#I love his voice please please he'd protect me trust

[clowneepup]

full ref sheet coming soon,, eventually

hehe hoohoo Tumblr pls don't cancel me

Lore later,,, maybe never

chocolate lab mix strikes again

[killerpancakeburger]

Well-placed Trust

As soldiers unpromptedly walk in on a maskless Ghost and you, your solution to protect his face is to shove it in your chest.

Tags: f!reader (boobs involved), civilian!reader, protective!reader, fluff + smut, Praise, Ghost is a menace (positive), boobs worship, 1k words.

Gaining Simon Riley's trust was not something you ever planned to achieve. However, now that you've had it, you were fiercely protective of it.

This would explain why, when you heard the door to Ghost's room randomly opening, and your eyes flew to the skull mask laying on his desk— barely a meter away but it might as well have been on the other side of the ocean—, your first instinct was to launch yourself at him. Bluntly shoving his face into your chest without warning, in hopes to conceal it from the newly arrived trespassers, and wrapping your arms around his head in a desperate attempt to hide his hair as well.

Nevermind that he's trapped right between your breasts.

You throw a mildly accusatory stare at the entrance, and coarse laughs ring out, followed by a barely believable apology.

“Oops, sorry. Wrong door. Didn’t mean to interrupt!”

You let out a relieved sigh as the door closes. However said relief is quick to vanish as you realize Simon hasn’t reacted at all this whole time. Not a word, not even a grunt; not a move, not even to repel you. 

You let go of him like you've been burnt, even raising your hands in surrender.

“Sorry! Are you mad? I panicked, I was just trying to—”

Your waterfall of apologies brutally ceases when, after attempting to back away, you're stopped short by his embrace. You don’t know when he wrapped his arms around your waist. His expression still out of sight, anxiety nags at you, despite the logical part of your mind emphasizing that if he was actually angry, there's no way he'd demonstrate it by hugging you. 

So you insists.

“Ghost?”

“Mmh.”

The sound is raspy, unbothered. He idly rubs his face against your torso, and the motion is enough to make your crotch throbs with arousal. Inhaling sharply at the unexpected sensation, you clench your thighs together.

“Simon,” you call again, trying to sound severe this time.

You have absolutely zero reservation in granting all the hugs he might crave, but surely they could be performed in a less… compromising position. Lest you end this cuddle session squirming with want. And a burning face. And the imperative need to never cross the lieutenant ever again, for fear that you'd spontaneously combust with mortification otherwise.

“‘M not mad.“

The gruff, familiar voice appeases your tension a little— the emotional one, that is. Not the physical one.

“You're not? You have a right to b—”

“I trust you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the confession. You suspected it, hoped for it— but hearing it out loud is another matter entirely. Simon Riley is a man of few words, but the ones he does pronounce are always sincere, to the point of bluntness. For him to feel the need to spell it out loud, it has to be important.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You've put my comfort over yours, no questions asked. Couldn’t be more pleased, love.”

The gravel in his voice does funny things to your stomach— why, why, why? It never had that effect before.

You try to ignore the signals sent by your body, instead passing a hand behind your neck in self-consciousness. 

“Oh… well. It was nothing. I'd do it again in a heartbeat—”

“You've been so good to me, sweetheart. Don't ya think you deserve a reward?”

Your brain short-circuits. Your skin gets even warmer. Surely you misheard him.

He finally unsticks his face from your chest, resting his chin above your sternum, only to stare with the start of some impatience drowned out in warmth and fondness.

He's a vision, one that takes your breath away and causes heat to pool in your stomach.

Heavy-lidded eyes, disheveled hair, ardent stare, he's a languid, lascivious mess.

“I need an answer. Preferably in one word. Yes, no, fuck off…”

In other, normal circumstances, you would have stayed mute from the shock, or helplessly stuttered, but the imperative desire to not disappoint him, to preserve the contentment he displays, takes over.

“Fuck. Yes.”

The low chuckle that escapes him in reaction to the eagerness of your reply makes you bite back a moan. Your hands close into fists on the back of his shirt.

He lifts your shirt— "hold this for me, love"— and effortlessly frees your chest from your bra. The second your skin is bare, he presses his face back into it, nuzzling against it with a blissful sigh.

With one hand busy grasping your top, and the other clinging onto his shoulder for balance, there's nothing you can do but submit yourself to his ministrations.

It's your turn to sigh in pleasure as he proceeds to kiss an invisible line between the bottom and the top of your breast, fingers stroking the curve between your ribs and your nipple.

“Never dreamed you'd let me get my face on those, love.”

Groggy, it takes a conscious effort on your part to register what he's saying.

“Such a generous thing. It's only right you get payback.”

“You're very… talkative all of a sudden.”

“S'that a problem? Think I'm not putting my tongue to use enough?”

Right after that, said tongue swirl around your nipple and you can feel yourself clench around nothing.

“Or maybe that's just not your thing,” he adds, casually, as if he hadn’t been shamelessly gropping, kissing, licking and sucking your chest.

“I never said that.”

Your reply had been straight off, out of fear that he'd take offense and puts a stop to all this.

“You know what to do to shut me up, anyway.”

You don’t react to his provocative tone, but you’re tempted by the invitation nonetheless— to muffle that smart mouth with your bust…

Just as his focus on your breasts threatens to not suffice you anymore, his thumb insistantly rubbs the apex of your thighs, and you push back against it openly.

“Easy there, sweetheart,” he soothes you, but you can see how pleased he is by your eagerness. “M just gettin’ started.”

Soon enough he disposed of your pants, and he's parting your knees to nuzzle against your inner thigh the way he was against your chest mere moments ago. You can’t help but close them partially, and instantly he's staring you down, eyes brimming with taunt.

“Gonna smother me with your thighs, sweetheart? Like you did with your tits, mh? Better be prepared in case we get ‘interrupted’ again.”

“Fucking hell, Ghost,” you groan, half exasperated, half even more aroused, as he finally steers his head towards your crotch.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

If you want to could you please do a fic with Jason's Girlfriend (rather Arkham Night or when he is still early Red Hood) gets hit with Scarecrow's fear toxin and Jason is trying to help her through it or give her an antidote. But she is terrified of him and think he is attacking or trying to kill her. Maybe it's because while she does love him and he loves her she started working with him because she is helping Batman get Jason to hopefully see his family again and Jason does know so she is scared of his reaction. Sorry if that's confusing or a lot.

Thank you for reading whether you do the request or not

-🍓

Guilty Hearts

Hi 🍓! I know this took a while to get out but I hope you see it. I think we might be psychically linked because this came into my ask box while I was editing my other fear toxin fic. Enjoy! ~1k words

The Arkham Knight is going to destroy whoever caused you to get like this. He stands, ridged and protective, between you and the milita medics who are shifting uneasily behind him. You're curled into the corner of the room, knees to your chest and arms wrapped around yourself. He never breaks his gaze as you rock yourself, silent tears spilling down your cheeks.

Seventy-two minutes. That's how long you've been like this. Trapped in the nightmares of your mind's own creation, hallucinations caused by a dosage of Scarecrow's fear toxin. 

He doesn't know how you got like this, what happened, he didn't bother to ask when he was finally informed. The Arkham Knight just stormed his way to you. 

The medics managed to tell him that you've screamed your voice raw but still fought anyone who got close enough to try and stick you with the antidote. 'That's his partner,' he thinks. Always the fighter.

He scowls behind his helmet when he notices the self-inflicted scratch marks over your arms, a common reaction to the toxin. "Everybody out." He snaps, snatching a needle filled with the antidote from one the medics. They file out quickly, sensing his mood. They should be running. Everyone knows what you are to him. He's made it more than clear and the fact that you're suffering? The fact it took over an hour for him to be told? He'll make sure someone pays for that later.

But that is later, and this is now. You're what's most important. He tugs off his helmet once the last medic leaves the room and takes a step towards you.

You let out a raw, strangled cry with what's left of your voice. He doesn't know what you're seeing, what you think he is, but it makes his heart clench to see you so scared. He knows he can be frightening now, so different from what he used to be. But he'd never hurt you, never, not on purpose. 

The Arkham Knight crouches down to your level, and says your name softly, carefully, trying not to startle you. "I'm here to help, I promise, baby. I need you to trust me. I'm going to make it better." He soothes, creeping closer to you inch by inch. He makes sure to stay low, to make himself look smaller.

It doesn't seem to help, fresh tears fall faster from your eyes and you whimper. He repeats your name over and over, trying to draw you away from whatever fear is tormenting you. "Just hold on a little longer. It's going to be okay. I'm going to make it okay."

He shifts closer to you, reaches out one hand to try and touch you, and you bolt, scrambling to get as far away from him as possible. 

He catches you around the waist, needle clattering to the floor as he wrestles you to the ground. It's harder than it should be, he's trying to be gentle, trying not to harm you, but you're kicking and crying and clawing like you'll die if you don't fight. The Arkham Knight wonders what you see, what twisted image is taking over your mind as you fight him.

You see him. The Arkham Knight– Jason. You know there's something wrong with you, something bad, but between the pounding of your heart and the way the shadows seem to writhe, you can't remember what it is. 

You tried to get away from him– it. He's angry at you, you know he is. You can hear it in the robitical breathing, the way fire dances in place of the glowing whites of his eyes. 

You're scared. You don't know how he knows. You don't know how he found out or what he thinks, but he's going to hurt you. That's what the choir of hissing voices whispers into your ear. 

He knows you've helped Batman– Bruce. You didn't want to betray him. You weren't trying to hinder his revenge plan in any way. Bruce didn't even know it was you who told him. You just– all you did was tell him to have extra fear toxin antidotes ready. You just couldn't stand the thought of someone losing the people they loved, not when you knew exactly how it felt.

The Arkham Knight freezes when you start to beg. He's never heard you so scared, so shaken. You sound like he did. Back in that cell.

You thought a part of him might understand that. Your adrenaline spikes when he reaches for something just out of your field of vision. He's going to hurt you. He's going to make you pay for your disloyalty. You let out a sob and start to beg, broken pleas of his name leave your lips, it's the only sound you can make anymore.

"Please, Jason," You rasp out, "m'sorry. So sorry." He shushes you as you start to paw at his chest plate in a last ditch attempt to get away. Always so strong, you are. 

Jason takes your wrists in one hand and sticks the needle into your skin with the other, releasing the antidote into your bloodstream. 

"There you go, there you go, doll. Good job." He mumbles into your hair, pulling you up so you can settle in his lap, his arms securely around your body. Your breathing is shaky, uneven, and your hands move to curl into the straps of his armor. You're not trying to get away from him anymore, proof the antidote is taking hold. 

He keeps cooing mindless reassurances as you cry quietly into his shoulder, his hand running soothing lines up and down your back. He presses his lips to the top of your head and holds you a little tighter to him.

When you're more yourself, Jason will tell you you have nothing to be sorry for. He knows. Of course, he knows what you told Bruce. He knows everything about you. If spilling a few secrets to his plan eases your guilty conscience and keeps you by his side, so be it.

