#divider by benkeibear

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your bestfriend, satoru, sends your cheating boyfriend a rather explicit video of the two of you as revenge.

tags. best friend!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. dōggy style. dirty talk. crēampie. reader gets called ‘pretty, angel, baby’. cheating. consensual fīlming. anon req.

“mmshiit, should’ve fucked you long time ago,” satoru hisses, his hips stuttering against the plump flesh of your ass. he’s unable to stop himself now that he’s got his pretty best friend underneath him—in a sinful position he has only had wet dreams of.

one moment you’re crying because of your cheating boyfriend and the next you’re getting your guts rearranged by your bestfriend who comforted you through it all.

your mascara stains satoru’s pillow, your drool doing the exact same. you’re acting like a total slut for his cock, mewling for him to give you more, to give it to you faster and harder. all of which is caught on tape.

“yeah? want more, baby?” satoru coos as he holds up your phone with one hand. his other one is gripping the side of your hip—keeping your ass perked up so he can continue hitting that right spot inside of your greedy cunt. the white-haired man snickers behind the camera, “c’mon—tell your boyfriend just how much y’ need your best friend’s cock.”

you know satoru’s filming himself hitting it from the back. it’s nasty, but it only serves to excite you. you know your ‘boyfriend’ will be enraged once he receives the erotic video from you. he’s never liked satoru neither, always preventing you two from meeting each other. which was a red flag by itself.

you’ll show that hypocritical bastard.

“need more, ‘toru, please—” you babble, your voice muffled by the pillow. your body jerks with each hard thrust. every move is made with precision, with the intention of pleasuring you until your insides remember the shape of his dick only, “fuckk, ‘tis too big.”

satoru grins smugly. you’re basically admitting that he’s way bigger than that excuse of a man you’re dating. his ego gets a huge boost and it shows when he drives his throbbing cock deeper into your tight cunt.

“awwh, i know, but i bet my sweet girl can take it,” your best friend encourages you through a raspy voice. the fact that he called you his ‘sweet girl’ drives you insane. your pussy squeezes around his cock in response.

satoru’s eyes nearly roll back from the way you’re gripping him. he moves his other hand around your hips until his fingertips find your clitoris. he over stimulates you until you’re crying of pleasure.

you end up clenching around his fat dick even more. it feels like you’re trying to snap his cock in half with how much you’re sucking him in. there’s not a chance of it slipping out of you.

satoru moans loudly without any shame, letting both you and your boyfriend - who’d watch the video later - know how much he enjoys pounding your cunt like it’s actually his; “y’re so fucking tight. you sure your boyfriend’s been fucking you?”

you feel embarrassed by how much you’re enjoying his dirty talk. satoru’s drilling his cock into you so well to the point that you’ve forgotten all about the intimacy you shared with your cheating boyfriend. it was nothing compared to how satoru is treating you right this moment.

the white-haired man continues, still not believing that he’s finally living out his dreams. your body is heaven to him. satoru can’t help but whimper at the feeling your pussy sucking him in so desperately, “feels like your pussy hasn’t had any dick in a good while.”

the way you’re basically screaming into the pillow is enough evidence to confirm that your boyfriend has never fucked you properly at all. that delicious arch of your back, that ass of yours bouncing back on his pelvis in circles. . . satoru just knows it.

you hiccup and try to speak. you know your boyfriend is going to see the video and that only drives you to be more vocal than you already are. you’re going to get revenge and you’re going to make it as painful as possible.

“y-yeah,” you agree with satoru’s words. your words are basically slurred—too cockdrunk to properly talk. you lift your head up for a second to breathe and continue your whiny babbling between moans, “he’s n-never fucked me as well as you—ngh!”

your voice is perfect. everything about you is. satoru isn’t sure if he’ll even last long like this. he wants to claim you as his girl already. he wants to thrust his cum as deep as he can inside of you so you’ll only think of him.

“poor, poor baby,” satoru pouts and rubs your ass gently as he watches it bounce back at him with every thrust. the view is hypnotising. he cannot grasp the fact that your boyfriend fumbled such an amazing girl like you, “it’s okay. i’ll make it up to ya, mhm? i’ll treat you like a real man would.”

you nod and whimper in agreement, which gives satoru the green light. you’re going to be his at the end of this session. he’s going to claim you as his—finally—after all those years.

you feel yourself start to tremble. you feel tingly all over and your moans are getting louder. the curve in satoru’s dick is making your mind go blank. it makes his tip hit the deepest spots inside you, the right spots. you’re desperately searching for that sweet release.

“aht, aht, angel,” satoru clicks his tongue whilst deepening the arch of your back. his fingers trace the shape of your spine, feeling you shiver from the touch as he pounds you silly. “hold it in, yeah? need you to cum for me when i do. wanna fill this cunt to the brim.”

you try to hold on the best you can. after a couple more thrusts, satoru’s breath turns shaky and his noises turn into whimpers—a sign that he’s on the edge, “fuck fuck fuck fuck! baby- ‘m gnna cum!”

you gasp and your body spasms and squirms as you reach your climax at the exact same time. you feel your cunt being flood with spurts of semen. it’s so much—as if satoru’s been storing all of it just for you.

“there there. such a good girl,” satoru sighs and pulls out of you after making sure that you’ve settled down. he takes his dick out as slowly as possible, pointing the camera right at the lewd sight. his entire length is coated with a mixture of your slick and his white cum.

you shiver at the feeling of being left empty. satoru soothes you by pushing his cum back into your pussy with two long fingers. he films the entire process, focusing on your stuffed hole for a few seconds before putting the phone up.

satoru points the back camera at the both of you, getting the entire view of the messy bed. he grins and puts a peace sign up—ending the video with a mocking yet cold smile that’s directed to the man who’s going to be watching this video soon, “should’ve treated her better.”

oh, your boyfriend is going to be fuming. deserved..

#sttoru writes. #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x y/n #divider by benkeibear

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍

╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : softdom!rafayel, hints of switch!rafayel, reader is hesitant with intimacy, descriptions of self-esteem issues and general insecurities, mentions/implications of toxic relationships, implications of dubcon (not with rafayel), praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, heavy petting, first time sex (with each other) (no virginity loss), masturbation (f), oral (m. receiving), vaginal sex, cowgirl and missionary positions, unprotected sex, creampie, soft sex, use of pet names "cutie" "princess" "baby", references to card "fiery undercurrents", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))

wc : 7.9k (help me)

youtiful masterlist

a late birthday os for our favorite deep sea painter! ✨

You jumped at your phone, nearly gasping at the caller ID that flashed on your screen.

"Rafayel!"

Your grip on your phone was tight, held against your ear with an immediate burst of excitement.

It had been days.

You knew how it was, of course—an artist's inspiration was often sporadic and fleeting, and you'd even lost count of the number of times Rafayel had told you that. How essential it was to grab the spark of creativity before it you lose it; how paramount it was to focus on your flow before it disappeared... It was ingrained in the forefront of your mind, by now.

And even more than that, if Rafayel had always been one to speak of the elusiveness of inspiration, then Thomas had always been one to insist you leave him and his stroke of genius alone whenever he called for it.

You didn't understand much about the world of artists, so it was natural for you to take their words to heart, but it hadn't been easy.

Rafayel, being Rafayel, would always send you texts and updates, never failingly missing a single day... But it had been days since you'd last heard his voice at all—much less seen him. Now, marking a week sinve you'd been to his studio at all, you were pacing back and forth in your apartment, wondering how long you had to wait, and if maybe you should take a chance and visit him yourself—

But you didn't want to be selfish.

In fact, you quite despised being needy at all—with a quiet laugh, you thought, that was usually the role that Rafayel would play in your relationship. You wouldn't think to take it from him.

Yet, now, your phone rang, and the ever-familiar sound of his voice brought on a wave of butterflies in your stomach that had your mood lifting in seconds.

"Heeyyy there, cutie!"

In the background, you could make out the faint sounds of metal against concrete in the background, and your ears perked.

"Is... that your ladder? Have you finished your painting?"

"Yeah! It really took a while, this one... But Thomas'll be happy to know that it's finally finished! ...That is, if I could get ahold of him..."

You carefully sat on the edge of your bed, swinging your legs in sheer happiness at his little ramblings.

"...And, actually, I kind of need your help."

You blinked.

"Hm? Help? With what?"

"Well, you know how I told you it's been kind of a while since I last cleaned this place...?"

"...Yes..."

"Are you free now?"

"Rafayel, you can't mean...?"

"Yeah! Can you come over and help me clean?"

You couldn't believe his first thought with this call was to ask you for your cleaning services. You strained to hear the familiar tease in his voice, even waited for a moment for some kind of "Just kidding!" or whatever else that could tell you he wasn't being serious—

You felt your eyes narrow in disapproval when you found nothing.

"Rafayel, I'm not your maid, you know."

Not even an "I missed you", not even a " Want to hang out later?".

"Yeaaahh.... But you're my bodyguard, right?" The hopeful tone in his voice now would have made you laugh.... In other circumstances.

"What does that have to do with anything?!" There was a laugh, then, on the other side of the line, and you huffed. "Rafayel, don't joke with me—"

"Look! I told you, right? Thomas won't answer me, and, seriously! The studio's a mess. I really need some help... Please?"

He was laughing completely now, and the sound brought over that same, very familiar ripple of butterflies, despite all the odds.

You caved.

"This is labor abuse, Rafa. Of your own girlfriend, might I add!" You hmphed, but stood up from your bed, haphazardly gathering your things into a purse and walking out of your flat. "Fine. I'm on my way there."

"Oh, you really are the best girlfriend I could ever have wished for! Thanks, princess! See ya!"

Not even a "stay safe"!

You wondered if this was what Rafayel felt whenever you were late to receive his calls or to reply to hia texts, and you sighed.

Is he just trying to get back at me...?

Regardless, he made up for his actions by immediately twirling you over with a kiss the minute you knocked on his door, and you smiled.

"Nice to see you again, princess," he grinned.

You thought you could never have wanted to see his smile as much as you did now—

But you couldn't bring yourself to admit that to him.

"Would've been better if you said that when you called me, huh?" You rolled your eyes playfully, shoving him aside and scanning the space in front of you.

He hadn't been lying.

Paint had been scattered around, well past the patches of safety paper he usually had lying all over his studio. While you were used to seeing the place mostly messy, anyway, this seemed a lot less like the organized mess you were used to. What's more, the painting wasn't even in this room anymore, and god knows where he'd put it now to dry.

You turned towards him with the raise of an eyebrow.

"Geez, Rafayel... This place looks like it's been through a hell hole. What were you doing?"

"Painting."

He shrugged, ever nonchalant and casual, only as if stating the obvious—that clearly being so engrossed in your painting would result in such a mess, and that clearly—he handed over a bundle of cleaning supplies—this was a very normal way of greeting your significant other.

You sighed.

You supposed, nothing was ever truly normal with him, anyway.

By the time you had finished, the sun that peeked through his windows bathed his studio into a golden glow. You settled onto the couch beside him, silent as he rubbed soothing circles into your shoulder, your head resting contently on his shoulder.

"You're rich, Rafayel," you mumbled, a little tiredly. "Why can't you just hire a maid if you don't want to clean things yourself?"

"And where do you think I'd find one I could trust enough to let near my paintings?"

The scoff in his voice made your lips quirk into a smile, and you tilted your head up to look at him.

...Ah.

Your breath caught in your throat when your eyes met, the gentle mix of red and purple hues in his eyes once again having you transfixed. His hair was slightly unruly from the work you'd both done, but the sunset rays streaming in from the window had little specks of sunlight painting his tresses in such a way that had you utterly mesmerized.

He chuckled slightly.

"Cat got your tongue, princess?"

You could barely bring yourself to mumble a response when he leaned in, shifting your positions just enough to have you lying on your back against the couch. Half of his weight rest over you, and you could feel it; his heartbeat against yours. You could almost amazed feel at the comfort in your synchronicity.

He sighed, brushing your hair out of your face. "...Why haven't you been to the studio?" he mumbled.

His words pulled you out of your reverie, and immediately, you felt your heart sink.

"...I thought... I thought you'd be busy..." Your voice came out meek, already searching his eyes anxiously. "Thomas told me not to disturb you, a-and I thought, maybe, you didn't want to be interrupted? I know how hard it's been for you to finish that painting..."

You swallowed thickly.

"Yeah, that might be true..." Rafayel nuzzled your nose affectionately, succeeding in soothing your nerves down to a certain degree. "But what if I wanted to see you, too?"

"...You... You usually just ask..."

Your words were met with silence, and you squirmed under the intensity of his gaze.

"Rafayel—"

"But you can't expect me to be the one asking for you all the time, right?"

Something at the back of your mind told you he didn't mean it that way, but his words stung nonetheless. The disapproval in his pout made your stomach churn. The atmosphere had, to you, become a little weightier, and your chest felt heavy with guilt.

You promised you wouldn't make him wait... But didn't you, in the end? Some useless game of seeing who'd cave first?

Your gaze shifted away from him, and you played with the hem of your shirt.

"Sorry, Rafa, I didn't mean to upset you... I-I don't know much about art, and I didn't want to bother you, and—god, actually, maybe it was stupid of me to just rely on Thomas' words instead of asking you, I'm such a terrible girlfriend—"

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you spoke, but before you could proceed any further, you felt the soft sensation of lips upon yours.

You blinked your tears away rapidly, refocusing to meet his, parting your lips slightly in shock when he pulled away.

"Don't say that, princess." He shook his head, and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "You're not a terrible girlfriend. You're perfect, actually, and... I'm partly to blame. It was wrong of me to test you like that... You're right. I should have just asked."

You drew in a breath.

Perhaps, it was because your roles had been reversed today; perhaps, it was because you'd been so anxious to see him again that even the slightest signs of any conflict had you feeling like walking on eggshells. But it was rare for you to see him take the situation at hand so maturely, and it did well for the tenseness in your shoulders to melt away.

He moved his hand back into your hair, soft, gentle strokes, if only to soothe you further away from your worries.

"...Well, actually, maybe we both are a little stupid. I... kind if made the studio messy on my own."

Your ears perked up with that, and you looked at him curiously.

Rafayel laughed.

"It wasn't that bad when I'd finished! And I wasn't lying, I had been neglecting the studio, I just..."

When his voice trailed off, you found the courage to speak again.

"Did you.... Make an excuse to bring me here?"

He smiled, bringing his lips over to the top of your head, another one on your temple, and then another one over the corner of your eye.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I missed you a lot. I guess I just got creative... A little too much, anyway."

His lips were on yours again the next second, soft pecks that made your heart soar with glee. You wrapped your arms slowly around his neck, barely registering the way he'd pulled himself over you, feeling safe under the weight of his body—you liked this. And you missed it, being close with him, having a few moments to yourselves just to revel in each other's warmth.

With half-lidded eyes, he pulled back for air, panting softly over your skin.

"...You really could have just asked me," you whispered, gazing into his eyes and allowing yourself to get lost in them once more.

He let out a soft laugh. "Hm, yeah. Buuuut, maybe I thought this would be more interesting... And maybe, then, you could stay the night, too..."

His eyes flickered closed as he ran his hands through your hair once more, bringing a lock up to his face and letting out a sigh.

"You used that shampoo again."

You faltered slightly at his words, but he pressed you against the couch, capturing your lips into a deeper kiss.

...That shampoo.

You knew exactly what he was referring to.

The last time he'd noticed this scent on you, the way he'd pressed his lips against yours had been anything but innocent—it was one of the first times the both of you had made out together, the hairdryer and towel that had started the whole ordeal then long-forgotten beside you. The mere thought of that night brought an undeniable flush to your face, an all-too-familiar tingling sensation breaking throughout your body.

And you knew what he was insinuating. Even as he continued to kiss you, and even as you felt yourself easily melting into him the way that you would.

His hand began to roam your body, slowly stroking down your sides, making their way to your thigh and inching closer, closer, to the heat of your clothed core—

Your breath hitched.

You couldn't control it.

It was like instinct, whatever this conflict of mind and body really was—

You immediately reached out to grab his wrist, and his reaction was immediate. In an instant, his lips were off of yours, and he froze in place, wide eyes searching yours.

"Shit," he whispered. "Princess, I'm sorry— Did I— Did I go something wrong—"

Though breathless and panting, your lips quivered, and your grip on his wrist tightened.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Slowly, you felt him peel himself off of you, sitting up carefully... And you took in a deep breath.

"R-Rafayel, I..."

The waver in your voice and the alarm that had found its way into your eyes weren't missed by him, and you turned your head. "I'm sorry," you swallowed thickly. "I... I don't think i can do this right now..."

You felt feeble and small as you moved to draw your knees up to your chest, almost as if with the intention of hiding yourself away. "I... M-maybe, just... Not tonight...?"

When you sneaked a glance back up at him, you could see it. That glimmer of hurt in his eyes, perhaps just barely there, but more noticeable to you than anything else. You were also made painfully aware of the sun that had set, the studio now darker into the night—a cold draft blew in through the windows and made you shiver, and now, you felt incredibly small.

Rafayel, however, gave you another soft smile, gently moving to sit with your legs over his lap, resorting to holding your hand in his gently.

"Okay," he said.

And it was so simple the way he accepted your rejection, so devoid of judgement, that it made you feel...

Guilty.

Even guiltier than you already were to begin with.

"...I'm sorry, Rafa, I—"

He shook his head, giving your hand another squeeze.

"No, that's... Well, also on me. I should have asked you about this first, too..." The regret in his voice made you want to hit something. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything today. I'll wait until you're ready, princess."

...He'll wait?

Quietly, you moved to crawl back towards him, snuggling into his chest.

This wasn't the first time he had tried to go further with you. That night, after drying your hair, had been one of such times, and it wasn't as if you didn't want to take the next step in your relationship.

In fact, you wanted it just as much as he did.

You've fantasized about it for nights on end, laying on your bed, fingers playing with your clit and imagining how well his hands would have worked you, how well his cock would have stretched you out and filled you up far better than your fingers ever could. You lost count, how many times you'd come undone, alone on your bed, having his name spill from your lips as you did.

You wanted so badly for him to ravage you.

But thinking of it was incredibly different from having the situation at hand right in front of you.

You were nervous.

There were so, so many things that could go wrong from just exposing yourself to him as you would have if you did go that far—just as so, so many things had already gone wrong the last time you had, with other people.

You buried your face into his chest, pressing against him, drowning yourself in his warmth.

"...Are you mad?" You whispered.

"Me? Why would I be, when you're cuddling me like this so tightly?" The playfulness in his voice chased enough of your worries for you to let out a little laugh. "Just so you know... I'm perfectly fine with this."

You shifted, tilting your head to look up at him.

Rafayel gently poked at your nose.

"I can't be mad at you, princess, just because you said no to me. There are other ways for us to be affectionate, and I don't need to have sex with you, you know?"

"...But you want to?" Your voice remained meek, still very obviously wanting to hide yourself back into his shirt. And you would have, if he hadn't pried you away, hands firmly over your arms, leaning down to study your gaze.

"R-Rafa—"

"I want to, princess, but only if you want to. And I need to make that super, suuper clear to you, because I won't be forcing you into anything you don't want. 'Kay?"

His words sent a flurry of comfort into your stomach.

"...But... But what if I make you wait too long? You dislike waiting... A-and it's normal, anyway, right? For couples to have sex? If we don't, then..." As you spoke, you noticed a frown frown gradually form over his face, and you faltered.

"You... You expect me to leave because of this?"

You turned your gaze away in silence.

"Princess... You... May I ask where that's coming from? Do... Do you feel unloved with me? Am I doing something wrong?"

It was like a trigger—the way his voice dropped into a soft whisper, his hands falling back down to take yours in his, lacing your fingers together.

He was so gentle with you.

You felt the unwelcome sting of tears in your eyes, and you shook your head—"N-no," you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. "You've done nothing wrong, but... But you're so—so nice to me, Rafayel..."

"...Baby? Of course I'm nice to you! Aren't you my girlfriend?!"

The nickname switch made your heart jump, and you nuzzled yourself further into his embrace.

"...I don't deserve you."

A pause.

You felt as if you could drown in the silence, even though you knew that he was just thinking of what to say.

"I'm sorry, I just made things worse—"

"...Deserve me? There's... there's nothing for you to say that—princess, that's my line, you know. You deserve everything—every little good thing out there, and so much more than me."

"But—! You—you're so good to me, and I'm—! How many times did I disappoint you? This whole week, and even just now, and—"

You felt yourself sniffling, and Rafayel once again brought you to look up at him. You chewed on your bottom lip, a flash of insecurity in your eyes that made him sigh softly.

