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#I can feel the obsession slipping and I don't want it to go yet
lab-gr0wn-lambs · 2 years
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Ok maybe it’s time to go back try again at watching lupin part 3. I miss my dumbasses
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uravichii · 2 months
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"best friends who kiss?"
character/s: bakugo katsuki
summary: recently, your best friend has been kissing you at random times. you have no idea why because he refuses to talk about it. either way, you're not about to let this to ruin your precious friendship.
genre & trope: fluff, best friends to lovers, angry confessions, reader is terrified of love but bakugo wants them so bad 😁, tw kind of ooc bakugo
a/n: i've been watching a lot of pride & prejudice and bridgerton scenes n i'm now obsessed angry confessions 🤩 + this is heavily inspired by that scene in little women :) ALSO i haven't posted in a year 😟 so pls be nice ik my writing's rusty in this :'D
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the first time bakugou katsuki kissed you, he pretended he never did.
"what... " you brush your fingers against your bottom lip, your whole face hot. "what the hell was that for?"
"what?" bakugo shrugs, feigning innocence as he takes a swig of his soda.
you try and trace back the events that could have led to the kiss.
you said something along the lines of: "i wish i had a boyfriend. i could definitely pull a cute guy off the street."
then you heard him scoff and say: "no man's sane enough to put up with your insufferable ass." ーor something more insulting than that.
you can't remember what you said in response, and you rack your brain to figure out what prompted him to grab your face and kiss you. it's impossible when all you can think about is the unexpected supple feel of his lips, its faint ghost still lingering on yours.
"that kiss, katsuki! you violated my mouth!"
"dunno what you're talking about. you hit your head or something?"
you blink and second-guess yourself for a second.
"okay, no. you're not gonna gaslight your way out of this." you swat his arm, earning an irked glare from him. "why the hell did you kiss me?"
"you're imagining things, idiot. this stupid game's givin' ya some serious brain damage for sure."
he stands up and swings his bag over his shoulder.
"where are you going? we're not done yetー!"
and he's out of the door.
was he drunk off his soda? maybe he kissed you to mess with your head. he's not that cruel though, you think. maybe he couldn't think of any other way to shut you upー that was something he always struggled with after all.
at least the second time bakugo katsuki kissed you, he was kind enough to warn you.
after enduring the most awkward hour-long study session with him, you decide to put an end to your agony by wrapping it up. you start gathering your things when he stops you with a calloused hand on your wrist.
"what?" you turn to him, your cheeks already heating up from his touch.
there are no thoughts you could read behind those vermillion eyes, and all of a sudden, you don't know your best friend very well anymore.
he walks some tentative steps closer to you until the back of your knees hit the table. he cradles your jaw with such delicacy you didn't even know he was capable of. he slips past your awaiting lips and presses his nose on the side of your head, his warm breath kissing your flushed skin.
"punch me in the face and scram if you don't want this, got it?"
you gulp and forget to answer if not for the gentle squeeze on your wrist. "y/n, you got it?"
"s-sure."
when you two kiss, it's different from last time. it's unhurried, curious, and so intoxicating. the kiss speaks: 'i want you. i want you. i want you' but whose thoughts are these?
he groans into your lips as if to urge you to keep up with the sheer hungriness that has consumed him. you try your best to do so as he deepens the kiss with a palm on the back of your head and practically drinks you in. he doesn't pull away until he hears the tiny whine that escapes you.
"shit, sorry." he mutters, avoiding your stunned gaze.
"t's okay."
"did i hurt you?" the quiet lilt of his voice surprises you.
"no, no. i'm okay, but why'd you kiー"
"bye." he blurts out as he turns to the door and leaves, as if he didn't just invaded your mouth and permanently tainted the years of friendship you two have had. you click your tongue as the heat subsides in your cheeks.
"son of a bitch."
the third time bakugo katsuki kissed you, you let him, and he didn't stop.
you had barely escaped death when you lost your footing while sparring with todoroki. naturally, bakugo yelled the poor guy's ear off and would have murdered him if eraserhead hadn't interfered at the last second.
now, you find yourself heaving in your bed. you don't know whether your hastened pulse is from the adrenaline rush or from the fact that bakugo is all over you right now.
he's planting feather-light kisses all over youー your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, your hands, and your wrist, as panicked murmurs spill out of him in between kisses. 'you scared the hell out of me. you have no idea, fuck. are you okay? are you really okay? tell me you're okay, y/n.'
"i'm okayー" you barely manage to gasp before he dips his lips into yours, desperate and frantic. tremulous hands find solace in your hips as he holds you, gentle enough not to mar your injuries but snug enough to assure his restless heart that you are safe.
your head feels hazy. your limbs ache and lie motionless, and though your lips could barely move to reciprocate his kisses as much as you wanted to, bakugo didn't stop. you tried to ask him about it the next morning, but of course, he ignored you and walked away.
you don't know when he stopped kissing you that night. all you know is that there was a line that was crossed, and your friendship was never going to be the same again.
bakugo katsuki is going to kiss you again. your heart thrums incessantly. whether it's dread or anticipationー you don't know.
you think about the sensation of his lips that's become so familiar to you that you've learned to crave it. it shouldn't be familiar to you, and you sure as hell shouldn't want it. so you do what you think is necessary.
you kick him in the shin.
"motherfー!" sure enough, he's pissed. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"
"what the hell is wrong with you?!"
"i was going toー"
"no! you're not gonna kiss me again and walk away and pretend it never happened. you're messing with my head, katsuki! it's not funny!"
"wasn't trying to be funny!" he barks back.
"okay, so what exactly are you trying to do? what is this? i meanー" you stammer, struggling to find the words. "katsuki, what are we?"
he sighs and shifts his stance, his discomfort apparent. when the silence lingers on for too long, you speak.
"well, whatever it is that you want from me, we're going to stay friends. nothing more, nothing less. that's it." your breath hitches, and you don't know why you feel like crying as you speak. "... so i don't want your stinky mouth anywhere on me again."
silence weighs heavily between you. sometimes you wish you didn't know him too well, then the hurt he veils in his eyes wouldn't be so plain and vivid to you, and you would have walked away by now without an ounce of remorse.
"i like you, y/n." is all he could say when he finally speaks.
you shake your head. "no, you're just confused."
"i'm not confused. i like you."
"katsuki, you've been bitchless all your life, and i'm just the closest thing to a s/o. maybe go take a walk or something."
"i like you." he persists. "i've liked your stupid ass forー"
"stop saying that. you don't."
"i do, and you like me tooー"
"what?!" you laugh incredulously.
'who does this dumbass think he is?' is he right? surely, he's not. then what are you so afraid of in the first place? why have you been counting down the days until he kisses you again? why do you yearn for his touch as if it's something you own? why do you feel so infuriated and so tormented when he leaves the room after kissing you?
you do what is necessary again.
"you're delusional!" you yell at his face, a childish shrill that's awfully familiar to your childhood best friend.
"jesus christ." he inhales sharply in frustration. "you're a fucking pussy, y/n."
you clench your jaw and match his glare. anger surges in your chest and bleeds into your voice.
"i'm not the one who chickens out after kissing their best friend! you can't even acknowledge the fact that you kissed me because you'reー!"
"do you think i want to chicken out? why do you think i run away after kissing you?! if i stayed and confessed all this shit the first time, you would've refused to hear it like the damn coward you are!" he leans close to you, his voice lowering into a ragged snarl that quickens your pulse. "and you're just proving it right now, y/n. you're always going to shut this down and deny your feelings because you're a fucking pussy. you're terrified of relationships, and it's dumbest shit ever. pathetic, really."
you rear back from his words. if anything, you always thought it was katsuki who was afraid of love. now, you can't help but feel small and vulnerable underneath his searing gaze.
"it's not dumb..." you shuffle uncomfortably. "what, i'm supposed to ruin our friendship for a relationship that we're going to break off anyway?"
"we're not going to break it off."
"how do you know that?"
"because i'll be the best goddamn boyfriend in the world!"
"first of all, gross." you scoff. "second of all, it's never gonna work out! you're going to get sick of me in three days max."
"i've known you since we were brats, and i still want you."
"you literally said no man's sane enough to put up with my obnoxious ass."
he smirks. "i said 'insufferable ass'."
"katsuki!" you fight the urge to strangle him and punch that stupid smile off his face.
"wasn't even serious that time." he grimaces and reluctantly continues. "you know damn well you can pull any guy you want, and he'd be the luckiest bastard on earth."
if it were any other day, you'd grin at him and say 'i told you so,' but your lips remain unmoved, and your eyes stay dim. you're afraid you'll never go back to being the same katsuki and y/n again.
"this is pointless, katsuki. i mean, look! we're already fighting." you grouch and tell yourself you don't want this. "i still don't want us to happen so while this friendship is still salvable, let's agree to stay friends, and whatever sappy shit you feel for meー suck it up."
in one swift motion, he closes the distance between you, his face hovering dangerously over yours.
"suck it up?" he breathes, his face taut in frustration. "restraining myself from you is the hardest shit i've ever had to do. it takes everything in me not to kiss your stupid face!"
he shudders, weakly resting his forehead against yours as if this conversation alone has exhausted him. still, he goes on.
"and everytime i failedー everytime i kissed those lips, it was... a moment of weakness, but that's the fucking problemー you're just..." he buries his face into the crook of your neck, a desperate attempt to escape your wide-eyed gaze. "i'm weak for you, y/n. every second. and it drives me fucking insane that you keep running away from me."
he rises to meet your eyes again. the cadence of his voice changes into something weak and desperate, stripped of all the pride and anger he's ever known.
"i love youー fuck. i love you." he lets the words hang in the air, letting the words hear itself spoken because for once, you're not stopping him. "i love you, so please... let me."
after much thought and another agonizing minute of silence, you lean in to kiss bakugo katsuki.
he kisses back almost instantly and revels in the way you wrap your arms around his neck and bear your weight on him completely. he kisses back ardently, his pent-up desires and years of longing etched in the way he seeks your lips, kiss after kiss after kiss.
when you finally pull away, you're met with a devilish smirk, his begging eyes long gone. you wonder to yourself when you'll see those eyes again.
"took ya long enough." he kisses you again. he raises a brow at the way you're caging him in your arms. "jesus, no one's gonna snatch me from you."
"i'm making sure you don't run away again, dumbass."
"i won't." he says earnestly as he props his forehead against yours. "and you won't either. i'll make sure of that."
you nod your head with a giddy smile as he pecks your lips again.
"so..." you say as you exaggerate a pensive look, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. "we're best friends who occasionally kiss?"
he rolls his eyes. "you're impossible."
"recite that speech again, and i'll consider calling you my boyfriend."
"fuck off!"
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TAGLIST [1/2] @uxavity @joy-the-reader @kiiraes @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @avocamich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @cosmonettica @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @r2katsu @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddict @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexiv-web @angelshimaa @izukus-gf @christiansdior @homosexualjohnwayne @uwiuwi @hirugummies @cupidines @loveisningning (bold couldn't be tagged)
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erwinsvow · 2 months
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An idea popped into my head that I feel you would write very well!
Rafe x virgin!reader. They are having a pretty heavy make out sesh, he slips his hand into her pants and then she just blurts it out? Like, "I'm a virgin," and she's like terrified. But rafe doesn't mind at all.
(also, is the 🪩 taken.)
oh my goodness!! I’m obsessed with this. no it is not taken omg welcome to the club!!!!!!!!!! ty so much for requesting 😚😚😚😚
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your night with rafe had gone as perfect as any night could have, dinner by the beach, watching the sun go down while you ate dessert, and then heading back to tannyhill with him for the night, like you always did.
your nights with rafe always ended the same day, crawling into bed wearing one of his big shirts and then making out until you were soaking through your panties and rafe was hard beneath you. you're sure that rafe might have guessed you're a virgin by now, from the way everything he does is so new to your body, reacting primally to every touch. the two of you fall asleep like that, and you feel tingly from your head to your toes, waiting for rafe to say something about going further.
you're sure he would. there's no doubt in your mind that he's ready to, and he's probably done this with a million girls before you-a thought that makes you want to cry, but you put that aside. you're rafe's now, and you know that giving him your virginity is part of the deal. you're not sure just when that'll be, since he has you in your panties nearly every night.
maybe it'd be tonight. when the two of you get back to his room, you head for his dresser immediately to pull out a shirt, but rafe pushes you against the door. he leans down into a deep kiss, and you let it progress, hands snaking into his hair while he holds your waist tightly, his own hands running up and down the soft material of your sundress.
it's a little uncomfortable against the door like this, but rafe eases you up immediately, your legs wrapping around him while he pins you in place. you don't mean to start moving your hips, grinding down against him, it's just instinct, chasing that toe-curling feeling that you haven't been able to feel with rafe yet. his hands snake further down to the hem of your dress, and then slide underneath the material to the smooth skin of your legs.
rafe's hands keep traveling, gripping your thighs while he keeps you locked in a kiss that has you feeling dizzy, would have your knees weak if he wasn't holding you up. his tongue pokes into your mouth, and you moan around it, not even wanting to pull away to breathe.
you have to, though. rafe's hands are at the waistband of your panties, and just as he starts to grope, finding where he can yank them down so he can finally do what he wants to you, you pull away, hands resting flat on his chest.
he likes you like this--hair disheveled, lips red and swollen, the strap of your dress hanging off your shoulder. he leans in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and then your collar, then up your neck.
"rafe," you whine, but it's easy to let him keep going. "we should stop-"
his eyes dart up to meet yours, pulling his face away from your neck.
"why would i do that, hm?" he kisses you again, but you turn your head away. "finally got you where i want you."
"i-well, i'm a virgin, rafe." it falls out of your mouth, even though you've spent countless hours thinking about the best way to tell him. you've thought everything through, how to say it, how to reply based on his response, how to deal with the embarrassment you're sure to feel.
"yeah?" he questions, pulling away to look at you in the eyes. still pushed against the wall, you can feel his hard dick pressed against you. the two of you don't move an inch, besides for the nodding of your head to answer his question.
