#'i can't fight this fight now. pull the blanket tight now.' I'm going to be sick. horrible. twisted. why.

[featherymainffins]

The Line is a genuinely amazing song but I feel like it was created for incredibly evil purposes and nothing but evil purposes. Song engineered in a lab specifically for causing harm.

[rieamena]

pinky promise

childhood friends w/ kenji sato

you and kenji met as kids when you moved into his neighborhood. from the moment you first exchanged shy hellos, you clicked in a way that was natural, like two puzzle pieces falling perfectly into place. you spent countless afternoons together—racing bikes down the street, sharing snacks, and turning the world into your own adventure. whether it was building forts out of blankets or pretending to be explorers in the nearby woods, your friendship was pure and unbreakable

you both lay in the grass, staring up at the sky as clouds drifted lazily overhead. the sun warmed your skin as you pointed out shapes in the clouds—a dragon, a ship, a heart, ultraman. there was a comfortable silence between you, a shared understanding that didn’t need words. but kenji, usually full of energy and jokes, was unusually quiet, his brows furrowed like he was deep in thought

finally, he turned to you with an expression so serious it caught you off guard. "you know," he began, his voice soft but determined, "when we grow up, i’m gonna marry you."

you blinked in surprise. his declaration was so straightforward, so sure, that it made your heart skip a beat even at that young age. you laughed, brushing it off with a playful shove. "you’re silly, ken! we’re just kids,"

but he wasn't laughing. he just nodded, like he was making a solemn vow. "i’m serious. one day, when we’re older, i’m going to marry you. promise." he held out his pinky, waiting for you to link yours with his

with a little roll of your eyes and a smile, you hooked your pinky with his. "promise," you repeated, still thinking it was just one of those silly things kids say. but something about the way kenji looked at you in that moment made you feel warm inside, like he truly meant every word

tears brimmed in your eyes as you stood in front of kenji, your voice cracking. "kenji?! what do you mean?" you demanded, wiping away the tears you couldn’t stop. he stared at the ground, shuffling his feet, unable to meet your gaze

"i'm sorry," he choked, his voice trembling. "mama says we're going to the states."

kenji's hands balled into fists at his sides, and you could see his jaw tighten. he was always the strong one, the one who never cried, but in that moment, you could see the hurt reflected in his eyes

"when will you come back?" you asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper

"i... i don't know," he replied, your voice wavering. "maybe never."

kenji’s brows furrowed, his lips pressing together in a tight line. he stood there, frozen for a moment, before suddenly grabbing your pinky with his. "promise me something," he said, his voice steady now, even though you could tell he was fighting to keep it that way. "promise me that when i come back, we'll get married. just like i said before."

you bit your lip, trying to keep the tears from falling, but you linked your pinky with his, just like you had when you were younger. "promise," you whispered

"[name]?" his voice, still soft but way deeper than you remembered, sent a shiver through you. the café suddenly felt too small as your heart raced in your chest. truth be told, you didn’t believe it when your intuition told you that it was kenji. but there he was, standing in line at a café, wearing that familiar baseball cap, though now he looked taller, more muscular, and more serious than you remembered.

"kenji?" you managed to say, blinking in disbelief. it felt like the years melted away in that single moment. without thinking, you rushed toward him—nearly knocking over your mocha—and he caught you in a tight hug, lifting you slightly off the ground as if afraid you’d disappear again

"i can't believe it's you," he said, his breath warm against your ear. "after all this time."

you pulled back to look at him, your hands still resting on his shoulders. "it’s been so long. i didn’t think... i didn’t know we’d ever see each other again."

he grinned, the same boyish smile from your childhood, but this time there was something deeper behind it. "guess life has a way of surprising us, huh?"

yet, neither of you ever forgot that childhood promise

as time went on, the two of you started hanging out more frequently. whether it was grabbing dinner after work or going to local events together, it felt natural to be in each other’s lives again. but now, there was something different—an undercurrent of tension that hadn’t been there before. the way kenji’s eyes lingered on you a little longer, the way he seemed more protective, more attentive—it was as if that childhood promise was quietly resurfacing in the back of both your minds

after a particularly nostalgic conversation about your childhood adventures, you found yourself alone at his apartment, surrounded by the warmth and familiarity of someone who truly understood you. as you sat together on the couch, the conversation drifted back to that fateful summer day. with a teasing grin, you brought up the promise he made all those years ago. "remember when you said you were going to marry me? do you still mean it?"

you expected him to laugh it off, but instead, kenji’s expression turned serious, just like it had back then. "i never forgot about that promise," he admitted, his voice low and sincere. "i meant it then, and i mean it now."

his words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of emotion and anticipation. there was something undeniably intense about the way he looked at you, like he was finally ready to make good on the vow he made as a kid

what starts as a gentle reconnection quickly becomes more intense as years of pent-up desire surface. kenji’s touch is both eager and reverent, like he’s memorizing every inch of your skin. he whispers your name against your lips as his hands slide under your clothes, each touch deliberate, lingering, meant to remind you that he’s serious about the promise he made all those years ago

he takes his time, savoring every reaction he draws from you, until both of you are lost in each other. the way he moves is confident but tender, ensuring you feel adored in every moment. kenji’s deep, gravelly voice fills the room as he murmurs your name and confesses how long he’s waited for this—how he’s always known you were the one for him

"i still want to marry you. i always have."

ken sato taglist

@mochminnie @despacito-uwu16 @yellowheartz @ririkacchi @ifharbingerbad--whyhot 

@reit0o @heavenlyraindrops @lovingyeet @stickypaperstarlight @raee-dreeaaamz 

@rreasonablydumbb @bandolls @gingersnap126126 @automalvo @spiderboogie 

@shellspider @blogscach @nightingale047 @deadbydad @deadbydad-writes 

@phantomface @spencerrxids @moonjellyfishie @optimisticladysalad @tsumimimi 

@purplegobrrrrrr @sillybillyp9 @cyberpsiko @swaggyv1v1 @l-charl 

@miffysoo @aise-30 @bakugouswaif @rinaizha @goodomenslover20

@biderman-666 @jaowiwh-blog @lazulihrts @meloncreme @woahhajime

@theboredhooman @pr0bablyr0se @jinshikinoku @sxftiebee @your-left-sock 

@teyamswifeyy @corrosive-cyanide @cloudy-yyy @xaithings

[feralforfrank]

── EVERYTHING WILL BE JUST FINE.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

summary the aftermath of the mission that almost causes the loss of your life.

cw description of a panic attack (reader has one), canon codmw2 violence & mentions of it, feeeeeeelingssssss, hurt/comfort, atp mutual pining & idiots in love. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. TELL ME IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!!!

note some people asked for part two, sooooo!!! i delivered :)

1,5K | masterlist

When you opened your eyes, it was because of the horrid images that haunted your eyelids. You woke with a gasp and a ripple of pain spreading through your whole body. The room was dark and cold, but you felt the soft mattress underneath you begging to swallow your exhausted body. 

It all came to you slowly. The mission, the men trying to escape with your team's hidden car, you leaving your post and sneaking behind them, fighting them, and managing to get stabbed two times. The pain in your side was becoming more and more apparent now.

A flash of Ghost holding you in his arms makes you tense. He'd come to your rescue. Called you darling. Held you in his arms and reassured you that you'd be okay. You're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed. I can fix it.

Your heart fluttered, and your gaze blurred with tears. It wasn't right to have a crush on your superior, but you couldn't help yourself. Everything about Simon Riley fascinated you—from his continuous silences and intense glares to his very attractive build. You didn't need to see his face to know he was drop-dead gorgeous. The mask was one of the things that made Ghost even hotter. 

But it was wrong. Ghost's your lieutenant, your superior, and there was no way he'd ever feel the same way about you anyway. You doubt he could feel love sometimes. He cared for his team, that's for sure, but this line of work didn't allow deep and romantic sentiments. 

The jiggle of the door handle snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped, causing your wounds to throb. A poorly contained whimper escaped your lips. Your heart sped up in fear, and your left hand tried to look for the knife strapped to your left thigh.

Fuck, it's not there. 

The silhouette slips in, and you swear your heart feels about to leap from your throat. A tear slides down your cheek as the man approaches your side. Shit, he's here to kill you. Finish you for what you did to his companions.

In your panicked haze and blurred gaze, you don't hear Simon calling your name. You see him set down a tray next to your head, and fuck—he's going to torture you first? Where the fuck is Ghost? Soap? Gaz? 

"K-Kyle?" You try, but your voice is hoarse and not as loud as intended.

Your gaze falls to the door, and you call Johnny's name. Then Simon's. You plead, but it's still not loud enough. More tears slide down your face, your ears ring, and your body shakes under the blanket.

"—ocus! Focus on me, Owl! You're safe here!" The man calls your name. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, darlin'."

Darlin'.

Darlin'. Darlin'!

Ghost.

And suddenly, the ringing in your ears subsides, and panic isn't bubbling hot in your blood. You feel his hands now, touching your bare shoulders—cold fingers touching scorching skin—shaking you to pull you out of your living nightmare.

"It's okay, lovie. S'alright. You're alright." He shushes you, sitting next to your feet.

"Help me up," you whisper.

Ghost reluctantly helps you sit up, gently touching your wrists. He towers over you to adjust the thin pillows on your back. Your gaze never leaves him. He's rid himself of the tactical vest, only wearing his tight-as-shit shirt, pants, and of course, his balaclava. Thank fuck, it's not the skull one. You melt at how he cares for you, despite you having fucked up the whole operation.

He grabs a bottle of water from the tray, and you have to remind yourself that it doesn't carry torture devices. The man in front of you is Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, not the enemy. You gulp the water greedily like you've been walking in the desert under the scorching heat for hours.

"Want another one?" He asks. You shake your head.

There's a pause. The silence isn't tense but not comfortable. The nagging guilt—from both of you—holds you back from being truly open with each other. 

You should've never left your post. The team would've been able to escape without the car anyway. Your thoughts are never-ending.

Simon wants to punch himself. He shouldn't have had to carry you to the car. The guilt of letting you get hurt punctured a hole in his chest. 

A sniff brought him back. "I'm sorry."

He looks at you. Stares at you with those emotionless eyes, and you hate it. You hate that you can't guess what he's thinking. You'd fucked up that much is true.

"Fuck—" You hiccup and look away from him. "I didn't mean to. I panicked. I thought—I don't know what I thought. I'm sorry, Ghost, truly—"

"What're you sorry for?" His hard tone startles you.

You look at him, confused more than ever. "I fucked up the mission. Got hurt in the process too. We would've been in base by now had it not been for my fuck-up."

"You protected the team."

"No, I put my team and this mission in jeopardy."

"You took care of a threat, Sargeant." His tone was final. "You did your job. Greatly."

You inhale deeply, your eyes meeting Simon's. His gaze is like stone, but you can see the glint of pride he has for you.

"I was so scared." Fuck you for tearing up again. You felt weak.

You look down at your hands. The light slipping through the open door allows you to see the dark colour they have. Your blood—God, you hope it's yours—stains your palms and reaches up to your wrists.

"I told you I'd fix it," Simon says, and you melt at his words. "Fixed you up pretty good, all things considered." 

It makes you laugh. The timing isn't great, but the chuckle escapes before you can stop it.

"Thank you, Ghost. I owe you big time."

He shakes his head. "Don't mention it. I'm your Lt. I'm supposed to keep you safe and alive."

Lt. 

I'm your Lt.

It stings. You want him to call you darling and lovie again. You purse your lips and nod your head, feeling awkward thinking such thoughts with him present.

"Thank you." You pause, looking for something to ask Ghost—so he doesn't leave. You can't be alone right now. "Where are we?"

"Deep in the woods. They can't find us here."

Pursing your lips, you nod, feeling relieved. The silence returns, and Ghost exhales. "That's soup and meds for the pain. Not much, though. I don't want you passing out."

