#//Otherwise just take it as a peek into what he's doing and how his mood is like lol

[alastors-radioshow]

"Can't you see that you're lost?.."

The voice was quiet, elbows supported against the metal railing. Crimson orbs gazing out into the darkness, the star speckled sky. The pale moon illuminating his slender form.

"Can't you see that you're lost without me~?"

A low, static-y chuckle followed, one hand reaching up to slowly comb through fiery locks, those piercing orbs of his seeking out the constellations above.

"Catchy~"

[cybersunnie]

operation mistletoe

With a mistletoe, RAFE CAMERON can do just about anything.

includes fem!reader / soft!rafe / fluff / established relationship / brief conflict / petnames ("baby") / safe for minors to read! / wc 951

When you came home from work tired and in a pissy mood, all you wanted was some peace and quiet. 

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, had different plans. 

Rafe thought attacking you with tickles would be a good way to greet you. He had done it before. You laughed, the sound shrill and bouncing off the walls. And he got a laugh out of it, too. No harm, no foul. What could go wrong this time? Especially since it was the holiday season—all cheer and festive?

Everything, apparently. 

You knew he had good intentions when he pounced on you the moment you stepped inside, his fingers tickling your sides. But instead of letting out a chorus of laughter, you snapped at him. You could tell he was caught off guard, the grin on his face faltering as you told him to stop and muttered how annoying he was under your breath. The hurt that flashed across his face stung, but you didn’t take it back. You wished you had, though. 

Now, you were curled up on your bed.

Neither of you had spoken a word to each other after that, not even a glance, and you were sure it was killing him as much as it was killing you. Sure, it had only been ten minutes, but underneath all your anger was someone who just wanted her boyfriend.

You felt the bed dip behind you. Rafe cleared his throat.

“Baby?” 

You stared hard at the wall. It was nice to hear his voice. “What?”

As he moved closer, you felt the space between you shrink, the warmth of his body engulfing yours. Every part of you wanted to fall into him, into his embrace. Maybe you should.

“Look at me.”

“No,” you mumbled, not bothering to turn your head. The wall was more interesting to look at.

You heard Rafe fail to stifle his scoff. He was probably clenching his jaw, too. You were aware that you were being unreasonably stubborn. But you knew, for you, he would be patient—at least, he would try to be patient. Always.

“Don’t be like that,” he spoke gently. “C’mon, my arm’s gonna get tired.”

Good. You hoped his arm got tired. 

Wait, why would his arm get tired? What was he doing?

A frown formed on your face, and your ever-growing curiosity made you roll over.

You didn’t see anything out of the ordinary at first. But then your gaze followed up his raised arm, and you saw that he was holding a mistletoe above the two of you. Where did he—? Your eyes darted to the doorway of your bedroom. The mistletoe you had hung there weeks ago was gone. 

Oh, this motherfucker. He was clever, you would give him that.

With raised brows, he shook the mistletoe. “Y’know what that means.”

“Rafe,” you groaned, running your hands over your face.

“We have to kiss.”

You splayed your fingers to peek at him and saw his face was closer than before. For a split second, your mouth curved into a smile. You were in love with an idiot. 

“We don’t have to.”

He smirked. “Tradition says otherwise.” 

That made you sigh. He wasn’t going to give up, was he? 

Your hands dropped from your face, and you glanced at the mistletoe. It was just there, taunting you. Kiss, kiss, kiss! Still, you didn’t move. But Rafe inched closer, and you watched how his gaze skimmed over your features. He looked at you like you were everything he wanted and more. You were made for me, his eyes screamed. 

Your stubborn act buffered. You couldn’t resist any longer. You leaned in, too, your cheeks on fire.

He exhaled, almost like he was relieved you had relented, and locked his lips with yours. You had kissed him countless times before, yet he still had you burning as if it was your first. His free hand slipped to cup your jaw, his mouth moving with yours, communicating to you in a language only you two understood. This was more than just your boyfriend stealing a kiss from you while you were mad at him.

You were the first to part, your lips brushing his for one last taste before reeling away. When your eyes fluttered open, any lingering irritation there was gone.

Rafe lowered his raised arm, letting go of the mistletoe to hold your face. His nose bumped into yours as if he were going in for another, but he held back, sucking in a breath.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he muttered, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Really.”

You shook your head. 

“No, I’m sorry. I was in a bad mood, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” you said, your voice sweet and smooth like honey. “You’re not annoying.”

He squinted just the tiniest bit. “Nah, I can be pretty annoying.”

You gaped at him as if he had insulted you. It felt like he did. How dare he doubt your words. 

“That’s not true,” you insisted, wrapping your fingers around his wrist.

Seemingly unconvinced, Rafe hummed and tilted his head forward until his forehead touched yours. He had to be fishing for compliments. Then you saw his lips twitch as he fought back a grin. That told you enough. He was definitely fishing for compliments.

You narrowed your eyes. “You trying to pick a fight with me?”

“Fuck, no,” he breathed out, laughing.

And then Rafe kissed you again, a hand cradling the back of your head, and your lips melted against his. He moved to hover above you, his body caging you in, and chuckled into your mouth. You did the same. 

This was the peace and quiet you needed.

sunnie speaks! happy holidays my sweethearts! i had sm fun writing and i hope you enjoyed reading!!! 🎄🩵 let's chat about rafe cameron!

if you like my work, consider following @sunniefics to stay up to date on all my future fics!

[emmyrosee]

 Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused.  Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫

THIS IS SO CUTEEEE-

Bro this is so long yaLL GET A SNACK- I never had a senior prom this is my venting PFFFFF-

I do want to make a disclaimer! To make this fic work I had to go and use an American based school system, where traditionally seniors are 18, can drive, and eat in cafeterias. For those about to comment my inaccuracies, thank you!

—-

Sukuna has been a little more than preoccupied lately.

He, who once would spend every afternoon driving you and yuuji home, who would blast your favorite music and take you to McDonald’s for a soda, has been more than busy with someone new.

You don’t know where she came from, hell you’ve known the two of them for years, yet this is the first you’ve ever really heard of the being known as Uraume.

“They’ve actually been friends for years,” yuuji had told you. “I’m surprised you never really met her- though she’s pretty shy. Only close with sukuna, honestly.”

Yeah. Real close.

Within just a few weeks, Uraume has snagged your place as Sukuna’s number one. No longer does he stand outside your class to carry your books to the next. Your front seat privileges go to her. He plays her favorite songs. He drops you off at home before taking her to god knows where to do god knows what. And yuuji is blind to this change, merely glad his best friend is sitting in the back seat with him, all the while it tears you up on the inside.

And it isn’t until you catch a beefy hand shift to hold Uraume’s that you realize it’s over. Your heart shatters, your lip wobbles, and you turn your body to face away from the disgusting sight.

“You okay?” Yuuji asks, gently nudging you with the tips of his fingers, and when you look up to peek at Sukuna’s frame once again, you catch his eyes looking at you in the rear view. You sigh and turn your gaze away.

“What’s wrong, brat?” He asks, and you could throw up when Uraume turns in her seat to look at you too.

She looks genuinely concerned, and you could punch her for it.

“Just… take me home, Sukuna,” you murmur.

“But we’re getting pizza!” Yuuji whines. “I don’t want you to miss out!”

You smile and gently pat his leg, “don’t worry about me, yuuji. I’m just getting car sick.”

Car sick enough you don’t car pool with him anymore.

You’re back to taking the bus, curled on your seat to stay out of other people’s way, leaving home about 45 minutes earlier than you would’ve with Sukuna. It makes you skip breakfast and washing your face, barely giving you enough time to get into clean clothes and head off onto the day.

But it’s better than seeing them interact, a crush and potential romance brewing right in your eyesight. You never told him how you were getting to school, either, not in the mood for his attempts to change your mind or force you otherwise.

Until-

“You’ve been taking the fucking bus?”

There’s a loud bark that rings through the halls of school, people moving out of the way for the one and only sukuna to come barreling down it, some looking in worry, others with their eyes rolling in their skull.

You sigh and close your locker, leaning against it, “did yuuji finally tell you?”

“No, and I’m going to beat the shit out of him for not telling me,” he snarls, leaning in close. “Do you know how fucking dangerous the bus can be?”

You roll your eyes, “people take the bus every day, Sukuna.”

“Yeah. Not you. Not anymore. I drive you. You know that.”

“Not anymore,” you grumble. He cocks a brow in challenge and you roll your eyes, “I have no interest in being in a car with you.”

“Who fucking shit in your oatmeal this morning?” He snaps. “You’ve had a punk ass attitude for the past two weeks, what the fuck happened?”

“Maybe im just not into being babied anymore?” You lie. He furrows his brows and licks his lips as the bell rings.

“This isn’t over. We’re not done.”

“I am!” You sing.

You’ve never had a day at school drag like today has.

Classes have never felt longer, teachers have never talked slower, and the clock has never ticked drowsier. It physically causes your head to pound and your stomach to become nauseous, and agony courses though your veins as the lunch bell rings.

It’s only lunch.

You manage to shuffle your way out to the cafeteria to meet your friends, two who cheer happily at your arrival and one who offers you a nod of acknowledgment. You plop down next to Fushiguro and rub your temples.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuji asks, and you flash him a small smile.

“I just don’t feel well.”

“You haven’t felt well in days,” he points out, “I hope you’ll be alright for tomorrow night!”

Tomorrow night.

Prom is tomorrow night.

You scrub your face with your hands, “I’ll feel better once I eat, yuuji. Don’t worry,” you say quietly.

The drumming of Nobara’s nails on the table don’t help the growing migraine in your skull, and you try your best to drown out the noise of so many people and so many thoughts and so many feelings about your argument with sukuna that you feel like you could throw up straight on this table.

Kugisaki grimaces, “I told your brother to be here today to talk about prom,” she says, poking her juice open with a straw. “He’s late.”

“He’s not late,” yuuji says, pointing a finger at a table just a few down. “He’s over there, with Uraume.”

The minute every vowel passes Yuuji’s lips, a shiver trails down your spine, filling your entire being with heaviness and hatred. You don’t dare look over your shoulder, instead you grab a grape from Fushiguro’s lunch to munch on. He nudges the small container closer, and you take another green grape from him.

“Besides,” Yuuji continues, taking a bite of his lunch, “I’m 98% sure Sukuna’s going with her. Something about her friend group and car pooling, I figured we could catch a ride with someone else.”

Your heart stops completely.

The man you’d assumed you were going with, the man you’d been in love with for years, is taking someone else, the day before prom.

“He WHAT!” Kugisaki snaps, and next to you, Fushiguro laces his pinky finger with yours, squeezing softly to keep you grounded. “Oh! The fucking nerve! I knew he was a piece of shit, but THIS?! Oh, Itadori, why couldn’t you have your license!”

“Hey! Why don’t you!”

“Kugisaki,” Fushiguro says softly. “Him being a scumbag is nothing new. But,” you feel blue eyes focus on the side of your head. “Let’s be a little more gentle about this, okay?”

From behind you, there’s a set of laughter that eases its way over the cafeteria, and you wish it was literally anyone else’s, anyone’s other than Uraume’s, and you hate how light and airy it sounds.

How pretty.

“I know for a fact Sukuna’s not that funny,” Kugisaki grumbles, but all you do is pick at your food and silently pretend to agree with your friend.

Sukuna is funny. Sukuna is so funny it hurts, it brings tears to your eyes and your sides and stomach to hurt, and even though you share him everyday, it hurts now to share him with her.

“Man, she’s laughing real hard,” Yuuji says, taking a sip of his water, his head turned to watch his brother interact with his friend. “Wonder what he said.”

“Yuuji,” Megumi warns.

Yuuji chuckles to himself, “it’s almost like they’re feeding off of each other, it’s kinda sweet.”

“Yuuji.”

“-and I mean, Sukuna’s usually not so open and friendly, let alone cracking jokes. It’s cute-“

“ITADORI!”

Megumi snaps hard enough at his friend to make him shut up, and when yuuji finally turns back to face you, your bottom lip wobbles and you play more with your food. Tears pour down your face, as Kugisaki reaches over to rest a hand on yours, sympathy in her gaze. “Yeah,” you sniffle. “It’s cute.” The hand not being cradled by Kugisaki comes up to wipe your tears, and before you know it, your legs stand up and carry you straight to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall where you’re able to finally let it go. You cradle yourself in comfort, eyes screwed shut as you sob every fiber of your soul out.

Kugisaki calls your name once, twice, then she sighs, “come on. Let’s talk this out, okay?”

“I’m not going to prom,” you confess. “Not if he’s going with her.”

“You don’t know if he is, though,” she argues, leaning against your stall door. “And if he is, and he fumbles the best thing that ever happened to him, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

There’s another person that enters the bathroom, and you hear Kugisaki scoff. “You’re like, a thousand percent not supposed to be in here.”

“Bite me,” the voice snaps, and it doesn’t take long to decode it as Sukuna’s. Your hand claps over your mouth to silence your tears, not wanting him to hear you. “I thought she was crying, I wanted to check on her.”

“She’s fine. Shoo.”

“Kugisaki-“

“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” she snaps, and you close your swollen eyes as she defends your honor. “Because we’re not. Don’t act like you care at all about me or her, or her peace or her business. So fucking beat it, before I snitch you out to the principal, then no one’s fucking happy.”

You hear sukuna exhale in annoyance, “just… text me, okay?” He says, and you know he’s talking to you.

“She’ll think about it,” Kugisaki growls. Once the big footprints are out of earshot, you slowly ease your way out of the stall and straight into Kugisaki’s arms, “I know honey, I know,” she soothes, hugging you tight. “You deserve so much better, babydoll. Fuck him.”

“He led me on for months,” you wail. “And he tossed me to the side like a fucking piece of trash. For her.”

“And that’s why you should go to prom,” she argues, pulling back to look at you, eyes soft in understanding. “You don’t need him to have fun- you’ve got friends who are dying to go with you. And you want to make him real jealous?” She asks, and you quirk your brow in intrigue.

She smirks, “go with Fushiguro.”

You sniffle and shake your head, “I cant do that to Fushiguro. Im not going to use him as a pawn to make Sukuna want me again. It’s not fair.”