Scarecrow's just a means to an end anyway. All that matters is that you stay. That you keep following him down his path in hell, and if you turn to look back a few times, well, he'll just hold your hand all the more tighter and keep dragging you along with him.

[babyjakes]

delicate. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | virgin

pairing | daddy!ari levinson x little!reader

warnings | ddlg; daddy!ari is sooo soft the softest ever. virginity loss, not very graphic. stretching ft. ari's 13 inch dick. clit rubbing. cock bulging in tummy kink. lots of praise and encouragement. reader struggles to take him (same girl), cries a little. p in v, protection not specified. ari gives a safeword reminder.

word count | 837

an | written for ari's #1 babygirl @evansbby, who's been very good this year so no need to leave coal (an andy fic lol) under the tree for her!! happy holidays to you friend, i tried to make ari as sweet and soft and loving and wonderful as you always remind us he'd be! <33 hope the 13 inches live up to your expectations, if he's 13 inches soft he's a shower,, right??

Dragging his fingertips over your hipbones, Ari's warm gaze met your own as he whispered one final time, "You sure you're sure, baby? We can always wait. Daddy knows how big of a deal this is."

He had set the bedroom up just right for the occasion, his goal to make the space as safe and comforting as possible. He had lube on hand in case you'd need it, a big fluffy blanket spread out over the bed to act as a soft surface for you to lie on, a candle he knew you liked burning on the nightstand, and everything for cleanup and aftercare set out in advance: a pack of baby wipes, a clean pair of panties, one of your favorite old t-shirts of his that you liked to sleep in, and more. If your daddy was one thing, it was thoughtful, and he had put plenty of thought and care into preparing for your first time.

"'m sure, Daddy," you giggled sweetly, smaller hands coming down to find his. And you meant it; you had been the one to finally initiate things, after all. Ari had been patiently waiting for you to tell him you were ready, never giving you even the tiniest sense that he was getting impatient. He wanted everything done on your timeline, when your heart and body were telling you that they were ready.

The broad man held your hands momentarily, giving them a squeeze as he smiled adoringly at you, "Okay, princess. Just wanna be sure." Gently releasing your fingers to lay on your tummy, he brought his thumbs down to spread your puffy pussy lips open. He had already spent plenty of time warming you up and getting you ready; as he suspected, he wouldn't be needing any help from the lube. "So fuckin' pretty, sweetheart. Look at how wet you are for me, such a good girl." He took a moment to swirl some of your arousal over your perfect little clit, marveling at the way it twitched excitedly beneath his touch.

Steadying his thumb there, he moved his other hand down to line up his leaking tip at your entrance. Pushing his head up against your tiny opening, he sucked in a breath, trying to reel himself in. It was taking all the strength and self-control he had to refrain from sinking himself into you without a care- but your big, trusting eyes blinking up at him so adorably were more than enough to keep him in check. You were his princess, his baby, his entire world; he didn't have it in him to hurt you, no matter how tempting the situation.

"Ready, pretty girl? Take a deep breath for me," his heavy voice guided you as he gently began easing himself in. Immediately, the stretch was nearly unbearable. Little feet kicking weakly, you whimpered as tears welled in your eyes. "You're okay, baby. You're okay," Ari took his time with you, keeping his thumb working circles over your clit to help with the discomfort. "You remember your word, sweetheart?"

"M-mhm," you sniffled, the way you rubbed your eyes so sweetly earning a loving smile from the man. "Keep going Daddy, please. I-I can take it," you promised. As much as the insertion ached, you were determined to be a big girl for your daddy.

Gentle eyes resting on your face, Ari's voice swelled with affection as he murmured, "My baby girl's so brave. Doin' so well, little one. That's it, just keep those pretty eyes on me."

It was a long, grueling affair, each inch of his massive length proving to be harder to take than the last. But through every painful moment, he was talking you right through it. "Doin' so well, sweetheart." "That's it, baby. Keep breathin' for me." "Almost there, pretty girl. Daddy's so proud'a you."

When he finally pushed the last of himself inside you, his wide hips pressing up to meet your own, he brought a hand up to cup your cheek as the rest of his body stilled. As he stood there over you, looking down on your sweat-dampened face, you swore you'd never seen his eyes shine with so much love. "Look at that, sweet girl. So full of Daddy," he crooned with pride, his hand rising from your clit to gently press on the base of your tummy where his cock was bulging from within you.

"S-so full," you managed a nod in agreement.

Barely rocking his hips, Ari was intent on giving you plenty of time to get used to his size. As you lay there on your back, panting from the arduous process of simply fitting his entirety inside of you, your daddy's heart was so full of love and sympathy for you. "My good, sweet girl," he hummed knowingly, wiping a stray tear that had escaped down your cheek. "Don't worry, little one. We'll take things nice and slow. I'm in no rush; the most important thing to me is making you feel good."

[dinogoofymutated]

Omg I love your headcanons/fics!! I really need to ask if you'd be willing to write an addendum for the jealousy headcanons for Wolverine? Of course no pressure if you can't/don't feel like, just thought I'd try to ask! :) Hope you have a nice day/night, and keep up the good work! 💗💗💗

Jealousy Headcannons!- Multi/GN!Reader - Wolverine, Morph, Angel, Sabretooth. You got it man!! Had a version of this requested for Logan so many times lol. I went ahead and added more characters to round it off into a full multi character hcs. Logan doesn't explicitly punch anyone in this one, so sorry if anyone was looking forward to that! (Sorry though, his is pretty similar to cable's) I'm also testing the waters while writing for Morph. I know everyone is starving for fics with them, but I'm not really used to writing for they/them characters (despite the fact that I try to avoid pronouns for the reader, weird I know, but its mostly due to me using you/your.) forgive me if I slip up with their pronouns, and let me know if I do so I can fix it! TWs: Violence (not towards reader, but some pretty mean names are called tho) Men can be creeps/harassment. Unnecessary changing scene with Warren bc I love non-sexual intimacy like that. Flirting, Barfights again but this time it's a little bloody (sabertooth) Drinking mentioned.

Wolverine

Okay, so Logan here is a bit of a mixed bag when it comes to jealousy. I really feel like it depends on the situation? In general, he trusts you more than just about anyone. When someone flirts with you, he's generally just very grouchy and most of the time, quiet. He glares a lot, and if you meet his gaze he'll raise an eyebrow, basically asking if you need an out, and then he'd act accordingly.

Buuuttt. If he's in a bad mood or has had a tough day, he's more likely to resort to threats and intimidation to handle any romantic attention you might receive. He gets more physically protective and will usually have an arm slung around you at all times.

That's not to say he only gets jealous of romantic attention though. I feel like he also get jealous of anything and anyone taking up your time, really. he'd probably stay quiet until he just kinda snaps and drags you away from whatever has your attention for smooches and cuddles. Don't let him fool you by telling you he's not cuddly, he totally is.

"Back. Up. Bub." Logan's rumbling voice is venomous, a growl of warning as he bows up on the man in front of you. The two of you had been out on a mission together, which normally would have gone perfectly fine. Unfortunately, you'd ended up running into some old acquaintances of his. Both of you were bristiling at the contact, but you knew that coaxing Logan into a fight was just what he wanted. The man had been making moves on you the entire time- and although you were practically an expert in ignoring the flirtation from asshole guys, you were beginning to get more and more uncomfortable with it. It was when the man had started to make sexual comments about your body that Logan snapped.

"Who you callin' bub, pipsqueak?" The man smirks, looking down on Logan with arrogance. Anxiety had begun to worm it's way into your stomach.

"You better learn to watch your mouth." Logan growls. His fists flex as his claws unsheath, the adamantium practically itching to dig into the guy's skin. This was escalating fast, and you needed to stop it now. You both needed to complete the mission without any complications, extra fights included.

"Logan, Please, can we just go?" You say, grabbing his wrist and tugging before he can launch himself at the man. Logan's angry face remains intact, but you can see the way his shoulders slightly loosen. He glances at you, before backing off from the man with a snarl. You sigh in relief as Logan turns to follow you as you drag him away, just thankful you've avoided a problem at that point.

" 'bitch's got you on a hellava tight leash. Who knew the wolverine would be so whipped over some cheap whore." Logan stops abruptly at the words, sighing deeply as he looks at you, rage burning in his eyes. Whatever reserved attitude you had about this fight was basically gone, evaporating at the insults. You let out a long sigh, before you pull your hands away from him and shrug your shoulders. Logan grins at you wickedly.

So what if he came home with a few more bruises than normal? His knuckles would heal- but the ass whooping he gave out would damage that guy's ego forever.

Angel

Warren is the silently jealous type. No matter how bad he's being cooked with jealousy, he's really just going to keep an eye on you from afar. Growing up as a rich kid, I feel like his dad was very strict on manners and how not to make a public scene, which has kinda carried over into his adulthood.

If someone just won't give it a rest and keeps trying to pursue you, Warren will be not low-key about it. He'll come over and set his hand on your back, or sling his arm around your shoulder, or if he's feeling really cocky, Shake the person's hand and introduce himself as your boyfriend/husband. He'll only outright tell them to back off if they start to get out of hand and he knows you're getting really uncomfortable.

"I just don't like him." Warren says, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. He's still in his suit from before, the red and bright white standing out starkly compared to the muted warm tones of your shared bedroom. You laugh at him as you begin to change.

"What? Why? I think Pietro is kinda funny." You ask, beginning to take off your shirt. Warren sighs in a petty way.

"Yeah, exactly." He mumbles under his breath, walking over to help you when your head gets stuck in the neckline like it always does. You give him a kiss on his cheek when you're free, not quite having heard him.

"Can't I dislike him just to dislike him? I don't need a reason." Warren speaks up this time, and you can't seem to hold back your amused smile as he digs his hole deeper. "-but, if I did, I'd say he's just too friendly with you. I don't like it." You can't help but laugh at that as you finish changing into more comfortable clothes. He turns around on autopilot, letting you unzip him from his suit- careful not to catch his blonde hair with the zipper.

"It's not like he's taking me away from you, Warren." You say, pressing a kisses to his exposed neck and back as you help him navigate his wings through. Warren huffs a little, his wings twitching as his voice goes soft.

"I never said that. I know he's not. I trust you enough to know so. I just..." He trails off, stepping out of his suit and left in his boxers. He lets you pull his shirt over him, stretching his wings in the confined space of the bathroom when its on correctly. You cock an eyebrow at him now that you're facing him, waiting for him to continue. He doesn't, simply looking away from you to avoid your knowing gaze. You let out an amused chuff before closing in on him.

"It's okay to be jealous, Warren, but I promise you, I'm not going anywhere." You say confidently, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He sighs again, but smiles as he looks at you with a soft and loving gaze. His arms wrap around your waist as he rests his forehead against your own, closing his eyes as the two of you begin to sway a little.

"Yeah, I know."

Morph

I really think that Morph is more of an insecure jealous type, but they're more likely to hide it behind humor. If you're being flirted and don't seem to be overly uncomfortable, they're probably going to fade into the background. They know that you love them, and they trust you, but they're so used to being second best for everyone they know that they just feel like they're bothering you. Later on, when whoever is flirting with you leaves, Morph will shift into them and start joking about it. Don't let the humor fool you, they're hurting right now. Just give Morph some extra love and kisses and reassurance and they'll feel better eventually.