"so, no one else has ever touched you where m'touching you?"
you shake your head.
"and no one's ever seen you like this?"
you shake again, feeling your eyes get watery.
"i'm sorry-"
"why're you saying sorry? told you to stop doin' that."
"because... because it's embarrassing."
"says who? hm?"
"says everyone. right?"
"no, kid. not me. you want me to stop?" your body melts into his grip. you shake your head again. "good girl. c'mon, get on the bed. not taking your virginity against this door."
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becca-e-barnes · 9 months
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Bucky pinning you down so you can’t squirm and he’s just sitting inside you while he tortures your clit feeling you clench around him. He makes you cum over and over until he finally cums.
Overstimulation + super soldier stamina = …
- 🍯
Dear God, I know I just don't have it in me to behave during cock-warming. When it comes down to it, I genuinely have no patience at all 😵‍💫
"You..." Bucky begins, pressing you down onto the bed before gripping your ankles and forcing you to flip over onto your front. "Have a problem with control."
With your face turned away from him, you can't help but smile to yourself. No one has ever said it out loud but you know he's right.
Being in control is where you're most comfortable. No hands are safer than your own. Except maybe his. You know he won't fuck this up.
"And you..." He continues, gathering your wrists behind your back, holding them tightly with one hand. "Need to learn how it feels to have control taken from you. Do you understand?"
As soon as you begin to nod your head, you feel him start to tape around your wrists, holding them together behind your back. Once he's content they're secure, he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror before he pulls you onto his lap.
"Legs spread over the top of mine." He orders and you do as you're told, not because you have to but because you want to.
You notice the way your cunt is already glistening in the mirror and you're almost embarrassed because he hasn't even touched you yet.
"Fuck, you're made for this." He groans, lining his cock up to your slick entrance and you wonder if he's holding his breath too while he slides into you, as deep as your bodies will allow.
You're obsessed with the sight in front of you; your own naked body, with your legs spread so far apart you can see how your cunt is stuffed full of him.
Being shorter though, your feet can't touch the ground like this. There's no way you'll get enough leverage to fuck yourself on him but as soon as you start to tell him that, he silences you with two thick fingers between your lips.
"I'm not letting you fuck me." His free hand roams over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples and then settling between your spread thighs.
"I'm going to play with you. I'm going to see how much you can take. I'm going to work out exactly how you like your clit stroked and I'm going to do that until your legs are shaking and your body won't let you cum any more. Maybe then I'll fuck you but sweetheart, that will be hours from now." His breath is hot against the side of your face, his fingers slipping from your mouth to your waist while he starts to flick gently against your clit.
"I'm going to start slowly. I'm going to do everything I can to drag this out as long as possible. I can feel every clench and flutter of this pretty little cunt and I'm going to enjoy it until you're dripping over my balls." At this rate, it won't be long until you're dripping onto the carpet, never mind over him. You dreamed he'd want to take control like this but you never imagined the way your body would respond.
"And then, when you've cum more times than you can handle, I'm going to tell you that I love you while I fuck you like I don't."
Update: Part 2
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yeyinde · 5 days
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The 141 finding out you've never had sex.
Just casually drinking, playing cards. A joke causes it to slip out.
body electric: the virgin edition
Gaz, the instigator, mutters something about not having been fucked in ages. this springs up a sudden surge of comradery, because, yeah. neither have they.
Soap's devote Catholicism (i like to imagine) leaves little room for flippant intimacy. he tries to be a good boy. key word, of course, being: tries. but the last serious relationship was years ago. back when he was grunt. he's pent up. abstinence, yeah? he holds it tight in his hand. but the thing about fists is that they're often mistaken for anger. Soap's a realist masquerading as an optimist. he knows whoever falls into his jowls next will be a MacTavish by the time he's through with them. and commitment. well. his comes at a price. a hefty one.
Ghost prefers casual flings where he doesn't have to take any clothes off. unzips his trousers, frees his cock, and then tries to pretend he's a real, flesh and blood, human. to feel something, anything, except a vacuum between hollow bones. but his tastes are peculiar. on the side of unhinged. he hasn't found the perfect body yet satiate himself with.
Price. well. with his bloody hands, he thinks he'd rather not dirty the same people he swears to protect. and divorcing at the age of 30 does that to a man, maybe. his role as a captain (an excuse in retrospect) also keeps him from unleashing his wants. the very same ones that are probably best under lock and key, anyway. it's just for the best, really. something he ought to do because the moment he has another chance to sink his teeth into someone's neck, he'll tear them apart. break them into pieces.
despite bringing it up, Gaz knows the real reason he's single is because he's pushy. he wants. so he takes. and then takes some more. more. more. until his gullet is full of the person he's obsessed with. carrying them around in his breast pocket everywhere he goes. the perfect mate. the one he can shower with unfettered affection. a deluge, in all honesty. one with the ideation to drown. biblical floods. trapped beneath him. he likes it more than he should, but. singedom, then, he supposes.
and then you roll the dice. admit, sheepishly, that, technically, you have them all beat. zero is always lesser than five, ten, twenty. but it's this misstep—zero, never—that catches their attention.
suddenly, you're not surrounded by kin but a pack of wolves. all hungry in their own ways, all starving. it just makes sense to quench their hunger with you, doesn't it? friend, ally. pretty little thing. so sweet for them. and perfectly mouldable. putty they shape to their hearts desire. the perfect mate.
Soap grips his rosary. the sign of the cross, heavenly Father and Holy Spirit, digging into his palm like the burn of a baptism. what's devotion if not pain? he cuts himself on the gold. offers blood of the sacrament to whoever might be listening, and leans in, sniffing.
Price's knuckles are white. he leans back, hidden in shadows. all you can see is spark of burning orange from his cigar as he takes mouthful after mouthful of smoke, contemplating. assessing.
"that so?" he doesn't even need to look at his Lieutenant to know that the man has gone still. too bad for you, it's not from shock.
Ghost barely holds himself back. keeps tight in his seat. fists clenching. unclenching. he has a good enough read on the people around him to see the unfiltered desire ripping across their face. scorching. but to bite, with his mouthful of jagged, seraded teeth; ones meant to rip, break, tear, would ruin you. permanently. unequivocally. and—
"wanna give it a go?" all eyes turn to Gaz, electric in his seat. eyes smouldering umbre. "i mean, you trust us the most, don't you?" us. it's stunning, he thinks, the way Gaz can weave tapestry in the air like this with just his words. one tangled like shibari binds. "and we care for you a lot. we'll be gentle. it's up to you, of course, but—"
Soap's bloody hand disappears under the table. you gasp. "yer askin' fer it, ain't ye? beggin' so pretty fer it."
"n-no, i—"
"mind your manners." Price. his voice is chiselled into char, authoritative; low. a lulling command spoken in a breath of smoke. "and don't lie, love. or i'll have to take you over my knee."
the tension is thick. Soap's arm moves, slow. deliberate. Ghost has clench his jaw to avoid bearing his teeth. snarling.
Gaz cuts it with a knife. hews compliance into your skin with a fine needle point. "it's okay. we'll take such good care'a you. make you feel so good."
your submission is a heavy thing. oppressive. the shallow dip of your chin, the blistering heat simmering under your flesh, burning right, is the prettiest fuckin' thing he's ever seen. he does clench his jaw this time. tight, tight. tight
until something pops.
"okay." you yield. head bowed. beautifully submissive.
when he looks around, catches the predatory crackle in the air. his hackles raise. immediate. instinctual. and ah, right.
it's easy to forget he's surrounded by a wild pack of stray dogs. starving ones, too.
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nomnomnoona · 7 months
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ATEEZ: The Morning After (aka Round 2 from the night before) HYUNG LINE
Adult OT8 imagine drabbles. Minors, please do not interact. You can read the maknae line of this theme here.
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The warmth of the daylight slipping between the split of the curtains hits your cheek as you lay beneath the softest duvet. You toss, attempting to dodge the daylight, but instead the movement wakes you. You stretch, allowing your eyes to gently flutter open when you kick off the covers. The cool breeze kisses your skin and you lightly shiver, not yet fully aware.
As your eyes open, you notice a silhouette sitting against the light of the sheer layer of the curtain. The silhouette was seated quite close to the bed, the duvet spilling out to their feet.
Then the smell of coffee steals away that last moment of slumber as you are jolted by the realization that the relaxed, seated silhouette had chuckled. You remembered who he was.
You look down with a hyper awareness that you're fully nude. In a panic, you reach for the duvet with your legs, but he kicks it aside.
"Hongjoong," you scolded, grabbing the pillow beneath your head to cover yourself up. The bed was now bare. He had completely kicked off the duvet while you sat up, hugging the pillow with your arms and legs.
"Good morning to you too," he chuckled. As your eyes adjusted, you noticed more details. He was in the bath robe of the hotel, one leg crossed over the other, his cup of coffee in one hand, while he held open a magazine in the other.
"Don't you have work?" you asked, trying to scoot to the edge of the bed with the pillow in place.
He wasn't paying attention to the conversation, "Where's the modesty coming from? You had no problem letting me watch you squirm while you were sprawled out beneath me last night."
"I'm sober now," you tried to defend yourself, hoping he didn't notice you blush.
He smirked, "Silly," a scoff followed, "You didn't touch any of the alcohol I ordered."
Hongjoong put the coffee down and stood to walk passed you to the bathroom. He entered and you heard the shower running.
"Can I go first?" you called.
Hongjoong didn't respond.
You walked up to the bathroom, but before you could even reach for the door, Hongjoong opened it and stood in the doorway. His eyes travelled to the pillow you were hugging for dear life.
He reached over to you and your knee-jerk reaction was to flinch, thinking he was going to yank the pillow from you. Instead, he gently placed the end of his bathrobe's tie into your palm, closing your fingers in to hold onto it.
"Get in," he gestured to the bathtub, "Since you can't remember last night, I'll remind you."
Hongjoong turned around and walked towards the tub while you held onto the tie, his robe unraveling in his wake.
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It came as a complete surprise to you that someone as obsessively clean as Seonghwa made you feel so dirty--but not in the filthy way.
"Come here," Seonghwa had snaked his arms around your waste to pull your body against his. You didn't flinch. You liked it--heck--you loved it. Seonghwa was slender but strong, gentle yet firm. He was the type who made every effort to be in the same rhythm and heartbeat as you were.
If you weren't done, he wouldn't be. If you were at your climax, he would be right there with you. The man's seduction technique was pure synchronicity. He never left you alone. He was always right there with you.
So even if it took him a long time to wake up, you waited for him and stayed by his side to let him know you'd be right there with him too.
"I'm glad you waited for me," he said, his voice now muffled because he had buried his nose in your hair. "I love your smell. This is how I want to wake up."
"What do I smell like?" you asked.
"Sex," he drawled. But before you could reply, his hand was between your legs, "Breakfast?"
"Do we order in or--" never mind. He didn't mean coffee.
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You stretched and then woke when Yunho's side of the bed was empty. Feeling a bit lonely, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, trying to gain a little more awareness so you could figure out where he was.
You stood up, not bothering to cover up, following the sound of the faucet in the bathroom. It was your first time sleeping over at Yunho's and he had been a bit nervous about you staying over. He had been going above and beyond recently to be hospitable, so you weren't surprised when you found him drawing you a bath.
"You're up," he jumped up, putting the bath bomb on the counter as he all but rushed over and let you sit on the edge of the tub. Before you could even speak, he pulled up a small basin with warm water and a towel, dipping in the towel and wringing it before he reached over between your legs.
"What are you doing?" you said with a laugh, tickled by the way he cleaned your thighs.
"I'm sorry I fell asleep right away," okay. Yunho must have looked up after care. This guy was really going the extra mile. You placed your hand on his.
"I feel comfortable," you assured him. "Come on," you stood, he looked confused as you guided him to stand. He towered over you.
"Take it off," you said with a smile as you tugged the hem of his shirt. "That's an expensive bath bomb," you laughed a little, "We should make the most of it."
With no less than stars in his eyes, he hurried to yank his shirt over his head, toss the bath bomb in, and pull you into an eager, delicious kiss, guiding you into the tub with him.
.
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Yeosang was probably the most confusing person you have ever slept with. It was a good kind of confusion, because you were nothing short of satisfied, but confusing nonetheless.
When you had met Yeosang, he was almost the textbook definition of "baby girl". He was sweet, gentle, and he even had a delicate laugh.
A few drinks down the line, he was beginning to flop onto your couch like a stuffed animal. You had offered him your couch for the night because he was much too drunk to drive. On top of that, you were also absolutely enamored with him. He was so beautiful, so fascinating to watch. You could have watched him sleep.
And then he pulled off his long-sleeved sweater.
His forearms were practically carved as his veins moved with every motion of his fingers. His arms were solid as rocks and your inebriated memory reminded you that your eyes tried to follow his veins from his forearm to his bicep to his neck.
You were seated next to him on the couch, stunned silent as he threw his head back, irritated that he chose to wear such fitted jeans tonight. Yeosang began to roughly yank his belt off, but failed.
Your last memory was the moment he grabbed your wrist and placed your hand on his buckle, his almost baritone voice demanding, "Take it off."
"What happened?" was his next question, 11:00 in the morning, clutching his temple as he sat across you at your dining table.
You poured him a tall glass of water and shrugged. You were intoxicated, sure, but not so much that you would forget the way he flat out fucked you senseless. You could still feel his iron grip on your hips. It was as though they were about to bruise.
Of course, it was wonderful. You would do it again in a heartbeat. You knew that he was someone who could get it from you anytime he asked.
You turned around and brought over toast, eggs, and a few sausages when your eyes locked with his. Your heart skipped a beat because he just had the most knowing smirk on his face.
He remembered.
"I'll have one egg," he said. "But if you're not yet sore," he pushed his empty plate forward, "I'll have two so I have enough energy to make sure you bruise this time."
Without a second thought, you straight up poured all four eggs you made onto his plate.
.
