#Like I'm so fucking sick - my body is screaming at me to rest but I'm trying to get things done

[sastielsfandom]

So, we have money set aside that we cannot touch for a place to live. We have incomes coming our way. We are simply trying to survive until we can secure housing. But we don't have the funds yet because we're waiting on approvals and such. We're going to try and stay at hotels until then, because sleeping in parking lots is scary with a car full of girls.

Especially when we break down and have to push the car. One of those nights we managed to get to a parking lot and most people kept their distance even with greetings. But while I was getting something out of the trunk, bend over looking for something, someone was trying to talk to me and calling me beautiful and it was gross. Saying things to me and my sister but she didn't notice. The only reason he left us alone was because some other guy shooed him away which I grateful for. But a lot of the times there aren't people willing to do that you know? And that was like at two a.m. or something, not an hour of politeness.

Plus it's been raining and that in itself has made me want to curl up in a ball and stay away from cars. Got too much car trauma for that shit.

Basically, trying to avoid more trauma for myself and my siblings, and my mother. If anyone could please help, whether it's a dollar or five, just whatever you can!! We appreciate it greatly!!

Paypal

Cash.app

Gofund.me

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Day 314, and not a whole lot done, just finished up Incredulous, but that's okay since I'm feeling bleh anyway. Any progress is good progress when bleh :)

[hoseoksluna]

A CELEBRATION OF 2K FOLLOWERS — PLEASANT, GOOD AND MERCIFUL | jjk

pairing: non-idol!boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader 

genre: smut, angst, fluff — the whole package

word count: 8.9k

summary: jungkook wanted to make the night better for you—but what he didn't expect is that he would come across his true, unabashed self while doing so.

taglist: join | cp: wattpad, ao3

warnings: jungkook, physical violence, jungkook is wearing that mesh top and that exact outfit (god, help me) and he's horny (god, help me again), abandonment issues, dissociation, panic mode, fear, swear words, dom/sub dynamics, protected sex, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), deepthroat:), teasing, pda, jungkook smokes and jungkook uses his busan accent (you have been warned), religion, praying, anxiety, hyper-independence, trust issues, begging, a little bit of a praise kink — barely, cowgirl:).

note: because we hit 2k incredible followers, i prepared this for you, my babies. a full fucking package of drama, smut, angst and fluff—all from jungkook's own pov!!!!! this is all for you bc i love you sm. thank you, guys, so much for being here with me, sticking around and reading my stupid fics. enjoy this one shot and let me know what you think. i'm sending you so many kisses until you get sick of me. seriously. i won't stop. i love you. MWAHMWAHMWAHMWAHMHWA.

It is a lucid dream, really, the way the lustrous colors of the fireworks bloom across the charcoal sky. They intertwine with the darkened clouds, like vines of wild flowers, that try and fail to remain hidden and Jungkook thinks you burst with even richer, emotive colors. 

With your kaleidoscopic glitter on the high points of your cheeks, and the tiny stars that you stuck on each arch of your brow. 

He can feel the vibration of the deep bass, belonging to the music, coursing down your chest as he stands behind you, drifting his hands down the upper half of your body while the rest of the strangers are hypnotized by the rapper on stage that he has very little knowledge of. The reason why he paid for the tickets, pumped a full tank of gas, drove you all the way to the countryside outside of the normality of your daily life and never let go of your hand—despite the fact they grew uncomfortably clammy due to the stifling heat—was because you loved the man. The vulgar headliner, whose lyrics nearly made his eyes fall out of his sockets once he fully and consciously listened to the songs that you always sing when you do your makeup or hum at random times when you’re doing your own thing. 

And what’s worse, it made his dick hard when he heard you scream out the swear words and the filthy imagery painted in the vivaciousness of the songs.

You, who scarcely cursed. 

Who omitted the vulgarity when rapping along. 

He doesn’t think he ever caught those words coming out of your mouth. Not even when he was balls-deep in you. 

Multiple times. 

It had only been four months ago when he found you and his long silent heart gained your voice. It was the sweetest, most languid sound that ever graced his ears and in an instant, you became a fleshly sanctuary of serenity. One he would find himself needing more often than he liked because the truth is—Jungkook doesn’t date. 

He considers relationships an unnecessary house of pain. If he spends a long time there, he forgets what the outside world looks like. Forgets how to get home. Forgets the roads and the rules and moralities of life and society because, deep down, he lets go of himself for the girl. 

He would kill a soul if she found herself needing it. Or at least destroy one so she would have a peace of mind. 

Break hands and break noses of people who looked at her wrong. 

That’s who he is and as much as he tried to change it, he failed every time. Failed like the clouds up above. His effort to stay hidden from you vanished into thin air because you would invariably find him and his heart would start praying with your voice. The pathetic thing would beg for mercy from the world. His knees would wobble and he’d let them sink right in front of you—all because of your deeply inert calmness and briskness that would, strangely, pour the nectar of mollification over his bloodstream. 

And he gave in to you because you didn’t ask, nor expect, anything from him. 

You didn’t do what the others did. 

You were independent and so full of life, of a different world, one he wanted to take a peek inside. 

And what he didn’t predict was that the road would be molded for his feet. And once he kissed you and learned the ins and outs of your intellect and the chambers of your heart, he still remembered the streets that line the outside world—its names, even. He remembered the address of his own apartment building, the number to his door and to the pass code. 

And so did you. 

You didn’t ask him to kill for you. And you didn’t ask him for tickets to see your favorite artists. 

He did it because he unreservedly loved you. 

And here you are, giggling, rubbing your little ass up against his groin and he detects happiness prickling his nerve endings. His hands are enveloped, snugly, as if no one was around and the artists traveled across the country for you, around your waist while your hands are up in the air, pointed fingers erect, dipping up and down to the rhythm of the music. 

And what he could never predict, not even in a million years—he’s enjoying himself. Feels the traces of the same vibrations ricocheting off your back into his chest, where the song enlivens him. 

He’s enjoying himself because you are enjoying yourself, brimming with elation and the radiance of your smile as you laugh, dance and scream out curse words that he’s equally enjoying hearing. 

Jungkook makes a mental note to pull those sounds out of you later in the early hours. 

And then you turn around, surprising him. You cup the side of his neck while you point that index finger in his face, screaming out the lyrics. And Jungkook regards it so overwhelming that he can only stare. Doesn’t know the lyrics to scream them back at you and make your experience better, but he’s learning them as he’s consuming them from you, his eyes tracing over each movement of your mouth that engraves them in his brain. He feels your hips moving under his palm at the bottom of your spine and when you roll your body forward, colliding into his like a star that meets its lover once only to never see it again, and brush your lips against his—he’s so horny and so in love with you that his eyes wet, his emotions rushing in and clouding his sight. 

The background fades out, fully, into the charcoal of the night, the colored lights softening and it’s just you that is the distribution of incandescence for the people present—and for him. And then you go down, dragging your hands down his stomach and his thighs, only to spring right up, grab his hips and make that collision happen—against the laws of the universe. 

A different star. A special one. 

Out of his darkened peripheral view, he can sense the audience having a way better time than they did before you turned around to face him. But Jungkook doesn’t give a fuck. 

Not when his cock is so tight in his pants. 

Thankfully, you’re obscuring it with the shape of your delightful body. He thinks he’s going to run with you to his car, pump more adrenaline into your body, so you can refresh the drowsy grass with a pristine layer of dew through the sound of your laughter. He also wonders if you’re wet yourself underneath that gray dress of yours and just as he’s about to lean over and yell that question into your ear, you turn around and get ready for the next song. 

And catch the glance of some guy to your right as you do. Jungkook grits his jaw because you linger for a second longer that he doesn’t particularly like.

A certain fever poisons his veins, but at the same time he feels the pinpricks of a cold sweat at the top of his spine. Who the fuck does he think he is, staring at his girl like that? 

But when he follows that line of the half broken gaze, he finds the guy’s slender face scrunched up in disgust. 

Oh, Jungkook might be ready to throw some hands and get him kicked out of this place, tell the cops it was all him so you can continue enjoying yourself in his arms. He’s seen some people sticking their tongues down their partner’s throat and he’s giving you a dirty look for dancing? 

This can easily be his very last night alive. 

Instinctively, Jungkook bunches up his fists and he’s ready to go after him, but you scream out and emit out your excitement, taking a deep breath to go absolutely mad as the rapper begins to perform the song that he’s heard you jamming out to the most. You take his hands, beaming at him from behind, and uncurl them on your tummy. Your glance was too brief and there’s still a furrow to his brows and now he worries you think he’s being a buzzkill. He doesn’t want to ruin the night for you, so he draws in closer to the crook of your neck and begins to dance, softly, with you. Your hands intertwine with his and you bang them in the air, jumping up and down at the bridge of the song that the headliner hypes up. 

And then you’re singing in a different language and he’s done for, his heart tightening in his chest. The one he’s heard your mother talk in over the phone while you replied in English. Jungkook squeezes you so hard and you let him, your smile growing. Your voice is more throatier and low-pitched and Jungkook senses your foreignness swathing his cock and he knows there’s a bigger tent in his pants. He presses it against you, makes you feel it and you throw your delicious ass. 

His eyes nearly go cross-eyed as he rolls them back, tilting his head. The wind sweeps across the sweat of his exposed forehead, sifting through his hair and he can’t wait any longer. Desire has overpowered the poison in his veins in such a mighty way and he begins to stand in the middle of a crossroad. 

Wait forty five minutes until the rapper finishes the show and then get stuck in the crowd as everyone tries to leave at once. 

Or wait two more minutes and then bolt to the car to fuck your brains out. There’s a higher chance you and him won’t be caught sinning in the backseat. It’s midnight and the villagers are asleep. And in the forty minutes, while everyone enjoys the last show, he can make you come so many times and ascertain that your experience will be heightened and ultimately better. 

He’s also sure you’ll be able to hear him—if he leaves the window open a little bit. 

He’s ready to turn you around, the decision throbbing in his sternum, but you make the move first. Swiveling on your feet, your body faces him, though your head doesn’t. Once again, he follows your gaze. You scowl at the guy, your brows knitting and your glossy mouth rounding before moving into the shape of the lyrics. You throw a dirty look his way one last time and Jungkook laughs in pride, his heart constricting in the love he bears for you, and he pulls you in, disposed to kiss you. You wrap your arms around his neck and open your mouth just as he kisses you—and it’s you who darts out their tongue, rolling it against his. Jungkook squeezes your bum, slapping it gently—and it’s simultaneous the way you and him both peek at the guy’s reaction. 

The fucker is grinning. 

You give him a vulgar gesture, the moonless blue light enveloping around your middle finger. 

Jungkook laughs so hard that heads turn in his direction and he’s fucking delighted. You devour it with your mouth, sucking his lips so intensely that he stops breathing. He senses you sealing it in him and he can’t wait any longer. 

He needs you and he tells you. 

Breaking the lip lock, he peppers kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear, wafting his hot breath there. He feels the gooseflesh on your arm right upon his ear, too, and electricity courses down his stomach. Fuck, he loves it so much. Thinks you’re so incredible and he wants to fuck that fact into your guts. 

“Let’s get out of here. I want you,” he rasps, drifting his hand up your bum to the ends of your hair, bunching them in his fist. “I want to give you this dick. You deserve it.” 

You suck in a harsh breath and withdraw to look at him. He bites his lip at the way his words painted a palette of such flushed beauty on your face, using colors this festival has never fucking seen. And his mouth ends rise in a prideful smile, not for his ability, but for your body. For the way it’s able to react to him so wonderfully. 

And he blushes when you begin to mouth the lyrics again while dipping to the seat of the amphitheater and sliding his blazer over his shoulders. 

He knows why you did that. 

And you validate his knowledge when you take his hand and lead him away from the concert, keeping close to him just to be cautious. 

You did it to camouflage the evidence of his arousal for you. 

And when you walk by the guy, you let go of his hand. Throw both middle fingers in his face. “You wish you had someone to leave with, huh?” 

The fucker puts his dirty hand on you, stopping you from walking away, and Jungkook doesn’t fucking hesitate. Like a bolt of lightning, he grabs his collar and fumes in his face. 

“What makes you fucking think you can touch my girl, huh? Juk go sip na?” he snarls, shaking him, his Busan dialect impulsively spilling out, darkening his voice and the latter question—‘Do you want to die?’ He watches a tendril of challenge line his eyes with murkiness and what happens next is too fast. 

Too fast for his liking. 

Knuckles collide with his cheek and at the rapid, unexpected and jarring contact, his lip ring cuts his gums. Jungkook grunts at the twinge that overpowers the throbbing on the side of his face, metal percolating through the aftertaste in his mouth, but he doesn’t let go of the guy’s shirt. In fact, he tightens his hold. Seethes. Is about to push him off and leave before things get even uglier, but then he feels your hands on his back and his heart stops, your voice mute, despite the fact your whole face twists in fear and is smeared with harrowing emotions that he’s never seen on you. Shrinks at the sight of your wet, bulging eyes. Of one singular tear grazing your lower lashes in a caress before plopping onto the wildflower meadow of the glitter on your cheek. 

“Get back,” he tells you, despite the swelling of his own emotions at your state of mind. But you don’t comply in time, unclench your fist and step back because far too soon, in the middle of the distraction, another collision bursts in this impenetrable darkness. 

Falling into you or falling for you even deeper, he can’t tell the difference within the numbing pain and his temper coaxes his exceedingly too easy tears to blur his vision. You don’t topple back on your hands, for Jungkook catches you in time with a strength that you somehow help him remember that he possesses. From the force of the guy’s jab, he was only pushed into you, but it doesn’t diminish the grave mistake he made. 

One he will pay for. 

Straightening you, Jungkook guides you towards the edge of the amphitheater and you step back, at last, startled. Turning around, he swings his fist into the guy’s face and he whimpers like a little bitch. 

One hit for your dignity. 

A second one for your tears. 

And the guy would’ve received a third and a fourth one had he not been held back by different pairs of arms all of a sudden. But he shakes them off. Pushes the guy back to his seat. He lands awkwardly on his tailbone with a hard thud and moans in pain. Suits him right for thinking he’s allowed to touch you, make you cry and remain unharmed. 

Jungkook shakes his head, his chest rising with heavy breaths and numbing, adrenaline-infused fury. “Sit here and keep your fucking hands to yourself, gaesaekki. Who the fuck do you think you are, making my girl cry by hitting me?” 

The music cuts out and the rapper hollers. Jungkook turns around and finds all of the attention of the audience and the headliner on him. Doesn’t want to put you on the spot like that, so he rolls his eyes in annoyance, finds your rounded ones and tips his chin further towards the exit, signaling to you to walk that way, so no one gets to look at you. You’re still standing by the edge of the amphitheater with your tear-stained cheeks and his heart aches, though once he sees that you’re covered by the shadows, he lifts a palm towards the stage and strides off, placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you towards the grassy hill. 

People are fucking testing him and he’s not in the mood. Not in the slightest. 

He’d go with his original plan—take your hand and run with you to his car, but he needs to cool off. His anger is sapping all the delight he gained from your microcosm of joy and he doesn’t want to ruin the night more than he already has. Jungkook curls an arm around your neck, tugging you flush to his side as you strut together with no one around. Lifts your chin so he can inspect how you’re feeling on your face. 

Your cheeks are glimmering, damply, carmine in the yellow light, accompanied by the faint burn of the stars up above, but your eyes have lost their great spark and you’re no longer beaming. They trace over his deadened cheek and mouth and you whimper, stopping dead in your tracks and burying your face in his chest. You wrap your arms around his middle, a hand stroking his back—and Jungkook feels himself drifting to a state of coma. The rapper’s lines decline the harder you nuzzle your face in his mesh-clad pecs and he can’t move his own hands, can’t hug you back, his panic cascading down his sternum, which he senses your warm weight upon. A ringing noise fills his ears, but he can’t wilt. He has to put you first and make things right. 

But his body doesn’t listen. 

He wills strength into his muscles, lifting his head towards the unmerciful heavens and letting your voice sound out his prayer. You evidently need physical support and emotional reassurement and he can’t give that to you out of his own weakened will. Not when he needs it so despairingly and eminently because he’s hollowed out on the inside. Not when he can’t hear a damn thing owing to the ringing in his ears. 

He can’t ask you for help, so he lets you pray through his heart to his father’s God. 

But nothing happens.

Radio silence. 

White noise. 

A feeble, miniature whine loosens from him. He’s not sure if you heard it and he hopes you didn’t, and for that sole reason—he does the unthinkable. 

He begins to pray with his own voice. 

Because there’s nothing else to do. 

Give me strength. To be there for her and not mess this up more than I already have. Fix me for her and help me make this night better for her. 

The tiniest of lights against your face unbolts ajar in him, vines of the flowers of mitigation blooming from that sliver of open space—right into his arms that abruptly lift and wrap around your shoulders, pulling you as close as humanly possible. 

The ringing lessens. 

And then his lips move. 

He kisses your forehead, dwelling there for a moment, basking in the fact that his prayer worked, and mentally, he ejects the trepidation and agitation away and out of his system, though the fear loiters in his ribcage. The fear that the mistake he made is unfixable. And there’s no thrumming of the bass to distract it. 

What’s worse, his lower regions still ask for a release. He might not be as hard as he was, but the pressure of an ungratified arousal still palpitates in his groin. The unlit disorder of his feelings encourages the blood to pump his cock erect, slowly, and his breath quivers—as well as his body. 

The shakes are back. He knows them, intimately, from his past relationships. Feels the long-gone ghost of abandonment catching up to him—and he fears, terribly, that you’ve somehow learned its ways and you’re about to use them on him because of the way he ruined your night. Cover him from head to toe until his mind numbs and he forgets, foolishly, the direction to his home. 