He stands to leave, and you jump, completely forgetting about the stitched wounds. "Where are you going?" Simon stills at the fear in your voice.

"Leaving?"

It comes out as a question—not what he'd intended. He was fighting the urge to show you how scared he'd been—and still is—after almost having you dead in his arms. The sentimental feelings toward you are growing stronger every second he spends with you, and it's dangerous. He has to stop permitting himself to feel. To hope that one day you'll feel the same for him. God, he feels like a teenager just thinking these thoughts.

But how can he not hope? When you look at him with wide, terrified eyes, swimming in unshed tears. When you're gripping the bowl of soup, he made carefully just for you, silently pleading with him to sit a tad bit longer.

He can see your lips tremble, but you hide it well by pursing them. The words are on your tongue, but you can't bring yourself to ask him to stay because fuck. How much more can you ask from this man? He saved you, patched you up, made you food, and now you wanted him to stay, purely out of fear. It's embarrassing to request this, especially in your line of work.

So, Simon decides to do it for you. "Unless you want me to stay?"

Your expression is shocked, but you eagerly nod before he can change his mind. You scooch to make room for his big frame on the small bed, and he actually manages to lay next to you, a hand draped on the bedframe to pull you closer.

You feel safe. Simon tends to make people feel this way. It's not only his large frame but how he carries himself and shows affection to the people he cares about. It doesn't matter if you talk or stay silent—he prefers silence—Ghost's presence is relaxing enough for you to eat your soup and drink your meds.

And when you finish, he grabs the bowl and places it next to him. When you start to drift off and snuggle closer to steal his warmth, he forces his tense shoulders to loosen and pulls you closer. He kisses the top of your head, and your hair tickles his cold nose even through his balaclava.

He knows his back will ache from the uncomfortable position he's sitting in, but he doesn't care because you're alive. Alive and safe. In his arms. And it's all that matters right now.

[remuslupinslittleslut]

Amy's Kinkmas Day Ten

Size Kink - Remus Lupin x Reader

Masterlist.

Standing on your tippy toes, you reach up to kiss your boyfriend. As Remus is much taller than you, he has to lean down to meet your lips.

"You're so tiny", he chuckles, resting his chin on your head.

"'M not", you huff, leaning your head back to look up at him.

His hands around your waist squeeze, almost lifting you of your feet. He walks you backwards to stand in front of the mirror, spinning you around.

He's right, in front of him, you do look tiny. Your arms cross over your chest, "I'm not tiny."

His hand comes up to wrap lightly around your throat, "don't start a fight you can't finish", Remus says.

Your eyes roll back, not in the mood of being told that you're tiny. This, apprently, was not the best move, Remus, in one smooth movement lift you up, pushing you onto the bed and climbing on top of you, his whole body wrapped around you.

"What was that, huh?" He's leaning on his lower arms, planted on either side of your head, his hips rolling once, to push his groin against you.

In this position you feel very small, his strong arms encircling you, broad shoulders covering your line of vision, heavy body against yours, "'s nothing."

He tsks, rolling his hips once more, head leaning down to kiss you again, "baby, you're so small, if i layed down I'd cover all of you", his lips kiss your nose, "it's truly amazing you even fit m'cock in you".

At the mention of his cock, you instinctively let out a whimper, it's so big, stretching you so good.

"Please", you whine, "I can take it, please."

He laughs, kissing along your jaw, "nah, baby, you're so little, gonna have to stretch you first."

This is necessarily true, but you're not going to object to his fingers filling you up. Kissing down your body, his fingers slip beneath your skirt, pulling your panties down, "there's m'pretty girl", he speaks lowly, directly into your core. Kissing your clit, his fingers start playing around your hole, circling the opening and lightly pushing the tip of his finger in.

Your hand reached down into his hair, pulling his head closer, making him moan against your sensitive bud.

He's eating like a starved man, licking, slurping, kissing. His fingers take their time in opening your hole, one finger slowly entering as his tongue licks around it. It doesn't take him many minutes before a second finger joins in, moving at a fast pace, making your back arch, moans slipping from your lips.

His lips pull away, eyes moving to your face, gauging your reaction as a third finger slips in. The stretch feels nice, it's nothing against his cock but it's definately a change from just the two.

"Go on love, let go, come for me", as his fingers plunge in and out of you, his mouth leaves small kisses along your tummy. Your fingers tense in his hair as your legs start shaking, your orgasm washing over you.

His fingers finally pull out, and he licks them clean, you know he doesn't want to waste your taste.

"Think you're ready for my cock now, little love?" He asks, dry hand pushing hair out of your face, as he kissing your forehead.

You nod, "yeah, please Remmy, so ready."

He pulls his cock free, giving it a few tugs, before lining up with your opening. His lips connect with yours, kissing you as he pushes in.

He fits, for sure, but it is a stretch, walls opening up to take him. It almost hurts, but he's used to you and knows you need the warm up, always having lube on hand in case you need it.

Your hands wrap around him, one arm around his back and one around his neck, holding him close to you. His upper body completely covers you, making him a human weighted blanket.

"Fuck, baby, you're so tight", he moans, hips moving back and forth, "feel so good around me."

You love it when he tells you things like this, your walls clamping down even harder when he tells you filthy words.

"You're so small, so tiny, could probably break you in two, split you on m'cock", his control over the movement of his hips is staggering, the rhytm falling as he's chasing his high.

"Not gonna last babe, shit, so good for me", you love this, love making him feel so big and strong and sexy, love having him fill you almost the second he fills you up. You love knowing how sexy he finds you, knowing that you make him feel this good.

His hips move against yours in a final, hard thrust, before stilling as his cock almost vibrates in emtying his seed inside you, white spurts painting your walls, filling your little cunt not only with cock. This is what gets you, feeling him come inside you, and you shudder as a second, weaker, orgasm washes over you.

Remus collapsed over you, and as the intensity of your orgasm wavers you push on him, "Remmy get off, you know I'm too small for this."

Kinkmas taglist: @alexxander-arcturus-black-lupin @hearts4court @delulu4marauders @remussbitch

[stinkysam]

Serge "Frenchie" - Can't sleep love.

Warning : nsfw, dry humping, unprotected sex, overstimulation, choking, top!reader, bit of degradation, praise, pre-established consent on everything going on

Genre : smut

Synopsis : You can't sleep and your boyfriend suggests having sex to pass time.

Reader : male (you/yours)

A/N : Reader speaks French as well because I do. // Thought of this while I couldn't sleep. // All translations are at the end. // I'm really not sure about it 😕 there's barely anything for him (this is outrageous) so I can't compare with other people's work so idk if it's good.

Once again you couldn't sleep.

It's been a little more than a year now that you wake up multiple times, every night. You'd just wake up. And fall back asleep after 5 or 10 minutes.

You didn't know why and no medication would work, despite trying quite a few. Whether you were tired or not, going to bed early or late wouldn't change anything. You'd still wake up. Every night.

So here you were at 1am, laying in your shared bed with Frenchie fast asleep by your side. You knew you fell asleep around 11, or so you think, you're not sure anymore after ruminating as much as you were doing now. You kept turning and tossing, it's been longer than usual, making you annoyed, pulling the blankets up then pushing them down. Too hot. Too cold. Too hot. Too co-

“Mon amour ?” You hear. Shit, you woke Frenchie up with your constant movements.

“Yeah ?” You whispered back, turning to face him.

“Ça va ?” He scoots closer, placing a hand on your cheek. Worry evident in his voice. You grab it, kissing his palm.

“Non. Can't fucking sleep.”

“Again ?”

“Comme toutes les nuits.” You chuckled bitterly. “Normally I wouldn't care much, I fall back asleep after 5 minutes but it's been an hour and I'm still not asleep.”

He says nothing, listening.

“I'm so bored, it's pissing me off.” You add with a huff, ready to toss and turn again. A moment of silence falls as Frenchie thinks.

“Wanna fuck ? Pour passer le temps ?” He finally says with a cheeky smile.

You turn your head to look at him again though you can barely see his features in the dark. A moment of silence passes again as you thought.

“It won't work, y'know ?”

“Why not ?”

“I just know it won’t.” You shrugged but continued speaking after a second. “But pour passer le temps ?” You repeated. “Okay, d'accord. Pourquoi pas.” You weren't particularly aroused but at least you would be doing something instead of waiting for the sleep that refused to come. Still, you wasted no time as you climbed on top of Frenchie, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. He responded with as much energy, his hands slipping quickly under your shirt to touch you everywhere.

You kissed him everywhere on his face, your hands holding his head still as you pushed your knee between his legs, applying pressure on his growing hard on, making him moan lightly before biting his lower lip, earning a hiss as he grabbed you harder, pulling you closer at the same time.

His tongue in your mouth, dancing with yours as you shared more than sloppy kisses, but you didn't let that and his pretty noises distract you from massaging his dick with your knee, feeling it grow harder under your ministrations. Frenchie’s moans grew louder as his boxers felt too tight now, spreading his legs open as he bucked his hips against you to get more friction.

“Eager, are we ?” You said in between kisses. But truth be told, you were as eager as him.

“J'ai juste envie de toi, mon cœur.” He replied, pushing his lips back against yours.

He kept humping your leg, small moans leaving his mouth.

Your thumbs caressed his skin, feeling his light stubble and still fresh cut he got from a fight. Your knee never stopped pushing against his dick and balls, massaging them in a rough manner. The more you did so, the louder he became, not caring if the walls of your place weren't thick enough to contain his moans.

“Putain.” He breathed out several times in between kisses.

You continued like this ‘til he came in his boxers. You didn't give him the time to regain his breath as you pulled his boxers down, jerking his now sensitive cock.

“Attends- Wait ! Mon coeur-” Frenchie hissed, a hand flying over to yours in a weak attempt to stop you, but you gently slapped it. After all, he still hadn't said the safeword. So he closed his eyes for a few seconds, letting you do whatever you wanted to do as small moans began to leave his lips once more.

Your thumb caressed his dick roughly, not letting it go soft as you followed the veins to his balls before your other hand went under, pushing a spit covered finger in his ass. He hissed once more, clenching around your index before relaxing rapidly.

Your own cock was painfully hard in your boxers by now but you didn't mind. You were patient and had other plans. So you continued jerking Frenchie before adding a second finger, making scissor motions.

“You're not allowed to come.” You informed hom, watching him quickly nod through his moans. “Good boy.” You kissed his knee that was resting against you and his cock pulsed at your words.

You tormented him like that for a few minutes, jerking him rapidly then slowly then fast again while your fingers still worked his ass, occasionally tickling his prostate. His moans and gasps were like music to your ears, you wished you could listen to them forever. So you savored them instead.

“Ah ! Putain ! I'm- Can I come ? Please ?” He quickly asked, words rushing out. He really needed to cum.

“No.”

“But mon coeur…”

“I said no, slut.” You smiled devilishly as you knew he would obey, and it didn't miss. He whined but complied, his legs shaking as he tried hard not to close them and not to cum. Eyes shut tightly as more moans spilled from his lips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You heard him say under his breath, almost like a prayer while his hips moved in an erratic manner to match the pace of your both hands.

Pre-cum was leaking from his tip, coating your hand while your other one continued to finger him.

“You like that, huh ? T'es ma petite pute. Mh, Serge ?”

Frenchie nodded at your words, dick throbbing in your hand, more pre pooling out.

You could tell how much he wanted to cum and how hard he was trying not to with tears in his eyes. You took note of how this time he didn't wipe them, he knew you liked seeing them. You decided to be kind, knowing him, he wouldn't beg for it, not because he's above begging but because he wants to be good and fear you'd say “No.” for the hell of it.

“What a good boy.” You said with a smile, kissing his knee once more. “You can cum.”