Maknae line here
1K notes · View notes
makeyoumine69 · 1 year
Note
Love ur writing it always makes me so happy when you post
For the celebration can you do breeding, belly bulge, and loss of innocence/virginity please 🥵🥵
Obsession
◥ PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader
◥ SUMMARY: When your father told you that you were going to marry the son of his biggest business partner, named Patrick Bateman, you didn't believe him at first, but eventually you had to face reality and accept your destiny.
◥ WARNINGS: Smut, hurt /comfort, forced marriage, forced pregnancy (kinda), loss of virginity, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering, nipple play/tit sucking, teasing, vaginal sex, creampie, belly bulge, Breeding kink, Praise kink, Innocent kink, Size kink, sweet dirty talk, multiple orgasms, humiliation, manipulation, pet names, horny hubby!Patrick Bateman himself.
◥ WORDCOUNT: 4.1k
◥ SONG REC: Mariah Carey - Obsessed🖤
◥ A/N: Finally, I managed to finish this prompt. I really enjoyed writing it, thank you so much for this request, I hope you like it!
◥ LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [BWC MASTERLIST].
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You were so scared and lost that you couldn't really believe it was happening - you wished that marrying Patrick Bateman was just a dream... but it wasn't. It all felt so real when after the super luxurious wedding, you rode in his limo to the Plaza Hotel for your first night together. Because the whole situation between the two of you was so rushed, you didn't even have time to get to know each other better, your father was too impatient and he wanted this marriage to happen as soon as possible. However, you remembered Patrick since you were children and all the girls around were always so charmed by him, even when he was just a little cheeky boy.
“What’s wrong, darling?” Patrick suddenly asked, placing his large palm on your knee. 
With a sharp gasp, you shrugged from his unexpected touch and turned to face him, holding for a moment to admire his beautiful, brown eyes. 
“Nothing.” You replied, breaking eye contact with him once you noticed you were staring at him for too long. 
You heard him letting out a tired sigh, and then Bateman tried to cuddle with you a bit, wrapping his arm around your slightly shaking shoulders. “I know that everything seems to be a bit messy but…”
"It doesn't seem like it, but it really is," you looked at him again, his face so close to yours that you had to hold your breath. "Literally…everything."
"Baby, please. Don't interrupt me, okay?" Patrick tried his best to be patient and polite, but you could feel his hand tightening on your back with each passing moment. "Things are really messed up, but I want to assure you – if you can be a good wife, I'll be a great husband to you. That sounds like a good deal, doesn't it?"
Shivering from being so close to him, you almost writhed in your seat when you felt his searing lips brushing behind your ear as he murmured something soft, something soothing, but you couldn't concentrate as the meaning of his words slipped away from you like a leaf in the wind.
“Pat-Patrick, actually … there’s one thing I didn’t tell you yet,” you mused nearly audible. “You know, I’ve never been close with anyone.”
“What do you mean?”
As soon as you opened your mouth to respond, the limo stopped and you both looked into the window to see the beautiful illumination of the Plaza. 
“Oh thank God, we’re finally here … I really hate NY in this time of the day, because of these fucking traffic jams.” 
Bateman’s rants still resound behind your back even when you got outside. Gently, he held your waist for support as you moved to the entrance to the grand hotel, your hand kept fixing the hem of your massive dress. 
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It was not surprising that Patrick chose a luxury presidential suite for you, with large rooms and high ceiling above. You couldn't hide your fascination and that made him smirk loftily whilst he was helping you to remove your half-coat. Little by little, you moved to what was supposed to be a living room and took a seat on the huge black leather couch, suppressing growing anxiety inside your chest. 
“Do you like this place?” Patrick looked at you before letting out a short whistle, removing his jacket. 
“Yes, it’s really nice.” Smiling timidly, you clutched at the skirt of your dress once you saw him coming closer. 
“Uh, you always loved fancy things, darling,” he sat next to you, throwing his leg over another and placing his hand on the back of the couch, almost touching your shaky shoulders. “Well, nothing's too good for my wifey.”
His kiss on your lips was so sudden that it sent a million chills down your spine, causing your lungs to cramp from the lack of oxygen. At first, you clawed frantically at his solid biceps as you felt his hot tongue slide against your mouth in a demanding manner. You jolted once you gave him what he wanted, because this kiss was nothing compared to the one you shared at the wedding - it was much more passionate, but still you couldn't relax.
“Pat-Patrick, please … wait,” you whispered as your voice shook, searching for his brown eyes which now were dark as a midnight sky. “You must know one very important thing.”
“What is it, my dear?” 
"I'm..." you stuttered from the way he was staring at you, his hungry gaze literally eating you alive. "I'm a virgin, Patrick."
He frowned for a moment, then laughed uproariously before pulling up the hem of your dress, messing with its countless layers. "You can't be serious."
His reaction really embarrassed you, so you just pushed his big palm away and got up, leaving him on the couch with a disappointed grimace on his face.
"Hey! Where are you going?" He asked annoyingly, his golden Rolex wiggling on his wrist as he raised his hands in confusion.
"I want to get off this dress and change into something else," you complained, trying to reach the ties at the back of your dress to undo them. "I hate it!"
It was as if he hadn't even noticed your ranting when he rejoined you: "And what about that guy from college who was hovering around you like a fucking shark? Poor guy missed his chance to get a bite of a delicious pie like you?"
Gritting your teeth, you shrugged at the unpleasant sensation and shouted: "Don't you dare talk about him like that!"
He chuckled again, in his natural haughty way. "He was always a loser, and I always knew you would be mine."
You were almost done with the ties, but as soon as you heard his last words, you froze, feeling something snap in your mind. "What did you just say?"
Bateman's grin grew even wider as you turned to face him, with an unhidden dread in your eyes. "I said I always get what I want..." He stood up and walked over to the large coffee table near the couch, taking a glass and pouring some red liquid into it. "Wine?"
When you didn't answer, he took a sip of alcohol before continuing his malicious confession: "As you probably remember, my dear (Y/N), my father wanted me to marry," with every word he said, Patrick was slowly closing the distance between the two of you. "And he also wanted me to have an heir. The American dream family, that really works best for a good social reputation".
He paused, standing almost face to face with you, you could feel his expensive perfume enveloping you like a mist. “And?” 
Your curiosity made him sneer with delight, so he cupped your cheek and looked down at you, murmuring softly as if trying to lull you into a fake sense of comfort. "And then there was a business meeting with your father where I remembered you as the ideal candidate to be my wife," he smiled almost lovingly, stroking your cheekbone and placing a tender kiss on your temple. "Too bad you couldn't see the look on your father's face when we talked about it, he was as happy as if he'd won a fucking billion dollars."
Stifling the immense pain in your heart, you closed your eyes and almost fell into his embrace from the feeling of being so miserable in this selfish world. His words only proved your thoughts about being just a figure in another chase game of your dad, and according to what Bateman just told you - your father won a jackpot by forcing you to marry the son of his biggest business partner.
“But to be fair, I didn’t expect to be that lucky …” he murmured before pulling you closer, his hands traveling around your lower back. “… to get such an innocent flower.”
When Patrick kissed you on lips again, you didn’t even struggle as the dark void inside your soul was consuming all of your thoughts and feelings, leaving you completely empty. With no rush, Bateman was undoing the rest of the ties on your dress as if he was unwrapping his most desirable gift. Your throat shivered in a choked gasp, as your body was traitorously responding to each touch he made, especially when his large palms ran across your boobs to give them a slight squash. 
"Baby, you don't have to be afraid of me." His suddenly charming voice sounded like honey, so sweet and stringy. 
"I'm not afraid," you stared up at him, catching his hands that were now caressing your thighs. "I'm so... so fucking disappointed."
"It's understandable."
"But not for you," you scowled a bit, biting your lip to keep the salty tears from welling up in your eyes. "I'm just a toy for you... just like for my beloved father."
Suddenly Patrick's eyebrows knitted, making him look a little frustrated. "No, you're not."
"Enough lies," you wanted to push him away, but he only held you tightly, forcing you to keep eye contact with him. "This is all so fake!"
"Maybe everything around us is fake, but we are not..." he gently traced a finger along your cheek, moving down to outline your trembling lips. "We're real, and when I said I'd take care of you, it wasn't a lie."
The way he looked at you was literally captivating, it caught you off guard and you couldn't help but breathe out sharply as his plump lips nestled against the sensitive spot on your neck. 
"Pat... Patrick," your hands clung to his shoulders as you desperately searched for protection, and your inner nature told you that he could do it - his strong arms were like a shield between you and the whole world. "I really want to make it work, but..."
Bateman didn't allow you to finish, pressing his thumb against your mouth and then lifting you up as if you weighed nothing as he walked into the big, fashionable bedroom. Shaking slightly, you closed your eyes from the sense of unreality that clouded your mind like the strongest alcohol.
Did he just say he was going to take care of you? 
The man you had always known as a total egoist, who loved no one but himself, now covered your small frame from above as he laid you on the king-size bed, planting little kisses on your cheek before settling on his knees, undoing his tie and unbuttoning his white shirt.
"You look gorgeous, (Y/N)," he mused, taking your leg to peck at your ankle, causing your back to arch at his unexpected tenderness. "As you always do."
Cautiously, Patrick slid down your luxury wedding dress, exposing your bare skin that was not hidden under your beautiful white lingerie - just a glimpse of it made him swallow hard, and when you gave him your most innocent look, he licked his lips briefly as his nostrils began to turn red.
Panting barely audibly, Bateman stood on the floor to remove his clothes, not wasting a moment to admire your embarrassed face, the more naked he became, the more noticeably you began to fidget.
"Come here, darling." He purred like a cat and beckoned you over to sit on the edge of the bed.
There was something sweet about him, as all the girls always said when they saw him, which was probably the reason why you couldn't resist him as you obeyed and knelt beside him, waiting for his next move.
“Babydoll,” he stroked your cheekbone, and you closed your eyes again from the blissful sensation of his warm palm. “Tonight, I’m gonna guide you into the world of pure pleasure … ”
You shuddered at his promise as your insides tightened like a spring - that strange sensation was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"You'll never be the same after this, sweetheart." Bateman crooned, wrapping his hand around your neck, not to hurt you, but to make you feel his unspoken dominance.
“A-ahh,” your low moan caressed his ears and that was one of the most delighted things he ever heard. “What do you want me to do?”
Your hasty question impelled him to humm in absolute adoration, as Patrick drew near your mouth to kiss you hungirly, never in your life someone was kissing you like that, sucking on your lips one by one and biting them a bit, making you literally melt in his strong arms.
"Be yourself, (Y/N)," he whispered into your ear, hugging your shoulders before pushing on them determinedly, and now you were sprawled on the bed beneath him. "You're incredible just the way you are."
Trembling, you wanted to scream as his words worshiped your broken soul, even if he was only doing it to befuddle you and get what he wanted - in that moment, you didn't care as the strange, burning desire grew from the inside, corrupting your innocent mind by the second.
Delicately, Bateman darted his soft fingers against your belly, sliding them up to your heavy breasts, teasing your nipples with light strokes, you gasped from that contact, creasing the blanket and spreading your legs that allowed him to rest himself more comfortably. 
“Good girl,” he praised you and pulled down the straps of your lingerie to expose your extremely hard peaks. “Mmm … my sweet, little girl.” He gave one of them a few licks, before he took it into his hot mouth, sucking it with pure delight. 
“A-aww, Gosh … ” You wailed and enfolded your arms around his head, not even realizing you were pressing him closer. 
Patrick exhaled a muffled groan and switched to your other nipple, swirling his wet tongue around it so deliciously that the tight knot in your lower abdomen was begging to be released.
“Patrick! P-Patrick please!”
“Mmm, honey, you have amazing tits,” he huffed and trapped your swollen tip between his sharp, white teeth, forcing you to freeze in silent moan of pleasure. Seizing the moment, he sneaked his long fingers between your legs to grope your taut lower lips. “Fuck, you’re soaking wet and we have only just started.”
Breathing heavily, you look up at him from under your lashes with your dazed eyes, feeling his soft finger pads slide up and down your feverish pussy. Bateman stared back at you, smirking in his arrogant way, especially when you jerked beneath him as he slipped a thumb inside your panties and pressed it against your sensitive nub.
"No one's ever touched you like this before?" Patrick asked, rubbing your clit steadily, forcing you to bend your legs into knees to give him more space to play with. 
You tossed the pillows around to cover your face and just nodded, feeling his ministrations becoming more and more insistent, you didn't know how long you could stand it. 
"Mmm, does that feel good, baby?" He watched you from above, admiring the view of your trembling body as his fingers slid over your cunt like clockwork, making obscene, sleek noises.
"A-arrh, yes ... mmm ... so good."
To be fair, Bateaman knew what you were going to say before you answered, because he was absolutely confident in his sex skills, and you would remember this night for a long time.
First, he left a light kiss on your side, passing your rib bones as he descended to your mound, leaving a wet trail of hickeys. Fondly, Patrick opened your hips wide apart, and he had to hold them securely as he pushed your underwear aside. You winced because you knew what he was going to do, and when he finally latched his plump lips against your blushing clit, you didn't know whether to stop him or explode right here - his skilled tongue left you with no choice. 
"Mm-mmhm, ohhh God, I can't... I can't, Patrick! It's too much," you writhed on the bed, the tension in your womb too intense for you to bear. "P-Please ... ah, please ..."
Uncertain of what you were pleading for, you let him strap your legs over his broad shoulders as he lapped at your cunt without stopping, sucking your burning flesh and consuming your sweet juices like his favourite dessert. You were so fucking close to combustion when a sudden sharp pain ripped through your body, causing you to shriek in agony.
"Shh, it's all right ... I need to prep you, (Y/N)," he smooched the inside of your hip, slowly pushing his thin fingers into your spasming cleft. "Hang in there, baby. Will you do it for me?"
His voice was so soothing, so convincing. As you wiped away your tears, you saw him offer you a hand and you took it, letting your fingers intertwine. Patrick interpreted this gesture as a 'yes' and the next moment his lips found their way back to your clit, flicking it with his warm tongue and sparingly pumping your pussy with his expert fingers.