To solitude. 

He lets go of you and nudges you towards his car. Lets you walk the rest of the short way. But he notices that your forehead, the place he poured his frail love upon, is smudged with blots of blood, the little stars on the arches of your brows crooked and devalued. He’s barely able to get out a cigarette out of his pack and place it in the center of his parted lips, his heart cracking and turning painfully. Though, somehow he does it—he gnites it to life, takes a big drag and hides his hands behind his back. Hides his shakes away from you. Because it’s easier to ruin yourself than it is to give. 

You don’t know about them. And in the four months he’s been dating you, he didn’t have a reason to tell you about them. Thought they were lost for all eternity, the tables turned—them forgetting about him. 

But now he realizes how naive he was. Begs his shoulder to stop trembling from the impact of his deeply-embossed issues. Wishes they were as beautiful as you when you gaze back at him with the weight of your love and he feels it, swiveling to lean against the side of his car. 

It’s a life jacket that straps him down. Abates his shakes. And he’s able to take another drag, pursing his lips in a small ‘O’ when he exhales the smoke, so it doesn’t get near you. 

Your hands are behind your back, too. They support your tailbone against the solidness of the vehicle. It reminds him that he’s glad he hurt the guy, but now he wishes that you weren’t such a delicious brat because he could’ve made you happier and pinker with the amount of orgasms he would’ve given you. Would’ve driven you home and washed you clean. Would’ve made you a late night snack to bed and held you while you replayed the songs in your head. 

Nevertheless, it’s him who needs to be held. 

Foolish, his sensitivity. Another thing you don’t know about. And he’s not too sure, at this very moment, if he’s able to let you in this closely. Let you hold him and stop, ultimately, his shakes. The fear of possibly letting that happen, only to get left behind after, paralyzes him on the spot and even though he can’t breathe, he still manages to flick the ash off his cigarette and puff on it, desperately. Needs the smoke to hold him down, mollify the raging disorder in him—the macrocosm that is too gritty and stony for your delicate feet. 

He allows a full, audible sigh to leave him and he hangs his head, but he shouldn’t have done that. 

Because he divulged to you how fucked up he is. 

You lift a hand to him. “Come here, Oppa.” 

But he can’t. He can’t get close. His legs are numb and the thick-soled boots his feet are shod in are too heavy. His fear keeps them planted that safe distance apart. And Jungkook plays it cool. Licks his lips, lifts his head and sucks on his cigarette. Feels something dripping down his jaw and he wipes his hand on the bone. His cheeks hollow out and the smoke gets in his eyes, stinging them, blurring the spots of blood on his fingers

A different type of wetness coats them now. 

“You wanna go home?” he asks, then cringes at his stupid words. The smoke makes zig zag patterns in the air as his hands shake harder. And then the breath he takes is too difficult. His chin wobbles, the tears rush in and he can’t stop it. “They’re still—” A soft sigh, a whimper. His breathing speeds up because it seems as though his lungs ask for too much air and he can’t inhale enough of it. The tears threaten to pour out and crown his fear. Ruin his life. But he keeps going as if nothing is happening. “Making hot dogs in that food stand over there. The night’s not over.”

And then he’s sobbing, sinking to his knees as his legs give out under all that weight of his issues compressing him. The cigarette burns on the concrete, as abandoned as he soon will be. And his hands feel the rough material of his jeans, needing something to bring him back to a painless reality. He’s tasting blood and the fumes of the smoke and then he sees your sneakers in front of his knees, the pink Calvin Klein shoes that he bought you last week, and he sits back, feels his head being lifted, feels himself being pushed to a point of absolute submission. 

And that’s not something he’s able to stop either. 

You sit down on his thighs, sinking your fingers behind his ears and into his hair, forcing him to look at you and he has to blink multiple times in order for his sight to clear up. Sees, while he whimpers pathetically, his bloodstained, fearful girl seeing him. The real him. The flawed, broken him. 

“Gguk, Ggukie, what’s happening? Talk to me, baby, please.” 

He only sobs. Can’t get a word out. Because you’re here and you’re going to leave him—now that you’ve seen that he’s not a half of the man you pertain him to be. That he’s weak, pathetic and emotional. That he has problems that he doesn’t like to talk about. Unresolved issues that will affect you and guide you out of his life. 

You press him to your neck, holding him to you, and you shush him, gently, rocking him from side to side. Run your wet hand up his hair on the back of his head while the other one rubs large circles on his back. The light opens wider in him—and as he listens to the lullaby of your voice, it distracts him from the fear. It stills the ringing in his ears and blesses his arms with strength that he uses, without thinking, to wrap around you. 

Something lukewarm plops onto the side of his aching cheek as he, little by little, calms down, and he realizes it’s your precious tears. The salt to his wound. 

You’ve cried too much when you should’ve been laughing so hard that you’d be sick from it. 

“What happened? Tell me.” 

Your hand caresses his bad cheek, careful around the bump that your feather-light touch traces, and it’s how he finds out it’s even there. He finds out his bleeding is from his mouth because you wipe at it and clean your fingers on your dress. And then you’re back to stroking his hair, your long fingernails scratching, tenderly, his scalp, spreading alleviation down his body. 

You’re patient and gentle, tolerant and kind, despite the fact you deserve an explanation and he’s unable to give it to you. 

It’s what makes his rationality snap back to normalcy and he tugs your dress down, withdrawing from you and helping you stand to your feet. He’s here to make your night better, not unleash his problems at you. He takes your purse dangling from your hand, replacing it with his palm, and hauls you towards his car. 

But you stay put and he bounces back to you as if he were on a leash. 

And maybe he is—because you stayed at the horrendous scene of his worst. Bound to you in a way that he’s too drowsy to comprehend. Even his fear is tired, scurrying away to some shadowed corner of his soul, instead of attacking him and remaking the scene. 

“Give me my purse back and let me buy you that hot dog,” you say, with a hint of a remarkable harshness that makes him submit to you on a higher level. Something positive that he can’t pinpoint breezes through his clavicles and he wipes his knuckles across his eyes, shyness encasing him like steel—like a shield, giving him the hope that maybe, just maybe, he can overcome this with you. 

You didn’t leave. You didn’t disappear. You didn’t wrinkle your nose. 

You held him. Cleaned the blood off his mouth. Put him, somehow, back together like a puzzle piece. Knew how to do it without needing to look at the full picture. 

He hands you the chain strap of your purse—and it’s more of a symbol of his submission to you. Of the acquiescence and the meekness that you seeped into his pores by your touch. And, oddly, he feels whole. 

His walls are broken down, but he feels whole. Confident, soft, and manly. 

Because he has you and you’re here to take care of him. 

You’re quick on your feet as you yank him by the two of his fingers. He follows behind you, but all he can look at is your pendulous, brown, leather purse, suspended from your small hand, and how that shift of the dynamic in yours and his relationship occurred by that exchange. How it’s felicitous, pretty and sturdy. How he can come back to it and remember it—if he ever wavers. Remember that it’s the cure to his shakes. 

Letting himself be taken care of by you. 

The festival has ended and the ladies at the food stand are packing up to leave. It overwhelms him how much time his issues have stolen, but when he watches you go from nice to bratty in a millisecond, convincing them to make that last hot dog from him because he feels faint and needs some greasy food in order to get home and they comply, his love for you rises sky-high. Your own expression of love for him tidies up the debris from his broken walls and he’s so warm all over that he feels as though he’ll explode. 

You pay for the hot dog and leave a huge tip, thanking them with a smile that makes his heart quiver in a way that is pleasant, good and merciful. You hand it to him and it’s another exchange that wets his eyes, that makes him dip to your mouth and give you a chaste kiss that you more than deserve. You coo, deeply, into the kiss, and it’s a sound that he’s never heard from you. A dominant, prideful sound that stirs the butterflies in his stomach that carry your name on their wings to beat so ferociously that he can’t breathe. 

In a different way now. Pleasant, good and merciful. 

You walk away from the stand and sit with him on the sidewalk. Jungkook lets you have the first bite, sliding your leg over his as he holds the hot dog to your mouth. People are exiting the amphitheater in hefty crowds, but he doesn’t care. Can’t peel his eyes off of you as you open your mouth as wide as you can and take a big bite, whining and fanning your mouth due to how boiling hot it is. He can see the half chewed up sausage on your tongue and if he didn’t love you, he’d look away now, but he can’t because he does love you and your secret, indecent ways enthrall him enough that he can’t help but to kiss you again. Kiss the ketchup and mustard off of your upper lip. Clean you up like you cleaned up his debris. Blow on the sausage in your mouth a little to make you laugh and you do more than that. You chortle so hard that you nearly choke on it and he laughs, too, strangely. 

Thinks the hot dog is the best one he has had in a long time solely because you had that first bite. 

It fuels him with energy, yet he feels lightweight. Feels as though everything’s going to be okay, despite the fact those issues in him are a persisting threat and they can be triggered anytime. But something tells him you can handle it. 

You weren’t afraid to throw your middle fingers in a guy’s face because he had a problem with your public display of affection. Weren’t afraid of Jungkook’s ugliness. Weren’t afraid to fight the ladies so you could fill up his stomach with his favorite food. 

You can handle it. 

It’s all he thinks about as he drives you to his apartment with his hand on your thigh. 

And it’s all he thinks about when he kneels before you while he takes off your sneakers and lingers there, scattering kisses just below the hem of your dress. And you know where this is going because you pull him back by his hair and as he looks up at you like this, a peasant to a queen, his heart hammers so intensively that all he wants to do is cry while he makes love to you. 

He came across his salvation—in the worst of it all. 

“Let me clean you up,” you hush out, and Jungkook doesn’t understand because you already have. Internally. And outwardly all the same. He can’t postpone this any longer. He has to give back to you, give you his gratitude on a silver platter. He needs to do it because if he doesn’t, he’ll crumble. 

“No,” he rasps in a whisper, closing his mouth over the inner of your thigh, placing a singular kiss there before he returns his gaze back to you. “Let me, please.” 

Maybe you can see his desperation in the glossiness of his eyes and it awakens your pity for him, for in a blink you nod, and for the second time today—he doesn’t hesitate to do the next thing. He fists the fabric of your dress and yanks it up over your tummy, nuzzling his nose into your clothed mound. Pink, like your sneakers. 

He inhales you. Inhales the beginning of your arousal—and the beginning of a brand new scene that will color his life in a soft manner. 

Dragging the waistband of your panties down your legs, he tosses them on top of your shoes. Yearns for your legs to part your royalty for him and in order for that to happen, he carries you, bridal-style, over to the white of his bedding. Pretends it’s clouds that he’s laying you down upon because he’s about to make sure he’ll bring heaven down to you. 

The heaven that helped him give back to you earlier in his worst. 

He hooks his fingers under your socks and slides them off, one by one. Makes you sit up to rid you of your dress. Ruins your ponytail in the process, but he quickly fixes it by lugging your hair tie down your length, rubbing his blood away on your forehead with his saliva-coated thumb once he places you back down. 

And it’s not an expression of his dominance, the way he disburdened you from the daytime. That has long ceased to exist in him since that exchange. 

It’s an expression of his servitude to you. 

Of his lessening and your heightening. 

And it’s pleasant, good and merciful. It doesn’t feel as though he’s giving all of himself. On the contrary, it feels as though he has just discovered his true self. 

He won’t forget the address of his home because he’s not staying over anywhere. 

He is at home. 

And your folds revealing your royalty as he spreads your legs is the feeling of homeliness. His mouth on your warm, swollen clit is the epitome of all domesticity and the only thing he can fear at this very moment is his future homesickness if he rips his mouth off your cunt. 

And you getting wet so easily just from being taken care of like a queen confirms and validates all that he’s feeling. 

And he lets you know. 

Peasants are savages and he eats your pussy like it. Sucks on your clit with a verve that surprises him and makes his cock tight uncomfortably in his pants, especially when you make those deep, guttural noises of yours. You’re not the soft girl he knew that omitted swear words in her favorite filthy songs. You’re a vulgar woman, rolling her hips into his mouth as he lets you use his tongue. 

And he stops—just to beg for those words. 

“Let me hear you swear for me, please.” 

You whimper, flopping into the mattress, only to raise your torso using your elbows. You grip the hair on the back of his neck and hump his mouth, but then you suck in a breath and draw back, sobered up all of a sudden. 

“Does your lip hurt?” you ask, rounding your brows in pity and Jungkook’s heart quickens at the portrayal of your care towards him. His senses flick to that faint throbbing on the side of his pierced lip and he perceives that he forgot about his physical pain. His cheek throbs as well, but it’s all bearable. 

You help him remember. 

“It doesn’t hurt, baby.” 

But the hand that gripped his hair slides over to his lip, caressing it with a thumb. “But it’s swollen. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

He also remembers that he was bleeding from the same place and he checks your folds if he spattered them. With the same digit, he runs it over them, finding no taints of it. Sends a quick, internal thank you to God. 

You’re pure—he doesn’t want to mar you. 

“You’re not hurting me. You’re saving me,” he utters without a breath, the words more raw than anything he’s ever said to you, alongside his first, secretly sensitive I love you. And while he doesn’t let his lungs lift, you inhale all of the air for him, wafting it over him as you pout ever so slightly. And then you caress him—the good side of his face and he does something he’s never expected to do. 

He invites you in. 

Rests his head on the apex of your thigh while you continue to brush your hand in circles. Over his cheekbone, his temple, long strands of hair and ear. An ouroboros of love so unsullied and intact that the world’s upcoming destruction could never afflict it, never even come near it. Jungkook pushes your leg back and darts out his tongue. Mirrors your circles over your clit and the gentleness he uses to do it with pull such alluring moans from the bottom of your throat that he’s nearly at the peak of his own orgasm. 

And it just makes him hungrier. 

He turns you over to your side and closes that leg of yours over his head. Flattens his tongue over your clit and eats it like his life depends on it, one hand holding yours while the other slips to your heat, rubbing the hole until you go mad. And he’s not holding your hand to keep you bound. He’s holding your hand to keep his sanity and not come in his pants like a boy. 

You move your hips so his fingers enter you and you scream out at the sudden fullness. Jungkook drips in sweat, your walls slowly stretching around him sending tingles down his spine, and he’s moaning when you fuck yourself on his digits. 

It doesn’t take long for you to come. 

It is the final piece to your own puzzle and your orgasm thunders through you, the swear words tumbling out of your mouth like refreshing raindrops. You interweave them into his name, adorning it, making it prettier, and Jungkook is so overwhelmed with pleasure that all he can do is suck on your clit until you convulse so hard that you can’t take it anymore.

You may have lost your spark earlier, but now that you’ve come so magnificently, you’ve become it. The star of light isn’t something that gets attached to your eyes whenever you’re happy anymore. 

You’re the queen of all firelights and constellations. 

He lets you lie on your side as he hauls himself up to face you. He touches your skin besprinkled with the beads of perspiration, kneading the fleshy parts and ending up at your neck. Your eyes are closed when he reposes his head on his pillow besides yours and he detects his pleasure creating a new kind of joy within him, one that etches a lopsided smile on his face. 

You said the words for him while your orgasm coursed through your body. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Thank you,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you with a certain roughness that makes you whine and withdraw. You give him a playful dirty look, fragrant with your love, and Jungkook’s smile deepens. 

“Gentle,” you reprimand, fluttering your eyes back shut. “Don’t be a masochist.” 

He laughs through his nose, his heart constricting, and he kisses you with the gentleness you spoke of just to show you he can do it. 

You hum in appreciation and Jungkook thinks this must be the best day of his life, despite all. 

“There we go,” you praise, sleepily. “Gentle, so your boo-boo doesn’t hurt.” 

He caresses your face in circles in your fashion, watches you visibly relax and your eyes close all the way, your eyelashes brushing against him. His sleep-kissed queen. 

“You wanna sleep?” he asks, fondling the shell of your ear. He doesn’t mind if you’re too tired to take him; he’s willing to study the way your mouth parts and lets out long, restful breaths as you drift off to dreamland. 

He thinks it would be an honor. 

Everything had changed. The way he sees you, the way he loves you, the way he senses yours and his connection. The pupils of his eyes have been purified and he’s acknowledging himself with the ins and outs of his own relationship. 

Everything is new. 

You shake your head, humming out a sound of disagreement. “No, give me a second. You made me come really hard.” 

He nods, even though you can’t see him, and he sifts his fingers through your hair. Trails his kisses from your cheek to your neck and shoulder, dwelling there as you recuperate from your intense orgasm.

And then you’re swinging your leg over and straddling him. Your lids are so heavy from your little eye-shut that he silently coos at you, but your tiredness doesn’t stop you from mouthing kisses down his mesh-clad chest. From unbuckling his belt and freeing him from his pants. The mesh shirt is the only thing you keep on him. You bunch up its hem in your fist, stabilize his cock with your other and you swallow him. 

Not all the way, though. 

You rid him of his sanity because you pop your mouth, over and over, on the tip of his manhood. He feels the sound deep in his groin, right beneath your hand, and his chest can’t help but to shudder with each suction, his face scrunching. He unabashedly whimpers for you and you like his noises so much that you give him what he never asked you for. 

You do take him all the way. 

And your throat is your scent floating through the air of yours and his home. 

Heady, oriental and feminine. 

You slobber all over him, running your tongue sideways upon the veins along his length and Jungkook slinks in and out of his conscience. The pleasure you’re blessing him with brings him to a rose garden when you gag around him. The pink petals tickle his stomach, encouraging his shudders, and all he sees is you in the middle of that garden. A mighty statue of its queen—with a mouthful of cock. 