"No, no, no... Don't cry, princess... Nothing's going to change just because of this, yeah? You know I love you. And nothing in the way that I love you is tied to... whatever ways you'll allow me to love you. I get it, you know? If you're not ready to go there yet, then that's fine. I promise. I don't make promises without reason, princess."

His gaze, now, was firm, and his words were warm. Genuine—like he always was with you. In the silence that followed, you felt yourself calm down slightly, your breath easing, the tears in your eyes blinked away in your insistence not to cry in front of him.

And more than anything, you found thr conviction in his words to be something you could... Trust.

You took in a deep breath.

"I've... I've done this a couple of times before," you spoke, slowly, quietly. "It's been a while since the last time, but— it's— it's just scary, Rafa."

Your voice trembled, and you hung your head.

"And I feel like it's so silly to be scared of it. It's always so obvious that I am, because I get too focused on trying to relax that I never really do, and then in the end I can only ever make up for it by letting them finish. So I— I don't know. Everyone says that couples always do this, like it's supposed to be a staple... Or else, what are they for, right?"

You let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, but it almost came out as if you were scolding yourself.

"Wait—hold on. You... You've never orgasmed?"

You blinked in surprise this time, looking up at him with a confused frown. "Huh? Only on my own, I guess... Never with them, no, but—"

"Oh, princess..." he began, almost like a whisper. "You've never enjoyed it, have you...? To call it a staple... Gosh. It's not something necessary to maintain a relationship, let's get that out of your pretty head first."

You watched him bring his hand over to the side of your face, a gentle caress.

"I don't know if humans really do think such fickle things, but I wouldn't leave you just because you won't go further with me. I want you to be ready before we go there. Okay? God, who have you been with?! They sound like the worst kind of humans!"

Despite yourself, you laughed at his indignation, watching him fall back against the couch with his arms crossed.

"No, seriously, baby—doesn't it sound wrong to you?! You know, I wouldn't have stopped until you came. In fact, I bet I could make you feel so much better than they ever could—" He paused, ears turning slightly red in telltale embarrassment. "...Sorry. I'll be totally patient, I really mean it. I was just, you know... saying..."

You giggled.

Rafayel was always cute when he was embarrassed, even if just a few moments ago, he'd so obviously reduced you to just a puddle through his kissses alone.

But his words, once again, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. When you looked at him, his eyes were as gentle as the waves of the ocean you'd grown to love almost as much as him, and you couldn't help but feel... safe.

You'd never really felt safe before—not with anyone else.

Any time you opened up about this, your previous partners would have scoffed in your face—would have told you there couldn't have been a basis for what you felt, and that there was nothing more irrational than all of these needless worries of yours.

It was silly.

You had always believed that.

Yet you couldn't help feeling the way that you did.

Whenever you experienced sexual intimacy with anyone else, though you had let it happen in the end, you had never... associated it with anything special. Like you'd said, it only ever felt a mandatory part of any relationship. It was like going through the motions, and then you'd find out that you'd been a terrible experience—no matter how pretty they said you were, no matter how much you'd always be told that they were looking forward to it.

You were disappointing.

That was what conclusion you'd come up with, after several times of the same result.

And you always envied your friends, too.

Whenever the topic came up, they'd speak of how magical it was—how sweet, and how loving, and how good it felt... Yet you'd felt none of that. If there was anything good you associated with sex at all, it had been you—by yourself—in your room.

You really didn't know how to reconcile all of these feelings together—

And, yet, Rafayel had been the very first one to let it slide in a way that put your feelings first.

You promised him you wouldn't make him wait...

Yet here he was, adamant on letting you do exactly that.

You looked up at him, again, listening to him guide the conversation elsewhere, talking about how his week had been, and how painful it had been to get that painting done.

"You haven't seen it yet, have you? Hmm... I'm thinking if I should show you. I guess my girlfriend can have early access to it before the exhibition, right...?" He had one hand resting on your back, the other brought up to his chin in thought. "What do you think? Do you want to see it now?"

You stared, silently, as his eyes were back on yours.

That familiar, adorable tilt of his head, the inquisitive gaze in his eyes bringing that familiar shine to it that you loved, loved, loved, so very dearly.

You watched a small smile form on his features, and he pulled you close enough to have your foreheads touch.

"Hey. What's on your mind, cutie? You're spacing out again. Everything okay?"

God. You really loved him.

Even the simplest phrase had the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around almost mercilessly, and if you hadn't known better, you thought you were very likely blushing in that moment.

"Just you," you spoke, softly, quietly, barely even registering that you'd spoken so honestly in front of him before you recognized the look of surprise on his face. "Shit—I mean—"

"Nuh-uh, no take-backs! I like it when you're honest," he cut you off with a laugh, placing a quick peck on your lips.

Though he didn't say anything more on the subject, you knew he was thinking it—even if you'd tease, endlessly, of Rafayel's own clingier habits, you knew that in the end that you could easily eat your own words.

Rafayel was so good to you.

Sometimes you'd think he was too good to you—too good for you.

But admitting it out loud was always so difficult to you; your honesty of your own overwhelming feelings for him often more than you could speak to him yourself.

He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ears.

"Maybe we should go to sleep, yeah? It's pretty late. You've worked hard!"

Slowly, you moved to straddle his lap, and then buried your face into his neck.

"...Princess..."

"...Are you really okay with this, Rafa?"

"Me? I told you, I'm perfectly fi—"

"I just—I could make you feel good, at least..."

Maybe you'd let him consume your thoughts more than you'd intended, or maybe the guilt was simply eating away at you, having never been truly placated. You didn't know which side of emotions you were acting upon, and perhaps, it seemed as if he'd sensed that.

"Baby... No. We're not going to do it tonight. I want you to set your mind straight first."

"But—"

"No buts!"

He lifted you off of his lap, another firm shake of his head. "I want to ease you into this. And that means I won't be taking any pleasure for my own just yet, because I want you to feel good."

"...Wh- What do you...?"

He smiled, before poking your forehead.

"I mean, I want you to be comfortable around me first, before you even think of trying to give me an orgasm." Rafayel gave your hand another squeeze. "I'm hoping I can at least show you that it's not supposed to be a bad experience. So we'll sleep on it first, clear our heads, take things slowly... Then we'll see how things go from there. 'Kay?"

"Rafa..."

"Baby, relax. No rush. I'm not going anywhere."

Rafayel was always so good to you.

Even through your biggest insecurities, there would be no exception.

It had been quite some time since that conversation, and, sure enough, he had been adamant on taking things slower with you. You could feel it, how he'd constantly hold himself back with you. The way he would be sure not to take it too far when he kissed you, always respectfully lifting you off of his lap whenever he felt like it would get too much if you continued...

He took things step by step, just like he said he would. From kisses, to slowly dipping his hands beneath your clothes—You had found, over the past couple of days, how warm his hands were around your breasts, cupping and kneading them like a perfect fit. It was comfortable. And it had become almost a staple to your cuddling sessions over time.

Those nights in his bed slowly, slowly became less than innocent as weeks passed by.

And then one other night, you'd finally gained the courage to let him go even further. His fingers were long, able to reach deeper inside of you than you ever could, and the stretch in your walls felt more than welcome after so long. It was just as you'd fantasized—he'd buried his fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt, slow thrusts gradually picking up the pace until you were trembling around him, his arms holding you safe as you released. Even now, when you thought back to that night, you felt tingles all over your body. It was the first time anyone had made you cum, the first time anyone had bothered to cradle you in their arms afterwards, the first time anyone had cleaned you up without you having to do it yourself—

You hadn't known that this could really feel so intimate.

So loving.

That Rafayel could ease all your worries away, so... naturally.

It had gotten to the point that you began to notice a boldness in both of your actions—you were growing more comfortable with him, like he'd intended you to, and now, you found yourself gladly on your knees, feeling the drag of his cock against the walls of your mouth.

He'd gotten you to cum from his fingers and his mouth multiple times over the past few days, and you had promised him—promised him—that you were only returning the favor because you wanted to. Because through the past weeks, Rafayel had been gentle with you, and patient—always asking for your consent, never pushing you to do anything you didn't want to, never even giving a thought to his own pleasure as long as it meant focusing on yours.

And this, you thought to yourself with a smile, was now a reward for for him just as much as it was for you.

Your eyes closed as you swirled circles over the tip of his length, taking your time with him as he often did with you. Your tongue ran up and over his cock, wetting him fully becore taking him in again, keening at the way his hips would stutter and his moans would reach your ears in a well-received melody.

"Fuck, yeah—Just like that, princess—" Rafayel's words were broken, his eyes half lidded as he watched you work him. "So good for me, baby—ngh, shit—"

You found his praises go straight to your core, eager to please him, eager to hear more. And in effect, your pace quickened, bobbing your head up and down his shaft, stroking and sucking him with a new hunger. His hands tangled in your hair, the sensation more than welcome as he guided you into a rhythm, hips bucking upwards to meet your mouth.

"So, so good— Feels so good, princess, don't stop—"

Another tug on your hair had you moaning against him, feeling him throb in your mouth at the extra stimulation.

He was close.

Determined to take in the sight, you watched, fondly, as his head fell back into the pillows, the skin of his thigh hot to the touch, your eyes drawn to the way his mouth hung open, his own eyes squeezing shut.

"Shit— M'gonna—! Gonna cum, baby, pleas—"

He arched his back, his hands fleeing from your hair to fist into the sheets beneath him. It hit in an instant, then—the sheer intensity having rendered him silent, mouthing curses, eyes still shut as streaks of cum shot out of him and onto your tongue.

You were familiar with the taste; warm in your mouth, and salty—thick. There was a certain discomfort to it, swallowing every last drop, but it couldn't compare to the thrill of it. Having Rafayel finally cum in your mouth, finally come undone for you... Your eyes locked as you released him with a wet 'pop', licking your lips and then hastily wiping your mouth with a little smile.

"Damn... That was..." He was breathless, chest heaving, barely moving to allow you to climb back up on the bed and reach for the bottle of water on his nightstand. "You're really... Really good at that, princess."

Feeling warm at another word of praise from him, you exchanged the bottle for the washcloth beside it, and crawled over to gently pat him clean.

"...Baby, I can—"

"If you won't let me do it when I finish, then I won't let you, either."

Your gaze was firm, and he laughed.

"Well played. My habits are growing on you, huh, cutie? That's good."

He pulled you up into his arms for a kiss, and you snuggled into his embrace. The heat from his skin was comforting—another thing you'd slowly gotten used to, having your activities now easily practiced without the need for any more clothes on.

"...How are you feeling? Was that okay?" He mumbled into your hair as you buried your face into his chest, lifting your leg over him as if to draw him even closer to you. You nodded quietly, and a soft sigh escaped his lips when you brushed your wetness against his still-sensitive cock. "Princess... Did sucking me off get you all wet?"

You could hear the laugh in his voice, and you whined.

"You— you made me wait to do that!" You protested, and you didn't need to look up to know he had that ever-present smirk on his face. "...I wanted to make you cum, too..."

He only replied with a chuckle, trailing his hand down your back to settle upon your waist. "I know. And thank you, by the way. Your mouth feels heavenly. Did you know that?"

You swat at his arm playfully. "Rafayel!"

"What? I'm only saying the truth! And, anyway..." You squealed when he leaned over to nip at your earlobe, completely sure of how flushed you were in that moment. "You're drenched, so which one will it be? My tongue? My fingers? My thigh?"

When you didn't reply immediately, he gently gave you squeeze. "Or do you want to sleep it off? We don't have to do anything if you—"

"N- no!"

You looked up, pouting, and found that the mirth in his gaze had melted away into one of pure adoration.

"I... I think..." You gulped, your eyes traveling downward to where you rest over him.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest.

You would have been lying if you said you hadn't been thinking about it on a constant—how he would feel inside you. And though you'd thought about it generally before, you found yourself warming up to the idea. Craving it, even, in a way you hadn't before.

You raised your head to meet his eyes again, holding your breath as you moved to straddle him, sliding your folds over his cock gently.

The moan that he let out was music to his ears, but when his hands gripped your waist tightly, you stopped.

"Fuck, wait—are you sure, princess?"

You smiled slightly at that.

Truly, Rafayel had been nothing but gentle with you; nothing but patient.

You nodded.

"I-I mean... Only if you want to? But you just came, right...? S-so, maybe not... Sorry, I don't mean to be needy, you can just—"

"Hey, hey. Deep breaths for me first, baby, yeah? Relax."

Immediately, his hands were rubbing soothingly into your sides, and you fell forward onto his chest, holding him close.

"Don't you worry about being needy with me, I don't think I'm any less needier than you, anyway," he laughed. "I want this. I really want this. But, princess... I need to know that you aren't forcing yourself into it."

You remained silent, only managing a nod.

"Look at me?"

Compliant, you raised your head once more, and Rafayel reached over to thread his fingers through your hair. He smiled.

"Verbal consent, princess. I've given you mine. Now, I need your confirmation before we do anything. Have you decided? Do you want me?"

Your heart swelled in your chest.

You didn't know how Rafayel could be so selfless with you.

None of the others you've been with would ever treat you this way, and it was... new.

It was true, what he said—it wasn't a secret to you how much he wanted you. Though he wouldn't say it, so determined not to make you feel pressured, you'd see it in the way he looked at you. The way he touched you. Even the way he spoke with you—always the more vocal one in terms of clinginess, even though you, yourself, secretly enjoyed his attention.

You'd understood from the start that he was doing his best to stay firm in his self control just for you, and it made you feel warm—Loved. Appreciated.

Even now, as you were sitting on his cock, readjusting your position only to have it poke against your back—he was patiently waiting for your answer. He was waiting for you to be sure about this.

You thought it ironic, almost.

It wasn't as if this was your first time, and yet... you'd never experienced someone be so gentle with you.

With another determined nod, you sat back up, placing your hands on your lap.

"Okay," you said, and took a deep breath. "I'm sure, Rafayel. I want you."

You swore you could feel the way his cock twitched at your words, and couldn't help the way your lips quirked into another smile.

He read your expression, and laughed. "You really drive me insane, princess."

His hands remained firm on your hips, gently lifting you off—"Do you want to stay on top? Set your pace for me?"

"...Um... Do you?"

"Baby, don't turn this back to me! Doesn't matter what I want right now, I wanna make this about you. In case you haven't noticed, I'd be more than happy to take you in any way you want me to."

You almost rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "...Okay, then... I'll try it like this. But, Rafayel, sometimes it's concerning how much you pay attention to my needs..."

"Me? Concerning? Says the one who's had some of the worst sexual experiences on the planet!" He scoffed. "Listen, princess. I say this a lot, but you understand, right? I'm not in this relationship for your body. I'm not using you for your body. I love you, because you're you, and not just so I get to fuck you some day." He paused, then, and you saw a flash of contemplation in his eyes, "...Which miiiight be today, but that's besides the point."

You laughed, this time, and perhaps in any other situation, you'd playfully hit his chest, and tell him to stop being so silly. But the lighthearted atmosphere was welcome, and you felt your shoulders slump in some sort of relief.

"I know, Rafa. I..." You bit your lip, steeling yourself, willing yourself to say it. "I... I-I love you, too."

Immediately, you watched his eyes widen, a certain shine in them that almost could have made you melt.

"...Seriously?" he whispered. "You mean it?"

You flushed at the way he sounded so much in disbelief, despite what you were about to do. But, perhaps, you understood the shock that he displayed. While he would often use the words around you—having made it clear that they were his feelings, and that you didn't have to reciprocate them immediately—you had yet to say it back.

You did love him.

Of course you did.

And you have, for a while now.

But it wasn't easy to speak these feelings out loud; wasn't easy to make yourself so affectionate and so vulnerable around him. At least, not as easy as it has been for him. It had been long established that Rafayel was the more expressive one—though he would tone things down with playful jokes and banter to match your pace of things, you knew that his feelings had been nothing but genuine for you.

And you'd always struggled to make sure that he knew you felt the same, but...

You nodded.

You could do it, this time. Give back all the love that he'd always given you.

Slowly, you reached behind you to guide his cock to your entrance, letting out a slow breath at the feeling of his tip—hot, and wet, and stiff—prodding your hole.

"I love you," you whispered, feeling confident, now, as you spoke.

His fingers dug into your skin as he gasped, finally having you slowly lower yourself down onto his cock. "Fuck," he muttered. His eyes closed—you could tell he was fighting the urge to thrust up into you. "You feel so... so..."

A loud whine rattled past your lips when he finally pressed all the way inside of you, so big, and so filling, like nothing else you've ever had before.

"Shit," he continued to curse under his breath. "So—so good, baby."

His hands, shaky, massaged your hips in reassurance, eyes opening to reveal a hazy glimmer of lust that you had yet to see on his face before. The image before you made you shiver—every ounce of self control was slowly slipping away from him, and he was trembling with the little bit of patience he still had left in his body.

"M-move," he whimpered, looking up at you with pleading eyes that made you gasp. "Please, princess—please—can you do that for me?"

Your jaw clenched, and you obliged—how could you resist?

You rocked your hips slowly, at first, getting used to the feeling of him in side you. And, you found—you were enjoying this. Whatever you'd imagined could never compare; he felt good inside you. Every sensation you felt of his cock against your center was pleasurable, every moan that fell from his lips having you swirl your hips with a need to hear more.

You bit your lip when he slowly began to rut his hips up to meet your pelvis, now finding the strength to guide your hips gently up and down his length—

"Fuck, baby, don't hide from me, please," he moaned, eyes locking with yours with an air of desperation. "Haah—Let me hear you—hear how good it feels—'s it feel good, princess?"

You found yourself obedient.

As his tip knocked up against your sensitive spot, a loud moan spilled from your lips—immediately, you rest your hands on his chest as your head hung, feeling yourself bounce to his rhythm, hips moving in sync.

"F-feels good, 'fayel— Ah—!"

"Yeah? Like that, baby? That spot, huh?"

You grinded down on his cock, eyes screwing shut at the sound of your arousal slicking around him. His words guided you through your motions, whisperes of praise and reassurance that had you soaring—and you could feel it. The tightness that had gathered in your stomach, slowly, slowly building into something more—but so far away, so unobtainable, that it had you whining.

"R-Rafayel!" You cried as you leaned forward, burying your face into his chest. Even as he planted his feet on the bed and thrust up into you, picking his pace up a little and grunting into your ear, you shook your head— "M-more, please— I— I can't—"

"Oh, fuck, princess—"

He groaned when you clenched tightly around him, and with quick movements, he had you lying on your back, caged between his arms as breathless pants fell from his lips.

"I—fuck, baby... Are you okay with this? I'll—Shit— Sorry, I m-moved—"

He'd snapped his his hips back into yours the minute you wrapped your legs around his waist, but when he looked at you, your own eyes filled with a desire that dared to rival his own, he let out a slow breath.

"...Okay?" he whispered.

You nodded. "Please."

Rafayel laced his fingers through with yours, holding them against the pillow. At your consent, he resumed his pace, fucking deep into your cunt with thrusts so precisely rubbing against your spot that you closed your eyes with another loud moan.

"Ah, Rafa—Rafayel, s-so good—"

Any thoughts of holding back your sounds were lost in the pleasure raking through your body, feeling the way his cock would brush against all the right places. So thorough, and so loving—and so, so good.

Rafayel was making you feel good.

Better than you've ever felt—better than your fingers, and better than his, and you thought—

Fuck.

You wished you'd gotten to do this sooner.

"P-princess," he whimpered, hips stuttering as he pressed his forehead against yours, drowning a myriad of moans of your name with the way he kissed you. So needy with his touches, you melted into him like you always did, easily following his thrusts and receiving everything he could give you.

"Princess—are you—are you safe?" he breathed.

You could feel the way he tensed inside you, his hips slowing slightly into a pace that had you whining as he waited for your reply.

"Can I... Can I cum inside? If—If you—"

It almost seemed like he could barely form coherent words, and you smiled slightly. Your arms wrapped around his neck; "I'm safe," you mumbled. "Go ahead, Rafa."

The moan that he let out sent a shiver down your spine, and then his lips were on your neck, kissing and sucking—you didn't even mind, anymore, whether or not he'd be leaving marks on you by the time you were done. Groans spilled from his lips between his kisses, and you felt yourself moaning along with him. The pace he'd set picked up, no longer as gentle as you'd started with, but you found that it was more than welcome.

"C-Cumming," you shut your eyes, breathing out his name in endless chants into his hair. "Cumming, Rafa, I—!"

You felt it.

The throbbing of his cock as he spilled rope after rope of cum into your cunt, just in time with your own release. Your nails dug into his scalp as you clenched sporadically around him, throwing your head back with a drawn-out moan of his name, feeling yourself drown in the sheer intensity of it.