As much as he attempted to be gentle, it was still painful as he plunged deeper with each passing second.  "Mmm, I..." you stammered as you felt him add another finger. "I'm scared, Patrick."
"Don't be," Bateman mused after tugging on your little tip with a squelch, slowly twisting his digits and looking at you from between your legs. "As long as you're a good girl for me, you've got nothing to worry about."
Swallowing hard, you closed your eyes from the stinging sensation of your shimmering tears. You knew there was no going back, you belonged to this man now and he could do whatever he wanted with you. Still, you tried to believe him, it might be naive and stupid, but... you just couldn't deny your sympathy towards him, especially when he treated you so kindly and lovingly.
Maybe one day you would regret it, but for now all you could do was whimper loudly and writhe on the king-size bed in the most expensive suite at the Plaza Hotel as your lawful husband was about to make you his, now and forever.
After a while, your taut body couldn't take any more of the crazy mix of pain and ecstasy that was intoxicating your mind - you orgasmed so vividly that you were afraid you were going to pass out from the feeling of your inner walls pulsating again and again.
"Yes ... just like that, honey," Patrick murmured, his fingers still pounding into your spasming cunt, prolonging your climax and it seemed you were about to cum again. "Ahhh, baby, you make me so proud."
"Patrick..." your chest rose and fell so abruptly that your face burned from the heat, as if someone had poured hot tea on you. "Mmm..."
You only managed to squeak out as Bateman suddenly rolled you over, forcing you to stay on your knees as he sat behind you. Shit, he was so huge, you felt so tiny in his arms, especially when he wrapped them around you to plant a sloppy kiss on your neck, he could feel the artery beating so fast.
"You'll like it, believe me," he chuckled softly before pushing down on your back to bend you over. "It will hurt, I admit, but not for too long."
At the very last moment, a creeping fear took over your mind and even after several orgasms he had worked you up, you couldn't relax, knowing the pain to come. Nervously, you bent down to rest your head on your crossed elbows, his hot flesh poking at your tight little hole. God, he was so big... you knew it from the time you danced close together at your wedding, your inner channel clenching around nothing in anticipation of what would happen next.
"(Y/N)," he called your name longingly, stroking his full length as he spread your wetness around his engorged head. "I've never wanted someone as badly as I want you now."
Bateman lowered himself to lick your neck, and then you screamed loudly as he began to thrust into you, gripping your hips tightly as you instinctively tried to slip away. 
"Pat! Mmm, I'm so f-full, Goshhh," you tried your best to hold yourself back from crying, but the tearing sensation in your lower abdomen was too much to handle. "W-wait!"
"Almost there, darling," Patrick lied, as it was only the tip, but he didn't want to make the current situation any worse, so he decided to just keep going, ramming into you with more effort, grabbing you by the waist and almost digging his fingers into your delicate skin. "You're doing so well, mmmm ... F-fuck, you're so tight, baby."
Bateman really tried to control himself, but the way you embraced his thick cock was too blissful, it brought out his inner beast faster than he thought.
"Aaa-awww, so... so big, oh mmmm," your eyes rolled back in your head as he buried himself completely into your squeezed womb, your saliva dripping uncontrollably from your mouth. "Ah! It hurts..."
Without hesitation, Patrick leaned down to your neck and tongued your earlobe in order to soothe you a little, and when that didn't help, he cupped your face to bring you closer as his red-hot lips locked with yours. Passionately, he attacked your mouth, sucking and licking your tongue with a slurpy sound. 
"You will give me a child, sweetheart," Bateman muttered in a demanding tone before forcing you to sit on your knees and covering you from behind. "A beautiful son..." he thrust deeper, holding you by the neck. "...or a daughter...or both."
The sounds of flesh meeting flesh mixed with the squelching your pussy made each time his beefy shaft moved in and out of your inner channel, relentlessly hitting your cervix with its tip.
"Yes, P-Patrick ... I'll do anything you ... want ... aaaww!" Your ability to speak diminished each time he rocked into your body, pressing you closer to his solid muscles as he settled more comfortably on his knees beside you. 
"Of course, you will, baby girl."
Bateman was about to lose it at any moment from the way your tight hole was squeezing his dick, and your lascivious moans only encouraged him to fuck you harder and faster. 
"Do you feel that love?" Patrick put his hand on your belly, impaling you relentlessly on his thick cock. "Can you feel my dick hitting your belly? Arrgh-fuck, you're so delicate and fragile ... I'm even afraid of breaking you."
After his brief confession, Bateman took your palm and placed it on your tummy, so you could sense the outline of his huge dick sliding inside you, and that sensation literally made you choke on air. 
"I feel it ... Patrick, I f-feel it ... aaah," you threw your head back, resting it on his sturdy shoulder. "Patrick..."
You mumbled his name over and over as a saving mantra, your eyes now full of tears, and as if that was not enough, his hips began to slam into yours with increasing intensity. For a moment you found yourself fading away from the tremendous sensation of being so fucking full and abused that you couldn't even pronounce a world, only moaning wildly as you were fucking like animals, so ruthless and totally out of control.
"F-Fuck, I'm gonna make you pregnant again and again, mm-my dear wifey," he suddenly lowered his palm down your mound to rub your oversensitive bud, smearing your slick all around your pubic area and causing your legs to tremble frantically. "Shit," he felt you clenching around his dick as you climaxed so abruptly from his rubbing circular movements. He watched you quiver in his arms, your mouth paralysed in a silent cry as he kissed your temple and contemplated: "I wanna see your belly swell with my child ... I bet you'll look so beautiful, ahh-fuck."
Growling, Patrick closed his eyes from the surging ecstasy that soon consumed him, causing his whole body to cramp and his thrusts to become absolutely raw but ragged. As he pumped his fertile seed into your pussy, he didn't stop ramming into you, holding you tightly in his muscular arms until he was spent to the last drop. The feeling of warm cum filling you from the inside was so overwhelming that you didn't have time to be afraid, as if it was destined to happen before you could even think.
‘Just be a good wifey for him,' kept nagging at the back of your mind, your tears falling on your sweaty body as your eyes were wide open, staring at that one spot on the ceiling above with bitter sorrow in your chest.
From now on, you would never belong to yourself again. Not ever.
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6K notes · View notes
vampiresbloodx · 25 days
Text
warnings(18+ ONLY): smut, sub!reader, Dom!Wanda, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, teasing, blow jobs (on strap), spitting, slight praise, more degradation, rough s/x, strap on use, all of it is consensual, petnames use (good girl, baby).
emo!gf!Wanda uses you however she pleases and you gladly let her.
The first time she got a taste of you, she was obsessed. No, that wasn't a joke. No one has ever seen her been like this before about anyone. You bring out a completely different side to her than not even her best friend could know about.
Wanda claimed she didn't like girls, she always told herself she wasn't a lesbian and denied any rumours surrounding that.
It wasn't that she was ashamed, she didn't give zero fucks about their opinions. Maybe a little. That's what she was known for, her no bullshit attitude, the resting bitch face, someone to not fuck with.
Then she met you.
The cute adorable nerd who's too shy for their own good.
Wanda wanted to have you all to herself, and she did.
No one was allowed to touch you, flirt with you, go as far as to ask you out.
She would kill them.
Only you'd have to stop her from even putting them in the hospital.
Even if you were left alone for a few hours, minutes, seconds, if someone tried to come at you, she would randomly pop up out of nowhere scaring the hell out of them.
But not you.
She liked that.
She really liked you.
What she liked most was making you come as many times as she wanted. How you squirm under her gaze and touch, just one look and you're begging on your knees, it drives her insane. She has to use you.
You gladly accept it. Because you know she likes you. That's all you wanted.
You've had a crush on her for as long as you can remember, and you weren't the type to crush on people easily. Sure, they'd come, but they would never last that long.
And yet with Wanda, you knew you'd do anything she asked. She was the prettiest girl you've ever met, you just wanted her attention, her everything.
Wanda knew that too.
And she used it to her advantage.
"aw, is my pretty baby already soaking wet?" She cooed, slipping her fingers inside of your tight hole, moaning when she feels your walls clench around her. "Fucking hell, I've never fucked anyone who's pussy was just dripping, begging to be touched."
You whined, bucking your hips into her but she forced them down, glaring at you.
"now, you know I'm gonna have my way with you, I'll let you come once I know you've behaved well, don't move" she demanded.
Your body shuddered, somehow you listened, you always did.
There were times where you liked being a brat, getting the worst out of her was fun, however, this time you really didn't want to mess around.
"good girl" she cooed gently, her voice sending a shiver down your spine, she didn't waste anytime, nor did she back down with starting slow and easy, practically splitting you open with her fingers hard enough that'll make you cry.
Wanda smiled wickedly, watching your every move and reaction, your mouth gaped open, your eyes never leaving hers, fuck, it drove her wild.
"aw, does someone wanna come?" She teased, slowing her movements. "Hmm, it seems this pretty pussy is ready for my cock, don't you think?" She said, loving the way your eyes widened, pupils dilated at the sound of that.
She pulled her pants down, releasing her long, lengthy strap that she kept hidden to surprise you. It was one of her favourites she brought online. A cute, pink dildo that reminded her of you.
It's just too precious.
"spit on it" she muttered, watching as you did as she ordered, once she was pleased enough, Wanda's hands came up to your head, you eagerly wrapped your mouth over her fake dick, she groaned.
"good girl, sucking my cock so well" she moaned. "God, you're my personal fucktoy, aren't you?, my flesh light, you like that, don't you?."
She heard you whimper, causing her to smirk.
"do a good enough job and maybe I'll reward you with something else."
747 notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 4 months
Note
I’m obsessed with my princess. I’ll take a late night snack if you have one 🥹👉🏻👈🏻
Since I've been yelled at to make more brat tamer kook content: Here you go, some sweet tension!
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Jungkook has come to learn that you know very well how to get under his skin by now.
And you also, not just on occasion, make it a fun game for yourself to see how much you can annoy him before he snaps. Maybe because he's been pretty lenient with you compared to how he would normally like to go at it. He can't really do much about it either- his wolfblood constantly telling him to put you back into your proper place in the pack.
A pack he doesn't have, but that doesn't mean his instincts know that too.
Jungkook doesn't have many canine hybrids as friends, except maybe Yoongi. But since he's bonded to his own partner, Jungkook doesn't really feel any sort of need to care for him like he does with you- though he's not too sure why he's starting to get so attached to you either.
You're just friends- and even that would technically be a stretch to say. He doesn't know you, and you don't know him either.
But he can't deny the fact that he really.. enjoys this game of push and pull you two constantly seem to engage in, every bark sent into your direction only momentarily causing you to follow his word. Maybe you're instinctively able to really figure out if he's being genuinely angry or upset at you, or if he leaves room for you to try and test him on his threats, because otherwise, he'd not be too sure as to why you're just so good at walking that line with him.
And sometimes he has to admit, his fingers are itching.
Just like today, where you're just constantly annoying him by either repeating his words for no reason, or by making his job absolutely impossible. Though, taking care of you at your apartment and making sure you're getting the hang of normal everyday life-tasks wasn't really in his job description, to be fair. He's not even getting paid extra for this.
Why is he doing this again?
He's not sure, but he also can't really think about it for much longer, because right now, you've overstepped the line. There's no way you don't know what you're doing, and no one can blame him for physically acting on this, because how dare you.
You just bit him.
And he's reacting accordingly, at least if someone was to ask his instincts in that moment, a hand on the back of your neck pressing you down into your couch, while you growl to yourself. And the second he realizes what he's doing, he wants to apologize-
when he notices your tail wagging. Even this right now, is still a fucking game to you.
"Don't tell me you're pissed just cause I nipped your arm there." You laugh, probably sensing that he's not serious yet. "Boo-hoo. Now lemme go, I wanna watch TV-" You start to struggle, successfully slipping out of his grip- but he's not done yet.
He can't let this stand.
So just as you're ready to slip off the couch, he grabs you by your waist, just to pull you back, his body entirely covering yours, keeping you in place while he bites your neck.
Scruffs you, like the spoiled, unmannered pup you are.
And the reaction is almost instantaneous- compared to how on other occasions you've simply accepted and reluctantly agreed to his scolding, right now, you're fully submitting, tail between your legs underneath him, a soft whine coming from you. And it's now that he realizes, he's never had the upper hand over you, never had you under control at all.
You've always simply let him win.
Once he lets go of you, ready to apologize for acting so harshly, you instead crawl onto his lap, clinging to him, quietly. Visibly in need for his comfort again, desperate to get back on his good side.
Oddly how he remembers himself acting when he was younger, and scolded by his own parents.
Suddenly, you're not all that bold anymore, not even apologizing, simply leaning into him, rubbing your cheek against his clothes whenever he stops holding you. It all happened so quickly that he doesn't even process it that much right now, but all he knows is that whatever happened definitely got the message across for you.
"I'll never bite again.." You mumble into his shoulder, hiding away from him, and he laughs, running a hand up and down your back.
"No, it's fine. It just caught me off guard." He explains himself. "I'm a wolfdog mix, so I apologize I reacted like that. I couldn't really help it." He offers you, and you nod.
"No, I was being mean." You defend him. "Can I continue cuddling you? Or do you want to leave?" You ask, giving him the genuine option to go- and he knows, he probably should.
But instead, he shakes his head, and sits a bit more comfortably.
Holding you until you fall asleep, while he watches some random TV channel in your apartment.
439 notes · View notes
whirlybirbs · 2 months
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BEYOND THE VOID — !
1. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.
