#I'm so down bad for him that its pitiful

[klirk-hammurton]

Kirk vandalizing guitars is probably my new favorite thing

[gachaparadise]

ahhh the Penacony leaks are really coming in now.

*chuckles* I'm in danger.

[elflutter]

— guard dog

kinktober 01 → dom/sub dynamics

sub!logan x dom mutant fem!reader

synopsis

Nobody would believe how his masculine bravado fell as he let you take control. They didn’t notice how you could dismiss him with a nod of your head, how he would immediately back down from a fight if you told him to drop it. Like a dog with a bone. That’s the thing about Logan. He is protective like a guard dog is  protective. And he is submissive like a guard dog is submissive. Oh, you so enjoy training him.

wordcount: 4k+ | crossposted to ao3

tags/warnings below the cut

tags/warnings: explicit (18+ mdni), dom/sub, light pain kink, light praise kink, porn with feelings, hurt/comfort, logan calls reader ma'am, reader wears a dress, pet names (incl. baby, pretty boy, kitty cat), degradation, oral sex (f. recieving), mutual mast., unprotected p i v, fingering, come eating, logan is compared to a guard dog (non-sexually), one (1) mention of collar play, no use of y/n. i'm sure i've forgotten something, please let me know if i have!

a/n: i have no excuse for this omfg. i'm a slut, ok!! and i am allergic to writing smut without including major feels what's up with that

thank you to the lovely @eupheme for looking over this before i posted!

You love seeing Logan like this. On his knees, eyes glazed over, beard drenched in your slick. Fingers tangled in his hair, hard grip pulling his head away from your cunt. You are bare beneath your dress, hiked up to your stomach, but Logan is completely naked. Looking down at him from where you sit on the edge of the bed, thighs spread wide. In complete control as he whines at the loss of his mouth on you, completely drunk on your taste. Candlelight and the Autumn twilight illuminating the planes of his face like liquid gold. Your core throbs where his tongue was just a moment ago. 

You hush him, your free hand cupping his jaw. “You miss my pussy, baby?” Your brows knit together in mock pity at the desperate sound he makes in affirmation. He grinds feebly at the side of your mattress, neglected cock aching for something, anything. Maybe it says something bad about you, that you get off on seeing him so pathetic. But you know he craves this too. 

He was embarrassed about it, at first. Being submissive. Getting hard when you called him your sweet baby, your pretty boy, voice dripping with condescension. But you could tell that he needed to unwind the second he woke up after you dragged him into the X-mansion with Jean and Scott. You could feel it, the emotions pouring from him. 

Your mutation is a difficult thing to control. To turn off. Sometimes, you feel like a creep. A trespasser. Knowing the deepest emotions of a stranger, ones they may not even recognize themselves. You think Jean and Charles are lucky, with powers rooted in thought. They can tease out feelings too, but their power is fundamentally different from yours. Thought is intention. Emotions are energy. 

“You can’t force your retinas to stop sensing photons just because the light bulb does not know you can see it. Even if you close your eyes, my dear, you will still be able to see its light, however dimmed.” Charles’ words from your first day at the mansion help to curb the guilt; when you feel like an intruder. 

You certainly felt like an intruder months ago, when Logan woke up in the lab, lit aflame like a wildfire. Fear and rage, as he shot up from the table. Confusion, as he pulled the IV from his arm. Idiot. You tried to ground yourself in something tangible, anything, to keep yourself from feeling him. So much him. The buzz of the fluorescent bulbs. The vent blowing cool air against your skin. The weight of contact where your feet met the floor.

You taught mindfulness and meditation to the students and your teammates. Helped them to guard their emotions from people like you. For you, meditation was like closing your eyes. You could still sense those around you, it was just easier to tune out. Like hearing music through cotton in your ears. When others meditated, it was like switching off the light bulb. Leading students through exercises in your class was your favorite time of the day. Sweet silence enveloping you like an embrace from an old friend. 

Later on that first day, when you introduced yourself to Logan properly, he grumbled, “Stay out of my head, bub.” His frustration butted against you like a battering ram. And you stood against it, the feeling piercing your heart just a little. Powers standing tall as a wall of stone as you told him that it wasn’t that simple. You wished they could have just crumbled. You couldn’t help but feel guilt eat away at you like it always did. You wouldn’t blame him if he hated you. 

Over his first few weeks in the mansion, you taught him basic mindfulness in one-on-one sessions. He had trouble taking it seriously; thought it was silly. A bit out, “No way this’ll work, bub,” as you led him through meditation in the training room, sat cross-legged on the mat across from him. You told him to close his eyes, to focus on the feeling of his breaths. “Now you’re just makin’ fun’a me,” as you told him not to fight his emotions. After twenty minutes, you could still feel the anxiety gnawing at him. Just as bad as at the start of the session. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze met yours— bright hazel making your breath hitch. His fear and anger and self-loathing were banked for a moment, and you felt something else. Understanding. Desire. You weren’t sure if it was his, or yours. Maybe both. He ended up in your bed that night. 

Your first few times were pretty vanilla. Him on top, pounding into you, sweat from his brow falling against your cheek. After a month of him fucking you into the mattress at least three times a week, he was still tense as he took you. On edge, knowing he was unguarded from your mutation. It wasn’t that the sex was bad. It was some of the best sex you’d ever had. But you could feel it, whether you wanted to or not. His anxiety. Curled up like a viper behind a bush, hiding just beneath his pleasure. Never fully letting go. 

He didn’t even hold it against you, anymore. Your mutation. Knew how it felt to be hated for something you couldn’t control. Maybe that’s what had drawn him to you in the first place.

But when your nails scraped down the side of his bicep, barely even hard enough to leave a mark, you felt the rumble of his moan, deep in your chest. Couldn’t feel that viper anymore, lurking just below the surface. Like it was carried away in the beak of a hawk as you marked him. He begged. 

“More.” 

You shuddered. In control, after that. Flipping your position so he was on his back, body pliant beneath yours as you rode him. Your breath was hot against his ear when you leaned down, bare tits tender where they pressed against his chest, to whisper. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Gonna let go?” 

Nobody would believe how his masculine bravado fell as he let you take control. From the outside, he seemed like the dominating personality in your relationship— undefined as it was. How his hand would reach in front of you protectively during missions, how he would bristle with a clenched fist if anybody talked a little too much shit during an exercise in the Danger Room. They didn’t notice how you could dismiss him with a nod of your head, how he would immediately back down from a fight if you told him to drop it. Like a dog with a bone. 

That’s the thing about Logan. He is protective like a guard dog is protective. And he is submissive like a guard dog is submissive. Oh, you so enjoy training him. 

And much as you tried to teach him to meditate over months since he arrived, empty his mind more conventionally, it never quite worked for him. But when he’s beneath you, eyes glazed over as you bounce up and down on his cock, and you can’t sense a single thing from his pretty little head? You know you’ve done your job well. Given him what he needs. 

“Such a good boy, making me feel so nice,” you croon, in the moment again. He sat on the floor between your legs, eyes desperate and wanting when you thrust your hips up in the air just a little bit. Teasing him with the movement, more than yourself. Your hand is still tangled in his hair as he tries to lean forward to bury his face in your cunt again. 

“Stay,” your voice is hard, careful that you don’t betray the fluttering in your belly at how badly he needs you. “I thought you were a good boy, but good boys follow orders.” You pout, mocking him. 

“’M sorry, baby, just wanna make you feel good,” he pants, eyes 

glistening in the dim light of the waning sun. Golden leaves rustling just outside the window. “Wanna make you come.” 

You smile, maybe a little meanly, your free hand squeezing his cheeks together. The other uses its grip in his hair to pull his head back farther, exposing the sweet column of his neck to your greedy eyes. He looks so pretty like this. If he hadn’t been so naughty, you would’ve told him as much. Instead, harsher words leave your lips. 

“Already so pussy drunk you forgot your rules, kitty cat?” You let your hand loosen its grip on his hair, the other still pressing into either cheek, forcing his gaze to yours. “You will make me come when I let you, hm? Can you handle that, darling, or do we need to stop?” The pet name is saccharine sweet on your tongue, mock sympathy dripping from your voice. 

“No ma’am,” he croaks out— words muffled by your grip on his face. You finally let go, comforter plush against your skin as you lean back on your elbows. Nothing but the weight of your gaze keeps him frozen in place beneath you. You wait for him to continue, expectantly. 

“Don’t need’ta stop,” he pants. “Just need you.” 

You love how the words fall from his lips. How he lets them. Tracing his jaw tenderly, the soft touch so at odds with the mean glint in your eye. So at odds with the swell of your heart, knowing he can let go with you. 

“I know you do, baby.” Your thumb strokes his bottom lip, “Now ask nicely.” 

“Please.” The way he begs has your core throbbing, the heat of your desire spreading down each limb like a flame. You almost give in. Almost. 

But you can’t have him getting spoiled. 

He knows he’s fucked when one side of your mouth lifts in a cruel smirk. You lean down so your lips brush against his ear. “I’ll let you lick my pussy clean after you fill it. If you’re good.” 

He whines; the sound a desperate thing. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” you guide as you tease your fingers at your entrance. Soaked, from your slick and from Logan’s mouth. Your first finger slides in easily, as Logan’s hand grips at his cock. He sighs at the stimulation, the relief, though you know he’d rather his face be buried between your legs. His tip is flushed, weeping. He ruts into his fist as your finger begins to move within you. Already so slick that you make room for a second. 

Sparks light up inside your belly, already sensitive from Logan’s work, but your touch is nothing compared to his. Your fingers are smaller, not reaching nearly as deep as his would, when you curl them. But you savor the control— as you fuck yourself on the bed and Logan touches himself on the floor. Almost feral for you. 

Locks of hair pulled from their little tufts where you mussed them, falling in front of his eyes. A bead of sweat glistens on his brow, before sliding down his cheek. His lips part; the sounds of his desire falling from them. Sweeter than any melody. 

And your mutation? Couldn’t sense a damn thing. So blissed out that his mind went blank. Letting each sensation roll over his body like a wave against the sandy shore. 

That’s the toughest part about this. Seeing him like this and maintaining your resolve, composure, control. To tease him instead of fucking him like an animal. And you will— fuck him like an animal. He just has to work for it first. 

You spread your legs a little wider, pumping your fingers in and out. Using your thumb to circle your clit. Teasing Logan with what you wouldn’t let him taste. Yet. You draw out his little torture, watching you get yourself off, so close that your heady desire is all he can smell. Climbing closer and closer to the peak of your pleasure, eyes hooded as they meet Logan’s, letting the sounds of his panting fill the air until you finally come undone. Feeling terribly vulgar as your walls pulse around your fingers. Growing even slicker, then. 

“Stop now, little prince.” 

Logan stops moving like he is bound to your will. You smile. He doesn’t even talk back when you call him little. Four hundred pounds of muscle and adamantium wrapped around your finger. You bring your hand, wet with your arousal, to meet his lips. 

“Open up.”

Logan lets his jaw slacken, his tongue jutting just above his lower lip to taste what you give him. You hum, as your fingers slide into his mouth and he hollows out his cheeks to suck. Your other hand moves to play with his hair, gentler now than it was before. 

“Such a good boy for me, aren’t you?” 

You think that the noise Logan makes is in affirmation. Your fingers remain between his closed lips. 

“Gonna make you come now, baby.” 

Logan bites back a moan, glossy eyes wild with need. 