And it didn't take long for him to come after your words, a sigh of relief mixed with more moans of pleasure left him as you helped him ride his second orgasm, cum landing on his shirt and lower abdomen. But once more, you didn't let him relax, pulling your fingers out of him to replace them with your aching dick after removing your boxers.

“Putain de- Ah !” He gasped, and you pulled him up, making him bounce on your cock. He wrapped his arms around you for more stability, moaning loudly in your ear as he planted his face in the crook of your neck. There was no way your neighbor didn't know what you two were doing by now, but you didn't care as you continued to plow into your boyfriend. His cock was rubbing against you, smearing pre and come all over you two.

His breathing was loud and erratic as he tried to calm down, without success. So he busied himself by kissing you again, holding you close.

Wanting to change position, but thinking the headboard was far enough you pushed Frenchie down and a ‘bonk’ was heard followed by a quick “Aie !”. He had hit his head against the fucking headboard.

You laughed, rapidly apologizing, kissing his forehead.

“You okay ?” You asked, hands planted by his shoulders as you peppered his face with kisses.

“Mon chéri, you need to do more than that to take me out.” He said with a smirk, though you couldn't see it in the dark you could hear it in his voice.

You snorted, kissing him once more on the lips before pushing yourself back in, soft moans escaping him again.

With one hand you held yourself up above him while the other one went to his throat, squeezing the sides to restrict his blood flow.

“Oh, putain...” He managed to speak, though his voice was a bit hoarse as he began to feel light headed after a few seconds. Each time you would release his neck, Frenchie would gasp for air, eyes half lidded, only for you to start again. You're careful as to not apply pressure on his windpipe, counting each second of when he can and can't breathe.

But while you're cautious with your hand, you're less caring with how hard your dick ram into him. Certainly bruising his prostate with each hit, earning pretty broken moans after pretty broken moan.

“What a good boy you are, huh ?” You said, leaning down, kissing him. He tried to kiss you back but felt too hazy to succeed. “You're doing so good for me.” His cock throbbed with each of your words, clearly enjoying them.

He grabbed your arm, not to pull your hand away from his throat but to warn you he was close to cumming again. Good, you were reaching your limit too.

“You can cum, pretty boy.” This time you made sure to choke him while he reached his climax, cum spilling on his shirt and a bit on you. His ears were ringing when you finally let go of him and his head felt bubbly. You finished quickly after, inside him, but you didn't pull out directly and instead waited to calm down from both your high and his.

Frenchie was panting under you, slowly regaining his breath, chest heaving up and down.

You both groaned when you pulled out and you quickly left the bed to get a cloth and a water bottle. You rapidly cleaned yourself, then Frenchie.

“Merci.” He said, grabbing the bottle before drinking some of it. You watched as Frenchie removed his cum stained shirt and threw it to the side. You did the same and went back to bed, cuddled against him under a thin blanket. You both closed your eyes and after a moment…

“It didn't work. I don't feel sleepy at all.” You sighed. He laughed

“It worked for me !”

“Connard.”

“What ? C'pas ma faute !”

��What ?! It literally is ! We fucked and it woke me up more than ever !”

“Oh, va te faire foutre !” He laughed and placed his chin above your head, holding you close.

“Comment vas ta gorge ? J't'ai fait mal ?” You asked, kissing his neck.

“Non, mon chéri. You didn't hurt me. I told you, you need to do more than that to take me out.”

“Okay. Good. I love you.”

It's not your first time saying these three words yet it always catches Frenchie off guard. After everything that's happened, his past and ex-lovers, he wasn't sure if he deserved these words.

“I- I love you too.” He replied after a little while.

“You don't have to say it back, you know. I know you do.” You kissed his forehead.

“Non, je sais, but I want to.”

“Okay.” You smiled.

While Frenchie fell asleep rather quickly after, arms holding you tightly, you had to wait once more, stuck in his embrace, unable to toss and turn anymore. And of course, it didn't miss, you woke up later that night. And once more at around 5 am without falling back asleep.

Putain de merde.

--

Translations :

Mon amour - My love.

Ça va ? - You okay ?

Non - No.

Comme toutes les nuits - Like every night.

Pour passer le temps - To pass time.

D'accord - Okay / Alright.

Pourquoi pas - Why not.

Putain - Fuck.

J'ai juste envie de toi - I just want you.

Attends - Wait.

T'es ma petite pute - You’re my little whore.

Putain de… - Fucking...

Mon chéri - My dear.

Merci - Thank you.

Connard - Asshole.

C’pas ma faute - It's not my fault.

Va te faire foutre - Go fuck yourself.

Comment vas ta gorge ? - How is your throat ?

J't'ai fait mal ? - Did I hurt you ?

Non, je sais - No, I know.

Putain de merde - Fucking shit.

[actual-changeling]

okay but is anyone going to write a fic set post s3 where they get into a domestic squabble/fight and aziraphale gets so heated he says "i need some air", grabs his coat, and leaves. crowley watches him disappear through the front door, listens to the bang as it falls shut just a tiny bit louder than usual, and suddenly he is paralysed with fear—terrified down to his bones that aziraphale won't come back.

because he left before, didn't he? they fought, he left, and then crowley was alone on earth, his chest empty and aching where his angels had been. for days, weeks, months, he waited. for him to come back. to apologize. waiting for the day he woke up and everything turned out to be a horrible dream.

a part of feels like sinking to the floor and sobbing, another wants to run after him, to scream and beg and plead, don't leave, please. don't leave me again.

instead, crowley goes numb, his movements distant and robotic as he picks up aziraphale's discarded sweatshirt from the couch, pulls it on, and blindly finds his way back to their bedroom. he is good at waiting, isn't he, always has been. he curls up on top of the covers with his nose buried in the collar, inhaling the lingering scent of him, and does exactly that—he waits.

when aziraphale returns almost an hour later, freezing and missing crowley terribly, the argument already forgotten and forgiven, he finds him fast asleep and clutching a bunched up blanket to his chest. he kicks off his shoes and hangs up his coat before slowly sitting down beside him, reaching out to gently tuck back some stray strands of hair.

his fingertips brush along his jaw and crowley snaps awake, blinking heavily and looking at him as if he can't quite believe what he is seeing.

"you came back?"

"of course i did."

aziraphale frowns, not quite understanding why he would even ask that question in the first place, let alone with an almost timid tone, his voice trembling. ten seconds later, everything slots into place.

"oh, crowley, i'm sorry, i didn't mean-"

"'s fine, angel," crowley interrupts, awkwardly shuffling upwards until his head finds a pillow to rest on. all curled up and alone he looks small, fragile, and aziraphale chases after him immediately, settling down next to him before wrapping him in a tight embrace.

"i won't leave you. ever. i promise."

crowley sighs and cuddles closer, his eyes already fluttering shut again. they should talk about all of this, but not now, not with both of them content to stay right where they are and doze the afternoon away.

they have all the time in the world.

so is anyone going to write this properly or-

[mj-iza-writer]

Warning: water asphyxiation. Water boarding.

Whumpee sobs as Whumper pushes them into the basement cellar.

"You think you can act disobediently, you have another thing coming", Whumper barks into their ear before pushing them to the ground.

Whumpee tries to break their fall, but their arms and hands are ducttaped behind their back. Their attempt only made the fall worse.

Whumper carried over a cloth bag and more ducttape.

"No please", Whumpee begs, "please, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry... I'll be better."

Whumper slapped Whumpee hard across their face, "shut up."

Whumpee whimpers as the bag is pulled over their head. The sickening sound of the tape being pulled makes them shudder.

Whumper's hand clenched tightly around Whumpee's neck as they wrap the tape around their neck. The bag now secured in place.

Whumpee continues to whimper. They can hear Whumper moving around the room, grabbing things... dropping others.

"Please", Whumpee tries once more.

"I said shut up", Whumper stomps to them and grabs a fistful of bag and hair.

Whumpee follows as they are pulled up and led to a different room. They felt as though their hair would be pulled out.

They are again pushed to the floor, their head hits tile.

Their eyes go wide as they realized. They sit up fast and try to scoot away on their knees.

"I don't think so", Whumper pulls them back, making their legs bend weirdly.

"N...", Whumpee tried to plead before their jaw was punched.

"Funny... I want an obedient slave and you want oxygen. Let's see if we can solve both of our problems", Whumper pushes them back towards the tile.

Whumpee knew exactly where they had been led. Whumper's downstairs shower. A place to quickly rinse off before going upstairs to get a real shower or bath.

Whumpee was pushed onto their back. They still fight, knowing there was no point in it... except it made them feel better that they at least tried. All fight left them when they heard the water get turned on.

One cup of water. Whumpee spits and sputters the water out of their mouth.

Two cups of water.. every breath Whumpee tries to take only pulls the bag into their mouth.

Three cups of water... breathing has become more difficult.

Four cups.... Whumpee tries to turn their face to the side in hopes of catching their breath.

"Turn your head", Whumper slaps Whumpee's chest. Causing a weak breathless groan.

Five cups..... Whumpee is feeling lightheaded.

Six cups...... Whumpee attempts to fight again.

Seven....... Eight........ Nine.........

Ten cups.......... Whumper is satisfied when Whumpee's body barely moves.

Whumper pulls out a knife and cuts the bag open around the mouth. They grin when they notice they cut into Whumpee's mouth.

It takes a few moments before Whumpee takes a few short breaths. They try to move a little but feel Whumper is holding them down still.

"Ymmm", Whumpee moans weakly, the oxygen causes their throat to sting.

"I'm sorry", Whumpee whispers weakly, "I-I learned my lesson. Please forgive your slave Master."

"That's more like it", Whumper grins, "I'm glad we had this discussion."

Whumpee feels Whumper grab their arm and pull them up.

Whumpee weakly falls over. Thankful Whumper was at least kind enough to catch them this time.

They weakly follow Whumper's lead until they're gently pushed to the floor.

"See what happens when you behave. I'm suddenly a nice person again", Whumper chuckles.

"Y-yes Master", Whumpee's chest feels tight.

"You'll stay down here tonight. I don't want to see or hear you", Whumper walks away, "you'll remain like that. Restrained and bag around your head. I want your lesson to fully soak into your thick head. I'll try to remember to come and get you tomorrow. You know how my memory works, I can't remember a thing that isn't important to me."

Whumpee weakly nodded, "yes Master."

"Hope you don't get too cold... I don't care enough to give you a blanket or let you get out of those wet clothes. I just don't want to be expected to buy you medicine if you get sick."

"Yes Master", Whumpee keeps their head low. They feel droplets of water drip on their arm and shirt.

When the upstairs door slams shut Whumpee cautiously repossessions themself to a more comfortable position.

The bag still hangs over their head. The cut Whumper had made drooped down from the weight of the water. Any heavy breaths Whumpee made would cause the bag to cling to their face.

Whumpee craved a deep breath, their body craved it so much, but all they could manage was brief short breaths.

"Ymph", Whumpee started to panic.

"No no don't panic... you panic they win", Whumpee told themself, "they can't win. It can't be much longer before I'm rescued."

Whumpee quietly fantasized about being rescued. All of the things they still wanted to do.

The truth was Whumpee didn't know how long they had been kept their. They were not allowed to have any access to knowing the dates and time.

The truth was their trail had gone cold two years previously. No one was currently looking for them. Everyone figured they had finally run away like they said they would.

The truth was they were only five blocks away from their family and friends. No one was coming for them.

Whumper came down the stairs the next morning to find Whumpee slumped to the side.

Arms bent in an uncomfortable position, and legs curled tightly.

"Wake up", Whumpee kicked at Whumpee's feet.

"Hmm, dad?", Whumpee mumbled as they stirred.

"Dad?", Whumper laughed, "someone must have been dreaming about freedom again. Give it up, it's never going to happen. This is your life now."

"I-it might happen ", Whumpee said with an air of indignance.