Now, if it's clear that someone is bothering you, Morph won't be afraid to roast the everloving shit out of them. They take the moment to really embarrass the person, and if you're in a bar he'd totattally shift into the dude just to offer a drink to everyone and then dip, sticking the asshole with the bill.

You really didn't like clubs. They were busy and loud, but you had a friend celebrating her birthday in one, so who were you to turn down the invite? You certainly couldn't go without your favorite shapeshifter by your side either. The only problem was that Morph wasn't the only one who had eyes for you that night. Morph hadn't said anything in the moment, but you knew stuff like this bothered them. Even while walking home from the club, they still seemed to be trying to brush it off.

"Hey, Good-lookin. You interested?" Morph says, having shifted into the guy who had been flirting with you earlier. They're leaning against the side of the payphone like a goofball, having waited there as you called the school to let the others know you were finally on the way home, tipsy, but still hoping the fresh air would sober the both of you up. You roll your eyes as you giggle at them, shoving their shoulder and sending them stubiling.

"In that guy? No way!" You laugh, walking past Morph before they quickly catch up to you.

"You gotta admit, he was pretty handsome for a POS." They joke, puckering their lips and making kissy faces at you.

"Mmhm. suuureeee." You hum, pushing their face away from yours as they laugh.

"Come on, you saying' that tall dark and handsome isn't your type?" Morph shifts from the man at the club, and into the blonde, blue-eyed Warren worthington, wings hidden underneath the supposed coat. "-Or maybe you'd prefer blondes. I hear Warren's quite at catch." You huff at them, and shake your head again. Something in their tone of voice just seems to set off alarms in your brain, and they doesn't seem to be acting as genuine with you anymore, a vulnerability creeping into their voice no matter how hard they were trying to hide it. This goes on for a rather solid minute, Morph shifting into different people you know and asking who you prefer with a laugh and a fake smile. You shake your head every time, but it's starting to become more than just a bit. You begin to lose your patience, your own hurt seeping through the cracks.

"You're into the gruff, muscly, Logan, right? Hafta' be if you're still-"

"Kevin." You finally cut them off with a stern tone of voice, grabbing their wrist as you abruptly stop walking. They flinch at the name, eyes blowing wide with concern as they shift from logan, then to the dark haired version of themselves- before then settling on the form you know so well.

"... Not the government name." They mumble, more caught up in the strict way you said their name rather than the words themselves. You grab them by the collar of their leather jacket, pulling them close to you as you look into their eyes.

"How many times to I have to tell you I love you for you to believe me?" You whisper after a moment, voice coming out a little broken. Morph's seems to panic a little, making a concerned face as their hands catch hold of your wrists gently.

"I- no, that's not what I..." Morph says, trying their best to fix the situation. They can't seem to come up with the right words, their eyes avoiding your gaze as their mouth opens and closes with no luck. You cup the side of their face, bringing them back to face you.

"I. Love. You." You say purposefully. "Not some guy at the club- you, Morph. Any part of you that you want to give me, Any form you want to take. As long as it's you, I don't care." Morph relaxes at your words, sighing as you bring them closer to you, resting their forehead against your own.

"Yeah?" They ask, eyes fluttering closed.

"Yeah." You reply, finally leaning in to kiss them lovingly. They return the kiss softly, only separating from you when you begin to drag them down the sidewalk with you once again, hand in hand.

Sabertooth

He does not handle jealousy well at all. Honestly, I wouldn't put it past him to put someone in the hospital. It doesn't matter if they're just flirting, or if they're actually bothering you, he's going to start some shit. The man loves to start fights, and he couldn't care less what the reason is for. I will say though, he's gonna be a lot less smiley if the person insults either of you. He may be a shitstarter, but he doesn't take disrespect, especially not disrespect towards his S/O.

He's never mad at you for it. If anything, he's glad you gave him the chance to take some anger out. He'll encourage you to wear sexy and revealing outfits because he wants to see you wear them, and also because he's gonna beat the shit out of the first guy (and every guy, honestly) to look at you the wrong way. ESPECIALLY if you have boobs. Those are his boobs. He wants them to be popping out of your clothes 24/7 but no one else is allowed to look at them. Did he just see someone glance at you? Say goodbye to your teeth, motherfucker. (and your balls too.)

Victor loved shitty dive bars, as gross and unsanitary they may be. He liked to bar hop a few of them every other night, and although you weren't necessarily the dive bar type, you did enjoy spending time with him. Normally you'd just wear casual clothes, but today you had wanted to dress up a little bit. Nothing too fancy, but your shirt was a little low cut compared to what you normally wear. Victor had been loving it, especially since he got to have you as his eye-candy. That was what you were going for, and you succeeded! The only problem was that he wasn't the only one appreciating the view.

You were sitting at the bar, watching Victor win another round of pool while sipping on your drink. A man had sat next to you earlier, but you didn't think anything of it at first. It was a busy saturday night, and there weren't that many seats open at the bar. At most, you had a uneasy tingling on the back of your neck, feeling that someone was watching you.

"What's a fine thing like you doing in this shitty place?" The man suddenly asks. You send him a questioning glance, almost baffled at the flirting. He must be new here, because every other regular of this place knew for a fact who you always come here with, and no other man is stupid enough to try their luck with you while he's lingering around.

"Who, me? Enjoying some peace and quiet, obviously." You say in a sarcastic tone. The man chuckles next to you.

"Aw, not interested, sweetheart? I swear I'll make it worth your while." You make an obviously disgusted face at that, beginning to wonder who this guy thinks he is. The tingling feeling you feel hasn't let up, in fact, it's only gotten stronger. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing up, and you can't help but feel like something is seriously wrong here. You brushed it off on the alcohol, but Victor had always been a bit more perceptive than you. He barely glanced over in your direction before he was storming over. For a split second you think he's mad at you, until he violently grabs the man next to you by the collar, his claws scraping across his collarbones and causing him to yelp as he shallow cuts begin to bleed.

"Did I just see you staring?" Victor huffs, glaring so hard you swear the man shrinks underneath his gaze. Every bit of confidence he had a minute ago had vanished completely.

"W-what? I... Uh..." The man stutters, unable to say a complete sentence through his fear. Victor turns to you slightly, his grip not letting up for a second.

"He say something to you, Doll?" He asks, and you wonder if you should tell him the truth. You almost felt bad for the guy in his grip, knowing that he was probably just stupid and new to this bar. You shake your head in response, even though the stranger had been giving you off vibes since the moment he sat down. Victor grins at you, a loving excitement in his eyes as his grip only gets tighter.

"Aww, you don't have to lie, sweet thing." Victor chuckles, and you grimace when you realise that he totally saw that lie coming a mile away. Vic turns back to the man, his smile dropping instantly as his other hand slips the guy's phone out and slams it on the counter of the bar. "Open your camera." Vic snarls. The man starts to panic now, squirming to get out of his grip.

"N-no! Let go of me Man!" The man stutters. Vic only begins to grin again.

"Nuh-uh. I want you to show my baby the photos you've been taking all night." Photos? You didn't know anything about any photos. Your brows furrow as the man begins to whine and panic, squirming to no avail. Vic smirks at you as he send you a nodd, and you grab the phone and open the creep's gallery. There has to have been over thirty photos of you from just tonight, sitting at the bar, ordering your first drink, even one from when you had gotten up to use the restroom.

"Oh, gross!" You say, recoiling from the phone and wiping your hands on your shirt, not wanting to know where this guys hands had been all night. The man in Victor's grip has gone completely pale, freezing at the sight of Vic's terrifying smile. He reaches over towards the phone with his free hand, picking up the device before crushing it with his bare hand.

"Why don't you head outside, honeybee. I'll take out the trash while you're gone."

[r0-boat]

Belle x reader x Wise

Headcannons

Shut the fuck up I know it hasn't even been a day! Let me like the two main characters in peace.

Most days the job of Proxy is quite boring. On days like these when there are no commissions and no hollows So all they could do is sit in the video store staring at the door waiting for a customer to come, rent a movie, or a video game. Today it was Belle's turn as their bangboos take the day to charge and while Wise is in the back managing stock at the same time glimpsing at online forms for commissions. However this boring day would take a turn when you walk in to the store. Her eyes light up seeing a familiar face. Shouting your name as she practically tackled you on a hug.

You had no idea about their job as a proxy You were just thought they The cute store managers of the video store that you frequent.

Belle

She tends to be a little clingy with you, she's not afraid to tell you what she wants but with you she finds it difficult to voice her feelings. Then whenever she does she has a bad habit of playing it off as a joke. She doesn't know why she acts like this around you. She knows she cares a lot about you and she knows she loves you she's just having trouble saying it out loud.

For now she's contented with just being by your side (And she doesn't mind getting into people's way when she feels that they are threatening to take you away from her) She knows this feeling of jealousy and possessiveness isn't healthy. But she swears up and down it's just temporary that she will find a way to fully express her feelings to you at some point.

Please play games with her, if you don't play Minecraft with her she will cry. If you want to come to the arcade with her she will definitely join She just wants to play a game with you any game, can even be monopoly.

HER BROTHER IS A BASTARD!!! She had no idea her nasty ass brother sent you a picture of an ugly selfie she sent him!! Only found it out when it became your lock screen. She screamed!!! You said it was cute but if she wanted you to delete it then you would She declined but Wise better sleep with one eye open tonight She knows her brother likes you too, And if he's doing this shit then two can play at that game!

Wise

Trying to be cool around you, He wants you to see him as someone you can trust and lean on for protection. He is quite possessive, overprotective as well. He tries to explain that he's like that to everyone but to be honest not to the extent he is with you. He was the one that suggested to Belle never to reveal their identity as a Proxy to you for your protection. Wise seems to decide what's best for you without consoling or asking you first.

Wise is very inexperienced when it comes to dating any tends to overthink on every little motion you do. From your small smiles to your hair twirls those little things you do have him up at night.

He's not as talkative or as touchy as his sister but he has his quirks, like in the middle of the night sending you pictures or memes with no contacts at all before disappearing for a few hours. He'd rather hang out with you in person then on the phone or online. His favorite are watching movies with you. Whether in the theater or at home. Horror movies so you can cling to him when you're scared, sad romantic movies so he could wipe your pretty tears, anything.

HIS SISTER IS AN ANNOYING LITTLE FUCK. Don't give me wrong he loves her but sometimes he wishes he was an only child. trying to tell you and show you embarrassing moments from their childhood.

[flwrkid14]

A Ghost of a Chance: Tim Moves to Amity Park

Tim Drake never expected to end up in Amity Park.

It wasn’t the kind of place you’d move to voluntarily—not if you valued normalcy, peace, or, you know, not being attacked by spectral entities on the regular. But when Danny asked—his voice soft, eyes hopeful—Tim couldn’t say no.

Amity was Danny’s home.

And maybe, just maybe, it could be Tim's too.

