gonna cum!"

---

"No no no no–" Belphie groaned.

"Don't do it," Levi sobbed.

"Please! I'm gonna cum!"

"I'm sorry, Lucifer! Don't do this to us! We'll never do it again!" Asmo yelled as he thrashed about.

"Smells so yummy..." Beel whimpered.

Mammon and Satan had fully checked out by this point, having accepted this was their fate, and nothing could come out of fighting it or trying to escape. They merely focused on breathing through the physical pain of wanting their human so bad, being so close they could smell and hear everything, this was all they could do.

---

"So good for me. Cum for me, sweetness. You've earned your pleasure," he commanded with a low purr.

Only wordless screams and moans left your lips at this point. It was just a matter of getting you there. His hand inched over just slightly, still holding onto you where the backs of your thighs met your ass, and he thumbed over your clit. And that was what you needed to come completely undone. Your walls fluttered and simultaneously tightened down on him, making him gasp.

Feeling the rush of his own pleasure beginning to mount, he began slamming his hips into yours, completely commanded by lust.

"There! Yes! Right there!" You cried out. He grunted in reply, staying steady for you.

"Mm– hah, oh fuck–" he muttered. "Where do you want me?"

"Inside!"

A few haphazard thrusts later, his hips surged forward as he released inside your throbbing cunt, giving you every ounce of his desire. He held himself there, making sure you got every drop. There was so much that it started flooding out around his cock and down onto the sheets. Lucifer looked down to where you two were joined and admired his work, how messy you two were.

"I don't think I can stop now," he growled. He finally came forward to lay flush on you, folding your legs onto his shoulders and still very hard. "Tell me you want more."

"M-more, please," you whimpered, still in your orgasmic haze.

"That's my good little human," he murmured. Eagerly, he set a fast pace of ramming into again, listening to the squelching and whines coming from you with amusement.

---

"They aren't done?!" Levi whined out. They began to hear the sound of a certain headboard banging into the wall again, very obviously louder now than before.

"I hate him, I hate him so much," Belphie bemoaned. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Good luck. We'll be lucky if we get down from here in the next year," Satan replied in a detached tone.

Just then, Cerberus walked in and sat below the six brothers, waiting for one of them to drop. The eldest had let him in when he briefly left while you spoke with the other six. This was, well, insurance that they wouldn't try to escape yet.

---

"That's it, that's it! You're doing so well. Keep going," Lucifer encouraged you, now both of you almost having reached the point of overstimulation.

"Lu-Lucifer!"

"You're mine, all mine, beautiful," he babbled. The Avatar's lips latched onto your neck, digging his fangs into your flesh. His hands found purchase on your waist to hold you down and in place while he gave you everything he had.

"S'too much!"

"I know, love, almost there. You're so perfect for me," he mumbled against your flesh. "I'll give you whatever you want. Anything and everything is yours."

"Gonna– oh! Ohh!"

One final, long, drawn-out scream of absolute euphoria left your lips. It was the most perfect symphony to Lucifer. He gave in one more time, plunging himself fully into you and letting you have him.

He moaned beautifully in response, holding you tightly as he, too, fell apart. Several pitchy groans sounded in his throat, and his cock pulsed continuously. You felt so full, it was hard to believe there was any room left for more of his seed.

As you two came down from your highs together, you felt him lovingly stroking your body, his hands caressing your waist, hips, arms, thighs, anything within his reach.

"Thank you," he whispered. He propped himself up on one elbow.

"I feel like I should be thanking you," you answered.

"For being there for me when I lost my memory, keeping my brothers and everyone else in check, and loving me all the same throughout the entire ordeal," he clarified.

You gave a small smile, still exhausted from your romp.

"Of course, Lucifer."

"And, I should add, for helping me administer a most appropriate punishment for the lot of them."

You chuckled and cupped his cheek.

---

Silence echoed across the House of Lamentation. Cerberus had long since left the six younger brothers to hang in the desolate quiet. The sounds of vigorous fucking from upstairs had long-since stopped, and it had been nearly a day since they were all strung up there.

Lucifer strode into the library and looked around at his handiwork.

"Now, have you all learned your lesson?" He asked, arms folded.

None of them could even vocalize a proper response, only quiet and raspy groans sounding out.

"I should hope so. The effects of the pudding have worn off, so I'm going to let you all go. But let this be a reminder that, should you wish to act so foolish again, I can come up with worse punishments yet," the eldest stated.

Suddenly, the ropes vanished, and all six landed on the floor with loud thuds. None of them dare to move, bodies sore and exhausted from everything.