Fingers slip loose with a slick pop as you guide him up to the bed. You finally let your dress pool on the floor around your feet. Logan sits back against the headboard, flushed cock at attention. You climb atop him, hard muscles so at odds with his lolling head and hooded eyes. Feeling his length press against your belly as you admire the view. Such a pretty thing, sprawled out on your bed, waiting for you with a leaking cock. 

“So needy. Need me to fuck you good, baby?” You ghost a touch across his sweat-slick forehead. “Need me to fuck all the thoughts out of this pretty little head?” 

He nods. But no words escape his lips. You angle your head to the side, patient. 

His voice is rough with desire as he croaks, “Yes, ma’am. Please.”

You feign confusion.  “Please what, sweetheart?” 

Swallowing his pride. “Fuck me, baby. Please” 

You line up above him, palms resting on his toned chest, thick length prodding at your entrance. 

“Mmm, only because you asked so nicely.” 

You sink down on him in a quick, brutal thrust that steals your breath— his cock brushing that perfect spot your fingers couldn’t quite reach. Your mouth finds his neck, where your teeth nip and lips soothe. Inhaling his scent— cigar smoke and whiskey mingle with the musk of his sweat. Undertones of cedar from his shampoo as vanilla wafts from your candles. Your hips remain still, his tip nearly brushing your cervix, savoring the slick, sweet stretch. Logan lets out something between a growl and a whimper when you clench your walls around him, teasing. 

His desperation finally spurs you on, lighting a sweet fire in your core. Angling your hips up before sinking down again. And again. Slow, at first. You let yourself enjoy his thick length dragging along your walls, stimulating that spongy spot that makes you see stars. 

“Y’fill me up so good, baby.” 

Logan’s muscles tense beneath you, eyes squeezed shut as he fights the urge to move his hips. Aching to meet you as you slowly pump, to rut up into you hard and fast. You click your tongue in admonishment as his eyebrows knit together. 

“Eyes on me, sweet thing.” 

His lips move, searching for his words, but all that comes out is a garbled moan. His hazel gaze meets your own, brow heavy with the effort you know it takes to follow your rules. Your mutation still can’t sense anything from him. The strain purely physical, as his mind floats through the bliss of your command. Your chest grows heavy with the trust that Logan has given to you so freely. 

“So good for me, Logan. So good,” you purr. 

Finally, you pick up the pace. Raising up before gravity brings you back down, hard. Logan sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, eyes rolling back in his head. Quickly darting them back to your face. Tender flesh gripping him to the hilt, before lifting yourself again. A few thrusts like that, as the impact of your ass on his hips fills the room. If it hurts at all, you know he’ll savor it. 

You think fucking like this might break another man’s hips. There are benefits to having a lover made of adamantium. You can play hard, and never break him. He always has his safe word, if it becomes too much. 

Changing your pace again, more for your benefit than for Logan’s. One hand tangles in his hair, pulling. Your arm rests by his head, face hovering just above his. Each of his pants ghost across your lips. Thrusting quicker now, as you rock your hips up and down. Gaze locked on his. The sound of the leaves rustling against the window is drowned out by the bed frame squeaking. 

His velvety length dragging against your sensitive walls brings you closer to the edge of your release— his tip brushes right where you need it with each thrust as he splits you open. The burning tension coils tight, tight, tight in your belly; until you can’t stand it anymore. 

“Lo, fuck, t— touch me,” the command comes out breathier than you intended. But Logan obeys just the same. His hand moves between your bodies, fingers circling your swollen clit as expertly as your own. 

Molten heat races through your body as you tumble over the edge. Waves of warm pleasure sweep you away, Logan’s palm resting against your tummy. You can feel your walls flutter around his cock, rolling your hips as you come down from your high, lips ghosting against his ear. 

“Come for me, Logan.” 

He moves up to meet your thrusts, then. The pressure verges on overstimulation as his cock plunges deep inside. But you savor it, savor giving him exactly what he needs. 

“That’s it, baby. That’s it.” 

Your grip on his hair weakens to a caress as he spills inside you. You still your hips, letting Logan fuck you through his climax. Once he stops moving, your bodies go limp, enjoying this moment of closeness. The way his skin sticks to yours, damp with sweat. The sound of his heartbeat. The rise and fall of his chest. He lets out a contented sigh, and you finally roll off of him. You enjoy the softness of the mattress against your back for a moment. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you finally spread your legs— making room for Logan to settle between them. 

“C’mere, baby. You know I’m not done with you yet.” 

Logan grins, wasting no time as he positions himself between your thighs. There is a mischievous little glint in his eye, face hovering above your cunt. 

“Finally somethin’ to eat. Had me starvin’ down there, baby.”

Bratty little shit. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you then, rolling your eyes. 

“You talking back to me, bub?” You grab him by the chin, digging in your fingernails hard enough to leave little red crescents in his skin. But there’s a smile on your face and mirth in your voice. 

“No ma’am.” His chin angles down, looking up at you with hooded eyes. His smirk is devilish as he bats his eyelashes. Fucking bats his eyelashes. You don’t think anybody would believe that the Wolverine packs a mean doe-eye. 

Shaking your head in disbelief, the ghost of a smile on your lips, your hold keeps his greedy mouth just beyond his treasure. 

“You wanna rethink your tone, kitty cat?” Head angled, as you watch him through what you hope are stern eyes. You try to add a hard edge to your voice, but he’s so damn cute. 

It seems to work. His smirk melts away, and only hunger remains, desperate and glossy-eyed. “Yes ma’am. ‘M sorry.” 

Victory is sweet on your tongue, at his concession. The heady weight of control in your palms. Electricity snakes down your spine, each pant of his breath teasing you between your thighs. 

“That’s it, baby. I forgive you.” You pout at him, mocking. Maybe you’re a sore winner. You can’t help it when he’s so needy for a taste of himself on your pussy. “Now be a good boy and clean up your mess.” 

As soon as you loosen your grip on his chin, he buries himself between your legs. Stroking the flat of his tongue from your weepy slit to your swollen nub. Licking and sucking at your puffy folds, swallowing the mix of your slick and his milky spend like it’s the only meal he’s had in weeks. The squelch of him lapping at you and you moaning his name are all that fill your ears. You toy with the hair at the base of his neck, the roughness of his beard against your thighs making you shiver. 

“F-fuck— Lo, baby,” a lewd whimper escapes you, breath stuttering. “You wanna make me come?” 

He somehow buries himself even deeper between your legs, then. Nose pressing against your clit just right, as he devours you. Fucking you with his tongue, before moving up to lick quick circles around the bundle of nerves.

“That’s it, Logan— fuck!” 

Words are lost to you, for a moment. Taken by the pleasure swelling in your belly as he slides a finger inside. Pressure builds in your abdomen when it curls against that sweet spot. You grind against him, eyes closed and mouth agape. 

“Know you can do it, baby,” you pant, spurring him on. Logan adds a second digit, bending to hit the spongy flesh. “So good for me, so—” you are interrupted again, choking out a sob as your core tightens with your impending release. 

Logan brings his lips to your slit, fingers still moving inside. His mouth falls open, ready to drink down your essence when the dam within you finally bursts. The pressure behind your navel gives way to warm wetness between your legs. You fall apart on Logan’s thick fingers, throbbing while he swallows the mix of your come and his. 

His fingers slide out of you, suddenly empty, and the milky ring around them could be his spend or yours. Hopefully both. Bringing them to his mouth, before he licks them clean. He goes limp when you finally relax onto the bed, his head resting against your tummy. His legs must be hanging off the bed comically, but you can’t bring yourself to lift your head and check. You choose to ignore the wet spot beneath your ass. The remnants of your climax and Logan’s inevitable drooling as he ate you out. Something to worry about later. 

For now, your fingers find their way to Logan’s scalp once again, touch featherlight and tender. You can’t help it when he sighs like that beneath your touch. If you had it your way, your hand would never leave its place here. Holding him to you, gently claiming him as yours. 

Your mutation is quiet, still, in the afterglow. At peace. And so is Logan. Head still floating in the clouds, blissed out and dazed. Somewhere nobody can reach except the two of you. As much as he needs this, the way you give him respite even sleep never offers, you need it too. The silence, after. As you lay with him, in tenderness. 

You’re struck with a sudden truth. Not sure how you’d overlooked it, all this time. A low whisper, as the sun finally rests beneath the horizon. Flickering candlelight and the faint fluorescent glow creeping beneath the bedroom door. The aged wood all that separates your little world from the rest of the mansion. If you weren’t so focused on that strange heaviness in your chest, you would have the presence of mind to hope nobody heard the two of you. 

“I love you, Lo.” 

Breath held in your lungs, as you wait. Just a beat, before he answers. 

“Love you too.” His palm rests on your waist, rubbing tender circles. His face nuzzles a little closer into your belly. “My baby. My girl.” 

The stinging behind your eyes catches you off guard. But, so do his words. You feel the truth in them. You never thought you’d have this with someone. Never thought anybody would trust you. An interloper. An unwelcome visitor, eavesdropping on the devotion of strangers, destined to feel their love for each other. But never for you. It was never going to be for you. 

But you feel it, now. Yours. Unsure why it hadn’t cross your mind before. 

Like a wolf, when you met. Wild, feral. Lashing out to bite any hand that got too close. Tamed, with your compassion. Firm as it was. You always thought he was like a guard dog. Faithful. Trusting. Once you’d earned it. Of course he would love you like one. 

You felt heat creep up your ears, at the thought of getting him a collar, stifling a laugh in the crook of your elbow. 

His hum vibrates against your torso. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, baby. Think I just need some psychological help.” The words are muffled against your arm. 

Logan is still packing plenty of sass, even in his fucked out state.

“That’a surprise?” He looks up at you, a single eyebrow arched. You can’t help but laugh. Smiling, as you rebuke. 

“Asshole.”

a/n: aaah thank you for reading!! i'm nervous about this one, if you liked it please let me know!! 🫣

dividers by saradika-graphics

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Pity Party.

Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

"You're back early."

Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.

"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.

"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.

"You wouldn't even believe."

He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.

Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You think for a moment before replying.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.

"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."

He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.

"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"

"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.

"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"

"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."

He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.

"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."

"I'll hold you to that."

You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.

"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."

"And then?"

"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."

He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Tell me more."

"You really want to hear about all of this?"

It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.

"Of course I do."

His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.

"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."

Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.

"What the fuck?"

You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.

"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"

"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."

Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.

All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.

"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."

Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.

"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."

You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.

"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."

Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

"Wh-... what?" you choke out.

"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."

His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.

"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.

Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.

"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."

His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.

"Okay."

He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."

"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."

"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."

He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.

"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.

"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"

You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.

"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."

"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."

He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.

"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."

"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.

Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.

Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.

"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.

Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.

"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.

You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.

"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."

He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.

"Give me a color, pretty girl."

You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.

"Green, Carmen. Promise."

You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.

You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.

"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."

"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.

He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.

"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."

Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.

Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.

"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."

His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.

Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.

"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."

With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.

"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"

You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.

Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.

After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.

"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"

You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.

Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.

He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.

"Doin' so good for me."

"You got it, honey, that's it."

"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."

"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."

"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."

All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.

"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."

You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.

"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"

The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.

"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."

"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.

"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."

You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.

"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."

Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.

Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.

"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.

"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.

You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.

"I know you didn't mean it."

"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"

"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."

You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.

You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.

"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."

"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.

"Come on, trouble."

He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.

The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.

[bloggerspam]

Cozytober: Wrapped in a soft fuzzy blanket

Dan isn't sure what he's doing here.

He sits, squished into the smallest pink chair imaginable, holding a tea cup barely the size of his pinky and wonders—not for the first time—why him.

He's reformed! He has his family back (with bonus new ones, in Ellie and Danny himself), and is trying his damnedest to be the best of both his donor's parts! He rescues kittens now!