"Rafayel—!"

"Fuck—Fuck—Take it, princess— Shit—" He hissed into your neck, pumping his cum into you, moans falling back into whimpers.

A moment passed after, and you smiled contentedly as he hugged you, pulling out of you but still so determined to keep you close to him.

"...R- Rafayel?" You whispered, soothingly stroking his hair. And only then did he look at you.

Your breath caught at his expression.

Tired, undeniably, but so... tender.

"Hey..." he mumbled, slowly moving up to give you a quick kiss. "Can you say it again?"

"H-huh? Say what...?" You felt your face grow even warmer at the mere thought of all the things you'd possibly moaned in the midst of your lust.

But he only smiled. "What you said, earlier. Say that you love me."

A giggle bubbled at your throat, and you pushed him onto the space next to you—

Naturally, he only pulled you back against him, arms wrapping around you, tucking you under his chin.

"C'monnnn, baby. Please?"

It was so hard for you to say no to him like this.

You turned around to face him, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you, Rafayel," you mumbled with a smile.

His expression relaxed.

"...And, thank you. For always making me feel so loved. I've never... I've never thought it could feel like this, a-and..."

"Did you like it?"

"More than liked it! I... I enjoyed it. Really. Thank you."

He grinned, then, gently setting you down on the bed and placing a kiss on your forehead. "Then, mission accomplished! So... Let's clean you up before we sleep, yeah? We can have another round in the morni—"

"Rafayel!"

"I'm kidding!"

⁺₊ / an: holy shit this took an eternity to write??!?!?!! nearly 8k words, what do u know... all this love for the birthday boy, this is an insane amount of special treatment for rafayel fr 🍰

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

#love and deepspace #love & deepspace #love and deepspace smut #love & deepspace smut #l&ds #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love & deepspace x reader #l&ds rafayel #rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #love & deepspace rafayel #rafayel smut #rafayel x reader #rafayel x reader smut #ʚɞ*.ﾟ. lnds #✿˖°. roxiefic #divider by benkeibear #divider by cafekitsune

[kissatoru]

★ ₊˚ JUST ONE MORE

content. sub!armin, soft dom!reader, gn!reader, handjob, edging, overstimulation, praise kink, dacryphilia, dry orgasm, aftercare, pet names (baby, love)

wc. 1.5k

you’re sitting in armin’s lap, thighs around his hips and a hand cradling his face. your fingers pet his hair absentmindedly while your lips dance along his, soft and tender yet passionate, full of stolen breaths and longing.

...but your other hand is not so gentle with how it’s been edging him for an hour, sliding up and down his wet length at a pace that has him squirming helplessly. some of his noises escape through the flickers of space between your moving lips and leave a tingling sensation in their wake. you chase that feeling with fervour, fluctuating between flicking your wrist faster and slowing down to focus on his sensitive tip. his thighs writhe and his breaths gradually fan harder and quicker against your face. his hands scramble in search of purchase, jumping from the sheets to your thighs to where your fingers still cup his cheek.

your sensual kissing has long since turned feverish, mixing with bites and harsher presses of swollen lips. armin pulls away to whisper, “close, close, close,” against your mouth, hushed but desperate.

“don’t cum until i tell you,” you remind him and he can only manage a small nod before his head is flopping back against the pillows. his jaw goes slack, making way for whimpers and moans that spur you on. his hands return to the bedding, twisting and tugging at fistfuls of fabric. he’s so close, so so close. he’s not sure if he’ll be able to hold on long enough to do as he’s been told.

as if reading his mind, you lower your other hand and rub his thigh. “you’re doing so well, just a little longer,” you assure, but each second feels like an eternity and ‘a little longer’ turns into too long and just as he’s about to cum without permission, you say, “go ahead, baby, let go. you’ve earned it.”

armin’s mouth opens up into a loud whine that blurs into weak little ‘thank you’s. spurts of white spill over his stomach, some even reaching his chest. your soaked fist moves from tip to base, slowing down with every drop of cum that follows. his chest rises and falls and his hot puffy breaths beat against your skin as he sinks down from his high.

“you– you can stop now,” armin breathes, his voice raw and quiet and trusting as he waits for you to stop, but your hand only continues to pump his cock, quickening motions that overheat his already hot skin. “ngh, wait! why are you still–”

“shh, shh.” you push aside some hair that’s fallen in his eyes as he moans brokenly. “it’s okay. doesn’t it feel nice?”

doesn’t it? he can’t decide. “i don’t– fuck, it’s so much– i, i can’t–” armin tries to plead but he’s interrupted by another wanton moan, face growing hotter by the minute from the humiliation of not being able to speak. his thighs writhe in confusion at the overwhelming sensation. it sends signals through his nerves, telling him to escape, but he can’t stop himself from thrusting into your tight grip, as if searching for more. the pain burns, but the pleasure is scorching in comparison. he feels like an exposed nerve; he wants to get away, he wants to keep going. his abdomen clenches and unclenches and his toes curl at the changing urges. it feels so good and hurts so bad; pure torture and bliss and completely inescapable. it keeps going with seemingly no direction or ending until he senses the edge of his climax; a coil that twists and tightens in his core.

of course, you notice this immediately, already familiar with his tells. “are you close, ‘min?” you murmur.

unable to trust his voice, armin lets out a pathetic hum. he swallows and tries to catch his breath, focusing on that feeling building up in him, that coil. it curls tighter, tighter, then impossibly tighter, until it finally snaps. he squirts creamy white ropes all over himself and his eyes squeeze shut as the aftershocks of his orgasm wrack through him.

but instead of passing, the stimulation intensifies, and that’s when he realises you still haven’t stopped.

armin’s mouth opens and closes, unable to form sound as his entire body begins to shake. tears well up in his eyes and a sob finally bubbles up from his throat. his hands are frenzied, clawing at your clothes and limbs as if in search of something. he babbles, voice cracking over syllables as he chokes out frantic pleas. he doesn’t even know what he’s pleading for at this point. to stop? to keep going? it’s like he has no control over his body or what he’s saying.

“i know, i know,” you assure softly, “but i want you to cum again for me, love. you can do it, i know you can.”

armin locks his arms around your neck and pulls you closer to him. “c–can’t– hurts... so good,” he whimpers into your ear as he digs his nails into your back and nuzzles his sweaty forehead into your neck. his heart is pounding. his lungs are trembling. his thighs try to clamp shut, but your weight keeps them pinned. before he knows it, he’s cumming, just like you said he could, and much quicker than the previous two times, but he can’t even register the latter because instead of relenting, instead of having mercy, instead of giving him at least a small break between the overwhelming touches and drawn-out orgasms, you just keep fucking going. armin practically wails and you’re quick to comfort him, whispering praises and bringing him out of your neck to wipe away his tears and kiss the reddened apples of his cheeks.

god, you think as you lean back to look at him, he’s so pretty when he cries, eyes shining like ocean water; peering up at you from under sandy blond eyelashes, all clumped together with tears; nose and cheeks tinted pink. on top of that, his lips are kissed and bitten red, complimenting his pale skin, which glitters with sweat. oh, how you’d love to frame a picture of him like this; not even for sexual reasons, you just adore it when armin is so vulnerable and yours. you wish it could last forever, but you’re also wary of the fact you’re about to make him cum for the fourth time and decide you’ll need to stop soon.

you bring your other hand to massage his sticky tip between your fingers while the previous continues to glide up and down his shaft, producing loud and embarrassing squelching sounds. armin keens and instinctually glances down between your bellies; his tip is a deep red, glistening with cum and so swollen that it looks like it hurts and that fact only makes it hurt more. you’re squeezing and kneading the head of his cock with your palm, fast and unfaltering, while your other hand trails down to his balls and rubs the delicate skin there. his orgasm feels as though it’s ripped from him as he cums again, splattering over your hand and his belly. you consider stopping, but after slowing down for a second, a second of rest and mercy, you go back to your previous motions and armin is back to choking on whimpers and crying into your shoulder. his brain has gone fuzzy by now; numb with the intensity of it all.

“just one more time, okay?” you pet his hair while syncing your hand with the sloppy thrusts of his hips. “just one more for me, baby. i know you can do it.”

armin nods, chasing his climax despite his exhaustion and sensitivity. the pain melts into white-hot euphoria that rises higher and higher. he drags his nails up, down and across your shoulder blades, almost scared of his oncoming orgasm. your wrist aches and the scratches on your back sting, but you persist, pumping the top half of his cock, squeezing harder on every upward twist and flicking the pad of your thumb over his weeping slit.

no more than a second later, armin is cumming, but nothing comes out of his poor cock, just a few pitiful drops of residual cum, and the sight of it has him crying. you help him ride out his fifth high while he clings to you even harder, panting and whimpering into your ear. you mutter praises to him as his tense body slowly grows limp and slips off of you. you catch him before he can fall against the bed and carefully lay him down. the warmth of your body leaving has him whining, but you peck him on the temple and promise you’ll be back soon.

when you return with a damp cloth and a glass of water, you find armin half-asleep. you smile fondly and admire the way his skin glows in the low light before making your way over. you set aside the glass and tentatively wipe his skin clean. once you finish, you caress his head, trying to get his attention. “hey, sit up for me, love,” you say, and with some delay, he does. you bring the glass to his lips and help him drink until you’re sure he’s had enough. then you pull the sheets over him and let him lay back down.

“thank you,” armin mumbles. you just smile and kiss his shoulder before sliding in beside him. he sighs into your chest and holds you as close as possible. you pet his hair and the action helps the both of you eventually fall asleep.

#divider by benkeibear #x reader #x dom reader #dom reader #dom!reader #sub character #sub armin #sub!armin #armin x reader #armin x you #armin x y/n #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x you #armin arlert x y/n #armin smut #armin arlert smut #aot smut #snk smut #sub aot #( ★ ) my stuff.

[milky-aeons]

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆

౨ৎ . . . in which a man with no reason to live finds an unlikely one through the tribulations of being a father.

warnings: emotional dysregulation, slight angst, unplanned pregnancy, alcohol consumption, poor parenting (in the beginning), conflict, suicidal ideation, depression, depictions of birth, female reader, healing, w.c 2.4k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ dancing on my own — vitamin string quartet ꒱ ˎˊ-

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who wasn't ready to be a mother. Not now, perhaps not ever — was a rule you had laid in stone for yourself as a free-spirit intent on enjoying life to its fullest. It was why the world had tuned out into white noise when Yosano Akiko held the small test in her hand and spoke those terrifying words. With a shutter of sympathy in her eyes, coming to place a hand on your shoulder to give it a firm, comforting squeeze. She knew just as well how much you didn't want this to be true. Her touch felt condemning. You felt like you were going to vomit, just like you had been for the last four mornings in a row. Because how were you going to tell him?

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who didn't blink, didn't draw breath, didn't do anything when you let the words stumble from your mouth in one panicked rush. It was a bright afternoon deep into summer and the Agency's café was quiet — private enough for the two of you to have this conversation. You and Dazai Osamu — you were not an item, had been content to have casual shared nights together when either of you wanted to blow off a little steam. But that night, you had said to him, do you remember that night? When we were both drunk and stupid, so stupid?

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who, in that moment, decided not to grace you with any words. Instead, he did something far more uncharacteristic of him; he stayed quiet. He gave one shallow nod of his head and placed a hand softly onto the table so he could stand up. To steady himself, to ground himself back down when you had turned his world completely overhead, you did not know. And Dazai, who left you there, excusing himself in order to get some fresh air. The raking bastard that he was. Not once did he turn back to look you directly in the eye. Not even when you stood up, shouted his name, screamed at him, until tears spilled over your cheeks and your throat burned with the pain.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who saw life through a lens of grey in the couple of days following. Sometimes, you would feel so heavy that you did not wish to rise out of bed. The word swam around in your head like the song of a haunting ghoul — a mom, a mom, I am going to be a mom. Yosano would drop by your Agency apartment after work to see how you were doing, feeling your forehead, bringing you remedies to help with the nausea that roiled in your stomach. Every time, you would resist the temptation to ask where he was. And yet every time, Yosano would still tell you;

"He didn't come to work today, either."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who slowly came to grips with the fact that this was how it was going to be. The initial shock of it all was as relentless as it was condemning, but it was not infinite. The sun rose the next day, and the next, the world kept moving and you decided that you would have to, as well. That there was a little life growing inside your warm belly that needed a mother, no matter how unprepared you were for that fact. And, if you could do something about it, needed their father. You were not letting him just walk away from you, from the both of you, that easily.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who was exactly where you thought he would be when you set out that evening to find him. Of course, if he wanted to, Dazai Osamu had both the cleverness and the connections to absolutely disappear from the streets of Yokohama without a trace. If he wanted to, he could have abandoned you and this baby completely. But he didn't. Instead, he was here, laying sprawled long and lazy on his messy, unmade futon in his messy, unclean house, as if waiting to be found. When he heard you pass over the threshold of the door he didn't lock, he gave you a long, languid smile.

"My bewitching Beeella~! At looong last, she has come to tempt me!" He slurred his speech, bringing your attention to the heavy scent in the air and the dozen or so bottles strewn about haphazardly. His hair was matted and unwashed. He looked just like you, curled in your bed, refusing to move for days. But unlike you, he was completely and utterly intoxicated. "You look awful." You said in a low voice. Hurt at how he abandoned you in the coffee shop was still a fresh, gaping wound. As if his head was too heavy, Dazai let it flop back down onto the cushions. He waved his hands about. "And you... look just as beautiful... as always. But—It is a trap...! A ruuuuse! A beautiful Bellaaa, sent from my torment... to tie me to this mortal coil!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who let him ramble his litany of incoherencies. If only for a few merciful seconds. When you felt like you had had enough, or perhaps fearful with how far he'd take it, you kicked one of the empty glass bottles. It skirted across his floorboards and hit a neighbouring wall, exploding into countless little shards. He looked up then, attracted to the noise, trying to focus on you with his glazed whiskey-coloured eyes. In that moment, you stood your tallest, and just like the bottle you mustered up every last shred of yourself until you built it all back together.

"You." You pointed at him, feeling your voice come on thick, but strong. "You listen to me and listen to me well, I'm only going to say this once, and if you're too fucking drunk to remember it, then more is the pity. But I'm carrying your baby—our god damn baby. And if you're not going to step up and be the father they're going to need, then I'll be that for you. Just say the word, Dazai. Say the word and I'll leave. You'll never hear from me or this child ever again."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who said nothing in contest to that statement, but also said nothing to affirm it, either. His wide, unfocused eyes studied every feature on your face, trying to make sense of something you didn't know. And for a second, your heartrate kicked up. Because somewhere deep down inside, you wanted him to tell you to stay. You wanted him to sober up, to wear that charming, all-endearing smile and convince you that everything was going to be alright. But he didn't. And that was the moment you deflated with a sigh — laying out all the feelings you once had for him on the floor, ready to cast it to the wind. You had made it to his doorway when two strong, heavy arms came around you and all of his weight collapsed against your shoulders.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who buried his head into the crook of your neck, who's hair tickled your face and made your eyes sting with tears. He, who smelled of whiskey and liqueur, but in that moment, held you so tight, crushed you against his taller frame and croaked;

"Stay."

"Please... just, stay."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who seemed like he had undergone a transformation overnight. He always did have a strange knack for that — changing his persona so easily, crafting masks and façades. And maybe it was just that, at least in the beginning. But he had started to come back to work, again. You would enter the familiar doors early in the mornings to the tell-tale sounds of his teasing tone and Kunikida's threats. When you would walk in, he'd straighten up from whatever headlock the blond had trapped him into, and catch your eye.

"Good morning." You would whisper. "Good morning, beautiful Bella." He would murmur right back.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who became used to the weight in your tummy growing heavier each day. It was Atsushi, at first, who recognised the shift in your scent and the sound of a little heartbeat in your belly through his superior feline hearing. Soon after, everyone in the Agency were offering you gifts and well wishes. Dazai received a less warm ovation. Especially from Kunikida, who threatened to flush him into the drainage system if he even thought about being one of those shitty laid-back dads who let the mom do all the work.

"That's cruel, Kunikida-kun!" Dazai whined at him. "To think of the rigid, torturous lifestyle your children will have to endure!" He just barely dodged the office chair that was hurled at his head.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who, after a short while, began to let Dazai close to you again. And maybe it was foolish of you, to let that thing which always existed between you two take spark and kindle with new life. First, it was sitting together in the same booth in the coffee shop. Then, it was gentle, quiet touches — his hand brushing your back as he walked past, your fingers twining together underneath the desk where no one could see. He stole you away for long walks in the nearby park when you should have been working. To your protests, he'd pout, and say, but a pregnant lady needs to enjoy as much rest as she can~! And then, he'd kiss you. Underneath the great spurting fountain at the centre of the park. Long and sweet and promising.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who one time, when you were especially close to your due date and he was feeling especially silly, drew a large smiley face on your swollen belly. Or peppered a shower of kisses along the stretched skin, telling you she was taking too long, that he couldn't wait any longer and had too many kisses saved up for her, already. And on that day where you did go into labour, he held your hand, he placed those lips on your forehead and whispered gentle encouragements as you screamed through the pain.

"You are strong, my beautiful [Name]. Come on, can you give one more push? Just one more." "You're doing so great. You are so unbelievable, so resilient and brave. My beautiful Belladonna, that's it. You can do it."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who, along with the chorus of elated cries from the Armed Detective Agents, made a sound of disbelief when his baby girl came into the world. Slick and wet, red and crying, but beautiful. A copy of her mother's features but with a wild head of curly brown hair. An emotion Dazai had not felt in an extremely long time crept up the back of his throat. It made him laugh, it made his eyes smart with tears. And when he came to your side to see your baby be placed onto your bare chest, a single tear escaped from the side of his eye and got lost when he buried his head into your hair.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who never thought he would ever grow attached to someone. There was you, of course, but if he sat with the discomfort of viewing his life without you in it, it could be done. But trying to see his life without her — his little baby girl — his mind would simply draw a blank. It was unbearable, impossible. Before long, Dazai had insisted you move into his apartment so he could be closer to you. After, of course, you threatened him to scrub the entire place from head-to-toe and remove anything non-child friendly in a black plastic bag. And he did. He used those nimble, clever hands to build the baby a little wooden crib. He would rock her to sleep and place her down, only to watch her for minutes, hours, contemplating how in the world he was ever bestowed with such a blessing.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who sang lullabies to her. Who sang at every given chance he had. For he was such a lovely singer, his soft, velvety voice would be a common thing amongst the walls of your little apartment. Who would sit down with the toddler and teach her all the words he knew.

"Can you say 'Kunikida' my little star?" "Kuni—Kuni—Kooni—!" "Kun—ee—kee—dah!" On the 'dah', he'd pinch her nose. "Kun—eeeee—keeeee—dah!" "Wow~!" Dazai pinched her nose again and she giggled. "Darling, did you hear that? Our little star is a genius." "She takes after her father." You would say from around the bend of the kitchen. Praises and chuckles and the shrieks of a delighted baby would fill the air. Dazai would then drop his voice, thinking you wouldn't hear, and say, "Now, can you say, 'is a bore!'" "Dazai!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who always took his little girl to work with him. Everyone in the Agency fell in love with her very quickly. Atsushi would transform his hands into that of giant tiger paws, pretending to growl, letting her pull at the little tufts even though it hurt him just a tad. Ranpo would ask the little baby mind-numbing riddles, then laugh, proclaiming how she barely had any braincells, but not to worry, because when she's old enough, he'd take her as his apprentice. Kunikida, who would let her handle his little ideal book, and then hold back tears when she ripped one of the pages out of it. The little girl would hold the page up high and from her little perch on the table, shout,

"Kuneeekeeda... is... a boooore!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who was still laughing when he met you on the terrace roof of the Agency that night. He went straight for his little girl and held her up in the air, proclaiming that he was so proud of her. You would settle down together, just the three of you, huddled on the concrete tiles and watching the sun set over the skyline of Yokohama.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would hold your daughter on your lap until her curly brown head of hair tilted into your shoulder and she snored softly. In that moment, you would crane your head onto Dazai's broad shoulder, and whisper;

"I'm glad I stayed."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who would run his long fingers across his sleeping daughter's face softly, so softly, so as not to wake her. Then, he would reach up to you and cup the side of your cheek, captivating you, looking at you with an expression so warm and tender as he whispered right back;

"And I am forever grateful."

✎ . . . requested by the lovely @ringsofsaturnnnn!