What a lunatic punishment indeed.

---

Thanks for reading! <3

Post made by sassykattery. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated.

Tags: @delphi-dreamin @leavesandflowers @itsmeninerz @obeymediasimp @marvelous-maniac

#obey me #obey me shall we date #sassywrites #sassystories #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me smut #lucifer x female reader #lucifer smut #lucifer x afab reader

[sweaterkittensahoy]

I'm tired of Bucky pining after gale and being jealous, give us pining and jealous and possessive over his man gale!!

[To everyone who understands Buck is the feral fucker: I love you all.]

"Huh, you look like my friend Buck," Bucky says one night to a guy sitting across from him at the pub.

Buck turns and looks at Bucky, eyes narrowed. "What?" he says.

"He looks like my friend Buck," Bucky says, giving Buck an innocent smile. Under the table, his hand is heavy on Buck's knee. The man across the table has no clue anything is wrong.

"No, he doesn't," Buck replies. He flexes his knee under Bucky's hand. "You said I look like Buck."

"You do, but so does he," Bucky says, waving at the guy.

Buck turns and looks at the guy. He's shorter than Buck, slim but with the wide shoulders they all have from calisthenics. He's ruddy with light hair and green eyes. He's grinning at Bucky, amused.

"He doesn't look anything like Buck," Buck says. "No offense," he says to the guy, who shrugs and takes a drink of his beer.

"I don't even know what he's talking about," the guy says. "We were talking baseball, and he said it. Who's Buck?"

"That's Buck," Bucky says, pointing at Buck. "But you could also be Buck."

"He could not," Buck hisses, control slipping as Bucky takes his hand off Buck's leg and puts it on top of the table.

"Oh, sure, it's in the eyes."

Buck stares at Bucky, waiting for him to laugh and admit he's teasing. He's still looking at Buck with wide, innocent eyes. "See, now your eyes are pretty good, but this guy's eyes--"

Buck stands and grabs Bucky by the arm. He yanks him to his feet. "Excuse us," he says to the guy, who looks confused.

"Uh-huh," the guy says.

Bucky doesn't say anything as Buck leads him out the back door of the pub. He's grinning when Buck turns and pushes him against the wall.

"Trying to get under my skin?" Buck asks, crowding Bucky so he can't get away. Can't wander back into the pub and talk to some other guy.

"Seems like it worked," Bucky replies, and there's no more innocence in his face or his voice. His eyes are half-lidded, his mouth settled into a smirk. "What's the problem? I just said he looked like--"

"Don't you dare," Buck snaps. He grabs Bucky's chin and kisses him harshly. Bucky bites Buck's lip in response, and Buck responds by digging his fingers hard and mean into Buck's hip through his trousers.

When Buck yanks back, Bucky rests his head against the wall and makes a show of licking his lower lip. He looks pleased as can be, loose-limbed and utterly unafraid.

"You done riling me up?" Buck asks.

Bucky laughs. He reaches out and pulls Buck in close. "Why would I stop when it's so fun to make you snap?" he asks. "Jealously looks great on you."

"You're out of your mind."

Bucky pulls Buck in for another kiss. it's softer, but Buck can't quite keep it all nice. He tilts Buck's head where he wants it and stands on his toes to get a little more leverage.

Bucky responds with a groan and a small slide down the wall, just enough that Buck can really take advantage.

Buck keeps grabbing at Bucky. His hips. His waist. His wrists. He can't get enough. Can't stop himself needing to make sure Bucky knows who he's kissing.

"Buck," Bucky sighs when Buck slides their mouths apart and bites his earlobe. "Fuck, you are so perfect like this."

"Like what?" Buck rasps in his ear.

"Like my Buck," Bucky says. "My only Buck."

Buck shivers and pulls at Bucky's collar to bite his collarbone, then drags their mouths back together. "Take me back to the barracks, Major. We need to make sure you know who your Buck is."

"Sir, yes, sir," Bucky mutters and holds Buck's waist until Buck slows down, then stops grabbing and marking him. "It's only you, Buck," he murmurs.

Buck feels calm flood his body, and he sags against Bucky. "I don't know why I'm like this with you," he says.

"I love it, for the record," Bucky says. "That's why I bring it out."

Buck laughs and presses his cheek to Bucky's. "You're an ass, Bucky."

Bucky chuckles into his ear. "And I'm all yours."