So why?

"More tea, Mr. Dante?" A squeaky, pleasant voice asks politely.

Internally, Dan sighs. He knows why.

"Sure." Dan rumbles, low, so as to keep from intimidating her. It's a moot point, considering you were immediately invited to this tea part upon first glance.

"Lovely!" The girl, Lian, beams brightly at him, causing him to squint at how bright she looks. She reaches over with her purple teapot, decorated with superhero stickers all over it, and mimics pouring tea into his Red Hood themed tea cup.

Dan didn't even know Red Hood had merch, much less a children's tea set.

She watches him expectantly, so he takes a sip.

"Mm." He smiles, tightlipped to keep his fangs away, "Tasty."

Again, that blinding beam. Dan wonders, distantly, if the reason he can still see is because of his healing factor.

"Lian! Lian, honey, it's time to—" A voice echoes, causing Dan to stiffen.

A man enters through the open doorway, pausing at the scene they must make.

"Hi Daddy!" Lian chirps, "Mr. Dante stopped some bad guys from hurting Mrs. Stoner, and he said he knew the Justice League, so I invited him to my Tea Party to thank him!"

"Is that so?" Her father, with a frozen smile, turns slowly to Dan and quirks a single burnt orange eyebrow. Thankfully, he doesn't seem mad at Dan's presence, more surprised and…amused, judging by the taste in the air. His quirked lips seem to ask him why Dan didn't refuse.

"I've been told," Dan says as softly as he can, "that it would be uncouth for a…gentlemen to refuse a lady's request."

The part of Dan that's Vlad, the part of Dan that Ellie and Jazz influenced, had reminded him.

The part of him that's still Danny, that's still a sucker for little children and his sisters, had taken control and his acceptance had been given before he even knew it.

This is why he is here. Because he is, in Ellie's words, a god damn marshmallow softie.

"Fair enough." Lian's father chuckles with a tilt to his head, "Hard to say no to Lian anyway."

Lian's grin turns a little sharp, the way Ellie's does, knowing and mischievous.

"I've also been told that it's rude to overstay my welcome." Dan places the tea cup down gently, still trying to figure out how to be soft, and contemplates the logistics of getting up.

"But Mr. Dante, you haven't even finished your scones!" The scones in question sit innocently, masquerading as pumpkin spice flavored Oreos. Dan chuckles, and delicately pinches one to toss into his mouth. He gives up on unfolding his limbs around the tiny furniture and simply goes intangible, floating up to stand.

"Lian, I'm sure Mr. Dante's got other stuff to do sweetheart. Besides, it's dinner time for you."

Lian pouts, but seems to acquiesce with a pout before smiling up at him again. "Thank you for coming to my Tea Party Mr. Dante!"

"Thank you for having me, Little Miss." Dan rumbles, floating up and ready to leave.

"Wait!" Lian jumps up, running towards her closet and dragging out a searingly bright orange cloth. Its got little arrows all over it, and is three times her size. She holds it up to him, reaching on her tippy toes, so Dan touches back down and crouches.

"You need a cape, since you're a hero!" Lian explains, "Some heroes don't wear capes, but I think a proper gentleman like you should have a cape!"

She does her best, jumping around and fumbling over him to drape the blanket over his shoulders. Her father, from the corner of Dan's eye, is trying not to bust up laughing. She tries once, twice, three times to tie it around his neck, and he takes pity on her and ties it on himself. He feels ridiculous.

It's less of a cape and more of a bundling. He's half wrapped up and if he didn't have the ability to fly and go intangible, he's sure he would have been tumbling around and stuck.

Thankfully, he does have those abilities, so he floats up to get that all sorted.

"Just like Superman." The Father chuckles, barely able to string it together through his laughed. Dan smiles a wry smile, doing a Superman Pose just to see Lian light up and giggle.

"See ya later, alligator!" Lian chirps, waving goodbye.

And then the part of him that's still Danny rears up again, without his permission, as he floats through the ceiling.

"In a while, crocodile."

[solelifauna]

When you say the love interest might be worse, does that mean "being mean to reader" wise or "being possessive over the reader" wise?

ERMMM...both I'd say. The love interest for the Werewolf AU is Jon Kent. He's about the same age as the reader and older than Damian by one year (From the time-skip space mission that he went on that aged him). But bro, this boy is fucking nuts.

Yes, Kryptonians aren't werewolves in this universe, but Lois Lane is. And a strong one at that, coming from a military family and all that jazz. So Jon Lane Kent is literally one of the strongest beings on earth, being half-kryptonian and half-werewolf.

Now i know what youre thinking.

But wouldn't Jon also be outcasted from werewolf society/wouldn't the bats not like him cause he's a half-blood?

WRONG!!! Yes, Jon is a half-blooded werewolf, but the other half is Kryptonian, one of the strongest species in the universe. If anything, his breeding makes him a very respected figure and the Bats definitely find him worthy. He and Damian are still the best of friends.

Now Jon's relationship with (Y/n). Yikes. Funnily enough, it was (Y/n) who started crushing on Jon first. She'd see him around the manor often, and she'd watch as he interacted with the Waynes or messed around with Damian. From what she could see, he seemed nicer than her family, so maybe she could be friends with him right? Plus, he's super cute!

And of course, this doesn't end well. I mean, this is a dark au. First off, Superman doesn't quite see humans as equals. Werewolves, they have his respect, and all the other races too. Yes, Clark Kent's adoptive parents were humans, and yes he loved them, but they were weak. Fragile even. And he made sure to instill that teaching in Jon as well.

Did Jon love his grandparents? Absolutely, but that meant that Ma and Pa stayed confined to Smallville and their house. They were too weak, they needed to be protected.

Lois also helped push Werewolf culture onto him as well. Weaker werewolves and humans were subservient to the stronger, and if necessary, could be killed and eaten. Jon didn't quite get the eating part, finding it quite gross actually, until he had his first taste of flesh. And, yikes, the boy was hooked.

In his mind, humans were either things to be taken care of (like pets) or food.

What's even more scary is that he's sweet around his family and friends, but those he deems as lesser? Well, let's just hope you don't catch him in a bad mood or piss him off. Which is why when weak, pitiful, abandoned (Y/n) Wayne comes up to him, he's insulted.

Why on earth did you even think you were worthy of talking to him?

Yes, he's seen you watching them, lurking around the manor, keeping your distance. It was quite annoying actually, he could practically hear your heart leaping out of its chest every time you saw him. He knew your intentions, trying to make friends with him.

He just looked down at you, eyes pooling with something nobody could explain, whilst you smiled at him and made small talk. Or tried to make small talk.

"Damian, should I snap her neck? Or is your family still insistent on the old laws?" Jon says.

You freeze, eyes widening in fear. Ah...you've made a severe lapse in judgment.

So much for a new friend.

"You know what? How 'bout I just go?" You quip nervously before trying to run off.

It's too bad Damian grabs you by the back of your shirt, basically choking you in the process. You let out a strangled noise as your body loses balance and lurches backward. When Damian lets go, your having a mad coughing fit, trying to get as much air as you could into your lungs.

Damian only makes an annoyed sound while Jon watches, a sick type of glee in his eyes. "When the time comes friend, you may feast with us. Now (Y/n), apologize to Jon."

You do not even have to think twice about that. "I'm sorry-I'm sorry! I shouldn't have approached you, I'm sorry." And at this point, you're crying. (reader is 14 when this happens)

And god doesn't that make Jon smile. He wouldn't deny, that you were pretty (I mean, you do have half of Bruce Wayne's DNA). But as much as he'd consider coveting you, you weren't worth that honor, no, he'd much rather taste your sweet, sweet flesh. (He could practically smell it wafting off you).

But alas, he'd have to wait.

But of course, in normal yandere fashion, he goes from wanting to eat you to wanting to eat you. The obsession starts to change around (Y/n)'s 16th birthday party that the Waynes throw. It's customary that all children do some public ball or whatever, so this was yours. Jon and his family are there obviously, and you're there as well, looking as miserable and tired as usual (and still somehow being the most beautiful thing in the building). However, he sees you light up in a way he's never seen you do before when your (what he's guessing) friends show up. They're human. They're weak, like you.

Seeing you interact with them, hearing you talk normally(super-hearing, duh) without fear, watching the way you laughed...He realizes he wants. And he wants bad.

Looks like you've got a new problem now.

Anyways, this is all I got!! I don't want to spoil the story more than I already have, but yeah, say hello to "absolutely bonkers Jon Kent". Hope you enjoyed!!!

[pepperyduck]

warnings: nsfw (18+ mdni), scummy mean bad boyfriend gojo, dubcon (kinda), dacryphylia, p in v, unprotected sex, finishing inside without permission, really nasty stuff, female reader.

"aww, don't look so sad," gojo coos, a cocky grin plastered on his face that you wanted to slap off oh-so-badly. but with the current position you were in, the strength you needed for that had been wiped away hours ago.

gojo had been harshly fucking into you for what felt like days, gyrations of his hips not missing a beat, all the while barely breaking a sweat.

your clothes were discarded in front of his door, now laid fully naked in front of him, legs unable to close from the swift motion of his pelvis banging into you at full speed. wrists pinned down next to your sides, unable to fight the light-haired man on anything he did, all you could do was lay there and take it.

fat tears roll dramatically down your cheeks, begging him to stop the relentless pounding, because at this point, your mind is too fuzzy and far gone to formulate words. you loathed the way he confidently stood over you, sunglasses barely making their way down his nose, shirt only halfway unbuttoned and slacks pulled down enough to get what he wanted.

"how does it feel, baby?" gojo taunts, "now, don't cry." your boyfriend fakes pity as he lets go of one of your wrists to bring a thumb up to your face. he sweetly wipes a tear away as you turn your arm to hold onto the sheets for dear life, because you were sure it'd be taken out of you by the end of the night.

"hurts, 'toru," you quaver, earning a sharp thrust that pierces your cervix. gojo only smiles wider when you clench around him tighter, holding your face, continuing to dry your constant tears that rolled out your left eye.

he's so mean.

and to get even meaner, he releases your other wrist, and quickly hooks both of his arms behind your knees to press them into your chest, folding you in half. he releases a guttural moan at the new angle, your walls tensing up again, this time permanently. he fastens his pace, the sound of skin slapping becoming even louder.

"god, i'm so close," he groans, "let me fill you up, c'mon," gojo eggs you on. your eyes widen and you immediately begin to push on his chest, to no avail. he doesn't let up. he won't let up.

"no- please!" you frailly shout, attempts to knock him away useless. "don't!" you cry, words landing into deaf ears.

"aww, c'mon!" he pleads, "just this once, baby, please?" he sounds so confident and desperate all in the same, rutting into you deeper and deeper.

"you said you wouldn't 'toru!" you wail, hands pushing against the fabric of his button down, fingers practically tearing into the cloth. another thrust sends a wave of pain through your body, "it hurts!"

gojo's length continues the assault on your insides, barely giving time between pulling out and bullying its way back inside, hitting you so nastily. your boyfriend simply doesn't care how much you cry.

"sorry, baby," gojo purrs, "you know i can't help myself."

[kissesbyliz]

simon having beef with your dog.

the thing hates him, he's sure. he's been aware of the fact ever since the first time it jumped up at him, indulging itself with a nice helping of his brand new jeans.