"Are we getting mouthy again? Have you already forgotten yesterday's lesson?", Whumper lifted Whumpee by their throat and pushed them against the wall, "do you want another round?"

"No, no please", Whumpee gasped, "please let me have this one dream. It's the only thing I have to hold onto."

Whumper laughed as they dropped Whumpee to the floor, "I've waited so long for you to admit that so I could ruin it for you."

"Please", Whumpee whimpered, "let me have this one thing."

Whumper happily grabbed Whumpee and dragged them up the stairs and to a closet.

A box was pulled out.

Whumper cut away the bag from Whumpee's head with glee and tossed it onto the floor.

"Read it and weep", Whumper opened the box and pulled out a newspaper clipping.

Whumpee looked at the headline.

"Missing person's trail runs cold after months of searching. Family believes missing person: Whumpee Doe had decided to run away after saying so many times. Family believes they do not want to be found and are respecting that choice."

"No no no... you're lying", Whumpee glared with tears in their eyes.

"This was out two years ago. I've held it just for this occasion", Whumper grinned evilly, "no one is looking for you."

Whumpee sniffled before screaming.

"Yes let it all out", Whumper laughed gleefully, "this is exactly the reaction I was hoping for. The one last thing you were holding onto.... just ripped right from your clutches."

Whumpee fell to the floor and wept.

"You unfortunately do not have time to lay down either. Chores still need to be done", Whumper pulled them up and untied their bindings, "so get busy."

Whumpee cried throughout their entire chores list. They sniffled each time they crossed something off as done.

Whumper checked in constantly to make sure the jobs were being done properly... nothing was being skipped.

"I should have broken your spirits sooner. You are being so good and so quiet. I'm also loving your sobs and sniffles... it's like music to my ears", Whumper commented, "you had hoped for so long and it was just easily taken away.... just like that."

Whumpee glared at Whumper. Their sadness being exchanged for anger.

"Aww don't act like that. I can't believe you still thought you had a chance at being saved from me", Whumper grinned, "you will never be rid of me."

Whumpee jumped forward before they had time to think.

Within seconds Whumper had them on the floor trapped in an armbar. Their hand shoving Whumpee's face into the floor.

Whumpee gasped in pain.

"My are you brave. Even it utter hopelessness you still fight me" Whumper started to bend Whumpee's arm in an opposite direction.

"No no please, I'm sorry I didn't mean to... I'm sorry", Whumpee winced, "I wasn't thinking, I wasn't.... I-I didn't think before I acted... I'm sorry."

"You need to learn to obey me", Whumper released their grip on Whumpee's arm, "you don't need to think... just need to do what I tell you. Got it?"

Whumpee weakly nodded, "I'm sorry."

"That's more like it", Whumper turned away and walked to the living room.

As Whumpee cleaned the bathroom, their reflection caught their attention.

They looked in the mirror and sighed when they didn't recognize themself.

"This isn't me, this isn't....", Whumpee paused when they heard Whumper talking on the phone about a future planned trip.

"Okay Whumper", Whumpee whispered to their reflection, "you want to take away my hopes, my happiness." Whumpee wiped their runny nose on their sleeve, "I'll return the favor. I don't know how or when, but your days are numbered."

Whumpee made a slight smile at their reflection. They now had something new to hold onto. Something new to bring them hope.

That night, Whumpee glanced into Whumper's room.

Whumper had fallen asleep earlier than normal and had forgotten to tie Whumpee up.

Whumpee wasn't fully ready to kill Whumper just yet. They hadn't planned enough. They wanted it to be successful. Whumper would easily overpower them if they did it at the wrong time. They would know something was up then.

They had to wait... they had to be successful.

"All of my hopes lie on this", Whumpee sighed as they slid their hands into a set of handcuffs and laid down on the carpeted hallway floor outside of Whumper's bedroom, "if no one will rescue me, I'll rescue myself."

Whumpee rested their head on the floor, like every night lately they thought about their rescue. This was a little different now.

"Enjoy it now Whumper... I'm coming", Whumpee looked into the crack of Whumper's bedroom. They could see Whumper on the bed.

They smiled as their eyes closed.

"Goodnight!"

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @sunglasses-in-the-bentley

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie

[moodymisty]

for requests, I'd love to see anything with Horus (if not necessarily the reader) having a good time. sex or not, just he's having fun with whatever is going on.

I'm kind of ridiculously into cnc lol

Author’s note: These requests couldn't go together better, so why not? tbh I really struggled with this one, but i can't really afford to do a total rewrite of it, so i hope this is still ok ;3

part of the 'horus takes lorgar's wife' plotline, but no pregnancy. yet

Relationships: Horus Lupercal/Fem!Reader, Implied Lorgar Aurelian/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Dubcon that could also tbh be just full Noncon, Horus interprets A LOT of body language incorrectly

Horus has spent months waiting for this moment.

He’s stayed by your side, offering support as you grieved through Lorgar’s abandonment. He wanted to be there, taking care of your every need while Lorgar danced around with frivolous religions.

Eventually however, your heart began to heal. You started smiling more, calling him Horus instead of Warmaster, or Primarch Lupercal. The first time his name fell from your lips was a joyous occasion, just for him alone. His men didn't understand why the simple gesture made a smile stick to his face for the rest of the evening.

Once you were emotionally healed, Lorgar slipping further from your mind with each passing day, Horus began to try and slip himself into the empty space he left.

You didn't need Lorgar. You never needed Lorgar. He could do everything Lorgar did for you and more, without paltry distractions and his possessive sheltering.

It was gradual- slow, gentle touches and kind words with implications behind them only he knew, waiting for you to welcome him into your heart fully.

The moment finally revealed itself one evening alone, and now he finally had you.

You wore a dress given to you by Lorgar; He can tell by the design and filigree. It doesn’t fit or flatter you properly, the style is all wrong; He will get you clothing that will be perfect.

Laying on his massive sea of a bed beneath him, your body tremors as he slowly lifts the hem of your dress, revealing your knees, then your thighs. The softness of your skin is instantly apparently and his muscles tighten with a yearn to touch.

"You are so nervous, i can smell it. I won't hurt you,"

Horus speaks with a gentle tone, his hand drifting up your thigh softly to reveal your underwear. He knows how much taller he is, how much bigger, the way his shadow consumes you must be unsettling. “All I want is to tend to you the way you deserve.”

You’re so fragile- your body shivers underneath his touch. Lorgar must’ve been too rough with you, to make you fear this; He can remedy your nervousness.

“H-Horus, please I-“

It’s not moments later that he pushes his fingers between your thighs, pressing them against your puffy outer lips. He can feel your warmth, your softness even through the fabric, and it isn’t long before he has his fingers hooked around them to pull them down your legs and toss them aside.

“Relax, let me take care of you. It has to have been such a long time since you were last with someone.”

The mere thought of Lorgar’s touching your body disgusts him. He doubts he cared what you desired, unlike him.

Horus slips two of his fingers into the soft tight heat of your cunt and listens to the way you gasp, gripping the pillow your head rests on.

You feel so wonderful, even just his hand; If he was a more selfish man, one less caring about your survival- or how you felt - he might just force himself into you right away.

His fingers curling inside of you he feels the soft velvet of your inner walls, the way they wrap around him and tighten and loosen. When he touches a sensitive spot he feels the way you clench down and how your back arches, body writhing under his touch. He can't think of a better sight, as the blankets bunch around you and brush against your skin.

“Let go my love, stop fighting so much.”

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes- you’re so close - and eventually he feels you tighten around his fingers as you bite your lip. The whimpers you let out of your mouth are the sweetest, most gentle thing he's ever heard; He wants so much more.

He removes his fingers slowly and listens to the whine you let out, as they leave you empty.

He’ll give you something much larger- you just have to be patient. He would call you greedy- if he didn’t know you’ve been long neglected since Lorgar’s punishment.

Horus' cock aches and throbs, twitching at the sight of your ass when he flips you over onto your stomach. You let out little noises as his handling, even with as gentle as he can be.

It'll be easier this way; Your thighs can't spread wide enough for you to take all of him, this way he can sink into you fully. As he does- Listening to your sweet little mewls and whines as your face grimaces in pleasure, as he groans at the feeling of your puffy wet cunt tightening around him until his balls press against your ass.

The way you feel is indescribable, your hot, velvety walls wrap around him so snug it’s like you’re pulling him in deeper.

The sound of skin of skin echoes in the room filling it, along with the sound of his grunts and your whines like music. Horus is almost lost in it, feeling the way your whines get higher in pitch when he drives himself deeper and the thick base of his cock fills you past your limit.

He’s big, he knows that well, but you take him so well and he’s being so gentle. You'll get used to it overtime, he has no doubt.

You attempt to rise up onto your elbows but quickly fall, face pressing back into the pillow and blankets. Horus chuckles and places a hand on your lower back.

“Careful, my dear.” You do little more than whimper in response, feeling the way he twitches inside of you and groans deeply. Suddenly your body tenses under his grip, and you once again try to rise up.

“W-wait, please don’t-“

He sinks himself deeper, barely pulling out a third of his cock with each thrust. You whimper some more, words jumbled together, but they’re all noise as he finally cums inside of you. You tense at the feeling; The warmth spreading through you as you feel his cock twitch over and over again inside of you.

He feels your gasp as the head of his cock stretches and pops out of your entrance, leaving his cum to partially slide out of you.

“Horus…”

You whisper, and he can see your eyes glistening. He cradles the back of your head with his hand and leans to press his lips to the corner of your mouth.

“What do you want, my love?”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Always have but never hold

Previous chapter

a/n Welcome to the tenth and final part. Do tell me if you think this should go on. I'm at the crossroads. Not too fully sure where to go on with this from here. These two have had a journey so had I. Thank you for everyone who tagged along. 🤍✨

warnings: nightmares, overwhelming feelings, past trauma, miscommunication (should have been a warning from the start lol).

Parts in cursive are flashbacks.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

How surreal is the concept of meeting someone and having them change your life forever? Finding a soul that radiates the same energy, or at least the energy that attracts you. Feeling drawn to them. Craving to bask in the warmth of their presence because it just feels right. Because it feels true. Because it feels safe. And you can't help it. No matter what. No matter the obstacles. No matter the fears. That person's soul is there, and all you want to do and think about is how you can't let them go. It was weird. Everything still felt so confusing. It was surreal at times when you would wake up in your old bed, cuddled up between the sheets that you both used to lay under. All the what-ifs and why-not, questioning the choice of staying. Choosing to grow and forgive to allow someone to stay.

Carmen walked through the door. A neatly wrapped package of food was in his hands. He started doing that a lot—bringing food home from family. And not just leftovers, not just something that someone didn't eat. A whole, fully intentional meal. The apartment seemed too silent, and at first, anxiety kicked in—that same anxiety of losing. But the dull light from the living room soon chased those thoughts away. And that's when he saw you. A knitted blanket over your body. Book in your hands, the smell of the scented candles filling the room. And then there were your eyes. The gaze that found him. And Carmen was smiling, soaking up the sight in front of him.

"You're home early", you said as Carmen quickly shrugged off his jacket. "Yeah, not much we could do today. Plus, I had a meeting with the doctor". You close the book, sit up, and allow Carmen some space on the sofa. "How did it go?", the past couple of weeks have felt pretty much like a daze. After an endless amount of tears and conversations, you agreed to move back in with Carmen. Marcus had flown back to Copenhagen alongside Luca. Meaning that you would have to pay for the place you had been renting on your own. And that wasn't an option because you were already tight on money. Was Luca excited to leave you alone in Chicago? No, he was not, but he chose to not fight your choice too much.