Kugisaki nods and clicks her tongue, “why don’t you get a note from the nurse and go home for the day?” She encourages, and you ponder the idea in your head.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible idea… to go home and process the day, figure out what to do about prom, maybe even return the dress for your money back. You sigh shakily and nod your head before the bathroom door bursts open again, emerging a yuuji whose hands are clasped over his eyes. “Just wanted to bring you your backpack!”

You snort and wipe your nose, “thank you, Yuuji.”

“You’re welcome!” He shifts his fingers to peek at you, lifting the middle one to make eye contact, “so… sorry we didn’t get to talk about prom.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, ushering them both out of the bathroom. “I’m… I’m probably not going anyways.”

“WHAT!” He whines, his hands coming down to his sides in a saddened pout. “But! It’s senior prom! We have to go!”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t felt up for it since we made the plan to go. Maybe I’m just not supposed to.” When Fushiguro appears from the men’s bathroom and approaches the group, you flash him a sweet smile, “but I want you guys to still go!”

“Well if you’re not going, I’m not going!” Yuuji proclaims.

Fushiguro shakes his head, “if this is about prom, I won’t go either. We can chill at our houses instead-“

“EVERYONE IS GOING TO PROM!” Kugisaki barks, causing more than a few heads to turn in the hall. Then, she sighs, “we’re all old now. This is it. Our last chance of good memories from this shit fuck of a school. Everyone is going. Period.”

“But-“

“We’ll talk it out later,” you say quickly, noticing the duo of Sukuna and Uraume heading to the vending machines together. “I’m going home. Someone take notes for me.”

“Will do,” Fushiguro calls out for you. You feel three pairs of eyes boring into the back of your skull, but you couldn’t care less.

Not when you’re left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

Getting out of school was easy enough. Working up an excuse that you’re dizzy and need to be rushed home. It’s getting home that sucked.

Before, Sukuna was your ride home when you were sick, cutting classes to get you back to your home so you could take care of yourself and get plenty of rest. Now, you stand at a public bus stop, earbuds in your ears, and you wait. You’ve done this route plenty of times by now, courtesy of Sukuna’s front seat being taken by her.

The ride is quiet enough, your head resting against the cool glass of the window as your phone buzzes violently.

sukuna 💪🏻 Where the fuck did you go?

No seriously wtf

This shit with Fushiguro taking notes for you? The fucks up with that?

Why’d you even leave?

You think you can ignore me?

This isn’t over. Once this bell rings?

I’m hunting you down.

You ignore his threats and let the bus carry you home, your exhausted legs finishing the trip up and into the familiar confines of your house. You’ve got at least two hours before sukuna makes good on his word, and you decide to take that time to take care of yourself- something your heart has been too tired to do since Uraume came into your life uninvited.

After a hot shower, some skin care and topped with some pretty perfume, you make your way to the living room, stopping briefly for a snack from the kitchen.

You put on a movie, but your phone won’t stop buzzing. It’s Sukuna, it’s always going to be Sukuna, and you merely turn it on Do Not Disturb.

If ignoring his texts wouldn’t get him pissed, that certainly would.

But you don’t care. Not anymore.

There’s a ferocious knocking on the door that snaps you out of your zone, and it doesn’t take you long to render the intense energy as Sukuna’s. You pause your movie and shrug your blanket off, making your way to the front door.

Your hands tingle and your heart pounds at the idea of confrontation, but you figure you have nothing to lose as you open the door, revealing an annoyed Sukuna, foot tapping impatiently.

“You think you can hide from me?” he snaps, and you roll your eyes and try to close the door. Sukuna merely jams his foot in the frame to stop you. “Stop fucking around with me, and talk to me. And what’s this bullshit of Yuuji telling me you’re not going to prom?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you say blankly, but all that does is aggravate him more, and he uses a big hand to force the door open more. The act would be attractive to you, had your heart not been torn into pieces by him. “Don’t break my door.”

“Don’t ignore my goddamned texts!” He barks. You scoff and step back inside your house, where he swiftly follows you. “You’re acting like a fucking child.”

“IM ACTING LIKE A CHILD?” You screech, loud enough where even Sukuna’s eyes widen. “Me? After this entire week where you’ve picked your new best friend to cling to, IM THE CHILD?”

“Yes!” He snaps. “What, I can’t have other friends?”

“You seemed pretty content with the one,” you chuckle. “Certainly didn’t need me to keep you entertained.”

“It’s not my fault that Uraume’s been hanging out with me more,” he says, crossing his big arms. “You just can’t handle sharing me once in a while? Are you that insecure?”

This, has you wincing back, his words making you nauseous and tears bite at your waterline, stinging painfully as you finally blink a line down. He takes a deep inhale and cards a massive hand through his hair, “I didn’t mean that-“

“Fuck. You.”

“Look-“

“No, you look, Sukuna,” you growl, hands coming up to shove him hard. “You don’t get to gaslight me into thinking I’m being dramatic, after you’ve completely thrown me to the side and neglected me for the week. You don’t get to make me feel like the bad guy after you led me on for months on end, only to chase after another girl. You don’t get to break my heart, and demand me to piece it back together, only to try and guilt me for protecting my peace! FUCK! YOU!”

“Led you on for what?” He asks, confusion replacing annoyance, but aggregation still in his tone. “The fuck are you spewing?” You reach up to shove him again; this time, he grips your shoulders to make you steady, “are you out of your fucking mind? There is no other girl!”

“Oh, yeah,” you scoff, your voice tight with tears. “You just hold every broad’s hand in front of me. You just rest your hand onto every girl’s thigh, clearly. My bad, Sukuna.”

“I never held her hand, I moved her hand from my thigh, you weren’t fucking paying attention!”

“Yeah? What about not walking me to class anymore? Not carrying my books for me? Not sitting next to me anymore, instead going to be with her?”

His brows furrow, and there’s nothing you’d like more than to smack the expression clean off of his face. “Doll, Uraume is a friend. That’s it!”

“Yeah? Then what does that make us?”

“Everything!” He yells, the plates rattling and doors creaking from the force. The tears in your eyes still as you stare up at him, whimpering and shaking in his grip.

“What…?”

He sighs in exhaustion, “are you so dense you don’t notice just how obsessed with you I am? The minute someone else comes into my life, you’re blind to that?”

“Sukuna-“

“I’ve fought Fushiguro over you,” he continues. “I’ve argued with teachers for being late to walk you to your class. I’ve gotten pulled over speeding to your house to be with you. I’ve fucking been here, wanting you, but I was waiting for you to be ready.”

“Well, you’ve sure had a hell of a time proving it,” you snip, and he grits his teeth to ground himself. “Talking to another girl, taking her to prom-“

“I’m not taking her to prom, I’m taking you!”

“Then why have you been ignoring me!”

Your words are silenced as he grabs you by the chin and pulls you in for a kiss, the broken bits of your soul and heart snapping back together. Your brain stops and your stomach swirls, but your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, keeping him close. He tastes like orange soda and feels comforting like a freshly washed blanket, his band tee getting fisted in your hand as your other one plays with the hair of his buzz cut. He shivers, his arms hug around your waist, panting into your mouth before hesitantly pulling back.

He leans down to your ear, “listen carefully. I’m not taking Uraume. I’m taking you. Uraume is a friend. That’s it. Once I tell her we’re together, she’ll back off, and we’re going to be fine. I’ve been ‘ignoring you’ because I figured you wanted space, but I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Got it?” You sniffle and burrow your face in his chest, letting his big arms wrap around you and keep you safe. He presses another kiss to the crown of your head, and you feel your mind go fuzzy at the moment he cradles you close.

“Missed my annoying brat of a crush. Driving to school was so fucking boring,” he says, and you scoff against him and wipe your nose on his shirt. “Ugh. Ew.”

“You’re supposed to find me pretty no matter what,” you sniffle. “Even if I use you as a tissue.”

“Maybe, just don’t use me as a tissue?” He snickers, and when you loosen and laugh yourself, he gently pulls back to look at you.

“C’mon. Show me your dress. Need to know what color tie I’m getting.”

“You want to match with me?” You whimper.

He smirks, “Kugisaki already hates me. You think she’s going to let us not matching slide?”

“You’re so right.”

[starrystevie]

"what's that?" dustin asks one night, eyes zeroed in on steve's chest.

confused, he glances down to where his button up has opened a bit at the neckline, not seeing anything on his skin other than the chain around his neck and bits of chest hair.

"what's what, henderson?"

the chain is simple silver, and at the bottom hidden under his shirt is a ring. he was gifted one of eddie's when they made whatever they were official. eddie let him pick, let steve trail his fingers feather light over his hands and over heavy silver until he found one he liked.

"you gonna pick one in this century?" eddie teased, looking up at him from under his lashes, smirking in the way that gives steve butterflies.

"this is an important decision," steve murmured out in a low voice, his light touch sending shivers down eddie's spine. "i can't just settle on one."

he ends up with a mood ring, one that eddie swore he only had because he needed something on his otherwise bare hand but steve knows it's because he thought it looked mysterious. sliding it off his finger is easy, placing a kiss on the pale bit of skin left behind is even easier.

it doesn't fit on his finger, not even close. he could barely squeeze it onto his pinkie but even then they had to use strawberry lube to get it off after it gets stuck.

"you don't have to wear it," eddie said, defeated with his big brown eyes breaking steve's heart into pieces.

but the thing is, steve is a little more than head over heels for him. he'd do anything to make eddie happy, make him feel loved, and being offered a ring in the first place had him feeling like he could fly. he wanted to show it off, flaunt it around like it was more than a mood ring because it was.

just because his fingers were too big didn't mean he couldn't keep the ring on him at all times. which is how he ended up with it on the simple silver chain around his neck.

the night he showed eddie for the first time, crawling up the bed shirtless to push him into the pillows with a searing kiss, was a night he wouldn't soon forget. eddie stared up at him with something that looked like love dancing behind his eyes as the ring dangled between them, glinting in the moonlight coming in through the bedroom window.

"you're wearing it?" eddie's voice was soft, reverent, as he took a hand up to cover the ring with his hand, pushing it into steve's chest right above his heart. he bent down to give eddie another kiss, relishing in the quick bite of pain that comes from the pressure of him pushing the metal into his chest.

"of course i'm wearing it, babe," steve said against his lips with a smile. "not gonna be able to get me to take it off now."

true to his word, steve never takes it off unless absolutely necessary. he wears it in his sleep, when he slides in behind eddie and curls around him. he wears it to work under his shirts, the metal warm against his skin as it thumps along with his heartbeat. he wears it around the house, when they go out on dates, when he showers. he wears it when he knows eddie will see the outline of it peeking through a tight shirt, driving him crazy.

it becomes habit for eddie to find it, fiddle with it over steve's clothes while they watch tv on the couch. they'll be pressed up against each other, limbs entwined, with his hand directly over the ring, rising and falling with every breath steve takes.

wearing it at all times, however, seems to be causing a bit of a problem. one that even dustin can see.

"don't be obtuse," he tuts as if he was chastising a child, "who gave you a bruise on your chest?"

"what are you talking about, i don't have a bruise on my-"

steve rolls his eyes and goes to the bathroom, flicking on the overhead light and pushing his chest out to get as close the mirror as possible. sure enough, sitting right above his heart, is a barely there bruise. it's a little green, a little brown, but definitely there.

there's something to be said about having eddie bruised above his heart. something to be said about having the indent of his ring pressed into his skin where he's the most vulnerable. the place where he had to learn how to take his armor off to let eddie see in the first place.

steve looks between the bruise and his face, back and forth and back again and watches as his smile grows wide, grows soft around the edges, grows into something that is vaguely eddie shaped which somehow makes it grow even softer.

he can hear eddie get home, the front door slamming as he shouts a too loud welcome to dustin and drops his toolbox onto the floor. his heart thuds a little bit like it always does when he realizes eddie is nearby, and he thinks if he could look close enough, he'd see his eddie shaped bruise jump along with it.

carefully, steve strokes his fingers over the discoloration, presses down just enough to feel it zing through his nerves like the lightning that eddie himself is. he watches as the skin turns pale before blooming back to life again.

steve thinks there's something there that he can't put his finger on. something thrumming through his veins that he can't give a name to.