"oh my god!" you gaped at his jeans with horror, immediately scooping the offending animal into your arms. even within its confines, the creature still manages a growl that simon swears is nothing less than evil.

between the sweet apologizes falling from your lips and the way your eyes widened in embarrassment, simon unsurprisingly found it difficult to stay mad. after fixing him a change of clothes and apologizing profusely for your pet's behavior, you urged your pet into its play pen to prevent her from ruining the rest of the night. she stared up at you with wide eyes, letting out a pitiful whine as she was obviously not used to being locked up.

though the inner dog-lover in him should be feeling a twinge of guilt at the sight, simon couldn't deny a sense of victory.

at least now, they were even.

they used to be even. used to. his score was ultimately decimated after countless incidents of your dog peeing all over his boots, stealing his food, and gnawing it's way through the souvenirs he brought for you from missions.

why the thing hates him so much is beyond him. ever since the first incident, he's tried every bribery method under the sun. from endless treats to long walks in her favorite park, all his attempts ended the same way: with his hand being damn near ripped off his arm.

after weeks of no progress, you had brought up the idea of meeting at his place instead. simon refused. he couldn't handle the thought of you traveling the hour it takes to get to his apartment, just to see him. after all, if he could handle countless hordes of enemies and disarm bombs, he sure as hell could handle some dog.

which of course, brings him to his current predicament.

after a particularly long deployment, you've taken the liberty of planning a special welcome home dinner for him and his task force. nothing big, just a small gathering to celebrate a reunion between friends as well as a job well done.

you insisted on doing all the work of preparing the food and letting him relax on the couch. it was a dinner in celebration of him as well, after all. the very last thing simon wanted was to leave you to do all the work, but if he was going to do anything about your dog, he had to do it now.

because even though he'd call his task force some of the closest friends he has, he pales at the idea of them finding out that a dog has him beat. he can already imagine how they'll react: a (horribly) stifled laugh from price, a smart jab from gaz, and an unashamed guffaw from johnny. and of course, the endless amounts of taunting that'll be flowing throughout the base. yeah, that's not going to happen. least of all, in front of his girl.

he approaches the play pen which houses your dog slowly, attempting to seem as unintimidating as he can for someone of his stature. your pet immediately takes notice--has had an eye laser pointed on him since the moment he arrived--and starts up a low growl.

"hey..girl..." he greets awkwardly, crouching down in a manner that allows his every action to be observed. it's evident that your dog couldn't be less happy with his presence, with the way she moves to the opposite end of the enclosure. he sighs, dropping onto the floor next to the pen and wincing at the slight pain shooting up his tailbone.

"why d'ya hate me so much, huh?" your dog huffed, closing her eyes and assuming a sleeping position. simon didn't even know dogs were capable of the silent treatment. unfazed, he pushes on, speaking to the dog as if it miraculously developed the ability to understand him.

"all i wanna do is spend time with my girl, and all you do is try to make me look like the bad guy." he shoots her an unimpressed look. "it's not like i'm gonna take her away, y'know."

to simon's surprise, the dog rises and begins to slowly approach him and for once, without utter disdain in her eyes. simon really didn't expect that to work, but he supposes he doesn't have any room to complain. he gulps -- he's never made it this far before. carefully, he raises a big hand up to stroke over the dog's soft fur.

in a flash, the canine snaps her teeth onto the surface of his skin. hard.

"fuck--!" he snarls, snatching his hand away. at that moment, the doorbell rings and he cradles his aching hand to his chest. he stands up, glaring hard at the animal as he goes to answer the door.

"hey, there's my favorite girl!" johnny pushes past him and beelines for the play pen, where your dog is excitedly standing on its hind legs to greet him. simon's never seen her tail wag so fast. she eagerly yips for him to come closer, bowing to allow him to scratch behind her ears.

"oh, and hey to you too, i guess." johnny briefly nods in acknowledgement in your direction. you playfully roll your eyes, giggling at his display.

"simon. 's good to see you." price offers a brief nod, and kyle pats him on the shoulder before they both walk around him to join johnny at the play pen. the dog takes to the rest of his team just as easily, greeting them all with tail wags and licks to the hand.

simon riley is at a loss.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do a small request? I was thinking of platonic Yandere Dick and batsib where batsib is getting harassed(hope I spelled it right) at school or online but can’t find Jason or the others so finally gives in and asks Dick for help on how to handle the situation?

A/N: Yes, ofc! Thank you for requesting. I was originally never going to post the og headcanon because i thought people wouldn't like a darker take on him. I'm so happy you guys do. its actually dick just cyber bullying you into coming to him loll

Warnings: concepts of online harrassment, but it's mainly fluff.

Requests: open 24/7

Masterlist

"Sweetie, don't cry. Tell your big brother what happened, okay?" Dick's voice cooed as he used his thumb to gently wipe away your tears.

This wasn't a position you imagine yourself to be in. You never figured you'd be coming to Dick for anything. Ever. Let alone comfort. For the past few months of being in Wayne's house, you've avoided your older brother like the plague. There wasn't any circumstance you wanted to be around him, you didn't particularly like him for your own reasons. Jason was the one you found the most comfort in. He made you feel safe and at ease unlike Dick.

But Jason wasn't here right now. He and the others were taking their shift on patrol and they wouldn't be back at least until the sun rose. Dick was the only one home and available to help with the situation at hand.

~~~~

You had recently started up a social media account with much persuasion from your sibling, Barbra. It was just supposed to be something wholesome to better connect with the other siblings as it was a frequency they used. You weren't too fond of the whole thing, it was slightly anxiety inducing but you agreed to make them happy. They felt bad about sharing so many family photos without you being as they were all proud to show you off.

Unexpectedly, you kind of got into it. You started spending quite a few hours scrolling posts and sharing videos to your siblings, even deciding to make a few of your own...not thinking much of it.

It was great and all of the feedback was positive, mainly being from your sibling or school friends. It was a fun and rather safe escape for you to enjoy on your downtime.

That was until you finally decided to check your laptop after a few days away. To your surprise, lots of new notifications flooded your inbox. Maybe your post went viral or something, you excitedly thought to yourself.

The excitement quickly died down after reading through every comment and message you received during your hiatus. Copious amounts of vile content flooded your eyes. Most of them attacked your appearance or the fact you were 'just another pitiful orphan'. But nothing disturbed you like the dm you received that was filled with death threats and altered photos of you.

Mixed feelings of terror, anxiety and sadness overtook your body. You were never one to cry much but this, this did something to you. The only thing you wanted was to be held. Your safe space was ripped from you and turned into a heinous landfill, you felt so violated. You knew that person was only behind a screen but what if they were coming for you? What if it was an enemy of your family? You weren't nearly as trained or half as capable as your siblings and this person probably knew that. What if they're not around and that person captures you..

You didn't want to die. You didn't want to be their target….

~~~~~

You could sense the blood boiling beneath Grayson's skin as told him all that happened. For once in your life you seen his smile drop and his eyes growing dark., his sky blue eyes were nearly a deep black. He couldn't stop the fury from seeping into his vein as he thought about all the ways to get his revenge on the person who made you like this.

He never wanted to see his baby sister in this state, he didn't like that you couldn't enjoy yourself. He felt so guilty, this was his fault. He gave the green light to Babs about the social media thing when she brought it up to him. How could he be so stupid? Why didn't he think about the possibility of something like this?

It was supposed to be something to get you out of your shell and closer with them, not a breeding ground for degenerate fuckers like that.

He was silent for a while, entrapped in his own mind and anger before you tugged on his shirt.

"..Dick, please help me. I'm so scared. I really don't want to die. What am i going to do?" Your words were almost inaudible as you choked over them. The few lone tears turned into a heavy stream. You needed him to make this all go away. It was too much for you to handle alone.

Your plea for his help snapped him out of his thoughts. Dick's heart nearly crumbling at the cracks in your voice. He loved you so much and making sure you knew you were safe was the most important thing. The plotting could wait, there was plenty of time to take care of them. Softening his face, he flashed you his pretty smile, and took your hands in his.

"Do you think your older brother, Dick, would ever let them come through these doors and hurt you?"

You shook your head and rubbed at your puffy, red eyes.

"My sweet birdie. You have to know as long as i'm living, you'll be safe."

Dick hesitantly opened his arms out for a hug, not sure if you'd be willing to accept it this time. To his surprise, you did. Practically throwing yourself into his embrace, you wrapped you arms around his neck and sobbing in the crook of his neck.

You tightly held onto him as you nuzzled your head as deeper into it. Maybe you were wrong in your judgement of him?,,,or maybe it was the heat of the moment, but something about this was actually…nice. You never had a hug that felt as warm and protecting as this was now. There was just something so precious about the he handled you with so much care. It was as if you were made out of some kind of delicate material.

A feeling of regret rushed your body as you thought back to all the times you avoided and othered him. Was this what you were missing all those times?

You could've been getting love like this but you willingly rejected it all. Stupid.

"...I'm sorry,,,"

A curious hum left his voice as he wondered what you could be referring to. None of this was your fault nor was coming to him any sort of burden.

",,,for y'know.”

You could feel his head gently tilt to the side as he was still confused as to what you meant.

“I've been a bad sister to you, dick. I’m so sorry.” Your shaky voice was pitched high as you fought against your tears.

Shaking his head, he rubbed circles on your back.

Richard held his own breath for a moment, processing the words you just said. It was almost unbelievable to hear those words escaping from your mouth. Almost as unbelievable for you to finally be in his arms like this, at your most vulnerable. A fuzziness started in the depths of his stomach and exploded his body in bliss.

This was a long awaited feeling he so desperately had been craving. At that moment, all of his patience was worth it. All he ever wanted was to be your safety net, your best friend and he’s finally getting it. He wanted you to hug him like this forever. He wanted you to be safe right here in his arms. This was everything he could ask for.

Pay offs like this confirms he chose right in prioritizing his family over everything. His tendencies weren’t indeed crazy but necessary. He’s the backbone of the bats.

Dick’s muscular arms tightening in their embrace, gave you a nice squeeze.

"If you were a bad sister, i wouldn't love you as much as i do. The world doesn't deserve an angel like you, neither do i."

Dick breaks the hug and puts your hands in his once more. A soft kiss is planted on your forehead and there's a beat that passes as he's observing you. His smile is wider than ever. To him, you're the most perfect sibling he could ever ask for.

"I'll do whatever it takes, even bending a few rules, if that means you can sleep peacefully. I’m your nightwing."

[banj0possum]

Yoooo, what are you waiting for it's gangussy time 😡😡 😡😡😡😡

(This is a joke please please please take care of yourself first for the love of whoever is up there don't overwork yourself 🙏 )

Utmost Loyalty

Yan!Gang x GN Reader

no warnings that i know of, theyre just really really stupid

🐉 The grocery you usually go to was closed early for the day, poor you had to walk the 2 miles to the nearest store in order to buy the stuff you needed for the week.

🐉 Living alone was hard work. You worked an exhausting 9 to 5 job that barely provided for your tiny apartment and pet (and your endless merch of your favorite franchise)

🐉 You were already tired from working today, and now you have to walk an extra 2 miles to get groceries you may or may not be able to afford because you never went to said grocery store before??

🐉 The grocery was in a pretty sketchy part of the city, with the smell of car exhaust and cigarettes lingering everywhere that you had to cover your nose to evade the scent.

🐉 You quickly went in the store and breathed in deeply, thankfully the store didn't smell so bad.

🐉 Besides than you, there were only 2 other people, the store owner and someone in a black suit eating some instant noodles.

🐉 You went to work trying to find all the stuff you need on your list. Coffee, fruits and veggies, snacks, and maybe some chocolate as a treat for yourself~

🐉 You pay for your things, unfortunately unable to afford the chocolates, and leave the store.

🐉 aaaaand now its raining...