#fic #prompts #jealousy #posessiveness #bucksquared #buck/buck #goose #bucky egan #buck cleven #masters of the air

[chelseeebe]

two time.

summary: steve always seems to end up calling nancy when he's drunk but you can't help but text a certain metal head. i wonder what inspired this one, hmm. it's a modern!steve au but barely. also fratboy!steve which makes me feral, might do a part two on them falling in loooove <3 the 1975 - tootimetootimetootime

read angel (part two)

you were once again sat on your dorm bed, steve harrington laying down on the other side. you weren't sure as to what was really going on between you two but it was fun nonetheless. your friends had described it as a 'situationship' wherein you weren't exactly in a relationship with him but you both weren't single either.

it didn't matter to you, you had good, no, great sex and also got to enjoy going on dates without the experience of sleazy scumbags. not to mention, a protector at his quite frankly sordid frat parties.

everybody knew you were together, not together ish. your friends had warned you about him when you first hooked up, telling you he would 'fuck and chuck' you as they so pleasantly described. but he was different with you, yeah he was a bit of a dick but it only attracted you more.

'i see nancy wheeler was called last night,' as you scroll through his call list, you didn't mind really, but you know it absolutely riled him up. an activity that you thoroughly enjoyed.

'i only called her one time, trying to get ahold of you,' he looks up at you, his frat had hosted one of their infamous parties last night. and as always steve had ended up back in your dorm.

you shake your head, imitating a game show buzzer, 'try again.'

'well, maybe it was two times, you weren't answering!' he's trying to grab his phone from your hand, which you hold just above his grasp.

'wrong, again! god, steve you're awful at this game,' you taunt him by waving the phone in the air.

'i know it can't be more than three times!' he was sat up now, reaching for his phone.

he manages to grab the phone, wrapping his hand around your wrist and wrestling you down onto the bed. his body now looming above yours.

'five times, steve!' you giggle, your gaze landing on his lips, now only a few centimetres from yours.

'yeah well, i've seen your phone and you're not innocent either, babe,' he swings his leg over your waist, now straddling you.

'mmm, and what is it that i do? i'm an angel, thank you very much,' your wrist is still firmly in his hand, now pressed against the pillow above your head.

he scoffs, 'don't act like you don't text eddie anytime you've had a drink,' you can feel his dick hardening through his boxers.

this was exactly why you loved to provoke him so much. it turned him on, and then you'd get some absolutely mind-blowing sex as a result.

you feigned shock, a sarcastic gasp leaving your mouth, 'hmm, at least eddie wants me back, can't say the same for nancy, bro,' adding the 'bro' was the cherry on top, he hated it when you called him bro or dude, anything that indicated he was just a friend to you.

'oh yeah? does eddie get to fuck you like this?' his lips smash against yours finally. his hips rutting against yours, causing a small moan to escape into the kiss.

your pajama shorts are discarded quickly, his thumb now circling your clit.

your free hand tangles in his hair, tugging it lightly. your hips buck up against him, urging him to hurry up and just fuck you already.

he taps his cock on your entrance, wanting to tease you further. it was only fair, right?

'steve,' you groan, 'fuck me already,' his eyes are full of lust, he just wanted to make you beg for it.

he slides into you with a grunt, your legs finding their position wrapped around his waist. you give his hair another light yank as he finds his rhythm. a whine slips out as his thumb presses onto your sensitive clit.

your wooden headboard matches his rhythm, tapping the wall with a loud knock. your neighbour offers a loud bang on the wall in response.

steve just grins, as you turn to giggle into his forearm planted firmly next to your head.

'you..never answered me,' he mumbles into your now exposed neck, leaving a trail of unmistakable purple bruises down onto your collarbones.

'w-what?' your hips jut up, matching the cadence of his thrusts.

'does eddie fuck you like this?' he slams into you harder, his weight pressing down on your wrist.

'n-no,' you murmur, a small whimper leaves your lips as your impending orgasm builds up, his thumb still massaging your now swollen clit.

'what'd you say? speak up,' his pace falters as he's reaching his climax.

'no! fuck st-steve..he doesn't!' you grip onto his dampened neck as you cum over his length, your legs trembling around him.

he lets go of his grip on your wrist, grabbing your jaw and pressing his lips against yours as he releases inside of you, a vigorous last few pumps as he groans into your mouth, still gripping onto your jaw.

another zealous kiss planted on your lips, 'you let me know when eddie fucks you like that, okay darling?'

he rolls over next to you, his arm extending behind your shoulders.

'you'll be the first to receive the video, don't you worry,' you place your head onto his chest.