And then he has to physically pull you away from him because if he felt the tightness of your throat one more time, he’d be spurting ropes of cum down your esophagus. 

You’re feral, staring him down with a maddened smile, returning to your original position on his hips. And as delighted as he is to have you be in charge, he remembers something. 

He hasn’t put a condom on. 

“Wait.” 

Jungkook holds your waist as he rummages in his bedside table and once he finds the package he was looking for and rattles it, he finds it empty. Cold sweat trickles down the back of his neck, but he remembers something else as well. 

“Did you not put it in your purse?” he asks, the scene where he hands you the last square of the rubber for you to keep in your purse in case you get in the mood during the festival shooting out before his eyes. 

You nod. “Yeah, I think so. Can you go get it?” 

He sits up with you and kisses you, gently, prolonging the kiss until you whine and he thinks twice before provoking you. He can’t help it—you just keep saving him. 

Walking through your corridor, he sees your pink sneakers first, embellished with your panties of the same color. A smile tugs at the aching corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t mind. Thinks it heightens the experience. Bending to pick up your brown purse that he set beside your shoes, the time seems to slow down as he’s reminded of the exchange out there in the countryside. The shift of dynamics that liberated him. Jungkook grows emotional, his feelings liquifying and prickling his eyes. 

And it’s automatic and absolutely instinctual—the way he dips his mouth and kisses the leather material. 

Gently. 

Opening it, he fishes out the white square and hangs your purse on the hook among his jackets. Gives it a long, meaningful look before he returns to you. 

And you’re the one who wants to put it on him. You’re so diligent, tugging the peak of the rubber multiple times so you’re unequivocally certain that you did it right. And when you tug him, he whimpers so inferiorly that you emulate his hunger. 

You depict it so eloquently when you fight through your residual overstimulation and sink down on him, little by little. And the more inches your walls squeeze around, the more his new role settles within him. 

Peasant with his queen. 

You ride him like it. 

You bounce on him with such hard thuds that it provokes the pressure in his groin. His balls tighten so rapidly and the cinematic view of your breasts slapping against each other doesn’t really help slow down the incoming explosion of his orgasm. A glistening ring forms around his cock from your slick—and Jungkook genuinely considers, right here, right now, buying you a promise ring that will be an eternal reminder of this sublime salvation. 

And you’re as aware of the shift as he is because once you reposition your weight onto your feet, you pin his hands back and use them as leverage. Intertwine your fingers with his. His vision gets filled with spots of white. You clamp down on him with each stroke and even though he can’t move, he feels unshackled. There’s no ending to his moans. He’s so close, the pressure deepens in his groin, and he needs one more thing. 

One more thing and he’s done. 

“Kiss me,” he rasps, and you slow down, crying out, your orgasm catching up to you just the same, but he needs your attention, so he begs. “Please, baby. Kiss me.” 

Lowering yourself onto your knees, you lean forward. “Fuck, I love it when you beg. I’d give you anything you ever wanted.” 

His stomach spasms. Your nipples sail over his chest and you shudder, the mesh fabric stimulating you, and then you’re swirling your tongue around the arc of his open mouth. 

Teasing him, like the vulgar, bratty woman you are. 

Extra careful around the lip ring and his swollen flesh, healing it in a way. 

Jungkook whines your name. “Please.” 

You kiss him just once, but he needs more. Lifts his head off the pillow, chasing your mouth. You begin to swirl your hips in circles on the tip of his cock, just like your tongue, and the intense pleasure he gets from it forces him to bang his head back. 

You go for his neck. His collarbone. His nipple. 

And Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. 

His orgasm bursts in his groin and all the roses in the garden swell with freshness. He imagines he’s filling you up, instead of the condom and it elevates the momentous shocks of the explosion descending down all of his nerve endings. He hiccups and that’s it for you. You let go of his hands to massage your clit and you follow him out into that garden, his name and curse words trickling out of your mouth that lowers to his in a final, years-long kiss. 

His last rope oozes out of him at the feeling of your soft, wary tongue and he wants to weep due to the density of your care. More shrubs of roses bloom around your statue in that garden—and once again, he can’t peel his eyes off of you. 

Can’t stop brushing your hair back to see more of you. More of your rose-flushed complexion. More of the spark of your being that irradiates you from within. More of your care and love. 

And you give it to him. 

You wash out the dried blood on his face in the shower. Brush his teeth with extra care, which makes it more than difficult for him to stifle his tears. He lets you be a witness to his sensitivity and you welcome it, cradle it, hold him while the toothpaste foam numbs his achy lip. And it scares his fear away, most peculiarly. 

You hold him in bed, too, amidst the crisp, flower-scented linen of his fresh bed sheets, and you apologize. 

“I’m sorry for what happened tonight. If I hadn’t said a thing, you wouldn’t have ended up bruised and swollen,” you croak out, shifting the cold compress lower on his face, and you break into tears that trigger his. He had wished you weren’t a brat, but for a far different reason, and he tells you. 

“It’s an honor to get punched in the face for you.” He smiles through his tears and you sigh, removing the cold compress. “But I did wish things ended differently. I wanted to fuck you in my car. Keep the window open so you would hear your favorite rapper. But if things went according to my plan, you wouldn’t have healed me.” 

You sniffle, your eyes rounding at the onrush of your tender emotions, and Jungkook watches the waterfall of your tears. His own flows and mingles with yours, joining in unity. 

“What happened to you when we left?” you ask and Jungkook knows he wouldn’t avoid this question for long. Deems you deserve to know because of all what you’ve done for him. And he readies himself, pausing before he bares himself, fully, to you. 

“I got into panic mode because I blamed myself for ruining your night and…” he trails off, aware of the fact he needs to be more specific, and he takes a deep breath, wiping his tears with one hand before slapping it back on the duvet. “I have a constant fear that the people I care for will eventually leave me,” he explains and a wisp of pride envelops his bones for managing to get those words out for the first time in his life. You snuggle closer to his side, placing your head on his shoulder, and he gazes down at you. His fingers find your ear on their own and it comforts him enough, to touch you like that, that he’s able to continue. “I got left behind a lot of times in my past, which is why I swore off love. It just hurt too much and I stopped having the capacity for it. And when we left the concert, I thought you’d leave me, too, after what I’d done.” 

You press the cold compress back to his cheek. “I could never leave you, you’re mine,” you whisper, and another stream of tears soaks through the dish towel wrapped around frozen vegetables. Jungkook doesn’t take your words for granted. He puts great meaning to them and hides them, safely, in his sternum. “And you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t ruin my night. It was all me and for that I’m sorry.” 

He squeezes your arm. “Don’t be sorry,” he says and means it. Lifts his head and plants a cold kiss to your lips. 

Gentle. 

“I love you, Ggukie. It’s me who should be fighting for you now.” 

Jungkook laughs through his nose. “No, I’ll keep protecting my queen.” One more kiss, gentler. “I love you,” he adds and means it. 

And he falls asleep like this. With you clinging to the side of his body while keeping the cold compress intact and unmoving with your forehead. One that he removes in the middle of the night and warms up the iciness of your skin by smothering it with his body heat. 

Returns to the rose garden and gapes at the statue of you, hand in hand with you—as a changed person, a sensitive, flawed and submissive person that is loved and accepted. 

Finds it hard to believe even in his dream. 

And you’re there when he wakes up. 

Drooling, indecent and vulgar as you are. And he wouldn’t want anyone else.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hobiberrystuff, @kam9404.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[nisuna]

Need more yuuji smut!!

So hear me out-

bestfriend!yuuji finding your depressed ass in the park while it's raining and you're soaked. So he takes you home and take care of you and puts you to sleep in jis clothes.

Then wakes you up by eating you out and then .. you know.. the rest of the stuff

Holy shit am I in my angst era? 😭 Yuji is 100% my comfort character, so this was very nice to write. He's so boyfriend oml I love him so much<3 I don't even care if this does well or not. I really needed this, tysm for the idea!!<3

⚠️ If you or anyone you know struggles with their mental health or has thoughts like these, please look up your local s*uic*de prevention hotlines. Everybody deserves to get help, and everyone deserves to live. It might not always be as easy as in my little story, but please look after yourselves, I love you all so much and thank you all for all of the love and support🫶🏻 As someone who's been struggling with their mental health ever since their early teens I can say that I definitely can't speak for everyone on this matter, but maybe some will find comfort and familiarity in this

TW: angst, s*icid*l ideation, mentions of declining mental health, hurt and comfort, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, body worship, nipple play, body appreciation, mating press, confession, a lot of crying, this is so dear to my heart, supportive!bff!yuji

~2,8k words~

<3masterlist<3

--------mature themes ;strictly 18+ MDNI-----------

Everything has been fucked lately. Your job sucks, school isn't going great, your social life is almost nonexistent, your family is a mess and you just want some peace and calm. You've been home constantly, but you just can't stand it anymore, which is exactly why you went outside for some fresh air. And as if the universe was giving you the middle finger as well, it started raining. But you just couldn't be bothered anymore. Life sucks and your mental health is declining. So you don't even flinch at the rain hitting your lowered head. You don't care that your clothes are soaked at this point. You just sit there and take it. You've been sitting here for what feels like hours. There has been multiple nosy on lookers that passed by mumbling. Some of them showed concern, but some of them were threw disgusted looks at you and assumed you're some kind of junkie that's loitering around in their peaceful park. You couldn't care less, nobody was actually brave enough to approach you anyway, so you let them talk.

It's getting cold, but you can't bring yourself to move. You're soaked and it's getting dark, but you feel like you have nowhere to go. You're starting to feel numb, your hands and feet are cold and you almost can't feel them anymore. This is actually quite nice, you're neither sad nor mad, you feel empty, but it's not uncomfortable like it usually is. You feel calm, you're not worried. You think that freezing to d*ath might actually be a good way to go. It would be like falling asleep without having to ever wake up again. For the first time in weeks you felt yourself smile. You've made up your mind, nobody will miss you anyway so why bother. But as you were about to lie down, you heard a familiar voice screaming your name.

"What the hell-", you thought to yourself as you sat back up and looked around. You didn't have to wait long before seeing a familiar figure run towards you.

"Y/N!!! Where are-? Oh my god there you are. I looked everywhere for you. What are you doing?", he reached out to grab your shoulders, only for you to flinch away.

"Yuji, what are you doing here?"

"Well, you weren't picking up my calls and I got worried." When you didn't give him an answer, he continued, "Are you alright? Whoa you're soaked and my god you're ice cold c'mon let's get you home. I don't want you to get sick.", he grabbed your hand, trying to get you off that bench. But you didn't budge.

"Y/N? What's wrong c'mon let's go-"

"No, I'm fine, really. Just leave me be."

"What are you even saying? How could I? You are in no condition to be left alone. It's freezing and you're soaked c'mon let's go home-"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE GODDAMN IT!", you screamed and felt tears leave your eyes. Shit. When you reached up to wipe away at your eyes, Yuji stopped you and wiped your tears with his sleeve instead.

"Y/N I don't know what's going on, but please let me help.", he knelt down, squeezing your trembling hands and giving you a warm smile.

"Why do you care so much?", that came out way too wobbly for your liking.

"Why do I care? Y/N, you're my best friend of course I care. How could I not? Look at you."

You were at a loss of words, so he continued. "Is it okay if I touch you more?" Nod. As soon as you gave him the okay he pulled you into a tight hug. It took you a bit to relax, but you eventually gave in and let your emotions run wild. You were shaking, crying loudly in his embrace. All the built-up tension of the past weeks came flooding out, but he was there to catch you. He held you close as you let go. He didn't say a word until you calmed down a bit.

He pulled away to take a look at your puffy face. "Let's go over to mine, hm? What do you say?"

"Fuck it.", you thought as you nodded and got up.

"Want me to carry you?"

"No, that's embarassing. I can walk alright.", you huffed.

"Don't worry, it's late. Nobody will see."

"Okay."

After he wrapped you up in his jacket, you got on his back and let him carry you to his apartment. He's so warm and smells really good. You subconsciously nuzzled your face closer to him. Falling asleep like this would be way nicer than alone. You thought of that as you closed your eyes and hugged him tighter.

Luckily, he only lived a couple blocks away from the park. He was gentle when he set you down as soon as you arrived.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it.", there it was again, his sweet smile. "You should go take a bath before you get sick. I'll lend you some of my clothes." Nod.

------

You felt like a new human being after the warm bath. His clothes were also warm and smelled like him. It was oddly comforting. Has he always smelled this good? Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"Oh wow, you look better already.", he grinned.

"Yeah", you cracked a smile back at him, "I do feel a lot better. Thanks a lot."

"Of course! Now, what do you want to eat, you must be starving? How long were you out there anyway?"

"All day actually...", you confessed.

His shocked expression made you giggle as he pushed you into his kitchen.

After a good meal he said you could go sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the couch tonight. But you stopped him. "I don't want to be alone. Can you sleep with me tonight."

"Sure, I thought you needed some space and didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Can we cuddle too?"

"We can do whatever you need."

That's how you found yourself back in his arms for the nth time today. The atmosphere was calm, as you were exchanging occasional remarks while watching something. You don't know what overcame you, but you just felt so safe and taken care of that you leaned in for a kiss. However, you quickly pulled away when you felt him stiffen up and not kiss you back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. God, I'm so stupid. You probably hated that. Shit, please don't hate me-"

"No, please calm down, it's alright. It's not that I don't like this. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"You're in a very fragile state right now. I don't want you to do something you might regret."

"But I'm sure, I really want this-"

"Sleep it over. Just one night and if you still feel like it tomorrow I'm down. I'm here for you. We can cuddle all you want, though. I just don't want to take advantage of you."

You shot him your biggest pity pout and when that didn't work you gave in. "Alright, alright, I guessss.", you huffed and fell into his embrace. Both of you didn't talk much after that, there was a bit of tension, but you didn't act on it. When you finally drifted off to sleep it was enveloped in his warmth and smell.

You haven't slept this well in a long time. And you definitely haven't been woken up this nicely in a long time, either.

After such a good night's sleep you didn't expect to wake up to your best friend between your thighs, lapping away at your pussy.

"Hi, good morning", he rasped, morning voice heavy. "You just looked so cute wiggling around in my arms and when I checked you were already so wet down there. Sorry, I couldn't resist.", he said while softly kissing up your thigh.

"It's alright, let me wake up first, though ah-", you couldn't finish your sentence, because your head snapped back with a moan, as he dove back between your legs.

"Sorry, but I need this just as bad as you do. You taste so good. God, I've been missing out on this this whole time? Just lay back and let me take care of you."

You couldn't say no. Not that you were able to say anything at all with his skillful tongue and fingers working your cunt open. He made you a whimpering and sensitive mess in a matter of a few seconds.

"Shit, how are you so good?", you let out a drawn-out moan, but didn't get an answer from him. His actions spoke instead of him, as he had you cumming on his tongue soon after. Once he licked you clean he slotted his body between your legs and kissed you nice and deep.

"Mmh", you moaned against his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Tastes good, right?", he grinned.

"Shut up", you playfully hit his chest, grinnig right back at him.

"Alright, my turn.", you smiled, trying to get him to lie down only to be pushed back, as he got on top of you again.

"Nope."

"Hey! Not fair, I wanna taste you, too.", you pouted at him.

"Maybe next time. Today's all about you, I don't want you to lift a single finger. As I said, lay back and let me take care of you."

That was an offer you definitely couldn't refuse. So you gave him a nod and waited for his next move. His next move was a very welcome one, as he finally rid him himself of his shirt. You always knew he was well built from years in the gym and other sports. But seeing him like that up close made you gush. His front was mouth watering, and his arms were to die for. He was huge. You would've rubbed your legs together to ease your pain if he wasn't keeping your legs open with his body between them. You didn't even notice you were staring until he spoke up.

"You're practically drooling."

"Fuck, sorry.", you shrieked looking away.

"Don't sweat it. Oogle me all you want, I dig it.", he smiled, pulling your face back in his direction.

"Can I touch you?"

"What kind of question is that? Go for it!"

His skin's so soft, but the ripples of his abs and chest are brick hard. He let you explore his body before grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle kiss.

"My turn.", he whispered against your fingers before pulling your shirt up and exposing your tits. Your nipples were already hard from all of the stimulation earlier.

"Fuck, they're so pretty.", he whispered, grabbing one in each hand and giving them a hard squeeze.

"Shit.", you moaned, back arching off the bed and pussy rubbing against his hard cock. To make matters worse, he leaned down, licking a thick stripe up your neck and pinching your aching nipples between his fingers.

"Off. Now.", he demanded, already helping you pull the shirt over your head. You were finally fully exposed and he ate it right up. He leaned back down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and massaging your other breast. He made sure to pay equal attention to both. It felt really good, but you were getting impatient, already grinding against his hard crotch.

"Yuuji~~", you moaned at a particularly hard suck. "Don't tease. Pleasee, I need you.", you whined.

"Shit, sorry I got distracted. Wait here, I'm gonna go get the condoms."

Before he could leave you, you stopped him.

"No, wait, please don't. I want to feel you.", you said, already digging your nails in his arms at the mere thought of doing it raw.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive.", you smiled reassuringly.

"Fuck, alright. Got it.", he swore and rid himself of his boxers.

Once again you were staring. He was bigger than you thought. You definitely couldn't wait any longer. You needed him inside of you immediately.

He didn't make you wait long before he started to slowly bottom out. Your moans grew embarassingly louder with each inch that filled you up.

"Shit, you're so tight. Please loosen up, you're gonna kill me."

"Sorry, it just feels so good.", you mewled back arching and pressing your soft tits against his hard chest. "Kiss me, please~~" He immediately obliged, crashing his mouth against yours. It was so raw and messy when your tongues kept mashing together, but it just felt so right.