"Just be sensible", he said, "Both with your choice and yourself", you hugged him tightly. Letting go of your lifeline felt weird. It left you vulnerable. Fully exposed to the cold world around you. But you knew that you couldn't hide behind Luca forever. "You know that I love you, right?", he muttered, pulling away slightly. "Us against the world forever", you looked at him. Truly look at the man in front of you. The person who jumped in to save you so many times. Who took the hit meant for you. Who drove for hours to get to you. Who sat in the doctor's office with you. "Do you think this is a mistake?", you asked him, but there was no suggestive reaction on Luca's face as he said, "Listen to your heart and then consult with your brain just in case", you had chuckled at his words before you pulled away.

And now you are here with Carmen. Unsure of what status you two held. Partners? Lovers? Exes? Strangers? Sitting in the apartment, which had been clear evidence of Carmen's pain. The distraction painted the apartment in a heap of mess. "I didn't like it. I mean, I never do", Carmen ran his hands through his hair. "It still feels strange. But people... like, I don't know, do they eventually stop finding it weird?", he asked you. Considering that you both were in therapy now, recapping and running through your conversations with doctors was something you did a lot. Strangely, you found comfort in it.

"I don't think you do", you whispered after a moment. "Picture it like this. Does it ever get easier to tell strangers that something in your life fucked you over so much that now you need to see a doctor?", you both snickered, and Carmen moved to open up the boxed food. It felt almost as if you were roommates once again. Just differently from that time in New York, you didn't want one to move out. You were fighting to make this work. To keep one another. To grow the roots that would hold you together.

"How was the art gallery?", you looked up at him in a way surprised that he even remembered. "Exciting. They want me to work on a project with them", you said as if it was nothing. But Carmen's eyes were big, and you could feel true joy in them. "Wait! That's awesome. That's... I'm proud of you", he muttered. You watched him. His sparkly eyes now reminded you of the time he sneaked into an art tour you were doing back in New York. Asking just the right questions. Making the lazy tourists roll their eyes. But your heart had been so full. "I'm meeting with them this Friday for dinner", you said. "Maybe they'll change their minds till then", you shrugged, reaching for the pasta in front of you. "They won't", Carmen said, making you chuckle, "You don't know that", "I know that you're awesome", you sucked in a breath as you watched him for a moment. Letting his words truly sink in.

Carmen's been watching you for a while now. Not in a creepy way, though. He was just mesmerized by how someone was capable of looking so beautiful even while fast asleep. You two had decided to watch a show after dinner. He knew you wouldn't last long. You never did. Getting sleepy almost immediately. The distance between you two seemed astronomical, yet you were only a couple of feet away. Sat at the other end of the sofa. Carmen wished he could hug you. No, he would have settled for anything. But then he at least wanted to feel your body heat. Anything to let him know that this wasn't just all in his head. That you weren't just a cruel joke of his imagination. Carmen watched your eyebrows crinkling up—another bad dream, he thought. And within moments, even while still asleep, you looked so much smaller. So much more powerless as the demons lurking in the shadows took over. Carmen wasted no time scooting closer to you, his fingers brushing the hair away from your face. A scared cry left your lips, and it was as if Carmen's body was working on autopilot. His arms sneaked around your middle as he pressed his chest against your back, bringing you closer to him. Your fingers reach out to grasp his arms. "I've got you", he muttered, "You're safe here. I'll keep you safe". His face was nuzzled in your hair as he spoke. A loud gasp filled the room as your body jerked up, only to fall against Carmen's chest. You let out a shaky breath as you tightened Carmen's hold around you. Afraid you might fall. Afraid you might crumble if he lets go. "Stay", you whispered, holding onto him even tighter. "I was not planning on going anywhere", Carmen muttered, kissing your shoulder.

"I like the black plates. He, of course, has zero opinion until he suddenly has so many opinions that I feel like I will have a whiplash", Sydney said in frustration over the phone. You giggled slightly at how she never failed to call you every time Carmen got on her nerves. "Do the gray one and meet him in the middle", you suggest, dunking your brush into the paint before adding new strokes to the canvas. "Grey, they only have grey with blue", Sydney growls, "I give up". You drop the brush into the water jug. "You want me to come down? Look through it?", you ask her softly. You've been away from the restaurant ever since the fire. Well, not fully away considering that Sydney had turned to your daily reporter, but still. You hadn't put your foot down on that property. "I... You're busy. I don't want to bother you", she dragged out. "I'll be down in a bit. Hold the front line till then, Syd", you told her before hanging up.

It felt almost like a flashback as you made your way down to the restaurant. Flashbacks of your heading there with Carmy right after the funeral. The times you ran up and down the street for nearby deliveries. The times you stood outside with him, just holding his hands and breathing. The times you smoked outside trying to fight your own overwhelming emotions. You never hated the concept of the restaurant. Quite the opposite; it was an interesting little bubble. You valued Carmy's love for food, even if it wasn't your own. Well, a lie. You learned to love food from him.

"Okay, hold it like this", he said, standing right behind you and guiding your hands. Showing you how to cut properly. "Don't use the tips of your fingers to hold", he said, carefully moving your fingers to a proper position. "And then you do that fast shit? Chop, chop, chop", Carmy lets out a low laugh at your impression. Turning to kiss the side of your head, "Maybe no chop, chop just yet. Get used to cutting veggies like this first. The speed of it will come with practice". You made a sad face before saying, "You do it then; it's captivating", you handed Carmen the knife, resting your face in your hands as you watched him do his thing with a light smirk on his face.

Carmen was feeling his anxiety beating right into his ribcage. The people around him were too loud. Too demanding. He felt like the sounds around him were slowly suffocating him. Ruthlessly dunking his head under the water. Keeping him under even as his lungs ran out of oxygen. All he heard was Carmy this and Carmy that. It felt like one of those torture techniques where your libs were tight to different horses, each pulling you to all four different sides. Carmen didn't have answers to the questions people were demanding. He simply didn't know, and now...

"What's all the shouting for?", and that's all it takes. It feels as if everything around him dies down. His lungs now easily welcomed the air around him. Mind slowing down. He lets out a deep sigh as his eyes fall over your frame. Hair up in a messy bun, the one that he loved so much, with loose pieces framing your face. You have one of Carmy's old shirts on. There's a paint stain on it, and for some reason, that makes him smile a little. His salvation. His love. His home.

"My girl", Tina rushes forward, wrapping you up in a tight embrace. "It's been weeks; let me look at you", she cups your face, looking you all over. You can't help but smile at her. Without a doubt, you missed her presence during your weeks away. "You look pale as paper", she says, shaking her head. "I'll make you my mama's soup. I will get you back on your feet", At this point, you're almost convinced that her eyes will not leave you, no matter where you go. "It's not necessarily, Ti", you move to squeeze her hands, but she only huffs, "It's a must, Mi Nino. With a man like that you have to run around", she scoffed Carmy's way, but he only clenched his jaw. Choosing to stay silent. "I'll steal Carmen for a moment and then be out to help", you glance at Sydney reassuringly, watching as her hands full of plates sag at her sides, but you don't let yourself think about it much as you step forward, brushing your fingers against Carmen's wrist before dragging him towards the office.

"You're okay?", you breathed out once the door closed behind you two. It was silent for a moment. Just Carmen's irregular breathing. Your fingers were still intertwined with his, and from the grip Carmy had on them, you knew he had no intention of letting go. "It's just... I just... don't know shit", his voice was barely a whisper. You nod. "Talk to me about it", you mutter. His eyes find you. Talk. Such an easy thing, right? Not to your two lately. But you've both been trying. Trying to not only listen but also hear. See without being asked to. "Yeah, I think I can do that", he says, nodding his head. You brush your fingers through his messy hair, nodding alongside him.

When you emerge from the office, it's a solid hour later. You have sketches in your hands. The idea of the restaurant. Visuals for plating and a whole Pinterest board just for the restaurant vibe itself. Sydney is sitting by the table, her head resting on the surface. A lot had changed while you were away. The place had been closed. At least three walls were missing. There was a mold issue. But mole issues no more... You'll get to that eventually.

"Right, so he wants a classy, sophisticated look. Something that would be good for plating different dishes in", you plop your sketchbook to the table. Reaching for the plate closest to you. "And he couldn't just tell me that?", Sydney huffed, "How do you meet his brain waves?" You let out a chuckle. Oddly enough, you had learned to read Carmy's mind as if it was a book. "So what did he say no to?", you asked her once more. "Amm, let me see. Fucking everything", Sydney gives you a fake smile, and you bit your lip, suppressing a laugh.

With your phone on the side, the mood board opened, you glance from the plaits to the visuals. Quickly making a yes and no line. Sorting everything into different plating arrangements. Mixing pricier pieces with more affordable ones. Pulling up a color palette for different napkin options. Once you were satisfied, you drew your eyes back to Sydney, who stood there with her mouth slightly open. "That's some dark magic shit", she breathed out. "Be careful; it might turn you into a frog", you shimmy your fingers in front of her face before pulling her closer. "This is... This is perfect", her eyes scanned the table in front of her. "Get everyone to vote for what they like best", you suggest; "Carmy will like this", you point to the third option. The contrasting plate colors and clean-edged dishes were something that no doubt would bring him back to Michelin-class places.

You slipped outside for a quick smoke. Enjoying the little breeze of the evening. Needing a little moment to yourself. You breathed out the smoke carelessly before realizing that you were not alone. "Oh, sorry", you quickly chase the cloud away, adding, "You're okay?". The greenish-pale face was clear evidence of nausea. "Just... It's really warm inside", you only nodded in agreement. And then the silence falls, but the insane kind. The one that you know holds a lot of unsaid feelings. You try to ignore it but fail miserably, "Just say what's on your mind, Natalie".

The woman shakes her head. "I feel guilty", she admits, about the whole Claire situation". That name itself sends a shiver down your back. "Don't waste your breath on it; Richie already told me everything", you take another drag from your cigarette but blow out a smoke away from Nat, not wanting to make her feel any sicker. "I never had a girl friend in the family. Boys had been shit with ladies", she breathed out. "But then you came, and there were so many emotions, and I didn't know you, and maybe I got jealous", you turned to look at her once her words died down. "So... you decided to break me and Carmy apart because you were jealous?", you ask her. "Wow, this family is truly insane", you breathed out, shaking your head.

"I just needed someone familiar; we all needed someone familiar,", Natalie said, but you only shook your head. "That's very hypocritical of you. Carmy already knew me very well, may I add. You could have gotten to know me too". She falls silent for a moment. "Did Richie tell you about the letter?", she asked, not meeting your eyes. "What letter?", you breathed out. Nat nods her head as if reassuring herself before saying, "Michael wrote a letter. It didn't say anything about me and Richie besides the general love you all", she said, "But he mentioned Carmy so many times, and...", her voice died down. She looked like a frozen statue for a moment. "Your name was there too. Mikey felt like an ass that he won't get to meet Carmen's future wife. Won't get to tell you embarrassing stories. Won't hold your kids", those words make your own eyes sting. Breath hitching in your throat. You were not sure of what to say.

"I'm pregnant, you know, and he didn't say anything about my kids", she said through gritted teeth. She moved to wipe her tears away quickly. "Oh, Natalie", you said, dropping the cigarette to the side before stepping closer to her. "It was so fucking petty, and I've been feeling so guilty, but I just wanted something to finally be about me", she crocked out as more tears came rushing down her cheeks. You quickly embraced her, bringing her hiccuping body closer to your chest.

"I've never wanted to...", she cried, but you shook your head. "I was never here to take your space and take your brothers away from you. They both love you a lot, believe me", you reassured her. "You stood up for Carmy at the funeral. No one had been so direct with our mother... I just wanted", she whispered, and all you could do was nod because you knew very well what she wanted. Something that you too had been wanting for so long. Someone who could protect her. To always have her back. To turn into a shield against the harsh world around her. That's what Luca was to you. That's what you were to Carmen. "I'm so sorry", she pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes. "I know, Nat, and I forgive you", you muttered, brushing your sleeve over her damp cheeks, "Now come on, you'll get a cold here, and we need to get you something to drink".