"baby, you've got to come see this!" he yells into the living room.

something that he has all the time in the world with eddie to eventually figure out.

crossposted on twitter here

[kaz-dekadent]

nsfw alphabet - viktor

okay guys im doing the nsfw alphabet for my man

written with both afab and amab reader in mind, lab partner reader, trans vik, sub leaning switch vik, typical nsfw alphabet stuff

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

please, give him a cuddle and tell him he did good and he's beautiful. remember, he needs a lot of praise and reassuance. he makes sure you're okay too and that you pee afterwards. he would definitely praise you too !! (then fall asleep ofc)

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his waist. grab him by it, maybe squeeze a bit and he's soaked. especially if you have big hands. he loves your thighs - sitting on your lap, holding them while giving you oral, humping them (especially when you're making out), stradling one of them as he fingers you or jerks you off and you feel how wet he is.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

yes, he swallows. likes creampies in theory but is afraid to get pregnant due to his weak health. likes to lick it off your fingers.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

sniffs your underwear, if you were wondering why you hear him whining when he's doing laundry. wants you to fuck him in front of jayce wants you to watch him degrade a councillor.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he's not a virgin, but not really experienced. might have had someone in zaun. has much more knowledge than experience.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

something that let's him see your face and isn't painful for him. when bottoming he'd prefer the classic missionary (especially if you're bigger than him and he feels how you cage him with your body) or the lotus position (best to kiss his collarbones). if he tops he'd have you riding his hexstrap as he holds you with his hands (lean down to kiss him and he melts), or him kneeling with his weaker leg supported by a pillow and you laying before him.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

mostly serious, but sometimes laughs at you and is sarcastic when he's in more bratty mood or he's edging you.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he has a bush and no one will convinve me otherwise. he's quite hairy in general and got even more since going on testosterone

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

super soft & a lil awkward, especially during your first times (during these, he didn't want to take off his shirt and show his back brace. still does it if you find it hot when he has just two buttons undone and his collarbones peek through), slowly got more confident (with lots and lots of praise and reassurance). when domming he's 100% a soft dom. a bit insecure but very loving, wants to make you feel good. when he's being subby he turns into a pillow princess and just wants to be taken care of. sometimes he's bratty.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

does it to relieve his stress, makes the prettiest noises during it, created a vibrator for himself. secretly wants you to catch him while he's playing with himself and force him to continue as you watch.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

size kink (what else do you guys expect of me?). if you're big and strong, he likes to feel small under you (he developed that kink long into the relationship when he got more confident around you and was less afraid that you see him as weak), (after this he started quite liking his small size in comparison to you). make him look up at you, compare your sizes, manhandle him and he's soaking wet. rail him against the wall. he also likes to dominate you and know how he's making you submit without using any strength. and just likes to tie you up. praise kink, as above. omg please recognize this man's accomplishments. tell him how good he's taking your strap/cock or how well he's strapping you. oh, and just a suggestion - fuck him after he makes a scientific breakthrough while complimening his intellingence. dumbification. our smart boy sometimes needs to have his brain turned off to optimize itself. body worship. as we know vik isn't confident about his body. so please kiss his every mole and tell him how beautiful every part of his body is.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

doesn't mind doing it in bed, but would defintely like you to eat him out as he's sitting on his shower bench. or having you fuck him in his lab (either one of you being the other's under desk support, being pounded on the desk, cockwarming/strapwarming you as he sits on your lap while he's working)

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

bantering with you, especially if you're doing it while working with him in the lab. grabbing his waist, slipping your hand between his thighs or generally holding him. and of course, praise. call him a good boy and he short circuits.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

despite the councillor thing, he'd neither like to be degraded or degrade you. he feels bad enough about himself already. not into painplay. he's afraid of hurting you or being hurt due to being quite fragile. as much as he likes to handcuff you, and as much as i handcuff him in my writing, he wouldn't be into receiving it. when you first suggested it, he responded with something sarcastic about his leg.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he's quite skilled in both eating pussy and sucking cock. his moves are precise and he likes to mantain eye contact with you when doing it. prefers giving. and he sucks strap

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he's slow, due to his limited mobility. prefers you being slow and very soft with him too.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

prefers being fucked properly and having a long session with cudding afterwards. but you two do it in the lab when jayce is not present

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

the lab doesn't have to be locked. that's the word. when you two are experimenting or trying something new, he first has to make sure it's safe for the both of you, won't damage his health and yours if you also have some disability.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

since he's quite physically weak, he won't last a lot of time on top of you. but when he bottoms, he would come a dozen times, but start crying during the second, and when you ask him if you should stop, he would shake his head and ask to continute.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

100% builds toys himself for the two of you. (like the hexstrap). if you're afab you two definitely have heavy makeouts, naked, with his vibrators inside the two of you, until the bedsheets have to be changed. if you're amab and especially if you struggle with erection, he would build you a cock ring

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

as i wrote here: vik is definitely the type to provoke and tease you until he gets what he wants. he would pretend to mistake your lap for a chair or lean on you and make cute faces, maybe unbutton a part of his shirt, "accidentally" exposing his collarbones, waiting until you snap and pin him to the wall. then he would smirk, and you would kiss his neck, making him whine for more, waiting until he gets your cock/strap. he would do as above or tell you dirty shit as soon as jayce leaves the lab. and as soon as you blush, he would walk away with a satisfied smirk. and you would know you can't fuck him because he would soon come back. unless...

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

whiniest man ever. prettiest moans you'd ever hear, and he moans at the littlest touch. when he's coming, he curses in czech. sometimes tells you about his research when you two are at it and he cries ofc

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he built the strap for the two of you himself, as above has a mole on his pussy (yes, when you kiss his every mole, this one is included).

smokes during fucking

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

pussy color is probably as pale as his skin. clit is more red. his labia is definitely a bit wrinkly also our beloved hexstrap

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

since he's a workaholic, he doesn't have time and energy for fucking as much as he'd like to. but he's so needy you two sometimes do it in the lab and if you don't he gets sooo needy when you two finally get in bed.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

as soon as he can, he falls asleep. you have to wake him up and remind him to pee afterwards, but he's such a pretty sleeper your heart breaks when you do it. sometimes you ask to fuck him just so he would finally sleep

[notjustjavierpena]

How did reader reveal that she was pregnant with Lucas?

Bun (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This might be heavily influenced by a TikTok that I watched months ago. I hope you like it. It seemed to fit a first-time-pregnant couple.

Summary: You do a pregnancy reveal for Javier!

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic fluff, pregnancy reveal, hugs and kisses, Javi is a himbo, reader is a MILF

Word count: 700

Bun

“How bad is it? Is it very bad?” You ask, peeking over Javier’s shoulder and into the oven. It’s a miracle that the smoke detector has not gone off because a tiny cloud has just emerged from your oven.

“Honey,” Javier sighs dramatically. He has oven mittens on, pulling out a rack from the oven whilst you are giggling, “I love you so much but why would you make a single roll? How did you even measure the ingredients?”

He places the rack on top of the stove. On the baking sheet lies a single bun, black from charcoal as you have accidentally forgotten about it in your excitement to tell your secret. You roll your eyes but cannot stop smiling. You know something he does not, “It’s not a roll, it’s a bun.”

Javier pulls off the oven mitts and hangs them in their usual spot on a hook on the wall, furrowing his brow, “Okay?”

“What did you just pull out of the oven?” You say. You really thought that he was going to get there sooner.

“A burnt roll,” he replies with slight exasperation.

“Noooo,” you laugh at his obliviousness, “It’s still not a roll. It’s a bun.”

“Fine,” he shakes his head, “A burnt bun then.”

“It’s a bun,” you try to spell it out for him, “… In the oven.”

“Uh-huh? Yeah?” He narrows his eyes in confusion.

“We have a bun in the oven,” you smirk.

“I just pulled it out,” he argues.

You run a hand over your face, and then you start laughing loudly but it only seems to annoy your husband. If he only knew that you want to make a joke about pulling out being too little too late.

“What? Why are you laughing?” He is starting to lose patience with you.

“Javi,” you say his name sweetly when you finally start to calm down, “We’re having a baby.”

The sentence’s meaning takes a moment for him to process but suddenly, his eyebrows rise up into his hair. He looks much younger now, mouth falling open in amazement and awe, “Wait, what? Are you serious?”

“I took a pregnancy test while you were at work,” you giggle as he practically launches himself in your direction. He picks you up from the floor when he hugs you, causing a squeak to leave you, “And then I took two more. They’re all positive.”

“You are joking!” He gapes at you when he places you back down on the floor, mood changing incredibly quickly between surprised, happy, and suspicious. You nod and he runs both hands through his hair, “Are you sure?”

“I’m not joking, and actually I’m positive,” your cheeks are starting to hurt from beaming due to happiness and Javier laughs genuinely at your silly joke. You know it’s only been eight weeks but this just feels so right, and you will confirm it at the doctor’s next week.

“Oh, mi amor. ¡Qué fantástico! (Oh, my love. How fantastic)!” His kiss takes you by surprise but you hold onto his wrists as he cups your face and melt against him, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you bask in your happiness and love when you pull away, bump your noses together, “Now we’ll just have to hope they take after me. Otherwise, we’re in for some serious trouble.”

“Ay,” he tuts as he kisses you a few times more. You pull his hands from your face and wrap his arms around your waist. He hugs you close to his chest, “These strong genes are sure to give you a Peña clone.”

“Alright, Peña,” you giggle into his shoulder, “We get it.”

“It’s really ‘we’ now, huh?” He talks into your ear.

“It was always we. As in I can’t believe we’re going to have a baby,” you say dreamily, “I’ll be a mom.”

“You’ll be a MILF,” he snickers when you pull back to glare at him. You slap his chest.

“Not in front of the b-a-b-y,” you say with fake outrage.

“A M-I-L-F then,” he jokes back.

“You’re incorrigible,” you lean back into his embrace.

He puts his arms around you even tighter, talking against your cheek, “I never know how to behave accordingly around you, Momma.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[it-happened-one-fic]

Hours in the Moonlight: Somnolent Gloaming - 6. Stick With the Stairs

Summary: It had been quite some time since Vil had last visited, and you certainly hadn’t expected him to be quite so playful when he did come. Nor had you prepared for him to be in the mood to show-off. You weren’t complaining though. After all, it was always nice to spend time with the first vampire you’d truly become close to.

Series Type: Gender-neutral reader/ Vampire AU/ series/ romantic/ angst/ angst with comfort/ fluff/ sfw/ platonic interactions too!

Trigger Warning: Vampire

Word Count: 1600

Hours in the Moonlight Master-List

I hadn’t been awake long when a light tapping sounded on my window, causing me to frown.

I wasn’t expecting anyone, and though Malleus had offered to send someone to walk me to his clan’s headquarters, I’d refused him, and so far as I knew, he didn’t know where I lived.

And if he did, then I was about to get very disturbed.

I was cautious as I pulled back the curtain, and my eyes widened as the light of the first stars that peeked out through the clouds filling the overcast sky illuminated the man who otherwise shadowed.

His cape blew slightly in the light wind as he looked down at me, a smile slipping onto his beautiful face as I looked up at him. And it was odd to realize that even though I’d known Vil for so long, he could still take my breath away at times.

I swallowed as I looked up at him, finding my voice before it became obvious that anything was amiss, “Vil… What are you doing here?” 

I stepped back to let him in, watching as he slipped through the window as calmly as ever.

Amusement filled his voice as he spoke, and I felt myself relax at his words, “I just came to check up on you. Is that no longer allowed?”

I couldn’t deny that I sometimes wondered if my friendship with him was allowed. Crowley had never said anything, but I did wonder if it would ever crop up as an issue. He’d used those I cared for in the past, so there was nothing saying the birdlike vampire wouldn’t do so again.

But I didn’t comment on any of that. It would only make Vil worry and result in a conversation that I didn’t really want to face.

So instead, I smiled. Crossing my arms slightly as I eyed the young man across from me, “Of course it is. I just wasn’t expecting you, and I’ll be heading out soon to go to work.”

Vil nodded, his head tilting ever so slightly, “Yes, well, I thought I might walk you. It is raining after all.”

As he spoke, he held up a black umbrella that had me chuckling slightly, “Alright, let me get ready then.”

Vil watched, an idle smile on his face as I grabbed my bag and then latched the necklace around my neck. Letting the cross that hung from it settle comfortably against my collarbone before I turned to face him once more.

Vil may have been the one to get me the necklace, but that didn’t mean he could handle seeing it when he himself was a vampire.

Something flickered in his gaze as he looked at the visible portion of chain from where the necklace hung mostly under my shirt, though, “Do you always wear that when you go out?”

There was a softness to his voice as he spoke, and I felt a smile flicker across my face. I doubted many would believe it if I were to try and tell them exactly how much of a softie this man was.

“Well, of course. It’s an added bit of protection, and I did tell you I’d try to be careful,” I couldn’t help but tease him slightly as I grinned at both him and his affection. 

He snorted slightly at my words, shaking his head, “At least you are putting in an effort then. I was worried after I found out you'd made friends with Leona, of all people.” 

I felt my eyebrows lift at his words before I shrugged, waving off his pointed comment as if it were a particularly pesky bug, “Leona isn’t that bad. You just have to get used to him.”

Even as I spoke, I was thinking back to the one time I’d seen Leona and Vil interact. That had been quite the meeting, and it still had me questioning exactly what their relationship was.

Vil had said early on, before I’d ever even met Leona, that the two of them had an understanding. And they certainly were comfortable enough snipping back and forth, as I’d seen from that one time they’d both been here at my apartment.

 I watched Vil, half wanting to question him but opting to remain silent as he turned and headed towards the window. It was nice enough that he’d come by to visit that I didn’t want to question him.

 I’d been expecting that I’d be too busy while evaluating the Diasomnia Clan to see any of my friends, so, in truth, I simply wanted to revel in this time with him. 

As selfish as that may be when I knew he had a clan all his own to lead.

I found myself smiling as I turned and walked the opposite direction from him and towards the door, “I’ll meet you downstairs then.”

“Oh?” His tone had me stopping immediately and glancing back at him in confusion, only to find him leaning against the window frame. His eyes were glistening with amusement as he gestured out the still-open window, “I thought you might join me in using this exit.”

He watched silently as I stared at him in silent disbelief before walking over and looking out my window and down at the street. 

It was the same two-story drop as ever, but I found myself stepping back with a halfway nervous laugh, “Yeah… No, I think I’ll just take the stairs.”

His eyebrows lifted at my words, his arms now smoothly crossed in front of him. Somehow not wrinkling his clothes at all, though that was to be expected of Vil. 

“Nervous are we, Tater tot? And here I thought you’d be fine considering Jack told Epel that you’d gone with him through this very same window.”

Jack had told Epel? I hadn’t even known those two knew each other, much less that they were talking about random stuff like that….

I made a slight face at Vil’s words, “That was a different situation, you know that, Vil.”

He nodded, “True, but I thought you might be in a hurry this evening too. It is already dark out after all.”

When I stayed silent, his expression turned more amused, “Or perhaps you trust Jack more than me?”

I felt myself make yet another face at his words, frowning at him as I shook my head, “Now you know that’s not true, Vil and-”

He reached out, his thumb rubbing at the spot between my eyebrows as if he could smooth the skin there with his mere touch, “There, enough of that. Time is hard enough on us all; you should be kinder to your skin.”

I let out a slight huff at his lightly scolding words and didn't bother fighting as he calmly wrapped an arm around me and pulled me over so that I pressed against his side. He glanced down at me even as I stubbornly looked forward and not at him, “Scared?”

I relented, glancing up at him before wrapping my arms around his neck and exhaling, halfway bracing myself since this was obviously going to be happening, “No.”

Even my voice sounded stubborn, and he snorted again but didn’t hesitate as he placed one foot on the edge of the window. His arm around me tightening even as I felt every part of me tensing.

“I should certainly hope not. I wouldn’t be much of a vampire if I couldn’t handle carrying a Tater Tot with me.”

I glanced up at him, already prepared to retort, only for him to push off the ground and out the window with very little warning.

I inhaled sharply, all but clinging to him as we emerged from my apartment and out into the open air, his cape flapping out behind us as we zipped towards the ground at disturbingly fast speeds.