"I'm gonna start moving now. I'm gonna fuck you so good."

You nodded and pleaded. Your wish was his command, so he finally picked up his pace. And god, was he good with his hips. With each thrust and shift of your legs, he kept hitting you deeper and deeper until you practically saw stars. It's so cliché, but you felt like you were in heaven.

Your nails kept grazing his broad back and shoulders, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you held back. As if he had read your mind, he leaned down and whispered against your ear.

"Do it. Mark me up, it doesn't hurt. Please don't hold back."

So you didn't hold back anymore. You let your emotions run wild, exploring his body with your hands. Shyness long forgotten, as you left long red streaks all over his back, occasionally pulling him down for a kiss.

The world stood still. You never noticed before, but he has always been there for you. He was the only person that you ever felt loved by. How had you never noticed. Even if you two never said it out loud before, you loved each other. It had to be love. You felt overwhealmed as his fingers slipped between your bodies and started rubbing thick circles in your sensitive clit. Your breath hitched as the words you kept secret for far too long came tumbling out.

"I love you, Yuji. I love you so much, thank you for always taking care of me. I only have you in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Please never leave me, I need you."

If he was taken aback by your words, he didn't show it. He just pressed his lips against yours and kept rubbing and moving his hips until you came undone. And as you were moaning and arching your back, he finally answered.

"I love you, too. So, so much. I always have. I promise I will never leave. No matter what happens, I got you. Forever.", that's when the dams broke down and tears were spilling from your eyes. You just hugged him close and thanked him.

Not long after, he was reaching his limit as well. So he hoisted your legs over his shoulders and pounded away until he filled you up to the brim. All the while he was kissing your tears away and saying how good you were for him and how well you did.

When his hips finally came to a halt, he gently put your legs down and kissed you again. He was gentle when he pulled out and you winced as you felt his cum drip out of you and onto his sheets.

Immediately after, he pulled you close, hugging you like he was about to lose you and you were able to calm down a bit. But the bad thoughts came back as you whispered against his skin.

"Today was so stressful and you must've been worried sick. What if I have another breakdown. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to stress you out. I don't want to break your heart if anything happens to me."

"Y/N, look at me.", he begged, hands on your cheeks.

You finally looked back up at him, tears stinging your eyes.

"You're not a burden.", he whispered, giving your forehead a gentle kiss. "I will protect you forever. For as long as I live, I will always be here to catch you. No matter what happens. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to endure everything silently and on your own. I promise, things will get better. I will be here each step of the way. I love you so much, so please don't leave me."

You wanted to believe him, you wanted to get better. Maybe you finally could with his help. It's a big gamble, but you're gonna bet all of your cards on this relationship. After a long pause, you gave him a silent nod and burried your face in his chest, all while he was gently patting and kissing your head.

Life and everyone else might be shit, but at least you got him now. He was worth living for.

--------

If you read this far, thank you so much<3 I hope I can make some lighter and happier content soon, but I'm on a roll right now *sigh* Please stay healthy and look after yourselves, mwah

Hope to see you all very soon<3

[mattsdolll]

𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 - 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 . . ୨୧

hockeyplayer!matt x quietgirl!reader

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 . . their entire lives they've always had a strong disliking towards eachother, what happens when matt makes her cry? i've never wrote anything like this so feel free to critique ! this is soo cliché😭 ib: august by chase atlantic. enemies to lovers, somewhat forced proximity ??,kinda angst, smut, mention of panic attacks, no use of y/n, p in v, unprotected sex.

this is my first time writing semi-angst & smut so this is kinda basic and i lowkey hate this fic but i love the concept of it. more work coming soon since i'm finally out of my tumblr slump & will be more active, in honor of me back in my chase atlantic phase..

"how do we expect to be anything when we don't try to be anything?"

2.8k words

enjoy🤍

year eleven was tough on everyone, matt especially. he had always struggled with school but with hockey and midterms he was stressed. next year was graduation & everybody had to take school very seriously in the hopes they'd pass. he had a couple of friends aside from his brothers, most who he didn't speak to much. nick and chris were the few people that were keeping him sane during this period of his life, he hated it. hockey was his escape, it let him get his pent up frustration out in a healthy way. you and matt had never gotten along, as pathetic as it sounded you were "rivals".

your relationship with matt was agnostic, for no particular reason there was just a strong disliking towards you on his end - or so you thought. you were too busy doing better things in your life. you could never pinpoint why but he just couldn't tolerate you. your entire lives he just seemed stand-offish about you. about a year and a half ago, everything changed for the worse. you had gotten into a massive argument over something trivial, your memories of the fight were vague. ever since then you had ignored him and he returned the favor. he had taken a liking to one of your closest friend and you had an issue with it, believing she deserved better, she did. you could almost hear the anger coursing through his veins as he screamed at you that night

"you can't just fucking do that! i liked her and you..you messed up everything! i wish you would just-" the brunettes words echoed through your head, he was furious, frustrated and deeply hurt, you couldn't see that at the time. you wondered if you were wrong in trying to protect your friend. you wondered if he had good morals. you wondered if you made a mistake, did you make him hate you?

you were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts, your teacher calling on you to present your assignment to the class, the eyes of your classmates staring into the back of your head as you made your way to the front of the dull room. you began your presentation, a lame low effort articulation of your view on mental health until you met his gaze. the brunettes eyes pierced through your soul, that look of pure concentration was bothering you, it was somewhat troublesome, he wanted you to mess up, he knew the eye contact would make you lose focus, you pathetically stammered over your words. you forced the rest of your speech out of your mouth, returning to your seat, he smirked to himself, his eyes following your body as you walked. you wanted to crawl into a hole and die, you hated public speaking or expressing your feelings vocally, it was something you'd struggled with as a child, he knew that.

it was a cold night in august, fall dawning upon the small town. the leaves slowly dying, sweaters being worn, pumpkin spice becoming the not so new trend. one of your close friends had offered you tickets to the game tonight, held at the school's ice rink. you were hesitant. she gave her ticket to you because she had gotten sick and didn't want to put the ticket to waste. you had no plans tonight, never mind getting ready to actually leave your bed. you took a hot shower, the scorching water streaming down your body. you blow dried your hair, straightening it and tying a low ponytail, lacing a black bow around the brunette locks. you threw on baggy jeans along with a black tank top, small silver hoop earrings and white sneakers, along with a black jacket draped over your arm. you drove to the venue with heavy eyes. you touched up your mascara and lip gloss in the mirror, the remnants of your makeup from earlier still evident on your face. you made your way into the school stadium, the cool breeze of the ice hitting your skin.

the game was somewhat boring to you, you had no idea what it meant to shoot or what dribbling was, but you tried to make the most of it. there he was, only a few meters away from you. the boy skated around the ice flawlessly, the void-like pit in your stomach felt full, your insides fluttering. you couldn't help but be impressed, you had never seen him play before, you never realized he was so good. he scored a few goals, the score was 7-5. his team was ahead, until the opposing team knocked matt out of the way, causing him to tumble over, falling on the ice. the crowd gasped, the opposing team scoring three points for their goal. matt hit his mouth against his helmet, blood leaking from his lips, he skated to the bench, cleaning up. you felt suspense building in your stomach, his appearance disheveled, hair scruffy, face sweaty, you couldn't help but think he looked..different. were you enjoying this?

apparently you were, you didn't exactly like matt, you just enjoyed watching the games, the games where he was the most important player, over and over and over..seeing him get so frustrated, it was like some kind of amusing pastime. after one of the many games you'd attended. during one of the mid-season games, his team on a winning streak. he had "finally" spotted you in the crowd while on the ice, he nearly choked on his spit, seeing you watching him play, he felt a sense of cockiness rush through him, the urge to win now unbearable. he needed to prove how good he was, but why? he scored the winning point, his team cheering and celebrating, his friends lifted him up over their heads. on their way to the locker rooms. you took in the familiar sight of his disheveled, ruined appearance, drinking in the sight. he caught you staring, however, a cocky grin spreading across the boys lips. you attempted to mask your embarrassment but it was too late, he kicked off his gear in the locker room, changing everything but that hockey jersey. the short sleeved top hung off his body perfectly, the color contrasting his eyes.

"stalking me now?" he teased, sitting next to you on the bleachers, the way he sat so confidently all of a sudden, not like his usual self, his demeanor was alluring, you had never felt this way about him until now. well maybe since last month. "i wasn't stalking you, i had nothing better to do tonight" you tried to protest, he simply chuckled. "yeah? and last week, the week before..and before.." he drawled cockily, he had seen you, every game, gawking at him. how could you not have noticed? "you don't talk much, hm? didn't get taught how to communicate growing up?" you went quiet, you hated talking, you were never allowed to growing up. you had developed this "don't talk unless spoken to" mindset and it carried on into your school career, resulting in you having little to no friends. it was a very touchy subject to you and you hated how badly it got to you.

matt was only teasing, trying to make a conversation until the tears brimming your eyes almost instantly made matts cocky grin disappear, his expression now evident with worry. you felt the familiar feeling of your throat closing up, your heart began to throb harder. you couldn't even mutter out a word, you got up and headed out in fear of breaking down in front of him, the last person on earth you'd want to look weak in front of. you settled on the grass by a small garden on the school grounds outside a now locked and empty classroom.

the second you took off matt knew he had made a mistake, he rushed after you, somehow losing you in the process. he found you eventually, sitting down with your knees to your chest, calming yourself down. and in that moment, he saw himself in you. he knew how it felt, the horror washing over you as the air deflated from your lungs, your throat tightening, he hated that feeling. he knew it all too well. he needed to provide you some sense of comfort, solace from his touch. he made his way to you and sat next to you, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. "hey..breathe, you're okay." he whispered reassuring words into your ear. you weren't having a full blown panic attack like you usually would, but this was still bad. you felt the feeling slowly ease out of your body, you felt like you could breathe again. "thats it..doing so good.." he whispered into your ear, stroking your arm. his words went straight to your core, something about the tone or the resonance of his voice in that moment did something to you, you felt your inner thighs become drenched, your heat beginning to ache.

"i'm so sorry, yeah? i didn't mean to make you cry tonight, or that night last year, i liked her, a lot. she never spoke to me or even looked at me, i just wanted her. i was right there but she was busy doing other things, she was everything to me, her smile, her teeth when she smiled, her hair..that haircut, the way it shaped her face..i..i was in love, okay? and i couldn't have her." he rambled out. the things he had described were some kind of literary illusion. this "girl" he was describing was nothing like the girl he so called wanted. this "girl" he was describing didn't resemble her at all actually. this "girl" was you.

all along, he wanted you. you never wanted him back, but you wanted him now. was it too late? did you miss your chance? did he still have feelings for you? why did he ignore you for a year? your thoughts rushed through your brain scatteredly as you tried to form a single word. he tilted your face towards his, seeing that panicked expression written on your face. he wiped the tears that stained your cheeks, trying to make it up to you. you gazed up into his eyes, noticing the different shades of blue and slight haze of grey in them. you noticed the tiny freckles on his face, so slight you could only see them under the moonlight, you noticed the way his curls fell over his forehead so perfectly as if sculpted in God's vision precisely. he was so perfect. you held eye contact for a few seconds, you wished you could, taste him, savor him. you batted your eyelashes at him, and that was all it took to drive him insane; your eyes. the specks of color in them were so beautiful.

he noticed the pleading look in your eyes, as if you were begging for him to do it. it did him in. the last bit of his conscience telling him to stop fell away, and all that was left was his urge to kiss you. he got a bit closer, his hands still resting on your face as he inched his face closer to yours. he tilted your jaw and pressed his swollen lips into yours. your eyes fluttered shut, giving into his touch. the kiss lasted for what felt like hours. he prodded his tongue against you, silently begging you to let him kiss you deeper, his hands finding their way to your jaw, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue massaging yours. you felt yourself gravitating back toward the grass, him laying you down gently. his hand cupped the back of your head before you hit the ground.

it felt like sweet relief, pain and pleasure coursing through your body. you felt like you were on fire from how desperate you were for him in that moment. he hovered over you, gently kissing you. you tugged his jersey, pulling him further into you. your nails scratched down his back, almost hard enough to draw blood, drawing a guttural moan from him. he looked down at you desperately, your eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips

"i want this"

you whispered softly, finally vocalizing your wants. a new experience to you, yet it felt perfect with him. he looked down at you for reassurance. "yeah? you want this, pretty?" he cooed softly, your pussy ached. you gave a weak nod for him, giving him permission to touch you. "i want this, please." he sucked and nipped at your neck, pressing against you more, his touch gentle but eager. you writhed underneath him, the sensations throughout your nerves becoming unbearable. "matt..do you want this?" he paused briefly, staring at your face. "yeah pretty, i want this, i want you." his lips latched onto yours, trailing hot open mouthed kisses along your neck. his hips subconsciously rolled against yours rhythmically.

you felt his now hard cock pressing against your thigh, causing you to moan softly. you couldn't describe how badly you wanted him, he wanted you just as much, he was just hesitant to take you right then and there, in the middle of a garden. he wanted it to be special, but his need was overlapping his thoughts. he kissed you once more before pulling away. "need to feel you, fuck- pretty..please?" the boy begged, you nearly salivated at the sight. you gave a quick nod to which he quickly took his shirt off, hooking his fingers under the loops in your jeans, tugging them down. you quickly pulled your shirt off as well. he slowly stripped you of your clothes, leaving yourself in nothing but underwear. he groaned at the image, tugging his own pants down, his hard dick slapping against his stomach. it wasn't huge, but it was definitely big. his cock twitched in his hand as he pumped it a few times, pre-cum leaking furiously from the reddened tip.

you watched him in pleasure as he slowly approached you, lifting your hips a little. "lift your hips f'me" he mumbled, holding you in place. he pulled your panties down slowly and teasingly, you winced as the cold air hit your pussy. he rubbed his tip up and down your folds, admiring you. "such a pretty girl, hm? all f'me.." you crumbled, whimpering pathetically. a small smirk tugged on his lips as he eased into you, stretching your walls out. you groaned at the burn, it was uncomfortable but felt so good. he pulled out halfway before gently thrusting his hips into you again, letting you adjust a little. "fuck, angel youre so tight..have you never been fucked before?" he mewled, feeling you clench around him. you shaked your head weakly, pulling a desperate moan from him. he gradually picked up his pace, his cock going deeper with each thrust.

your pain faded into pleasure, small gasps leaving your swollen lips, he watched your tits bounce with each thrust, finding it incredibly endearing. he leaned his lips down to your nipple, sucking at the flesh gently. you laced your fingers through his loose locks, tugging the curls. he loved it, moaning against your breast. a string of saliva left his lips as he pulled his face up to look at you, your fucked out expression causing his cock to twitch harder. he buried his nose into your neck, speeding up more. the sound of skin slapping echoed through the halls, he panted softly. "shit, angel..'m so close..gonna cum, can i cum inside you, baby?" he whispered into your ear, how could you deny him when he begged so sweetly? you nodded, threading your fingers in his hair, the knot in your stomach beginning to unwind.

his thrusts grew sloppy, his cock twitching desperately. your walls enveloped him deeper and deeper. you gripped his shoulders, a pathetic whimper fell from his lips as his orgasm washed over him like a wave. cum spurted from his tip, painting your insides. your orgasm soon washed over you as well, both your liquids mixing at some point in the process. he slowly and carefully pulled out, looking down at you nervously. "was that okay? did i do good?" your jaw almost fell open, how could he ask that? "matt..that was fucking amazing" you mumbled softly, drawing a smile from his lips. he giggled softly, collapsing on you. he was like a whole new person, you barely recognized him. "yeah? i did good?" he giggled. you smiled sleepily. "mhm, so good."

he planted a gentle kiss to your lips, brushing a strand of messy hair out of your face. "pretty" he whispered admiringly. "can i take you home?" you nodded a little. you couldn't believe your life. you just had sex with the guy who you thought hated you for nearly two years, then again, how could you expect to be anything when you don't try to be anything?

. . .

tags !

@mattscoquette @blahbel668 @emely9274 @pearlzier @wompwomp-1

[mabelstone]

Why would you be loved?

hozier x f!reader

part two of lullabies <3 | part one | masterlist

cw: teeeeeny bit of violence at very beginning ... also 18+ ok if u are unfamiliar with me... this is my thing. this character is FICTIONAL before u attack me for sexualising THE hozier

word count: 3.2k

*i've decided i'd like this to be a slow burn... but don't worry! i will add things to keep u interested (or attempt to)

The sticky slap of their skin echoed through the room, my heart thudding loud enough in my ears to deafen the noise.

I lurched forward, grabbing the leggy blonde from the bar by her hair, yanking her off of Joe and slamming her naked body into the wall. She gasped loudly, falling onto the ground where she watched on in horror. I grabbed the nearest object I could reach - his bedside lamp - smashing the ceramic over his head, screaming in his face about how he's fucked this up for good.

Except that's not what happened.

I opened the door to the same scenario, except I didn't lose my temper and tear the two of them to shreds. My heart still pounded harder than ever, but I simply backed out into the hall without a sound. My eyes must've been something of a Tim Burton character as I walked back outside, leaving the front door wide open. I didn't even grab anything as my handbag was still over my shoulder. I dug around for my phone, finding nothing but an old gum packet, some lipgloss, and some loose change.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, running my hands through my hair. I had my phone in the bar. Did I leave it in Andrew's car? Fuck, did I leave it at the bar? I began to panic, frantically walking down the street. As if I could walk all the way back! It was at least 15 kilometres from my place. I didn't care though, continuing to pace in the cold in clothing more suited to warmer weather. I kept replaying what I saw over and over in my head. I'd usually call my mum, but...