🐉 You rush to the nearest cover, trying to cover the paper bag full of your groceries before hearing labored breathing from the alley you passed.

🐉 You stop and look back to see a man hunched over, his back to the wall as he winced at a wound he had on his torso that stained his white buttoned up shirt. He looked to have come from a fight..

🐉 You gasp, almost dropping your groceries. His golden eyes dart over to you and glare at your meek form.

🐉 "What're you lookin at?" he growls.

🐉 "You're..bleeding- You're bleeding!!" You start to panic.

🐉 "Yeah no shit I'm bleeding! What the fuck do you want?!"

🐉 You scramble away from the man in the alley frightened and freaked out. Out of instinct, you return to the store and ask where the first aid items are.

🐉 Kagiri sighed, trying his best to hold on while waiting for his gang to arrive and help him out. He just had to be strong. He can get through this. He can do it! He doesn't need anyone!

🐉 "Sorry! I'm back!"

🐉 goddamnit..

🐉 He grumbles at your presence but then realizes you have two bags and not one like you had recently. You put down your groceries and take a few stuff out of the other bag. Band-Aids..gauze..sanitizer..what's going on??

🐉 "What are you doing?" He asks in a threatening voice.

🐉 You don't say anything, you focus on trying to patch up his wounds, asking him a few things once in a while like "can you lift your arm please?" or "unbutton your shirt a bit.."

🐉 And he let you..for some reason...

🐉 He went from growling to staring silently at you while you worked on bandaging his wounds, like a feral dog being pet for the first time.

🐉 Now he managed to get a good look at you. You were quite cute, and it looked like you just got off work from the attire you were wearing. Your hands were so soft compared to his calloused ones, and your eyes..one look from you and even the toughest mafia boss will melt from how comforting they are..

🐉 And before he knows it, you've finished and were apologizing profusely to him for butting in on his situation, he was gonna say something else but you ran off.

🐉 You finally arrive back at your apartment, your pet cat rubbing against you as you lock your door. You smile and pick her up about to ramble about the hectic day you had until you realize..

🐉 You picked up your cat..

🐉 Your hands were free prior..

🐉 YOU LEFT YOUR GROCERIES!!

🐉 Silence fills the room before you let out a pitiful sob. Scolding yourself for forgetting your groceries with that mysterious guy, all that money and fresh food wasted! Your cat tries to lick your face to calm you down.

🐉 You pace around the room trying to figure out what to do now until a knock on your door is heard.

🐉 You open the door but there was no one there, but you see two men hastily and quite loudly scramble their way down the stairs giggling like middle schoolers. Did two grown men really ding dong ditch you??

🐉 You sigh and go to close the door, but your cat meows and trots outside and you look down to see her paw at a bag full of groceries..what?!

🐉 All your groceries were there, plus some extra cans of food, wrapped onigiri..your chocolates? and it wasn't in a dull paper bag anymore, it was in a black tote bag with a gold insignia of a sea serpent.

🐉 You didn't dare question it, considering the looks of the man who helped you and the part of town you were in, he was likely part of some gang and wanted to thank you.

🐉 But it didn't stop there...

🐉 You felt like you were being watched every time you were outside..no, it wasn't a feeling, THEY WERE LITERALLY RIGHT OUT IN THE OPEN WATCHING YOU.

🐉 It didn't take a genius to spot them. You started noticing newcomers to the places you frequented. Like in a cafe that was fairly quiet and cozy, there were about 5 men dressed in blazers with some kind of flashy undershirt and gelled up hair at the very back of the establishment.

🐉 They didn't do a good job trying to hide the fact they were watching you with a newspaper.

🐉 It freaked you out, but you tried your best to ignore them.

🐉 But it was hard to do that when they started talking to you..

🐉 "Excuse me, you dropped your wallet.." you turn around and almost stumble over the tall intimidating man right behind you meekly handing you back your wallet.

🐉 You take it back with a shaky hand and waddle away trying not to look back.

🐉 If you did, you'd see the big burly man absolutely blushing and squealing as a few other men giddily walk up to him, showing a video of the encounter you just had from across the street.

🐉 There was also the time you caught them staring dreamily at you when they saw that you started using the tote bag with the serpect symbol as your office bag, it was a pretty nice bag and you didn't want it to just lie around your house..

🐉 And that one co-worker who's kind of a creep? Never messed with you again. You caught a glimpse of them shivering over the symbol on your bag.

🐉 Not to mention boxes of groceries that show up at your door all wrapped up in a red bow, they still haven't learned to be more silent when dropping those off..

🐉 After a bit you start to recognize some of them from their haircuts or the jewelry they always have on them. It made you more curious as to what their deal was.

🐉 So you decided to search up online with the insignia on the tote bag as your first clue.

🐉 You find out that its the symbol for a local gang that dealt with all kinds of stuff, robbery, misconduct, public damage..mostly public damage..

🐉 You manage to find a photo of all of them, you recognize the man in the center. It was the guy you saw in the alley way..

🐉 Connecting all the dots, you somehow got the protection of a gang because you patched up their wounded boss..great..

🐉 The next day you spot a few of the gang members again but instead of ignoring them, you give them a small wave before heading off the work. They were left stunned with a story to tell the others that'll make them squeal like little girls.

🐉 They started becoming less and less distant from you.

🐉 From watching you across the street to making small talk about the prices of fruits at the store.

🐉 One by one the gang gets a special moment with you, they were small mundane moments, but they treasured them like a core memory.

🐉 Word finally got to the boss that you've been very close with them lately, and he decides it's time to confront you.

🐉 As usual, a knock is heard at your door, and you see them clumsily run away, leaving a box of groceries behind..you should probably tell them you have a doorbell.

🐉 But it wasn't a box of groceries, it was full of heart shaped chocolates, sweet pink sweets and about 3 stuffed bears, topped up with a bouquet of flowers, as well as a note. You bring the box in and read small card.

🐉 Dear Mx. L/N, please go to this address tomorrow at 6pm. Don't be late. Please.

🐉 You can see words like 'We love you' and 'Have a nice evening' and 'we cant wait' messily scribbled out.

🐉 You arrive at the location at the designated time and look around.

🐉 The place they wrote in was a fancy looking restaurant that looked like the only thing you could afford was the water..

🐉 You're escorted to a table in a private room. You can hear the muffled noises of men giggling and talking before you enter and they all quiet down. It was quite intimidating to see them all in the same room, but the scariest part was seeing the boss; Kagiri, sitting in the center.

🐉 A little Siamese cat with big yellow eyes mewls at you and you pet it. It jumps up to you and purrs on your lap. Around his neck is a red collar with a gold nametag with the serpent symbol engraved on it, and on the back read 'Unagi'. You hear the men awe softly at the sight of the boss' cat getting along with their darling idol

🐉 Kagiri stands up and smiles at you warmly and by warmly I mean he looks terrifying

🐉 "It's nice to see you again. I never got to formally thank you for what you done to me." he lifts up his shirt a bit to reveal his healed wound which faded into a scar.

🐉 You nervously say you're welcome and shake his hand, you can't help but notice him shiver over your touch.

🐉 He invites you to sit down and eat and you spend the night having dinner and talking with the gang.

🐉 They try their best to impress you, sitting up straight, puffing out their chests, deepening their voices..

🐉 It almost seems like they were competing for your attention.

🐉 Once dinner was over, Kagiri speaks up "Now, about our meeting, we've been meaning to ask you something." he says gently.

🐉 The large man walks over to you and takes your hand and kneeling..what whats happening..

🐉 "Y/N L/N..will you be our new boss?" He asks passionately.

🐉 The gang cheers, pleading for you to say yes, it was like being confessed to by 7 grown men

🐉 "So? What will you say?" Kagiri asks, with eyes sparkling with hope and adoration.

🐉 The gang was kicked out of the establishment for making too loud and causing a disturbance..

🐉 Maybe you shouldn't have said yes..

its done guys, this is probably the most fun ive had writing a fic!! also there may be bonus content about the individual gang members if you guys are up for that ;3

[curseofaphrodite]

A Very Sneezy Adventure

BUCKY BARNES X READER

summary: enemies to lovers in a domestic fluff setting?? yes.

The Winter Soldier saves the day, as well as two dozen kids! Some say even Starveil was spotted in the fight against the horrific minotaur.

"Fuck off!" you yelled at the TV screen, then turned it off.

You looked around the room in distaste. Your clothes were everywhere, there was an unnatural stench in the air, and your cat was nowhere in sight.

Turns out, being a witch didn't give you an upper hand when you were sick.

You laid back on your couch, the news reporter's words echoing in your ears. Being "spotted" in a fight against the villain that you were literally assigned to take down, only to have the spotlight taken away by your rival Bucky freakin' Barnes, did not feel good.

You knew the fight went down bad because you were sick, but you still pushed too hard. Hard enough for the Winter Soldier to come in from whatever the fuck he was previously occupied in and save your ass.

Did you atleast say thank you? No. You had barged off before he could even come over to your side.

As these thoughts trailed on, there was a knock at your door. You stood up groggily and went over to open it.

Bucky stood on the other side and you wondered if your sick brain had somehow conjured him up by fantasizing too much about punching his lights out.

"Hi?" he asked, making you slightly jump.

"Not a hallucination then." You remarked, sighing.

"Not last I checked," he smiled slightly. Smile? Was Bucky Barnes showing you pity?

"I brought you something," he continued, pulling his hand up to show a package. You didn't even need to ask him to know what it was. This was definitely pity with a capital P.

"What do you want?" you asked, sounding just as rude as you could be.

"Well, can't I come in? Things didn't go as planned back in 6th Avenue—"

"Look, if you came here to gloat, I'm not in the mood. I might magically make your mouth disappear."

"Threats already? I didn't even walk in the door." He smirked, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Look, I’m not here to fight—" He glanced around your disheveled living room. "Though it seems like you've been doing a good enough job of that with yourself."

You scoffed. "Let me guess. You want me to get on my knees and say thank you?"

Utter bafflement crossed his features as well as a tint of red that wasn't there before. "I mean… it wasn’t your best moment," he said, his tone uncertain, "but that’s not why I’m here. Stark sent me."

Tony Stark doesn't excuse mistakes. Happy's voice rang through your ears. He's a big risk taker but if the risk doesn't pay off, you're toast.

Great, been an avenger for two months and I'm already sacked.

"Come on in," you mumbled, stepping aside. He made no remark about the mess, but sat in the couch as awkwardly as he could.

"What did he want?" you asked, dreading what was coming.

"Answers," he said with a shrug. "He wanted to know how you were stumped against the very type of demons that you specialize to know about. Asked me if you even know mythical creatures or were those just lies."

You gasped.

"That's not the end — he thought you might even be a double-agent."

Your gasp came shrill this time. "Double agent for who? Medusa? Does he think there's a secret lair of mythical unicorns planning to overtake New York?"

"If there is, he certainly thought you had the brains to be its head, so I would take it as a compliment."

You were openly glaring when you sat opposite him. "Well, I wouldn't. Greek gods have Olympus. I doubt they'd want the trash can that is New York."

He smirked. "That sounds like what I said."

"You stuck up for me?"

"I was surprised to be helpful too, don't worry."

"What 'help' did you do if he didn't believe it?"

"Who said he didn't?"

You opened your arms and waved around as if it was obvious. "You wouldn't be here if he did."

"Oh." Realization dawned on his face. "No, no, he did believe me. I came here on my own accord."

"No, you said you're here because of him."

"Well, I am. He sent his wishes too. Said flowers would reach you in two business days."

You blinked. "Flowers?"