'mm, can't wait to see it,' he reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers and planting a kiss onto your knuckles.

he could call nancy whenever he damn pleased if it meant he fucked you like that nightly.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 Who knew Copia didn't need his cock to be touched for him to cum? 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩(𝐬) Copia x Mary Goore 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 Smut (18+ only, MINORS DNI), hair pulling, nipple play, Mary playing with Copia's balls, oversensitivity, brief mention of Copia being restrained, teasing, Mary calling Copia a rat and a good boy, Copia calling Mary Master. 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 930 words. 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 Saw edits of Copia with longer hair and this was the result of the absolutely feral thoughts they gave me. I v much like the thought of Mary teasing and tormenting him like this idk. 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 𝐓𝐢𝐩 𝐉𝐚𝐫

Cool fingers drag gently up the expanse of Copia’s bare thigh. The tips brush oh so close to where he’s desperate to be touched then retreat, an action that’s so cruel after fuck knows how many minutes or hours of torment that he has to fight against the urge to huff. A chuckle reaches his ears, and he fails to hold back the shudder that ripples down his spine.

“You’ve never been good at being patient, have you?”

Mary’s breath tickles his outer ear. Copia tests the silk wrapped around his wrists, binding them behind his back. His knees hurt from being knelt on the floor for so long, but he knows that he’ll find his satisfaction soon. He has to. Copia’s not the only one who can’t wait for too long before seeking out the pleasure and rewards he deserves.

“Look at you.” Mary’s chest presses up against the other’s naked back, the close proximity and skin on skin contact almost intoxicating. “You’d let me do anything to you for the chance to find your release.”

The older man gasps at the sudden yank of his hair. It’s grown longer since the last tour, the satanic pope never quite finding the time in his busy schedule to get it trimmed back into shape. However, he can’t complain. Why would he when Mary does such a good job of pulling and tugging it every time they fuck? He doesn’t need a mirror to know that the strands are wrapped around his fist; he’s seen it in the reflection of his office window so many times he’s lost count.

Another pull and Copia turns his head where Mary guides it. Faded smears of black lipstick contrast with the stained yellow of their sadistic grin and the maroon of dried, cracked blood on their skin.

“What if I never touched your pretty little dick again? Would you cry? Would you cry like you do when I bounce you on my cock?”  

The whimper that escapes from Copia’s lips ignites a spark of glee in the other.

“Don’t worry, little man.” It’s a mockery of the name he calls Dewdrop every time he’s on stage. “There are other ways to make you cum, aren’t there?”

A tug of the ring pierced through the former cardinal’s nipple elicits a soft, surprised cry. The sensation has his dick twitching, dripping pre onto the floor to join what’s gradually becoming a small puddle at this point. It aches and throbs from the unrelenting teasing he’s endured from the moment they entered his room after Black Mass. It hurts so good that he’ll almost be sad for it to come to an end.

Almost.

Mary releases their hold on Copia’s peppered hair to start playing with the other nipple in tandem. His head remains tilted back as he humps thin air, panting and moaning. One of his lover’s nails scratches over a sensitive bud, hard enough to make his hips jolt but not enough to draw blood. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to try and muffle the salacious sounds that tumble out from his mouth but the sharp bite in the junction where neck and shoulder meet has him yelping.

“Don’t you dare keep those noises to yourself. I want to hear every. Little. Sound.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Lips part once more just in time for him to unleash a high-pitched mewl when he feels the featherlight, taunting touch of Mary’s digits on his balls. The end is just out of the satanic pope’s reach, climax creeping closer, but he doesn’t want it to end like this. He needs the feeling of Mary’s fist flying over his cock, squeezing in all the right places.

“Watch.”

Copia shakes his head and that earns him another bite.

“Watch as I make you cum untouched, you ungrateful brat.”

Forcing himself to drop his head, Copia glances down at his own body and tears prick the corners of his eyes.

“That’s it. There we go. Such a good boy for Master, aren’t you?”

The older man nods with a sniffle. “Yes, Master. I’m your good boy.”

Mary kisses his jaw and for a moment Copia thinks he’s going to be tender and gentle until he gives his balls a hard squeeze. He doesn’t care that it hurts or that Mary’s being mean when it has him hurtling faster towards climax. Those cold digits massage his balls, the other hand pulling and twisting his nipple and heat grows rapidly in his abdomen. The band that’s already been pulled tight repeatedly tonight is close to snapping altogether and a lascivious litany of moans fills the room.

“Cum for me, Rat. Cum for Master.”