The way his hands were digging into her skin, the way she kept repeating how good he was making her feel. I felt sick to my stomach, and the alcohol wasn't helping. I'm not sure they even saw me, but once he finished (judging by the sounds he was making, wouldn't be too long) he'd see the doors open and connect the dots.

I turned my head as I heard someone whistle from across the street, inexplicably grateful to see Andy's car. "What're you doin'?"

"Do you have my phone?" My voice sounded foreign to me, robotic and desperate at the same time. I crossed the street, heading straight for the passenger side.

"Your lifeline is right here, hence why I am," he laughed, holding my phone out to me. I just stood at the door expressionless, and he probably thought my drinks had been spiked or I'd gone mad. "You... alright?"

"Joe is cheating on me," robotically sounding again. Though saying the words out loud made it suddenly real. Joe is cheating on me.

"What?" His eyebrows shot up, dipping his head to see my face better. "What? When?"

"Like, literally right now," I laughed. I began to laugh hysterically, having to rest my hands on the top of his car to steady myself. I laughed so hard, tears began to stream down my face and my stomach hurt.

The next thing I knew, that familiar warm hand was on my back, followed by a soft, "c'mere". I turned to face Andrew, immediately bursting into tears. Real tears this time. He pulled me in close to his chest, one arm easily wrapped around my shoulders, the other cradling the back of my head. I sobbed into his shirt, likely accidentally digging my nails into his back as I clung to him. If I did, he didn't comment on it. He held me tight, rubbing soft circles into my spine with his palm. I don't know how long we stood there for, but when I pulled away, his shirt was soaked and covered in mascara.

"I'm so sorry," I gave a half hearted laugh, gesturing to the stained cotton. "I will wash it for you, I'm good at getting stains out."

"Don't be ridiculous," he smiled that poor you smile he always did, but this time it felt like a comfort as he shook his head. "You can come back to mine and shower. Then we can figure this out."

"No, no, I don't want to put you out." I protested, wiping under my eyes, undoubtedly smudging the black into my hairline. I sniffled, wiping my snotty nose onto the sleeve of my cardigan. If Joe was right about Andy being infatuated with me, I definitely just destroyed that in one simple, snotty gesture.

"I insist," he smiled, leaning against the side of the car. I was exhausted, and a nice shower in a house that didn't reek of infidelity sounded too good to reject. I nodded and climbed into the passenger seat for the second time tonight, switching on my phone to see no new messages. Maybe he didn't see me after all.

I slipped into an oversized hoodie of Andrew’s after my shower, steam on the mirror and condensation on every surface from the amount of time I was in there. I felt guilty using his water, but time slipped away from me by the time I realised. He had real shampoo and conditioner, not that pathetic 3 in 1 bullshit Joe used. I stole a hair tie and hid my messy curls in a bun. I honestly looked like a mess, but it was definitely an improvement from before. My eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Most of the alcohol had fleeted my system, so now I was just exhausted and forced to bask in the reality of the situation.

I walked into his living room where he was sat, one arm slung over the back of the couch while the other flicked through Netflix. It was strange to see him in his space, so comfortable and… domestic. No, we’re not doing this. Yet.

I looked down and saw a black border collie mix strewn across his lap. “Oh my goodness!” I swooned as I headed straight for the dog. Andy mustn’t have heard me, jumping slightly and cursing under his breath. “How rude of me. Who’s this little angel?”

“The breaking of my heart,” he began, hand over his chest as he stared lovingly down at his dog. “Elwood.”

“Elwood? Really?” I quirked an eyebrow, looking up to Elwood’s owner.

“It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful boy, I don’t understand the issue?”

I rolled my eyes, going back to snuggling the dog, kissing his face all over. “He is beautiful. Yes you are!” Elwood wagged his tail excitedly, slobbering happily all over my hands.

Andrew chuckled down at us, averting his eyes back to the TV, a soft smile lingering on his lips.

“Thanks for letting me use your shower, Andy,” I smiled, sitting beside him on the lounge, feeling like the human embodiment of the calm after a storm.

“Oh, that’s no problem at all," he grinned earnestly, playing the pilot of Breaking Bad softly in the background. He lulled his head to the side, eyes glistening in the soft golden lighting of the lamp in the corner of the room. "Want a tea?"

"Please," I nodded, Elwood now snuggled into my lap. The moment he left the room, I was left with the crushing reality of what'd just happened. The horrible sound that plagued my phonic memory, as if it were played through headphones at a deafening volume. I tried to focus on the TV, Breaking Bad had always been my favourite. It was no use, the gut wrenching ache within me only multiplied by the minute, tears welling in my eyes, daring to fall.

"I wasn't sure how you take it so I bought everything with me," he placed two tea cups onto his coffee table, along with a carton of milk and a canister of sugar.

"So adorable, you remind me of my gran," I teased, desperately trying to blink away any trace of sadness before he had a chance to see. I didn't need to burden him with any more tears.

"You know, I've been called far worse," he shrugged, taking his tea black, sitting beside me on the couch. "So I'll take it."

I hummed in response, mixing in my milk and sugar.

"So... maybe a redundant question, but, how're you feeling?"

"Well," I chuckled bitterly, sipping from my tea. "Probably feeling as you'd expect. Actually, that's a lie. I don't know how I feel honestly."

His eyes studied my features, and I deliberately avoided his gaze. His dog snored away in my lap, the TV just loud enough that any amount of silence couldn't be awkward.

"Has... anything like this happened to you?" I asked, despite the voice in my head telling me not to.

"Ehm, yeah. Not too long ago, actually," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, his chocolate curls flicking up at the ends, framing his face beautifully in the light. "We were together for three years. She was sleeping around with a friend of mine. She broke it off with me when she decided she'd rather be with him."

"Her loss," I mirrored that same pitiful look he always gave me, the slight drop in his expression making me feel guilty for even asking. "You make a mean cup of tea."

"If only she could appreciate the art of English Breakfast," he sighed, a sad smile lingering on his lips despite the sarcasm in his tone.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Andy," I sighed, tempted to reach out for him but deciding against it in fear of breaching some unspoken boundary. "I'll get out of your hair soon."

"You can stay- only if you'd like," he offered awkwardly, eyes flickering to mine as he fiddled with the handle of his cup. "There's a spare bedroom."

"No, no. You've been so kind tonight, I don't want to push it," I shook my head, misjudging the height of the coffee table, my cup hitting it with a sharp clank. Elwood startled, throwing his head back to look at me. "Sorry, buddy."

"You're not pushing anything," he laughed, shaking his head now. "It's late. The decision's all yours. But I must say, that bed might be nicer than my own."

"Quite persuasive, aren't you?" I grinned, throwing my head back against the couch, weighing up my options. Well, I can't go home. "Okay. I'll stay... if you're sure that's okay?"

"Well, because you're twisting my arm..." He joked, that bright, happy smile making its glorious return. "I'll get you a spare toothbrush and a bottle of water. You've had a big night."

"Yeah," I breathed, rubbing at my burning, no doubt bloodshot, eyes. "I am exhausted."

"Come, I'll show you to your room," he got up from the couch, extending his hand to me. I took it in mine, warm and calloused; so large, his fingers reached my wrist as he helped me from the couch. I followed behind him, the soft padding of our feet up the stairs slowly becoming the only sound audible. Elwood trailing close behind, of course.

He showed me to the guest room, nothing special, but somehow a massive comfort. A navy blue, fluffy duvet with a bedside table, a simple lamp and a copy of Inferno by Dante Alighieri atop it.

"Oh, I'll grab that toothbrush," he waved his hand as if he were finally able to dismiss the thought. I chuckled at the way he hurried out of the room, the exhaustion rippling through my body as I sat on the edge of the bed. He was right. This might be the comfiest bed I've ever had the pleasure of sitting on. I zoned out, staring at the carpet as I finally sobered up. These past few weeks had been fucked, and I knew they'd only get worse. My phone started buzzing rapidly as Andy came back into the room, a bottle of water, a toothbrush still in the packaging, and a sheet of panadol in his hands. He silently placed them onto the bedside table, both of us just watching my phone ring. It was Joe.

Against my better judgement, I picked up on the last ring, raising the phone to my ear.

"Where are you?" His voice was hoarse, unsuspecting. Idiot.

"Doesn't matter," I sighed, nauseated at the sound of his voice.

"Well, it does. I've been worried sick about you, you're meant to be home now. How would I know you hadn't been kidnapped or gone home with some creep?"

"That is ironic," I laughed, though there was no humour in my tone.

"The fuck are you on about? Get home right now." He was getting angrier by the second. Andrew could hear every word, his brows knitted together in disgust as he listened on.

"I did come home. You were a bit busy," I swallowed harshly, my voice failing me, beginning to shake.

There was silence on his end for a good thirty seconds, all air in Andrew's small guest bedroom thinning at once. "...Babe. We will get through this."

"I don't think so."

"Don't say shit like that. I love you, Y/N. We'll get through this stronger than ever. Just come home, baby. I'll make it up to you," he was speaking fast, panicked almost.

"I need some space," I replied weakly, eyes filling with tears again.

"No. I love you. Come home. Please, babe, pl-"

I hung up on him before he got the chance to manipulate me straight back into his arms, Andy watching me with a frown. Suddenly, it was all too real, and I was breaking down in front of him for the second time tonight.

He didn't say anything. I felt the bed dip beside me, his warm arm wrapping around my shoulder, pulling me in close. We stayed like that for a while - my head leaned against his shoulder as I cried, his head atop mine - until I felt like there was no water left in my body. I heaved a massive sigh, sitting up straight again.

"Oh, Andy, I'm so s-"

"You've nothing to be sorry for," he hushed me, sincerity written all over his face, kind emerald eyes revealing that he wasn't doing anything for secondary gain; he was just a beautiful soul. "Get some rest."

"Okay," I agreed, pulling back the covers with his help. I wanted him to stay, I didn't want to be alone. I wished he could've just laid with me, no meaning attached, but just to have the warmth of another to occupy the cold, empty bed. Instead I thanked him again, pulling the covers up to my chin.

"You know where my room is. I'll be there if you need anything," he smiled earnestly, flicking off the light before walking out.

Goodnight, Andy, I almost said, but sleep washed over me quicker than I could form the words.

I woke early, bathed in velvety caramel coloured sunlight, slowly beginning to register where I was. I made my way down to corridor to Andy's room, his bedroom door barely ajar. I put my ear to the door, not wanting to wake him if he were still sleeping. I heard soft pants escaping his lips, letting my curiosity get the best of me.

I gently pushed the door open, revealing the glow of his milky skin in the same light. His beautiful halo of curls sticking to his slightly sweaty forehead, his face contorted in pleasure and concentration as he worked himself beneath the covers. I couldn't suppress the noise of surprise that escaped my lips as he whimpered my name.

"Fuck-" He gasped, pulling his hand from under the cover. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Keep going," I encouraged, slowly making my way to him. Confusion plastered all over his face, he obliged, slipping his hand back under the cover. I sat before him, our eyes locked on one another as he picked up the pace. "Gooood, that's it."

His brows furrowed as he continued to worked himself, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with each swallow. I slipped into bed beside him, my hand replacing his. His breathing pattern grew irregular, every vowel of my name dripping off his tongue, igniting a fire deep in my core. I began placing wet kisses along jawline, making my way down to his neck, then his chest, then-

And then I actually woke up, heart beating at a million miles an hour. What. The. Fuck. Shame immediately coursed through my veins, burying my face into my pillow as I replayed the dream over and over until it was committed to memory. Am I an awful person?

I could vaguely hear Andrew singing along to Let's Fall In Love by Ella Fitzgerald in the kitchen, cautiously making my way down the stairs. I was disgusted in myself for even thinking of him in that way, let alone loving every shame filled second of it.

"Mornin'," I made myself known, sliding onto one of the stools at his breakfast bar.

"Good morning," he chirped, sliding a cup of coffee toward me. He had his glasses on this morning, his hair pulled back into a bun. "How're you feelin'?"

"Good," I lied through my teeth, concealing it with an enthusiastic nod. "Better, yeah." I just gave you a handjob in my dream and now I want you to pin me to the couch and make love to me all day. Oh, and I'm supposed to be grieving a near 6 year relationship, but now I'm just really fucking confused. "How are you?"

"Hungry. And I hope you are too," he grinned, revealing a big stack of pancakes he'd just cooked for us, as well as a bowl of chopped strawberries.

"I am, that looks lovely," another lie. I had no appetite. But I also couldn't say no to a man so sickly sweet. He sat beside me, soft jazz serenading us from his record player.

"What've you got on today?" He queried, plopping a pancake onto each of our plates.

"Might visit my ma, update her on... everything, I guess. Then I've gotta get my car. Maybe some clothes. Fuck, I don't even know what to do," I laughed awkwardly, taking a sip of my coffee. "You performing tonight?"

"Hoping to," he nodded, taking a bite of a strawberry. "You know you're more than welcome to spend the night here again."

"I couldn't possibly burden you for another night," I deflected, mirroring his actions and popping a strawberry into my mouth.

"You actually don't have to fight me each time, you cay just say no," he chuckled, shaking his head at me.

"I love spending time with you," I confessed, resting my hand on his arm, then retracting it just as fast. "I just don't want you to think I'm using you."

"Nonsense," he waved me off, scoffing. "It's nice to have some company. Plus, Elwood has taken a strong liking to you."

"The feeling is mutual," I laughed, breaking off a piece of my pancake for the dog happily wagging his tail by my feet. "I'm sure you have lady friends come and visit."

"Only ones who ruin their tea with milk and barely touch their pancakes," he remarked with a wide grin. I felt my cheeks turn hot at his stupid comment, finally digging in to my breakfast.

Maybe things weren't going to be so bad after all.

i don't love this... but this desperately needed an update. feel free to send requests of some stuff you'd like in the next chapter xx

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hi hi! I have a req- can you maybe please write a Megumi x reader where they get lost in a haunted house and the reader is too scared to move and Megumi helps her (as a stranger) and then it goes more from that ?

I fell in love with this immediately and needed to write that wonderful request of yours! Thank you so much darling, I'm crossing my fingers you like what I came up with 😭

Getting lost at a haunted house only to be saved by Megumi

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: After your friends dragged you into a tunnel of terror at an amusement park despite your irrational fear of creepy stuff, you find yourself lost in your own panic. Until a sudden blue-eyed boy appears and helps you out...

Warnings: your friends are shitty, Megumi is a sweetheart, reader is obviously scared of creepy stuff lol

„This is probably the worst thing you ever made me do”, Megumi mutters, annoyed by the sheer sight in front of him.

When Gojo-sensei told them about a day off, he certainly didn’t see himself going to an amusement park with Itadori and Kugisaki. He should have stayed back, he could have read the new book he just bought, enjoying the silence of empty Jujutsu High while the others were out doing whatever they want. But instead, he finds himself surrounded by crying children with their hands covered in sweets, people bumping into him with every step he takes.

What on earth is he doing here?

“You’re such a pain in the ass, Fushiguro. How about going out and having some fun instead of making it your mission to look as if somebody killed your puppy? Geez.”

“Look, a haunted house!”, Yuji cries out, his eyes glossy from sheer excitement.

“Oh, I wanna go in!”

“I don’t wanna go in”, you protest while your friends literally drag you after themselves.

To be honest, the thought of going into a haunted house alone makes you want to leave immediately. If there’s one thing you hate, it’s creepy stuff. No matter if it’s as innocent as Halloween or things like horror films based on a true story. There is nothing worse than getting jump scared, feeling as if your heart will stop beating any minute, cold sweat running down your neck. No, there is absolutely no way in hell you will step one foot into this cursed place, you’ll just wait here and get some ice cream, you’ll-

“I really don’t wanna do this”, you whine into pitch-black darkness, heavy creepy music making you feel sick in an instant.

Your heartbeat hammers against your already aching chest, palm getting so sweaty that you are unable to hold onto the hand of your friend any longer.

“Hey, where are you? I-I think I lost you guys!”

No response, no sign of life. Just you, the darkness around you and your own blood rushing through your ears.

Fuck, you can’t do this alone. Where is the emergency exit when you need it? Is there somebody else around you?

“H-hello?”

No response, no sign of life.

Panic starts to rise in your chest, disturbing screams, violent laughter and creepy music drowning your head in nothing but thick fear. You need to get out of here as fast as possible.

Your wobbly feet carry you down the dark hallway. But instead of being able to simply sprint through the tunnel of horror, you are greeted by a never-ending hallway that is that is filled with macabre clowns decorating each and every centimetre around you. There aren’t many things that scare you more than strange dolls that look like Annabell herself, but clowns…You hated them since you were a child, no matter how friendly they looked.

And these ones definitely don’t.

“Are you lost, little one?”

That voice is close, too close for your liking. You rest your eyes for a second, pretend that this deep voice that shook you to your core isn’t really there. No, this must be part of the music, a stupid joke-

“I am still here.”

Something touches your arm. Out of instinct, you widen your glossy eyes, staring straight into the maniac grin of a clown.

A real clown.

Not just a doll.

Your body react on its own, a violent shriek escaping your lips.

Run.

As fast as you can, past the clown decorating the wall, straight into nothing but darkness while this little voice inside your head can’t stop laughing about your pathetic self. How old are you? 10?

It doesn’t matter. Your frightened eyes are darted fowards, adrenaline pumping through your veins while all you can think about is stepping through that door, getting out of this living nightmare as soon as possible. You just need to push yourself a little harder, get through this dark hallway right in front of you and it will be over, you are almost there-

You see stars. Before you are even process what happens, you bump into something hard and fall straight onto the floor with your head spinning in confusion. Was is a wall, a door? No, the dim light shows you the outline of a person. Your guts turn in an instant, the horrifying face of that clown you saw seconds ago still haunting your mind. Please, not another one of these actors.