"I told him you were sick."

"How the fuck did you know I was sick— I'm not—!" you paused to sneeze. He raised an eyebrow. "Alright it's obvious now, but how did you know in the fight? Don't tell me you're that observant over my health."

"I'm not. It felt like you were staring down the minotaur for no reason instead of using your powers. I figured you were fighting back a sneeze." He laughed. You turned red, easily embarrassed.

"Great, I'm a joke among you guys now." You stood up, sighing. "If that's all, I'll show you to the door. Leave the mask at the table."

"What mask?"

You frowned. "The mask I lost at the fight, which is clearly in that package right now."

"Y/N," he began slowly. "Have you lost your mind? This is chicken soup."

There was a pause.

Only then did it occur to you that he came in to check in on you. To see if you were okay. And he bought chicken soup. You blinked three times before replying.

"I — thank you," you resigned, not wanting to be surprised more. You sat back down.

"Do you have bowls?" he asked, looking at the unfinished plates of chips in front of the TV. "Preferably clean ones?"

"It's in the kitchen," you waved to your left door.

"I'll get them," he said, standing up before you could.

A wave of headache hit you before you could even assess if this "niceness" was all a plan to secretly kill you inside your house. But before you could ponder on it properly, you had fallen asleep.

You woke up an hour later to a clean room and the smell of chicken soup. Plus a very comfortable Bucky Barnes in the midst of it all.

You realized you could get used to having someone to help.

"Why're you smiling at me?" he asked, looking up from his bowl. You immediately rearranged your face to a scowl.

"You used the fancy china! Stop snooping through my cupboards, you creep!"

"I was just trying to help—"

"Well, THANK YOU!" you said, just as angrily as before.

Bucky shrugged, then went back to watching TV. He was used to your mood swings. You got up, hoping the flutter in your stomach was just a side effect of being ill.

THE END

commissions | KOFI

[luveline]

Hey Jade! I was wondering if you could do some Derek Morgan comfort?! Maybe reader who deals with headaches/migraines?

Hope you're having a nice day/night!!💛

thanks lovely, you too!

You're pinching the bridge of your nose pointlessly when Derek and Spencer arrive that morning. 

“D'you guys do a coffee run?” you ask, surprised to see them come in at the same time. 

“We did!” Spencer says, putting a paper cup down in front of you. “I got you a donut, too.” 

“Thanks, honey,” you say, rubbing the hot spot between your brows to no results. Spencer smiles, pleased, and sits at his desk with the bag of donuts to start a napkin dissemination. 

You wrap your hand around the coffee and let it warm your fingers. 

“You okay?” Derek asks. His brows are pinched upwards at the starts but otherwise furrowed. “You don't look happy.” 

“I have a headache,” you admit. Talking is twice as hard with the pain pulsing behind your eyes; you slur. 

“What?” 

What does he mean, what? You look up from the desk in confusion, but he isn't confused like you, he's borderline upset. “It's not that bad,” you say. 

“It looks pretty bad where I'm standing.” 

Derek grabs the back of your chair and turns you toward him, his expression a mirror of your own discontent. He's wearing a short-sleeved shirt that in any other circumstance would draw your attention, and the badge clipped to his shirt is wonky. 

You're in pain, but you like him. You care about him in the weird way that makes you want to make him breakfast and tie his shoelaces. He is not a man that needs coddling, but you can't restrain yourself, reaching for his pocket to right his badge. 

He laughs quietly. “You're squinting.” 

“Pain's in my eyes.” 

“Sweetheart.” He takes your face in one hand and turns it down, away from the harsh office lights. “You're impossible to understand.” 

You laugh but wince when a flame of pain sparks anew. “I think it's travelling. It's in my brain.” 

“That's your second best feature.” 

“Don't make me laugh,” you plead. 

Morgan gives your cheek a rub with his thumb before pulling away. He takes the few steps to his desk and opens the drawer, pulling out a familiar pair of sleek black Ray-ban shades. “Here. Try these on for size,” he says, opening the arms wide. 

You close your eyes, but there's no need. Derek's extremely careful pushing them over your ears and up your nose. 

“Too sunny in here?” Blake asks, bemused as she skirts past with her mug of tea, her baby bump nudging the back of your chair. 

“Poor girl's not feeling good,” Derek answers for you. 

“Poor girl thought you felt sorry for her,” you say, staring at him through the grey lense of his shades. They're immediately helpful. You won't tell him that, though. 

“I pity anybody stupid enough to feel sorry for you, sweetheart.” He hesitates for no more than a second, dropping his hand onto the stretch of your shoulder blade gently. “You take anything for it? Aspirin?” 

“I did,” —your voice wobbles of its own accord, the instability that comes with a pain that has no clear end in sight— “but it hasn't kicked in yet.” 

He rubs your back, pressing his cheek briefly to your forehead in a side-armed hug. “Let me get you a glass of water.” 

“Morgan?” you ask, catching his arm. He waits. “Kiss it better?” 

You say it because you know he'll crack a smile. It's not nice seeing him so worried, and your headache genuinely feels a little better when he laughs. “Don't start with me. I'll do it. You know I will, beautiful.” 

You sink back into your seat and push his sunglasses up. “I'll be here.” 

He leaves to get you a glass of water. While you're waiting, Spencer passes you your donut, which you pick apart and chew on feebly. Distracted, a warm, chaste kiss is pressed to your cheek as a familiar hand places a glass of water in front of you. 

Derek wiggles his eyebrows at you, asking, “Better?” 

“I'm telling Penelope.” You wince as you turn on your monitor. “In a bit. Just as soon as this screen gets less bright.” 

[the-newlymadeweeb]

I Gotcha.

Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader

Description: three times you promised Luke that you got him. The two times he struggled to believe and finally when he did.

A/N: the gif is not mine, credits to the owner.

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

The days spent at camp immediately after his failed quest were arguably the worst of Luke's entire life.

He had to drag himself back home with a burnt chunk of an apple, a dragon tooth and half his face destroyed.

You had nursed him back to health. Spending three days straight in the infirmary. The solo quest was a bad idea and you had known it. Luke had gone alone in some sort of attempt to prove himself, seeking glory but now this entire thing had backfired and you couldn't help but worry.

When he awoke he had stared in mute horror at the mirror you held up to his face.

"I tried to minimise the scarring as much as I could, Luke. I couldn't remove it entirely but with the correct balm and scar creams it'll fade," you had explained.

Luke knew you were the best the camp infirmary had but he couldn't explain the rage that boiled within him. This fruitless quest, with its dumb replication to Heracles' and his quest all for the sake of earning his father's attention had permanently marred him.

Physical proof of his father's neglect right there for everyone to witness.

And he would have to carry this stupid scar for the rest of his life.

"Luke?"

His gaze snapped to meet yours, softening slightly, as you placed the mirror facedown on his bedside table.

"Yeah?"

He didn't want to see sympathy in your eyes, no doubt too many campers will be looking upon him like he was a pitiful kicked dog, nor did he want to see disappointment; he wasn't quite sure how he'd stomach that.

But your face held neither of those emotions, instead a strong conviction resided in the lines of your face, lines that you were too young to have, that marked the effects of stress no adolescent should feel.

"I'm gonna take care of you Luke, okay?" You reached out and cupped his uninjured cheek, "I gotcha. I always gotcha."

And wasn't that something.

He reached out cupping your face in his hands, this was his whole world.

"Okay baby; yeah, please."

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

Luke had miscalculated. He'd failed to retain the master bolt and the helm of darkness.

Now, he was being punished. Severely. And he hated it but he deserved it. He'd let Kronos down, he needed to learn his lesson so he never makes the same mistake.

The nightmares cut too much into reality though sometimes. His entire body lit aflame but it always got so much worse when he was forced to face a scenario where he had to cut you up so that your pieces would replace the Titan.

He never failed this test, but it always took the most out of him. Even if you always understood his anger, he wasn't sure you'd understand his methods; and at the crack of every dawn, he'd escape his cabin and run to the lake where he knew you'd always be. Like clockwork, watching the sun rise.

This time his skin buzzed with the phantom recollection of his nightmares, he had to scrub at his eyes to clear his vision a few times, mistaking the blood on his hands to be real in his fatigued state.

You sat on the deck, eyes fixed on the changing colours of the sky. He could hear your voice humming a soft nameless tune. This was your ritual, your futile attempts at interactions with your father as he burst across the heavenly dome on his sun chariot.

Nonetheless, Luke always enjoyed the sound of your voice. He'd appreciate it if Apollo never would.

You'd sense his presence as you always did in the early hours and you'd beckon him towards you.

Sitting by your side felt right, amidst all the tension he'd been under. The weight of all his plans. Your song was familiar, the heat and strength of your figure a comfort.

"Nightmares again?" You asked, knowing the answer regardless.

He'd nod.

There were a few truths he was allowed to tell you. Sometimes if he said it with enough of himself, he could fool himself to believe that all you knew weren't mainly lies.

"Come here."

And you'd guide his head to you lap, gentle– loving, like the first rays of the sun. You would card your fingers through his curls, and every now and then lightly ghost your fingertips over the scar on his face.

On occasion, Luke would dream that you were healing him, erasing his scars, erasing his pains.

"I gotcha Luke," you'd murmur, "I always gotcha."

Some mornings he'd fall into a dreamless sleep.

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

"I gotcha baby," oh he's missed that voice, "I always gotcha, Luke." It's been too long. Days, weeks, months. Years.

You were crying.

Percy and Annabeth were crying too but–

You're crying.

Don't cry.

He's really tired, and it's getting difficult to take a breath. He figures this is the feeling of death and he's trying to not be afraid.

You reach for him, and he forces himself to open his eyes and look at you.

It's not so bad. Your face has always been what he'd like to see last. It's just–

There's so much to say. So many things he has to tell you, to apologise for, to confess, to love and there's no time.

You're so beautiful.

Even covered in soot and monster dust and blood.

Your hands cup his face, fingers instinctively brushing his brows and scar. You keep mumbling small comforts, little assurances. But you don't promise life, because that wouldn't be true and while Luke has been a deceitful liar, you have never been one yourself and you won't lie to him even now.

But you promise that you got him. And he believes you.

"I know baby," He huffs and tries to say, "but now...it's time– time to let me go."

It's a struggle. His vision is blurry, he's really tired.

So he focuses on the feel of you instead, letting his eyes close. This is just like falling asleep.

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

[omkookie]

⌈ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ⌉ Rara learns that he can suck Bael's cock! :D

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Smut, coercion, threesome, MMF, PIV, bondage, Oral, cum swallowing, whipping, edging, Character x Character & Character x reader, typos

You hit him lightly with your whip, watching as his thighs trembled and his dick got harder. He was so pathetic, cute and flushed whenever you touched him. “He looks rather pathetic, doesn’t he?” Your cocky voice echoes throughout the dimly lit room, almost getting drowned out by Raphael’s pitiful whines. The blonde angel glares at you with burning hate as he struggles against his binds.

How many releases have you denied him so far…3?...4?

He wasn't pleased to be denied pleasure, and it was evident in his gaze.

Bael chuckles as he stares the angel down, “Don’t be too harsh on him, it's only his second time doing this..”

“Yeah… second time, right. “ You hum as you rip off another part of Raphael’s torn clothing.

This time he came to fuck with you, as odd as it was he did pursue you. “It’s almost like you’re some pervert who gets off on this” You say, causing Raphael to shake his head frantically. “Indeed. How come you decided to pursue MC this time?” Bael asks him while looking intrigued. He stripped himself of his own shirt, revealing his lean body and firm muscles. “Did you want this to happen so bad? I thought an angel like you would be more reserved than this…for a lack of better wording” He strokes Raphael’s wing, causing its feathers to flutter while you continue to tease him by hitting his reddened thigh.