-------------------

At first, it wasn’t bad. Tim had seen worse. Gotham had prepared him for everything, right? But there was something about Amity Park that made the shadows seem deeper, the nights colder. The constant hum of the town’s protective shields, the flicker of green in the sky—like the city itself was watching.

Danny blended back in seamlessly, slipping into old routines like he’d never left.

Tim… didn’t.

The ghosts were different. Gotham’s rogues, at least, followed patterns. There was a rhythm to crime, a predictability to chaos. Ghosts didn’t play by those rules. They came and went as they pleased, driven by grudges older than time. One day they’d fight beside you, the next, they’d haunt you.

Tim couldn’t get a read on them. Couldn’t strategize. Couldn’t feel useful.

And the more time passed, the more he felt like he was sinking.

-------------------

The bats haunted him too. Every time his phone buzzed, he half-expected to see a message from Dick or Bruce, maybe even a snarky text from Jason. But it was always quiet. No calls. No emergencies. The silence felt heavier here, like it pressed against his chest.

Danny had Amity. He had the support of people who knew him. Tim was just... there. A shadow on the edge of Danny's world. Everyone knew Danny—Phantom, their hero. They didn’t know Tim. Didn’t know who Danny was to him. More than that, they didn’t seem to care.

Tim couldn’t shake the feeling. Replaceable. At least when Jason had thrown that word at him, Tim knew there was always something he could work on to feel needed. A case to solve, a system to hack, a mission to plan.

With Danny, there was... nothing. No crises to solve, no skills that set him apart. No place where he fit.

Danny didn’t need him.

And maybe that was the worst part.

-------------------

They started drifting. Danny would leave in the middle of the night, chasing ghosts Tim didn’t understand. He’d wake up alone in a bed that felt colder by the day. The quiet wasn’t the comforting silence of the Cave or the stillness of a stakeout. It was empty. Lonely.

Tim wasn’t built for this kind of stillness.

One night, he followed Danny. Watched from the shadows as Danny fought a ghost—a brutal, violent storm of green energy and ice. Danny won, of course. Danny always won. But when he turned back, hair white and eyes glowing, something flickered. Something inhuman.

Tim realized, he doesn’t need me.

He confronted Danny that night. “Tim, you can’t follow me out there.” “Why not? You think I can’t handle it?” “It’s not that—” “Then what is it?” Danny’s eyes softened. “This place… it’s dangerous. The things I face, they’re not like Gotham’s criminals.” “I know danger, Danny. I’ve lived with it my whole life.” “That’s not the point.”

Tim’s voice cracked. “Then what is?”

Danny didn’t answer. And Tim didn’t press.

He stayed because leaving felt like admitting defeat. But sometimes, in the quiet moments, he wondered if love was enough. If Amity Park would ever feel like home. If Danny’s ghosts were more than just spectral enemies—if they were the distance growing between them.

He’d jumped too quickly, left too much behind, trusted too blindly. Maybe he’d wanted to believe that leaving Gotham meant he could start over, that he could belong to something simpler. Easier.

But it wasn’t simple. It wasn’t easier.

Tim missed the bats. Missed the chaos, the noise, the feeling of being needed. Here, he felt like a shadow—an echo of a life he wasn’t sure he’d ever get back. And if he stayed too long, he wasn’t sure there’d be anything left of him. He'd become just another ghost haunting Amity Park.

[entitled-fangirl]

His carefully crafted web.

Will Graham x Graham!reader x Hannibal Lecter

Summary: Hannibal wants both the Grahams to himself. He begins to spin his web of lies to get them crawling right to him.

Warning: Manipulation and gaslighting!!

Author's note: You can't look at this gif and be like "That's platonic love." LOOK AT IT! Also- I wanna write just a Hannibal x reader but my mind is blanking so hard.

Masterlist

........................................................

Jack Crawford led the Grahams to the crime scene, letting their eyes wander over the dead body in front of them. 

Neither were easily mortified at vicious killings anymore.

After all, she was their head biologist, and Will was their reconstruction specialist. 

But the dead body in front of them sent a small shiver down the woman's spine.

Will noticed and placed a gentle hand on her back. "You alright?"

She nods, "M'fine."

Jack nods at the two, "Do your thing, Will." And he walks out of the house, leaving the two Grahams alone.

Y/N bends down to the body, "This girl drowned on her own blood. That gives you something to go off of." She stands and gives her husband a sweet kiss on the cheek, "I'll be just outside."

He reaches out and grabs her hand, "Stay?"

Her eyebrows furrow, "I thought you do this best alone?"

"I do, but you help me think. Just… you being near helps me. It… brings me back to reality when I get too lost. Just promise me you'll stay?"

She was at a loss for words, "I… yes… of course."

He nods and closes his eyes, taking deep breaths.

…

"You said that to her?" Hannibal asks Will.

"Yeah, and I meant it too. I've been so worried about not coming out of the daze. She… she keeps me away from making my own design."

"And what happens when she can't help you anymore?"

Will sits up, "what do you mean?"

Hannibal blinks, "There may come a day that she can't help you anymore. What if you hurt her?"

Will loses color in his face, "No, I wouldn't do that."

The doctor shrugs, "How do you know?"

"I just won't." He looks up unsure, "Hannibal, that won't happen, right?"

Hannibal sighs, "I can't guarantee it, Will. You and I both know that."

Will sits back and runs a hand over his face. How could he be so stupid to not think about that? What if he wakes up from his daze to be covered in her blood?

He doesn't think he'd be able to live.

"Just promise me, Will. If something happens, anything, that you'll come to me. I can protect you. And her."

Will nods like it's obvious. 

…

Hannibal had a plan in motion. He always does.

And he wanted the Grahams.

He knew that they were attached at the hip, practically an extension of the other. So in order to gain their trust, he'd have to break them apart. 

But he knew he could always get them back together once they were his.

So, getting under Will's skin was the first step.

And it was too easy.

Hannibal was beginning to spin his little web.

Now, to get Will's wife.

…

"Y/N, may I speak with you?" Hannibal asked the biologist.

She looked up from her microscope in the lab, "Hannibal? You're the last person I expected to see. I'm pleased, don't get me wrong."

He smiled, "I understand. I'm just worried about you."

"Me?" She scoffs lightly, "Why are you worried for me?"

He steps up to her, letting his voice drop, "Has Will ever… laid his hands on you?"

She blinked, "What?"

"Has he hurt you?"

Y/N stepped away from his in suspicion. "No. Will would never. Why are you pointing fingers, Hannibal?"

Hannibal sighs as sets his blazer over a chair. "I'm worried that he's become unstable."

She nods, "He is but he's getting better. That doesn't put me at risk."

His eyebrow raised, "It doesn't?"

Suddenly, she wasn't so sure.

"No, it… Will… he… um… Hannibal, I don't understand."

He steps a bit closer now, their faces inches apart, "If he lays a hand on you, or hurts you in any way, I want to be the first to know. I would never let him touch you."

She tilts her head, "Hannib-"

"-No more. I need a promise, Y/N."

She shakes her head, "It won't happen."

He reaches forward and brushes hair behind her ear, "Your promise, Graham."

"I promise?"

He nods, "Good girl."

And with that, he grabs his jacket and leaves.

…

Now, the Grahams were avoiding each other. 

Neither wanted to talk out their recent feelings with the psychiatrist. 

And Hannibal could not be more pleased. 

Both came practically crawling to him.

And he welcomed them with feigned surprise and open arms.

…

A few months and many manipulative talks later, he had them trained exactly how he wanted them.

Hannibal came home and set his bag down gently, "Y/N?" His voice rang out.

She floated down the stairs happily, "You're home early!"

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist, "I wanted to see you two as quickly as I could."

Will rounded the corner, "Oh. I didn't hear you come in, Hannibal."

Hannibal's smile only grew, "When you read, you're in another world, dear Will."

The two share a gently kiss. 

Will pulls Y/N away from Hannibal's arms to wrap his own around the girl.

"I've been thinking," Hannibal says. He states it as if it's a new thought, and not one he had planned since the day he met the pair, "I feel a bit left out. You're both the Grahams."

Will places a kiss on the woman's neck and then looks up at Hannibal, "Oh, did you want to be a Graham, too, Hannibal? We can make that happen."

"No," Hannibal said with a smirk as he stared at the beautiful couple in front of him- the couple that lived in his home, ate his dinners he created, and slept beside him every night. The couple that belonged to him. "I believe the Lecters are more elegant. Don't you, darling?" He looks at Y/N.

Her lips pull into a line and she looks up at Will, "The Lecters? Will?"

Will was already beaming, "The Lecters. I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Hannibal."

Hannibal smiled.

…

He had spun his web slowly and meticulously, paying attention to every detail. 

And the two little bugs known as the Grahams had landed right in it unknowingly.

After all, the spider was very charming.

.....................................................

[foundheavenly]

His Queen

Disclaimer: English is not my mother tongue so please be nice, thank you <3

Words:

Plot: as his one and only queen, he would do anything to protect you

Theme: devotion, sukuna is whipped about his wife yet quite worried, worship, he doesn’t know how to comfort you

Masterlist

Sukuna's gaze followed your hand, his eyes lingering on your belly. He remembered the sight of you earlier, clutching your stomach as if to protect it, your voice pleading for protection. His heart skipped a beat at the thought, a wave of protectiveness washing over him.

Despite himself, he felt a pang of possessiveness at that, a deeper, more primal part of him rearing its head. You carried his second child within you — his heir, his legacy. The mere thought filled him with a sense of primal satisfaction, of ownership.

But he quickly shook the feeling off. He stepped back, his gaze shifting to your face. Your eyes were half-lidded, your breathing slightly ragged, your body still shaking slightly. You looked small, vulnerable, so unlike the strong, resilient woman he'd fallen in love with.

For a moment, he felt a pang of unfamiliar helplessness. He was used to being in control, to having power over everything and everyone. But now, seeing you like this, he felt like there was nothing he could do to make you feel better — nothing he could do to erase the night's trauma and fear from your heart.

He stood there awkwardly by the bed, unsure of what to do. Should he say something? Comfort you? But he didn't know how. The words didn't come to him — the right ones, at least, and the ones that did, felt too raw, too vulnerable.

“Kuna?” You said as you looked up at him and turned on your back.

His eyes shifted back to you, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of his nickname on your lips. He took a step closer, his expression guarded. "Yes?" he replied, his voice gruff and low.

"Stay with me," you whispered, your voice soft and shaky. Your hand reached out, your fingers seeking his. Your touch was soft, your grip light but undeniably desperate as your fingers wrapped around his own.

Sukuna's gaze met yours, his cold exterior shattering slightly at your plea. Hearing the quiet vulnerability in your tone, seeing the desperation in your eyes, he felt a pang in his heart.

He didn't say a word, but he sat down beside you, his hand covering yours. His fingers gently squeezed yours, a silent assurance of his presence, his protection.

He was not used to this — this vulnerability, this helplessness. He was a ruler, a man who commanded authority, who was feared and respected. But here, in the silence of your shared room, with you lying on the bed, shaking and frightened — he felt like a man stripped of all his pomp and power, laying bare before you.