Everyone had eventually gone home. But not before eating the soup that Tina had made while sitting on cardboard boxes together. Only now did you realize how much you had missed this in some way. The little gathering after the day. Something warming to look forward to. Sydney put Marcus on the phone, and to see his beaming face was one of the most rewarding things. You knew you had Luca to thank for that. For bringing back the passion and excitement that used to bubble in Marcus. Richie had pulled into a little side hug before he too stepped out of the place. "I'm glad to see you back", he muttered. You didn't say anything; you just squeezed his hand in return.

"What are you doing here?", Carmy's voice brought you back to the room. You had slipped away to look at the wall facing the entrance. A big white wall that was staring right at you. "Just looking", you muttered. Carmen sat down beside you, following your gaze. He didn't say anything for a while. The silence felt like a warm blanket. "You should paint this wall, or we could hand one of your paintings", Carmy said, and you quickly turned to face him. "That's the main wall", you breathed out. "Exactly why it should be painted by you. If you want to, of course", Carmen stated firmly.

He gazed at you, catching your eyes already on him. "You were thinking about it yourself, weren't you?", Carmen asked, knowing the answer right away when your checks went pink. "I was...but with everything", you breathed out, "It's weird because I love you so much, but I still feel like there are so many things that we need to rebuild".

Carmen reached for your hand, lifting it to his lips before kissing your delicate skin a couple of times. "There's no rush", he breathed out, turning the ring on your finger, "I know where I want to get to. I know what the final destination looks like". You crook your head to the side. Reaching up to brush your fingers through his hair. "Do you want to share?", you ask shyly. Carmy pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. "It's nothing complicated. You and me. That's all I need", he breathes out, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips. You reached up, brushing your fingers across Carmy's cheek, and he instantly leaned into your touch. "I think I like that kind of future", you breathed out. His big blue eyes seize you once more. And there's a shy smile on his face. "You do?", he asks, and you nod your head. You run your thumb over his lips a couple of times, and then he's brushing his lips against your own, and it feels like the first time all over again. The same heat rushes to your cheeks. And it's nothing but slow love that you can promise each other now. Patient love that grows alongside you both. One that doesn't put labels. Just promises to keep you both warm. All you need to do is to promise to hold onto one another.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @nishinoyahhh @thewulf @shewasthelimit @chatitajens @azxulaa @hidingfromtex @randomhoex @hopplessdreamer @lostinheavensworld @jackierose902109 @gallaghrh @gabbycoady13 @harrysmatcha @lady-bellyn @lovejoyenjoyer @infinitelycharmed23 @royalestrellas @hanula18 @thoughtfulmoonchild911 @buckys-winter-child @arieltwvdtohamflash @simsiddy @yezzyyae @hidingfromtex @toptierbunny @rooster-bradshaws @simonsaysyasss @hannahmmarie2016 @ladygrey03 @kyushii @smoooore @domaniquessidehoe @eternallyvenus @your-favorite-god @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @blueberrystigma

[redsrooftopprincess]

Assassin, Part 5

(completely forgot to add the link to this to literally anything. 🤦🏻 I'm so sorry if any of you missed this chapter)

Fem Reader x Raphael

No warnings

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Eyes used to the near complete darkness of the foyer, a shaft of moonlight nearly blinds him. It floods the sitting room, casting a fractured skyline on the wall, and in the center of the room, opposite the empty fireplace, a goddess lies asleep.

Seven steps, as if caught by the tide, he is pulled to you, pale and cold in the moonlight. Lying on the chaise lounge, your green dress looks like a moonlit landscape, and the silk clings to every peak and valley beneath. A manifestation of the living, breathing earth.

He looks down at you in reverence. You'd brought warmth and light and beauty into his cold concrete world. Hundreds of years ago, he would have built temples to you. Your devoted.

You shift in your sleep and the landscape changes, bringing him out of his reverie. He's exhausted, and he's hurting, but he can't just leave you out here.

He looks at the fragile wooden staircase that leads up to your room, and sighs. D hasn't gotten around to reinforcing them yet, but Raph is the only one who's too heavy to make it upstairs, so it hasn't really been a priority.

He kneels, taking you into his arms and carrying you to his room.

Unable to move his hammock from the lair, he typically uses a blanket covered pile of pillows in the back room. It seems almost blasphemous, lying you on something so vulgar. But it's all he can offer you, and he does the best he can.

He covers you with a blanket, stealing one last glance at your face in the moonlight, and turns to make his way out of the room. It'd be easy enough to sleep in the barn, and it wouldn't be the first time. He stops short when a soft voice calls from behind him.

"Raphael?"

Fuck.

He closes his eyes and sighs before turning around. You're staring up at him with sleepy eyes still hazy from tears and champagne, and push yourself to sitting.

He looks down at you with an unreadable expression. As consciousness comes back into focus, fractured memories of the evening flood you.

He'd said no. He'd said no and you kept pressuring him. You made it so that there was no way you could play it off as a one time thing. A fluke. You couldn't pretend that you thought he was someone else, or that you were too drunk to know what you were doing. You wanted him, and you made that clear, and now things are going to be weird until they completely fall apart, but you have to do *something*.

You broke it.

You *have* to fix it.

"I'm sorry... If I made you uncomfortable tonight, I..." You blink the tears back behind your eyes, and words come pouring out of you instead, "I know I should have stopped asking after the first time you said 'no,' but I was drinking and I know that's no excuse, but I swear it won't happen again and I know I ruined everything, but if we could just pretend none of it ever happened..."

"(Y/N)..." He interrupts softly. Closing his eyes tight and rubbing his forehead. He was hearing noise and processing none of it.

That's when you see it, in his dull amber eyes, in the way he seems too tired to carry himself. He'd crashed, and he'd crashed hard. This conversation was not going to happen tonight.

Instinct has you reaching out to him. You take his hand and pull gently, he's too tired to resist. He lies beside you on the pile of pillows and you pull yourself against him, fingertips gently gripping the upper lip of his plastron, head resting under his chin.

He can't help it, he wraps himself around you, pulling you far closer and far tighter than is probably wise, and buries his nose in your hair.

He needs this. He needs you close. Even if you're the reason he's hurting, you're still the place he runs to. Home.

He breathes you in and lets sleep finally claim him.

(FIN)

...

Less a lover, more a fighter

But I'm tired of fighting to hold on

Got too many scars to hide them

So it's easier being on my own

But you

Shoot first, draw blood, before I know

Yeah you

One shot, one touch, and I let go

How did this happen?

My walls were up and

You moved without a sound

Never imagined, like an assassin

One look to me down...

Assassin, Sultan + Shepherd

...

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @footninja

[willowtoy]

God I fucking love getting used and fucked to the point of being completely cockdrunk. Getting settled in to bed and deciding to just ditch my boxers because they were riding up and rubbing my dick so I couldn't get comfortable. My boyfriend joins me, and I feel his cock press against my ass.

He softly runs his hand against me, down my side, up my abs a bit. Down my thigh and ass, squeezing and grabbing. He pulls my legs to be more open, moving his hand to my dick and starting to jerk me off. Soft noises escape my throat, pressing my hips towards his hand as he goes harder and faster until I'm humping his hand, struggling to use my voice and beg him for more as I feel myself get close. He holds me tighter and grinds his now hard cock against my ass, growling into my ear to cum for him. When I'm finally pushed over the edge gasping, he let's me ride it out before pulling his hand away and shifting me.

He slides a plug into my ass, making my cunt ache even more eith emptiness. Although the feeling doesn't last long, and I feel him rub his cock against me until I find my voice to say "please just fuck me", the desperation obvious in my voice. With that he slides into me balls deep and making me groan happily from the fullness. Barely giving me time to adjust, he starts thrusting, slow at first but quickly speeding up. His hands going from pressing down on the small of my back to gripping my ass, hips and thighs, to grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling my head from the blankets to hear my moans and noises.

Soon enough I feel myself getting close again, and when I try to warn him and ask to cum he grips my hair and pulls my head back, not slowing down one bit "don't you fucking dare cum yet. You do not get to xum without permission. Hold it, ride that edge" his voice almost a growl. When I can barely hold it in I manage to mumble out a warning and he stops his movement completely, leaving me desperately clenching around his cock. "Not until I say so." He gives us both just a moment to catch our breath before quickly going back to his pace. He keeps teasing me like this, getting me to the point of begging to cum, barely able to hold back, saying things like "oh you want to cum? You wanna cum on my cock so bad.. too bad, not yet", "you love just begging to cum on my cock, too bad you aren't going to yet", "yeah, you're so close? You can't hold it? Then I guess I'll have to stop". When I'm at the point of almost any movement being able to get me close, finally he tells me "that's it, cum on my cock. Cum all over my cock, good boy, keep going, do it again until I tell you to hold it." I'm in total bliss, my hands gripping thr bedsheets as I cum around him.

His only reaction is to speed up, hitting right where I'm most sensitive over and over again. Fucking me through one orgasm into another over and over again until I'm gasping and my lower body is twitching. When he's satisfied and we're both out of breath he slows down and pulls out, giving us a minute to catch our breath and have a sip of water.

He asks me if I want to tap out and I say no, so I'm pulled up on top of him. He quickly starts fucking up into me, whispering to not cum I fight to hold it in, my eyes shut tight and focusing my energy on following his instruction. Soon enough I'm struggling to keep my control and start begging to cum. He speeds up and whispers to me to not cum, and I can only hold out another minute or two before the orgasm explodes from me, to the point where I squirt. I'm fucked through it before he shoves me off, while I struggle to apologize.

"You just can't listen can you? You're so greedy, you needed to cum so bad you just had to disobey?" As he speaks he positions me so I'm face down, and starts tying my legs so I can't cover myself. "If you're so desperate to cum then fine, cum all you want but I'm not stopping until you're stuffed full and dripping my cum. And maybe even after" he punctuates with a slap to my ass, and presses a vibrator into my hand "full power. Don't you dare take it off" he tells me before sliding into me.

I nod softly, clucking the vibrstor on to full power and pressing it against me and moaning into the pillow. Once it's going he starts pounding into me, making me cum over and over until they just blur together. I eventually find my voice, and between pathetic noises of pleasure I manage "please cum in me, please, please, please fucking fill me fucking breed me please please please-" I repeat the chant like a prayer, my mind a blur from the pleasure. He grunts out that he's close and to keep talking like that, going rougher until finally I feel his cock twitch as he fills me with his cum, thrusting slowly until he's done. He pulls the vibrator away from me and out of my hand before he pulls out, watching a drop of cum slowly leak from my cunt and down my dick.

"Now we can't have you wasting that, can we?" He teases, using his thumb to gather it up and pushing it back into my cunt. "You can cum for me one more time, yeah? I wanna watch you fucking squirt while my cum is fucked into your greedy little cunt" I whine, but nod softly. He ties my hands behind my back and doesn't hesitate to push the vibrator back against my dick and start fucking me with a dildo. It doesn't take more than a couple minute of me whining and him encouraging me to cum before one last orgasm explodes from me, spraying onto his hands.

He praises me softly as he stops, pulling the vibrator away and carefully untying me, my cunt still stuffed with the dildo. "Good boy, you were so good for me. Can you keep that in tonight? Keep my cum from leaking and keep you nice and open if I need to fill you again tonight" he whispers into my neck, kissing me softly and holding me close to his chest, quickly lulling me to sleep.

[tr45hy45h]

SPIKE PRATT X AFAB READRR!! (!!!SMUT!!!)

Your POV-

I was sitting on the couch eating mac and cheese and watching some comedy show on tje TV waiting for my boyfriend spike to come home from fighting demons with angel,me and spike have been very distant lately and i don't know why.I was interrupted by my own thoughts when I heard the front door open and slam shut.