( MASTERPOST   |   AO3  |    SPOTIFY ) summary: torn from time yet again, it's thursday. six months pass. while you grapple with a newfound uncanny ability to premeditate, loki grapples with the fact he's slipping back into his old self without you. enter brad wolfe. now playing:  a whole lots gonna change by weyes blood word count: 3.3k pairing: loki / f!reader, established in from the void, with love tags: enemies to friends to lovers, soulmates, we-are-in-love-in-the-future but how did that even happen, angst & comfort, redemption arc, lots of time travel, loki season 2 (2020) spoilers a/n: finally, they return in "beyond the void". i can't thank everyone enough for the unending enthusiasm for this little project of mine. it's fitting to have the first chapter release with an eclipse. this is for all of you :) the beautiful gif for this chapter is from this set by @tomshiddles.
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"Okay."
"Okay."
There's a long stretch of silence between Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster. 
In the liminal stretch of the apartment building's hall, there's little sound except the loud drone of some horribly, desperately sad song beyond the door of Unit 1131. The two women share a long look with one another, and then Darcy gestures urgently to the door.
"Go ahead," she nudges her colleague. 
"What?" Jane asks in a harsh whisper, "No, you knock." 
"You were the one that said we needed to do an intervention—" Darcy argues back in an equally low tone.
"Oh, so now this is on me?" Jane fires back, "She's our friend—"
"Our friend who has been babbling nonsense about things that have not happened and has been seriously obsessing with that Low-key dude—" Darcy rushes out, bringing her face closer to Jane's, "I don't even know what we're walking into here!"
Jane inhales. She pinches her brow. With a long rub of her face, she exhales. Then, she knocks.
She gives Darcy a 'happy?' look before stepping back and crossing her arms.
Almost immediately, the music stops. There's the sound of a shuffle. A meow. And then, the door opens only wide enough that one exhausted eye can peak through the chained gap.
"Heeeeeeeeeey, girl!" Darcy chides, waggling her hands in the air, "Surprise!"
On the other side of the door, your heart clenches. 
It feels a little bit like a cruel joke, y'know?
All that wishing, begging, clawing to go home and — well... you are. You're home. You've been home. For six months, you've been home in New York City. You're back in that little studio apartment, with Sigurd, with your research, with your doctorate. 
ALL I WANT  TO DO IS  GO HOME.
You try your best to give both Darcy and Jane a smile, but it comes out mangled and exhausted and not quite right. You've been crying. Sort of par for the course these days.
"Oh, uh... Hi guys."
Sigurd meows.
"You got a sec?" Jane asks, raising a folder in her hands, "We, uh... Erik gave us some new anomaly data to look over and we figured... you're the one for the job! Y'know? It's... kinda... your thing... have you been crying?"
Your eyes dart between them both. You wet your lips.
"No. Nooo, no. It's..." your mouth hangs open as you search for a reason, "...Allergies."
There's a beat of embarrassing silence, and then Darcy moves fast as lightning. She wriggles her arm through the gap and unlocks the chain — almost as if this is definitely something she's mastered before — before pushing her way through the doorway of your apartment. Jane follows close behind, and Sigard squawks as he scurries away from underfoot. 
The infiltration is almost immediately regretted because... woah. 
Like, big woah.
Darcy has seen crazy. Like, she has an Uncle on her Dad's side who is totally in on the whole "they're coming for our thoughts" thing and does not leave the house without at least six layers of Great Value tinfoil stuffed under his baseball cap. She knows crazy. She works for Erik Selvig. 
But this?
This is, like, soooooo above her pay grade. 
Jane's jaw is slack. The folder is immediately forgotten on the kitchen island in favor of the wall-to-wall documentation of... whatever the hell this was. 
LOKI MISSING? in the center of it all, with string and equations and runes and news articles and tabloid pages. There's an alarming amount of photos of the God in question pinned up beside ramblings on... Time? And... Quantum mechanics...? 
There's another loooooong stretch of silence. And then, Darcy and Jane both turn slowly to look at you pressed against the door.
You swallow.
Your face is set in horror.
"It's not what it looks like—"
"Uh, dude, it totally is what it looks like—" Darcy starts, stepping closer to the board and pointing a black, manicured finger at a paparazzi photo of Loki being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower, "What's with all the Loki paraphernalia?! Need I post a lil' throwback Thursday to when he tried to kill us all?"
IT'S THURSDAY AGAIN.
You wince. "You wouldn't understand—"
Then, it happens.
The same thing you've experienced dozens upon dozens of times these last six months happens again: A rush of chatter in your mind, a cacophony of whispers that claw at your thoughts and flood them with has-beens and will-be's. A million things all at once, a little bit of everything from all of time, and then— one thread. One thread that stands out against them all. 
"Jane, don't."
Across the room, Jane's fingers pause on the contact number for that pretty S.H.I.E.L.D. agent they've met once or twice now — the one who is managing the Asgardian anomaly cases. With Loki missing, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been desperate to track him down. If this is a lead... If you know where he is...
Jane's face freezes.
Her brows knit.
Your face is split in panic. "I know you think calling Agent Hill is the right thing to do, but—"
"...How did you know I was...?" Jane's voice falls off, her eyes searching your face.
Your voice splinters as you step forward. "If you call Agent Hill, she is going to section our entire division within the week. Thor will be exiled from Earth on conspiracy four days later. We will sit in a cell for five years until they decide we have nothing to do with Loki's disappearance from Asgard."
Darcy's eyes bounce between you and Jane.
"Why are you saying all that like you know it's going to happen?" Jane asks slowly, putting her phone down and closing the gap between you. "Doc, what's going on?"
Your eyes flicker with fear. 
And then exhaustion. The walls you've built to keep this away from the others crumble with one worried look from Darcy, and you crumple against the kitchen counter. 
Your voice is far away.
"It all started that Thursday."
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You thought it would be better now that someone knows. 
Truth be told it might be more trouble than it's worth if not to soothe the burden of secrecy — because Darcy keeps treating you like a Magic 8 Ball that, when shaken, is going to spit out readings on the future. 
It isn't that easy. I mean, if it was, you would have definitely done everything in your power to avoid the commute traffic this morning. 
You don't know why it happens. Or how. You have a theory it has something to do with Alioth, but... without any sort of control, there's no way of knowing. All you know is that in those moments, you're presented with a weave of potential sequences. And in those moments, you can choose to act. Or not. 
So far, acting seems to be the best course of action. 
But, yea, no. No fortune-cookie-level stuff. No crystal ball, no tarot cards. Just... weird time-whispers. And a migraine that seems to never go away. And dreams. Really vivid dreams. Dreams that happen? And dreams that don't.
If it was a horoscope sort of thing, maybe you wouldn't have missed your morning bus after waiting in line at that coffee shop three blocks down. They always make your coffee a little too bitter, but the girl behind the counter is an NYU grad student you recognized from a mechanical engineering lecture you sat in on three months ago. You've got a soft spot for her. She's always nice to that guy in the baseball cap who seems unhoused. 
You hope it all works out for her in the end. 
But, Christ this coffee is bitter. 
You buzz into Stark Labs at 9:37 am, and you're setting your stuff down at R&D by 9:43 am. 
Bruce Banner looks up briefly from his work to slide you a welcoming smile. You return it gently as you settle down on your stool and reacclimate yourself to last week's work. 
Mondays, man.
Tony is, as always, later than anyone else. His entrance is followed by the usual boisterous chatter meant as a morale booster. More often than not it's a genius-level comedy routine built on absolutely torturing Dr. Banner. You opt, more often than not, to refuse to enable the bad behavior. 
Any laughter is buried deep into these readings from the Tesseract. 
And so this has been home for the last four months. 
Avengers Tower. R&D. Erik Selvig's Research Team. Theoretical Physics and Quantum Mechanics. Day in, day out.
No TVA, no TemPads, no Sylvie, no Mobius, no Capybaras. 
...No Loki.
But, plenty of whispers. 
It rocks you out of your focus, iced latte halfway to your lips as you're rooted in this little pocket of voices and threads and whisps of time. There's a thousand, then a hundred, then one. 
Your voice is soft.
"Bruce, try the equation again."
From across the room, Tony's voice dies down and Bruce's eyes rise to meet yours. He points to himself, with a questioning raise of the brows.
You nod, then continue to take a sip of your coffee.
And so Bruce does. Wordlessly. And, after a minute, he looks up with a grin.
"So it was right."
"Woulda never known if Iron Dick over here didn't shut up for one second."
Tony's grin is bigger than Bruce's as he meanders over to your lab table and throws an arm around your shoulder. He squeezes you gently. You avoid his eye contact — and in doing so, you miss the momentary grace of concern. 
(Tony has known you for a few months now. He knows you adequately enough to gauge that your triple-shot espresso should have been a sextuple. The bags beneath your eyes are dark. There's an edge there. Something jumpy. You're exhausted.)
"Now, that was mean."
"You're torturing him," you fire back lightly, non-the-wiser to his scrutiny. 
"It's called exposure therapy—" Tony croons, leaning back and thumbing through some of the notes on your desk. You allow it. 
Good. Still sharp. Still better than anyone else at what you do. 
"Exposure to workplace terrorism?" You rib back with one cocked brow, "No offense, Bruce, but I like you better not green. Okay, Tony?"
"None taken!" Dr. Banner calls lightly from across the room. He's working on the second part of that equation now. 
"Sure, sure, alright, Doc," Tony heads your words, raising both hands and stepping back, "I guess someone hates fun."
"Absolutely," you say blankly, chewing your straw; you point at him, "No laughter."
"None," Tony waggles a finger.
"Not a peep," you remark causally as you spin in your stool and snag your pen from the drawer behind you. 
"Any news on the other green guy we hate?" Bruce asks slowly, eyes bouncing between you and Stark. 
Your blood goes a little cold. Just like always. It's hard not to react — especially when that other green guy is all you think about day and night.
WHEN YOU LOSE HIM YOU WILL DO ANYTHING TO GET HIM BACK. 
You wordlessly shake your head. You shrug. Bruce turns to Stark. Tony is hunched over his bench. His words are a bit muffled by the soldering project he's turned his attention to. 
"None. According to Thor he just up and poofed. He was in the middle of atoning before the Buckingham of Asgard and... just warped on out."
So you've heard.
"Hill has been working every lead she can but... the Asgardians are a little touchy-feely on the whole 'earthlings in the domain of the Gods' thing."
"Understandable," you mutter absently.
Tony sits up. "Only time will tell."
...Indeed.
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Home.
Unit 1131. 
Lonely.
It wasn't before all this... It was full to the brim with contentment. It was comfort, it was bliss. It was indulgent mornings slept beneath the covers and bright music in the kitchen. Cheap wine from the liquor shop on the corner and homemade meals. It was "I finally made it". 
Now, it's none of that.
Because he's out there — and you know that you don't belong here anymore.
You drop your bag by the door. 
Your boots follow in a trail. 
Sigurd mews expectantly, and you scoop him wordlessly into your arms as you weave through the chaos of papers and books. Your carpet is hidden beneath a layer of obsession masquerading as research.
But, there's one thing that pulls you back in each time.
It's that photo. 
The one Darcy had pointed at earlier.
Loki is being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower. He's looking back at something, and his expression is broken.
It's you.
You know he's pleading with Thor at that moment through a muzzle, desperate to call your name. He's looking at you, being whisked away by S.H.I.E.L.D. as they clear the area, and your voice is silenced by grief. 
You wish you had called out to him then — told him you'd find him again. 
Regret is a hell of a thing.
Grief, too. 
How do you mourn something you never really had? Not here, not in this timeline. 
So you stand there, in the dim lights of your apartment, staring at the photo. And you cry. Just like every night, for the last six months.
In your desk, that magical little daisy made of grass waits.
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If they find Sylvie, they find you.
That's the mission.
Mobius M. Mobius thinks it's funny — back then, man if only he would have known that lil' hunch of his was right. Maybe a part of him did. And... Now? Things are different. I mean, everything is different. The TVA is different. 
Loki is different.
They say to be loved is to be changed an' all that. 
The first thing out of Loki's mouth was your name when Mobius finally saw him again — and then a word vomit of panic, induced by the death of He Who Remains and... time-slippage as OB called it. Lotsa moving parts. Lots to keep track of. But, ultimately, they're in a better spot than they were yesterday. 
1.) Loki is no longer falling through the metaphorical cracks in time. 
2.) Mobius did not get toasted alive when standing before The Loom.
3.) He never, ever, ever has to do that again.
And now!
They're in London. 
1977, huh. Zaniac. 
If they find Sylvie, they find you.
...Unless you find him first.
Loki isn't exactly thrilled. 
No, Loki knows better than to get his hopes up. Sylvie isn't here. He already told Mobius that. It's too safe. It's a damned movie premiere. There are no radiation burns, no falling stars, and no rampant gunfire. It's too quiet. 
It's a movie premiere and you're out there, somewhere, alone. You're... you're lost. He can't protect you here. He can't protect anything. You... You're all he has and you're gone. 
And he's here, wasting his damn time. 
Brad Wolfe is about to waste more of his time. 
Loki's gaze is sharp. His strides are long, and as they approach the fray, the God stands amongst the tallest of guests. He cuts a mean profile. It's times like these that Mobius remembers he is a God.
(It's times like these that Mobius can also see the ever-increasing edge in his partner-in-time. It's a little... worrisome. But understandable. I mean, rip a God's soulmate from his hands and see what happens, right?)
"So, he's an actor now?" Loki comments off-handedly, his irritation grating his heartstrings in a way that reminds him of who he was before all this. He hates it. But, he's angry. He will get you back. Without you...
Without you, he doesn't know what he'll do.
"Or he's undercover."
As they weave, Loki's brows knot in distrust. "Looks pretty real to me."
It smells like cigarettes and perfume, and the flashbulbs bite sharply into Loki's peripherals. The raven-haired trickster winces, tucking his hands into his slacks. 
On the red carpet, X-5 moves from interview to interview. Occasionally his laughter rises above the clamor. Each time, Loki's nostrils flare and he rolls his eyes. 
It's when he reaches the end of the line that Mobius moves in. 
"Will there be a Zaniac Two?" 
The look on Brad's face says enough for Mobius to know there's more going on here than just an undercover bit. Brad's laugh, as equally pained as his smile, just cements the fact. 