“Thank you, Kuna.” You said to him.

Sukuna's heart skipped a beat at your simple words. He'd searched the entire forest for you, not knowing if you were safe, not knowing if he would be too late. But now, hearing your voice, seeing you safe beside him — all the fear, all the anger and anxiety melted away, replaced by a fierce surge of relief.

"Of course, brat" he responded gruffly, his hand gently squeezing yours. "I'd tear apart the entire world to find you."

He leaned forward, his other hand moving to caress your face with a tenderness that belied his usual cold façade. His thumb grazed over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that lingered there. "You're safe now," he said, his voice low and firm. "No one will harm you again. I'll make sure of that."

His eyes scanned your face, taking in every detail. He'd never been more fearful in his life than he had been these past few hours, not knowing where you were or what had happened to you. He'd been consumed by a wild, almost animalistic fury, a desperate need to find you and make sure you were safe.

“I know. Despite the fear, I knew you would.” You smiled and looked at him lovingly. You trusted him so much.

Sukuna's chest tightened at your words. Despite the night's traumatic events, despite being hurt by some weakling’s sorcerers, despite the fear, you still had unwavering faith in him. That thought floored him, made his heart both swell and ache at the same time.

He leaned closer, his hand continuing to caress your face. "You know that I would move mountains for you, don't you?" he said, his voice gruff and low, the emotion barely concealed.

He needed you to know. He needed you to understand just how deeply devoted he was to you, how fiercely he loved you. He was the King of curses yes, but he was also your husband, your protector — your safe harbor in this world that often felt like it was out to get you.

He gently brushed away more tears that rolled down your cheeks, the gesture so soft, so unlike the usual brutality that defined him. "You're everything, you know that, right?” he asked, his voice a gruff whisper. "I'd burn the entire empire to ash before I let anything happen to you."

His eyes were tender and intense as he spoke, his gaze holding onto yours as if you were his lifeline, the only thing anchoring him to reality. It was a revelation, this vulnerability he was displaying — something he wouldn't have dared to show anyone else in the world but you.

Because after all, you were his queen, his one and only, and he would be a fool to let anything happen to you.

[smokersbaby]

How OP's men would react to an unexpected hug from their s/o - pt. 2

part 1 (Katakuri, Zoro, Kid, Law)

Characters: Sanji, Smoker, Ace, Crocodile TW: fluff and me making fun of Sanji, sorry Reader: gender neutral Author's notes: since pt. 1 had a lot of success, I decided to continue with this series of headcanons! I'll do a part 3 so suggest to me in the comments who you'd like to see next! (p.s. Sanji's a pervert)

Sanji

Just a hug? Prepare yourself to receive much more than that.

If you hug him tight, he'll hug you tighter, it's like a competition to see who shows more love to the other.

Probably he'd try to give you some smooches, this guy is super glue when it comes to demonstrating love to his partner.

"Y/N-chwan let me love you!" he'd say with a cheesy voice, nosebleeding just by having you in his arms (he can't get accustomed to your closeness).

You'd have to escape from him if you don't want to be dragged into a long make-out session now.

Sanji would look for you as you hide, saying that he only wants more hugs (false, he wants to have seggsy time with you).

Smoker

He gets easily flustered if you hug him out of the blue when alone and it makes him almost panic if in front of other people.

Imagine wrapping your arms around his torso in front of his subordinates. He'll just try faintly to send you away, his cheeks red as tomatoes as he whispers "Not now babe, please".

As you let him go sighing, he'll come back to you as soon as possible, finding an excuse just to have five seconds alone with you.

He'll pick you up and embrace your body as if it was a feather, your arms and legs wrapped against the beefy man as he places his forehead against yours

Too bad his subordinates once caught you two lovebirds having a sweet moment and let out an "Aaaww". Smoker turned around and gave them a glacial, death stare. Their bodies were never found (just kidding, he's a sweetheart).

Ace

This guy is warm to hug (that's no secret, you could have imagined that) and since he's a sweet partner who loves to demonstrate his love physically, he is just obsessed with your hugs and your presence in general.

His hugs are tender and make you feel protected in his arms, he holds you as if you were the most precious thing in the world for him.

Normally, Ace loves hugging you while sitting on the couch, you on his lap and your legs wrapped around him as he rubs your back.

Even though this may be an allusive position for more than just a hug, he wouldn't go further if you don't ask for it. 

Just having his s/o in his arms it's enough for Ace, and comforting you after a stressful day it's one of the things he loves the most (p.s. don't try this with Sanji, he'll take it as an invitation to have seggsy time).

Crocodile

If Crocodile doesn't know it's you approaching him from behind he would turn into sand, your arms wrapping around nothing and leaving an annoyed look on your face.

"Sorry love, I thought it was someone trying to murder me" he'd excuse himself realizing it was his s/o.

He'd pat your head and give you a tight hug to put a smile back on your face since he saw how unimpressed you were from his cautious behaviour.

Next time you'll embrace him with wet hands to neutralize his devilfruit's powers so that he can't escape the hug.

If you manage to gain his complete trust, he'll even let you join him when he's having a shower or taking a bath, since he loses all his strength in both cases. He refuses to admit that but hugging you as he's so vulnerable gives him lots of comfort, he loves it.

[flametrashiraarchive]

hi there!! could I request a sanemi x reader where the reader is either taken or severely injured by a demon?? I am a SLUT for a good protective angst to fluff so you may take any and all creative liberties🤭🤭

Argh this hurt so good haha. Poor 'Nemi 😭 thank you for your ask! I hope you enjoy it!

Cw for you being badly injured, blood, swearing, being in a coma. No sex, just pain and suffering (with a happy ending)

Sanemi Shinazugawa x injured reader

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Sanemi presses his hand firmly to your stomach to stem the bleeding. "Not you. Not you too. You're not fucking leaving me, understand?"

His heart is pounding in his chest, his blood running cold. The demon who injured you is already dead, but if it wasn't Sanemi would kill it all over again and again and again. How fucking dare that monster do this to you? He wants to tear it apart.

"Talk to me. Say something, goddamn it." His voice cracks as he begs you. 

You're barely clinging to consciousness as you reach up and caress his face, accidentally smearing your blood across his cheek. "'Nemi… it's okay."

"No it's not fucking okay, moron."

And then you pass out, and he realizes those are the last words he may ever say to you. 

It's his fault. All of it. 

If he'd fought harder, been firmer with you about you staying home for this mission, taken out both demons instead of trusting you to deal with one of them. If only if only if only. 

Sanemi's life has been plagued with if onlys. He presses his forehead to yours and prays. Who he is praying to, he has no idea… you, the gods, Buddah, death itself… anyone who'll listen.

"Please, please, please. Not you. Not you." 

Hot tears roll down his cheeks as he keeps applying pressure to your wound. His kasugai crow is on its way to bring help. All he can do is hold in your guts and plead.

"Don't leave me alone."

He puts his cheek against yours so his lips are by your ear. "I'll marry you. I'll treat you like goddamn royalty. I'll do anything, just stay. Stay with me." His voice breaks. "Stay. With. Me. Please!"

He doesn't let go. Even when the medical squad comes to help, he keeps the pressure on your wound until they pull him off. And then he holds your hand. He holds it the entire way to the butterfly mansion. He holds it as they operate and put you in a bed to recover, as the doctors come and tell him things he can't understand. All he cares about is whether or not you'll survive. 

Why won't you wake up??

It doesn't matter if you have to rest for months: he'll take care of you while you're bedridden and make sure you take your medicines exactly on time. It doesn't matter if you'll struggle with training for a while: he'll kick your ass all the way through rehab and make you even stronger. He'll change dressings, cook, clean, anything. 

Just…

"Come back to me," he whispers, holding your hand to his forehead as the sun sets on the fifteenth day of your coma. "Wake up, please." 

He's sleeping when you finally do.

Your vision slowly refocuses to find him resting his head on the bed beside your arm, his hand still wrapped around yours. He stirs as you run your fingers through his fluffy white hair, a faint, sleepy smile curving his lips before he snaps back to consciousness and bolts upright.

The force with which he hugs you damn near knocks you into another coma. 

"Don't do that again," he whispers. "You hear me?"

It hurts, but you smile. "I love you too."

He buries his face against your neck and holds you tight, unwilling to ever let you slip away again.

[lyneira]

♡ *doki doki* ♡

-> things that would make their heart beat a little bit faster

Seeing you smile

Itto, Diluc, Childe, Venti, Thoma

He absolutely loves seeing your face brighten up with a genuine smile. It has him subconsciously mirroring you, his face also turning aglow (even if it's in the most subtle way for someone like Diluc) And especially when you're smiling at him, that love grows tenfold and his own smile grows deeper. He can't help but be full of adoration for you upon seeing that lovely expression. More so when that beautiful smile forms into a laugh, oh his heart is soaring.

That's why he often makes it a point to make you smile whenever he sees you. Whether it's doing something kind for you, telling you a joke, or surprising you with a gift, he's going to find any possible way to make you smile. Your smile is just so precious to him as he knows how fleeting happy moments like these can be, despite how much he wishes they'd last forever.

So he will protect it with all his might, and God forbid someone ever makes that smile turn upside down.

Feeling your touch

Xiao, Tighnari, Scaramouche, Dainsleif, Gorou

Your touch soothes them, assures them, warms them. You needn't even give them a big hug. The moment they feel your skin on theirs, even if it's barely a ghost of a touch, they're folding. After all, I honestly don't these guys would be used to skinship even though it's what they'd secretly crave for the most.

He nearly holds his breath as he feels your fingertips gently caress his skin because if he were to let go, he'd be all over you. Each time you touched him, he'd desire more of that warmth. He wanted more of you. You, who would put his mind at rest and feeling your touch reassures them of that. You make him feel safe

Staring deeply into your eyes

Alhaitham, Zhongli, Kaeya, Cyno, Kaveh

There's an unspoken trust and connection when you two gaze into each other’s eyes that there is no need for words to let them know that you love them.

Your eyes say words that your lips cannot express to its full extent, and most of all, your eyes can never lie. That's why when you look into his eyes with so much love, he knows that it's true and it makes him feel warm. He's so happy that there's no denying you love him as much as he loves you.

Hearing your voice

Ayato, Heizou, Kazuha, Albedo, Baizhu

I feel like these people wouldn't like hearing a lot of noise, but on the contrary, I would think that they didn't mind listening to you.

Your voice is such a distinguishable part of you which makes it his favorite. There's no one else who has that same exact tone of voice, the same exact intonation you use, the same laugh that you have, and all of the other sounds you'd make. They love it so much because it could only belong to you. And when his name would come out of your mouth so sweetly? He'd swoon a bit each time.

Any sound from you meant it was a sound from his favorite person in all of Teyvat. So if he wasn't looking and didn't know you were coming to see him, the moment you call out his name, he'd immediately know it was you and he'd smile. His beloved was here.

a/n: this prompt is heavily inspired by one of the click and drag games I made a while ago on @deescade (hehe, shameless plug per usual). I haven't created a genshin one yet, but I currently have a twisted wonderland one and obey me one if y'all are interested!