WRITING REQUESTS

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd #bsd x reader #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai #dazai x reader #dazai bsd #bsd fanfiction #bsd fanfic #🎋 — writing requests #divider by benkeibear

[jasonsmirrorball]

real love, baby [1210]

a post-wedding moment between newlyweds (fluff, suggestive content but sfw)

“Can I see your hand?”

Jason passes it over his lap wordlessly, and you shift on your elbows to get a better look. The silver band wrapped around his finger glints in the lowlight, and you sink your teeth into your lip to fight back the squeal bubbling in your throat. Flicking your eyes up, you find blue-green eyes on you, a similar grin playing on his lips.

“Let me see yours,” he demands and you let go of his hand to sit up from where you’d been lounging on your stomach. You’re careful with the swathes of white fabric you’re still covered in as you move, the reception dress pooling around you as you extend your hand at him. Playfully, you wiggle your fingers at him, letting the ring catch the light. The pretty diamond winks at you, and you can’t help the little sigh that expels from your lips.

The hour is late and you ought to be getting to bed, but the excitement of the day has yet to settle, love curling in your stomach and wrapping tight around you. The both of you had been eager to escape the reception, dreamy as it had been, and the moment the door to your hotel room had shut you’d fallen back onto the plush sheets of the massive bed with a loud breath. Jason had quickly followed suit, but not before kicking off his dress shoes and slipping your own off, slumping on your left in the black tux you’d had a hard time dragging your eyes away from all evening.

“Mine now,” he breathes out, fingers circling your wrist. “Officially. I’ve got the papers to prove it.”

You grin. “Possessive, aren’t we?”

He inclines forward to nip at your neck and you squirm, giggling, batting him away. “You would be, if you were me. ‘Sides, don’t act like you’re any better. Feels like I’m getting mauled anytime you get your hands on me.”

Your smile stretches from ear to ear, it feels like, as you topple forward to kiss his face, arms coming around his neck. The movement is wobbly, the mattress underneath your knees too soft to remain upright, and you fall into his lap.

“Yes, well,” you sigh. “How else was I supposed to let everyone know you were taken? You have this ring now, but it would’ve been anybody’s guess, before.”

You can feel the metal of his ring press into the small of your back through the fabric of your dress. Jason mutters something, your ears catching the word menace, and tips his face up to catch your mouth with his.

“How’s it feel?” you mumble against his lips. When he pulls away, you giggle at the smear of gloss around his mouth. “You’re a husband now.”

He shrugs. “Knew I was gonna be when I met you,” he says baldly, and you blink. “Just feels like things are the way they’re meant to be, now.”

“What?” you titter, a little stunned, still smiling.

He shifts back to lean against the headboard, hands clasped around you. “I just mean that I knew you were it. Took one look at you and I felt it. Intuition, or something.”

“You’re just saying that to get into my pants,” you tease, but you can’t help the way your heart thumps a little harder when he shakes his head simply, blue-green eyes focused on you solemnly.

“I’m serious.”

And maybe it’s the heightened emotions that have been running rampant all day, but tears pool in your lash line so suddenly his face shifts into one of concern as you croak out his name pitifully.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he coos, and you shake your head, tilting forward to kiss him. A stray tear brushes past your lashes and he laughs goodnaturedly, thumb swiping it away.

“Silly, didn’t I do enough cryin’ for the both of us today?” he chides and it prompts a watery laugh out of you at the memory of your teary fiancé standing at the altar, gulping back the lump in his throat and failing miserable as you walked towards him.

“My turn now,” you murmur through giggles. “Who said you get a monopoly on being emotional?”

“You must’ve missed the notice in the paper.” You swat him half heartedly, and he shakes with laughter.

“Stupid,” you mutter and his fingers dig into your sides.

“Yeah, but you still married me,” he says breezily and you squeal when he brushes against your ribs. The smile on his face is radiant, smug and proud, brighter than the diamond gleaming on the finger he’d slid your ring on.

“I did,” you breathe out, laughter in your voice. “No getting rid of me now.”

His mouth quirks, gazing fondly down at you. “Good.”

There’s a bottle of something bubbly in a bucket of ice alongside two flutes on a tray nearby, and Jason deposits you on the bed to retrieve it, the loud POP it makes eliciting a stream of giggles from you. He joins you soon after, handing you your glass.

Propped against the headboard with his shoulder pressed against yours, you hold your glass up to him. “A toast?”

“Baby,” he huffs out a tired laugh, “I’ve lost count of how many toasts we’ve had tonight.”

“What’s one more?” you wheedle and he sighs in acquiescence. When you look over, his cheeks are flushed, and a quiet smile plays on his lips.

“Sure,” he murmurs. Tipping his chin for you to go on, he adds, “What’s your toast?”

You hum thoughtfully, before you start to laugh. “To Bruce’s face when Dick started dancing with my aunt.”

He throws his head back at that, barking out a laugh. “Sure, I’ll drink to that.”

Your glasses clink together, and you take a sip, the bubbles making you cough a little as they float up to your nose. You nudge him.

“Your turn.”

He thinks for a moment, eyes lighting up gleefully. “To Damian having to pass Dick a tissue when he started crying before we could make our speeches.”

Your brother-in-law’s face had had the both of you hiding behind your cards, and now makes you burst into laughter all over again, face flushing as you gasp for breath.

“Poor Dami,” you murmur in between titters, your drink sloshing precariously in your glass as you tremble.

“We all knew it was going to happen,” Jason tells you, wiping away a tear, lips twitching as he tries to keep a straight face. “He just came prepared.”

The volume of liquid in your glasses steadily decreases as the night grows darker. Slumped against your husband’s side, the two of you recount the reception and the various events that had occurred during its course. You propose toasts until your glasses are empty, at which point Jason takes them and places them on the floor beside your bed so that he can kiss you.

Tucked under his arm and exchanging sleepy kisses, you peer through your lashes at him. Haloed and smudged by your blurry vision, he appears before you with all the qualities of a dream.

“Mine now?” you ask against his lips, slowly being lowered into the mattress.

He hovers over your body, mouth swollen and eyes half-lidded.

“Always was.”

had this in my drafts for ages and finally got around to finishing it. i just think being so lovesick and giggly and newlywed and forever is something that can be so personal….oh to marry your best friend….

#am i missing any tags i don’t think so but anyway this is unedited #jay my heart #jasonsmirrorball #jason todd x reader #divider by benkeibear

[lunarw0rks]

sweet thing | part one

˖⁺‧₊˚ read it on ao3 | masterlist | ask box

price takes a liking to his neighbor. vulnerable, expecting, and in need of his helping hand. it's a good thing he always wanted a family.

john price x pregnant!reader (based on this idea of mine.)

warning(s): MDNI (18+); NOT EDITED, price is touch starved and kinda pathetic, pregnancy, angst/depression, alcoholism, fluff, fem!reader [wc: 1.3k]

Involuntary stress leave, they called it.

But for John, it was just short of decay. Sedentary, bitter—restless. Stuck at home while there's still a fight to be fought, men who need guidance. His men.

Before the stress does him in, he figures boredom will close in on him first, and it would be less merciful than any bullet or blade. Chores are a necessity, and hobbies are nothing more than a temporary soothe to his aches.

Every morning, irony wakes him up cold. Takes its pound of flesh. The world he devoted his adult life to fighting for, has nothing in it for him.

(Stiff fingers, heaving chest, bile in his throat, tremors marring his nervous system.)

It's hours before he can shake the feeling, so he compromises by rising at ungodly hours and fulfilling a rigid routine—still a trained soldier to his core. And by nightfall, he nurses a bottle until he's warm again, ready for the reset at dawn.

As they gaze out the window, his eyes search for purpose. Two fingers parting the blinds. Something, anything, please. But nothing. The sharp sting of cheap booze rushes past his teeth, and he's ready to retreat.

He winces through the taste before he's at attention again. The rumble of an engine cut short right next door. He angles himself to catch a clear view of the person. Instinct yells for him to be vigilant, but the sight in front of him snuffs the bellow.

The flow of a slip dress in the breeze, sticky strands of hair pulled back, glowing skin, a nurturing hand resting on the bump that shows through the fabric.

You look anything but thrilled while you wrangle your bags and fight the wind gusts, and you're well aware of it.

All John sees is bloom. Purpose. Duty.

Before he can gather all his wits, he's closed the front door behind him, his spilled bottle dribbling along the end table. It's not so much your beauty that drives him; he isn't a superficial man and can't afford to be.

A living, breathing person is what quickens his stride. Someone to talk to. Someone to touch and study. As of late, the only people near have been on the other side of the TV screen, fueled by dramatics and in character.

You find yourself stuck in your headspace again, mentally listing all the tasks that await you inside your house. Chores, mostly, some grocery shopping—and loads more of that endless baby planning. Relaxation wasn't an option and you're actively learning to accept that. Although, it's admittedly difficult to feel any other way when you've got another human to consider now.

John clears his throat. "Let me take tha' for you, darling."

He waits until you meet his stare to extend a hand, fingers grazing the flimsy straps of your shopping bags. You freeze, soaking in the sight of him.

"Hm?" Your brows knit together, and it's only then that you catch up with him.

"Your bags."

The man has already taken them before the words finish rolling off his tongue, but he stays in place.

A soft chuckle comes out of you to crack open the sheet of embarrassment. "Sorry, I'm a little out of it today."

Pregnancy brain, you want to blame it on. But deep down you know it's because kindness is a new taste nowadays.

Most are courteous and accommodating, making way for you. Others look at you like dirt on their shoes. Fatigue draining your features doesn't help, and neither does the absence of a wedding band. Early on, you were naive enough to believe society had moved beyond the stigma. Wrong, more wrong, and a fool is all you are nowadays, even if only in your head.

Exhausted, not out of it, he analyses, and his heart aches.

"It's alright." His voice is smooth as nectar, leaving goosebumps on your skin that you'll chalk up to the wind. "Shouldn't be carrying all this by yourself, anyhow."

You fight the urge to scoff and instead lead the way to the front porch.

He's right. You shouldn’t be doing any of this alone.

Turning the key, you step inside and let the words spill. “Yeah, I, uh— I didn’t have anyone to call.”

Price should be more shocked by your words, but he isn’t. He is really, and truly, desensitized to all the misfortune around him. And it’s not any different with you. His eyes—conditioned to spot every minute detail of a person—took milliseconds to notice your left hand.

Feel her out. Find out more.

“That so?” He questions softly but doesn’t give you a chance to respond. You’ve painted the whole picture and more.

His words are full of every sensibility possible. “That’s a shame.” Pity. Empathy. Grief. Outrage. All except condescension; none of this is your fault, he can sense it.

You expect admonition.

Leading a stranger inside is bad enough, and walking the fine line between small talk and oversharing is worse.

But you can’t bring yourself to taste it. Outside of some coworkers and your mother, this is your first taste of organic interaction, and it’s been overwhelmingly amicable so far. Not something you can take lightly; loneliness is prevalent.

You let out a tired sigh, letting the silent gesture speak for itself. What else can you say? He's already got you pegged after spending all but two minutes with you. Makes you wonder how you haven't noticed him sooner, though you remember his driveway is usually vacant and the blinds are always closed.

By now, it's obvious that if he had ill intentions, he would've acted on them by now. The silence isn't thick or stiff—it's refreshing, oddly enough.

When his mouth upturns, the crow's feet around his eyes are made visible. They've witnessed things, awful things, no doubt. But he's also got a world of wisdom in them.

This is the part where you find a farewell, something moderately polite so you don't feel awful for kicking him out. (Not your fault you need to rest your feet. At least you get the sense that he'll understand.)

In search for the words, you place a hand on your stomach, "well, it was kind of you to bring that in, uh—"

"—John." He interjects.

Out of habit, you form a clumsy smile and ache to get the proper words out. "It was very kind of you, John. Thank you."

Without any further direction, he's able to pick up on your hints for him to make his exit. The bar is so low these days, it's almost shocking. Shuffling to follow him to the front door, your hand seizes the knob.

There's a lot left unsaid, despite meeting your handsome neighbor only a short time ago. The voice inside urges you to keep it short. Send him off, get out of his hair. He was just being nice.

"I should thank you again," you blurt, almost abruptly. Price turns on his heels with little surprise, a leer written on his thin lips. "Next time, I'll take another trip to carry the bags."

"No next time, love." A purr and a new nickname.

Too smitten to even notice the ruffle of some paper when he reaches a hand in his pocket. Even stole the pen off your entry table (a.k.a the junk-pile-of-mail-table) and you were none the wiser. Dated, the way he scribbles on the crumbled receipt and hands it to you between his index and middle.

Heat rises up your neck and to your face when you inch closer to retrieve the number, somehow finding it within yourself to not break eye contact. John's gaze stays genuine, despite the puff of his chest and the way he breathes your scent in shamelessly.

Albeit frazzled—you weren't born yesterday; he's attractive and extremely luring and you're single and hormonal. Wouldn't take much for something to happen.

And if not, you know you'll have fond daydreams, at the very least.

"You ever need anything, give me a call. 'M good for more than bag carrying."

#divider by benkeibear #not sure what to think of this #john price #captain price x reader #price mw2 #john price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #price cod #price x you #john price x you #task force 141 #cod

[orchidsangel]

MY BABY, MY BABY. YOU'RE MY BABY, SAY IT TO ME. (JT)

notes/cw ~ fluff, minor(ish) angst, fem!reader, talks of having a baby, idk i just had really bad dad!jason brain rot and i felt like i had to share it with my lovely angels, (2.3k)

The sound of laughter rings through your house like jingle bells during the holiday season, pitter patters of tiny feet tumbling against hardwood floors, and bigger ones chasing after them invade your ears. Squeals of laughter pour out through an open window as you pull bags of groceries out of the trunk of your car, the sound of running dying down when the trunk closes with a thump. "Is mommy home?" You hear a familiarly sweet voice say. "I think she is. Come on, let's see if we can beat her to the door."

Bags in hand, you walk up the pathway to the entrance of your house. The street of your suburban neighborhood, mostly empty on this chilly winter night, save for some residents walking their dogs before lights get turned off. The sound of a lock clicks before you're even halfway up the path, and soon after, you're met with Jason and your daughter standing in the doorway looking ridiculous, goofy grins on both of their faces. Red bows are hidden amongst his hair, some tied around short braids, some just hanging loosely on a few strands bunched together. Pink pajama pants peek out from under the red tutu she's wearing, and she dons pink ballet slippers on her feet as if she's about to perform the Nutcracker. 

He steps outside, meeting you at the top of the steps, hooking his fingers under the canvas straps of your reusable tote bags—an investment you'd made to offset some of the carbon emissions from his bike—and takes them into his hands. "New hair, huh?" you ask, eyeing the variety of red satin ribbons tied in knots littering the expanse of his head. "Yeah, you like?" He asks, turning towards you, lowering his head a bit so you can get a better look. You roll your eyes, but there's a smile playing on your lips at the image of Jason sitting down while your daughter's tiny hands play hairdresser with bows and barrettes.

You close the front door behind him as he makes his way toward the kitchen to unpack the groceries, turning your attention to the little girl in front of you sporting a toothy grin. "I thought ballet ended hours ago," you say, eyeing the layers of bright red tulle you had previously hidden to avoid the specks of glitter that shed every time she moved. "She had to practice her pirouettes." you hear Jason say from inside the fridge. "Yeah, mommy. I was practicing my pirouettes." She pouts her lips and cocks her head to the side, small hands fidgeting as she tries to use cuteness to get out of trouble. You cross your arms and squint your eyes at her, "Uh huh. And the hair?" You gesture to Jason, walking toward you. "What does that have to do with pirouettes?" 

He joins the two of you in the living room holding up a container of Gerber baby puffs, using them as a distraction to get both him and his little girl out of trouble. "What?" You ask, deadpan. "What d'ya mean what? We've got an infant I don't know about?" Your daughter gasps, eyes lighting up suddenly. "A sibling!" He laughs, turning towards you with a raised eyebrow. "No, you jerk. Him, not you, honey," you say, quickly correcting yourself. "They're for me." You snatch the container of blueberry-flavored rice puffs out of his hand, peeling off the lid and shoving a handful into your mouth. "God forbid women enjoy things." 

You pop a few more into your mouth before feeling a tug at the coat you still hadn't taken off. When you look down, you're met with your daughter, mouth open and waiting for you to share. She stares at you with wide eyes, using your inability to say no to her to her advantage. Sighing, you raise the container a bit and pause, "Only a few, and you have to get ready for bed after." she nods her head, mouth still open, and you tilt and pour out a substantial amount. She closes her mouth and displays her adorable little smile once again before running off to the bathroom to brush her teeth. "Hold on," Jason shouts down the hallway. "Say thank you to your mom!" You hear feet running again, and soon enough, feel the soft squeeze of your daughter giving you a hug; she presses her head into your lower abdomen as you bring your hand up to softly stroke her hair. "Thank you, Mommy." She says before moving on to Jason and giving an equally soft hug despite using all her might. "And thank you, Daddy, for letting me do your hair." She lets go and scurries off again, leaving a trail of red glitter in her wake for you to clean up.

She disappears into the bathroom, and you watch the hallway, now empty, as she gets ready for bed. You sigh, listening to the sound of water running while she independently does her end-of-the-night tasks, something you'd still helped her with not too long ago. Jason's arms creep around your waist, pulling you against him. His chin rests on your shoulder, and you feel something tickle your neck, but you're not sure if it's his hair or a ribbon. He notices the solemn look in your eyes, a stark contrast to the liveliness he'd seen in you just a few moments ago. "What's wrong? Is it the glitter? Because I can clean that up." He says. "No, not that." You nibble on your bottom lip, lost in thought, trying to organize your feelings. "Just… she's gotten so big." He hums in acknowledgment, his way of saying he shares the sentiment. "I just don't know where the time went." You mumble, overcome with an unexpected sadness. "She's only five." He says into your neck, bringing his hands up to your shoulders and gently pulling off the coat you'd forgotten to take off. "Yeah, but she was just a baby not that long ago. I swear."

The both of you watch her move between her bedroom and the bathroom, soft dark brown curls bouncing with every movement. At five, she was already more responsible than most children her age, having a pretty concrete idea of right and wrong well before most kids do. Responsible for her age, but still just a baby in the grand scheme of everything, and sometimes the two of you would wonder if Jason's occupation might end up inadvertently affecting her and warping her idea of justice, but those fears were almost always disproven as soon as they came and oftentimes you didn't worry more than a few minutes. "We're doing a good job." He says from behind you, rubbing your back in an attempt to take away some of the worry. Normally, it would go away with ease, today, not so much. "We're not bad parents." You say with conviction, but you both know you're just trying to convince yourself of it. "We're not. You know we're not." 

He turns you around to face him, away from the hallway, so you can't dwell any longer. His hands move to your upper arms, kneading gently as he searches for your eyes. "What's wrong? Talk to me." You struggle to make eye contact, unsure of your next words. "I think…I think I want another baby." You breathe out, looking down, unable to meet his gaze. Seconds pass, but they feel like minutes, and you barely breathe while you wait for his reaction. Not a single thing in the universe could've prepared you for the words that come out of his mouth. "Is that all? Is that what you were sulking about?" You look up at him, eyes wide, as he lets out a breathy laugh. Oh Jason, your Jason, taking your face in his hands and leaning down so he can look you in your eyes. "Don't scare me like that again, okay? Do you know how fucked up shit has to be for me to be the optimist out of the two of us?" It's your turn to laugh now, a weight having been lifted off your shoulders. "Language," you warn. "Aw, come on, she's way out of earshot." He bends down and presses his lips against yours; you close your eyes, leaning into him, hands finding his chest as you feel all of your worries melt away.

"Blegh." 

The sudden sound of a disgusted child, your disgusted child, pulls you away from Jason, and you wipe your mouth in embarrassment. It's just your daughter, but you still feel like a kid who's just been caught stealing candy and is about to get lectured into oblivion; Jason, however, handles it with ease. Taking on a playfully stern tone and pointing an accusatory finger at her, he asks, "Why are you up, little lady? Shouldn't you be in bed?" She mirrors his action, pointing a finger at him now. "You didn't tuck me in or read me my bedtime story." He puts his thumb and forefinger on his chin, seemingly thinking it over. "Hmmm, seems you've got me there." He shrugs before picking her up into his arms and giving her a kiss on the forehead. "You've gone soft," you say with a laugh, the embarrassment of being caught having passed. "What can I say? She's bossy. Gets it from her mama." You nudge his shoulder lightly as he turns in the direction of her room. "Alright, that's enough out of you." 