“He liked it, that’s why he came back for more.” You mutter

“Indeed he did… I can’t blame him for it” Bael agrees. Raphael looks at him from the corner of his eye, his wing straining as the other man continues to touch it

“Raph, I'll have you do something different today, okay?” Your hand strokes his cheek and you look at his face for approval. His red eye blinks slowly, and he tilts his head to the side with curiosity.

“Wh—hhaht?” (What?) he tries to ask through the ball gag in his mouth.

“Today I'll have you please Bael, okay?”

He stares at you blankly, seemingly not understanding what you mean. You take the gag off of him, and Raphael gulps dryly before giving you an odd look, “He's a man?” he says in confusion, almost causing both you and Bael to burst into laughter.

“Haha…and?” You chuckled at his confused face, “You can have sex with him too, you know that right?”

Raphael gives you a baffled look before stating, “This demon isn't touching me.”

“Rara~ I'm showing you more pleasure don't you want it?”

“... it's a demon…”

He hisses in distaste

“It's Bael. He's my favorite, I can show you why”

It took some convincing, but Raphael begrudgingly nods his head, giving you the green light. “I’ll rip your throat out if you do anything strange–” he starts threatening but is cut off by you.

You stroke your irritated angel's head to soothe him. Bael gives Raphael's neck a light squeeze before running his hand across his cheekbones.

Raphael gave him a dirty look, but didn't protest. Bael strokes his face for a few more seconds before he instructs him, “open your mouth”

Raphael does as he's told and opens his mouth obediently, closing his eyes when he sees Bael tug his trousers down and pull his cock out. Bael pressed his cock into his mouth, and be found himself listening to your voice as you tell him “Don't just keep it there, Give it a lick”

He gives the tip a lick, trying not to focus on the smell, the taste of precum, and the hand that was tangling in his hair.

You straddled Raphael, your pussy hovering right on top of his cock as you rubbed his tip against your entrance. His hips trembled and he let out a strangled whine, his voice mostly muffled by the cock in his mouth.

You slide down onto his cock, rocking your hips against him while he moans, his arms struggling against his binds. You press your hand against Bael's back, and he turns his head towards you- capturing your lips in a kiss as he continued to fuck Raphael's throat.

Bael groans, Feeling himself getting closer to release as he tugs Raphael's head up, pushing his cock deeper in. Raph gags, tears streaming down his cheeks as he looks up at Bael pleadingly.

“Shh..good..boy” Bael huffs a praise, pulling his cock out of Raphael's mouth just to jerk it on his face. You stare at the two of them in awe, still lazily riding Raph’s cock while Bael cums on his face, covering him in ropes of his sticky cum.

Raph groans, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten as he feels Bael cum on his face– it was dirty, humiliating. He was getting more aroused, thrusting his hips up into you, and spilling his cum into your pussy with no warning. His cock twitched inside of you, finally being pushed over the age as Raphael's eyes rolled to the back of his skull.

“Dirty little thing.” You scold, watching the cum seep out of your still filled pussy. “Did Bael cumming on your face really push you over the edge?” You ask, watching your pathetic angel gasp for air, his chest heaving. “Did it? What a pervert.” Bael smirked, clearly pleased with him,

“Well, we still have a long night ahead. Let's see what else we can teach him.”

[lightleak007]

~ The Legend of How You Disappeared ~

Storyline: Kokushibo thought that people with rare blood are the only ones who can make him feel the excitement of consuming them. But you—you are awakening his humanistic urge that is supposed to be long forgotten.

!! SMUT ALERT !!

!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK !!

PS. Hi, reader! I'm making my tumblr debut with one of my favorite Demon Slayer Character x Reader stories that I made. Hope you enjoy reading~

During the Taisho period, it is part of the culture to be married at a young age. The age of sixteen is the appropriate age to have a husband through an arranged marriage. That’s why learning how to be a good wife is much more important than learning how to be intellectual.

You had prepared yourself for the day to be chosen as a bride, but your life wasn’t the same as everybody else—no one wanted you.

If only you were chosen and got married by the age of sixteen, you wouldn’t be seen as bad luck by your own family and everybody else in town.

As you live your life for two decades, you are seen as a disgrace, and everyone who knew you always looked at you with pity in their eyes. Even work does not come easy since everyone believes you’ll only attract misfortune to their business. It got you thinking that maybe life isn’t hard, it’s just you finding it hard to live because the people around you make it so.

It feels like you’re just breathing, but not living—you feel empty and unwanted. The only thing that gives you peace of mind is an evening walk, and you developed a habit of doing it every night without a miss.

Even with the rumors about a demon who hunts humans for food being the only talk in your town lately, it doesn’t stop you to take a late-night walk. More like, you don’t care if you encounter the demon and he puts an end to your life—or maybe the demon won’t even choose you to be their prey in the first place.

You scoffed at the thought of encountering a picky demon as you continue to walk towards the riverside. When you got to your usual spot, you put down your lantern on the grass before sitting beside it. The moon is unusually bright tonight and its light is reflecting on the calm water that is flowing in the river in front of you.

“Ah~ It feels a little chilly tonight,” you said to yourself as you felt the night breeze, and put on your haori that you brought with you. Nighttime is the only time you are free—from judgments and the pitiful stare of everyone you know. It feels nice to have solitude and the gentle flow of wind against you is adding to your relaxation.

The cold air of the night keeps brushing against your skin and as the wind blows, your scent is being flown with it—reaching the nostrils of the rumored demon in the area. He can feel his senses tingle upon smelling a human nearby.

Kokushibo moves swiftly to your location, his hunger beginning to rise within him. Just by your scent, he could tell you are a woman in her younger years, and the closer he gets to where you are… his sixth sense revealed much more.

Without you noticing him, Kokushibo stands a few feet away behind you. He couldn’t believe what he could see with his sixth sense, but he knows that his eyes are not lying to him.

Kokushibo can tell without a doubt that you are a virgin.

A thrill runs in his veins and an unfamiliar urge is igniting within him upon knowing this. Kokushibo thought that people with rare blood are the only ones who can make him feel the excitement of consuming them. But you—you are awakening his humanistic urge that is supposed to be long forgotten.

Being a demon, Kokushibo did not think that it was possible for him to feel any sexual urge, especially, toward a human. For demons, humans are nothing but food and power source. Yet when your scent penetrated his nostrils, a tingling sensation runs through under his skin, and his instincts told him to have you.

Kokushibo unsheaths his fleshy sword from his side. Thinking to himself that after he absorbs you, he'll be back to his usual self—being composed and reserved. In just one slash, he knew he could end your life and he won’t be bothered by his humanistic feelings anymore.

You only became aware of someone else’s presence behind you when you felt a sharp tip pressing at your back. A gasp left your lips and your mind wondered who could it be. Your heart races its beat as you slowly turn your head to see who it is.

A louder gasp escapes from you upon realizing that the person who pointed his sword at you, is in fact, a demon. You tilt your face away to see him, he has three pairs of eyes that can’t go unnoticed by someone. His face has flame markings on the left side of his forehead and on the right side of his chin. He stands tall in front of you and his spiky hair is tied in a ponytail behind his head. He’s wearing a purple kimono with beehive patterns on it and partnered it with black hakama pants that are tied with a white cloth belt on his waist. Somehow, you felt admiration for his majestic features.

“W-Who are you…?” You asked as he pointed his fleshy sword at your face this time. Well, you guess this is where your miserable life ends.

Even as a demon, he’s polite enough to answer your question. “Upper Moon Rank One of Twelve Kizuki,” he saw how your face looks puzzled at what he said, “Kokushibo.” He was a little surprised that you did not run away screaming.

As someone who’s tired of living, you don’t feel scared anymore of getting killed by him. It’s not your wish to spend your time growing old in a world that only gives unfairness to you.

“Don’t worry, I won’t run away,” you said as you get up on your feet, “You can do anything to me. I’ve been ready to throw my life away anyway, Kokushibo.” You flashed him a genuine smile—something you haven’t done in a long time.

Kokushibo’s eyebrows twitch, “Do…anything to her?” He thought as he felt the shivers that run through his body, and the smile that you gave him only made his heart fall. He pointed his sword to your chest and he watches as you anticipated the slash.

You waited with eyes-closed, heartbeat racing but there’s no regret creeping into your chest. Then, you felt the sword swing across your body and the breeze of the night penetrated your skin. Slowly, you opened one eye to see what happened—only to see Kokushibo sheathing his sword back to his side.

When the wind flew again, it felt too cold against your body. Realization slowly sank in you as shredded pieces of clothing swayed in front of your eyes. You look at your body and found yourself…naked.

“I have permission to do anything to you right now,” Kokushibo catches your waist and pulled your naked body closer to his. His face inching closer to your neck and his other hand already caressing one of your breasts.

“A-Aren’t you—hng!” The feeling of his lips kissing lavishly on your neck made you hold off your question. You weren’t aware that a demon like him could be a pervert and would do sexual advances on his prey—this wasn’t what you expected. His sharp nails grazing against your back made you elicit a shuddering breath and caused you to push your chest closer to him.

Kokushibo slathers his tongue from your shoulder blade to your neck and it reaches until the back of your ears. “Your taste is addicting….” He paused upon the realization that he doesn’t know your name.

“Tell me…” Kokushibo pulled your chin to tilt your head and made you look at him, “...your name, human.”

“_______,” you answered without hesitation as you hold onto his shoulders and felt your heart flutter at his compliment. Your naked body presses close to him and you can feel a hard tent poking on your thigh.

“_______,” Kokushibo repeated as if your name is something he won’t ever want to forget. His hands ran all over your body as his mouth started working on your neck again. Your scent and taste against Kokushibo’s senses are enough to make him moan. He ran his fangs on the veins of your neck and the urge to bite you is so strong but his sexual urge for you is stronger.

The feeling of Kokushibo’s lips against your skin is ticklish and sensual, both feelings are something you never had before from someone else. You felt your body being guided to lay down on the grass where your shredded clothes are. As soon as your back hits the ground, Kokushibo hovers on top of you and seizes your lips.

“Hmng!” The sudden kiss caught you off-guard, making it hard to respond as his tongue invades your mouth. You can only release puffs of air and let him eagerly suck on your tongue—the sensation is electrifying.

Kokushibo keeps himself busy as he savors your taste in your mouth, not really minding all the saliva he’s been slurping from you. It has been so long since he ever kissed someone and he’s well aware that not even with his wife from before time, had awakened a such desire he’s been feeling for you. He doesn’t want to stop and his tongue pushes deep into your mouth—nearly reaching your throat.

You almost choked and your eyes filled with tears as you find it hard to breathe. With all the strength that you have, you pushed him away and moaned, “Ko-Kokushibo…”

There’s a trickle of saliva on the side of his mouth as he pulled away and the way you moaned his name made him feel a throb in his aching length. Kokushibo wiped off your stained cheek with his cold hand as gently as he could. He’s feeling too much ache between his legs that his clothing is making him feel more uncomfortable.

You watch as Kokushibo undress between your legs, he has pale skin but a muscular body, and your eyes were interrupted from lowering down your gaze when he hoists your legs in his arms. The dripping of your arousal in between your legs is being reflected by the moonlight, and the embarrassment snaps in you as Kokushibo leans in closer to your wetness.