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[stairain]

Wrong Move You're Dead.

Spencer was never shy about his obsession for you, but you don't know just how far he'd go to prove you belong to him.

Warnings: Switch Spencer, Possessive/Obsessive Spencer, mild mommy kink, knife play (only running against skin and tearing clothing), praise, scent kink, female oral, handcuffs, leg grinding, crying, he cums too quick.

WC: 3.5K

Your chest rose and fell as the cold metal of the chair sent a shiver up your spine. The skin of your wrists were being rubbed raw as the cuffs Spencer had placed on you tightly bound you to the arms of the chair.

Just as you try to escape once more, he walks in. His expression is stoic, and in his hands he holds a knife. The blade glistens in the faint light as he circles you, like a shark to its prey.

He was always one to get possessive whenever anyone talked to you, so it was no surprise that the second he had seen you talking to another man, he dragged you back home and made sure it wouldn’t happen again.

As he walks closer to you, you look up at him with pleading eyes.

"Spencer, baby.. Please let me go."

Your lover shakes his head, almost apologetically. His grip on the knife only tightened as he shook slightly, as if trying to control himself. As he speaks, his voice is shaky and gravelly. 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart. I never would want to hurt you.. but you don't understand. I need to protect you because I care about you. I love you too much to let things get messed up. It's the same reason I can't let you have other friends.”

Spencer turns his back to you and for a short moment you lean your head back against the chair and silently curse. 

“If I don't get you to myself.. that could lead to some serious problems. And I’m sure neither of us want that. You understand, right? Right?”

You swallow as he trudges closer to you, he lifts the knife and runs his fingers over the dull edge, as if to frighten you. His voice sounds desperate, almost like he was trying to appeal to that soft spot you have for him.

"Baby I'm serious. Let me go, and put down the knife."

He seems to ignore your words, just slowly walking closer and closer to you. “I will never hurt you. But I will never let you leave me. I would do anything for you, because I love you. I can't live without you. You mean everything to me. You are my life. 

 He gets a soft look in his eyes and his voice wavers as he speaks, his emotions getting the better of him as tears start to spring in his eyes. 

 “I would kill for you. If that's not true love, then I don't know what is.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head. It wasn't often he got like this, despite fitting into the role so well. Your breaths come out in shallow huffs as you try to reason with him.

"I won't leave you, Spence. Just–please, let me go and we can talk about this, alright?"

An evil smile spreads across his face and it makes you all the more nervous. 

“Oh, trust me. I know you won’t ever leave me. I’ll make sure of it.” 

He abruptly points the knife at you, and you shrink into yourself away from the blade. Your fear seems to only drive him on. 

“But I need you to swear that you will never be with any other man, ever, as long as you live.”

You feel the tip of the knife press against your jaw, and there's a slight tremble in your skin. You can feel his heaving breathing against your face, and you try your best to look up at him. His curly hair falling in front of his face, the heavy huffs from his mouth making the locks sway between the two of you. 

"I–I promise.”

Despite your confession, he doesn't move away from you, in fact, he begins to drag the knife lightly down your jaw, a sadistic smile plastered on his face. The shake in his hands allows for the blade to stagger against your skin. He pushed it gently to the side, so the flat side was flush with your sweaty skin. .

“You understand how important this is, right? If you make one mistake with this, it could ruin everything.”

His grip on the knife tightens, and he’s breathing so heavily that the metal of the knife is starting to fog up.

“You must promise to never, ever, ever think of any other man than me. You may never go out with a male friend. You shouldn’t even have male friends. You may never interact with a male in a way outside of business. I must always come first. Do you understand?”

Turning your head to the side so as to not get cut, he trails the blade against your skin. He's not pressing nearly hard enough to hurt you, but the cold metal against your face has you shuddering under his touch. 

"You're my priority always, Spence. You know that." You try your hardest to say your words with a confident tone, but the break in your voice gives away just how terrified you are.

“Say it again. Say it again, baby, please.”

Spencer seems to be enjoying himself, making you feel so much fear. His tone is serious, and he doesn't seem like he'll stop until you tell him what he wants to hear.

“Tell me I'm the only important thing to you, and that I come first no matter what.”

As he speaks, he's slowly running the point of the knife to your chin. His grip on the handle only tightens as he watches with a wicked grin at the way you're trembling.

"Y-You come first no matter what, baby."

But despite the sincerity in your voice, his expression doesn't soften at all. He bites his lip for a moment before moving the tip of the knife to the bottom of your chin and lifting it a bit, so you're forced to look at him.

"I don't believe you." He says, his soft voice dripping with a cold and malicious tone as the look in his eyes darkens. Your heart pounds impossibly faster as he mutters these words to you, and it takes everything in you to not try and break free once more.

“Tell me, again. Tell me I'm more important than everything. No matter what it is, I come first. Nothing and no one will ever take priority over me.” 

"You always come first, Spence. No one is as important as you are."

Your voice is uneasy, but he ignores your words. He’s moving the blade down your throat, the slight scratch has your breath hitching. As soon as he reaches the collar of your shirt, he gives you one last look before he's cutting through the fabric, beginning to tear the clothing that covers you. You gasp, and try to move away from him.

"Spence–stop it."

He lets out a slight laugh and drags the edge further down your top, the crude noise of cotton tearing filling your ears.

“It's too late to stop it, my love. It's already been done. Your collar’s already cut up, I can just take it all off and make you sit here with every inch of you exposed. How about that? Does that sound fun to you?”

His voice is borderline primal at this point, shaking with the primitive instinct to mark you as his forever and ever, and to never let you go again. You were completely and utterly his, and he planned on making sure you’d never forget. 

You shake your head, but the arousal rushing through your body betrays you. As he drags the knife down your chest, ripping through your shirt inch by inch, you can't help the feeling of how turned on you were. 

“Oh, baby.. Looks like I cut your shirt too much, you’re all exposed for me.. How could that be? I'm very, very upset.”

His tone makes it clear that he's being sarcastic. As the remnants of your top fall to the ground, absolutely shredded and torn to pieces from his actions, your skin raises with goosebumps as you're only left in your bra and pants. You look up at him and swallow, knowing better than to reply to him. 

“You look so cold. I mean, you might as well not be wearing anything at all at this point. Why don't I just take this off too?”

His tone is taunting as he scrapes the blade against the lacy material of your bra. The both of you can see just how labored your breathing is, meeting the knife halfway in the air with each greedy breath of air you took. 

"Spence, please."

Even though your words sound pleading for him to just let you go, you don't tell him to stop. You don't want him to. You rub your thighs together in arousal as he traces the wire of your bra with the knife.

There’s a shameful amount of slick pooling in your panties right now, and you just hoped he’d stop now to spare you from embarrassment when he sees just how much you’ve soaked through your underwear. 

Spencer cuts the strap and watches you as it falls to the floor. His eyes never leave you as his hands skillfully make work of stripping your upper half, and your skin runs hot as his gaze doesn’t break, even for a moment. He knew exactly what he was doing, he knew exactly how to work you.

“God, look at you. This all for me?”

The cocky tone in his voice just spurs you on further, and you shake your head slightly. You had no other choice but to let him do whatever he wanted to you, just the way you liked it.

Once your breasts were left exposed to him, and you were surrounded by shreds of fabric, he backs away from you and drops to his knees. Your eyes follow him, and you subtly press your thighs together in attempt for the littlest bit of friction. 

“You know, baby, you're very beautiful. I wouldn't have ever imagined when I met you that I would get someone this beautiful. And not only are you pretty, but you're kind. You're so sweet and caring, and you've helped me through so much.”

Spencer leans forward and presses his cheek into your clothed thigh, taking a deep breath. And as if a shark were to smell fresh blood, his pupils dilated almost immediately upon smelling your arousal and slick through your pants. His mouth parts in a silent moan and a burning hot blush washes over your face at the noise.  

“Which is why I love you.. No matter what happens, I will never be able to replace you. I could never replace my dear, sweet girl.”

He takes another deep inhale and you can hear just how much he was filling his lungs with you. His eyes involuntarily roll back into his head and he sighs. 

“You smell so fucking good..” 

The otherwise forgotten knife lifts in his fist, and he takes the handle between his lips as his now free hands move to unbutton and unzip your pants. You lift your ass a bit to help him pull them off of you, and soon enough the moment you were dreading is face to face with you. 

Through the mouthful of the knife, you watch as a cocky smile appears on his face. His eyes flash up to you for a short moment as he pulls your jeans down your calves and discards them. Taking the blade out of his mouth, he licks his lips once before he’s firmly grasping the weapon again. 

The sharp tip presses against your hip, just barely above where the dainty straps of your panties laid. Spencer absentmindedly traces your hip bones with the knife.

“You know, maybe I should just keep you here forever.. All spread out for me, have your scent fill the room and make sure no one else gets to see you but me. How’s that sound?” 

He gives you those dreaded puppy dog eyes as he desperately waits for your answer. You swallow and shake your head.

“No, baby.”

Spencer’s face falls almost immediately and he drags the knife down the strap, effectively slicing through it without a problem. Your eyes squeeze shut at the abrupt action, and he goes to do the same on the other side of your hip. 

“Why?” 

Your panties fall off your body with ease, exposing the soaked surface where your drenched cunt sat. You can hear the loud clatter of the blade hitting the ground, and you almost scream in relief. 

His cold hands slither up your legs, then spread your thighs open to reveal yourself even more to him. As he parts your legs, the folds of your pussy are coated with slick. Stringy arousal connecting from your cunt and thighs that has him dizzy. 

“I’m all you need. I’m all you’ll ever need. You don’t think the same?” 

The man leans forward and nudges his nose directly on your clit, making your thighs clench and mouth drop in a soft moan. He breathes in your raw scent and lets out a guttural groan.

He presses a small kiss to your dripping hole before licking his lips and sitting back on his calves. He looks up at you needily, head slightly tilted to the side in confusion. 

Your eyes quickly flitter to the discarded knife and you just pray he’ll keep his hands in his lap as they are now. He’s sporting a painful looking bulge. It’s straining against the fabric of his dress pants, begging to be freed and drained. 

“Don’t you love me?”

His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes wide and waiting. You sigh and extend your leg out so it’s nudging against his erection. His breath hitches at the stimulation, and he can’t help the way his hips hump against you. 

“I do love you, baby. But you can’t keep me here forever, you know that.”

Your tone is comforting and warm, trying your best not to upset him now. He doesn’t protest, too engrossed in what little pleasure you’re granting him. He moves his body closer to you once again, your leg still slotted between his thighs as he comes face to face with your cunt. 

“Love? Do you think you can let me out of these cuffs?”

Now that he had seemingly calmed down a bit, it was worth a shot to ask. He cranes his neck up a bit to look at you, and looks to the side for a moment as if to contemplate it. With a sigh, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small key. 

He’s quick to free you from your binds, hands trembling as he pulls them off of you. His voice is quiet when he decides he wants to speak. 

“I’m sorry, mommy..”