He leaves the door to her bedroom slightly cracked, and you can hear their whispers as they do their nightly routine of picking out a book to read, followed by her falling asleep in his arms. "What do you have in mind tonight?" He asks, laying her down gently on the bed adorned with princess sheets and stuffed animals he'd bought for her during trips around the world. "Can we finish Lord of the Rings?" She grabs her favorite stuffie, a gray bunny with droopy ears and button eyes, and holds it close to her chest as Jason climbs in beside her. "I don't think we can finish it, but we can fit a few pages in before it's time for you to go to sleep. That work for you?" He leans over the side of the bed and picks up a worn copy of Lord of the Rings that had been sitting on top of a stack of books he kept in her room solely for the purpose of bedtime. She nods her head at his question and snuggles further into him as he flips to the page they left off at.

You hear the sound of rustling and know the bedtime story has commenced, leaving you to clean up the mess of glitter and ribbons. Broom in hand, you start to sweep up the remnants of her "pirouette practice." Going up and down the hallway, sweeping back and forth. You catch a glimpse of the photos in the frames lining your wall before coming to a full stop and reminiscing about how far you guys have come. There were some pictures from when it was just the two of you, but most of those were kept digital, hidden amongst miscellaneous screenshots and disorganized photo albums. The majority of the framed photos came after she was born; something so special about being able to hold a photo of the three of you in your hands, to have it on display in your home proudly saying this is my family. Corny, maybe, but you'd never regretted starting the collection, especially since it had been Jason's idea. He'd been insistent that you keep a scrapbook to commemorate your ever-changing lives, but after realizing neither of you had the knack for cutting and gluing bits of paper onto pretty pages, you'd settled on the wall. Now, you look at them so often and always with fondness. Oh, how things had changed since that day, you'd met so long ago.

You don't know how long you'd been standing there, but you hear a door closing softly, and you turn to see Jason trying to make his way into the hallway with minimal noise. "Is she asleep?" You ask, barely above a whisper. "Out like a light." He says, joining you in front of the framed memories. A picture of her as a newborn, freshly discharged from the hospital, catches his eye, "she was really tiny, wasn't she?" He says, voice cracking a little as he remembers the overwhelming fear he'd experienced when you were in labor and how it all went away once he had held her in his arms. You hum in agreement as you both get lost in pictures of her from the past. Birthdays and holidays, family events and major milestones, there was a picture for everything.

There was one of her on his shoulders; she couldn't have been more than two at the time, her tiny fingers laced through locks of jet-black hair. You remember like it was yesterday; she had just watched Ratatouille and was trying to imitate Remy. He had played into it, and he couldn't get her off his shoulders for days after that. Another, taken from her first trip to the beach. You sit behind her, keeping her upright and holding her arms out, making one wave at Jason, who was behind the camera. You smile to yourself, the two of you standing outside of your daughter's bedroom, mostly content, remembering what it was like to have a baby in your arms. The memory of bringing her home floods his brain; how nervous he was yet so insanely happy he couldn't control the smile on his face. A shaky laugh falls from his lips as he pulls down a picture of the three of you still in the hospital, thumb pressed against the glass like he's trying to physically feel the moment. "Yeah…I could do it again." 

been working on this almost non stop for 9 hours, literally my longest fic yet (only by like 600 words, but still !!!), special thanks to @kiyozu (my beloved) for giving me this idea !! eek, hope you guys enjoyed it <33 (user orchidsangel is going to sleep now) (also tried following up dialogue with actions this time, gonna see how that goes bc if it’s too hard to follow along with i’ll just go back to he said she said)

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd angst #jason todd fic #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x fem!reader #red hood fluff #red hood angst #jason todd i’ll love you forever #divider by benkeibear

[oceans-beloved]

Mushroom Oasis March (Day 7 : Sleeping)

Ever since I played mushroom oasis, I've been coming back to the meadow scene for comfort again and again, and this event gave me the motivation to finally make an ambience/ sleeping aid!

Hope you all like it!!!

I made two versions!!

If anyone wants the version without the vocals it's below the cut!!

#mushroom oasis #mushroom oasis march #mushroom oasis vn #mushroom oasis mychael #sleeping aid #yandere visual novel #🍄 #🎧 #visual novel #mychael mushroom oasis #mychael #divider by benkeibear #divider by saradika #Youtube #yandere vn #AND YES I'M AWARE OF THE OVER USE OF DIVIDERS.... #tumblr is my journal and the dividers are my washi tape🤭😋

[preeningpisces]

JJK Men vs. Tinder

What the men are like on Tinder! Non-Curse AU

AN: I discussed these with my sister & it’s such a fun topic. If you have any thoughts/headcanons, pls share them!

Includes: Choso, Geto, Gojo, Kenjaku, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji

Below the cut, toxic behavior, implied f!reader, enjoy!

Choso

❥ Photos: not the best at taking photos. They’re awkward, but in an endearing way. A classic above view selfie where he tries to look neutral/cool, but it ends up looking kind of pouty and oh-so babygirl. A photo with itadori with a forced smile, and one that itadori took of him while they were at an arcade & he won a plushie from a claw machine

❥ Bio: itadori did some major editing because Choso wrote like a whole paragraph that no one wants to read

Hi! New to the dating scene. If you like video games, anime or sci-fi too then should talk🖤

❥ Opener: pretty standard, afraid of coming off like a creep because he's awkward

hi how are you?

❥ Messaging: makes you feel like you’re messaging a bot at first because his responses are pretty fast because he's eager, but also straightforward and bland because he doesn't want to say something wrong. Itadori has to come in & do damage control until Choso can see you're interested. Very much a penpal--might be a week or more before he asks you out. He's the type that wants to have an emotional connection going on a date

❥ How he asks you out: he's nervous but he's direct. Stares the phone down until you reply

I really like you and want to meet you. do you want to go on a date?

❥ First date: he’ll take you somewhere sweet and fun, like an arcade or a carnival. Having activities takes some pressure off, which helps with his nerves a lot. Googled how to act on a date, so he brings flowers - aaaaw. Pays too, even if funds are tight.

❥ If it doesn’t work out: omg having to end things will STRESS HIM THE FUCK OUT. He's going to mull over the decision for a hot minute before he does it. He's apologetic, but makes it clear that he doesn't want to see you anymore

♡ ♡ ♡

Geto

❥ Photos: the best at taking photos. They’re pretty normal for the most part, one with him petting a cat, another at a cafe with Gojo and Shoko. But he has a pretentious black & white photo of him reading a book or staring off to the side. He looks so pretty it cancels out the cringe tho

❥ Bio: keeps it simple, he believes it's better not reveal too much. That's what getting to know someone is for, afterall. Definitely has his spotify connected

Looking for real connection, someone that's my bestfriend before anything else. Always looking for new music, any song recs?

❥ Opener: opens with something from your profile to show he actually read it and didn't just swipe because of your looks, and to start with an interesting convo!

Saw you like reading. What’s the best book you’ve read so far this year?

❥ Messaging: engaging conversationalist, but not the type to instant message endlessly. Doesn't take forever to respond tho, and if he's about to become busy he'll warn you. Will ask more questions about you than he will share about himself. Gotta keep up that mysterious art hoe vibe he ikes to give off

❥ How he asks you out: would ask you out pretty quickly, perhaps after talking for 2 days or a day and a half. You’d be instant messaging, and he just says your name as if he’s about to say something serious, & lets it hang there for a moment before following up with:

I’ve really enjoyed talking, we should go on a date

❥ First date: chill but gives you something to talk about. Museum, aquarium, bar with a jazz music night, pottery class, etc. Gentlemanly but in a cool way, if that makes sense? Not quite as strict as Nanami, but you will feel a bit like a princess. Definitely pays! Cuts out the awkwardness by saying he's going to cover things before you even go

❥ If it doesn’t work out: lowkey kind of dismissive! He’s not going to outright ghost you…but he’ll breadcrumb you until you bring it up

♡ ♡ ♡

Gojo

❥ Photos: has the most normal photos. Always looks like he’s having fun & hanging with people. One where he took an unwilling selfie with Nanami, another of him standing over a maximum height chart at an amusement park with an exaggerated pout, and a video deadlifting Geto at the gym with passerbys staring judgementally

❥ Bio: uses the stereotypical bios but ironically. You need 3D chess insight to know he’s joking because it kind of suits him LOL

If you like pineapple on pizza, it’s not gonna work 🙅‍♂️🙅‍♂️🙅‍♂️ looking for my partner in crime. The Pam to my Jim 🥰 short king 👑 let me climb you like a tree mens 14 shoes, if you know what I mean 😈

❥ Opener: Gojo likes a casual and playful approach. If your profile has something funny he'll open with that

heeeeey what’s up?

❥ Messaging: weaponizes girl texting. Playful, cheeky. Instant messanger most of the time, but will randomly disappear for a whole day and come back with a lame explanation like 'sorry, was busy with work'

❥ How he asks you out: he’d ask while you’re joking around, after you roast him. Will text for several days before meeting up

mmhm why don't you come say that to my face? 🤨 this weekend over coffee my treat definitely not a date or anything

❥ First date: surprisingly, he goes for the classic coffee shop, window shopping, or movie type dates. Very lackadaisical when planning--kind of stressful if you're a big planner or have a tight schedule. A lot more chill on the date than he was over text. Will pay for everything, obviously, might even buy something you see and casually mention liking

❥ If it doesn’t work out: straight up ghosts you - sorry buddy. He just doesn't like dealing with that mess, and to him, if you haven't been seeing each other that long he doesn't feel obligated to end things directly

♡ ♡ ♡

Kenjaku

❥ Photos: normal, flattering, down to earth. He wants people to swipe so he can mess with them. On other occasions, MIGHT use random people's photos and catfish just because he was feeling goofy. Has been banned SEVERAL times

❥ Bio: Kenjaku is tricky. His profile and approaches change all the time because he's the type that wants to do 'social experiments' on Tinder. I can see him doing the whole 'I made the most toxic profile to see if ppl will still match with me' or making one that comes off SO sketchy it's insane anyone would talk to him. Even worse, will make one looking for a serious relationship only to commit psychological warfare on the poor sap who matched.

❥ Opener: depends on what he wants. Very much a wild card. Some examples:

sends a questionable link - it's a photo of your house from Google Streetview

If being normal, like Geto he comments on something from your profile: you like hiking, have you been to X trail? It has great shade

❥ Messaging: eratic. Either endless chatter, or radio silence. Definitely the most verbose of the bunch--if you've caught his interest or bring up a topic he likes he's texting paragraphs. Will get bored easily if you're a dry texter. Occasionally sends voice memos because it's like a one-sided phone call LOL . Sometimes he asks out quickly, sometimes he doesn't. Sigh.

❥ How he asks you out: I'm a broken record at this point, but it depends on his intent! Sometimes he's charming, sometimes he's insane and wants to creep you out

I have tickets to X, want to join me?

That cafe you went to yesterday looks nice, we should go together sometime

❥ First date: if he's trying to charm you, he'll take you somewhere he knows you like (that he can stand) OR somewhere entertaining like an open mic comedy night. If he's being a menace, he'll take you somewhere really weird like a Quaker meeting (thank you fleabag). Or just stand you up. He'll actually be there, just to watch how you react

❥ If it doesn’t work: will gaslight you into believing YOU'RE the one with the problem and are the reason it isn't working. You might delete the app after suffering this demon

♡ ♡ ♡

Nanami

❥ Photos: his company headshot photo, a few work function photos that he’s cropped and are blurry. He’s not smiling in any of them, except for one of him accepting an award at work where he gave the smallest smile for the photo to look agreeable.

❥ Bio: fills it out like a job application. Straight to the point.

Dating with intention. I enjoy reading and cooking. I look forward to speaking with you.

❥ Opener: Nothing crazy - very standard but more formal than typical

Good afternoon, how are you doing?

❥ Messaging: very formal and polite, doesn’t like small talk but will engage in interesting convos. Doesn't reply instantly, but doesn't leave you hanging for hours--he's a busy guy, afterall. Respectful of your time, and expects that in return. Prefers phone calls! Especially while he's making dinner.

❥ How he asks you out: he’s very effecient, he’s not going to be your penpal. He’ll ask you out within the first day of talking if he’s feeling the right vibe. Thinks meeting in person is better for getting to know someone. Will arrange all the plans and make sure it works with both of your schedules comfortably

I would like to get to know you better. Would you be interested in dinner at XX?

❥ First date: classic dinner man! Won’t take you somewhere intimidating, but definitely something nicer. He doesn’t go on dates willy nilly, so he’s going to treat you right. Will be baffled if you offer to pay

❥ If it doesn’t work: Very respectful, of course. He'll let you know quickly as well and won't lead you on. Will thank you for going on a date with him and say it was a pleasure to meet you.

♡ ♡ ♡

Sukuna

❥ Photos: a shirtless pic with him flexing, one of those middle-aged man selfies where they look stern but also a bit confused bc they aren't sure they're doing it right LOL. One of his car or a bike. He's gotta look badass but kind of looks lame

❥ Bio: BOSSY. He basically has a DNI list but for swiping. Sees it as you being audacious if you swipe on him and aren't worth his time

If you're clingy, desperate, have kids or a moron don't bother

❥ Opener: will say something about your appearance - whether this is positive or negative entirely depends on why he swiped. Somtimes he'll swipe on ppl he finds ugly just to see if he gets a match. He's an asshole like that

You look sexy as hell in that 3rd picture

Don't get your hopes up. You're fucking ugly, just thought you needed to know

❥ Messaging: very dry texter. Don’t ask multiple questions, only 1 will be answered. Takes long to reply as well. Prefers calls, but doesn't like calls where it's just chatting to chat yknow?

❥ How he asks you out: basically tells you you're going out LOL. Will ask you out pretty quickly, he just doesn't care for texting that much

Come to X on Friday. We're getting food.

❥ First date: He's going to take you to dinner, but is one of those annoying mfers that's like 'if she won't get messy in public she's too full of herself' so it'll be like bbq or wings at a sports bar. 50-50 type of guy. He's not spending $$ on someone he doesn't know

❥If it doesn't work: oh you know he's going to be ruthless. Your ego isn't going to be wounded, it's going to be evaporated

♡ ♡ ♡

Toji

❥ Photos: only 2 photos - a shirtless, dirty mirror selfie with flash obscuring most of his face & a gym selfie where he’s flexing

❥ Bio: tinder isn’t important to him, so he isn’t going to put effort into his profile, but if it catches him the occasional hookup he won’t complain. One of those terrifying mfers that straight up puts their number on their profile (I'm always tempted to send them something insane)

Not on here often. shoot me a text if we match (XXX) XXX-XXXX

❥ Opener: he doesn’t usually open, you gotta text him first. What a bitch. If he does open he'll comment on a photo, something that stands out so it isn't odd to comment on it, but still invovles your appearance somehow so it lets you know he's basically checked you out. He knows being too bold will scare most ppl off

I like the hair. suits you

❥ Messaging: nonchalant, and doesn't reply quickly. Dry, but not as dry as Sukuna. Big breadcrumber - engages juuuust enough to keep you around

❥ How he asks you out: Toji’s intention is usually hookups, so he’s pretty straightforward & will ask if you want to meet that night. Too old for ‘you up’ or ‘wyd’

I’m at X. Want to join for drinks?

❥ First date: usually a bar. Then his or your place. Very low effort. Whether he pays or not depends on you, to be honest. If he gets the vibe you don't care, he won't offer. If he gets the vibe you will care, he'll pay. Very good at reading people

❥ If it doesn’t work out: ghosts, but keeps your number if he wants to hit you up again. You’ll probably get a text 3 months later LOL

♡ ♡ ♡

#this was so fun they’re all such losers #dreams of choso ☁︎ #dreams of geto ☁︎ #dreams of gojo ☁︎ #dreams of kenjaku ☁︎ #dreams of nanami ☁︎ #dreams of sukuna ☁︎ #dreams of toji ☁︎ #jjk headcanons #choso headcanons #geto headcanons #gojo headcanons #kenjaku headcanons #nanami headcanons #sukuna headcanons #toji headcanons #choso x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #kenjaku x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #toji x reader #divider by benkeibear #divider by animatedglittergraphics n more #headcanons ☽ #dreams ☽ #sweet dreams ☽

[pink-horizon]

ೀ ׅ ۫ ⠀͡ 𝘸𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 (𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾)

#divider by benkeibear #⋆ ⋆ ⋆⋆ #icons #layouts #layout #moodboard #messy layouts #random moodboard #kpop layouts #kpop moodboard #kpop #soft moodboard #karina #karina aespa #aespa karina #karina icons #lq aespa #lq moodboard #fresh moodboard #fresh icons #brown mb #brown icons #aesthetic brown #kpop packs #kpop pfp #kpop icons #brown pfp #fahsion

[benkeibear]

Fuzzy lines | red/pink

For custom colors just shoot me an ask!

Please like and reblog if you use!!!

#divider #divider by benkeibear #cute dividers #hand drawn #aesthetic dividers #red dividers #pink dividers #line dividers #borders #graphics #writing resources #cute aesthetic #red aesthetic #pink aesthetic

[arlertdarling]

❥ A-Z HEADCANONS: LEVI ACKERMAN

( A ) AFFECTION — how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?

levi is not excessively nor outwardly affectionate. he prefers to show affection through small, random touches — a hand on the small of your back as you walk, fingers grazing your elbow as he moves past you, resting his face against your shoulder when you’re busy doing something, brushing his thumb over your knuckles as you briefly hold hands. he tends to avoid showing this kind of affection in public.

then there’s the more frequent but not as noticeable affection, the affection that goes beyond skinship — running you a hot bath after a long day without you even having to ask, remembering small details about you that sometimes even you forget, always finding time for you even when he’s up to his neck in work. the longer you’re with him, the more you realise that levi is actually very affectionate, but only you will ever know that about him.

( B ) BEST FRIEND — what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?

you have to be observant to notice the shift in your friendship and level of closeness with levi. it happens over time, and presents itself in small increments, but once you see it, it changes the way you perceive everything he says and does.

what starts as similar interests and shared habits, a mutual tolerance and eventual enjoyment in the other’s company, turns into meaningful conversations and long hours of just being in one another’s presence. he’s able to curse insults at anyone, but it’s only with those closest to him that his words will be followed by a slight upward tilt of his lip.

( C ) CUDDLES — do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?

despite how it may seem, levi is actually quite fond of cuddling. at first, this wasn’t obvious; usually you’re the one to initiate it after all. you thought he only accepted it because he wanted to make you happy, but after some time, you begin picking up on his ‘tells’ — small things that show that he enjoys it as much as you do, like how he’s always quick to interrogate you when you move to get up, or the smile he hides in your neck that he thinks you don’t notice. he also doesn’t seem to have a preference on who’s the big or little spoon, as long as it’s you he’s with.

( D ) DOMESTIC — do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?

eventually, yes. levi would really value domestic life, but it would take a while for him until he feels ready to take that step. as for domestic responsibilities, it’s safe to say you will never see a house cleaner than one that levi ackerman is living in. he’s not nearly as good at cooking as he is cleaning though. i think he would be better than average, but only because he’s naturally detail-oriented and follows instructions to the letter. he’ll get annoyed if his food doesn’t turn out perfect, insisting that it’s the recipe’s fault and not his own since he did everything correctly and it still turned out ‘like absolute horseshit. i’d say it belongs in the trash but i wouldn’t even feed this to the rats. what a fucking abomination’.

( E ) ENDING — if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

the way he does most things: quickly and efficiently. first, he waits until you both have time where you won’t be interrupted or distracted, and then he gets straight to the point. he’s not the type to sugarcoat either. he makes his reasons and feelings clear, but he doesn’t do so to be mean or intentionally hurt you; together or not, you’re still someone he cares about. the situation is uncomfortable for him too and if there was a way not to hurt your feelings at all, he would attempt it, but when it comes to ending a relationship, he sees such efforts as futile. hurt feelings are unavoidable while communication and honesty are what allow relations between people to function and thrive. going by that, he doesn’t see any better way than to just say it how it is.

( F ) FIANCÉ — how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?

as with settling, it takes a lot of time. he believes that he struggles with commitment, but it’s actually more like trust that he struggles with, and in reality, he’s a very loyal and committed partner. your relationship never really had an official beginning or established label to commit to, it sort of just grew and developed organically on its own, without either of you meaning for it to blossom as much as it did. there was only ever an unspoken agreement that your relationship was past the point of an average friendship or camaraderie.

marriage is not at the forefront of levi’s mind, nor is it any sort of long-term goal that he aims to achieve. he’s happy as long as you’re happy, but he also isn’t in a rush to make such big decisions that, in his opinion, don’t change much about a relationship. with enough time, he might be eager, but overall, it’s more of a luxury than a necessity in his eyes.