On command, Copia pumps his hips upwards with his orgasm. His seed arcs through the air, thick and plentiful, as he sobs and shakes with the force of it. Mary continues to massage his sac through it all, drawing every last drop out of him until there’s a milky white mess on the floor and even on the inside of Copia’s thigh. He doesn’t stop until the former cardinal actively tries to move away from him in his oversensitive haze.

“Such a good boy, Copia. You didn’t even need me to touch your cock, did you?”

Copia’s mind is a fuzzy, post-orgasm blue as he nods. When Mary lightly taps his balls again, he hisses and shoots him a glare.

“Now, why don’t you clean that up for me? Go on, use your tongue and maybe I’ll let you rail me until sunrise.”

#spicy content #mary goore #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia x mary goore #papa emeritus iv x mary goore #the band ghost #repugnant #smut #fanfic #my fanfic #mine

[themculibrary]

Clint/Laura/Natasha Masterlist

all of himself that is good (ao3) - shellybelle T, 33k

Summary: "You're all grown up," Tony tells him. "You've got a wife, and kids. Why didn't you think about them before you chose the wrong side?"

Clint is a father first. But not all family is flesh and blood.

all this comes back to me, then goes again (ao3) - andibeth82 T, 38k

Summary: Here’s the thing about Laura Barton: Everyone assumes she met Clint first. After all, he had a farm, and he had kids, and he had a life that seemed like it came well before Natasha Romanoff and the Avengers.

Here’s the thing about Laura Barton: The real truth is that she fell in love with Natasha Romanoff first.

and as to me, i know nothing else but miracles (ao3) - andibeth82 T, 10k

Summary: Soulmark aside, she’d long accepted the fact she’d become attracted to Clint in a way that transcended him just being a comfort and a best friend, though other than casual cuddling and playful banter, they’d never done anything to push those boundaries. But while Natasha may have spent a lifetime breaking up relationships in every way, she knows that this is different, and that she loves Clint and Laura too much to try to get in the middle of that relationship.

Asphodel (ao3) - Sanctuaria T, 38k

Summary: Post-Endgame.

After sacrificing herself on Vormir, Natasha wakes up in a strange world of perpetual orange twilight.

Of course, she's not the only one stuck there.

for the half of ourselves we have lost (ao3) - andibeth82 M, 179k

Summary: Natasha says, "No matter what happens, this family will always be the one thing we have. We’ve all put each other through too much shit to let anything come between us.”

Clint says, “You know what it means to owe a debt, Nat.”

[a family picking up the pieces, before and after the war]

From Feral Beginnings to Found Family (ao3) - breatheforeverypart M, 75k

Summary: Welcome to the Barton Farm! The house is under construction. Clint is often away on S.H.I.E.L.D. missions. Laura's working part time, while caring for their one year old daughter, Lila. Add a half-feral ex-Red Room agent and an emergency foster placement to the mix and any ties to a normal family are severed.

What is their new normal? Could it be that the ensuing chaos will forge a found family that can withstand anything life throws their way?

Home’s not home without Auntie Nat (ao3) - PanicMoon15 G, 5k

Summary: Wanda's mind control had a bad effect on Natasha, but Clint's there to help. He brings her home to Laura and the kids with the rest of the Avengers, only to realise it may be his daughter who can be the one to make Auntie Nat feel better.

Auntie Nat needs cuddles. The Barton family is there to provide them.

i love only that which they defend (ao3) - andibeth82 M, 46k

Summary: She finds that she laughs more with Natasha, almost as much as she does with Clint, but for different reasons. Clint had his huge heart and his stupid jokes and easygoing demeanor that Laura had always been attracted to, his perpetually messed up hair and klutzy manner that caused him to drop a slice of pizza on the floor or spill coffee on the couch -- all of the things that had made her fall in love with him in the first place.

Natasha, for all that she was stoic and rigid and carved out of knives and battle scars, was warm in a way that Laura couldn’t quite describe, as if she was a perfect fit for the missing piece Laura had always been looking for in both a friend and a partner.

My Soulmate's Soulmate (ao3) - solrosan G, 3k

Summary: Clint married a woman with two names on her wrist – his, and one written with Russian letters.

nor need we power or splendor (ao3) - shellybelle M, 242k

Summary: She hadn’t been sure, at the time, what had finally driven her away from the training center, brought her to book a flight to Waterloo and rent a car for the drive out out to the farm. But when she had packed a bag and headed to the nearest airport, it hadn’t been her apartment in New York or her condo in DC or her London townhouse or any number of hidden bolt-holes she kept around the world that she’d flown to, but a creaking, busy farmhouse in Iowa. (Or: It's been a long journey to get to where they are, and it'll be an even longer journey home.)