You twist your wrists to get the blood flowing back through them, and you shake them out for a quick moment before you reach out to run a hand through his messy hair. You card your fingers through his locks as he looks up at you in apology. 

“It’s alright, baby. Just–please listen to me next time, alright?”

The calf he’s nestled upon presses closer to him, and his lips drop in a gentle whimper. Spencer nods and starts to grind himself against you as he leans forward and licks a broad stripe up your cunt. 

His hands snake around your thighs to spread them open and hold you down as he begins to licks and suck at your folds and clit. Loud moans soar from you as he tastes everything you have to offer him. He’s letting out small whines, not only from the taste and smell of you, but also from the way he’s getting off by humping at your leg like some pathetic dog. 

With each thrust of his hips, he’s rubbing the weeping head of his cock against the rough fabric of his pants that’s stationed right against your leg. He’s already dangerously close, but he wouldn’t stop until he was positive he had drunk up everything you gave him.

His large nose bumps against your sensitive clit, while his long hot tongue slithers into your hole. It scrapes against the insides of your walls, letting you gush on the muscle as it licks over every surface it possibly can. 

The hand in his hair twists as your grip tightens, urging him closer to your core, despite being so deep inside of you already. He’s noisily slurping at your sopping cunt, swallowing down each little spurt of slick you offer to him. Incessant moans spill from his mouth, vibrating against your folds as he pushes himself closer and closer over his edge. 

“You’re doing such a good job, baby..” 

He tries his hardest to hold himself back, but as he relishes in your praise, the push of his hips only speeds up, and the friction is simply too irresistible for him. He lets out a pathetic whimper before his entire body stills for a moment. Shaking his head against your thighs, he whines into your cunt.

“No, no, no.. Fuck–Fuck I-I’m sorry, mommy..” 

Spencer’s voice shakes and his eyes involuntarily cross in his skull as his orgasm makes him fill his boxers with his thick warm release. You can feel the warmth of his cum spurting against his garments, and stroke his hair. 

“It’s okay baby, It’s okay..”

You try to comfort him in which he just shakes his head. His lower body is twitching unceasingly, and you can feel hot tears spill from his eyes, running down the expanse of your inner thighs. 

As he cries into your core, you bite your lip and try to pull him back to comfort him more. But he stays glued to your thighs and cunt as he sniffles and speaks. 

“P-Please.. Please let me make it up to you, I’m so sorry.”

You can do nothing but give him a shaky nod, relaxing against the chair as he dives back down and plunges his tongue right back into you. The feeling of him fucking you with his mouth has you keeling over him, hands gripping his thick locks, lifting your ass off the chair to grind against his nose. 

His tongue swirls around against your deliciously drenched folds as his lips encompass your pulsing clit. You throw your head back against the top rail of the chair and squeeze your eyes shut. His premature orgasm seemed to only fuel him, wanting to make you cum on his tongue and scream out for him and only him even more than before. 

Spencer’s chin is absolutely drenched at this point, you were so wet that it was dripping down his neck and soaking his skin. Through his ministrations to your pussy, you could feel just how desperately he was begging for you to give him what he wanted so badly. 

As his tongue pistoned in and out of you like a jackhammer, and with how he relentlessly sucked at your clit, you knew you could only keep your composure for so long. When you look down you almost choke on your moan, he was already staring at you. Wide hazel eyes boring into your figure like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

And you are. 

Your gaze never tears from his, your eyes locked in on each other as he shoves you towards your orgasm. Through a broken whimper and slur of praises, you’re bursting in his mouth. Streams of your arousal gush against his tongue, and he’s eager to swallow and drink down everything he can. 

Spencer moans and tries his very best to guide you through your release, battling whether or not to gently coax you through your orgasm until you stop shaking, or to greedily suck on your folds until you give him a second helping of your juices. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t go for the latter. 

Your thighs tremble around where he’s buried between them, and the hand in his hair gripping for dear life slowly loosens as your moans begin to die down. He’s still attached to your clit like a man starved, and after a few minutes of him being latched on, you pull him off of you. 

He lets out a small noise of discontentment of being interrupted, and you almost laugh at how positively soaked his face is. His lips glistening and nose shining with your slick, chin almost dripping with your release. Licking over his lips and wiping his mouth, he smiles up at you. 

You push the fallen sweat covered hair out of his face as you even out your breathing. And he’s just about on the same boat as you, panting and chest heaving as if he had been holding his breath the entire time. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had. 

“Feel like you’ve proved your point?” 

You cradle his jaw in your wavering hands, eyes hooded and mouth dry. Spencer lets out a small huff of a laugh and sighs. 

“Not quite yet. Your neck is far too empty for my liking..”

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

hey ari, i’m truly having an awful night. there’s a free pass for anything that involves someone being protective against a shitty guardian/parental figure. i wish jason todd would’ve kicked my dads ass tonight.

Lee took to Alfred much more warmly, peppering him with little boy questions about dinosaurs and oddly enough... piccolos? Which made the butler wonder if there was not a single neurotypical person in the entire family.

Adorable. He was enchanted. All dimples and curls. He'd carried Alfred a mug of tea managing to only spill half of it on the floor for the boxer and the wolf hound. And to get under your feet nearly causing you to fall twice- managing to get exiled to play outside with his dog.

It was a lovely afternoon. Watching Jason be so... soft. So helplessly in love with his wife and his children. Excited to be a new father. He enjoyed doting on his wife and fussing over his kids. He was comfortable in the vintage kitchen and the narrow halls. He liked the routine. Coming home to something stable.

When you started stretching your back in your kitchen chair, Jason smiled a little, "C'mon, let's get you on the couch."

"I'm fine, I just needed to-"

"Let's please not have to take you back to the hospital," Jason coaxed, helping you to your feet. "I'll tell Lee he needs to run in sight of the bay window every so often."

You snort and let him help you, grateful that he's strong enough to catch you if you need him to. It's comforting. He's comforting. Between his bulk beside you and Boris behind you. By the time he has you on the sofa you already feel better. At least until your phone rang.

"Hello?"

Jason frowned. He could tell from the look on your face who it was and he got Alfred seated listening with half an ear. Your biological father wanted money. Again. Either to have it put on his books or your sisters.

It hardly mattered. The divorce happened. Battle lines got drawn. You chose mom Mandy chose dad. Now you raised Mandy's kids and got "everything handed to you" as far as she could tell. Never mind trusts and adoptions. Or love. Or duty.

He gave Alfred a meaningful look and took a deep breath. Your biological dad and your sister were both banned. They both had no contact orders. And the second they upset you he'd be hanging up.

Your voice cracked. And tears fell.

And gently but firmly Jason plucked the phone from your hand, "If you're that fucking worried about Mandy's books use store brand instead of name brand for your meth and cut costs. Figure it out. Call here again and I'll report you to your PO." But before he could reply he hung up.

"Jay-"

"Shh," he soothed, "don't cry baby girl."

"God I hate it."

"I know," he hummed, wrapping his arms around you. "But you're doing good. Just breathe." He broke off and wiped your face, kissing your forehead, "I can't get you a shot but I can get the baby a snack," he teased, "what do they want?"

"Milk chocolate sea salt caramel truffles," you tell him.

He grinned and kissed your nose before standing up, "Alfred, did you feel up to going to the store with me or do you want to stay and keep Y/N company?"

"Well obviously," Alfred said sipping a fresh cup of tea, "I'm going to stay here and be nosey."

"Ky it is," Jason said, "I'll take a kid and a grocery list... then maybe we won't come home with half the cereal aisle."

"We hope," you tell him smiling.

"Shh," Jason said. "Be nice to me and I'll buy more than one bag of truffles."

"You should probably do that anyway," Alfred observed. "For practical reasons."

[prettyoatmeal]

konig dating headcannons?

König Headcanons While You're Dating

YES!!!! I was actually just working on them before you'd asked this so I'm glad I could quickly finish this up in time to send a reply. I'm the biggest König fangirl so I already had this sitting in my drafts for a bit.

Just like the last one, there will be SFW and NSFW headcanons with a Gender Neutral reader.

Genre: Fluff, smut under NSFW cut.

Warnings: Mentions of König's social anxiety.

Enjoy!!

Masterlist here!

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

You'd needed to be the one to tell him how you felt. His anxiety denied him to ever open up in a way like that. What if you didn't feel the same? You wouldn't want to be his friend anymore then he'd be stuck with no one to talk to. You were the one person that could bring him complete comfort so that was difficult for him.

Getting to know him over the time allowed him to feel more comfortable around you and vice versa. He's a stud. A 6'10 killing machine, but his personality didn't depict that at all.

He was gentle and caring, not at all like the persona behind his mask. Not like the one that goes on missions and slaughter sprees.

He worried too much about falling for his only friend that his heart couldn't take it when you finally told him you liked him.

His heart was beating so fast, you swore you could hear it thumping against his chest.

He tried keeping his composure, but the excitement in his voice was not able to be hidden.

"Date? Tomorrow night?"

Thats where the beautiful relationship blossomed.

After you'd been dating for a while, his true colours would start showing.

He'd cook for you, clean for you, pretty much do all the housework so you wouldn't have to lift a muscle.

Of course you still helped, you couldn't have him doing all the chores. But it was the thought that counted.

Cooking would be his favourite way to impress you when he isn't deployed, and this type of Central European cuisine became a main portion of your diet.

"My love, König, you're doing the always cooking. Let me take over for tonight."

"Schatz, please, I'm trying to concentrate on the Goulash. Sit down."

Yes, sir 🫡

König would always be big on communication. It's the foundation for a healthy relationship. If he was ever anxious or afraid of something, he'd always come to you even if he barely had the courage to do so.

You'd always give him that closure he needed to hear, and vice versa.

He may be cold and serious on missions, but thats only because his job required him to be like that. In reality, König was very emotional.

He'd never really had someone like you to open up to, so just talking about his feelings (whether he'd be happy or upset) would result in him almost sobbing.

He would very much be that person to babble on for hours and hours at a time to you about his special interests. He could talk for hours about all his different guns and knives and the stories behind them. And you would gladly listen.

König would often get lost in how passionate he is about his firearms and you couldn't do anything but stare back at him with heart eyes. He became so talkative with you, it made you fall in love with him even more. König knew he could trust you, so he couldn't help but get every thought out all at once about his interests. He wanted you to know every little detail possible, and even if you had no idea what he was talking about, you would still gladly listen and match his excitement.

It was bloody adorable.

He'd definitely take you to a shooting range to guide you at and try to teach you to be just as good as him handling firearms.

Since serving in the military is so big in his life, he'd teach you some self defence methods for when he isn't around to protect you.

He couldn't let anything happen to you or he'd never forgive himself.

König wouldn't show much PDA, he'd definitely be too nervous for that. Maybe the occasional hand holding. But alone, he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off you.

He'd be all over you, holding onto your waist, your thighs, your hips. He'd constantly be trying to hold onto you, following you around behind you like a lost puppy if it meant he could hold onto your hand just a little while longer.

Holding onto you made him feel safe. As long as he's holding onto you, you couldn't leave him.