It stretches out his hand, ready to grab you.

“NO!”, you scream on top of your lungs, crawling backwards in a desperate attempt to escape those fingertips.

Megumi can’t help but stare at your puny figure in sheer disbelief. Why the hell are you so scared? And why are you here on your own? Your thick and heavy breaths hang in the air between you both, distracting him from his mission to find a way out of here after Itadori and Kugisaki ran away like some 4-year old kids.

“Calm down, I’m just trying to find my way out of here”, he calmly announces.

You blink against the darkness around you, too stunned to say a single word. That is definitely a boy with a voice that could calm down entire oceans, making your heartbeat tame down in an instant.

“Let me help you up, okay? Give me your hand.”

There it is, his big hand stretched out in front of you. Like in trance you take it, palms still covered in cold sweat when he lifts you off the ground with ease. In the dim light you aren’t able to see anything but the outline of his features, his tall and actually quite muscular frame.

“We’ll get out of here together, just don’t let go of my-“

In the matter of seconds, your whole body clings onto his arm for what feels like dear life, nails digging into his firm biceps without mercy. He can’t leave you alone here like your friends did, there is absolutely no way in hell you’ll let go of this boy.

Much to Megumi’s fortune, the room is so dark that you can’t tell the deep blush creeping up his face. You’re a girl with a voice sounding so angelic that it caught him off guard, with your breast pressed against his arm-

Oh god.

“Let’s go”, he mumbles.

He forces himself to stare in front of him, to not risk a look at you while tumbling down the dark hallway with you by his side. But the second he opens the next door filled with red lights, his gaze wanders to his left side, gets greeted by your doe eyes immediately.

Time stands still, Megumi’s heart pounding as hard as yours when all he does is staring at your way too gorgeous but frightened features. You have to be around his age, even though it’s hard to tell in that strange light. But oh your face definitely matches your angelic voice.

“Thank you for not leaving me alone”, you mumble against his arm, eyes directed towards the next door ahead of you.

“There’s no need to thank me. How did you end up in here anyway if you are this scared?”

“My friends forced me and left me after the first door on my own.”

Megumi huffs in response. Well, that definitely sounds way too familiar. When he sees these two idiots again…

“But aren’t they aware of the fact that you’re scared?”

“Everyone is. But I guess they just thought it would be funny…”

“It’s not”, Megumi replies in an instant.

“You don’t deserve this. It might not make sense to them, but you are stressed. And no friend should want to see you like this for their own amusement.”

You swallow hard, still holding onto his arm tightly. Of course you know that he’s right, that your “friends” aren’t suppose to treat you this way. But you’d never say it out loud, would never confront them.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

His voice catches your attention just before you start to panic over another set of creepy dolls laughing in the corner, his arm moving you closer to him.

“Don’t look at them. Look at me.”

When you gaze up at him again, his world stops spinning for a minute. You really seem to trust him, your hands still intertwined with his arm, your body firmly pressed against his side. You look so lovely, seem like such a nice person. It becomes more and more personal to get you out of here.

“I’m sure we are close to the exit. Focus on me, okay?”

“My name is (y/n)”, you suddenly blurt out.

“I’m Megumi Fushiguro. Nice to meet you (y/n).”

Out of his mouth, your name sounds so relaxing, so melodic. His calm voice really suits the ocean of his dark blue eyes that never break contact with yours even though he walks down the hallway with you by his side.

“I think this is the last door.”

With a swift motion, he opens it. Slowly but surely his features get light up by lantern light, the cries and screams from the amusement park ringing in your ears again. You take a look around you.

He really did it.

You made your way out of the tunnel of horror.

“Thank you so much for helping me out”, you mutter, pulling him into a tight hug before you are able to stop yourself.

What would have happened if he didn’t find you, if he didn’t keep a cool head and lead you through the right doors? You rest your head against his broad chest, heartbeat calming down completely. How lucky you are to have met him.

“Oh – uh…No problem at all”, he mutters.

Megumi has to tell himself over and over to keep a straight face, to not allow himself to turn redder than the devil himself. But you hold onto him so tightly, so thankful for nothing but the fact that he guided you out of a haunted house.

“Who’s that girl, Fushiguro?”

You let go of him immediately, eyes darting towards a girl with short brown hair coming your way while dragging a pink-haired boy behind her like a bag of trash.

“After you left me alone in there, I met (y/n) and she helped me finding a way out.”

“Nice to meet you (y/n)!”, the other boy greets you instantly, a kind grin plastered on your face.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have helped him, Fushiguro fits just right in a tunnel of horror”, the girl comments dryly.

“There you are! We thought the clowns already ate you up!”

Oh no, not now, not in front of him and his friends. You want to sprint away, to hide yourself from your “friends”. But instead, all you can do is stare blankly why both of them approach you with a toxic smile.

“Is this what you consider funny? Dragging (y/n) in there and leaving her alone even though you know she’s scared?”

Megumi’s body tenses up immediately as he positions himself between you and the other girls. They really have some nerves, approaching you like this after what they did. There is no way he’ll let them get away with that.

“Huh? Who the hell are you and why would you care?”

“Because I was scared as well and (y/n) helped me to find a way out.”

He glimpses at you for the split of a second. It’s more than crystal clear that he’s lying. You need to stand up for him, defend him, tell them the truth.

“Oh, you’re braver than I thought (y/n)”, one of them mutters.

“Yeah…Well…We see each other tomorrow, okay? Bye?”

And with that, they disappear into the evening, their awkward walk leaving you speechless for a second.

“Promise me you’ll never let them treat you like this again”, he finally speaks up again.

“I…I promise….”

“Can you just give her your number so that we’re able to grab something to eat? I’m starving”, the girl next to him complains.

“Yeah, I’m super hungry as well!”

“Can’t you just shut up for a minute?”, Megumi hisses under his breath.

“But…would you mind giving me your number?”

-Bonus-

"Megumi-chan!"

His steps quicken in an instant, carrying down the hallway of Jujutsu High at high tempo. If there's one thing he's not in the mood for right now, it's definetely Gojo-sensei. Itadori and Kugisaki probably told him ever little thing about you.

"There's no running for me. Tell me, who's the girl you've been with today?"

He can't help but roll his eyes, the wide grin on his teacher's face simply driving him insane.

"I just met her today", he mumbles in response.

"Don't forget to use protection, I don't wanna be a grand-"

"CAN YOU JUST SHUT UP"

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[nights-legacy]

Body Snatched - Sero Hanta

Main Masterlist ~ MHA Masterlist ~ #2

@thrivingaintmything

1459 words

Warnings: unwanted advances, unwanted touching, assault, crude behaviors and words

+ While napping in Sero's room, he goes out to train with the rest of the Bakusquad and a few others. Unbeknownst to you, there is a quirk accident, and Sero is involved. When he comes back, he is acting very out of character. After having enough of his strange behavior, you go to leave, but he doesn't let you. Luckily, he doesn't get to do much.

I groaned as I sat up from a rude awakening from my nap. I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

"Aw man. You woke them up." I heard Hanta groan. I looked over at the door. Hartan and Bakugo Were standing there.

"Like I give a damn. Now get your lanky ass moving. We're waiting downstairs." Bakugo said gruffly. He walked away. Hanta sighed and closed the door.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"Blasty wants to do some training with some students from other students. So he is demanding we go with him." I chuckled and laid back down, looking up at him. He sat down and rubbed the back of his neck. "I just want to stay here and cuddle with you."

"But you know Bakugo will just come back up here and drag you out himself."

"Yeess!" He whines and gets up. He reaches for his phone. "I guess I better get going. I'll be back wherever. Please stay?"

"Yeah, I'll stay." I said. He nodded and got up walking towards the door. He opened it and I called out behind him. "Have fun!"

"It's blasty. It's going to be..."

"Come on Tape face!" Bakugo's voice came from down the hall.

"Loud and disastrous." Hanta said.

"Bakugo. Can I come?" I heard Todoroki faintly ask.

"NO Half & Half!" I heard Bakugou snap.

"I'll see you later." Hanta said and left. I quickly fell asleep again.

I don't know how long I was asleep but it was completely dark by the time I came too. I felt someone's hand running across my back. I sighed and opened my eyes and saw Hanta sitting next to Me.

"Hi baby." I greeted. He hummed in response. I saw a look in his eyes that was off but I didn't think much of it. "How was the training?"

"Fine." He said bluntly. His hand began to slowly move across my hips. I watched him curiously. The blunt reply is unusual for him.

"Hey are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine, Y/N." He said. That struck me as weird. He never calls me by my name. It's always babe, love, or gorgeous. I sat up on my elbows. I noticed a bit of blood and bruising on his forehead. I reached up and ran my thumb over it.

"Did you get hurt training with Bakugo?" He flinched back. He grabbed my wrist tight. He was for sure acting out of character. I pulled free and reached for the lamp. Once on, I looked back at him. The strange look was not the only thing in his eyes. The color of his eyes was wrong. They were purple, not his normal black.

"Baby?" Before I could say anything else, he pounced on me, pressing his lips on mine. I gasped as I fell back onto the bed. He shoved his tongue in my mouth. The kiss felt all wrong. Not like the Hanta I knew.

"Stop, Hanta." I pushed him a bit. He backed up a bit. His eyes were wild.

"What's wrong, hot stuff? Not in the mood." He grinned seductively. Normally That smile had me weak in the knees but this one was making me sick to my stomach. That made me realize something was very wrong.

"No, not at all." I pushed him off me. He fell onto the bed with a thud as I got up and headed for the door. I opened it and stepped out.

"L/N!" I looked up and saw Kaminari and Jirio standing there, panicked.

"What is it?"

"That's not Sero!" They screamed.

"Shit." I muttered. Before I could do anything, a piece of tape wrapped around my arm and yanked me back into the room and pulled the door closed. I stumbled inside. When I looked back, I saw Sero taping the door shut.

"Who are you?!" I demanded.

"Doesn't matter." He turns and shoots a piece of tape and it wraps around my wrists. He maneuvered the tape, attaching it to the ceiling.

"Fuck!" I muttered as I struggled against the tape. He came towards me and I kicked at him. He grabbed my leg and lunged forward, wrapping my leg around his waist and pressing his body against mine. "Let me go."

"Not a chance! Sero gets you all to himself. Keeps me away from you. I think it's time he shares." Whoever it was snapped as he began to tug on my pants. I struggled against the tape and his hold.

"Whoever you are, this is sick and perverted..."

"Shut up." He interrupted and tapes my mouth shut. I glared at him and my struggling paid off a little bit. The tape on the ceiling let go and I hit him over the head. He groaned, dropping to a knee. 

In response, He hit the back of my knees and sent me to the ground. He quickly placed himself over me and pinned me down. With one hand, he began to undo Hanta's belt and screamed to the tape. Before he could do anything more, the door broke in shambles of ice. 'Hanta' spun around and tried to attack with his tape but was grabbed and held in place by Shoji. 

"L/N!" Someone screamed my name as two sets of hands helped me up. Todoroki and Jirio helped me to my feet and got me out of the room.

After everything calmed down and we got the tape removed from my mouth and wrists did someone finally tell me what was going on. I was sandwiched between Kaminari and Mina on the couch in the common rooms.

"Mineta?! Mineta and Hanta got switched and Mineta had the idea to try and get with me posing as my boyfriend?!"

"Yep." Bakugo said.

"I knew Mineta was stupid but not that stupid. I knew instantly that something wasn't right with Hanta. He was acting weird, called me by my name, and his eyes were purple."

"We were hoping you would notice something was up right away. You know Sero better than anyone." Kami said as he rubbed my arm. I nodded.

"Yeah." I sighed and leaned back, closing my eyes. I was still on edge and shaky from the ordeal. 

Suddenly the room got quiet. I opened my eyes to see Hanta standing near the door with Aizawa. He Looked anxious and had his hands shoved in his pockets. I got up and walked towards him carefully. He stayed put as I got closer. I looked at him hard, trying to see if it was really Hanta or not.

"I am so sorry, babe." He whispered before finally meeting my gaze. I stared at him for a few seconds before running up and hugging him tight. I felt him let out a breath and relax before tightly hugging me back. He buried his face in my neck and took a shuttered breath. I felt little drops hit my shoulder and realized he was crying. I teared up too.

"Hey, I'm okay. I'm not hurt and it's not your fault. Okay?" I pulled back slightly to cup his face.

"I know but I still can't believe that little twerp would try this. In my body no doubt! I can't help But think of what could have happened if..." I kissed him swiftly.

"I know. But it's okay. We're Okay now." He nodded and buried his face again.

"Mineta has been removed from the grounds and Will not be returning." Aizawa spoke up. "I am making sure the proper actions are being taken. I am so sorry that this happened and I am glad you're alright, L/N."

"Thank you, Aizawa sensei." He nodded and left.

"Okay: Now, how about a slumber party movie night in the common room?" Kaminari spoke up. There were multiple yeses before he turned to look at us. "You don't have to but we just want to be there for you in Whatever way we can."

"Babe?" Hanta Looked at me.

"That sounds like a great idea Kami."

"Yes! Get the blankets and pillows!" He jumped up and ran through the common room, nearly falling multiple times. "And you're staying Blasty!"

"I know, I know. Just calm down, crackpot." Bakugo slumped on the couch. After a few minutes, everyone was huddled and cuddled under mounds of blankets and pillows. The lights were off as the movie started.

"Hmm..." I sighed as I relaxed against Hanta's chest. My head was laying on his chest while he ran a hand up and down my back under the blanket.

"Comfy?" Hanta asked softly. I nodded. "Good."

"Love you." I whispered.

"I love you too." He kissed my head and he held me tight as we focused on the movie.

Tag List: @iris-shihabi @cl0verbby @lilparcheesie @keigos-baby-bird @evilunicorns4minions

[indigoflorals]

would it be possible if you could write a Rafe Cameron smut where him and reader are at a party and he needs her so they go to the bathroom!

thank you x

Let Them

18+, public sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink,

hi guys, this is one of the first things I've really really enjoyed that I've written in a while. if you like it, leave a reply or a reblog! id love your feedback <3

The hand that had spent most of the night on your upper knee had finally crept up to your thigh. Ward's party was boring, to celebrate some new business venture, but Rafe had to be there. It was his job, and with the past, he couldn't afford to risk his dads favor.

You felt eyes on you as you spoke to Rose. It was from close by, and the eyes lingered on the crack of your cleavage. You adjusted your dress to cover yourself, but Rafe swatted at you. "You look beautiful. I knew the dress I picked out would look amazing on you."

You blushed, still adjusting the dress for your own modesty. Your husband smirked at the flush on your face, placing a kiss to your cheek as he slid his hand further inside your thigh. Your chest heated as you felt his fingers toying with your panties. You were distracted, panting lightly as he rubbed over your clothed clit.

"Sweetheart?" He cooed innocently, "Rose asked you a question."

"Oh!" You snapped back, seeing eyes around the table suddenly on you. You could feel Rafe's smirk from beside you despite not being able to see him. "Sorry, just feeling a bit nauseous. What did you ask?" You smiled politely, stifling a moan.

"Oh, that's okay. Maybe it's finally morning sickness! You know we'd love a grandchild!" She laughed, grabbing Ward's arm as the rest of the table laughed along. You let out a forced smile, feeling Rafe's fingers slip past your panties.

With a cough, you stood, smoothing out your dress, "Excuse me. I'm gonna use the restroom." You stepped back from the table, stumbling a bit. Immediately, Ward waved a hand, "Rafe, go on and make sure your wife is alright."

Rafe nodded, pursing his lips, "Good idea."

-

Rafe's strong hand clasped around your throat as he thrust hard into you. "Let it all out baby. I want everyone at this party to know how much of a slut you are for me." You whined quietly, grinding back into him where your bodies met. Your ribs ached from being slammed into the porcelain sink, but in that moment, all you could feel was pleasure. Rafe's hand slid from your throat to your hip to stabilize himself. "This ass," He groaned, fisting the soft flesh, "Could fuck you like this for hours."

"Please, daddy," You cried, dipping your head to rest against the counter, "I need..."

"What?" He cooed, sliding a hand down to your clit, stopping before he touched you, "Does my baby need to come?"

"Yes," You hissed, feeling his slow, agonizing pace as he rubbed circles into your clit, "More!"

"If you need more," He thrust hard once making you cry out, "You're gonna have to be loud for me. Let everyone know who's making you come like this baby." You could tell he was close by his uneven pace, and you were too. You just needed a little bit more. "Rafe," You moaned, mindful of your volume, "Please. Everyone will hear."

"Let them," He grunted, "Beg. Louder."

"Daddy! Please fuck me harder!" You cried out loud, feeling him speed up immediately at your obedience. You were loud, and certain everyone had heard. But as soon as white spots flooded your vision, you didn't care. Your body shook, and you screamed in pleasure. Your knuckles were white as you gripped the edge of the sink.

"Oh, baby," Rafe moaned, wrapping a hand around your waist to fuck you hard as he came, "Gonna get you so pregnant. Fill you up with my cum." You shuttered as warmth filled you, and Rafe stilled, pulling you against his body as he did.

"Shit," He mumbled, kissing gently behind your ear, "There goes another good party, huh?"

[jenna0rtega27]

Can you do part 2 for Never to be done again? Like with a little smut and them finding out Y/N is pregnant?