"Mobius! Woah!" A clap on the shoulder, a big hug. "I used to work with this guy!"
Still a show. Still a weasel trying to survive on his little slice of time. 
"We're going to need to catch up," he begins, backing up slowly, "You know, why don't we chat after the show?"
"How about now, maybe?" Mobius counters just as Brad turns on his heel and comes face to face with Loki. 
The God sneers.
"Woah. Okay, ha, whole gangs here!" he chirps, "Isn't that... great? Wow. I mean, you look — you look great, Loki."
"Why thank you, Brad."
Brad's eyes are manic, and he's searching the crowd quickly — no doubt looking for an exit. Then, they catch something. When Brad claps his hands together and pats them on both Loki and Mobius' shoulders, the two TVA agents pause.
"Everything alright?" Loki asks, head tilting in faux concern.
"Everything is great, actually, because when I was here," he begins, words quick and anxious as he tries to weave some sort of story, "I met a mutual friend!"
"Sylvie?" Mobius asks tightly.
"No, no, uh, better—"
Loki's jaw tightens. Enough of this. "We have some mutual friends back at the TVA who would like a word, as well—"
"Doc!" calls Brad after finally finding her in the sea of people, turning on his heel and calling out over his shoulder, "I got people I need you to meet!"
And just like that, it's like Loki's whole world splits wide open again.
In the fray of photographers and journalists, in the fray of drinks and the haze of smoke, there's you. You're smiling at Brad, positively beaming. You're bright as a star and Gods, there's no one in the room when you step forward with a laugh.
Your dress is green. Your hair is different.
There's a beauty mark on your left cheek. His version of you has a scar that lies there. A mistimed gift from Sylvie before their period on Lamentis. 
"Doc, these are some of my friends from work," Brad points, his hand falling along your waist in a way that makes Loki's blood boil; the ex-TVA Hunter leans close to your cheek, "They're the real deal."
You laugh into your drink, then extend your hand to Mobius. He's trying his best to hide his growing dread. "It's a pleasure."
Mobius takes it and shakes it gently. "And how do you have the pleasure of knowing our starlet, Brad?"
Damn it. He's losing Loki in real time here.
"Doc here did all the practical effects on set for Zaniac," Brad's eyes connect with Loki's — but the God is focused on only you... Her. Until Wolfe digs in with a low murmur meant to do just what it does, "She's a real wiz with her hands."
The God's face snaps. He will kill Brad, he decides. But, then this other-you moves to offer her hand and he can't help but melt. 
His fingers are trembling when he touches her skin. 
"Have we met before?" comes the soft lilt of her voice — this Variant's eyes are brown. They search Loki's face for a shred of recognition but all that's there between the two of them is raw attraction. A law of time and space unhindered by meddling hands. No matter where, no matter when, you will find one another.
Loki's mouth is dry. Your lipstick shade is a dark rogue. He thinks about that kiss back in the Void. He's stuck there, with your hand in his, when Brad bolts.
Her face contorts in confusion. She pulls away. But, Loki lingers. 
He has to... He...
He needs you back. 
Now. 
398 notes · View notes
cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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This is gunna sound confusing and Idk if you do him or not but could you do a Vox x reader where they have been dating for a while and Vox realizes that they havnt kissed yet and whenever he has tried or tries she turns away with a nervous laugh and says something to distract him and he finds out it's because she is nervous that she will mess up his screen like smudge it or break it (like when you touch a tv and the light warps because the screen moves slightly and if you do it to hard it can stay that way)
A/N i am actually obsessed with this idea. it is so cute and fluffy. it was so fun to write. Also, I know I said that part four of Cover Up was next in line but that part is gonna be NSFW and I am kinda nervous about it so....
Smudge (Vox x Gn!Partner!Reader)
Pairing: Vox x Reader
Warnings: Hurt/comfort (but you're the one comforting Vox mostly)
Word Count: 1,255
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List 
Alastor Master List 
Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.
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Vox had known Y/n for nearly a year now and they had been together for just over five months. At first, he had assumed their resistance to have any physical contact outside of the holding of hands, the occasional hug or cuddle in front of the TV, was out of a desire to take things slow.
He looked over at where they sat beside him on the couch, his arm draped over the back of the sofa.
That he could understand. What he didn't understand was how slow taking it slow really meant. More than five months in and they had yet to have their first kiss. Y/n had never even so much as given him a peck on the cheek. Vox was a patient man but it didn't stop him from trying, he leaned in. Just as his lips were about to make contact with the side of their head -- not even their face! -- he felt a soft pressure on his shoulder.
Y/n had stopped him, again. Their eyes met his. They hadn't even given him the dignity of a gentle hand on his cheek, of anything other than an apologetic smile.
"I need to shower, my hair is greasy."
Vox was a confident man. In his position, it was hard not to be. Still, the whole situation was beginning to weigh on him. Y/n must have noticed as the smile slipped from their face, morphing their features into an expression of mild concern.
"Vox, hunny, are you okay?"
"I..."
He withdrew from the warmth of their touch, fixing his gaze back on the TV. It was unfamiliar territory. He had never had trouble getting people before, he had no idea how to act. In every past experience, he hadn't cared what disregarding such a request as to not kiss a prospective partner, or real partner even, could do. The care was what made things complicated.
Vox was not a good man. He had never been a good man, not even when alive. Y/n made him want to be one. The way they saw him... they didn't want him for his power, his influence, his money. They wanted him for him. It was obvious. In every lingering touch, every word, every home cooked meal or surprise outing. It was all so new, so different. They made Vox want to be the man they thought him to be.
"It's nothing."
Y/n was silent for a moment. He could feel their eyes on him but did not dare to return their quizzical stare. It was all so fragile, their relationship, even Y/n themself. He heard them sigh and felt their weight shift on the couch beside him. The TV clicked off. At last, he met their gaze once more.
"I don't like it when you lie to me." they hummed softly, turning to face him fully, pulling their knees up onto the couch, "What's going on?"
Vox grimaced.
"It's... please, Y/n. Don't worry about it. Everything is okay, I promise."
Y/n raised their eyebrows, cocking their head to one side. They could tell he was lying. Somehow, they always could. From the moment he met them, Vox had the uncanny feeling Y/n could see right through his facade, to the very essence of his being. It was a fear, it was a thrill, it was a delight, it was...
Vox sighed, his eyes finding his hands where they rested in his lap. He wasn't used to feeling small, to feeling weak. He did now.
"It's stupid."
"If it is bothering you this much, it's not stupid Voxy."
The dam broke.
"Why wont you kiss me?"
His voice came out smaller than he'd meant it too, more frail then he thought it was possible of being. Y/n said nothing in response and tentatively, Vox looked back over to them. Their lips were slightly parted, their eyes met his. Y/n blushed and looked away.
"Oh."
"Yeah." Vox sighed, leaning back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling, "I told you, don't worry about it."
"No, Vox. It... clearly its upsetting you, let's talk about it."
"So, why wont you?" he prompted after a moment.
He watched them out of the corner of his eye, noting the way their eyes flicked nervously around the room, the way they fiddled with their interlaced fingers. A tremor in his diaphragm, his heart fell.
"If you don't..." Vox took a deep breath, "if you d-"
"It's not that I don't love you." Y/n interrupted, still refusing to meet his sidelong glance with their own eyes, "It's... I want to be with you Vox, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me for Christ's sake it's just..."
"Just what?"
"It's... stupid."
They looked up at him, the hint of a smile on their face, their brow furrowed. Vox straightened himself. If they were going to repeat his words, he could repeat theirs too. He took their hands into his, facing fear head on.
"If it's bothering you that much, it can't be stupid or... or whatever it was you said..."
Y/n let out a slight laugh.
"Okay fine, but you have to promise not to laugh, okay?"
"I promise."
They watched him for a moment, appraising the validity of his statement, before nodding their head once.
"Isn't it going to... I don't know... what if I crack your screen?"
Vox's eyes went wide. He couldn't help himself, he laughed. Y/n pulled their hands from his, hitting his arm playfully.
"Hey! You promised."
"I know!" Vox struggled to catch his breath, "It's just... thats what you've been worried about this whole time?"
"Uh... yeah?"
Finally, Vox managed to calm himself, looking over at Y/n happily.
"What."
"Come here."
He patted his lap. Y/n looked doubtfully between his hand and his face.
"Come here." Vox said again.
They rolled their eyes, standing up and taking a few steps towards Vox before sitting down.
"Other way."
They shot him a look over their shoulder. Vox rolled his eyes.
"Please."
"Why?"
"Just... trust me."
After a moments thought, Y/n readjusted their position, now straddling their boyfriend. They placed their hands on his shoulders, keeping their balance. Vox reached a hand up to their face, cupping their cheek gently. Y/n leaned into the gesture as if on instinct, their cheeks flushing pink once they realized what they had done. Vox chuckled.
"Y/n, can I kiss you?"
"What if I smudge your glass? Or like, leave one of those weird imprints or something on your face? I-"
He cut them off mid worry, pressing his lips softly to theirs. It was not a long kiss or a very deep one but it sent shivers down Y/n's spine, sparks to Vox's fingers. Their eyes met, Y/n was breathless.
"Not so bad, was it?"
Y/n leaned forward, balling their hands into the unbuttoned collar of his shirt as they kissed him again.
"No." they hummed, "Not bad at all."
Vox laughed. Running a hand through their hair, he pressed a soft kiss to their forehead. He couldn't stop smiling.
"I'm alright."
"I was right though."
Vox's brow furrowed and Y/n grinned up at him, raising their hand to his face.
"I did smudge you."
------
TAGS
@matrixbearer2024 @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @peterpankat @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa
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bedoballoons · 8 months
Note
Oh wow fantastic I loved it!! now I kinda want a part two to the whole short post what did happen after finding out there darling likes tall guys how will they comfort there rival
I'm assuming you meant confront! I hope so at least cause that's what I wrote! If not I can totally write a second one! Thank you so much for your request!
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─
{༻~Yanderes confront their rivals~༺}
This is a Part 2! Part 1:
CW: Fighting, using their obsession to get information, a knife is mentioned, Freminet trains you to like him, descriptions of blood, slight gore, confronting, yandere themes, some angst, and Lyney call reader mon amour!
(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Venti, Freminet, and Aether!)
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𑁍༄Lyney:
You knew Lyney was the reason Neuvillette had gone missing, it was obvious and yet no one could arrest him because there wasn't enough evidence, not to mention without the Chief of Justice...how could you have a trial? The whole of Fontaine was now in disarray, searching for Neuvillette everywhere and anywhere Lyney could have taken him, but not a single place had any results.
You didn't even know if he was still alive...but you just couldn't give up, thats what led you to this moment, honeyed words slipping past your lips and your arms around Lyney, batting your eyes at him..."Lyney, I'm all yours, Neuvillette is no longer a threat to that I promise. Let him go..." The magician sighed softly, so tempted, so enraptured by you that he almost gave it away from your beautiful eyes alone, "You know as well as I do mon amour, if I do as you ask...I'll be taken away to Meropide. Away from you..."
You bit your lip, wandering how deep into this act you'd have to go in order to convince him, "Not if they don't catch you, we can run away together... just you and me..." You kissed his cheek and he caved...unable to resist you any longer, "I can't say no to that..."
He reached out his hand, a card between his fingers...but it wasn't like any of his others, it was blue with a a outline of Neuvillette. "Neat isn't it?" Lyney asked when he'd caught you staring and with a snap of his fingers the card began to change, blue smoke circling around a spot on the ground until it sudden disappeared, leaving Neuvillette in its place...
"Neuvillette!"
He seemed perfectly healthy, shaken to say the least, but otherwise fine. It felt like you could breath again like everything would be okay...he could save you...right?
𑁍༄Tighnari:
You hadn't heard from Tighnari in over a week and you felt so guilty...after how hard it must have been to confess his feelings, you shot him down without even a moment to think if you really wanted to,... just because he wasn't exactly your type. Now he was probably in his home, regretting his decision to ever tell you how he felt in the first place...ever be nice to you at all for that matter.
You sighed, opening the door to your humble abode, only to see one of the most terrifying things even your nightmares could have prepared you for, "T-tighnari?" The fennec fox looked up at you with a crazed smile, a small hunting knife tightly gripped in his hand...the blade of it against against what looked to be a drugged Alhaitham, "You're finally home! We've been waiting for you...sorry to barge in uninvited but I had to show you that I was better than him. Let you see that I can overpower him, even though he's stronger and...taller."
You felt your chest tighten with fear, your hands shaking uncontrollably, "What... d-did you do to him Tighnari?" Meanwhile Tighnari was acting as if this was a casual hangout between the two of you, his tail swaying behind him and his ears twitching in delight, he even chuckled when Alhaitham attempted to mutter something, "Don't worry, he's just poisoned. I asked if he wanted something for a headache he was having and then I gave him something, it just wasn't what he had in mind..."
"Tighnari...let him go. T-this is crazy!" You felt tears welling up in your eyes, your body screaming at you to run for help and yet you felt frozen, unable to move a muscle. "I'm not crazy, I'm dedicated,...to you. I want nothing more than to be with you and if I have to make sure the scribe isn't able to interfere to have that, then I will." His eyes sparkled at the mention of being with you...
"...just let him go. Give him a antidote and I'll s-stay with you. Please Tighnari, don't hurt anyone more than you already have, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shot down your confession so quickly, but I'll m-make it up to you" You reached your hand out and he wasted no time accepting it, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, all of it seeming so innocent..
"As long as you stay with me...no one else will ever get hurt."
𑁍༄Venti:
You'd never seen such a war before...archons battling against eachother, destroying the land with power far greater than you ever could have imagined, all of this...because you couldn't see yourself with someone short, what was Venti doing! By now there was a large crowd of people, some from Liyue, some from Mondstat and each of them cheering for their own Archon. There were even fights breaking out over who was better....
This had to stop. "Venti! Venti listen to me! I know you're angry and that's okay, but starting a war just because I said I wasn't into you isn't the way to feel better!" You shouted as loud as you could, but he wasn't able to hear you, the sound of large rocks crashing into the ground and highwinds ripping trees right out of the land impossible to talk over. Was it a lost cause...?