The umbrella popped open over our heads, and he clicked down, somehow landing lightly and with perfect balance in his heels with me clinging to his side, still wide-eyed despite the fact I’d somehow managed to keep from screaming my head off.

He’d been in complete control the entire time, and even now he was smiling down at me, the umbrella already held over our heads from where he’d somehow opened it mid-air without ever having to adjust his hold on me.

His grip on me relaxed as I found my balance, slowly letting go of him now that we were on steady ground.

“There, not so bad was it?” He sounded oddly smug as he linked his arm with mine, and I found myself snorting slightly at him as I shook my head.

I didn’t really know what had gotten into him, but it was almost like Vil was showing off or something. Which was ridiculous since he was already amazing enough as he was and didn’t have anything to prove. 

Not to me at least. I didn’t need him adding onto what he’d already shown me. He was amazing enough as it was. I wasn’t sure I could handle much more without beginning to question if he were real.

“Still, I think I’ll stick with the stairs,” I smiled at him, elbowing him slightly and watching with a grin as his eyebrows lifted my words.

“Well, I should certainly hope so. You only just provided me with evidence that you were being careful. I don’t need you to start jumping out windows now.”

I laughed aloud at his wry tone as we started walking side-by-side through the rain like we didn’t have a care in the world.

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[robo-writing]

NSFW Alphabet - Barnabas Tharmr Edition

Pairing: Barnabas Tharmr/Reader Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors DNI Author's note: Took me a while to get his manner of speech right, but I think I nailed it in the end. Warning for some more dark romance themes in this one, otherwise enjoy!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s clingy, preferring to lay in bed alongside you, indulging himself in your presence. Afterwards he’ll have one of the maids run a bath for the two of you, but until then you’re not leaving the bed for anything. Whatever you need it can wait, right now Barnabas needs you by his side and nothing else.

Stubborn as anything, he pins you to the bed. “And where exactly do you think you’re going?” He asks, as if you leaving his embrace is a betrayal. You don’t get a chance to explain yourself, silenced by his lips against yours. Sweet as they are, you pull away with a laugh, pressing your fingers to his chest. “I only wish for some water, is that too much to ask?” He buries his head in your neck, nibbling at the vast expanse. “Yes, it is.” 

“It’s only a short walk away!” You laugh.

He lays his head between your chest, peeking up at you with pale blue eyes. “Far longer than I could stand to be separated from you.” An arm snakes its way to your back, pulling you ever closer. “I will summon one of the handmaidens, but until then you will stay here, with me.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

If you ask him to choose he will look at you like you’ve grown feathers and a tail. What do you mean favorite? He loves everything about you, he’s not so simple to prioritize one thing above another.

He’d probably say his hands, because he gets a lot done with them. The same hands he uses to cut down foes is the same ones he uses to make you cum.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s coming inside of you, no questions asked. Don’t try to argue with him either, he’ll just fuck you until you’re too stupid to say no. Afterwards he’ll watch it drip out of you fascinated, might even finger it back inside.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Enjoys the idea of having you sat on his cock during especially boring meetings, your moans forcing the other council members to stop and take pause at your blissful expressions, spread open in a way only he could provide.

Of course he’s far too possessive to let such a thing happen, but a man can dream.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Has experience with bedding women for the sake of pleasure, but you’re the first woman that has caught his eye in a more profound way, made a dent in his bedsheets. It’s the first time he’s felt genuine love, and it took him a while to understand those emotions.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary or lotus position, close third would be cowgirl. Really anything that lets him hold you close.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very serious, do not try anything funny. Any attempts will be met with an ache that persists for days.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Does the bare minimum in terms of shaving, but if you ever mention it he’s making it a regular habit. He’d do anything for you as long as you asked him. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Initially he struggled with his emotions, didn’t quite understand why his heart picked up its pace when he looked at you or why your smile could lift him from the foulest of moods. He didn’t have a name for it, but he knew that he needed you more than he needed to breathe. When he finally understood that this yearning for you was love, he was quick to express that.

The power you have over him is something so grand, so tangible he would kiss the very ground you walk on if it pleased you so. Sex with him isn’t an act, it’s devotion; sweet and simple.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

High sex drive, doesn’t jerk off. He wants every single drop of his seed in you and you only. He had left for an excursion beyond Waloed, forced to suffer the words of politicians for hours on end. He shouldn’t have to be here, but they had insisted, wanting an answer from the king himself even if it would be the same as it always had. He had grown antsy in your absence, images of your form haunting him as he pretends to be interested in what they have to say. Days pass and he can feel a nagging in the back of his mind, wanting nothing more than to hold you in his embrace, to taste the sweat against your skin, feel you call out his name in bliss. He lies awake at night missing you, erection pressed against his sleepwear uncomfortably, but makes no move to relieve himself. 

No, he wouldn’t dare, not without you. A week passes, and he is finally returned to his love, your familiar scent putting him at ease the moment he steps into your shared bedchambers. He can never tire of this, of how you so easily bring him at peace.

You jump into his arms without hesitation, kissing him tenderly. “Welcome back, my lord.” There’s a coy smile on your face, a hand gingerly playing with his hair. “I’ve missed you.” He admires you, a familiarity in your gaze. He is glad to know he was not the only one left wanting. He picks you up unceremoniously, walking to the bed. “As have I, my love. Allow me to show you just how much.”

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lingerie - Seeing you dressed in the finest of lace is a gift in and of itself, and being able to rip off the wrapping makes that gift even more enjoyable.

Body Worship - You are his queen, expected to be treated as such. 

Mirrors - An extension of body worship, he will watch eagerly as you shake on his lap, a single hand placed at your neck. “Do not turn your eyes away, my beloved. I should have you witness yourself, as I do.”

Choking - Either giving or receiving, depends on what he’s in the mood for that night. Sado-Masochism - Let’s be real here, this is Barnabas we’re talking about. The man lives for battle, both in and out of the bedroom. Treat him rough, he can handle it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom, occasionally the throne room if he’s feeling bold. Also has a tendency to drag you away to the nearest empty room if you’re looking extra desirable that day. It’s not like anyone will complain after all, he is the king.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

A single look from you is enough to get his blood boiling. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything involving bodily fluids, or anything that would permanently scar you. He may be a masochist but he’s not unsanitary, nor is he evil.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As mentioned before, his only experience with sex prior was whatever woman would occupy his bed when he felt like it. He used to think he had a preference for receiving because that’s all he knew until that point, focused on his own pleasure above all, but you quickly changed his view.

His mouth moves against your pussy enthralled, his eyes dark with lust. You mewl for him, a beautiful sound that stokes a fire inside, brings him closer and closer to completion without a single touch.

You squirm under him, unable to handle his ministrations even if he knows you crave them so. His two hands lock you in place, no room to push away as he devours every last drop of your lust.

It runs over his chin, spills against your plush thighs, and he makes no move to remove himself. He indulges, gorges himself on your taste until he’s satisfied, and returns for seconds greedily.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

On a good day he’ll drag on for hours, teasing you until you cry, on a bad day he’ll fuck you until his fingers bruise your skin and your legs give out. Depends on how annoying his royal advisors are.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes, but not too often. He’s aware of his reputation, but he will throw it out the window in a heartbeat if he sees the brand new lingerie set he’s bought you peeking out beneath your dress.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes, without a doubt. 

The cold bite of steel sends a shudder down your spine. Ever so slowly, the flat of the blade moves against your naked chest, to your stomach, and finds its target at the fine line of your panties.

Barnabas watches you mesmerized, how your body reacts to the danger, goosebumps forming as he moves his blade across your skin. You don’t move away from him, even when the blade moves back to line your throat.

“So well behaved,” he whispers, pressing the blade further against your skin. “You would trust me with your very life?”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I would.”

You bite your lip when you feel his knee pressed into your pussy, knife still at your throat. 

“And what if my hand were to slip?”

It never would of course. Barnabas is far too experienced to let such a thing happen.

A quick flick of his wrist and your underwear is left in pieces, the blade now lying flat against your mound. His eyes roam across your body, a hint of something sadistic rising when he sees your reaction.

You tremble, forcing yourself to stay still lest the knife truly hurts you. Even as you try your best, he can feel you just barely moving against his knee, still seeking pleasure.

A whimper, shaky hands moving to rest at his chest. “Please, keep going.”

A wicked grin passes across his face. “As you wish.”

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

You can try to beg him to stop, the key word here is “try.” Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t listen.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Assuming this is a modern AU, he’ll entertain a buttplug or a vibrator. If ropes count as toys,  then those too. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Damn near fucking evil. His dick could be throbbing in his pants, ready to make a mess of himself but he will hold back just to draw out your pleasure one more time, just one more time dear— It’s never just one more time.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Grunter, not very loud. Would rather listen to your cries instead.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves to teach you how to defend yourself. He was over the moon when you asked him to hold a sword for the first time, and now you’ve gotten to the point where you can parry a blow. Not only is it an excuse to spend time with you, but he can have the peace of mind to know that if you’re forced to fight, you could handle yourself. 

You would never have to, of course, because he’d never leave your side long enough for anyone to harm you. Any fool bold enough to try would be unrecognizable after the fact, but he’d be a liar if he said the image of a sword in your hand wasn’t arousing.

The both of you stand in the courtyard, not a soul around save for the birds that fly overhead. You hold your sword in a strong grip, despite your exhaustion, while Barnabas has barely broken a sweat. Inexperienced as you are there is a spark in you, one that may yet grow into a wildfire with the right training.

“You have been practicing without me, I can see it in your stance.” He muses, eyeing your weakened body.

To anyone else it may seem a mockery, but you knew better. You raise your sword in front of your body, lips curling into a grin.

“Do you think I’ll be able to defeat you now?”

He shakes his head in amusement. “A Dominant you are not, but I will make a fine swordswoman out of you yet.” (As an added bonus, I also think he would love bringing you the most lavish gifts! Perfumes, jewelry, the softest fabrics straight from the Dhalmekian Republic, he enjoys spoiling you. Anything for his queen.)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6.1 inches, uncut, slightly curved upwards, veiny. Always hits your gspot without fail.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Less of a sex drive and more like he’s ready to please you if you so wish. You would only have to ask, and sometimes you don’t have to, he can tell. The two of you are sitting in the throne room, side by side as he gives an audience with a member of royalty.

You’ve been eyeing him all day, sneaking a glance every time he speaks. You shouldn’t bother him, he has enough on his plate as sole ruler of Waloed, so instead you let your imagination run amok. Broad shoulders and strong arms, large hands that always know what you need and how you need it. Maybe he’d tease you, or maybe he’d fuck you until his name is the only thing you can scream.

Gods, just thinking about him makes your core ignite. Your focus is broken when the man rises from the floor, leaving the room. Had you been daydreaming that long? Your confusion is further increased when Barnabas motions for his personal guard to leave the room. “I would have a moment to myself,” He waves towards the large oak doors. “See that I’m not interrupted.” Wordlessly they file out, and only when he’s certain no one remains does he turn toward you. “How long have you been left wanting?” Your eyes widen. You try to deny it, but a hand at your chin stops you. “I could feel it, your gaze,” His hand moves lower, tracing against your collarbone, then grabbing your neck as he speaks lowly. “I can see right through you, desperate little thing you are.” He pulls you toward him, leaving your seat and moving into his lap without hesitation. “Tell me what has preoccupied your mind so, what you need.” You shiver, a hand slowly moving up your bare thigh, higher and higher. “You, Barnabas.” Pleased with your answer, those same large hands remove your underwear within seconds. “Then you may have me.”

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Doesn’t sleep, enjoys watching you sleep peacefully. He'll stroke your hair and whisper as sleep claims you. "My beautiful queen, forever and always."

[mycupofrum]

Last line tag & New year, new snippet

Thank you for tagging me @lovelymasks @goldenlionprince @lilacella for either or both of these tag games. ��� I have been pretty stuck with my writing, which is why I haven't posted anything lately. But I finally managed to get some words out of me, so here is a snippet from my WIP Out of time with Sirius/Gellert. (Thanks to @arliedraws for reminding me of it!)

___

Their game ended with Gellert winning, which was fine. Sirius may be competitive when he wants to be, but chess is all the same to him right now since he needs Gellert to be in a good mood. 

"Well, now. Let us see about the other matter then, shall we?" Gellert says, getting up from the chair. Sirius follows suit as he walks across the room to the bed. 

"Take off your clothes." 

Sirius snorts at the command but plays along and begins to undress. He did resist the man for months, which is not for nothing. 

Now that he has a plan, a valid reason for everything, it's a lot easier to just get on with it. 

He makes sure Gellert watches his every move as he discards his robe, unbuttons his shirt and undoes his trousers. 

Gellert's eyes never leave him, their hungry gleam betraying his otherwise impassive expression. As he moves slightly, something glinting behind his robe catches Sirius's eye. Right there in the breast pocket of Gellert's vest lies a small object, with a thin metallic chain attached to it peeking out.  

Sirius frowns. Has he seen it before? At first glance he'd assume it was a pocket watch. But pocket watches aren't shaped like that, long and thin like a phial.  

Has Gellert carried it with him all this time? It's odd Sirius never noticed, given how much he pays attention to everything. A little too odd.  

He inhales sharply as realisation hits him. 

"How many times have you Obliviated me?" His question comes out before he has time to digest the possible outcome, that is, being Obliviated again. 

Gellert sighs and shrugs off his robe, allowing it to fall on the floor. "Must you bring this up now, Sirius? We were just getting to the good part." 

___

Open tag! You can tag me back if you decide to do either of the tag games, I'd love to see what you're working on. :)

[yaoi-enthusiasts]

The King & His Curses — Chapter One: Mine All Mine

18+ | DARK CONTENT | R | Smut | Death

masterlist

“Here.” You said, as you handed your husband a paper bag with his breakfast, and lunch.

“You still mad?” He chuckled, looking at his watch 5:32AM “Nope.” You said as you turned around to go back into your shared bedroom, to go back to sleep. You felt your body being twisted around, and your husband was now close to your face. “If you aren’t mad anymore, then why are forgetting to kiss me goodbye?” He smirked. “Because I simply am not in a kissing mood.” You huffed, as you looked away from him. The night prior, your husband had not only worked late but afterwards he went to the bar to have a couple beers with the guys he works along side with, while you, were slaving in the kitchen, making him dinner, and waiting for him to get home. “Oh— is that so doll?” He chuckled, as he smacked his lips onto yours, and kissing you roughly. He let go after a few seconds, leaving you breathless. “I will see you tonight.” He smirked, as he smacked your ass, and kissed you a final time. “I love you…” you mumbled, he smiled, his canines peeking out, “I love you too doll.”