The poor boy was so touch deprived, the first hug you'd ended up giving him, he didn't know how to hug you back and almost started sobbing.

He'd need to hold back when hugging you just so he wouldn't crush your bones. He was very unaware of his strength the first time he'd hugged you back and gave you that little bit of an uncomfortable squish.

He'd realised how tightly he squeezed you without him even noticing so he promised himself that he'd always be as gentle as possible with you.

He felt like an elephant in a porcelain store when he was around you. Like a rare treasure that was his and only his, so precious and so fragile.

The first time he'd prompted to remove his hood for you, you instantly felt nervous. And so did he! He was extremely anxious you'd despise his looks. He was pretty insecure already due to his massive height and build, especially as a sniper. His size was already inconvenient, he didn't want you to think less of him due to how his face looks.

He'd finally removed his hood and you could do nothing but stare at him in awe, observing all his beautiful features.

You were staring at his beauty so much you almost didn't realised he'd teared up a little. It's safe to say he was very flustered.

"No, my love, don't start crying. You're too beautiful to cry."

He'd cry anyway and you'd end up with a sobbing soldier in your chest.

You had been calling him your 'beautiful boy' and 'pretty boy' ever since, and it gets him embarrassed every time. Getting more comfortable around you and not wearing his hood all that often anymore, he can't hid his red face anymore.

That'll also end with him burying his face into your chest.

No matter how big he'd be compared to you, he'd always be your pretty little boy.

__________________

NSFW

I'll say it once and only once,

He's a thighs man.

If you two are in a saucy situation, he'll be practically ripping into your thighs. Grabbing them, digging his fingers into them, he would not be able to keep his hands off them.

(Or mouth)

He had a thing for marking you.

He wouldn't mark you in clearly visible places like on your neck or anything. He'd leave those marks on your collar bone or your chest or your thighs. Those little purple and blue bruises and love bites. Out of sight, out of mind. But not for him.

No one else could see them, except him. No one knew they were there, except him.

He'd often feel himself getting hard in places he shouldn't like when you two are out together just by thinking of those love bites he'd leave on you. Looking in the general direction of them would make his mind go wild. A simple trip to the bathroom would pursue and he'd relieve himself as quietly as possible.

Speaking of such, he'd be very vocal in bed.

He has a tough and cold outer shell, but inside that is still a man that loves to please you.

BIG size kink.

He loves laying his cock against your stomach just to see the size difference.

"Liebling, how will you ever be able to take this? I suppose he'll just need to make it fit, won't we?"

The first time with him, early on he'd be gentle and whiny.

Slow, deep thrusts, making sure you both feel as good as possible.

Then he'd start getting desperate and his moans would become louder.

Dirty talk king, here.

Or well,

Dirty talk König.

Not the talk itself, but the way he delivers it.

He'll whisper the some generic sentences you'll hear in dirty talk, but in the filthiest, most shameless moans you'd ever hear from this man.

"I ought to fill you up with my cum, shouldn't I, S-Schatz? Leave a- shieße- a pretty l-little bulge in your stomach, hmm?"

His job requires a lot of stamina from him, and boy does he have that.

He'll pound into you like theres no tomorrow.

"Liebling- fuuuck!- Ahh, i'm so close. Please, please, please, please may I cum inside you! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."

He'll beg you to cum even if you can't say anything back. Even if theres nothing else on your mind, even if you've been dumbified down by his rapid pounding and all you can think about now is his cock inside you and how it throbs for his release.

When he does cum, inside you or not, he lets out the most shameless, high pitched moans and whimpers which you'd never expected a man like him to release.

And,

Oh boy,

It was hot.

König couldn't care in the moment who could hear, all he wanted them to know was how good his partner is making him feel.

And the same went for you.

He'd want you to make as much noise as you could, he would not let you shut up. If you ever went to cover your mouth or bite onto your tongue to keep yourself from making any noise, he'd quickly notice on it and tell you to stop. He's the kind to intertwine your fingers together and pin them next to you just so you don't cover your mouth again.

Again, he'd be very big on pleasing you though.

If you are AFAB, this man would be very pussy drunk for days and days after the session, unable to think of anything else other than you.

He'd eat you out like theres no tomorrow, making you shake and shiver with every time you'd climax on his mouth. Then the pattern would repeat.

If you are AMAB, he would not be able to keep your cock out of his mouth.

He may be massive compared to you, but he isn't used to the feeling of anything really in his mouth, so he'd gag maybe just a bit before he'd gotten used to it.

But he loved it, he loved it so fucking much. He loved the feeling of your cock down his throat as your cum is forced down his oesophagus.

He'd look up at you with the most beautiful puppy eyes you'd ever seen, indirectly begging for you to cum in his mouth.

Then you would, and he'd put the attention back in between your legs.

Very into praise, giving and receiving, it makes him remember he's loved.

You calling him a good boy would just raise his sex drive. Doing this will also send the sweaty, incoherently babbling mess of a man into a silent shock for a split second before he'd let out those beautiful noises again.

"S-Say it again,, please.."

He'd beg you in between loud moans.

"Come on, König, who's my good boy?"

...

That's when you'd feel that hot, thick, gooey liquid shoot inside of you as he let out the filthiest moan you'd ever hear.

And he'll keep going.

He'll keep thrusting into you, overstimulated as hell and letting out the most breathy, wet noises from his mouth. He couldn't get enough of that feeling of being inside you.

His real pleasure comes from making you cum though, making sure you're through and satisfied by the time you two finish.

After your sessions he'd constantly be saying he loved you and how well you did taking him. He'd apologise for anything and everything, if he hurt you too much or if his cock stretched you out too much.

Fuck that,

You wouldn't be able to walk after his poundings, he'd need to give you extensive help so you wouldn't collapse onto the floor.

He'll make sure you're hydrated and cleaned up before taking you back to bed.

He'd kiss all the places he'd grabbed onto and left marks on (leaving more marks in the process).

"I'm so sorry, Schatzi. I didn't mean to cause you to not be able to walk."

"Be a good boy for me, König, and help me walk to the bathroom."

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

Thank you so much for asking this!! And if you've read this all the way. I hope you enjoyed my babbles. Goodnight <3

*************** DISCLAIMER Under no circumstances do I give permission to copy, repost, or manipulate my work in any way. I am not comfortable with this. If you wish to translate my work, message me privately. My inbox is always open.

[argisthebulwark]

All Emotion Dripped Away

summary: skyrim men and their red flags <3 gn reader, no gendered terms or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Miraak, Vilkas, Farkas, Cicero, Mercer warnings: some unhealthy relationship dynamics.

Brynjolf's inability to commit is maddening. The worst part is that you understand exactly what led to him acting this way - losing Karliah and Gallus at such a young age, Mercer effectively ruining every positive moment they've shared, thinking that he's lost you. You can understand his aversion to committing himself to another person but the knowledge doesn't make it any easier to handle. "Must we put a label on it?" He groans, dragging your chair closer to his. He leans closer, lips only a few inches away - he knows exactly what he's doing. It's his most common maneuver - kiss you until you can hardly think, distracting you from anything deeper. "It's difficult to think with you so close." You breathe, attempting to resist his charm. "Aye, as you've said." "Don't you want more?" You ask, allowing his fingers to creep under your armor. "Why ruin a good thing?" His kiss is full of heat, a promise for more to come if you're willing to forget this conversation.

At first, Miraak's protectiveness was sweet. He accompanied you on missions far from home and fought at your side. Losing Mora's power had only caused him to become more focused on retaining the skills he had. Over time, it grew. You noticed him tagging along on shorter trips, soon finding that even a quick visit to a nearby village for supplies was a two person job. You'd faced dragons and giants, climbed High Hrothgar and aided in the resolution of a Civil War - yet it seemed you couldn't be trusted to walk a few miles from home. "I don't want to risk you, my love." He insists, falling into step at your side. "What if you were harmed? What if you're hurt and no one is there to aid you?" You don't like this almost childish way he seems to view you - once he'd doted on you, though now it almost seems as if he doesn't trust you to walk without some grievous injury befalling you. He's coddling you.

As an outsider, Vilkas had always appeared confident, headstrong, willing to tackle any problem. He's strong and intelligent and well spoken, of course he can handle things. As a partner, you've been surprised by his avoidance. When you were a recruit he had no trouble voicing your many faults, even as his Harbinger he's been critical - but not his partner. Those problems remain firmly within his own mind. You know he bottles them up, stewing on these emotions until he talks himself out of being upset, rationalizing everything. "If you don't tell me what it is you need, I cannot give it to you." You've pleaded with him, desperate to make this work. "I love you more than I can say - please, all I need is for you to talk to me." "There is nothing to talk about."

Farkas' recklessness had saved your ass on many occasions, but as his spouse it left you a nervous wreck. He'd often laugh off your worries before leaving for days, unable to communicate due to clearing out some bandit camp. His lack of self preservation reduced you to a mess of nerves, trying to work through it but unable to stop your eyes from wandering each time a door opened. "It's not a big deal." Farkas pouts, kneeling before you. His armor's all strapped into place and a pack of supplies hangs over one shoulder - he's about to leave again. Your heart kicks into overdrive, fingers shaking when they clasp the sides of his face. "I always come back safe, dear." He reminds you, that easy grin on his face. "Do you not trust me out there without you?" "I'd feel quite a bit better if I were at your side." You admit, staring pointedly at the sword slung across his back. "We do work well together." He agrees, a kiss planted on your cheek before he stands. "But you're the Harbinger, you have more important duties." Of course you did - your duties included paperwork and worrying, both of which were beginning to wear on your nerves.

You can't fault poor Cicero for his inexperience - he spent far too many years alone, no one but the Night Mother to keep him company. Isolation had changed him, left him lacking the knowledge many others took for granted. Of course you love him, you'd fallen head over heels for the fool and never looked back, but your relationship didn't come without it's own trials. He'd never learned the common things to do in a relationship; little things many couples did like dates were nonexistent and he had no clue how a normal relationship was paced. Falling for each other was easy, why hold back? Why not go all the way? It didn't help that his relationship with the other assassins was strained at best - some were friendly, others shut him out entirely. You were the only one he could turn to, the only one willing to share a meal and a laugh with your beloved Keeper. "Listener, will you teach poor Cicero how to love you?" He coos, gently combing the hair away from your face. Your first instinct is to refuse, to tell him that it's too much - but the peaceful smile melts your heart. "I want to love you the right way."

Often, you find yourself what Mercer likes more - being with you or keeping secrets from you. He omits things that don't even matter which only heightens your anxiety on the topic; if he's willing to lie about something as trivial as who went on what job or which client he's meeting with, what else could he be hiding from you? You tell yourself that it's nothing, just a survival trait he's picked up over the decades of leading the Thieves Guild, but it's impossible to ignore. He doesn't seem to enjoy the jealousy it incites within you but you can't quite puzzle out what he gets from it. In the end, it's easier to accept that he merely enjoys keeping secrets. Only the gods knew how long it had been since he'd last opened up to anyone and you were afraid that prying would make him snap shut the little window you've carved out in his heart.