Kokushibo inhales deep your arousal scent—too inviting for him. He felt your hips squirming away in shyness but he had no problem firming his hold on your thighs. His hands spread your wetness open and his sharp nails dug into your inner thighs at the sight of your tight hole. Every breath that he takes is heavy as he keeps himself in control.

You started to feel more embarrassed and insecure as Kokushibo stay in a daze with your virgin hole. But, every puff of air from his mouth feels too hot against your wetness that it’s taking effect on you too. Your soft hand reaches for his hand that’s holding into your inner thigh, “What’s… wrong?”

“I want to taste what’s dripping from you here,” Kokushibo’s knuckles caresses your folds and gently prod your clit unconsciously.

Before you could answer, you felt his flat tongue lathering on your wetness back and forth. The tip of his tongue rubbed on your clit and licking on your slit—causing your legs to spread further apart. Your hands hold onto his head as Kokushibo let himself drown in your wetness, and your voice sounds high and lewd from the sensation.

Kokushibo’s mouth works with hunger and your arousal coating even his chin as he pushes his tongue inside you. He slurps loudly and sucked on the nub his mouth had found—causing your legs to tremble against his hold.

“Ahhh~!!” You cried out in pleasure as you tug on his hair, “Kokushibo~! Your tongue—haa~!!”

The way you pulled his hair is not having any effect on Kokushibo, it only made him groan against your clit, as his tongue penetrates your insides. He can feel the soft pleats of your insides squeezing around the wet muscle of his mouth.

The further his tongue reaches inside you, the closer you felt yourself convulsing. Your legs shake around his head and your body gave in to the newfound ecstasy. You came undone in his mouth and your insides wetter than ever.

Kokushibo gulped all the secretions left in his mouth and he stare down at your heavily breathing state. He presses his shaft on your abused clit and you flinch away in sensitiveness. He had to hold your hips still as he started penetrating your tight insides.

You whined at the sensation of getting stretched apart, he felt hard inside you, and it feels impossible to take all of him. The brush of his pulsating veins in your slick walls is making your eyes roll in the back of your head.

“I can’t— ‘s too much.”

Kokushibo pulled your body up on his lap, to help you sink on him as he was just halfway in, “Don’t run away from me, _______.”

You felt his hands on your ass and your body swiftly pushed down to his length. You let out a cry of his name and felt a searing pain as you fully take him inside you. Tears freely fell from your eyes as you feel the pain—his length feels too hard and your insides still adjusting from his wide girth.

"Please..." You can feel the sting in your eyes as tears continue to trickle down and stain your cheeks, "Stop... Please, stop."

Unbeknownst to both of you, spots of blood from your torn hymen are freely dripping from your joined bodies together and staining the ground.

"I can't.” Kokushibo started to thrust, “This can't be over now, _______."

You cried out louder and had to bite on his shoulder to distract yourself from the pain. Your teeth sink into his pale skin and your fingertips scratch his back, as Kokushibo keeps your body moving on top of him.

Kokushibo groaned internally as he felt you bit on his skin… and he almost prayed to a god just to keep the mark that you made. But, it wasn’t possible, his healing ability already made your bite vanish.

“Kokushibo,” you sniffled on the crook of his neck.

“It will feel better, _______,” Kokushibo kisses your shoulder blade and continue to gently guide your hips in moving. He couldn’t focus on feeling the pleasure as you cry, but he knew that he couldn’t stay still as your insides grip on his length too hard.

Your insides adjusted fully as he keeps thrusting, soon enough, the pain you were feeling was replaced by a ticklish yet sensual sensation. You can feel that it became easier to take him in as you move above him, and your voice lets out erotic moans.

Kokushibo has his six eyes closed as he lets you move on your own, the pleasure in his body is getting stronger and stronger. His hands squeeze on your soft ass and his sharp nails unconsciously left scratch marks on your skin, due to his eagerness. He’s letting out deep groans and sighs as he lets himself be consumed by the pleasure.

You felt like a knot is getting twisted inside you and the more you move, the tighter it gets. “Kokushibo~ Hnngh!”

Kokushibo caresses your face after hearing his name, your face distorts beautifully for him as the pleasure intoxicates you. He wrapped one arm around your waist and move his hips, taking the lead with speed. He can feel your nipples brushing against his face as he bounces you on top of him.

Your hold on his shoulders tightens and it’s hard to keep yourself steady. You couldn’t think straight as the pleasure gets in your head. You felt your body giving up as another wave of surprise orgasm surged throughout your body.

Kokushibo felt your insides squeeze around him repeatedly—forcing him to pull out. He felt your body falls on him and your ragged breathing is apparent. He took in a deep breath, he had almost reached his high, and he intended to pursue it.

You felt being flipped to your back and Kokushibo from behind is pushing his shaft inside you again. A loud whine escaped your lips as you feel being full again, and he felt bigger in the new position. Your legs already shaking as soon as he started to thrust.

“Kokushibo~!! Unghh!!” Your hands gripping the grass and making marks on the ground as you take in his pounding. This time, he felt forceful and relentless—as if chasing something.

Kokushibo’s mind got clouded by the pleasure that he’s spitting out a proposal near your ear in between his moans, “Let’s live together, ________.” He moaned deliciously again, “Live together with me.”

Without thinking about it, “Yes! Kokushibo, yes~!!”

Maybe it was the pleasure you’re feeling that took your sense of logic away, but you know you won’t regret the choice you made.

Kokushibo dragged his hips once more before unloading thick strings of his warm cum and it painted your narrow insides white. All of his kept seeds bursting out inside you and making you full—literally overwhelming your womb.

You can still feel Kokushibo pumping inside you and your body could only take in all that he gave. Eyes rolling at the back of your head, hands gripping the ground, and your voice sounding lewd can be heard from a far distance.

Kokushibo stared at your limp state, while his desire is barely satiated. He took you in his arms and brushed away the strands of your hair from your face, “Take my blood and I’ll keep you, _______.”

You obliged. Finally, you have found someone who wanted you.

Before sunrise, you and Kokushibo are off to spend the rest of your demon life together. Leaving your shredded clothes on the ground and pieces of evidence of you losing your virginity. The marks on the ground and the spots of blood from where you were last night were founded by a man who’s out to fish in the river.

Since then, a legend of how you disappeared arises in your town based on the traces that you left. People believed that you were eaten by a demon as it was your fate for being unmarriable.

The legend of your disappearance was told to many young girls through generations and they feared having the same fate as you.

[stayinlimbo]

the world is ending (but i'm happy you're here with me)

pairing: lee minho x f!reader genre: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort warnings: one (1) swear, mc is mentioned to have longer hair at one point, slightly unedited, lowercase intended word count: 1.07k note: i had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope you enjoy it too ♡

there comes a time in every girl’s life where the overwhelming urge to change her physical appearance eclipses all sensible and rational thought. as it turns out, you’re no exception. 

“you’re going to laugh.”

“no i’m not.” 

“you already are,” you deadpan, frowning at minho’s pitiful attempts to repress the growing smile quirking at his lips. your boyfriend has the audacity to chuckle at your words, pushing himself off the couch and gliding towards your stiff figure standing at the entrance of the living room. 

“you can’t blame me, you look so cute and adorable right now,” he defends. an arm snakes around your shoulders and you relax slightly at his touch, wrapping your arms around his middle. “besides, it can’t be that bad—at least, not enough for you to have to hide from me.” 

minho pulls you further into the warmth of his chest, the tender embrace sending a small shiver down your spine. his lips meet the side of your hooded head in a firm kiss, the extra pressure ensuring you would feel the loving gesture. the usual trail of kisses towards your forehead and cheeks is blocked, currently concealed by your (his) hoodie’s drawstrings working overtime to reveal only a small oval of skin. 

the hood’s bunched fabric frames the top of your eyes and lips. you can barely see in front of you until one of minho’s fingers slips into the opening to try and take a peek at what’s covered inside. 

minho is being nice; you look ridiculous.

and it’s your fault really. you should have known you couldn't escape your misfortunes that easily. 

work for the past month has been hell: the road-closure of the usual route you’d take, tacking on an additional fifteen minutes to your commute. the early mornings you have to endure to clock-in on time. the “important” group project your boss delegated around the office. the unpaid overtime for said project. the same petty, passive-aggressive coworkers breathing down your neck and critiquing your every move because you made a mistake once—all casting insurmountable pressure on your already exhausted state. 

you finally snapped when someone callously stole the lunch minho had prepared for you from the breakroom’s fridge. 

you suppose now it was your brain’s attempt to regain some sort of control over the strenuous situation, but the impulse to cut your hair, try a new style, start fresh with your appearance bombarded every thought on the journey home. call it an impulsive thought, an intrusive thought, whatever—you needed to do something.

too bad the hair stylist couldn’t follow directions for shit. 

“minho, i’m serious,” you whine, burying your face further into his chest. suffocating in the arms of the man you love doesn’t sound like such a bad idea right now. “she ruined my hair. how am i supposed to go out in public like this?”

“i can’t tell you if you haven’t even shown me yet. i’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” he muses, chuckling at the vibrations tickling his torso from the muffled groan you release. 

minho starts to sway the two of you back and forth at your silence. the rhythmic movement cradles you in a comforting hold, temporarily soothing your spiraling thoughts. he’s right; you’re going to have to show him at some point. might as well just get it over with now. 

a defeated sigh escapes you. well, here goes nothing.

you step out of minho’s arms and pry the hood off to reveal your botched hair in all its glory. 

uneven bangs, a completely different color than from when you left for work this morning, fall into your face and cover the top of your eyes. you can’t see yourself but judging from minho’s small hiss and surprised, contorted face, it’s not pretty. 

and it’s not like you asked for anything outlandish: a standard cut and a new style of bangs was your definition of revamping your appearance. so when the stylist cut off a majority of your hair, it took everything within you to not immediately burst into tears as the salon’s floor and your lap splayed the once lengthy remains. 

you don’t even know where she got the idea of bleaching your hair. now your wallet and soul are emptier than ever and there is nothing you can do except hope minho doesn’t ask you to turn around because the layers are downright atrocious. 

“so? what do you think?” a wobbly smile makes its way onto your face. “not what you were expecting, right?”

you can’t help the tears welling into your eyes at his silence. he’s just…staring. certainly this can’t be the dealbreaker, right?

 …right?

you’re saved from your inner turmoil when minho moves forward to carefully bring you back into his arms. the tears finally spill down your cheeks and onto his shirt, the comforting scent of minho flooding your senses once again. if you could hide here forever, you would. 

“it’ll grow back.” 

“i know.”

“you still look sexy.” he pinches your side, coaxing a watery laugh from you. his smile is infectious, and you can’t help but tearfully look up at him with one of your own. 

you playfully guide one of his hands towards the back of your damaged hair, leaving it there. “so you’re not breaking up with me over this?” you tease, resting your head back against his chest. you don’t notice the subtle shift in your boyfriend’s gaze until he softly calls your name.   

“i would love you even if you were bald,” he confesses quietly, squeezing you tighter to him.

you can’t help but snort into his chest. “yeah?” 

“yeah. i will love you now until it’s long again. i will love you with any hair cut, color, style, anything. even if you hate it or one day regret it, my love for you won’t change,” minho assures, his sincerity echoing in his words.

“so if i dyed my hair pink tomorrow, you’d be okay with it?”

“do what you want, whenever you want.” 

because it doesn’t matter to him what you do with your hair. you’re still you, his beautiful and resilient (and sexy) girlfriend. even as his hands run through the chopped, disproportionate strands on the back of your head, he finds you more and more enchanting with each passing day.

“i will be here for you. always.” 

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺

(“i still have to go to work.” 

“just wear a hat.”)

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