You were 22, and Sukuna was 25, you two had gotten married when you were 18 and he was 21. You both were childhood friends, his grandpa would babysit you as your parents went to work, and you were not old enough to go to school, you mostly were around his brother Yuuji, and his half brother Choso, being that you 3 were closest in age, but even then you always were attached to Sukuna, even as a baby.

You recall when you were 7 and Sukuna was 10, Grandpa Itadori waited at the bus stop for you, Yuuji, and Choso, and you always begged to wait at the bus stop for 10 more minutes so you could walk with Sukuna back home, Grandpa Itadori always let you, knowing you would cry otherwise.

“SUUUUUKKKUNNNAAAA!” You would sing out as he stepped off the bus, with his same old same old cold expression, but something about seeing this little girl he’s known his whole life, he would get this toothy grin, and run up to you, while all his friends called out for him, he would pay them no mind. “How was school?” You would smile, dancing around, and having your hands intertwined with his as you both walked home together. “Lame, my teacher is such a nag.” He would huff, “What’s a nag?” You would peer up at the older boy, admired by him. “She always tells me what to do, and tells me to stop doing things.” He replied, “Well she is the teacher, we have to listen to her.” You would poke at his cheek. “I don’t! I don’t listen to anyone.” He would say with a hmph. “Well you should listen to your teacher.” You would say with a smile. After that, Sukuna would listen to his teachers up until he graduated, all because that seven year old girl had told him to.

You knew you were in love with Sukuna when you were thirteen, he had turned sixteen, and you watched as one day he sprouted like a tree, and at 16, he was already 5’10. You watched as all the girls drooled over him, and would ask him to walk them home, but he always had one priority, and that was walking you back to his house to do homework. “Come on kid.” He would say, pinching your cheeks. You began to blush, that was when you realized you had fallen in love with him, which Yuuji and Choso always knew, they picked on you for a while for not realizing it sooner.

At 17, was finally when you snapped, he had turned 20, he had just started his career in being an electrician, and met some girl at a stupid bar with his buddies. You were at Grandpa Itadori’s house doing your homework with Yuuji, while Choso was taking his college classes, when you saw Sukuna bring a girl over to the house, and he was making them a sandwich, and invited her up to his room, to watch tv. You weren’t stupid, you knew he was a player, and would mess around with different girls. “Hey why the long face?” Yuuji chuckled, knowing damn well why you were upset. “I just don’t get what he sees in her?” You said with a sigh. “Yeah, I don’t see why he’s messing with all these girls, when he’s gonna ask you to marry him when you turn eighteen and graduate.” Yuuji says carelessly. “What?” You whipped your head around. “Yeah he said he was gonna ask y/n to marry him— wait oh shit.” Yuuji shook his head, “Y/n! Don’t say anything!” He covered your mouth.

“Hey, why are you covering her mouth like that punk!” Sukuna hisses, as he came down stairs to grab a soda. You both turned to look at Sukuna, and your eyes teared up. “I’m going home.” You said, as you grabbed your things, and walked out the house. “Hey!” Sukuna called out, not knowing what just happened, he death glared Yuuji, “What did you do?”

You walked across the cul-de-sac to your house, your parent were never home, so you knew you could cry without being interrupted, as you opened your front door, you felt a force, where you couldn’t shut it. “Y/n!” Sukuna breathed out, he had looked like he had been running after you. “What?” You hissed, as you wiped your tears. “What can I do for you?” You added, being extra cold. “Why are you mad at me? What did I do?” He grunted, “I don’t want to talk to you.” You wiped your eyes again with your sleeve. “Why are you crying? What did Yuuji say? I’ll kick his ass if he hurt you, who hurt you? I’ll kick their ass right now!” He said in an almost angry panic. “Then you should kick your own ass!” You huffed. “What did I do?” He asked puzzled. “Just go away, go to one of your little girlfriends.” You shooed him away. “Is that what this is about?” He said softer, finally stepping in the house and shutting the door. “NO!” You shouted, “Clearly it is, why are you upset that I have a girl over?” He peered into your eyes, he knew why, he knew that you liked him, but this is Sukuna we are talking about, he is having his fun, because once you graduate, he was wanting to marry you, Grandpa Itadori told him to wait, to be patient, to secure a good job, have his fun, and then settle down when you graduated.

“I don’t want to talk about it Sukuna…” You whimpered. You felt him pull you into a hug. “She doesn’t mean anything and you know that, I just… I am a man okay, and I have needs, and I can’t…” He got silent. “You can’t what?” You peered up. “Y/n” He groaned, throwing his head back. “Just be patient with me, and you will see.” He begged, you knew what he meant, the glimmer of hope in your chest. “Okay.” You sniffled, “I promise it will be worth the wait.” He kissed your forehead.

After that you never saw another girl again.

Two weeks after graduating, you had forgotten what Yuuji had said about Sukuna, your parent’s divorced, and your mom started taking out all her anger on you. Which led you to live with your dad in his one bedroom apartment, he slept on a pull out couch, while he gave you the bedroom.

“Dad, I’m sorry that you have to sleep on that couch.” You cried one night. Your dad pulled you into a hug, telling you to never apologize, he ended up telling you how sorry he was for not being there for you more, and not working hard on his marriage, even though he tried, your mom was simply just a selfish woman, and enjoyed her freedom. “I promise one day, you will have a better life than this.” He smiled, rubbing your ring finger. You didn’t notice it at the time, but your dad already knew, Sukuna had already asked for your hand in marriage, and even though your father was protective over you, if he had to choose anyone to marry his daughter, it was going to be Sukuna, despite the tattoos that littered his skin, and and stone cold expression.

KNOCK KNOCK

“Can you get that sweetie?” Your dad said from the kitchen, on a random Tuesday. “Yes daddy!” You yelled out, as you finished getting dressed. Your dad had just bought you a car, and you wanted to go surprise Sukuna and the boys. You opened the door, and see Sukuna with a goodie basket. “Suuuukkkkuuuuu!” You squeal, grabbing the basket, putting it down, and hopping into his arms for a hug. “Hey my girl.” He smiled, rubbing your back. “What are you doing here?” You smiled big, “I came to say hi, I was in the area, and since your pops got himself a new place, wanted to bring some housewarming presents. He said as you stood back up, with the hugest smile on your face. It had been 3 months since graduating, and you were working at a little optical shop, selling glasses, which ended up making you more money than you anticipated. “And wanted to congratulate you on graduating and getting you a big girl job.” He smiled. “Thank you Suku! I am making $18/hr! Isn’t that crazy for my first job?” You squealed, you felt like things were finally looking up. “Hey Sukuna.” Your dad waved as Sukuna finally came into the apartment. “Hey Mr. Y/L/N” He waved back. “I brought you some housewarming stuff, sorry I am a little late.” He smiled, handing your dad the basket full of stuff, one of them being a very expensive whiskey. “Hey, this is the good stuff Sukuna!” Your dad smiled brightly, the same smile that you always had, your dad and you were the same person, you didn’t really resemble your mom’s personality, only her facial features. “Learned from the best sir.” He smiled. “I see you got some new ink?” Your dad pointed. “Oh yeah, a buddy of mine tattoos now, so I got some work done.” He said as he lifted his sleeve to show the sleeve in process. “That’s real cool kid.” Your dad nods with a smile. “Is it okay, that I take your daughter out for a little? I’ll bring her back, around 9PM?” Sukuna said nervously, you whipped your head to your dad, nodding excitedly. “Yeah I don’t see why not, her curfew is 12, so if you are running a little after 9, that’s okay.” He smiled. “Really daddy!” You smiled, giving your dad a hug. “I love you sweetie, you two be careful.” Your dad smiled, as he waved you two goodbye.

“Where we going?” You said as you sat in the passenger seat of his truck. “I saw this field area, and it has some shops that I think you would find fun.” He said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Are Yuuji and Choso coming too?” You said as you fidgeted with the end of your skirt. “Nope, just you and I.” He said in an almost nervous tone. “You been busy Suku.” You sighed, sighing louder than what you meant. “I have, work has been busier than normal.” He responded. “I know, it’s okay— I’m just happy I get you all to myself.” You giggled. You saw as he pulled into a parking spot in front of this field, with wildflowers all around.

“Sukkkkuuuuu! This is so pretty!” You sang out, smiling brightly, as you jumped out the truck. “Be careful now.” He chuckled. “This is so pretty! You were right, I would love this.” You said as you pulled out your phone and took pictures of the field and flowers. he stood there, admiring you, the tips of his ears red. “Sukuna, come on.” You pulled at his hand, walking into the field of flowers. You didn’t even realize a woman snapping photos as you danced around in the field. “Y/n” Sukuna said softly, you turned around with your eyes sparkling, and a slight blush on your cheeks, you were at your peak of happiness, you felt as if you could never be happier. You saw as he stood there nervously, his hand in his pocket, clutching something. “What is it Suku?” You said, as you walked up to him. “How would you feel if you always had me to yourself?” He asked. “What do you mean?” Your breath hitched, you knew what was happening but you didn’t.

“What if I said I wanted you all to myself, for the rest of our lives? What if I said I have been waiting for this moment my entire life, and now I want nothing but you.” He said as he pulled out a little velvet box from his pocket. You smiled, tears swelling up in your eyes. “I know this is not how it usually goes, I know typically you date, and all that cheesy stuff, but I want to do all of those things with you being my wife, I don’t want you just as a girlfriend, I want to make you Mrs. Itadori, I want… please marry me.” He said as his red eyes glimmered in the sun. You dropped to your knees, tears slipping down, you looked up at his soft face, that people were so scared of. You placed your hand on his cheek, rubbing it softly, “Of course I will marry you Suku.” You smiled, as you pulled him into a crushing embrace. He slipped the diamond ring on your ring finger, lifted you up, and spun you around. Next thing you know, you see Choso, Yuuji, your friend Nobora, Uraume, Shoko, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, and Haibara standing there clapping, and the one right in front of all of them, is your dad and Grandpa Itadori. You hadn’t realized your dad had been following you guys the whole time.

You cried as you hugged everyone, and the woman taking photos, kept on with taking them.

You both got married 2 months later, in the same flower field. He had been building you and him a home, hence why he had been busier than ever. You remembered the first day you walked in, you fell so in love, it had the cottage feel you always dreamed off, a window in front of the kitchen sink, and big windows all around. You decorated it so comfortably, feeling like home in such a short time.

“SUUUUUUUUKUNA!” You groaned, “What doll?” He lifted his brow looking at you from the couch. You two had been married for 6 months— “I know what I want for our 6 month anniversary.” You smiled as you plopped down next to him. “Want?” He questions. “Since when do we give gifts on a 6 month anniversary?” He questioned. “We do!” You shook his shoulders. “Hmm this is a first I am hearing this, but okay… What is it that you want doll?” He chuckled. “A kitty!” You said with the biggest puppy dog eyes. “Ahhhh…. No.” He pinched your nose as he stood up to get himself some water. “But whyyyyyy?” You groaned. “Doll, you got chickens outside.” He said. “Yeah, but we got chickens so we could have fresh eggs.” You groaned. “And how is this kitty going to benefit us?” He questioned. “With its cuteness!” You stood up, pulling on his arm. “Pleaaaaase.” You whined. “Cuteness doesn’t do anything for me hon.” He said nonchalantly. “It did with me.” You pouted. “Yeah, but you give me something that does benefit.” He smirked, gripping your ass. You blushed brightly, you two were very intimate, but you were still very very shy, he always had to ease you into it, and was still working on you to open up more sexually. “Sukkkuuu.” You groaned, as he attached his lips to your neck, sucking lightly.

“No cat, but maybe a baby will do?” He softly nipped at your neck. “A kittyyyyyy.” You moaned, as he continued to suck on your neck. He lifted you up, hauling you to the bedroom, “I’ll think about it, but right now, what we need to think about, is you taking off these clothes.” He said as he lifted your shirt off, and shut the bedroom door.

A couple days later, you were doing dishes, and you heard your husband walking in. “Hey Suku, how was work?” You smiled, as you walked up to him, and kissed him. “Good.” He said with a toothy grin. “What’s so funny?” You questioned. All of a sudden, you see him pull a tuxedo kitten out of his jacket. “Sukuna!” You squealed. “Happy 6 month anniversary doll.” He kissed your forehead. “I got everything we will need for the rascal in the truck.” He pat your head, you were crying. “I love you so much!” You cried as you hugged your husband, and started loving on the new little kitty.

Your marriage was your own version of perfect, you 2 had been married now for 4 years, hardly fought, your husband doted on you. Showered you with fresh flowers every week, and made love to you nearly everyday. He always would have the excuse “I can tell you need me, let me help you.” But you were convinced, it was not you who needed it, but him. He was madly in love with you, and hated not touching you.

“Sukuna! I’m on my period, stop it.” You would groan. “I don’t care about that, let me love on you baby.” He would groan, stroking his achingly hard cock. “Noooooooooooo— oh…” You would moan, as he would bend you over, pulling your tampon right out, and slipping himself in. You did this every time, saying you didn’t want it, yet your body was pleading for him, but you always feared that because you were bleeding, he would be grossed out, he showed you time and time again, he loved you no matter what was going on, bleeding or no bleeding. “Fuck, you’re so wet and tight.” He would throw his head back in bliss. “Your period make’s it easier for me to slip right in.” He groaned, thrusting harder. “Oh Suku.” You softly would moan, your cheeks were a bright pink, and your ears were red as a tomato. “I don’t know why you try to fight me off.” He would chuckle, as he would thrust sharper, and pushing your head into the plush mattress. 8/10 times, sex with Sukuna was rough and fast. But the other times he wasn’t, he would gently caress you, and slow it down, a lot of those times, it was when you both would wake up on a Sunday morning, and he would slip himself in slowly, while rocking his hips, soft moans erupting from your lips. He knew your body like no other, you knew nothing before Sukuna, and then he brought you to even greater heights then you could ever imagine. You thought to yourself “maybe being with all those women was him practicing for me.”