You shook your head, unable to give up at the thought of your friend getting hurt...even if he was stupid for starting it in the first place...you cared about him. You swallowed your fear and gathered up all of your courage, running into the danger zone, barely able to keep your footing while you continued to call to the anemo archon. "Venti! Vennntii!!"
Suddenly the part of land you'd been running on ripped away from the rest of the ground, flying upwards with you holding on for dear life, "Venti! Hellpp!!!" You felt your grasp slipping and then you were spinning, falling back down at such speed you'd die on impact, you shut your eyes tightly, praying for everything to be okay.
Then there was a gentle breeze surrounding you.. lifting you upwards, the entire battle out on pause when you came face to face with Venti, shocked to see him in his archon outfit, "Venti please, I'm sorry. Don't take this out on Zhongli, don't make such a big mess because of me. I'm... not worth it." You looked down at all the dilapidated area beneath you...all of this for you?
"You're worth more than every world or star in the entire universe...I'd fight to the end for you." The anemo archon touched your cheek softly.., making you feel something you never had before..
𑁍༄Freminet:
Freminet wouldn't leave your side, keeping you away from Neuvillette at any costs... pampering you with romaritime flowers and ocean shells, convincing you in ever way he could think of that he was better. He'd be there in the morning with warm breakfast and a nice hot beverage, he'd walk with you anywhere you needed to go so he could keep you safe and...people were noticing. Most thought you were dating. Even congratulating you two...but he always answered before you could, thanking them happily.
Truthfully...he was training you to only want to be around him and it was working...
𑁍༄Aether:
"ITTO!" You screamed, your skin paling at the sight of the Oni you had been crushing on so much, taken down to the ground with dark crimson blood dripping from his head onto grass beneath him, his face badly bruised and beaten up. You couldn't even tell if he was breathing, your heart racing as you looked to the culprit... his face speckled with deep red flecks of blood and sickening smile on his lips..
"W-why...Aether, you're supposed to be a hero why would you...he didn't...h-he didn't deserve this!" You rushed to Ittos side, holding his large hand in yours and staring at the damage someone you thought you could trust caused.
"I did it for you. Now he can't take you from me..., now there's only one hero for you and it's me." Aether grabbed your wrist harshly, pulling you close to him while you tried desperately to shove him away, "No! Let go of me! Help! Someone help!!" You screamed frantically, searching for any other signs of people...but nobody was around? How was that possible! It was the city?!
Aether smiled at you sadistically, "Being a famous hero and knowing important people means I can say there's a need to evacuate...and everyone will just leave. No one...can hear you now..."
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ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚*⁠.⁠✧
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matryosika · 9 months
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The Look
Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader Wordcount: 2,159 words Genre: Smut (18+) Includes: Ex!hyunjin, mentions of break up and indications of an unhealthy relationship (nothing too detailed or specific). Possesiveness, a bit of angst if you squint. Infidelity? But not really? It's nothing too serious, anyway. Smut warnings under the cut. Author's Note: Wrote this TODAY. Everybody say congratulations on overcoming your writer's block Femme! It honestly has been a fucking while since I wrote anything, so this is news to me really. To be really honest I didn't want to get anywhere with this, I just felt like indulging myself with the "we shouldn't be doing this" kind of trope, so this is what it came out! Please remember that english is not my first language and this is not proofread, so I apologize for any mistakes in advance. If you like this, please leave a comment/reblog/ask and let me know what you think! AND if you wish to support my work further, you can buy me a ko-fi! The link it's in my pinned post. I love you for even reading me.
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Smut warnings: Sex in a public place (club's restroom). Unprotected vaginal sex mentions of a condom but they ended up not using it anyways. Lots of dirty talking and physical touch. No kissing at all because they're exes and they don't go around kissing each other, apparently (but they do fuck so... ?). Jealous and possesive Hyunjin. Creampie. Multiple orgasms, overstimulation, use of petnames (baby and pretty). Hyunjin is kind of controlling, not in a dom kind of way but in a "I know you better than you know yourself" kind of way.
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“He can’t make you feel like I do, can he?”
It's hard to think coherently and give him a proper answer when his cock is hitting the deepest spots within you. Repeatedly.
Not only that, but he's holding your hips in the angle he knows best. 
Hyunjin is right, no one can make you feel like he does. In every sense of the sentence. 
“He doesn’t know how to fuck you like this, right?” The queries continue, plump lips dragging along your jaw and chin with no other purpose than to feel your skin. Despite you two ending things, seemingly for good, you somehow always found yourself in the same situation: against him, or on top of him, or underneath him. “I know you don’t let him”. 
You're reminded of whatever he is talking about when you feel the rubber of the condom inside your hand, gripping it just as harshly as your walls clench around Hyunjin's dick.
He is right again, you don’t let your new conquer fuck you raw like he is doing right now. Shit, you haven't even let him fuck you at all.
That is not something your ex boyfriend should know about. 
“Baby,” the pet name slips off your lips and it sends shivers down Hyunjin's spine. It has been a while since he has heard you calling him that, but it still has the exact same effect.
Perhaps it's now boosted, considering neither of you should be fucking each other at this point. At least not now, that you've started dating men again. 
Nothing too serious, but you've tried to convince everyone that you're already over your ex boyfriend. And if by over you mean completely obsessed and desperate for the way only he knows how to fuck you, then yes: you are over him.
“Feels good?” Hyunjin asks through gritted teeth, pressing his forehead against yours. You can feel tears of his sweat mixing with yours, his fresh and minty breath fanning your cheeks and eyelashes. You nod desperately, swallowing thickly in hopes of being able to articulate a single, monosyllabic word. Yet the way he feels inside your pussy is too overwhelming to even let you form a coherent response. “Do you really think he could fuck you hard like this? Make you this wet?”
He could, but you're never going to know anyway. 
“That’s why you keep crawling back to me,” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels your walls convulsing around him, “that's why you keep letting me fuck you”. 
It was for the best, you repeat yourself every time he thrusts his cock deeper inside you. It was for the best, but that doesn't necessarily mean it was what you wanted.
Ending things off with Hyunjin seemed like the only way to go —you two just didn't work out, no matter how hard each one of you tried. 
You loved each other, but it was kind of a sick love, a poisonous one. One would think they'll be able to live through it, but it eventually consumes you.
It ignites a fire that can never be put down. And living amongst flames it's not exactly what either of you were looking for. 
“Right there,” you cry out, the pathetic sounds being drowned by the music and party bustle happening outside the club's restroom where your date is patiently waiting for you.
Does he know Hyunjin is fucking you just meters away from him? Does he know you're going back home with a sore pussy and cum trailing down your legs?
Hyunjin’s cock twitches at the idea of him finding out you’re being dicked down by none other than your ex. 
The one you claim to be over with. 
The one whose memory, you assured, wasn't a threat to a new relationship.
“Yeah, right here?” Damned be him, who knows you maybe too well. You suppress a scream when his palm digs into the flesh of your lower tummy, pressing down hard where the tip of his cock is brushing the deepest spots within you, “can you feel me here? Can you feel how hard my dick is?”
You moan in response. 
You can feel him there, and everywhere. You can feel his slim fingers pressed against the flesh of your hips. You can feel the tip of his nose buried on your neck, and his lips leaving a wet trail everywhere they go. You can feel his pulse, his heavy breathing.
The despair of being without fucking you for so long.
“That’s it,” Hyunjin groans when he feels you grinding your hips against his, lifting them up ever so slightly over the restroom sink. When you start forcing yourself against him, to do anything to feel him closer, he knows you're close to cumming. “That’s it, pretty, come and get what you want from me like you always do”. 
You have no other choice but to arch your back, the overwhelming pleasure taking control not only of your limbs but your whole body. You wrap your arms around Hyunjin's neck and your legs around his hips  tightly, pulling him as close as humanly possible.
“Just like that,” he praises you, licking his lips when his eyes fall to where your bodies connect. 
Hyunjin feels like he could come with that sight alone, but he needs to elongate it. What if you go back home with the man you're supposed to be on a date with, and decide that you want something serious with him? What if it's the last time he ever gets to fuck you? 
Hyunjin can't just come like that. He can't come without engraving the way your body feels inside his brain.
He can't come without letting his mouth speak freely what his pride doesn't allow him to say on a regular day.
Hyunjin can't come just yet. He needs you a bit more. A little bit longer.
“C-coming,” you sob against his neck, feeling him holding you tightly when your body trembles almost aggressively, “don’t stop, Hyunjin. D-don’t fucking stop”.
Not that he intended to.
Instead, he pushes his hips harder. Deeper. His hands move from your hips to your ass, and he uses his grip as leverage to piston even rougher inside you. 
So much so, you wince in pain. You don't want him to stop, but you can feel the built up tension exploding little by little. 
Like fireworks, one after the other.
“See?” Hyunjin groans, taking it upon him to help you ride your high. He doesn't slow down, despite how your nails are digging into his hair and the flesh of his nape. “We've broken up but your body still remembers me. You’re still so weak for me”. 
You hate how right he is, but you can't argue back. 
After going without each other for so long, almost 4 months, you didn't expect your body to react like this to his touch.
But it appears as if it has a mind of its own, one to which you have no access to. 
“No,” you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut. The waves of pleasure travel from your core to the tip of your toes, and from your erect nipples to the thin hairs on your arms. You’re covered in goosebumps and can barely even remember any other name that’s not Hyunjin’s. “I’m not- I’m just-”.
It’s pointless to try and say something back. You're making a fool of yourself and you know it, but it seems as if your dignity always appears right at the epitome of the post-nut clarity. 
With Hyunjin's dick still inside you, you know such clarity is not going to last long, but you're going to hold on to it for as good as it lasts. 
“You’re just what?” He taunts you, guiding one of your hands from your arse to your face. He takes your cheeks and cups them, forcing your lips into a pathetic pout. “Desperate for me? For my touch?”
You try to shake your head as a way of saying no because your mouth can only do so much, but Hyunjin keeps you in place.
“No?” He asks you, frustration lingering on his tone. “Wasn’t this what you wanted all night long?”
4 months ago, things seemingly followed the natural course of them.
After much fucking and bickering, even after having broken up, you two parted ways —Hyunjin immersed himself in his profession, and you did the same. The late night calls weren't taken as frequently, and the drunken messages stopped receiving any sort of response.
It seemed as if you were already over each other —not only over the relationship, but those strange encounters you kept on having too. 
That was, of course, way long before tonight's affair. 
“No,” you whine yet again, trying to convince yourself that all that is happening wasn’t provoked and invited by you. “I was just- with my date”. 
“And where is that date of yours right now, pretty?” His voice is trembling, but Hyunjin still manages to keep his composure. 
He has always been the one to have the last word in everything, that much you know. And how could he not, when his voice stands strong even at moments like this, when his mind is completely losing control.
“You don’t even know, right?” 
He teases you, mouth slightly agape while a series of grunts and gasps escape his lips.
Sadly, he is getting closer.
“You don’t even know where he is because you stopped caring about him the minute you saw me, right?” The cockiness in his voice is a painful reminder that you're not as strong-willed as you think you are. Not only that, but it also reminds you of how true Hyunjin is. “You’re so easy to read, so f-fucking easy”. 
You clench around him when you hear how he struggles to keep on talking. The way he runs out of breath, and each groan that follows every word is getting you going way more than it should. 
“That gaze of yours-” Hyunjin continues, nibbling at his plump bottom lip while his cat-like eyes find yours in the middle of the neon lights, “always tells me exactly what you want”. 
The look. The sight that will be forever imprinted in Hyunjin’s mind for good.
That look you used to give him when you were on your knees, with your hands wrapped around his length and the tip of his cock hitting the deepest part in your throat. 
That look you always gave him when the tip of his dick slid for the first time that night inside of you, along with that sigh of relief that escaped your lips every time it happened.
The look. 
When you saw him standing right across from you at the club, Hyunjin could decipher your gaze easily. 
After all, he is the one who knows you the most. 
“And I know this is what you want, right?” He asks you, increasing the speed of his thrusts. They get rougher as they get sloppier, completely losing the steady and sensual rhythm he set at first. 
You press your lips in a thin line, shutting your eyes close right after they threaten to start spilling tears from them. 
Hyunjin is always too much to take, and you're not sure if you love it or hate it. 
“I know you miss me just as much as I do,” Hyunjin gasps, salty drops of sweat traveling from his temples to your chest and tummy. “You can try to get over me, but I know you won't,” each word is accompanied by a harsh thrusts of his hips. 
It feels like a threat, but it's a fact.
“You don’t want to get over me, you just want to pretend,” he's fully aware of how loud he is being. How whiny his words are coming off, how desperate he sounds overall. But he can’t help himself, not when he is so close to tasting that sweet relief he has been craving for months now. “You can fuck- every man you want-, but it is always going to be me who you think about when you're coming around their cocks”. 
With that, he lets out a raspier, more primal grunt. One that’s explosive enough to stop him right on his tracks, breathing heavily while his head hangs low. 
You can feel his dick twitching inside of you, just right after you came around him for the third time tonight. 
Unexpected, without a warning. 
Your orgasm washed over you just as quickly as Hyunjin's did. With a dry throat and strangled breath you look at each other, feeling his hot arousal pumping inside you, painting your walls white. 
One would think that there's nothing left to say. Not when you're in this state of frenzy, completely unaware of your surroundings. 
But, as usual, Hyunjin has to have the last word.
“That is, if they can get you to come at all”. 
535 notes · View notes
benkeibear · 7 months
Text
⋆꙳✧༄ Over the edge
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❖ Character: Sanji
❖ Reader: female | AFAB
❖ Wordcount: 1.2k
❖ Summary: You had your fun teasing and edging your cook all day long after catching him touching himself to the thought of you.