( G ) GENTLE — how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

physically, levi is mostly quite gentle with you, constantly conscious of his own strength. sometimes he isn’t, but that’s typically when he’s trying to be more serious or stern.

emotionally, he is harsher, words toughened by his bluntness and logic. you’ve become immune to letting any of it prick you personally though. you know that ultimately, even with all his sharp edges, levi is not only one of the most understanding people you know, but also often right about what he says.

( H ) HUGS — do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

levi is not the biggest hugger, preferring other smaller forms of touch and affection, but it makes hugs from him feel special. they come about when you would expect them — when you’re tired or in a low mood, staring at him longingly because there’s nothing more you want than to be in your lover’s arms — but occasionally levi will indulge himself and hug you without warning, wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you close and nuzzling his cheek into the soft skin between your neck and shoulder, making you smile and ruffle his hair.

when he’s comforting you, his hugs are firm and patient, lasting as long as you need them to, and sometimes come with a few strokes on the back — but when the hug is unexpected, when he’s clinging to you, pliant and yearning, his hugs are soft yet heavy, as if you’re a mirage that might vanish if he lets go.

( I ) I LOVE YOU — how fast do they say the L-word?

even rarer than a hug is saying ‘i love you’. it tends to catch you by surprise when it happens because you’re so used to his ‘show don’t tell’ approach to love. you might be getting ready to part ways for an expedition, exchanging farewells that you’ve said so many times before that you almost don’t notice it when levi adds on three more words than usual. or you might be blinking your eyes open to the dawn, his bare chest against your back and a warm palm on your hip when his lips ghost over your shoulder blade, trail up to your nape and whisper the sentiment into your skin like he wants to leave it there for safekeeping, so you can trace it with your fingertips and think of him in his absence.

( J ) JEALOUSY — how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?

though levi likes to think he’s rational and respects that you are your own person, he does have his moments. he only gets jealous a small amount and not often, but he will never admit to even that. he doesn’t really need to, considering you’ve known him long enough to understand how he’s feeling just by looking at him.

his brows pull together, more tightly than normal, and his jaw clenches and unclenches while he debates whether or not it would be worth voicing the vaguely rude remarks in his head. at that point, you always give him a swift squeeze, bringing his attention back to you so you can flash him a small, knowing smile. this never fails to bring him back to his senses, his adam’s apple bobbing and his eyes darting away, embarrassed.

( K ) KISSES — what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?

most of levi’s kisses are pecks, or short but soft and purposeful. his favourite places to kiss you are your shoulders and neck, particularly so if you’re cuddling. if he’s feeling especially romantic, he’ll press a kiss to your knuckles, palms or wrists too.

his favourite places to be kissed are his cheeks, lips and chest. kisses behind his ears and in his hair will make him nudge you away because they make him flustered, but they’re places he also loves.

( L ) LITTLE ONES — how are they around children?

babies and toddlers are drawn to him, tweens hate him, and teenagers are either afraid of him, respect him or both. levi himself, though, doesn’t have any particularly strong feelings about children, regardless of age. teens are probably the only ones he sort of knows how to speak to, but any younger than that and he’s hopeless. if given the chance, i think he would be quick at learning how to take care of them, and would perhaps even start to see the appeal in having them.

( M ) MORNING — how are mornings spent with them?

mornings with levi tend to be early ones. he likes to be productive with his time, usually rising with the sun, and prefers to make breakfast by himself (whenever you try to help or make it yourself, he always finds a way to critique you). after eating, he’ll shave, wash up, comb his hair, then brew some tea and immediately get started on his duties. on days that he doesn’t have any, he will still wake up early, but he’ll spend his time reading, cleaning or people-watching, sipping away at his tea as the hours roll by.

he doesn’t say nor show it, but he enjoys it a lot when you come and keep him company. whether you rest your head on his lap or just sit in the same room as him doing something else, your presence alone has a large influence on his mood for the day.

( N ) NIGHT — how are nights spent with them?

nighttime is levi’s favourite time of day. it wasn’t always his favourite since he has insomnia, but it’s improved ever since he met you. he’s found that it’s easier to fall and stay asleep with you by his side, tucked into his arm, face pressed into his shoulder or chin on top of his head, your limbs thrown around him like a blanket. he tends to sleep best when he can listen to you talk; when he can let the strain of the day melt away to the sound of your voice and the vibrations in your chest. he is also the most affectionate at night, which gives you something to look forward to at the end of the day.

( O ) OPEN — when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

even to his friends, levi’s past is mostly unknown. he doesn’t like being asked too many questions, especially personal ones, but the key to his padlocked heart is time; eventually, he opens up as easily as if he had never resisted in the first place.

you had always made an effort not to pry too much, so it took you by surprise when one evening, as you held him, stroking his hair, he said something, and then another thing, until the initial shock you felt slipped away and you recognised his words as the secrets that he’d been carrying, keeping close to himself like the blade he learned to use when he was barely in his double digits. he spoke with a characteristic calmness that somehow felt out of place given what he was saying and how long he must have been turning it over on his tongue before this.

it was probably the most vulnerable you have ever seen him, and you still feel a tender pull at your heart when you remember the look on his face. the way that each time he glanced at you, another doubt would fall away because he realised that maybe he was allowed to show his scars to someone other than the cold eyes in his mirror; that even though life is fleeting, denying yourself the chance to at least let someone see you and experience you, the darkest parts of you, all because you might lose them someday, will only make you regret it once they’ve already gone.

( P ) PATIENCE — how easily angered are they?

levi is an orderly and tidy person with a low tolerance for stupidity, but he’s not so easily angered as he is easily annoyed. his patience is immeasurable when it counts, but when it comes to the antics of others, or mildly infuriating things like the sound of someone eating with their mouth open or when something in his desk has been misplaced by a subordinate, it quickly wears thin. he’s not one to snap at people for such things, but that doesn’t mean he won’t grumble and curse or make a harsh retort.

( Q ) QUIZZES — how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?

everything. levi doesn’t want to forget a single thing; any detail or facial feature or moment spent with you. he’ll often say or do things as a result of something you can’t even remember mentioning to him. it warms your heart and makes you want to try your best to do the same in return, just to see the softness of his eyes and that smile he’s not afraid to show you.

( R ) REMEMBER — what is their favourite moment in your relationship?

when you kissed him for the first time. you were shocked to find that levi was not a good kisser; you’re not entirely sure what exactly gave you the inclination that he was at all particularly experienced — the good looks? the fact he’s naturally talented at most things? — but either way, you couldn’t help smiling into the kiss and pulling away to hold back your laughter. he was eager and probably trying his best, but as endearing as it was, he clearly had no idea what he was doing and it wasn’t getting you anywhere.

“care to share what you find so amusing?” he asked, tilting his head in an attempt to look at your face, which you had turned away so he wouldn’t he see your grin.

you regained your composure, but kept the smile on your face. your fingers reached up, drawing an invisible path across his cheekbone and down the side of his face until you were holding his chin. “you’ve never done this before,” you whispered, “have you, levi?”

it stung his pride, of course it did, but he’s not so insecure that he would lie about it. he swallowed. “no, i haven’t,” he admitted, unable to meet your eyes.

the smile on your face grew as you hummed. “i see,” you said, the hand on his chin moving to brush away some hair from his eyes. “i suppose you could do with some practise then?”

levi’s eyes flickered up and at that moment the tension in his shoulders loosened, the weight of his embarrassment lifting from them. “yeah,” he said with a sigh of relief and a bashful smile. “i would like that.”

since then, he’s improved a lot. he’s a quick learner, which you always sort of knew, but it was a pleasant surprise when you found out that he had also memorised and mastered everything that makes you weak in the knees, almost as if to pay you back for making him so flustered back then.

( S ) SECURITY — how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?

it’s almost instinctual how protective levi is of both you and his comrades, doing it without thinking, as if it’s not something he needs to think about. he protects you both implicitly and explicitly; before and during threats to your safety are made.

having you protect him is more of a second priority. he thinks it’s selfish, but he just doesn’t know if he could handle being the reason you get hurt — or worse — but when you are the one protecting him, he trusts you entirely. he knows when you’re overestimating yourself, but he also recognises that you’re capable. regardless of your military standing, he will always see the two of you as equals.

( T ) TRY — how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

the value of levi’s efforts lies in sentimentality; how much he does for you, both when you’re there and when you’re not, and how his talent for remembering everything about you shines brightest when he’s pressing kisses to that spot you love or perfecting the recipe to your favourite meal. gifts aren’t frequent with levi, and anniversary celebrations even less so, but they’re always sweet and meaningful and perfect.

( U ) UGLY — what would be some bad habits of theirs?

aside from the obvious bluntness and toilet humour, levi has a habit of staring at people. he doesn’t mean to be rude or creepy, he just likes to observe (or in your case admire) others. he also has a less frequent habit of cracking his knuckles when he’s stressed or thinking.

( V ) VANITY — how concerned are they with their looks?

appearance has never particularly been an area of interest nor worry to levi. of course, he prefers to take good care of himself rather than be lazy or let himself go, but he does this more for his own comfort than for the approval of others. frankly, he doesn’t care what opinions people have of his looks — but whenever you compliment him, it makes him feel... weird? he doesn’t really know how to react, he’ll just look at you like, “okay, and?” because he’s not used to being called things like cute or pretty or handsome, much less extravagant terms like gorgeous or beautiful. he’s not opposed to it, but he also doesn’t entirely get it.

( W ) WHOLE — would they feel incomplete without you?

yes. as much as levi would like to think he would be fine on his own, he knows he would be lost without you or his comrades. he already feels as though he has lost a lot of himself along the years, but those he has left in his life make healing and filling those gaps with new memories and love much easier.

( X ) XTRA — a random headcanon for them!

he has somewhat messy cursive-like handwriting. since he grew up in the underground city, he never had any formal education and was illiterate for most of his life. it wasn’t until he joined the survey corps that he learned how to read and write thanks to erwin making some arrangements for him. outside of his tutoring, levi did a lot of independent practise, using old books and texts as reference, which made him develop a strange hybrid of neat yet messy and cursive yet not handwriting, due to the differing styles of the modern day compared to bygone eras.

( Y ) YUCK — what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

he doesn’t like arrogance, pretentiousness and when people don’t clean up after themselves, but probably the biggest thing that levi cannot stand in a person is poor hygiene. it evokes such a visceral disgust in him that he can barely keep himself together long enough to spit out whatever obscene or rude insult his mind has supplied him with.

( Z ) ZZZ — what are their sleep habits?

levi tries to maintain a regular sleep schedule, but sometimes he’ll have paperwork that needs to be done before the next day, so he’ll stay up to finish it. he doesn’t really snore or move a lot in his sleep, but if he’s had a particularly tiring day, he’s prone to sleep-talking. he actually sleeps quite peacefully, not counting the occasional nightmare or randomly waking up because of his insomnia. he mostly sleeps on his side and in complete darkness, though he’s able to tolerate dim lighting if you need it.

#divider by benkeibear #levi ackerman headcanons #levi headcanons #levi ackerman fluff #levi fluff #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #x reader #levi ackerman x gn!reader #levi x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #fluff alphabet #{♡} juno writes !!

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐋&𝐃𝐒 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 (𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕)

╰┈➤ ❝ oneshot series | caleb x reader | rafayel x reader | xavier x reader | zayne x reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

general tags : pwp (with plot), afab!reader, softdom!boys, reader deals with negative thoughts and insecurities, hints of anxiety and depression, fluff, mild angst, essentially just gentle comfort smut (but sex is not used as a coping mechanism)

premise : it happened, sometimes. though you could look at life through rose-colored glasses all you wanted, there were still reminders all around you that things won't always go by so perfectly. on some days, the struggle would become harder and harder to ignore... until it's overwhelming. exhausting. fortunately, on days like that, they will always remind you that you aren't alone—and maybe, then, things don't have to be so bad anymore.

alternatively—on your darker days, the love & deepspace boys soothe you through your anxieties.

*** some works are still in progress. wip tags subject to change. ***

Ღ ᴄᴀʟᴇʙ

tags : reader has social anxiety, reader has general insecurities, unwarranted catcalling, caleb gets pretty protective in this, cuddling, kissing, heavy petting, oral (f receiving), praise and reassurance, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, soft and slow sex, but it gets pretty rough towards the end, use of pet names "pipsqueak" "baby" "pretty"

(coming soon)

Ღ ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ

tags : hints of switch!rafayel, reader is hesitant with intimacy, descriptions of self-esteem issues and general insecurities, mentions/implications of toxic relationships, implications of dubcon (not with rafayel), praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, heavy petting, first time sex (with each other) (no virginity loss), masturbation (f), oral (m. receiving), vaginal sex, cowgirl and missionary positions, unprotected sex, creampie, soft sex, use of pet names "cutie" "princess" "baby", references to card "fiery undercurrents"

Ღ xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ

tags : reader has negative thoughts, implications of depression (not explicitly stated/mentioned), implication of self-harm (scars) (not detailed), slight arguing (ish), cuddling, praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, nipple play, slight clit play, fingering, soft and lazy foreplay, use of pet names "angel" "princess"

Ღ ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ

tags : husband!zayne x wife!reader, reader has body insecurities and negative thoughts, kissing, heavy petting, body worship, praise and reassurance, nipple play, clit play, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, soft sex, slight dirty talk, slight cursing, use of pet names "sweetheart" "snowflake"

『 whenever there's a chance, i'll tell you that you're amazing as you are; 'cause when you give me a glance, i'm sure that i see the universe in your eyes. 』

⁺₊ / an : fun facts with roxie time !! i'm currently getting my masters degree in psychology and have had experiences with anxiety and depression in previous years, so this series is a bit special to me! and i hope it can offer a bit of comfort to some of you, too <3 BUT just to clarify! again, sex is not used as a coping mechanism here; any sexual intimacy between reader and the boys in this series is communicated, consensual, and done in a safe environment 🙌 please please practice good communication and coping methods !! 🤍

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

#love and deepspace #love & deepspace #love and deepspace smut #love & deepspace smut #love and deepspace x reader #love & deepspace x reader #love and deepspace caleb #love & deepspace caleb #love and deepspace rafayel #love & deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace xavier #love & deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love & deepspace zayne #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #caleb x reader #caleb smut #rafayel smut #xavier smut #zayne smut #ʚɞ*.ﾟ. lnds #✿˖°. roxiefic #l&ds #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader #divider by hitobaby #divider by benkeibear #divider by cafekitsune

[kissatoru]

★ ₊˚ WEAK FOR YOU

content. college au, dom/sub dynamics, bratty sub!eren, mean to soft dom!reader, gn!reader, dry humping, humiliation, nipple play, degradation, praise, edging, handjob, blowjob

wc. ~6.8k

house parties aren’t really your thing. you’ve been to a few but you quickly discovered that they involve a lot more vomit and interpersonal drama than you have the tolerance for, so you tend to avoid them. you would’ve turned down the invitation for this one too, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was eren jaeger who offered it up to you. that’s why you’re here, at the house of someone who’s a friend of a friend’s friend, at sometime past midnight. you’re leaning against the wall, sipping on a half-empty can of pop.

you finally spot eren, making his way over to you with a grin much too wide for someone who’s late to a party he invited you to. he looks good, dressed in a white tank top that brings out the musculature of his arms and black skinny jeans you’ve only ever seen him wear to parties like this one, since he usually wears sweatpants everywhere else. his hair is half-down and half-up in a bun, not too different from the usual messy man bun he goes for.

once he arrives at your side, beer can in hand, you exchange greetings and small talk, talking about nothing and everything. in the middle of a conversation, some drunk rando throws up by your feet, so you and eren migrate to a different room. on the way though, another person bumps into you and spills their drink down your shirt. it doesn’t help that you were already damp with sweat from how hot and stuffy it is, as well as nauseous from the lingering stench of vomit mixed with alcohol and BO. you meet their eyes with hellfire on your tongue and in any other situation, you would’ve let it loose, but the way they paw at your clothes and slur their apology reminds you that you’re in a house full of clumsy idiots just like them, so you just shrug it off and focus on finding a bathroom to clean up in.

that’s what eren likes about you. you’re down-to-earth and keep to yourself, but don’t let people walk over you and speak out when you need to; you’re not exactly timid, but you’re soft-spoken in a way that suits your voice and nice to people without being overly nice. oh and don’t get him started on your witty humour and the way you play off other people’s jokes so effortlessly; even when you shake your head or roll your eyes or just ignore him after he tells a joke that doesn’t land, he’s buzzing. that’s why he’s been ogling you during your shared lectures, the reason he keeps ‘losing’ his pens and asking to borrow from you, the reason he keeps ‘forgetting’ to give them back, the reason he asked you out to this party! something about you just got eren hooked, to the point that he couldn’t stop thinking about you, to the point he would wake up with a boner almost every morning and jerk off from what he remembered of his dreams about you; to the point those dreams turned into fantasies, imagining what your body looks like under your clothes, what your moans sound like, what faces you’d make.

you, on the other hand, didn’t have any strong feelings toward eren until later. you thought of him as kind of average, if not a little loud and annoying at times, such as when he disrupted class, but in a word, tolerable, and definitely not the worst classmate you’ve ever had. usually, you’d never give a guy like him the time of day unless he actually tried to pursue you (instead of just flirting and joking around aimlessly) but your interest was piqued after your friends passed on to you some rumours about him being a self-proclaimed ‘hardcore dom’. from that point on, you were just as hooked. you became less dismissive and a little more friendly, playing along with his game — long enough so that he’d never see it coming once you finally sunk your claws into him.

that’s why, when you finally find the bathroom, you stop in the doorway, turn to eren in your stained shirt and say, “do you mind helping me clean up?”

the excitement in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed as he answers a nonchalant, “yeah, sure,” and follows you inside. the soft click of the lock has eren’s pulse jumping because he knows exactly where this is going. he knew you had to feel something back, that you couldn’t resist his advances forever. his eyes scan you shamelessly while you pull your top over your head and start wiping your chest down with a towel. he leans against the door and comments, “hey now, you might give a guy the wrong idea taking off your clothes like that,” and that’s what sets everything else into motion.

“yeah?” you say as you step closer. your voice is hushed, lowered, as if to whisper a dirty secret. “how do you know it’s the wrong idea?”

eren falters at your forwardness, but runs a palm over his hair and regains his composure. “i guess i don’t,” he says, not even trying to hide the way he’s staring at your lips. “so, is it?” his dark gaze flicks back up to your eyes. “the wrong idea?”

you smile and make sure to bat your eyelashes extra prettily as you whisper, “why don’t you kiss me and find out?”

his lips are on you as soon as you finish the question and his hands grasp at you while he backs you up against the door. he kisses you feverishly and as impatiently as you’ve been feeling this entire night. you let him kiss along your jaw, down your neck, across your collarbone, but before he can get too carried away, you guide him back to your lips. this time, you take over leadership in the kiss. eren smirks, mistaking it for eagerness, until a skilled tongue slides into his mouth and your hands begin to touch him with confidence and ease. his breath hitches once, twice, and it only spirals from there. he’s gasping and panting in seconds, overwhelmed and barely managing to keep up. slowly but surely, you’re pushing back, and he can feel himself giving in, involuntarily yielding to you like it’s a biological instinct. he doesn’t even realise how bad it is until it’s too late, until his back is pressed against the door and his centre of gravity becomes you, staring at him with a look he’s never seen on your face before.

“you’re real pretty, you know that, right?” you tell him as you tuck some of the loose hair from his bun behind his ear. eren opens his mouth, presumably to bark out a retort at your (what he believes to be) demeaning choice of words, but all that comes out is a quiet moan as your knee rides up between his legs. you take advantage of that and slip your thumb inside, pressing down on his tongue and opening his mouth wider. “so pretty,” you add in a croon, but then he brings his teeth down and bites your thumb. you don’t give him the satisfaction of a pained reaction, settling for a disappointed glare and a tight grip of his jaw. “don’t be a brat now, jaeger. you don’t wanna know what i do to brats.” interestingly, the lump against your knee twitches. you arch an eyebrow. “oh? or maybe you do?”

his eyes are on yours, seemingly stern and rebellious but you know it’s just a ruse; you know begging for mercy when you see it. such eyes suit him, you’ll give him that, but you’d have to be a fool not to take this opportunity, to give him that final nudge, those final few centimetres he needs to be all yours. so you whisper into his ear, the kinds of things he’s used to saying and worse, until he’s flushed and speechless, stuttering over his breaths and holding back whines. it’s almost too easy when you lean down to his neck, and he just lifts his chin and gives it to you, without you even having to ask. you reward him with red kisses and purple lovebites that have the skin beneath your lips thrumming with suppressed moans. it’s such a treat too, how affected he is when you’ve barely even started.

some part of eren is still screaming at him to steal back his dignity and the role he’s made a reputation out of, but his pants are damp and so tight it hurts, it’s really not his fault when he starts grinding against your knee in search of relief. you find it adorable, really, and smirk against his neck as you press your knee forward in an act of pity. a whimper slips from him and he ruts against you faster, more desperately, so desperately. he almost sobs because he was sure your actions would be as cruel as your words, but he’s too caught up in chasing his high to feel relieved or thankful. he focuses only on moving his hips, back and forth, back and forth, and holy shit, is he really about to cum already? in his pants, like some teenager?

he stops his movements, shaking with the effort of keeping still. with clammy hands, he hurries to undo his jeans, but you snatch them away and pin them to the wall. your curled lips indicate that you understand the situation just fine without an explanation, yet you still have the audacity to say, “what’s the matter? don’t you wanna cum?” your tone all flowery and pure as you pick up where he left off, mercilessly rubbing his cock through the fabric.