Now here you were, present day, mad at your husband. “Hey, I love you.” He pointed at you, with a smirk. “I promise I will be home early today.” He said, as he opened the front door. “Okay fine, I love you too Suku.” You chuckled, feeling giddy over your husband.

Matter of a fact, he did come home early, but what he didn’t know, was that he was going to walk into a blood bath. He walked in, and could assume men had broken into your home, and taken your life away, as he stepped closer, dropping the lunch bag you had given him that morning with a note inside “I’m mad at you, but I love you. Be safe poopy head.” He saw your throat was slit, and you had stab wounds in your chest, whoever did this, left you for dead, no remorse, he saw your hand, you were clutching onto your phone, and your wedding ring was still on, “this wasn’t a mere robbery” he thought, as he stepped closer and saw your phone, his contact was pulled up. He dropped to his knees, screaming out in agony. He held your dead body, crying out, “WAKE UP! Baby wake up! Please!” He cried out. It was then he hears a squeak on the floor, he looks up, as blood now coated his clothes and face. The two men who had killed your wife were right in front of him, holding a knife, “Your wife put up quite a fight, but her screams were far to noisy, had to rip her vocal chords right out.” One of the men said, the other one chuckled. “I see why you kept her around though, despite her mouth, that pussy was the best I’ve had in a while.” He snickered. Sukuna’s eyes blazed red, and next thing he knew, he was ripping these men to shreds, cutting of their head with his finger, he didn’t know where this power came from, but something erupted in him, and he gave these men the worst death, far worse than yours.

By the end of the night, after butchering these men, he watched as blood dripped down his fingertips, and his heart was beating faster than he has ever felt. He grabbed your body, and taking you to the tub. He filled it up with water, placing your lifeless body in there. He then went back to the living room, and removed then mens bodies, and threw them in the backyard with the chickens. He saw a car headlight drive up, and when he went to look, it was Uraume.

“Sukuna?” They questioned out loud. He stood there covered in blood. “Sukuna… What happened, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and y/n. Where is y/n?” They said. He pointed to the backyard, “They killed her… They killed my wife… So I killed them.” He said in the most calmest voice. Uraume went to the back yard and saw the mens shredded bodies. “Sukuna… How… How did you…” They were standing there in awe, of how he butchered those men that way. “I-I… I have some power.” He said, as he demonstrated it, slicing one of the chickens in half. “I didn’t know… I could do that.” He said as he then lifted the chickens dead body with this new found power. “Oh Sukuna…” They pulled him into a hug. “Uraume, my wife is in the bathtub, I’m going to go bathe with her.” He said as he walked into the house, and stripped his clothes in the living room, and walked to the bathroom, where your lifeless body was at. He took the time to clean off the blood, and to dry you off, as he did himself. He dressed you in your wedding dress you had worn 4 years prior, and dug your grave that same night. He burned the bodies of the men who killed you, and as he laid you to rest in the dirt, he cried, kissed you, and began covering your body with dirt.

This was only the beginning of his life as a Curse.

I hope you enjoy! I’ve been working on this for a hot minute!

Next Chapter

[mentally-ill-vaquero]

O'Driscoll Sean MacGuire AU (Part Three)

It's been a while (I think?), and I suddenly got into the writing mood so here we are. hopefully this will be a bit longer than the previous two, @rosesvineyard

references to physical and emotional abuse (it's Colm, what do you expect?), depictions of PTSD including flashbacks and nightmares, references to alcoholism, and gaslighting (it's Dutch, what do you expect?) (also some willscuella kinda? implied mostly)

Sean didn't want to wake up. He didn't want to face another day in that basement, another day of hoping that today will be the day he'll be rescued.

Maybe Colm would visit him again today. It was a sick reminder that no matter how safe Sean thought he was--regardless of how far he ran--his past would haunt him until his dying breath.

He remembers how he hid a lot during those days. Beneath the wagons, holding his breath, and waiting for hours on end for Colm's sour mood to fade.

Climbing the trees, getting as high as possible without accidentally sitting on a weak branch, occasionally falling asleep; sometimes he'd fall out and nearly crack his head open, always making a racket, and that would make Colm even angrier.

He didn't beg, begging only made it worse, but the sensation of those gnarly fingers curling around his throat...Sean screamed, and screamed, and screamed, and scream---

'SEAN! WAKE UP! WAKE UP RIGHT NOW!'

Hands digging into his shoulders, shaking him, probably because he did something to piss them off, likely by simply existing; Sean continued to squeeze his eyes shut.

A pause. 'Sean,' the voice was a lot quieter, hushed. It was...calming. 'It's alright. We're not upset, just wake up. Please.'

His mind finally slowed down; Sean opened his eyes slightly, then fully as the world came into focus:

A tent. He was in a tent. It didn't belong to him, though.

He heard...crying?

Sean sat up suddenly, nearly colliding foreheads with whoever had shaken him awake. Following the sound of sniffling, his eyes landed on little Jackie, curled up in his mother's arms; he looked wary, as though Sean were some rapid animal.

Did he do that?

John awkwardly patted Sean's shoulder and immediately regretted it when the young Irishman flinched.

He was in John's tent, it seemed, and he slept on one bed whilst John, Abigail, and little Jackie slept on the other, presumably all cuddled up together like a real family.

Sean wished he and Karen could have something like that.

'Sorry, I'm...I'm sorry,' he slurred out, mind half still within the nightmares that were actually memories.

'It's alright,' Abigail murmured, likely fuming beneath the surface but not wanting to upset Jack further.

He saw the tent flaps flutter slightly, and Sean's heart began to race again, convinced his nightmare was some sort of premonition and here Colm was, ready to take him away.

But that fear was quickly dashed as Hosea peeked inside, 'Everyone alright? I heard yelling.'

'Yeah, we're fine,' John replied, sitting back down next to Abigail.

'Sean?'

'I'm...I'm...' he swallowed, yet his throat still felt clogged up, 'I need...some fresh air,' he choked out eventually. Sean tugged the blanket away from him; it and his clothes---the ones he's been wearing since Blackwater---were drenched in sweat.

Stumbling outside, Sean felt the cool air splash against his clammy face, and admittedly it soothed his nerves a bit. He glanced to his side and saw Hosea, staring with a concerned look plastered on his face, arms crossed; he was still wearing the clothes from last night.

Hadn't he slept a wink since Sean had gotten back? Was he too worked up and busy tending to Arthur to relax?

'We'll find you some new clothes,' Hosea stated, likely unsure of what to say otherwise. Sean nodded, barely listening.

He could feel the stares of the few awake gang members, probably woken up by his screaming. Who was he kidding? Of course, they were awake because of him.

Sean didn't think he could feel more embarrassed if he tried.

Without saying a word, he dragged his feet over to the nearest table, and sat down upon it; rubbing a hand roughly over his face, Sean stared out into water and contemplated whether he should fall back to sleep.

He eventually decided against it, not wanting to see Colm again for a very long time.

**************************************************

Morning manifested, and Sean found himself peeling his cheek from the wooden surface. Camp hadn't fully stirred yet, though Miss Grimshaw would soon change that.

She came striding over now, and gave Sean the same she always did. 'Mr MacGuire, you are absolutely filthy,' she pointed towards a barrel, 'Go wash your face, at the very least.'

Sean felt something tug at the edges of his mouth; he quickly realised it was a smile. He was...happy, actually feeling happiness, mixed with some relief that someone was treating him normally.

'Yes, Ma'am,' he replied, mockingly saluting her, causing Miss Grimshaw to scoff, though it wasn't genuine.

She was right about how dirty he was; he was near certain he smelled bad, although no one had said anything about it. He frowned: the O'Driscolls had thought so, too.

During the early days of his capture, he'd been dragged outside, and was essentially waterboarded as the endless buckets of freezing water were poured all over him; some bastard had grabbed a bar of soap meant for the horses and scrubbed his greasy hair with it.

He'd been shaking and shivering, and caught a cold that went untreated; it took weeks for his clothes to lose their dampness.

Sean dragged himself back to the present and decided to follow Miss Grimshaw's orders. The developing warmth of the sun on his pale skin was a comforting feeling, a reminder that he had escaped and was still alive, despite everything.

Despite Colm, despite...Dutch.

Sean avoided the inevitable confrontation as much as he could until it became ridiculous: he washed his face, and when he went to John's tent---wanting to make his bed, as a weak apology for almost giving them all heart attacks last night---he found a folded pile of clothes, ones that smelled of cleanliness, which was a miracle given how they lifestyle they lived.

And there were shoes included. They weren't the most fancy---and Sean would have hated if they were---and they'd clearly been passed down from Arthur, but after being forced barefoot for so long, he couldn't be happier.

Still, he doubted that anything would be the same as it was before, no matter how much he, and everyone else, pretended otherwise.

Not that they weren't pretending very well to begin with.

He thought Lenny would be easier to talk to than anyone else, considering he lost Jenny, but Sean quickly learned he was very wrong. Lenny didn't address it, pretending as though Sean hadn't been missing for the last few months; he referenced things that had occurred during his absence, and all Sean could do was stare blankly in response.

Charles was out hunting (since Arthur was out cold for the time being), which didn't change much; the guy wasn't much of a talker to begin with, but any silence was better than attempted pity.

Javier and Bill were...different. More occupied in each other, as of late. Definitely more than before Blackwater. Sean couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he could see a bit of himself and Karen in them. Even if it was something as shallow as an alcoholic and an immigrant coming together in an unexpected union.

Regardless, Sean felt like a fish out of water wherever he went, even among those he considered family.

And Karen? Sleeping off her hangover, and he couldn't find it in himself to disturb her.

Sean signed to himself, and dragged his being over to Dutch's tent.

'Hey, Dutch,' Sean greeted coldly, his own tone startling him. That didn't matter, though; he needed to know if what Karen said last night was true, or was just another drunken ramble.

'Sean! Didn't get a chance to talk to you last night.' Dutch threw his cigar to the side, and placed what was meant to be a comforting hand on Sean's shoulder.

Sean didn't dare flinch away from it.

'How are you feeling? You do look a little...unwell.' Dutch finished eventually. 'Unwell' was an understatement, but Sean held his tongue.

'I'm fine.' he attempted to make his voice neutral because there was no way he could make it positive in the slightest, 'Actually I was hoping I could talk to you,' he perked over Dutch's shoulder and saw Molly, sitting by herself, probably contemplating her life choices, 'Privately,' Sean nearly gritted out.

Dutch hardly blinks. 'Of course,' and ejects Molly out of the tent. Molly, clearly unhappy, stalks past Sean, very likely wishing Sean had never returned. In any other event, he'd feel happy she was getting some comeuppance, but now wasn't the time to revel in it.

Closing the tent flaps, flooding the tent in darkness, Sean regrets his decision. But he needs to know.

'Karen, uh, last night, she--'

'Oh, yes. Karen,' Dutch's voice seemed to be laced with sympathy, 'She was distraught when she learned of your fate, as were the rest of us. Drinking day and night, started saying the most preposterous things. She told Miss Grimshaw she was pregnant! Could you imagine?' Dutch chuckled.

That...caught Sean off guard. Karen had always had issues with alcohol, but usually only drank during the evening, and even then not enough to act the way Dutch was proposing she was.

'Oh, well, this is all a misunderstanding, then...' Sean mumured.

'What is?' Dutch's posture straightened slightly.

'Uh...' Should he tell him? No choice now, 'Last night, Karen said...you left me...didn't look for...me.' he trailed off, voice getting quieter and quieter. It all sounded so ridiculous now.

'Sean,' Dutch's voice made waves of guilt crash over the Irishman until it was suffocating, 'Do you really think I'd leave you---leave anyone of you---behind? Have I ever demonstrated such behaviour?'

Where's Mac, then?

'No,' Sean stared at Dutch's shoes, 'I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry for doubting you.'

This was not Sean at all; where the hell was this coming from?

'It's alright. I know it all must have seen...' Dutch gestured towards the air, looking for the right words. 'Hopeless,' he finally decided, 'especially with Colm as your captor. Horrible man.'

There was a pause, then Dutch said, 'I do find it odd, however,' he didn't elaborate, and Sean fell for the bait.

'What's odd?' Sean glanced upwards slightly.

'Why Colm would take you of all people, when someone like John or Arthur or Javier were right there. Why take someone, someone so random and---no offense here, Sean---insignificant, in the grand scheme of things.'

Sean didn't like where this was going.

'Er, bad luck, I guess?' Sean pretended to act nonchalant, but suddenly felt brave, 'Too bad I didn't have the time to ask.'

Dutch smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. It was in rare moments like this that Sean remembered that Dutch wasn't just some leader with high charisma; he'd murdered people, watched as the life drained from the eyes of innocents, could kill a man and not let it weigh upon his mind.

'Well, Sean,' Dutch turned and opened the tent flaps, letting the sun flood inside, 'I hope your questions have been answered, and that you'll have more faith in me in the future.'

'Of course, Dutch,' Sean replied, and he knew the conversation was over. He took a step back, a second, then turned and stepped outside; he only allowed himself to breathe when the tent flaps closed behind him.

Fuck.

He felt even more uncertain than before.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sean could see something moving. When he forced his mind to focus on it---interrupting it from spiralling downwards once again---and realized it was that O'Driscoll.

Kieran Duffy.

Hands trembling, Sean stalked towards him.

'Hey, come over here!'

Kieran's head shot up, like a frightened rabbit. Still, he followed the order and scurried closer.

Not close enough, though.

'Come over here, O'Driscoll.' That name felt like a taste he'd never wash out.

'You know, I ain't no O'Driscoll.' he retorted, coming closer anyway.

He was about the same height, when he stood up straighter; usually he was slumped over in some way. Same worn jacket, just like the one Colm had given him all those years ago...

Kieran was on the ground; Sean's forehead hurt. No blood spurting down that O'Driscoll's face, though. Shame.

'Our old neighbour back in Donegal was called O'Driscoll. And we couldn't stand him neither.' A complete lie. Except the utter resentment part.

Kieran groaned, and Sean could see a bruise forming on the O'Driscoll's face. Good.

Sean began to walk away. Good except he didn't feel any better.