❖ WARNINGS: dom!reader, masturbation, edging, oral (reader giving and receiving), ruined orgasms, cumming untouched, handjob, overstimulation,
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Being with Sanji felt like a dream come true, ever thoughtful it felt like he knew you better than you know yourself. Gentle hands caressing your skin with utmost care after a long day just to help you get rid of the tension residing deep within until you fell asleep in his arms. Being with Sanji felt like a safe haven, strong arms keeping you tucked away from the world and always making sure you're protected - he would gladly give his life for yours if your life should be at stake. You're his goddess, his one true love and he made sure that not a single day goes by where he doesn't express this to you and the world. Oh how obsessed he was with you, your name tumbling off his lips like a lewd prayer, whimpers to be heard from the quarters and you knew exactly what he was up to when you peaked your head inside. The blonde laid sprawled out on his bed, one leg hanging halfway off the mattress when his pants were shoved down just enough to reveal his aching cock, his shirt pulled up enough to save it from his upcoming release. Just as he started to thrust back into his own hand so desperately you called out for him “Sanji dear? Nami and I are quite hungry… would you mind if we access the fridge?” You asked through the door, acting like you didn't just watch him jerk off. With a small whine your beloved tucked his aching hard cock away and came out of his room to give you an innocent smile “I'll make a snack for you two. Don't worry your pretty head about it” he mused and kissed your forehead gently, not letting you know just how desperate he was for you and as much as he'd love to take you to bed with him he felt bad for always wanting you - especially since you woke him up with a mind numbing blowjob this morning… one that you didn't finish. Sanji didn't think you'd be cruel to him like that, thinking nothing bad when you pouted at your oh so aching jaw which he cupped caring only to press the most loving kisses to it “thank you my darling” he hummed a little out of breath. This second ruined orgasm left him wired, fearing he'd go up the walls if he can't stroke himself to completion soon only for you to hug him from behind.
A poised grip on his ever aching cock snapped him out of his thoughts, the knife dropping from his hand as his head leaned back, a shaky breath escaping him. “Mellorine… please” he whispered, knowing that you can feel how hard he is. “Here? In the kitchen? you're so naughty” you giggled into his strong back, your hand slipping into his pants but not stroking him yet. “Go on, you were making food” you mused, forcing him to continue the task on hand while your hands gently fondled his balls that were threatening to burst if he wouldn't find release soon. A sharp hiss escaped his lips when you finally started stroking just the tip of his cock, smearing the pre cum over it but when you felt him twitch you removed your hand from his pants, making him squirm as the softest whimpers escaped him - you ruined yet another orgasm. Smirking you took your food from him and shot him a wink “meet me in your room in an hour… and don't touch yourself again” you hummed amused as you left the kitchen, letting him know that you caught him red handed but the way you promised him release pushed all thoughts of embarrassment aside, his erection starting to become painful.
On the minute Sanji showed up in his quarters, already hard again from the anticipation but his eyes went wide when he found you touching yourself on his bed. In a matter of seconds your hand was replaced with his, skilled fingers bringing pleasure to you in ways you could never achieve and his soft lips wrapped around your sensitive clit, tongue flicking over the tiny nub in desperate ways. The way he ate you out shouldn't have surprised you like this, especially since he always ended his long days with a mouth full of your sweet pussy, needing to taste your arousal as if you're the best dessert anyone has ever tasted. It was the speed he came at you, the desperation clear behind every swipe of his tongue, working for his reward - your orgasm. Maybe if he gives you enough pleasure you will finally let him have his high, mind going numb when your thighs squeezed around his head in sync with your walls fluttering around his slender fingers. Sanji’s soft moans against your hot cunt let your clit vibrate in the most delicious ways, finally tipping you over the edge, your juices coating his tongue and eliciting a satisfied hum from the cook as he lapped your arousal up before looking at you with teary eyes.
A small giggle erupted from you and you gently spread your legs further to pat the spot in front of you and your loving boyfriend immediately sat down, his back resting against your chest after he shed his clothes. Your hand wrapped around his leaking tip right away to smear his pre cum over him, using it as lube as you started stroking him at a slow pace, focusing mainly on the tip where you made sure to massage his sensitive frenulum, your other hand wrapping around his torso to tease his pebbled nipples. His pebbled pink nubs were begging for your touch, his back arching when you pinched one of them ever so slightly before rolling it between your thumb and index finger, keeping up the lazy strokes on his cock. The moment you felt him twitch you pulled away once more, both your hands now playing with his nipples “don't cum… not yet” you whispered into his ear when he was reduced to a panting mess, hips bucking up in the air when you kept playing with his chest and before either of you could react, shots of his hot cum pained his toned abs, leaving him whining and squirming at this untouched orgasm. Sanji’s head was resting on your shoulder, eyes shut tightly as he just let it happen, only to moan right into your ear when you reached for his sensitive length “I told you not to cum… didn't I?” You asked slightly disappointed and your grip on him tightened, jerking him off at a fast pace as he tried to bend and escape your grip “don't tell me you can't handle this… you wanted to cum so badly now I'll make sure you get what you want” you mused and he nodded eagerly, his hands looking for support on your thighs with a tight grip. “H-hah Mellorine… please” he begged, his head screaming for more, yearning for your touch on him despite how sensitive he was. The way he could become so pathetic under your touch enchanted you every time… and all you had to do was to edge him a little bit.
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Networks: @enchantedforest-network
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iloveyouinred · 10 months
Note
ok hello :D Annon from earlier but heres a something that has been absolutely rotting my brain out, never done a req b4 so sry if this is bad Like imagine a yandere genshin man (of ur choice) fucking the reader and practically sobbing (bc they so happy to be able to do it with s/o/reader) and stopping a bunch of times mid sex just to ask ther if they love him and edging the reader and themself just bc they want to hear them say it and like the reader is getting hella annoyed but the guy isnt even edging them completely on purpose or anything. (And like they aint going easy either its rough but they are just smooth talking). Praise and stuff idk i could see this with like Venti, Thoma, Kaveh and maybe Cyno Idk what to say about what i just wrote -///-
thank you for listening to my brain rot
𓇬♡ | Note: Hi anon, your headcanon is very 🔥🔥🔥 lovely! I can imagine how much they love the reader to be asking that like times. It will be either obsession or the sweet insecure boy type. *Sigh* We love desperate boys. Anyway i don't know if i potray your idea correctly(it come out softer than i imagine), but here it is. Please enjoy! :D
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Yandere!Genshin Male x Reader
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𓇬♡ | Warning: NSFW, implying obsessive behavior, drugging, noncon, etc.
𓇬♡ | Word Count: 746 word
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You desperately need to cum. He has been edging you with his fingers for some time now. When he stops moving once again, saying 'I love you' while locking his eyes with yours, waiting for you to say the same. Tears rolled down your cheek by how needy your body has become. Your hip tries to move on its own to chase the pleasure. Yet his grip on your hip only tightens. It will surely leave some mark tomorrow. He pulls his fingers out, earning a desperate cry from you. His hand goes to the side of your face, wiping your tears stained cheek. "Say it back, love. Say it for me, okay?" He whispers in a sweet tone that will deceive even the devil. As if he is your lover and not a stranger that suddenly got you splayed across the nearest flat surface he can find. You know him, he has quite a reputation in your country. But you guys never really talk or have any contact with one another. Of course you were just an ordinary person. So it was strange when he approached you and started a small conversation with you. One topic leading to another, he was truly a great chat buddy. It reaches the point where he lures you into a secluded place. You were promised a place with a great view. He didn't lie, there was even a small cottage to rest there. He just didn't mention the part where he fuck you, shamelessly demanding the same word to fell off your lips. Oh, but he did slip something in your drink first, in case you disagree with his ideals. Which probably played a major role in the heat that burned you like a bitch.
Love? If those words can get him to move his fucking finger- or even better, put his cock in you to help you get off this heat-, you will say it a hundred times.
"I love you- so please-" You sound desperate enough for him to pity you. Kissing your lips softly as he pulls out his painfully hard length before humping it on your folds. You let out a muffled moan at his tease. Tears welling up your eyes at the sensation. He slowly drags it along your walls while entering you. Leaving you choked at how his veiny cock rubbing your inside.
"Please.." You squirm as you feel his length twitch inside you, hearing your voice tremble under him. He partially sobs at how good you feel around his length. It's like his hips moving on its own, meeting the back of your thigh with a laud slap each time he moves. He watched your eyes roll back as his tears dripped on your face. Overwhelm by how his cock continuously rammed into you, hitting spots you never knew were there.
He breathed out a moan, "Pretty-"
"-My pretty girl." He is singing praises, while kissing your whole face. Slowly move down to suck your neck.
"Mm- love you-" You let out a breathless gasp as he shove his cock into you deeper and faster. Your body arch back, toes curling at the sudden hit of pleasure. Finally reaching your well deserved release. He gives you a sloppy kiss, mumbling 'I love you more.' on your lips as he spilled his cum inside you. He keeps his twitching cock inside your hole for a moment before pulling out, watching as his liquid drips out of you. You are still gasping from the mind numbing orgasm, to high to realise his content smile as he watch your fuck out expression. Holding you in his hand as he bites down your shoulder blade, sucking and licking along the line. You squirm from the ticklish sensation but his hold on your waist was quite firm. His fingers sliding between your folds to rub your clit. Just a little more. He wants to hear your pretty voice just a little more, moaning his name and inclining some incoherent words. He lets you close your thigh around his hand, trembling as you easily reach your next orgasm. He silenced your moan with a kiss. Hoping to crave how your lips taste in his memory.
The next 'I love you.' come in the form of the softest whisper you ever heard. It almost misses your hearing if he is not right by your side. Holding you in his embrace. You slowly drowse off against him, surrounded by his warmth.
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Ft. Venti, Thoma, Kazuha, Kaveh, Cyno
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yanderes-galore · 17 days
Note
I allow myself to send a request now, because with the time difference, it will be 11pm in my country (and I do not know if I will still wake up)
Fandom : Jujutsu Kaisen
Personnage : Satoru Gojo
Accord : romantique
Type : alphabet
Thanks to advance ~😘
Sure! Here you go :) Hope you enjoy my take on Gojo!
Yandere Alphabet - Satoru Gojo
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Smothering behavior, Overprotective behavior, Stalking, Violence, Murder, Kidnapping, General Yandere themes, Controlling behavior, Paranoia, Isolation, Slight jealousy, Dubious relationship.
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Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
Gojo is most likely overly affectionate. His behavior may hide darker secrets but he's genuinely affectionate. He's physically affectionate, often clinging to his beloved and being overly friendly.
Gojo can seem overbearing and intense with his obsession. Part of him is scared to lose you... Yet he'd never show that part to you. He has to be strong for you.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
The scariest part of Gojo is his strength. If he even had rivals he really wanted to get rid of, he could easily make them red mist. Safe to say Gojo is capable of getting messy for his darling.
He just knows when to pick his battles... usually.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
Gojo would not mock you. He would treat you the best he can if he ever did abduct you. After all, if he abducted you he most likely did it for, in his words, "good reason".
He meets your every need, promising to give you everything you want as long as you don't leave.
However, Gojo most likely won't need to abduct. He primarily stalks you and why should he be jealous? He has the strength and power to make you his. No one else stands a chance.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
He tries not to, you have more freedom than most yanderes.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
Gojo keeps most of his baggage hidden, yet he seems open with you. He never likes to show vulnerability but I imagine the mask slips a bit at times. So when he is truthfully open with you, it's rare.
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
Amused. You're never going to be as strong as him... but he finds your attempts to fight the decisions he made for you adorable.
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
Not really a game yet he might find your escape attempts amusing.
Most because he knows you won't get far.
The only way you can make escape attempts is if he allows you.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
Realizing there is no getting rid of him. As I said before, the scariest part about Gojo is his strength. He can easily follow you, take you away, and remove any threat around you.
That's the scariest part about him as a yandere. The fact he's strong and persistent.
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
Hard to say but he definitely wants you protected. Maybe he wants to be more than your boyfriend, maybe he's happy at that stage. For the most part... Gojo just likes you near him.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
I'd say he does but he's playful. If he didn't like you talking to someone then he'd insert himself into the conversation. If someone was getting a bit too flirty, he'll just pull you away.
He likes to play it off, maybe playfully pouting when you neglect him. Being jealous doesn't bother him too much. It's when someone genuinely tries to take you that he begins to have issues.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
Obsessive, Overprotective, Manipulative, Slightly controlling, Playful, Affectionate, Clingy, Paranoid.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
Honestly, you could meet him in many ways but he'd always try to be playful and friendly. He tries not to get too close at first. He's scared to lose you like the people he has lost before.
The world is dangerous and since you're not as strong as him, he could lose you easily. He originally tries to stay professional, best he doesn't get too close. However... Despite his attempts... You still manage to infect his mind.
After all... he can protect you if you just never leave his sight. This makes him stalk you, cling around you, and just never let you out of his sight. All for your safety...
Right?
Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
Eh, not really, no.
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
He wouldn't want to hurt you so I imagine isolation in a room he picked out and maybe restraints if he feels you can leave. For the most part his punishments are actually really tame compared to more. Being locked in a room yet not restrained is an introvert's dream.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
Not many as long as you're kept safe. He's actually a chill yandere compared to other JJK yanderes.
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
Very patient, actually. He may not seem like it but he tries to be patient for you.
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
Not really, no. Losing you may make him snap, actually. Which is the last thing the world needs, honestly.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
Maybe a little bit but if he genuinely thought you were in danger he would not let you go.
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
Childhood and Curiosity seem to best fit him.
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
He'd do his best to comfort you, caging you in his arms as he whispers in your ear. There's no need to be afraid.... He's doing this to protect you.
He's doing this because he loves you.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
SKIPPED
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
There really is no escape when it comes to Gojo. You just have to hope staying out of danger and not getting too close with others appeases him. Which, again, is the scariest thing about him.
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
No, he would not.
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
Not a worship yandere but would probably level a city for you. He's strong enough to do that, scarily enough.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
Well, he protects you for a long time... but he may initiate romantic feelings after a year.
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
Not intentionally if at all.
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