“no, no, no, fuck,” eren chokes out, even as he betrays himself by meeting your knee halfway, but he just can’t stop! his peak is drawing closer and closer and his downward motions just get harder and faster. it feels so good and he’s so, so close–

“don’t cum yet.”

eren’s first thought is: how the fuck is he supposed to do that? but then his second thought is: why would he listen to you anyway? what authority do you have over him? and yet what comes out of his mouth is, “please–”

“begging so soon?” you say against his lips. “that’s sweet, it really is.” you let go of his wrists and trail your hands down his arms to his chest, then over a nipple experimentally, grinning when you feel it pebble under your light touch. you give it some more attention, circling and rubbing it through the fabric until eren’s hands are clutching your shoulders and he’s curling in on himself trying to escape the foreign sensation. he never thought that part of his body could feel... good?

you suddenly pinch and twist it and eren whines. the pain is sharp, and yet that’s what has his orgasm returning. with only a few more grinds against your knee, it’s hitting him fast, from all angles, and the thing he’s been dreading finally comes true. he soaks his underwear with cum, hot and sticky and disgusting. he moans weakly, digging his blunt fingernails into your shoulders as his head raises up against the door.

you sigh, disappointed. “i didn’t say you could cum.”

eren is standing there, trying to catch his breath and too out of it to respond to you, when you suddenly grab him through his pants. his back arches at the overstimulation and you’re smiling because of course you are as your hand massages over his bulge and the horrid squelching sounds remind him of his shame. he tries to get away from the stimulation, gasping out, “stop, stop, stop!” but when you don’t hear that lovely ‘please’ you only quicken your ministrations.

“you’re such a pervert, eren,” you taunt, soft and sultry, as if you weren’t humiliating him with your words. “cumming in your pants from having your nipples played with? and it’s only been like, what, a minute?”

his cheeks turn pink, his eyebrows knit together, and all he can say is a shaky, “shut up.”

you snicker. “aw, don’t be embarrassed. it’s cute! you’re just like a virgin.”

“i’m not a virgin,” he croaks out, and it’s true, but you pretend to be unconvinced so you can watch him rush to make you believe him while his face blooms a darker shade of pink and his cock hardens at your touch — or maybe your words? either way, you continue palming him until his defiant expression fades, until it’s replaced by parted lips and hooded eyes.

then you pull away, just as he’s starting to buck into your palm. you relish the way he looks at you, so questioning and betrayed. you wish you could see what other faces you can get him to make, but now that you’ve given him a taste, you intend to take it all away. it’s the funnest part of this all; leaving him wanting after planting the seed of what could be into his mind, letting him continue with his life of hook-ups and one-night-stands before he inevitably comes running back to you. it would be so easy now to lose your patience and ravage him like a starved man, sure, but that takes away the fun in taking him apart piece by piece. you’ve come all this way; it would be a shame not to savour it.

“why did you stop?”

there it is, you think, and you can’t help smiling. “you told me to,” you answer as you take a step back. eren stands there, the start of a protest falling from his lips. you don’t wait for him to finish, instead reaching for your shirt and putting it back on.

“hey,” eren scoffs and grabs your arm. “you can’t just leave.” his tone is light-hearted, but you can tell he’s being serious, and that it’s more like a plea rather than the statement it’s phrased as.

“oh, can’t i?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “why not?”

eren looks at you, then his crotch. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this lost for words.

you just laugh through your nose, like he’s told a bad joke. “this is your punishment, eren. you should remember it next time you think about disobeying me.” you wave your hand for him to move, but he lingers, so you give him a pointed look, a silent demand. he steps out of the way and you open the door. “see you in class on monday,” you say over your shoulder before shutting the door behind you.

standing there with his heart still pounding with adrenaline, eren realises that he was right before; your actions are as cruel as your words, crueller even, he just guessed too soon. he should be livid — you’ve left him covered in hickeys, with an aching boner and cum that’s still warm in his pants — but all he can think about is two words: next time. even after days have passed, he doesn’t stop thinking about them. he clings to them like a lifeline, every day and every class with you after that; turning those words over, listening to the echo of your voice in his mind, the way your lips moved around those two bittersweet syllables. he thinks about them for an entire three weeks before they finally come into existence thanks to a class assignment that gets the two of you paired up.

you avoid inviting him over too soon, purposely offering to meet up at cafés and the campus library. at first, they were nothing more than that: just doing actual work for the assignment. but soon enough, you start to tease and distract him; a foot skimming his inner calf one too many times to be an accident, a hand on his thigh that rubs up and down but never more. it’s torture, yet eren feels giddy at the prospect of it leading up to something more, every single time, wondering if this will be the time you go further.

there’s one time he’s sure you will. it starts out innocent, you asking him to get a book that’s too high up for you. as he reaches for it, his shirt lifts up, revealing a strip of his v-line and the waistband of his boxers, how the edge of skin above it is slightly paler, where his tan didn’t reach...

it’s gone as soon as it appears and usually your thoughts would vanish with it — except the aisle happens to be dowsed in shadows from a broken light and the closest person around is on the other side of the library. so instead of your urges slipping away, it’s your self-restraint, and rather than taking the book, you take his wrist. then you pin him to wall and use your other hand to push his lips into yours, all in one fell swoop. the intensity with which you kiss him and the way you have him pressed against the wall brings him back to that night. he kisses back just as passionately, all slippery saliva and clashing teeth. he’s sweating already, hot with the thrill of what else you’re willing to do, how far you’re willing to go in a public place like this. would you touch him? make him cum in his pants? leave him hard?

a hand clutching onto your shirt brings you back to your senses. you pull away and eren tries to chase your lips, but you catch his jaw before he can. he’s still panting from the residual excitement of earlier. his eyes stare at you, puppy-like in the way they speak a silent plea and twinkle with the reflection of the library ceiling lights behind you. you just smile and pet his spit-slick lips with a thumb, the gentle touch distracting him long enough for you to grab the book he’s still holding and step back. “thanks,” you say, gesturing to the book before walking away.

just seconds ago, eren’s mind was racing with thoughts, but as he stares at your retreating back, his only thought is that you really are cruel — and yet it is that thought, and that moment, that replay in his head that very night as he’s roughly pumping his cock and cumming in his underwear, if only to pretend you forced him to, just like back then. he’s pathetic, he knows that, but at the same time, it’s all he can do. he just feels so... he doesn’t even know what to call it, but it has him drooling after everything you do. he’s never felt this way about anyone. he’s only ever slept around with people, too afraid of committment for even friends with benefits or a situationship. he’s not even all that great with friendships, with only two friends he’s been lucky enough to have by his side since childhood, and a few guys he talks to and has lunch with at uni, but never actually hangs out with outside of class. but you? you have something that makes him want to stay, to keep going after you; you’re the reason he hasn’t slept with anyone since the party. he’s tried to, but it’s just not the same. he feels like you’ve ruined him for everyone else. that’s why he has no other choice but to fuck his fist after every meet-up with you, imagining it as your fist while the words you left him with loop in his head.

it isn’t until over halfway through the project that eren’s pining finally reaches its peak with a single message:

let’s work at my place today, usual time

the way it’s not a question does something to him, which is when he realises how pent-up he is. he knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but by the time he reaches your dorm, he’s already half-hard. he wipes his sweaty hands off on his tee and adjusts himself in his sweatpants before knocking on your door. when you open it, you’re in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, legs bare and feet clad in slippers.

“you’re early,” you say as eren strolls inside.

he scoffs. “not on purpose,” he says, hoping you don’t see through his façade (you do). he slides his hands into his pockets and takes a look around your room. various shelves and decoration on your walls, reflecting your interests; memorabilia and clutter on different surfaces and furniture. some clothes thrown over your desk chair, a few plants and books. there’s a scent in the air too, not too strong but prominent and uniquely you.

“when you’re done snooping around my room like a creep,” you call out from your bed, “we should get on with the assignment.” your fingers clack away on your laptop keyboard for a bit before looking at eren. “i know the deadline’s next friday but i’d rather get it done as soon as, y’know?”

eren’s stomach drops. he completely forgot the real reason he was invited here; the innocent reason he was invited here. your tone was casual, gave no indication that you knew, yet as he stands there in front of you, he feels like you’re in his head. do you know the effect you had on him at the party? the effect you continue to have on him? shit, eren thinks, as he clenches and unclenches his fists. he wants to respond, play it off cool and act like he only agreed to come so enthusiastically because he cares about his grades, but his mind is blank.

“cat got your tongue?” you tease, shifting into a position that has you face-on to eren. then you slide to the edge of the bed and lean forward. “why so quiet, jaeger? that’s not like you, your loud mouth usually always has something to say.” those scrutinising eyes scan him from head to toe. slowly. “and where are all the materials anyway? the ones you were meant to bring? for the assignment?”

he feels caught, trapped like prey, and with every few-second flick of your eyes, every purposely chosen word and perfectly timed pause, he feels himself get smaller and smaller.

“don’t tell me,” you start, but with those three words alone, eren already knows his fate has been sealed, “you thought we wouldn’t actually be doing the assignment?” you’re smiling now, the same smile you had in that bathroom three weeks ago as you palmed him through his cum-soaked pants. “what did you think we were going to do, huh? please, tell me...” your eyes narrow into slits and your lips stretch out in a smile, showing off teeth that flash like a predator’s. “i am so curious.”

you’re pushing his buttons, making him feel like the desperate one, and maybe he is, but could you blame him? eren just wants another taste of what you gave him at the party, and most of all, he wants you. he realises that maybe you really did just send that text with the intention of working on the assignment, but there’s no denying that in this moment, that’s not what this is; in this moment, you’re nudging him forward after toying with his sexual frustration, and in this moment, eren decides to put a stop to it.

he stomps forward until he’s looming over you, a sharp scowl twisting his features. “stop playing dumb, (name). you know damn well what you were doing when you sent me that text,” he snarls, sea green eyes stormy and narrowed. “i’m done with these games, alright? if you’re not going to take responsibility for making me like this, then– then i will.” he almost falters from the weight of your eyes, the way they just sit there, waiting and unfazed, but he steels his composure. “you’re just a brat anyway,” he says, leaning in. “all you really want is for someone to put you back in your place.”

that smile hasn’t left; hasn’t so much as twitched. in the position you’re in, you’re looking up at him, but the way you’re doing it makes it feel as though eren is the one looking up, the one being looked down on. “well... you’re right about me knowing what i was doing,” you admit, “but the rest? not so much. not for me, anyway.” you trace the collar of eren’s t-shirt with your fingertips, drag your palm down his chest...

you suddenly bunch up the fabric and yank it with a tight fist. your other hand catches eren’s shoulder and keeps him steady as his palms land on either side of you, knees bent and head in the crook of your neck. “come now, jaeger. do you really think i’m the brat in this situation?” you say softly, your breath warm and your lips featherlight as they graze his ear lobe. “put me back in my place?” you giggle quietly and it reverberates through eren’s skull like a thunder clap. “does that really sound like something you want to do to me?” he can feel the way you smile against the shell of his ear, the wetness of your teeth. “or is that just the only way you know how to ask for something to be done to you?”

eren is hidden in your neck yet he feels completely exposed. he wants to mask the way your words make his breathing stutter, but when you’re this close, even he knows it’s no use. all he can do is stay right where he is, frozen in a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation.

you shove eren back and he crumbles to the floor on all fours. “that’s more like it.” you tilt your head at him as he sits up on his knees. “doesn’t this feel so much better?”

eren doesn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but it does feel better. his gaze drops to his lap in shame but that’s where he sees the even more shameful bulge that’s formed between his legs. he instinctually covers it up, but he’s too late, and his attempt at hiding it only confirms what you already know. you reach over and angle his head up by his chin. you have an unimpressed expression on your face, but your eyes contrast it with their fiery intrigue. “wow, eren,” you say through an amused sigh as you lean in close to his face. “are you seriously hard right now?”

he swallows nervously and presses his thighs together. his breathing is already faltering in his chest, but he tries to keep it steady as he replies, “you can’t blame me. you’ve been teasing me ever since you left me at the party. just like this.”

a hand yanks his head back by his hair and eren is unable to stop the moan that escapes him. he chews on his lip as you sneer down at him. “being left like that was exactly what you deserved,” you mutter, then you raise your eyebrows, feigning a contemplative expression, “but maybe another, harsher punishment is what you need to learn your lesson, hm?”

eren’s dick twitches and he would’ve nodded too, if he didn’t register at the last minute that punishments aren’t meant to be enjoyed.

you catch it anyway, and scoff. “of course, you’d like that, you fucking whore.” you let go of his hair and lean back. eren stares at you, confused, until you pat your lap. “sit,” you tell him. your posture is relaxed, in contrast to his, which tenses as he straddles your lap, resting his hands on your shoulders. your eyes widen and you smile incredulously. “i guess leaving you like that wasn’t entirely useless, huh?” you laugh to yourself and massage along his hips and thighs before finally tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down, slowly, along with his underwear. a shudder runs down eren’s spine at the touch of cool air on his skin. his hard cock bumps against his abdomen, leaving behind a shiny smudge of precum. you tap his wet tip and draw circles around it, making eren hiss and briefly dig his nails into your shoulders.

“don’t–” he stops himself when you glance up at him.

your eyebrows raise. “what was that?” you ask, but he just swallows and remains silent. “use your manners, baby. you’ve done it once before, so i know you can.” your other hand snakes under his t-shirt and caresses his side. “don’t get shy now. if you’re cute enough, i might give you a reward.”

eren shifts in your lap. there’s a pause. then, “please.”

you chuckle. “come on, ‘ren,” you say, “you can do better than that.”

he looks exasperated, but tries again anyway. “please,” he repeats. “please just– just touch me. please.”

he makes it too easy to tease him, you think, as you grin wickedly. “but i’m touching you right now, aren’t i?”

eren groans. “yes but– you’re not–” he jumps as you dip your nail gently into his slit. “fuck, just put your hand around my cock please.”

you surprise him by doing exactly that, a loud moan being torn out of him. your grip is tight as you drag your fingers down his length, spreading his precum. with how pent up he’s been, eren feels like he’s close already. his body tingles with pleasure and anticipation. it’s almost too much, yet not enough, the way you slide your hand up then down, up then down, steady and unrushed. just as eren is about to ask you to go faster, you rotate your hand over his leaking tip and he chokes on his words. you do it again, and again, before returning to your previous motions. you repeat this, changing your pace a few times, just to watch him squirm, before resuming your steady pumping. eren begins to wonder if you’re waiting for him to beg more, if you’ll just keep doing this until he asks you to go faster, but the next time you change your pace, it’s fast and doesn’t stop, just goes even faster. eren stumbles over his breaths. he’s relieved, but at the same time it’s too fast. “fuck, slo– slow down,” he says in a strangled voice. he is hurtling toward his orgasm, he’s definitely not going to last. shit, how were you able to go so fast and hard at the same time? it felt like he was on fire. he’s so–

you stop.

a single meek drop of precum trickles down eren’s dick.

“no–” he groans. “what the fuck? why did– why didn’t you–”

“did you forget already?” you interrupt, grinning from ear to ear. eren’s lips remain pursed in frustration. “this is your punishment, remember?”

a range of emotions pass over eren’s face: realisation, horror, anger, desperation, self-pity. you watch his inner conflict set aflame, how he looks down at his aching dick, how his fingers twitch and one hand even goes as far as to dip down to try and touch himself, but you grab it and place it back around your neck. “only i get to touch you, and only i will decide when you get to cum,” you tell him and eren curses under his breath but stays put. from there, you go back to touching him. you bring him to the edge, over and over, abusing your knowledge of all his weak spots, squeezing and rubbing and pumping vigourously for what must be at least eight times; until his speech is slurred and his pleas are barely intelligible.

when you let go for the final time, you hear him sniffle against your neck.

“that bad, huh?” you mumble, mostly to yourself. you slip your hands beneath his shirt and trace the smooth plains of his torso, up and down, feeling the muscles ripple and writhe from the barely-there touch. “okay,” you say, “you’ve been good, so i’ll reward you now.” his hips jut out violently and grind against your stomach. you grab his drenched cock and suck your teeth in disapproval. “don’t ruin it by getting too greedy now, eren.”

he stares at you, turquoise irises engulfed in black pupils, and licks his lips. “what’s my reward?”

you just smile. “you’ll find out soon enough,” you answer. you pull up his waistband and snap it against his sensitive cock, making him yelp. “first, i want you to get up and take off your clothes.”

eren is eager and obeys quickly, making a show of it as he does; flexing his muscles a little more than necessary, his movements slow and sensual and tempting because that’s just how he’s done this every time before this. but the sooner that usual ego of his rises, the sooner it falls, because once he’s down to his last item of clothing — his boxers — he just stands there like he doesn’t know what to do next. he does, of course, but he’s feeling what seems like dread at the idea of being completely naked in front of you. not because he’s insecure, but the fact that it’s you he’s showing it to; you with your fox grins and cruel, humiliating words, your rough treatment and watchful eyes... fuck, just the thought is making him harder, and then even harder as he wonders if you can see it. will you point it out? will you make fun of him? call him names?

eren jumps when you graze his crotch with the end of your foot. “having second thoughts?” you say, teasing but serious all the same.

“no,” he says without hesitating.

“then go on.” you lift your foot and eren tenses in anticipation, but you just grin wider and point to the head of his dick, peering out slightly from his boxers, without touching it. “don’t keep me waiting.”

he slides the waistband down his thighs and lets it drop to his feet, then steps out and tosses the garment aside. you’re still fully clothed and relaxed while you look him up and down. eren slides a hand over the top of his hair, pushing away the fallen strands. he thought he felt exposed earlier, but now it’s even worse. your eyes are practically devouring him, but you can’t help it. the way he’s standing there, completely nude while you aren’t, waiting for your next command while staring at you with those dark aqua eyes from under pretty dark eyelashes. no number of late-night fantasising would do this sight justice, yet you wonder if you can make it even better. you wonder if you can push him just a little bit further, see how much more you can bend him before he breaks.

“you look nervous, eren,” you say. “are you sure you–”

“yes! yes, i’m sure,” he all but gasps out.

you arch an eyebrow at his interruption. “i was going to say are you sure you want this? are you sure you want me?” you clarify. “for all i know, you’re just a slut who’ll pounce on anyone. how do i know i’m not just a set of holes to you, hm?”

eren frowns. “no, that’s not–” he steps closer to you and sinks to his knees in front of you. “i only want you, (name). no one...” his cheeks flush hot and he looks away from your eyes. “no one else could fuck me as good as you.”

it’s not the entire truth and you know that. you’ve always been good at reading people. though eren may be better than the average person at lying, around you? all of that depletes and he becomes an open book. “and how would you know that?” you say as you lean back on your palms.