I turned around to see who entered and to my shock I see spike,slightly coverdale in blood with a torn up shirt.I stand up and walk over to him to ask him of he was ok but before I could ask him anything he just put his hand up and said "I don't wanna talk about it m'love" I wasn't shocked at all,spike never spoke about his feelings that often so I just nodded and walked into the kitchen to get him a glass of water.

I give the water to him and sit down next to him. "Are you ok?.." I ask him,he turns to me and sips his water "I'm fine." He placed the cup of water on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch.i pursed my lips and looked at him "take your anger out on me.." he turned to me and smirked.

Next thing I know my clothes are getting torn off by him with him kissing all over my exposed skin.he took his shirt off and I ran my hand down his chest to tease him slightly but he grabbed my hand and pinned bith of my hands above my head "I'm incharged" he said before he growled and started kissing down my stomach to the rum of my panties.he looked up at me and I nodded giving him consent (consent is key ☝🏻) he let go of my hands and he started kissing my clothed pussy through my panties "fuckk,your so wet for me darling" he said as he trailed the tip of his fingers up and down my thighs.

He took off my panties and threw them across the living room and he placed his middle finger on my clit,drawing circles around it.I whimpered under his touch and he slide his middle finger down and slid it into my hole making me arch my back and whimper.

He chuckled as I tightened around his finger and he slide his index finger inside me stretching me out. I was a moaning mess,I could feel my orgasm increase in my lower stomach but before I could come he pulled his fingers out of me. I could hear him undo his belt and pull his pants down and positions himself infront of my hole,he placed his hands on my hips and trusted slowly into me. My hands shot to his white hair and I pulled on it softly, his hips met mine wich ment he was balls deep inside me. His breathing started getting heavier "s-so..tight!..aah~" all I could do was whimper in response.

-

I'm now laying on the bed.iv lost count of how many times iv came,tears stained my face all I could do was moan as spike came in me over and over again.he moan loudly as he came inside me a 5th time?6th time? I can't remember, I'm so fucked out right now. He pulled out slowly and bend over to kiss me softly on the lips and whisperd "I love you" I couldn't even speak all I could do was smile weakly. He layed down on his stomach and placed his head inbetween my legs and started placing soft kisses on my thighs. I ran my hand through his hair softly as he kissed closer and closer to my pussy. He gently licked my clit,I whimpered in pleasure but also feeling overestimated. He moved his tounge faster and I moaned louder and I pulled on his hair and wrapped my thighs around his head as I was getting closer and closer to another orgasm,he slid his index finger inside of me and that was enough to through me over the edge, I came all over his tounge and finger. Spike sat up and layed next to me cuddling me into his chest and wrapped us nith in the blanket, he gently kissed my fourhead and I fell asleep in his arms.

--

I'm so sorry this took so long to upload i was logged out of my account and I couldn't remember my password 😭😭

Also I've mare an edit of buffy and spike sooo if you wanna see that lemme know 🫶🏻🫶🏻

-ash<3

[the-californicationist]

I don't know if your like closed on the requests so sorry if it's closed I don't know!!

Anyways my birthday is tmrw (the 9th of February-im turning 21!!) And I want to know if you can make me like a birthday smut story on like soap ghost and price (maybe Konig if you want!) Different POVs on what they would get me- please!!! -🐼

Not closed! Just fighting the world's worst writer's block T_T

But! I'd love to celebrate your birthday! Here's what I think the boys would get you (NSFW/MDNI18+):

Ghost is definitely getting you food. He's taking you to all your favorites spots for breakfast, lunch, AND dinner. He stops for snacks, gets you practically stuffed to the gills so you're nice and sleepy from being so full.

"Wanna lay down for a bit of a rest, sweet girl? Had a long day, didn't ya?"

You nod, curling up with him on his big sofa. He covers you up with a blanket and you drift off to sleep. Only... when you wake up later, you feel... hands...

"Si... ?" You call out to him, opening your eyes slowly.

When you look up, he's staring right at you. You've been stripped down to your bra and panties, and he's using his fingers to lightly play at the elastic edge of your lace bottoms, tickling you ever so gently.

"Are you still full, baby? 'Cause I'm ready to feed you something else."

Price is more traditional. He gets you a nice card, two dozen roses, and a pretty necklace. A choker. You don't notice at first, but it's not just a choker after all; it's a collar. The little gold bell tinkles as he loops it around your neck, and he fastens it just tight enough to let you feel it, but not too much.

Later, when you're on your knees, thanking him for his gift, he uses it to pull you down just a little further, inch by inch, training you how to swallow his cock deeper into your mouth.

The collar tightens then, pushed from the inside as his girth stretches down your tongue and into your throat.

"Poor little pet," he purrs darkly down at you, "Did you forget about your birthday spankings? You're getting better at your training, so I'll take care of that arse for you, don't you worry."

Soap buys you skydiving lessons. It's your first time, but he's a certified instructor. So, he gets to be strapped behind you. As you board the plane, he fastens you to him, claiming he needs to go ahead and get you into position - just in case.

You are sitting on his lap, positioned between his knees, feeling his cock as it grows along your lower back, hardening to an impossible length.

He unzips your flight suit just enough to play with your soft nipples, pinching them to make you squirm against him, using your writhing body to rub his cock.

"Tha's it, hen," he teases you, "Gotta work out all that nervous energy, hm?"

He can't get to your soaking core through the one-piece suit, but he palms your pussy on the outside, pressing the fabric into your clit, rubbing you until you're practically humping his dick through your clothes.

"Fuck, lass. You're gonna make me come if you cannae sit still. Be a good girl for me until we jump."

The jump is exhilarating, and you actually feel like you're gliding back down to earth. You had no idea the parachute would be so quiet and relaxing compared to the loud plane.

Now that you're safely floating, he unzips your flight suit a little further and frees your breasts, letting them out into the open air. He told you that you couldn't take your hands off of the parachute straps, so all you can do is surrender to his desires.

As he plays with your hardening nipples, licking his fingers to make them slippery wet, you can feel him humping his cock against your ass, getting himself off on you. He's pressing his hand so hard between your legs, he's practically fingering your panties into you, dragging your body backwards with each thrust to pleasure himself.

"Fuckin' hell, lass. Such a good girl for me. Tha's it, hold those straps tight. I'm so close. So bloody close."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hope this was what you wanted for your birthday!! <3 <3

[six-eyed-samurai]

hii so I have been reading lots of your fics and oh my God I was wondering if you could do either denki or tamaki x reader where shes fighting w/ a best friend and shes breaking down and they comfort her about it? thank you for reading!!! - 🌀

SUMMARY: Denki does his best to patch you up after yet another argument with your best friend...and your shirt as well. A/N: I have no idea how long this has been sitting in my inbox AND I'M SORRY I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT also I love spiral emojis can anyone tell WARNINGS: Fem! Reader, your best friend kinda-

Denki isn't the greatest at reading one of the world's most mysterious creations (women; beautiful creations but mysterious and unexplainable creations nonetheless) but he's pretty sure you throwing your phone down to scream into your rolled up jacket is a definite indicator that something is wrong.

That's kinda odd, because he's also pretty sure he cleaned up his room before you came over to chill and he hasn't done anything dumb today…yet. And you both hadn't really seen anyone else since your movie marathon started so Denki can't think of anyone who's around to frustrate you like that either. Maybe you don't like the chips he bought? But you're hoarding them, so maybe it's the juice box flavour? He quickly checks the one in his hand - nope, it's the one you specifically asked for.

Wisely Denki decides to wait until you finish raging on the poor pillow before asking. “Hey, are you…uh…am I drinking too loudly or something? Or is there some other reason as to why you're bullying my pillow?”

“It's stupid. Nothing to worry about.” You lift your head up, something irritable in your expression as you bend down to pick up your fallen phone. The way you're digging your nails into his blanket now is a big contrast to your words though.

Denki freezes in scrolling for the next movie, closing his laptop. “When my girlfriend starts acting like Bakugo right before he explodes I think it must mean something.”

“I'll get over it,” you grumbled, sinking deeper into the hoodie he had lent you. “Let's just get on with the movie.”

“Uh…sure. Nothing I did, right?”

“Nah, don't worry. Like I said, it's stupid.” You shake your head and shift closer, returning to your position of leaning your head on him as he selects a classic and starts playing.

You're still pissed off, Denki can tell, with the way you're still mumbling under your breath and the crease between your eyebrows is still there. And you're squeezing your juice box a little too tight (much as he loves you Denki will FREAK if juice drips on his bed) to be considered normal. What could've made you so upset in the short intermission between movies?

Hmmm. Consulting his council of brain cells Denki reaches the conclusion that it must be something you had seen on your phone with his great powers of observation and also because it's pinging like mad right now.

Leaving you focused on the scene being played (”No, Charlotte, you dumbass, don't go in there!”), Denki pretends to reach for a new bag of chips and not so subtly knocks your phone to the floor. He leans down to get it and in doing so turns it on and…woah. That's a lot of notifications, even for your best friend. Gossip? Reels?

“Kaminari, you know I can see you spying on my phone, right?”

Denki jolts a little from the shock (literally. Electrification Quirks and jumpy attitudes don't mix well).

“I was not!”

“Hand it over with no questions then.” You raise your eyebrows, hand outstretched.

“…” He surrenders it. “So, uh, that's a lot of spam from your bestie, huh?”

“What did I say about no questions?”

“I take it we're not watching the movie anymore then? Cause, if you wanna talk about it, I'm all ears. Listener boyfriend and I am amazing at keeping secrets, swear.”

You give him the stink eye. “Not so sure about that…ugh, it's nothing. Just really stupid.”

“I'm all for stupid.” Denki pulls you back onto his lap and starts playing with your hair and rubbing your shoulders; hey, you're comfortable and he'll get to hear the tea, so win win. “Spill.”

“Ugh. You're so annoying, you know that?” Your words held no bite though, not when you're succumbing to Denki’s comfortable hold. “Just had a fight with my best friend. You know how it is.”

“And what was it about?” Denki prompts.

“She borrowed one of my shirts and said she'd wash it for me in return.” Man, it sounded like such a petty reason to fight about now that you're saying it aloud. “But she shrunk it by mistake.”

“Oof. I mean, that kinda bad. Did she apologize?”

“That's the thing, she didn't. I wasn't mad at first, y'know, but she just kept insisting I didn't tell her she had to wash it this specific way and I just got irritated. Like, is saying a sorry really so hard?” You threw up your hands indignantly. “So I'll admit I shouldn't have snapped at her and now here we are, blowing things out of proportion and arguing over text.”

“I take it back, that's kinda harsh.”

“Yeah! Ugh.”

“Wait, which shirt was it?”

“It's the one you gave me….so we'd match…!” You wailed.

“SHE DIDN'T!” Denki gasped.

A moment of silence passed for the lost shirt.

“And like, I’m just so tired of arguing about it with her all the time. How hard is it to say “sorry”, huh? It's one word!” Your ranting vent comes to a muffled stop as you bury your face into a pillow. “I felt really bad I made such a fuss over it - ‘cause it's an honest simple mistake right? And she's my friend and I'm thinking all these things of her like “she's always been like this”, “why is she such a drama queen”. But then she told me that if I was so worked up over the stupid shirt I shouldn't have given it to her in the first place. Jerk.”

“Yeah, I don't think you mean that.” Denki gently pushed you onto your side before you accidentally choked yourself of air. “I’m sure you guys will get over it and out of your systems - you and I've argued over worse and here we are, you love me, I love you-”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “Keep dreaming, Jamming Whey.”

“Wow, I comfort you and this is what I get?” He clutched his heart. “ANYWAYS, my point is that she's probably just acting like this because she feels bad that she messed up big time. Heck, one time I avoided Kirishima like the plague ‘cause I kinda tore his Crimson Riot poster just a teeny little bit…”

“You did not!”