Never to be done again Part 2

Thank you for asking +18 Jenna Ortega x F!Reader Summary: Request Warning: Jenna g!p, some smut, penetration, Reader is pregnant, unprotected sex Number of words : 1848

Masterlist

Part 1

Pov Y/n: I learned my lesson. Never again will I make love to Jenna in her mother's house. The other day, when the lady went to pick up her sister from her friend's house and left me alone with Natalie, she gave me a speech about condoms and the risks of being pregnant if we don't protect ourselves and how we can was irresponsible for having unprotected sex. And Miss Jenna came back around 9 o'clock in the evening. So Natalie was already in bed when she and Aliyah arrived. It’s lucky that I love this girl because I would have taken revenge otherwise.

But in short, have we really learned our lesson? Half. We've never been able to make love at Natalie's house, but we still don't wear condoms. Like today, we are in our house, in our bed. I'm lying on the bed and Jenna is between my legs penetrating me with her cock.

“Fuck, you feel so good” Jenna leans in and kisses me passionately. I moan into her mouth and she takes the opportunity to enter her tongue in my mouth. I pull away when we run out of air and moan into his lips.

I wrap my arms around Jenna's neck and she leans her head to suck on my neck. I continue to moan with pleasure. Jenna licks the spot where she sucked to ease the pain.

Jenna continues to move her hips and I moan in pleasure as I feel myself coming soon.

“I'm going to cum soon” My eyes water from the pleasure Jenna's cock is giving me. The little brunette moves her hips faster and her penis penetrates further into my pussy. I moaned as I felt him hit the best spots.

“Cum for me my love” I scream while saying my girlfriend's name and arch my back as I cum on Jenna's cock. Jenna continues to move her hips so she can cum inside me too. With her arm, she stretches it to put it between our two bodies and jerks off while continuing to penetrate me. After a few seconds, we both moaned as his cum entered my pussy. She slows her hip movements and moves away, lying next to me and pulling me so that my head is on her chest. She caresses my copper hair and my arm which surrounds her stomach. We both fall asleep tired from our 4 laps.

The next morning I feel someone kissing me all over my face. I slowly open my eyes and see the most beautiful face in the world. Jenna looks at me with a loving smile and continues to kiss my face.

“I would like to wake up like that every morning. » I say with my hoarse voice from waking up and screaming yesterday. Jenna looks at me with a sweet smile and places her lips on mine for a sweet kiss.

“Me too” She responds on my lips, caressing my cheek with her thumb. I smile at him, closing my eyes against his gentle caresses.

But suddenly, before I can put my lips back on his, I feel something in my stomach. I frown at this horrible feeling.

“Y/n are you okay?” » I shake my head. I quickly get up and run to the bathroom, vomiting into the bowl. Jenna comes quickly behind me and takes my hair so as not to mess it up and caresses my back. I wipe my mouth with toilet paper and my tears with my hand. I get up and wash my hands. Jenna prepares my toothbrush for me. I brush my teeth.

" I am sorry. » Said once brushing my teeth and avoiding Jenna's look because of shame. Jenna frowns and cups my cheeks with both hands so I look at her.

“Why are you apologizing baby? Everyone can feel bad. » Jenna gives me a kiss on the forehead. “Come on, go back to bed, I’ll join you.” »

I go back to bed and Jenna joins me a few seconds later. I fall asleep from exhaustion, resting my head on my girlfriend's chest and her hand stroking my hair.

It's been 3 days since the time I threw up, and I had the worst three days of my life. I was sick for three days. Jenna has been by my side every time. I am so lucky to have him in my life.

But what's even stranger is that I'm eating foods I never thought I would eat. For example, I hate pickles. I'm not even able to smell it otherwise I'm sick. But for the past 3 days, I've been eating it all the time. I even finished a pickle skin all by myself.

Right now I'm lying on the couch with my head in my girlfriend's lap and she's playing in my hair. We're listening to a Netflix show but honestly I'm closer to falling asleep thanks to Jenna's fingers in my hair.

“Baby, we need to talk.” I quickly sit down and look at my little brunette with concern.

“Did I do something?”

“But no my love you didn’t do anything wrong” Jenna laughs softly and kisses my lips which quickly relieves me. “But we need to talk” I nod for him to continue. “I think I know why you’ve been sick for four days straight. » I don't say anything so Jenna takes the opportunity to continue. "I think you're pregnant" Jenna said softly to me. But I freeze in place. This is not possible. There's no way I'm pregnant.

“It’s impossible, I can’t be pregnant”

“Baby, you’ve been throwing up for 4 days in a row, you’re always tired and you’re eating foods you usually hate to eat”

“But if I’m pregnant, what are we going to do?" I start to panic. We are so young. And with Jenna's career, she's always moving. And I'm writing my next book. We really don't have time for a baby.

“If you ever get pregnant, YOU decide what you want to do. If you want to abort then you do it, but if you want to keep it then you keep it. Whatever you choose I will always be by your side." Jenna cups my cheeks with both hands and caresses them with her thumbs.

“But your career? I don't want to ruin it because I'm pregnant! " I panic. I really don't want to be the cause of his work stoppage.

“Hey baby don’t say that.” You're not going to ruin it. I want a family with you. You will always be more important than my career. » Jenna caresses my cheeks, removing the tears from my eyes. I didn't even know I was crying. She gives me a soft kiss on the lips and walks away, resting her forehead on mine, continuing to caress my cheeks. “I dream of having a family with you baby." Jenna says with a sweet smile which I return. “Do you want to take a pregnancy test?” I have already purchased some tests in case you need them. » I nod and get up with Jenna towards the bathroom. Jenna takes the tests out of the cabinet. I sit on the toilet bowl and pee on three tests. I towel off, get up and leave the bathroom, setting a 3 minute timer.

I pace around the living room. The fear of being pregnant invades me. In fact, it’s not having a baby that scares me, because I dream of starting a family with Jenna. But I'm afraid Jenna isn't ready to have a child. We've only been together for 1 year. And we've never had a discussion about having a family before. What if she doesn't want a child with me? What if I'm pregnant, will she leave me?

“Hey, what’s going on in your little head?" Jenna cups my cheeks to stop me from pacing. “Are you sure you want a family with me? You know you can leave me if you don't want a child with me if I ever get pregnant. » Tears leave my eyes and Jenna moves even closer to me.

“Stop the bad thinking. Y/n I always wanted to have a family with you. I've been dreaming of this moment since I met you. Baby I want children with you okay. So stop with his questions because you will never lose me, understand?" I nod and Jenna continues to try my tears. I sniff and place my lips on his. " I love you "

" I love you too." Before we can continue our little moment, my phone rings. I gasp and start to shake slightly.

“Come on, let’s go watch this together.” I nod and follow Jenna hand in hand into the bathroom. “Let’s start with the first one” Jenna turns the first one and it comes out positive. She turns the second one and comes out positive. I feel new tears prick my eyes. Jenna grips my hand tighter and slowly turns the third and final test. I close my eyes for two seconds and reopen them to see that the test is also positive.

Suddenly I start to have stomach pain. I bend down and vomit into the toilet bowl. Jenna crouches behind me, holds my hair and rubs my back. Once everything is out, I flush the toilet and wipe my mouth. I turn around and see Jenna in tears.

“Baby you’re pregnant” Jenna smiles with tears in her eyes and hugs me.

" I am pregnant. Baby I'm pregnant!"

“Wait do you want to keep the baby?” » Jenna looks at me with a hopeful look.

“Of course I want to keep the baby!” I say with a big smile and Jenna immediately hugs me. I cry in his arms.

“We're going to have a baby. We're going to be parents." Jenna said into my shoulder. We continue to cry with joy in each other's arms. After a few minutes, I step away and brush my teeth and wash my hands. I go to bed with Jenna and we lie under the covers. Jenna's head is on my chest and she caresses my stomach. I play in his hair. Jenna lifts her head and looks at me with nothing but love.

“I love you so much” Jenna whispers and kisses me softly.

" I love you too." I smile as I kiss him again.

“And I already love you so much too” Jenna leans down and gives a kiss to my stomach. Tears of joy flow down my cheeks as I see this scene that melts my heart.

Jenna gets up and wipes my eyes and kisses me again. I feel so happy to live this adventure with this woman who is just magnificent in every way.

But now, how do I tell Natalie knowing that she lectured me on condoms?

That's another problem. Right now I'm focusing on my girlfriend and the human being growing inside me.

Part 3?

[threepandas]

Bad End: Heroic Collection

New Haven wasn't a major metropolis. Some big city like Delhi or Tokyo, Jakarta and the like. It was big for the area. A major hub for commerce and crime on a local scale. But Nationally? INTERNATIONALLY? Not even close. No matter WHAT the great ambitions that haunted the Mayor, late at night, may tell you.

So, really, there was NO fucking reason for any A Listers to be here.

NONE.

Our biggest exports were fancy fucking jams and that one fashion line I couldn't pronounce. We had honest to God Jam festivals in the fall. It was a circuit, Mayor gave out awards. There were pies. Firestrike always ate himself sick. Agent always laughed at him. I... Fuck, my head was ringing. I'd hit that last building HARD. Was pretty sure I tasted blood. Not... not sure if that was because I busted something in my mouth or...

Over my comms, I could hear my teammates fighting. Trying to hail the Alliance. If we could... could just hold on...

Long enough for the major players to GET here?

Then what? I had to wonder. Staring at a burning bus in front of me. It was half way lodged through Mrs. Brahimi's shop. Please, God, let her and the workers have got out all right. I'd been there just this morning. She made me those stuffed flatbread things. Said I was still too skinny. Should rest more.

I use the twist remains of a book return to lever myself to my feet. Book..? Oh. I'm by the library. Which..? Fuck. Main one. That's city hall.

Smoke rises around the city I've lived in all my life. Fires everywhere. I'm supposed... supposed to be a hero. But I can barely stand. Feel sick as the world sways. My body is one big bruise. Gotta... gotta keep fighting. Helping. Save people.

In the distance, I can hear screams.

I'm coming. I promise. I'm coming!

I make my screaming body move. Stumble. Catch myself. Then keep going. The hiss and spit in my ear tells me that my communicator is probably half broken. I don't try it, in case that breaks it the rest of the way. Wrench doors from half crushed cars to free trapped civilians. Lever wreckage, hold it with trembling limbs, so people can crawl to safety. Run. Please, god, RUN!

We aren't strong enough.

He's here, The Collective.

A hivemind super threat. Alien supposedly. So far above my team's pay grade we know basically nothing. The kind of thing we were expected to never realistically see. We're nobody's. Fuck it, we're HAPPY being nobody's. It meant we got to go home each night. Didn't face The Horrors. Like him.

He CONSUMES.

Hungry. Trying to fill some void that's never going to fill. Supposedly a planet eater. Gutting worlds for resources, materials, to continue his own expansion. Now fixated on Earth for it's continued refusal to die. For its defiance. Some A+ sort of monster, to our high C rank. At best.

Fuck... we dealt with HUMANS. Fought gimmicks and tech. Little fish in our little pond. Now this tsunami was bringing the ocean to US and it was all we could do, to swim and survive.

I leaned against a half smashed car. Braced myself against it, more then anything, then started pulling pot shots. I... I was gonna black out soon. With a concussion like this? Probably wasn't gonna be waking up. Especially if those THINGS found me before a friendly did.

All across the city I called home, The Collective had Drones tearing the place apart.

They'd almost be pretty. Tall, elegant, androgynous lookin, supermodel twinks in battle armor. Drones apparently covered their lower face. I'd know the "commander" by their uncovered face and "use of adornments". Useful! Except they could fucking SWITCH on command, so you have to take out ALL of them.

Because they weren't a collection of different soldiers.

THEY weren't a THEY. That? Was a fucking HE. Singular.

You don't consider each of your individual cell as people. Each follicle of hair. Why would HE? God damn it. It was like fighting a giant. Against Gods. They just kept coming. And my ammo? Was not endless.

Worse. The drones had stopped looking. I don't know WHAT they had been searching for. But now? They started to converge on me. On city hall. Fuck. I... I couldn't even really stand anymore. My vision was blurring. I knew for a FACT my shots were shit. But dense as they were crowding? It seemed enough. Kept them back.

Three cartridges left.

Two.

Only one more...

The Alliance was coming. Half my team had gone silent. I could hear tears in the voice of Tech, back in the office. They had our life signs. Built into our armor. I could only imagine what mine looked like. Prayed, like I hadn't since I was a kid, that the others were just unconscious. Safe somewhere.

Someplace this nightmare couldn't reach them.

I doubted I was that lucky.

Tech was begging me to hold on. Giving me ETAs. And... And I was out of bullets. The block half full of Drones. I had escrima sticks. A fucking tazer. It would have to do. Sticks came out, as I swayed to my feet. No longer letting the car behind me hold my weight. What's a little... let's say, hundred or so, on one? Eh?

Bring your friends. Let's make it a fair fight.

I'll go easy on you.

Bravado until the end. Remember, never know who's watching. You are a symbol. Before you are a man, you are their HERO. Don't you DARE let them down. Even if you die. Especially when you die. B.. Bravado until the end. Plaste on a smirk and say a one-liner, we got hope to shoulder.

I took down about three Drones... I think... before the rest swarm me.

Feel hands pinning my arms. My torso. Everything. A weak point between the panels is ripped open. High grade military fabrics doing jack shit against their impossible strength. The distinct pinch tug of a needle in my skin. Cold spreading. The sudden exhaustion of a powerful sedative. I... am gone.

Time... is blurry.

Now and Then running together in my senses. My brain. The concussion doesn't help. Or... or didn't? It feels... gone? Gone-ing? Oh... look, sky. Clouds. Pretty. Wasn't I standing? I am standing. No... no being dragged. Chair? Not chair. Stairs? Carried. Pretty window..... where am I? Fuzzy. Bluzzy fuzzy purple beans~ he he he~ oh! Those are the... watch'ma call it! Gucci chairs! That rich lady had! Neat. Plurble.

Ouch! Why'd you pi...?

My mouth is dry as sand. But suddenly? I am hyper aware. The floating drift of my mind VIOLENTLY gone, replaced by alerted and focus. Drones surround me in a vaguely familiar hallway. Shit. I think it's that rich designer's place. My helmet is off, but my mask is still in place, thank god. The Drones stand far to close for my liking. Their many eyes, amused.

So glad to entertain, you Fuck.

I am frog marched down the hall. Damn near dragged. They were too smart to restrain me with my own cuffs, unfortunately. So my hands are bound behind my back with something tight I can't get a good feel off. Bastard secured it to my belt, too. Great.

The Collective's "Face" is surrounded by what must be every jewel in the city. Piled high in some vague sorting pattern I refuse to even try and comprehend. He's trying on rings. One on every finger, to see what matches his skin tone. Looks good. Already, he has a pearl stud and some earrings he's decided he likes. He looks up as I'm dragged in, and I realize immediately what one of "a few other differences" between him and the Drones are...

It's the EYES,

They GLOWED.

Metallic almost. Nearly neon. They reflected the light in a way the Drones simply did not. It made their face... horrificly predatory. Made for WATCHING, somehow. Unnerving and haughty. Beautiful still, but uncomfortable to be near.

Sitting up on a table that basicly swallows the room, dead center like a show piece on display, with one long leg tossed over the other and no fucking shirt on? The Face looks almost carefully, artfully, staged. To maximize some "haughty yet coy, alien prince who maybe wants to fuck you" shtick.

Does... Does he not realize I'm NOT one of the usual opponents? I mean. Flattered at the "join me! The Darkside has sex and cookies!" set up. Always fun. Classic, really. But, like? I would be... at BEST... a solidly MID goon.

Also "NO".

Gonna preemptively throw that out there. Maybe some expletives for flavor. Suggest someplace sunless to shove it. SOLID "No". Good try, though.

Around me, the Drones are shaking with silent laughter. Staring down at me, their pale eyes dancing with amusement. It's creepy as hell. Unnerving to be the center of attention like this. For this many eyes, utterly in synch, to surround and watch my every twitch. Act fascinated and amused, like I'm some little animal performing tricks.

The Face hasn't dropped his Seduction to the Darkside routine. If anything, he seems delighted by the defiance. Which... yeah, that tracks. It's why he's harrasing out planet to begin with. That one's definitely on me. So, better question? Not that I'm not glad and all? Why the FUCK am I not dead.

"And lose my HERO? Perish the thought~" drawles The Collective, the posture light and lazy, even as something dangerous threaded itself through their tone. It sounded... possessive. But that couldn't be right. "I would NEVER do such a thing! In fact, we are going to have to be far more careful with that little processor of yours. Far too fragile. Just the one, too. Horrifying, really."

Thanks. Just what every guy loves to really make 'im feels special. Insults.

Fucker.

More laughter from all around me. I grit my teeth. Come oooon, Alliance. Where the hell ARE you guys!? Could REALLY use a rescue! The hands holding me still are drifting. Fucking handsy. Damn near stroking even as they hold me immobile. They're looking for the clasps and buckles on my armor. Have already found the obvious ones. Fingers oh so casually drifting over, to grip, flex, and tear them apart.

I do NOT like how loose my armor is starting to feel. Barely able to hold on. Protect me. Limited as that protection may be. I think I'm developing a horrifying empathy for clams. Crustaceans in general. Anything that gets slowly pried from the safety of it's shell, too certain doom.

The Face casually tosses the rings he was playing with aside. Tens of thousands of dollars bouncing off to God only knows where. He slides from the table to stand. Shit. He's huge.

The androgynous twink supermodel thing he has going on? Fucking LIES. Twists your perception of how, EXACTLY, strong the Face body IS. He clears seven feet easily, is muscled in that distinctly "never see me coming until it's too late" sort of way all the ninja types are.