Out of Darkness there is Light (ao3) - Rouko E, 66k

Summary: Loki, battered adopted son of Odin is captured by the Avengers and resigns himself to whatever punishment awaits him on return to the realm he once thought was his home. Enter an insomniac billionaire that sees something no one else does. Can his sharp wit and lethal tongue save the God of Mischief from a fate he doesn't deserve?

If he can save him, what then? Is he still an enemy or could he be turned to the side of good? Can a snarky God known for his silvertongue and lies really be trusted to become an ally to Earth? Tony Stark is going to find out.

ThIs fic takes place immediately after the Avengers Assemble movie and Iron Man 1 & 2. COMPLETE!

She's My Cherry Pie (ao3) - sheis-theslayer (Perididdle) E, 3k

Summary: If Laura Barton has said it once, she has said it a thousand times: no one touches the food while she's cooking. Especially if it's her pies.

But Natasha Romanoff never listens.

the growing season (ao3) - sweetwatersong G, 6k

Summary: Three summers Natasha spends at the farmhouse and two she spends at home.

the landslide will bring it down (ao3) - smallblueandloud T, 10k

Summary: Lila is crying, taking big gulps of air in between her words. She’s scared. In the background, there’s a baby crying, but Natasha barely registers it.

“Mama and Daddy just- they just- Mama Tasha, I can’t find them.” In her mind’s eye, Natasha can see her: a scared eleven year old girl, with her hair in braids, clutching the landline. “Cooper disappeared in front of me. It’s just me and Nathaniel, and I don’t know what to do. Mama-”

(or, natasha's spouses and eldest child dissolve into ash - and she is left to pick up the pieces)

til the clocks run down (ao3) - andibeth82 M, 257k

Summary: "I think I do love her."

The words don’t shock her -- not really, not when she lets herself think about it. She does believe that Clint hadn't been sure about how deep his feelings for Natasha went the first time he admitted his attraction to her. But Laura would have been a fool to believe there wasn’t something more developing, especially after being around them in the few times they’d visited together since Clint’s confession. It had been easy to tell how their partnership was becoming comfortable, a relationship as worn and cozy as the one Laura’s built for herself with the man she’s loved for almost eight years.

[the beginning, the middle, and the journey home]

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #clint barton #laura barton #natasha romanoff #polyamory #polyamory masterlist #masterlists #f/f/m

[fbfh]

Hi hi hi so uhhhh I don’t know why or how nobody else is talking about this but is it just me orrrrrrr do you also Constantly. Think. About. Leo. Valdez’s. Hands??? Like come on ppl they’re probably (correction: definitely) like really really soft and nimble and lean and slender and— oh my god I’m getting flustered just thinking about this!! Idk I think their just really nice to hold in general but also nice to look at (and the fact that his hands are always doing something? bro I— *faints*) also like…. They’re always so warm and the veins kinda pop out of his hans and his wrists when he’s working AHHHH. I have more but I think that’s enough going feral for now lmao

BABES I CONSTANTLY THANK GOD FOR ESTEBAN THINK ABOUT LEO MOTHERFUCKING VALDEZ'S HANDS. constantly. CONSTANTLY. first of all he has firebender type hands which if you don't know look like this

and they are BEAUTIFUL. it's exactly like you said my dear anon, they're wonderful to hold, lovely to look at and watch him work, if you like drawing you're SO going to draw the hell out of his hands until you've perfected them. And yeah they really do need to be doing something all the time, whether it's playing with your hands or hair or jewlery, or curling inside you or pressing down on your tongue while you suck on them and he's just fuckin smirking at you in that way he does that makes your stomach flip and sends heat burning inside you?????? all are good options tbh

and hHWSDKFSLKDFJS THE VEIN???????? THE VEIN??????? I historically haven't been as down bad for veiny hands as other people but on Leo????????? holy shit it's like michaelangelo carved it himself. david was just practice for making Leo and his gorgeous gorgeous hands. it's weird because his hands feel warm when you hold them but they feel cold to him?? like he wants to warm them up a lot bc they're cold internally but they're always warm to the touch pyrokinesis so you're always so so so down to hold them and if you press kisses to his palms or the back of his hands he will literally melt he won't even know what to do with himself but kiss you on the mouth

#op's birthday #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez smut #tw smut #drabbles #thirsting hours #oof it's always leo thirsting hours tbh