[deardjarin]

pretend you hate me (i know you don’t)

miguel o’hara x f!reader

miguel is a grouch. you’re pissed off.

words: 2.2k

rating: explicit

warnings: rough sex, degradation kink, oral sex (f and m recieving), vaginal sex

a/n: i told myself i would NOT fall victim to miguel but i did. 

⋆⭑✦⭑⋆

You’ve never met anyone grumpier than Miguel O’Hara. 

You understand, to an extent, but good god nothing can make him remotely relaxed. You’ve gotten used to his stone-cold demeanor, but it still annoys you. It’s one of those days again, when Miguel is so caught up in his own work that he won’t listen to anything you say.

“You’re being an asshole, Miguel.” 

Miguel doesn’t say anything, just continues to angrily punch at the various buttons on the computer. You sigh, louder than you meant to, and Miguel shoots you a glance in response. 

“Come on, Mig, have a conversation like a normal person. Whatever you’re doing cannot be so important-“

“Enough,” He snaps, finally turning away from the various screens to look at you. His blood red eyes bore into your skin, and his jaw clenches. You don’t say anything for a moment, stunned into silence, but you decide to keep pushing, because you’ve had enough of Miguel O’Hara. 

“What is your problem?” You ask sharply, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re always in some kind of mood. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile.” 

Miguel raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t move a muscle otherwise. Technically you have seen him smile; moments where he doesn’t think you’re watching, a shimmer of admiration crossing his face and his fangs peeking out of his lips. But you’d never tell him that, never give him the satisfaction of knowing you care. 

“I don’t have time for this,” He says, your name rolling off his tongue in annoyance. “I have to worry about every single universe, every single Spider-Man. Not you.” 

Your blood boils; you’ve had enough of his self-righteous bullshit. 

“Fuck off, O’Hara,” You growl, stepping towards him. He tenses as you point at him, then lightly punch his chest in anger. “Nobody wants to watch you wallow in your own loneliness or whatever. Grow up.”  

You both fall silent after that, only your heavy breaths and the soft beeping of various technology filling the air. Something shifts between you two, just for a moment, Miguel’s face shifting into something more amused. Suddenly, he grabs your wrist and twists you backwards, pulling you flush against his chest. For a second you swear you can feel something hard pressing against your lower back. 

“Do you know what the problem is?” He growls, his hot breath hitting the shell of your ear. “I’ve got all this pent up stress, and no way to get rid of it.” 

Your breath catches in your throat before Miguel releases you, pushing you away from him and walking off. You’re frozen in place, his touch burning against your skin. But you push on, not wanting him to win. 

“Miguel!” You shout, unable to keep up with his long strides. “Just, fucking—don’t you run away!” 

You almost catch up to him, but he turns on his heels and stops abruptly, making you run into his chest with a huff. You push your hair out of your face, gearing up another insult to hurl at him to keep him here, keep him listening—

Miguel grabs your face in his hands and kisses you. 

You freeze once more against the rough press of his lips. Miguel pulls back, looking slightly alarmed, mumbling something about how he’s sorry and he shouldn’t have done that. 

“Fuck you,” You breathe with a smile before pulling him back down and kissing him again. Miguel hesitated before roughly grabbing your hair and pushing his tongue in your mouth. Grasping onto his broad shoulders, the two of you kiss heatedly and sloppily. 

“Baby,” Miguel groans when you both pull apart. 

“Are you going to take me somewhere, or fuck me right here?” You ask playfully, chest heaving as you catch your breath. 

Miguel grins devilishly.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Having an audience watching me put you in your place,” He growls, jerking his hips forward so his clothed cock rubs against you. Your stomach flutters and your cunt clenches around nothing. 

“Asshole,” You spit, and in a blink, Miguel wraps his arms around your waist and throws you over his shoulder. You gasp, scrambling to find purchase anywhere to steady yourself as Miguel walks off. 

You really hope you don’t cross paths with any of the many, many Spider-People in HQ, but as Miguel approaches his private quarters, your worries are quelled. 

Miguel tosses you on his bed as the door slides closed behind him, and for good measure, he shoots webs across the seal. You whine softly, thinking about all the other things he could do with them. Would he web your wrists to the wall so you couldn’t move? Would he let you web him down, so you could ride his cock torturously?

You’re pulled from your thoughts as Miguel slowly approaches the edge of the bed, staring you down. The low lighting casts his face in shadow, only the glow of his red eyes visible. You half expect him to pull you back up and push you down to your knees, but instead he lowers himself to the ground. His fingers ghost over your clothed cunt against the fabric of your suit. 

“Take this fucking suit off,” He orders, and you fumble with the zipper of your spider suit, Miguel watching but not helping. You kick the fabric off, leaving your cunt exposed to the cool air, and you spread your legs instinctively.

Satisfied, Miguel drags two fingers through your slick folds, making your hips jump. 

“Soaked,” He mumbles, pulling his hand away and sticking his fingers in his mouth, tasting you. “I knew; I could smell you.”

“Bullshit,” You retort, but you’re cut short by Miguel’s mouth connecting with your cunt. 

He eats you out like a man starved. He has no shame; he moans as he sucks on your clit, burying his face between your legs. You have nothing smart to say after that. You simply moan and babble his name, tugging on his thick brown hair. He pulls away for a moment, but you don’t let him go very far as you keep him close with your legs. He fumbles with the watch on his wrist and you watch as his suit disappears, and he goes back to work.

“Oh, Miguel,” You moan, twisting your free hand in the sheets of the bed. You feel him smirk against your pussy. You throw your head back when you hear the soft sounds of him jerking his cock. “Oh, fuck, Mi-guel—I’m going to cum—“

You cum with a cry, thighs shaking as you jerk your cunt against Miguel’s mouth. Once you finish, he pulls away, licking his lips and then wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Shit,” You groan, adjusting yourself so you're sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Finally got you to shut up?” Miguel asks, voice rough. You narrow your eyes, but your expression changes as the man stands up. His cock is huge; thick and long and leaking drops of precum. His balls hang heavy between his thighs, swollen and ready for release. You reach out, splaying your hand against his abs, feeling the thick hair that leads to his crotch. Miguel leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, and the sudden tenderness of it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Now get your mouth on my cock,” He orders, his large hand moving to your throat, pulling you down to his length. You drag your lips down, only lightly touching him, and you hear a deep rumble come from his chest. Your eyes flutter shut as you take him in your mouth, running your tongue along the underside of his cock. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Miguel groans, tugging on your hair once more. Your jaw aches from the stretch. Miguel begins shallowly thrusting into your mouth, making you gag a little bit against the force. “I knew you’d be a slut. Ever since I saw you step through that portal, I imagined you on your knees for me.” 

Your eyes sting with tears as you pull off his cock with a pop. You feel the sharp press of nails against the nape of your neck. Miguel stares down at you, brows furrowed. You wrap your hand around his length, jerking it slowly as spit drips down your chin. 

“Enough of the chit-chat,” You reply, smearing a bead of precum on the head of his dick. “Are you going to keep talking shit or actually fuck me like a real man?”

That seems to relight the aggression in Miguel, as he surges forward and attacks you with his mouth. He covers your body with his, kissing down the side of your neck. You moan as he sucks bruises on your sensitive skin, shivering when the points of his fangs prick your neck. You wonder what would happen if he actually bit you, but you quickly lose the thought when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples. 

“You dick!” You shout, and Miguel barks out a laugh as he pulls away. His eyelids are heavy as he rakes his gaze over your body, admiring his work. Your chest tightens with a new feeling–something foreign, and a little bit scary. 

Miguel roughly grasps your thighs, parting them and exposing your cunt. He jerks his cock once, twice, before tapping it against your clit. You shudder, mumbling a curse before Miguel sinks inside. He groans loudly, chest heaving as he bottoms out. 

“You, fuck–Miguel,” You breathe. Miguel kisses the edge of your jaw lightly, and you can’t help but cup the side of his face, dragging the tips of your fingers over the deep scar across his cheek. You feel your eyes fill with tears, and you don’t know why, and that scares you. Miguel wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight to his chest before beginning to thrust into you. 

“Fuckin’ sweet pussy, tight pussy,” He groans into your ear, panting with exertion. You clench around his length, moaning as he drags against your walls. He speeds his thrusts up, grunting with each push into your cunt. You get lost in the sensation of being filled, of being completely smothered by Miguel’s body weight. You alternate between screwing your eyes shut and staring at the ceiling, but Miguel pulls away enough to stare straight into your eyes. 

“Look at me,” He demands, and you do, drinking in the sight of his pure arousal.

You let yourself be manhandled by him; he pulls out, pushing you onto your side and outstretching your right leg. You’re about to ask what he’s doing, but he lies down behind you and sinks his cock back into your pussy. You moan loudly, jerking your hips and pressing your ass back against him. Miguel chuckles darkly and grabs the flesh of your ass, altering his thrusts to hit somewhere deep inside you. 

“Will you let me cum inside you?” He asks, a little breathless, kissing and nipping your shoulder. “I bet you’d like that, filling your pussy up with my cum.”

“Yes, fuck yes,” You respond, the pit of your stomach twisting with your approaching orgasm. Miguel speeds up his thrusts, shoving his hand between your legs. His thick fingers rub against your clit, bringing you closer to your release. 

Miguel moans your name into your ear before his thrusts falter, cock twitching as he spills his load into you. You’re quick to follow, your orgasm washing over you as Miguel holds you close. You both take a few moments to catch your breath, the room silent. 

“Feeling any better?” You ask teasingly, reaching between your legs to give Miguel’s balls a squeeze. He grunts and bites your shoulder in retaliation.

You let Miguel’s softening cock slip out of you, his cum smearing across your thighs. You twist in his arms so you are face to face with the man, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He looks…unsure. Like something is still on his mind.

“Miguel,” You say softly, trailing your fingers down his muscular back. “You can’t keep everything to yourself. It’s causing you way more stress than necessary.” “I…” He starts, trailing off as he avoids your gaze. His voice drops lower, becomes softer. “I love you.”

You freeze, your heartbeat speeding up. You try to say something, anything, but you can’t find the words.

“You…didn’t notice,” Miguel says, the corner of his mouth twisting up in a smile. 

You sit up suddenly, laughing softly.

“Of course I never noticed!” You exclaim, but your voice is void of any real annoyance. “You’re grouchy all the time. How was I supposed to know?”

Miguel finally meets your gaze, the corner of his eyes crinkling with a smile. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” You purr, cradling Miguel’s face with both of your hands. 

“Then I’ll just look at your tits instead,” He quips, reaching up and squeezing your breasts in his hands. 

“Miguel,” You scold, but allow yourself to be pulled down into his embrace. You rest your head on his bare chest. The two of you stay there for a while, just listening to the gentle breaths of each other. After a while, you feel a familiar hardness against the inside of your thigh.

“Ready for round two?”

“Insatiable.”

[dokurochan]

rough snippet of a kbms fic i've been working on

He opened the door to a silver mop of hair peeking from behind an alarming amount of paper bags.

“Mithrun? What are you doing here this late?”

“Dinner.”

Before Kabru could reply, he had already started to tumble his way in; their hips bumped as he crossed the entryway, barely dodging a shelf on his way to the kitchen. A brown scarf was messily tied around his neck, as if worn in a hurry, and there were some leaves stuck to his burgundy tunic. Kabru chose to attend to those first, picking them out while Mithrun put down the bags on the kitchen counter. He let the taller man unwrap his scarf without a comment, nose and ears slightly red from the cold.

They unloaded the groceries together: vegetables, some fancy cheeses and multiple cuts of meat—a concerning amount, some of which he did not recognize—alongside a bottle of wine Kabru knew to be worth more than a month’s salary.

“Fond of alcohol, Captain?” he asked, a light cheekiness to it.

“Used to be,” he was staring holes into some green peppers. “but I was quite the terrible drunk.”

Kabru held them gingerly, the tips of his fingers brushing the elf’s knuckles as he leaned down, encouraging Mithrun to look back at him. He felt his lips quirk into a smile once their eyes met. “Should I prepare myself, then? I can hold my alcohol quite well, you know.”

The smile Mithrun graced him with was smaller, but warm enough to make his good eye crinkle just a bit. “So I’ve heard, among other things—” Kabru’s eyebrow twitched. “such as you having used none of your rest days since you became Yaad’s assistant.”

Ah, so that’s what this was about. It didn't come as a surprise that he was kept informed about Kabru's activities, but it was with disappointment that he realized he had failed to consider how Mithrun would feel about it. Was that callous of him? They each had a job they were devoted to in a deeply personal manner; that it would take priority over everything else was a mutually understood fact they had come to terms with, as much as the distance still managed to knit a mantle of longing over him. A tallman's weakness, he’d call it, if he were in a more self-deprecating mood—as it was, though, it seemed fair to say that missing his partner was only natural. Did that also apply to Mithrun? Was it cruel to wonder otherwise?

He leaned his weight on the hand resting on the kitchen table, head tilted in thought. “Yes, that’s right. The first few years of a kingdom are the most fragile, and while Melini holds a considerable amount of supporters among the short-lived races, there are way too many variables that could lead us to ruin even if we do everything right—” his mind chose to bring up a memory of Laios sweating his way through a particularly tense meeting, and an exasperated sigh broke free before he could reel it in. “—and believe me, that’s very much not the case. I’m merely an assistant myself, and a student at that; Yaad’s tutelage has been a blessing, and I’m confident that I can help fill in the gaps in his knowledge of modern times, but…”

Mithrun didn’t so much as move, an intensity in his expression letting him know he was paying complete attention.

“…It’s a lot. I can’t let myself dwell on it too hard if I want to be useful,” he rubbed his eyes, suddenly hyperaware of the days worth of sleep he had been skipping. “but sometimes— sometimes I wonder if that will be enough. My best, I mean. So I can’t just— There will be plenty of rest once it doesn’t feel like the floor is about to crumble under us at any minute."

It felt odd, voicing his concerns outloud. He had unintentionally grown accustomed to it in Mithrun’s presence, a leftover from their dungeon days— and yet he couldn’t claim to be entirely comfortable with it, though he failed to identify exactly where the unease came from. His attention shifted to Mithrun instead, strangely soothed under his deliberating eye, and it was only once a fairy was summoned that alarms started ringing in his head.