“i don’t,” eren says as he places his hands on your knees, “but maybe you can show me?”

it’s pathetic yet so beautiful to see a man like eren jaeger like this: on his knees and at your disposal. it’s almost a shame you couldn’t get here sooner, but you’ve always believed in delayed gratification, in trusting the process and the like; that’s why you adore men like him, who’ve only ever been doms and have never even considered anything else. it’s so much fun to string them along, allow them to unknowingly fall into a false sense of security, to make them think you’re just another obedient little sub, and how once you’ve built that up enough, breaking them is all the sweeter.

the shift of you leaning forward makes eren sit up. he’s not sure what he’s expecting, but you gently petting his hair definitely isn’t it. he melts, dropping his head and resting his cheek against your knee, just like you thought he would. after all, you noticed that pushing back loose hair is a nervous tic of his, and so naturally this kind of touch comforts him. you smile fondly at that.

the tender moment is broken by eren humping your leg. you’re not sure if he even realises he’s doing it. his eyes are shut and he’s whimpering like a dog. the grasp he has around your knees tightens. “eren,” you say to him and he seems to regain some awareness, stopping his movement and looking up at you. “would you like your reward?”

he breathes out like he’s been holding it. “please.”

you pat the space behind you. “come lay down.”

he does so and you wait for him to get comfortable before perching yourself on his lap. you begin by sliding your hands up his torso and back down again, tracing the dips and curves of his body. you litter kisses from his neck to his collarbone and chest. your breath ghosts over a nipple and eren shivers. you take a second to smile before flicking your tongue over the dark pink bud. his chest raises off the bed and into your mouth as you latch onto the nub and swirl your tongue around it. your hand makes work of his other nipple and eren’s hips buck into you. a string of spit forms and snaps as you pull away and resume your path down his torso, pecking down his belly, hip and finally, his inner thigh. you feel eren squirm as your cool breaths hit his drooling cock. you flatten your tongue and lick up from the base, kissing the tip wetly before taking it into your mouth and sucking hard. eren throws his head back and moans, fallen strands fanning out against the pillows. his hips are restless, so you hold them down while you slide down to the base, then back up to suck on the tip again. your motions are smooth, aided by saliva and precum, as you begin to bob your head up and down his length.

eren’s fingers find your hair and cling there. you break away to mutter a cautionary, “easy,” then swallow down his cock again, moving quicker now. with how you’ve been teasing and edging him, you suspect that he’ll cum soon. his sounds get higher and louder, more frequent, and every so often the hands on your head flinch or scratch or curl.

“i’m close, i’m close,” eren warns through laboured breaths. his skin is damp with sweat, long strands sticking to his forehead in curled shapes. “please le– let me cum.”

you answer him by not stopping, by using your hand to pump the bottom half of his cock while continuing to suck on the rest with hollowed cheeks and wet lips.

“fuck, m’gonna c– ah! fuck, please let– please!” his back arches, sheets peeling off his skin before he collapses again, abdomen contracting. “please say i can–” his nails dig into your scalp as he moans, drawn out and loud. hot fluid fills up your mouth and throat. you swallow and don’t cease moving until eren is pawing at your face and mumbling about how it’s too much. afterwards, unable to hold back your teasing nature, you give a few kitten licks to his reddened tip, enjoying how it makes him whine and jolt.

“i take it you liked your reward then?” you say, pushing away the stringy hair around his cheeks and forehead.

“yeah,” eren pants, and as he’s lying there, all blissed out and in the process of winding down from his high, you’re gazing down at him in a way he’s only been able to dream of until now and he realises that sure, blowjobs aren’t anything special or revolutionary, but everything leading up to it is what made it so amazing, you are what made it so amazing. you’re everything he didn’t know he wanted, the key that unlocked his hidden desires, and even if you were to leave him hard and aching for your touch again, even if you teased him to no end and laughed at him and called him names, he’d still come back if you gave him the chance because he loves it. he loves you.

you lean in and kiss eren; delicately, kindly, with care and a gentle want, a peaceful want reserved for lovers, because somewhere along the way you started to develop feelings for him. eren had only hoped for such a thing, thought that it was wishful thinking and delusion that gave him the impression you might feel the same way. maybe you didn’t at the beginning; maybe it started out as just lust, but right now you love him and he loves you. the lust is still there, but it’s soft now, and so much more than it was.

notes. couldn’t help making it soft at the end! i’ve reread this so many times i genuinely have no idea if it’s good but i hope you enjoyed it<3

#drops this and runs away #divider by benkeibear #x reader #x dom reader #dom reader #dom!reader #sub eren #sub character #eren x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #snk smut #sub aot #aot x reader smut #( ★ ) my stuff.

[bakubunny]

when everything hurts too much, curling up in shota's arms is like going home. you can never describe it, the way being with one person can make all of the pain seem to dull for a little while, but it does. he doesn't wipe your tears. he doesn't offer consoling words. doesn't try to fix anything at all because that's never what you're asking for. no, shota holds you as a hand runs through your hair. he lets your tears run dry, places a kiss on the top of your head. he stays with you in silence, sits with you in the discomfort of pain because, stoic as he might be, he understands that sometimes, that's all you really need.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa shota #aizawa x reader #bnha x reader #x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #boku no hero #bakubunny #divider by benkeibear #aizawa comfort #bnha comfort #x reader comfort

[jaysgirlx]

❝ 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 ❞

❥ pairing: dick grayson x civilian f!reader (part 2 of a series)

❥ summary: dick has to find you after all he put you through you don't deserve what your ex is doing to you.

❥ warnings: moreee angst, fighting, acts of violence, many mentions of depression, anxiety and thoughts of death

❥ wc: 3.8k

"I think the best plan here may be to pay the price, Grayson," says Damian walking into the Batcave, nearly dragging a half-awake Tim.

"That's just dumb, for all we know he'll just use the money to take her away with him. Steph and I will get her back. This guy is clearly a coward" Cass says in an annoyed tone while leaning on Duke who kept quiet.

"What if he has used his own money to hire people to fight us, he can't be that sure that we would actually pay the price," Bruce says interrupting the conversation. "And I do mean "we", y/n is practically family Dick if you decide you want me to pay the ransom we will"

"That's quite a lot of money to risk Bruce," says Barbara "Cass may be right, he might just take her away once he gets the money"

"Stop it you guys, just let me think!" Dick nearly screamed, trying to hold himself together. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see that it was Jason, "I know you're not exactly happy with me right now. But out of all of us, we need to be strong Dick. In a situation like this, we need you as our leader"

Dick didn't know how to feel, of course he needed to be the leader but he couldn't even manage to be a good boyfriend to you. Could he even save you? Were you still even alive? The blood on that envelope had been dried for fucks sake. And Steph had told him she hadn't seen you in 2 months, not since you moved back into your place.

No wonder he couldn't track you, you had been kidnapped for 2 goddamn months, and was his fault. He fucked up and left you alone to heal, he didn't realize how stupid of an idea that was. But for now, he needed to let go of that, he needed to find you and rescue you.

"We're not paying the ransom, even if y/n is still alive…he'll most likely take her with him," Dick says, causing everyone to stop their chatter. "Babs I need you to try and locate them, I know it may be a lost cause but it is our only bet"

He pauses for a second formulating a plan. You had been kidnapped for an estimate of 2 months now and if you were still alive, that meant your ex was still here. Which means he needed money.

"Tim, could you do a background check on y/n's ex? Find out his patterns, if he doesn't get money from me he'll definitely be looking for other ways to obtain some" Tim who was half awake, nodded and opened up his laptop to work alongside Barbara. Dick kept silent for a while before asking the rest of them to try checking abandoned warehouses, or any other places they possibly thought you could be.

Bruce tried talking to Dick but he tuned him out. Over the years he learned how to pick out the bits and pieces Bruce wanted him to hear and ignore the rest but right now he was tuning him out completely. The thought of you being dead made him sick, things weren't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to protect you, he loved you that's all there was to it. He felt a hand on his shoulder and it was Jason. He didn't say anything and that's exactly what Dick needed. He needed a moment to breath and just think.

He knew you ex was crazy but he didn't really know anything else about him. He didn't know if maybe there was a past of crimes he overlooked or maybe your ex was even the man he claimed to be. For fucks sake, he wished he had listen to you more when you talked, when you had practically begged him to. He thought that he was doing you a favor but all he did was put you in danger.

He could only hope that you would forgive him.

It was cold and empty. The air felt harsh to breathe and you never felt so dead. You weren't sure if something was holding you down or if you just couldn't move.

Everything hurt.

There where flickering screens in the background while soft hum got louder and louder. You could barely make out what was happening around you and maybe you didn't even want to know. Your eyes searched the room, you were in a bed covered by what seemed to be a blanket. You were tied down, your body was just weak. Where were you? What time was it? When was the last time you had eaten food? Were you dying?

The flickering screens finally caught your attention and there you saw him standing in front of a bunch of TVs, your ex-boyfriend and all your memories came flooding back. He kidnapped you...how long ago was that? And where were you? Your mind could only think of one person: Dick Grayson. You meant it when you told him, you couldn't be with him any longer but that didn't mean you didn't still love him. You'd be crazy not to when you and Dick had met you not he was some flirty playboy who flirted with every girl until he showed you otherwise. After dumping your crazy ex and going to Divk for comfort, you realized how caring he could be. So you entered a relationship with him with high expectations that he'd always treat you so well and everything between you to have been perfect.

Then he'd started cancelling plans last minute and you knew something was up. Dick didn't like secrets and it was the biggest surprise when he confided in you that he was Nightwing. You were obviously worried, worried one night he wouldn't come home but you accepted him because you loved Dick Grayson, not Nightwing. You met Jason soon after and the two of you hit it off, Dick wasn't fond of the friendship but Jason didn't mind looking after you. Jason saw you like family. Yes, he was dangerous but he knew it would break Dick's heart if anything ever happened to you.

A quiet sob fell from your lips while you thought about Dick. You hadn't even realized your eyes were filled with tears and that your fingernails were digging into your palms. You wanted to cry and shout, but you knew that was dumb. You didn't know if anyone was coming to save you but that didn't mean you wouldn't try and keep yourself alive.

While you tried you calm yourself down, you saw a black figure walking over towards you. You knew it was Roman so you closed your eyes.

Pretend to be asleep.

He won't notice.

You steadied your breaths and allowed them to fall into a pattern while his steps grew heavier and closer. His hand gently stroked your face, making you mentally gag. "You used to be sooooo perfect for me...but then you put your nose where it didn't belong" You felt something cold and thin press across your face. A blade. If you hadn't been scared before you definitely were now.

The fear inside you wasn't just from the blade but more of what he was going to do with you after. You know he isn't going to kill you because he would've done that by now but no possible way he wants to stay in Gotham. Were you still even in Gotham? There were still so many unanswered questions, but all I knew was that this room was decorated with old TVs that it seemed that Roman had been using. Still, all that didn't matter, staying alive and staying put did. If there was any chance you were in Gotham and anybody was looking for you, all you had to do was just hold out a bit longer. Dick would come for you, if anybody would, it had to be him.

The cold feeling of the blade eventually left your face and after a couple sentences of mumbling and mutters, those heavy footsteps finally walked away and slammed a door behind him. A opened your eyes and your breaths became more frantic, you knew for sure now that you were alive and that you could handle this. Small bits of pieces of what you had experienced here popped into your head but you shoved it back down. Now wasn't the time. You need to calm down and think. For all you know staying put may not work. You wanted to still be angry with me but how could you be when all you wanted was to be in his arms again. You need to see him again, even if it's just to hug him.

You needed to see Dick one last time because you were still so hopelessly in love with him.

Dick is standing in front of your favorite cafe. It was on the verge of closing and he could never understand what appeal you found in it. You said the coffee was really good especially when you put a bunch of sugar in it but didn't that apply to most coffee? For a brief moment, he smiled at the thought of maybe being able to share coffee with you like that. Just one last time, if you'd still have him.

Dick had always been fascinated by you. You were so accepting of him and his family and there was never a moment where he doubted your love. He never meant to accuse you of cheating, if he could take it back he would. If he could re-do that entire night over, he'd do it properly. He'd apologize for canceling your date and explain to you how he had been feeling for your safety. He shouldn't even have let you go that night, he should have told you the truth.

For the last month, while Tim and Barbara endlessly searched Gotham's cameras CCTV, and public records the rest of the siblings spent their free time tearing through every abandoned warehouse in hopes of finding you but they failed every single time. Every day Dick contemplated paying the ransom and risking losing you if you weren't already gone. He needed you back and he wasn't the only one worried about you.

Your parents were worried sick, all they know is that you were kidnapped but it still hurts them. Your relationship with them may not have been the greatest but that didn't mean they wanted to lose you completely. They never liked Dick, they tried to be supportive but Dick once showed up. He knows now how badly he mistreated, how much he fucked up. All you did was love and care for him and he let you down time and time again but wouldn't this time. He was going to find you and never leave your side again.

He left the cafe and went towards the phone store nearby. Dick had bought you your latest phone but never got around to connecting it to Barbara's location system which tracks all of them including Bruce. Which meant he had to go to that store and see if they could track it using the information when it was bought. He even managed to find the box it came in in your apartment.

He was able to find out that your phone was either dead or broken because it was disconnected. He thought he had reached another dead end until the cashier said its last location was tracked which was supposedly a play near Gotham's most popular TV company's buildings. The only abandoned one is the former headquarters but just getting into there is difficult, there is no way you'd be there and no one knew right?

He left with that thought on his mind and a cup of disgusting coffee full of sugar.

The quiet hum of the computers and the small chat between his sibling filled the room while Dick tried to eat his dinner. He picked at the fried rice Jason had picked up for him and the rest of his family. All it did was remind him of you and the way you always wanted to order out instead of eat something home cooked. It wasn't cause you were bad at cooking but more because you loved trying new foods every once in a while. Dick bit down on his tongue hard, tasting a cold metallic taste that barely brought him back to reality.

It had been nearly a month since you had gone missing. Daimen thought you were dead. Cass and Steph kept going through your apartment, looking for something to stop them from giving up. Jason was silent. Bruce was angry, he saw you as the perfect fit for Dick. He had never seen his son happier. Babs knows you're a survivor, you wouldn't die on her like that.

"Dick, snap out of it", Barbara said slowly reeling him back into reality. You and her had always gotten along so well, especially after Barbara got shot, you were there for her like a sister. That when he knew, that's exactly when Dick knew he was in love with you and couldn't handle watching people he cared about in pain. "Tim and I found some stuff...we have good news and bad news"

"Just tell me" He grunted out, whatever it was he could handle it, as long as there was a chance you were alive. You had to be alive, you still loved him and he had so many apologies to give you once he had you back into his arms again.

"Once I hacked the CCTV of y/n's apartment I was able to get a couple of photos of this "Roman Jennings" guy and I had Tim cross-reference them with what we knew already knew about him.." she paused as if what she said next could break Dick "This guy doesn't exist in Gotham. Not only do no records tie to him...there's no information on him anywhere"

Dick knew that most of Roman's murders had been made look like suicides and hadn't been caught but he hadn't realized that maybe "Roman Jennings" doesn't exist and that they might've been following a false lead the entire time. How could he waste a month on this? What if she's really dead-

Calm down, Grayson.

Worrying will get you nowhere.

"I'm guessing that's the bad news?"

"Yup, the good news is that, on the cameras near that abandoned TV company's old headquarters, I found the same guy leaving and entering the building every day for the last 6 weeks. I'm not completely sure but I think that's our guy" Dick was sure he heard her completely but that didn't matter. Your phone had last been located in that area and it was the only lead they had. He knew you didn't have much time and there was no way he was just going to sit here and wait.

"I'm going to check it out, Babs sends me the coordinates," Dick said as he put down the food on the counter. The silence that was surrounding him, should've been a sign that for the words that come next but Dick just couldn't think about all that right now. He needed to get to you, bring you home. Bruce felt a need to interject but he felt that it wasn't his place. But Jason had no problem with interfering especially in this situation, "Y'know you're not going in alone right? And definitely not without a plan"

Jason grabbed onto Dick's arm, roughly pulling him away from the door. The tension between them had never been resolved, no matter how many times Jason tried to make it clear that he never had any romantic feelings for you. Jason saw you as family and tried to be there for you especially since most of the time you got upset because of Dick. Bruce was ready to step in now, seeing as Dick was now angry, stressed, and running on practically no sleep. Dick rips his hand away in anger and pushes Jason, "Jason I really don't need your opinion on this, y/n has been trapped for almost 3 fucking months now. If I don't go right now, she could die"

"If you go in alone and angry, you might just be the reason she dies. Do not fuck this up for the rest of us" It hadn't really occurred to Dick that maybe this wasn't just about him and that the rest of the family had cared about you. Dick had always seen Jason as a wedge between the two of you but he never really thought he actually cared. He thought Jason just did it to mess with him. Before Dick could even respond, Steph spoke up, "She's our family too Dick, we all want her home but we have to do this right"

"Y'know she's the only one, I can talk to about menial matters," Damian says quietly, "She made it easy to just talk about those small things even the stupid ones" Maybe the stress of the situation had caused him to forget how much of positive impact you had on his family and how much this was affecting them. "Look I'm sorry guys I just…

"Want her back?" Bruce says looking over at him "we all do, so just give us a couple more hours to plan how we're getting inside and what we will do?"

Duke who had been quite quiet finally speaks up, "I think you should rest Dick. If you're going to be the one to get her out of there you need rest. Proper rest"

"I second that!!" Cass says, appearing from behind Duke. All Dick could do was nod, he was tired and stressed and just needed a little bit of sleep. He left with a weak smile and found of the guest rooms in the manor. Once he hit the best he was out like a light. That night he dreamt of you, your smile, your cute hobbies, your contagious laughter, and more. While he slept he dreamt of you, kissing you, loving you and even marrying you. Dick Grayson was utterly in love with you and couldn't wait any longer for you to come home to him.

The next morning after that was stressful, to say the least. Barbara and Tim had calculated the best time to infiltrate the headquarters when Roman wasn't there. Except that was during daytime which meant no Nightwing. Attracting attention could only get more people hurt and Dick wasn't going to risk it. Jason, Cass, and Steph agreed to come along while Damian was on standby with Duke and Bruce. Tim and Barbara would be feeding Dick information through an earpiece and would be doing the same for everyone else.

Their plan wasn't perfect but it was the best they had. Dick would in with Steph, while Jason and Cass stayed outside to not only stop Roman from entering but also catch him. Jason and Cass had no problem being ruthless if they had to be but since there was still light out they would have to keep a low profile. Officer Gordon borrowed them police uniforms which they hoped would be enough to scare Roman away if he even sees them. If not, they were ready to fight if it came to that.

Dick and Steph quietly entered the abandoned building, they went through a back door Tim was able to locate after finding the building's original floor pans. The entire building was very old and quite huge so, Tim mapped out the building for them so it would be easier for you to be found. If you were even in there. Inside the building was extremely cold but it didn't seem abandoned. It actually looked like a home. Which was a good sign, it confirmed someone was staying here. It meant there was a chance you were here. "Did she talk about me?" Dick asked Steph, trying to break the harsh silence. The two hadn't spoken up since the two of you had broken up. Steph didn't take sides but she wasn't exactly happy to hear how Dick was treating you and behaving.

"Depends, what are you willing to hear"

"Anything at this point"

Steph was quiet for a while, the two of you had searched through about 2 offices and 4 other open spaces and nothing had come out of her mouth. Dick was just about to let it go just before Steph finally spoke up, "She hated loving you. Not in a bad way, just in a way that made her miserable but feel ungrateful. She thought that she was difficult to love especially since you had been the one to approach her. She hated fighting with you but she hated the thought of her not being enough more"

Dick knew he had fucked up at every turn of your relationship but he hadn't realized how much that really had affected you. how much damage he did. In his mind he was just hurting himself but this whole time you had been the one suffering. "We all have underlying issues Dick so not everything that went wrong was on you and believe me y/n really loved you. After she'd been done ranting, she'd always think of how happy you made her and how sweet you were to her when you actually showed up. There's no doubt she would have married you"

"Would have?"

"You accused her of cheating Dick, she loved you endlessly and you just threw it in her face," Steph said after checking another room that was once again empty. "You hurt her in a way that shouldn't be forgiven and you'd be very lucky if she did forgive you"

"I know, I know! I would do anything to take back what I said to her, what I did to her. Do you know what I would give to be able to restart our entire relationship from the beginning? Do you know what I would give to open this next door and believe she's in it?" Dick kicked open the door in anger, the room was filled with lit-up TVs that seemed to be surveilling the abandoned building and parts of Gotham.

Dick wasn't sure if was he hallucinating from all the anger, stress, and need but there you were in what seemed to be an air mattress with a blanket and a book. You looked weak, like you hadn't eaten much but you seemed okay? Like you weren't hurt physically because Dick knew the deepest scars were always mental.

"y/n?"

Your name barely left his lips but it was just loud enough for you to hear. You turn to look at him and first he can see the surprise on your face and the relief but that quickly changes to a soft smile. A smile that could break his heart and fix it in an instant. A smile that he hopelessly missed. Dick never stopped loving you and he could only hope you still loved him and maybe, just maybe in that moment that's all that matters.

❥ taglist: @meowkn, @kazzattack @chichinaylo, @yourlocalcringydaydreamer, @orchidsangel, @nia-jul, @mayfieldss, @millyhelp

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