“He still doesn't know so…I guess that's a moot point…” Denki gestured wildly. “Moving on, okay! My point is that you're also not an ass for getting sick and tired and mad and all of the above at her because it's normal! Like, if you didn't get mad that'd be weird. Plus, who cares about the shirt I used all my savings on and we didn't get a chance to match yet! We can buy another one! And if your bestie still has shit to say, we could always set Mina against her.”

“You're so eloquent, Kaminari.” The sarcasm in the droll words was evident, but it was rendered meaningless as you hung off his neck, tucking your face in between his shoulder blades. Your next words were quietly mumbled. “…thanks, Denki. You’re a really great person to vent to.”

“Well, I hope I’m more than a vent - movie buddy maybe?”

“Alright, alright, we’ll continue with the movie, jeez.”

You should probably get Denki a Best Boyfriend of the Year Award, because a few days later he showed up with one of his hoodies, with a graphic previously on the shrunk shirt now sewn in front, proudly declaring it was his idea but Momo did the work.

[the-kingshound]

This is 'missing-my-siblings-hours' . So, here you go, Emyr's (Tried my best not to be ooc) (Which I think I am, and I'm sincerely sorry) if MC and Saraah really succeed in bringing him to Camelot:

When Emyr woke up, he didn't expected to have sliced cucumbers along his face, nor did he expect to seeing his older and younger brothers whisking some sort of a gooey mix, while excitedly muttering how much skin care they'd get to work on him after all these years.

And so, when Ghaven walked up to him and applying the mixture on him, Emyr did what others mostly seen on him. He doesn't move at all, too numb to fight back even within a dream that feels like long ago.

Until Saraah, with his own beauty mask still on, eyes stand out among the sliced cucumbers and awkward little braids that somehow reminds Emyr of the one MC used to do with his eyes, look at him with a blank expression, poked his daydreams.

"...Are you seriously thinking you're still just dreaming, my dearest brother who keeps him away from us?"

Saraah's always managed to poke on others nerves, and they're never been easy to get it away.

Instantly, Emyr crawls out his bed, pushing away both his brothers as he flings himself to the nearest window and opens it.

And that's when he knew there's no way back now.

Emyr looks down along the window. He watches as his oldest sister, Adrei, keeps tight hold of Mordred, the only young child he can think so living with the Queen, and there's Radel, his youngest brother, who seems to be in better and healthier states as before, given how he can heard the latter go out his way teaching flowers to their little nephew.

But what holds most is when he saw — the one and last of them all, the youngest one, his little sister who's been trying to get hold of him, who's still reach out despite his distance — appears among the garden.

Emyr always know she'd been beautiful. But nothing can't stop him from worrying back when Adrei's letters come through about her going on battlefields. He'd remember what's like back then for him, his mind goes through those eyes resembling of the purest pearl that always soothe him, when he's still young, and could get a firm hold of his little sibling in his arms.

Ghaven weren't surprised at all. When Emyr's stunned. They kept silence as Saraah sneaks back up to Emyr and offer painful but nonetheless comforting touches, "Yeah, yeah, I know too." His next words, though, ouch. "After all these times... Can't belive we're all together again, huh? Except for Osi—— OCEANA! I mean that boring kingdom in the old mermaid tale! OCEANA! Emyr, stop hitting me! Ah! Ouch!"

If isn't the fact Emyr's still too timid (they'd change it, given now where they are) to even commit a murder, Ghavem would've step in to stop them from a supposedly crime scene. Still, they moves up between both their brothers, and cast away Saraah who's now running off to join in the rest in garden.

He didn't spoke anything. Waiting patiently for Emyr.

"I... H-how did... Is the King——" How did I got here? Is the King aware of this? "W-What will... I can't... They'd got... Of me... S..." What will happen to them? What will happen to you and Saraah? I can't be here! They'd get me! You'd get killed because of me! Sent me back! "I... I... Ah——..."

Emyr crumbles at last. Luckily, Ghaven's there to make sure their knees wouldn't hurt much as they catch him as they gradually fall to the ground. Ah, Adrei'd lecture them on this, definitely. Being too harsh on the joke.

"To answer your questions." They pulls him up back to the bed and throws up every warm blankets from the one mother hen knight closed to their little one. "MC'd been plotting to get you here since the last time we all met. Ironically, your... former house, got some issues."

Emyr don't need to hear anymore to know what's been going around. So he decided to do the thing he's been good at. He closes his eyes, nodding off soundly in his found peace as Ghaven lights up a few candles.

Osia can screw off. Emyr thinks. She can't do no harm to him now that he's faraway than she'll ever think.

A-And... He'd like to hug everyone when he's awake.

(Sorry for grammatic mistakes =+

Aww omg that's so adorable... bestest of ways to start my day❤ Thank you so much for sending it, anon, I actually think Emyr was quite in character! Having all the siblings together is very nostalgic and makes me want to hurry and get them all to Camelot...

[wehaveimagineshere]

Hello there, Ren! I absolutely fell in love with your Carlos fic, so I'm here to ask for another one! The prompt I was thinking of is Carlos' s/o (gn preferably) comforting him through PTSD symptoms like a recurring nightmare or a flashback (cuz his backstory is insanely traumatic + the whole RC incident is bound to mess someone up). He's such a sweet guy who deserves more love, and I love the way you write him. I'll definitely be back for more from time to time. You both have a nice day!

Hi Anon! Thank you so much! <3 Carlos deserves so much love and I got so excited seeing another request for him! Yes, please, come back as often as those ideas hit! I can't wait to see you again (:

I hope you have a good day too! And a good week, cause you definitely made mine!

~*~*~

People never quite understand how suddenly things can change.

Movies have a build up, an obvious path from "here" to "there." The little easter eggs, the little foreshadowing, the description on the back of the case. But real life is never so simple.

A five year old could never understand why his mother pulls him from his bed in the middle of the night, tears streaming down her face. Her hushed but frantic whispering that everything would be alright as the door smashes open and hands drag both of them out into the living room.

The men, unfamiliar and smelling of sweat and blood, are just hazy silhouettes in his memories now, in his dreams. Silver moonlight glinting off their guns, mechanisms he'd glimpsed once in his older brother's hands but not knowing the name for at the time, pierce through the dark as more figures drag out the rest of his family.

As they drag out his older brother, who won't go down without a fight.

His dreams can never decide exactly how long that fight lasts. Seconds or minutes, all he knows is the blur of fists, the laughing and tauntings of the strange men, the screaming and pleading of his mother, and that one gunshot.

The gunshot that silences his mother as she wraps her body around his, as if she can hide him from the present, from the pain and confusion it'll bring. She can't cover his ears, though, as the wet thud of his lifeless brother hits the floor.

As the man with the gun aims it at his mother, quiet, dark words spitting from his mouth before he leaves, taking his gang with him.

His mother rocks, his small frame rocking with her, as she sobs into his torn and dirty shirt. As she mutters that signature "It's okay, we'll be okay," her fingers threading through his hair in an attempt to soothe.

A five year old child cannot comprehend death, killing, so he doesn't know to not look. To not peek through the curtain of his mother's hair to the heap on the floor. He doesn't understand why his brother doesn't move, why he--

But he does. It starts with a twitch of the fingers, then a spasm in the arms. Bracing his arms underneath him, his brother jerkily lifts himself up, saliva and blood dripping from his lips. And when he looks up...

It's the eyes of the dead. Milky white, skin ashen and sickly. He knows, then. Some deep, primal part of him knows that he's staring at his reaper, that his mother has no idea their deaths will come in the form of her own son, brought back by the devil himself.

His brother lunges, and he can do nothing as his mother screams, ripped away from him as blood spurts and bodies writhe as she tries to get away, as his brother clamps on with inhuman strength, teeth deep in her throat--

Carlos jerks away, air sawing into his lungs as his eyes dart about. Muscles tight, unsure if he should move or stay, he swings his head--

"Hey," comes a soft whisper. "You're alright, Carlos. You're okay."

"It'll be alright, little Carlos, we'll be okay."

Moving to stand but finding them bound, his shaking hands start yanking at the bindings.

"Carlos. Sweetie. You're in bed. You got tangled up in the blankets. You're okay. You're safe."

"Sweet little Carlos, mommy will protect you, it'll be okay."

The ripping of fabric finally makes him pause, heart slamming against his ribcage.

"Carlos. It was a dream. Just a dream. We're in bed, the doors are locked, it's just you and me."

Curling in on himself, he tries to focus on his breathing, to try not to hyperventilate.

You help walk him through it.

"Deep inhale through your nose, honey. Count to five. One. Two. Three. Four. Release. There you go. One more time. One. Two."

He follows your instructions the best he's able, clinging to the soothing sound of your voice, clinging to each count and exhale, and slowly, oh so slowly, the death grip on the ripped comforter relaxes.

"There you go. I have some water. Do you want some?"

It takes him a few seconds to nod.

"Alright. It's a glass. It's a little cool to the touch."

Shifting so he's facing you, the glass in your hand outstretched, he takes it and swallows deeply, not realizing how hot he is until the cold water slides down his chest, shocking his senses.

He puts the cool glass up against his sweat slicked forehead.

"It should be about three in the morning right now," you continue, feet tucked underneath you. "I turned on the light in the hallway and drew the right side of our curtains. I also got some towels."

Setting down the glass on his bedside table, he turns back to a hand towel laid neatly in front of your knees. Absently he reaches for it, dragging it across his brow.

"I can wet one or two if you need. Just let me know."

Exhaling, he finally attempts his voice. "I'm alright."

Deep, gravelly, haunted. He barely even recognizes it.

"I know, it's okay."

Lowering the towel, he holds out a hand, one you gingerly take. Tugging you close, he rests his forehead against the crook of your neck and inhales, the familiar, soothing scent of you wrapping around his heart.

"May I run my fingers through your hair?"

He nods. "I'm alright," he says again against your skin, the words a little more stable.

"Okay." You start at the base of his neck and run up, catching the small knots in his hair and gently working them out, nails softly scratching his scalp.

He practically melts, an arm snaking around your waist to draw you onto his lap. Wrapping your free hand around him, you rest your head against his as you keep threading your fingers through his hair, not caring how drenched in sweat he is.

Sweat can be washed off.

"When I say I'm the reason you never get any sleep," you hear him say, "I don't mean like this."

You huff a chuckle. "Nobody needs to know that. It'll remain our little secret."

There's an uncertain pause. "Thank you."

"Carlos. I told you I'd always be here for you, and I meant it." You kiss his temple. "I always mean it."

"I know. I just..." He squeezes you tight for just a moment.

You squeeze back. "We've all got our monsters under the bed. Some are just bigger than others. And thankfully, we share a bed now."

His lips brush your shoulder as he smiles. Lifting his head to place a kiss on your forehead, he moves down to your cheek, then captures your mouth.

It's soft and sweet, the kiss, the thank you that Carlos could never fully put into words. He pulls away for just a moment, to look into the eyes that have saved him time and time again, before drawing you in once more.

You place a hand against his cheek as he pulls away again, a palm he nuzzles into. The smile that blooms across your lips squeezes his heart, once again reminded of how lucky he is to hold you, kiss you, call you his.

"Think you'll be able to sleep?" you ask, the movement of your lips distracting.

"Not for a while," he replies.

"Well, we have more of that show we were watching."

He dips to your lips again and murmurs against them, "We're already in bed."

Your mouth quirk and you pull back to give him a look. "At the very least, you need to wipe all this sweat off."

The sly smirk that finds its way onto his lips feels right, a little more himself. "Just so you can get me all sweaty again?"

"So I know you're sweaty because of me," you respond without a beat, a playful grin brightening your face as you reach for a towel and smoosh his face in it.

"A cruel Majesty you are," comes the faux hurt muffled reply.

You kiss what you can only guess is his nose through the towel. "You love me though."

"I do."

Releasing the towel, your smile softens as you see the look on his face. The openness only you're allowed to witness. "Love you too, big guy."