“Fleki,” Mithrun’s voice seemed to resonate across the room, an edge to it Kabru hadn’t heard since the time they explored the dungeon together. “Have you met with Laios yet?”

“Been waiting for him to show up. Some merchant is keeping him busy, apparently,” There was the slightest background noise when she spoke. “Something about union problems?”

Kabru felt sweat starting to run down his back, shirt sticking to his skin.

“Just make sure to tell him what we talked about.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

The fairy hung up with a little squeak, still squished in Mithrun’s grip as Kabru tried to find his voice. It came out slightly high pitched: “What was that all about?”

That got the other man to fully face him, expression unreadable. “You’re taking a break. I asked her to let Laios know you’ll be absent for the next two weeks.”

Oh, this was becoming an absolute nightmare. Thoughts started to race as he rubbed his hands on his pants, an old nervous trick that hadn't shown up in a while. “What? No, Mithrun, that’s—”

Had he not been listening after all? Surely he understood the severity of what they were dealing with? “I really appreciate you caring about me, but I can’t, not right now. I will rest, I promise, once—”

“You will,” He gave the fairy one last squeeze before it fizzled out, and Kabru felt as if it was his own neck in his lover's death-grip. “starting from today. I’ll cook, so go clean up that mess.”

[haylee-bb]

Kalijah Sneak Peek!

These are some excerpts from an upcoming chapter in my Kalijah fic Redamacy! I'm posting this for my greatest source of Kalijah inspiration @umaficwriter since without their edits, I never would've been able to write a halfway decent story for these two.

Link to the fic(pls ignore how bad chapter 3 is😭) https://archiveofourown.org/works/53393533

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katerina crossed her arms with a scowl. “Well I'm so glad that they've finally deemed me worthy of tolerance, but that doesn't mean I'm eager to play house. Honestly, Elijah, did you expect us all to become one big happy family?”

Realistically, no, but as always, he had foolishly, idiotically, hoped that somehow it would all come together in the end and he could have it all. Truly, he was a selfish creature.

Reading the truth in his eyes, Katerina's face softened, and she stepped closer to him again, smoothing the creases in his brow and soothing him with her touch.

Her tone was gentler, but no less honest when she spoke again. “I could deal with Rebekah, but Klaus took everything from me. I won't plot against him, but I'll always hate him. It's not fair of you to ask otherwise.”

Elijah sighed. Of course, she was right, and he knew that. He would never expect so much from her. It was just that he wished so much for better, perfect circumstances, but theirs was a world far from perfect.

He leant his forehead against hers, lightly brushing their noses until she smiled. “I understand, Любов моя. It was never my intention to suggest such a thing. I just don't want to be apart from you.”

“So don't be,” she whispered against his lips, the move so enticing he had to kiss her.

After a moment, he pulled away enough that he could see her. She was still smiling slightly, and it brightened his mood.

“Go with your siblings to New Orleans, take care of your family, and once everything is settled, give me a call. We'll go back to Willoughby, or we can pick somewhere new. Doesn't matter.”

He stared into her eyes, searching them desperately for signs of deceit. “You would wait? While I was gone, you would wait for my return?”

Katerina placed a hand on his face, tenderly stroking his cheekbone. “I love you, Elijah. I'll love you while you're gone, and I'll love you even more if you come back.”

Elijah pulled her into a deep kiss, wrapping an arm around her waist to press her as close as possible and attempting to pour his devotion into her through touch alone. He only separated from a breathless Katerina just enough to speak a promise against her lips.

“I will always come back to you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I made them a promise that I would stand by their side and protect her and the child. Niklaus is playing a dangerous game. One misstep and everything will be lost. I cannot let that happen. They need me.”

Katerina pulled her hand from his grip. “And what about your promise to me? What about us? What about you? What do you want, Elijah?”

His own eyes were tearing up as he looked at her helplessly. “You know I want nothing more than to be with you. I love you.”

She squeezed her eyes closed like she couldn't bear to look at him, her lips, normally so full of color, were pressed so tightly together they were white. He knew she was struggling to maintain her composure, and he could do nothing but watch.

When she opened her eyes, they were resigned. The look on her face was similar to when Kol had said he could no longer help her. It was disappointed acceptance, the heartbreaking stare of someone failed far too often. He was sure nothing alive had ever felt as wretched inside as he did while meeting that stare.

“I know. That's what's so sad, Elijah. You love me, just not enough.”

“I-”

“You are devoted to a fault. You've given yourself entirely to your family, and there's no room for anything else. That's not how I want to be loved. I won't spend forever coming second to Klaus.”

Like always, she unapologetically forced him to stare his greatest flaws in the face, made him study them in great detail until he had a new understanding of some fundamental truth of himself. However, this time, knowing wasn't enough to make a difference. He wanted to say he would change, that he would leave Niklaus to live his life however he chose and put his love for Katerina first the way she deserved, but he couldn't make that promise. He couldn't fully let her go either.

“Forever is a long time, my Katerina. I may not be able to give you what you deserve now, but I still intend to keep my vows. I will come back to you. It may take time, but even though I'm not by your side, I will never leave you.”

Katerina took a deep breath, blinking away gathering tears stubbornly. She linked her hand with his again.

“You do that, and I'll stand by what I said too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His gaze swept over her body, drinking in every detail of her beloved form before settling on her fathomless eyes.

“I don't think I can say goodbye,” he choked out around the swell of despair in his throat.

Her face crumpled, and she breathed a watery sigh before stepping closer to him. She stroked over his brow with soft fingertips, looking at him with so much adoration and heartbreak.

“Close your eyes,” she whispered.

He did what she said without thought and felt the heavenly sensation of her plush lips against his. The kiss was soft, tender, a loving caress, and a promise of more. It lingered like a last kiss but held the hope of a first.

Elijah reached to touch her, wind an arm around her waist, and never let her go, but his hand cut through thin air. He opened his eyes, and she was gone, the press of her against his skin imprinting itself into the familiar places it once called home.

He blinked a tear from his eye, feeling it trail down his cheek as he stared at the empty space she just occupied and reacquainted himself with her ghost.

[internals1ut]

rui and edward smutty headcanons 👀 (i got interested with you think ed is a bottom since most think that he'd top, but honestly? i agree with you there― edward just has that 'whiny and dramatic bottom' agenda going on XD)

I SAVED THROUGH BEST FOR LAST THAT WAS IN MY INBOX BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN WAITING TO FINALLY TALK ON THEM!!!!!

18+/nsfw/minors gtfo

Edward might have top before but now he got to the point he done everything (or anyone) at least once to the point nothing surprises him anymore. He got lazy and doesn't want to put in the effort anymore.

Everyone can argue who is the biggest slut in the cast ( it's Jiro) but everyone can agree Edward is some different level of slut. The man got no shame, he has lived for the longest time, he has seen it all.

Hell, I can see Edward going to a low class anomaly and having sex with them to keep that excitement.

The first time he and Rui did anything together, they honestly wanted to try what they could and can't do with Rui's reaper curse. The first time. Rui slipped in and they both stayed still before Edward peeked down and just started to laugh "Wow now my pussy is shriveling up"~ Rui let out the most high pitch scream. It was absolutely horrifying. But it healed up in no time.

Rui often fingers Edward with his gloves and let's say he got some powerful fingers and he is proud of it.

Since Rui can't really touch Edward at all otherwise his body starts to fall apart, they have a shit ton of toys in Edward's room.

Rui has been there when Edward has sex with the anomalies in the school. How dare a monster make his vampire feel good?

There is some guilt to Rui, he does try and encourage Edward to go and find someone to actually have sex with him. Edward could have let anyone else hit , but he is more fond of Rui to let anyone take his number one spot.

NOW THE MOMENT RUI GETS THAT CURSE LIFTED, IT ISN'T A HI AND HELLO OR A HOW ARE YOU ----- It's Rui taking Edward to a random room to have sex finally. Finally, Rui can release the sexual frustration that Edward has been causing.

Those being, lots and lots of nudes. Edward will often mess with Rui be like "look what you can't touch ;)"...... Well once the curse is lifted, he is just a satisfied vampire.

Edward is into everything. He saw it all, any kinks you think Rui will have, Edward will do it with him.

Edward will drink blood during sex.the only blood he doesn't drink during it is Rui. I'm assuming with the curse Rui's blood could be like poison. It won't kill Edward but it will hurt a lot that will ruin the sexy mood.

Edward is needy almost all the time, he can hide it, but when he can get alone with Rui he will take his gloved hands into his pants. "Rui.. Can't you feel the dampness of it.. Come on... Please".

Rui is left with two options... He can work and make money, or he can handle the bloodsucker. Choices... Choices....

Ed going to have to wait.

Edward is the guy who will call his hole a man pussy and his dick a skinned banana..... Both words Rui can't stand to hear.

Edward: now your reaper curse is gone, there is a Rhythm I want you to try.

Rui: What is that?

Edward :

Feel free to come join the Tokyo debunker server, linked on @internalscream1ng carrd

[streets-in-paradise]

Of Bronze and Gold - (Platonic) Agamemnon x Daughter!Reader

Troy (2004) Oneshot

Warnings: Agamemnon's parenting ( although he is a bit soft here)

Summary: Talks about a secret weapon leave the mycenaean king in an unusual position having to explain himself to the curious princess sneaking to spy on his war council.

Note: Based on my Achilles x Mycenaean Princess!Reader series. This is a scene i think about recurrently, despite there is no good spot in it to include it because it belongs to a past way before the actions of the fic take place. ( As it is implied, she is arround 10-12 when Achilles is a young lad call to fight for the first time under Agamemnon's command.)

In the spirit of my celebration, I decided to write it down and show it to you.

Tag: @zoegarfield @lovelybaka

The celebration of councils was a mere formality in Mycenae, since King Agamemnon would always do his will. The next step in his planning for conquests didn't require much intervention of the local noblemen, so the meeting became more of a space for surface level discussion apparenting transparency.

Everything depended of Odysseus, but the eldest son of Atreus trusted in his capacity for the mission he entrusted him. His trickery would handle it, and he had good proof of that in home observing the fast work in charming his own daughter.

Young enough to still be considered a child, but not exactly a little girl anymore, the signs of her growth were showing on the sudden will to mind on his business.

Once the throne room got emptied of his men she walked in with the silent steps of a cat, only to end up discovered giving a peek on the map extended on a table near the seat of the king.

" I don't recall to have ordered you shall be instructed in cartography. "

The girl turned back inmediately and observed the severe semblant of the king as if she tried to read his mood in order to adapt her excuse.

" Nestor taught me anyways, he said reading maps is a valuable skill even if I will never be the one leading a ship or planning how to take our men to battle. Men who do those things would value my understandment of their ways. "

He gave her a half a smile. Less out of love or endearment, and more like an ironical taunt.

" You were eavesdropping again."

The tone was calm, but not for that she stopped expecting traces of fury.

Denying her guilt would have only made it worse.

" They were speaking of a secret weapon you are about to adquire that would change the course of war … "

Agamemnon was willing to indulge her curiosity only because it flattered him.

" Not just one, every single war in our lifetime. If rumours turn out to be true, Greece will bow to me. "

Explanations confused her even more, since her father spoke as if he had just stolen the lightning bolt of Zeus.

" What kind of weapon shall do such thing? "

He was definitely on a good mood, or otherwise the sharing would have stopped there.

" An invincible soldier, one man worth for an army that shall fight for me. The lad is hard to convince, but I have someone working on that. "

She had a vague idea of who that person could be. If a master of persuasion was needed, her father would have only called for him.

The possibility for a visit of Odysseus, friend of the family she actually considered a friend, was enough to keep her interested.

" Will he deliver the lad to us? At very least to join our army, he has to swear loyalty to you."

The king easily spotted where the ask was coming from.

" Achilles would never swear to submit, but I don't need that in order to unleash him upon the ones resisting against my power. "

He gave a few steps closer in her direction. For an instant, she doubted if he tried to reach out, but it was only to take away the map.

" Don't expect any visitors, I will be leaving for war and meeting them there. "

The answer disencouraged her for obvious reasons: she hoped to see the ithacan soon.

" Such a shame, the bright of the city could have impressed him into commitment. I can't imagine a young hero that wouldn't seek consecration here. "

What she seeked was to trick her father into thinking a visit was the best idea, simply so her friend would be circunstantially forced to return with the warrior.

However, the argumentation wouldn't be completed without a justification proper of the image of her the king liked to keep in his mind. Some shallow reason he could easily attribute to an attention seeking girl.

" Besides, boys visiting means plenty of gifts for me. Their fathers allways want them to flatter me hoping I would be their wife someday and your riches would engross their wealth. "

Wrong guess; Agamemnon showed open disdain for the motive.

" It would not be that sort of visit: he is a common orphan with no roots, no flag, and no respect for anyone. His lack of bonds make him the perfect weapon, since there is nothing standing in the way and he has no one to live for."

The description distracted her of her selfish reasons, making her feel a hard to translate unease for the utilitary vision of her father regarding someone whose life sounded like a sad tale to her.

" … But if we encourage him, he would get somewhere to belong in and perhaps you would win his loyalty. "

" He will belong in my army. " Agamemnon cutted her off terminantly. " And you will get to see Odysseus in another ocassion."

A breach of curiosity was briefly opened through his evasive attitude.

" I like visitors of all kinds, they bring news and more life to the palace. "

Agamemnon didn't remain skeptical of her said and felt for once inclined to explain his strange reaction.

" You are still a child, not yet a young maiden, but I wouldn't accept the gifts that lad could bring for you if that would be the case. He is made of bronze, metal born of mixing from where weapons are made. Sharp edge of the blade that I will wield to conquer the world."

To her great surprise, her father pressed a soft kiss on the top of her forehead.

" And you, my child, are made of gold. Pure metal, absent of any corruption, measure of wealth and beauty. "

" Like the golden statues on the palace of King Midas. " She recalled, allmost in a whisper, lacking of trust for the praise. " Curse of greed, inhuman existence. "

Her reaction dissapointed him a bit, while at the same time being quite typical.

" Don't try to outsmart me, you know it upsets me. "

The limit was clearly settled and so, she tried to fix it with more flattery.

" Would you show me the spots on the map that already belong to you? "