The tattoos. It's the FUCKING tattoos! They give the illusion that he's slimmer then he actually is.

It HIDES MUSCLE MASS.

I can't tell if that's vanity or strategy and I hate it. Glare as he sashays towards me. Hips rolling in that elegant catwalk strut. I'm forced to my knees. Because of course I am. How ELSE will the bastard loom and gloat? Though really, weak as I currently feel, it's more that the Drones holding me up? Stop doing that. My knees more or less just give up on their own.

"Like what you see? You're staring so intently~" He mocks. If he were being genuine, I'd call it teasing. Flirtatious. But I know better. "It IS a pretty body, isn't it? I worked hard on it, you know. All sort of fun little details~ Might honestly be one of my favorites. If you're good for me, I'll let you explore it~"

THERE it is.

Darkside. Sex and cookies. Sign up today. Fuck you and not in the fun way. Keep your hands to yourself, Collective. You're not convincing me. You could tell me the sky was blue, and I'd make three presentations with a PowerPoint, on why you were a liar. No, still No, and a hefty fuck off No for spice.

Three steps away. Two steps. One.

A man that tall and dangerous? Frankly did NOT need heels. Figures he'd wear them anyway. Sharp enough to kill a man. Right infront of my folded knees. I refuse to look up. No more fucking games. Did have to wonder, though, if those pants... if they even WERE pants? Were painted on or not. Very tight. Looked vaguely metal yet leather.

Shit.

Fingers, splayed wide as they run themselves through my sweaty and probably bloodstained hair. Couldn't have been nice to touch. Wrong angle and just a touch too big to be a Drone. Light as a lover, sweet almost, soothing. Before it inevitably tightens, gripping the strands. Honestly not as hard as I expected, didn't even hurt.

Still, my head is forced back.

Back and back and back, forced to arch my spine, hang awkwardly at some forty-five degree angle. My thighs and abs already screaming. A Drone grabs the back of my armor and, with an almost casual yank, my chest plate is violently snapped free. Both tossed to the floor away from us.

"There we are~" the Face hums down at me, eyes nearly hypnotic in how the light moved from within, grin full of sharp and deadly teeth. "No more of that ugly thing in the way. I much prefer this~"

"Tell me, Little Hero, do you remember? Becoming mine."

No, I certainly do fucking not. What the HELL is he-!? From behind the Face a Drone steps. Dressed differently to the others. Casual clothes. Like... actual street clothes. If they weren't GREEN I never would been able too-...

In horror, I watch as the pigment of the Drones skin melts away to a middling average. So utterly nondescript a blend of ethnicities that it's genuinely hard to place, but won't stand out no matter where he goes in the city.

I... I had seen that face.

SAVED that man.

Thought he was CUTE! T..Thought WE were having some sort of MEET CUTE! Oh God. That was at the festival. I was out of costume. Saved him from getting crushed. Then my teammates handled everything before I could slip away. So I just... stayed. Showed the cute tourist the festivities.

We ate FANCY JAMS, YOU FUCK!

I pined our that cute tourist for WEEKS. Was UNBEARABLE. Tech threatened to shove me off a roof! Oh my god.

Laughter.

Dozens of mouths, laughing in perfect sync. The noise layered and bouncing strangely around the room. Deeper then it should be, higher as it swings. Like a radio or voice modulator that someone is messing with. A momentary loss of control. My anger fizzles out to fear. Oh... oh yeah...

I forgot I was fucked.

At.. at least I know why?

A step forward. Past too close and now basically in my lap. A foot on either side of my knees. I try not to think exactly where my face would be pressed if I wasn't dragged back, to hang near painfully arched, so he could lean down and I could be forced to make eye contact. That way lay madness.

He moved his other hand to my face, cupping it. Dragging his thumb possessively across my mouth. He hummed, pleased.

He pressed closer, sliding down my front to his knees, straddling my lap. REALLY hoped that WAS, in fact, a weapon in your pocket there, buddy. Because I am not liking the handsy direction this is going, nor have I come to terms with my meet cute being a monstrous planet killing warlord. Not feeling sexy, my guy.

....okay, a LITTLE sexy, but that is hormones and we ignore those.

Fuuuuuck, wandering haaaaands! Now would be a GOOD TIME for door kicking rescues! I do NOT want to learn anything new about myself today! I want to go HOME. Sleep forever, maybe! Have a burrito the size of my head! Oh god. Think unsexy thoughts. Math. Sad puppies! Sad puppies doing MATH!

The Collective had dragged me upright. Pressed my face right up against their Face's bare skin. All I could smell was expensive cologne and man. Warm skin. Oh god, I am so gay. This is hell and I am very, VERY gay. If evil, why sexy hot hot hot? Hormones are making very convincing arguments. Horny brain says let's make terrible life choices.

No! Nooooo. Stop it, Me! We are fucking better then this! God damn it, you trainwreck, you are a ROLE MODEL! Act like one! (But horny...) (NO!!!)

God I was never going to mock the fuckers who hesitates at the "sex n cookies" speech again. Persuasive mother FUCKER!

"Aah~" he sighed contentedly, far too close to a moan for my sanity's liking. Hands having finally found the hidden zippers of my undersuit. Slowly dragging it open. "You are FAR too cute~♡"

"I can't wait to get you off this worthless little rock. Back to ME. I'll have so many WAYS to take care of you~ Backups and rudimentary supports we can set up, at least until I get you something proper."

Horrifying. Deeply Horrifying. REALLY never wanted to know what terrified and horny felt like, but here we are. Distantly, I hear thunder. There's no clouds. A flash of red through the skies. Green followed by metallic purple. Oh thank fuck. Keep his attention. Just... just keep his attention.

"We'll use me as a base. Keep you in stasis. Away from all these ugly, dangerous things~! Just you and me. Perfect. BETTER. Infinite and beautiful. I'll make all sort of bodies just for you to play with. Even let you keep this one! If you want. It'll be a precious memory for us, of where you began. How we met."

A mouth on mine. I can't breathe. Can't escape the arms wrapped around me. My protests do little more then waste oxygen. I feel light headed. Come one, team Alliance! He's here! HE'S HERE!!!

"You're going to be MINE, little Hero. I finally figured it out. What I was missing. It was YOU~♡! My beloved, delicate, little thing~. I'm going to take SUCH good care of you."

"Forever~"

[thebloodredraven]

Akatsuki Secret [sub] Kinks - Part I

lineup: itachi uchiha, hidan, konan, sasori warnings: mentions and descriptions of rough sex, degradation, dumbification, mommy kink, humiliation, r*pe play, and edging, gender inclusive

- x - notes: I've had this in my drafts for a little while (a year lmao), but I couldn't get Hidan fleshed out tbh. His was hard. Anyways: minors do not interact, comment or reblog if you like it, and make sure to support other fanfic writers ♥ I only do these when the moment strikes so idk when the second part will be published but it'll get done! thanks ♥ - x -

Itachi: degredation/humiliation

Sure, he could be the best pleasure dom you've ever come across ever. Ever. But have you considered he gives you all the praise because he's tired of hearing it for himself? Every waking minute of his life, he has to hear about how great he is. How powerful he is. How nobody will ever amount to his power and prowess as a shinobi. Praise, envy, recognition, infamy, compliments, shoe-shining, ass-kissing, blah blah blah blah blah. He's heard it all before and he's sick of it.

You can't convince me he wouldn't fold, or at least pause him in his tracks, if someone told him he wasn't as special as everyone claimed he was. That he wasn't worth the hype. That you expected more from someone with his name. That the way he was writhing and keening from your fingers milking his prostate because he hates being edged was unbecoming of him. That Uchiha pride of his would fight back against the accusations and his eyes would burn with hatred, but the beet-red blush that covers his entire face and chest while you're impaling his wet throat tells you he feels otherwise.

That man wants to be spit on and called a cock-sucking whore while he's ass up taking a strap. Call him pathetic. Tell him how stupid he looks with his fucked-out face smothered in the pillows and slick all over his chin from when you sat on his face and smothered him until he couldn't breathe. Laugh at him when he begs for air by tapping your thighs. Ask him how he'd feel if his entire family could see him in a position that would bring the whole clan to shame, and he'd feel freer and more liberated than he has his whole life cause all the expectations people placed on him are GONE and he can just be your dumb little toy.

Konan: dominatrix

I feel it in my gut that this woman is a dominatrix at certain times. She feels like a switch, but the few times she needs to be in that special space? Needs to feel some semblance of control because everything else around her is out of her grasp because someone else has what she wants in their clutches? That's when she slips into that headspace.

Unlike Itachi as a pleasure dom, she's a no-nonsense woman and expects to be obeyed. You'll be rethinking about how you backtalked her when your top half is hanging off the bed while she fucks you with a brutality she learned to harness on the battlefield, the only thing keeping you from falling being her strong grip on your hips.

You've got drool sliding down your cheek and a tight grip on her wrist while she forces moan after moan after moan from you until you're screaming and crying for her to stop. Because after four messy, powerful orgasms you can't take it anymore. It's too much. She'll slow down once she sees you sobbing and bend down to kiss away your tears, letting you get a breather, but she's not pulling out. In fact, you're too dazed by her lips to realize the meaning behind her sliding her hands up your body to rest at the juncture of your neck. She presses one more tender kiss to your ears before whispering in a deceptively kind voice, "I know it's a lot, baby. But you know tears don't move me. Until I hear that safe word, you're going to take it until I'm satisfied you've learned your lesson. Now stop whining and spread your legs wider. You're in for a long night."

Hidan: dumbification/tenderness

You'd think this one would be easy because what you see is what you get most of the time with Hidan: a sadomasochistic pain-obsessed BDSM freak with very little boundaries. He typically requires a lot from sexual partners because that's all he's used to: intensity. Everything with him is always blood, violence, screaming, sacrifice, Jashin, Jashin, Jashin, kill, kill, kill. R8P play, flogging, knife play, golden showers, and even killing him are not above his desires. But this is about secret kinks. There are enough fanfics about him loving the thrill of being bullied by big muscular men to the nth degree, but what's something he'd keep hidden from everyone else? One he might actually feel embarrassed about sharing with someone? One he'd go to great lengths to hide because it's the one thing he's ashamed about feeling like he needs? It's not a kink at all. It's a human emotion that he craves to feel during the moment more than he's willing to admit: It's tenderness. It's making love to him to slow his mind down and coaxing his orgasms from him in a way that doesn't overstimulate him and watching him make sense of it. It's enacting acts of violence against his body with spiked whips, chain-shibari, and barbed wire but pressing a kiss to his fresh, bloodied wounds at the same time. It's making him understand that he craves violence and hedonism because it's the only form of control he ever has and taking it away from him is a risk you love him enough to take. It's being in the throes of pleasure and getting him right to his peak before forcing him to keep eye contact as his pleasure spills over and wracks through his body in waves because of the softness and admiration aimed towards him at his most vulnerable. He'll NEVER admit it out loud and he'd actually kill you if you brought it up any time outside of the bedroom, but you know. He knows you know. It works out.

Sasori: MMlb/DDlb

I see this man portrayed as a hard dom 98% of the time and I'm not mad about it, but........ The same man that figuratively and literally wears a hard shell of a mask to hide his vulnerable and delicate nature? The man that finds beauty in the most macabre things because it's everlasting and immortal, therefore will always be remembered and praised? The man that found peace after death because someone finally understood him? The man that created puppets of his parents for some form of connection to the intimacy that he was robbed of? The Scorpio? That man needs a Mommy with a capital M. He wants to be nurtured. He wants to be held. He wants someone else to hold the strings to his heart for a change. That bad attitude and mean streak doesn't change the fact that that man is a bottom; a bottom leaning switch at MOST.

[muffinsin]

Cassandra x fucked up/psychopathic reader

Prompt: Cassandra gets herself someone with little to no morals, someone violent and appreciative of her sadistic tendencies

(Fem reader)

Warning for: Violence, partly NSFW content

Idea inspired and matched by @fantasy-relax . Go check out their take of the story written in the reader’s POV! I absolutely loved it, and I’ll link it here! :) I highly recommend reading it too, as it’s a direct counterpart to this!

Let’s get into it! ;)

Masterlists

Cassandra gasps in shock when she spots the small scratch on her sword. Immediately, this shock turns to anger.

“Hey!”, she yells, relishing in the wide, fearful eyes that land on her.

“"Look what have you done! My favorite sword has a scratch! You useless woman!", she curses.

She grabs the sword tightly, her gloved hand running alongside the blade. It’s not even close to being as sharp as it is meant to be!

Is this foolish imbecile trying to sabotage her?!

" I'm s-orry Lady Cassandra my arm was tired and I-AHH"

Cassandra laughs at the scream that follows, the fearful eyes widening in terror.

The cut made by the sword was fast and made with lethal precision. The arm rests on the soft carpet, and it draws more laughter from Cassandra.

She crackles at the sight of the imbecile falling to her knees, more and more tears spilling down her red cheeks.

"Not tired anymore I bet", she snickers. More screams and cries follow.

Please this, please that. Please spare me, please, please, please, please. As if the word has any meaning to Cassandra at all. She merely rolls her eyes at it. If her prey was a little more entertaining with her begging, at least!

She inspects the bloody blade, a sick smile coming to her lips.

Perhaps, it was sharpened properly after all. She shrugs it off. The scratch still lays beneath the blood!

With a large grin on her face, she steps to the kneeling woman again, her hand reaching out to grasp the little bit of her upper arm that is left.

Again, the woman is howling in pain.

With a quick cut to her other arm, it also falls to the floor. Cassandra crackles as blood spills and splutters in her face.

Now she sees the twitching fingers of the unattached arms, she giggles. She should’ve probably broken them first, but this one is really testing her patience!

With another slash to her chest, the woman screams again. She falls on her back, and Cassandra laughs loudly at the image. With no arms remaining, she can barely squirm away.

“Poor, little maid”, she states mockingly. Like a turtle turned on its shell.

She allows to drop the sword to the floor. It is in need of proper sharpening now!

Instead she brings out her sickle. She relishes in the fear that surrounds the maimed woman.

The maid keeps screaming, until Cassandra at last is done with her and cuts her head in another clean swipe of sickle.

She smirks to herself, yet nearly jumps in surprise upon hearing a hum.

In the doorway, stands another maid.

Golden eyes catch yours, and she gives you a sadistic smile.

"What is it, little morsel? Want to be next?", the taunts, giggling. Oh, two victims in such short times? Ah, and you practically ran into her arms!

She’s crackling with delight.

Rising from the floor, she walks up to you slowly, circling you such as a predator would their prey.

She licks the blood off her sickle, golden eyes wide in excitement. You smell so well already! Perhaps she would let you run along, merely to chase after you. Not that you’d stand a chance against her, of course.

She’s just about ready to raise her sickle to your pretty face when unexpected words fall from your dry lips.

"That was a clean cut my lady, you have a steady hand"

She freezes.

What?

Cassandra is left dumbfounded, her eyes, even with her lazy eye, wide as you easily walk past her and inspect the body.

You bend over it, and all she can do is watch.

What the?

She thinks she is just ready to catch herself again, to resume taunting you and kill you when another comment comes from you.

"You also have to be pretty strong or have a sharp weapon to make this so smoothly"

She finds herself frozen yet again, her flies buzzing in excitement beyond her control.

What’s going on?

She resists the urge to tell you, proudly, that the weapon was rather blunt and it was her sheer strength that allowed her to maim, then kill.

You’re standing now, and it’s as your eyes bore into hers. She doesn’t understand.

Why are you praising her for this? Maids usually cry at her sight. The staff calls her a monster.

And why is she liking your praise this much?! You’re a lowly maid! She shouldn’t be accepting compliments from the likes of you! What if her sisters found out? What if her mother was to fi-

Another comment.

"Truly impressive"

This one makes her chest feel light. Her eyes widen for a moment when she feels her cheeks heating up beyond her control and her flies buzz purr loudly.

Quickly, she swarms away, more and more until she is in the safety of her room.

Her prey is long forgotten as she falls into her large bed, face flushed and an uncomfortable ache in her chest and between her legs.

She groans at both.

With her blush only increasing and embarrassment taking over her, she swarms out of her dress and tends to the sudden wetness between her thighs.

Cassandra doesn’t know why she’s even doing this! She shouldn’t!

It’s a waste of time!

She’s only doing this to scare you!

You deserve to be scared!

She’s just proving things to you!

She definitely isn’t doing this to receive words of praises from you again…!

Still, she holds the unattached leg of a maid tightly, her scalpel making clean cuts into the soft flesh.

"How is this cut for you?", is carved inside in no time. She knows, it’s petty! Hell! She’s feeling petty!

“Pretty cut, bla bla!”, she curses. “I’ll show you this cut!”

You will have to falter in fear with this one! How dare you not fear her?! She’s going to show you! She will give you reasons to be afraid!

A petty pout turns to a wide, excited grin, she drops the leg in front of your door and knocks her gloved knuckles against it quickly and hard.

She feels her excitement bubbling in her chest.

She resists the urge to giggle when she hears you move about and quickly swarms to the ceiling, her dark golden eyes wide and curious as she clings to the wall.

Cassandra nearly curses herself for the blush on her cheeks. Stupid, stupid blush!

She can’t stop thinking of your words from yesterday. Your praise…

Cassandra bites her lip hard as she frowns and pouts.

She isn’t doing this to hear you praise her work!

At last, you are outside the door. Cassandra frowns when you pick up the leg with no qualms at all. Not even a little shriek? She could groan and growl in her aggravation!

Then, her breath hitches when you read her message aloud, a small smirk on your lips: "How is this cut for you?". Your voice is pretty…you are.

Cassandra squeaks suddenly at your next choice of words.

"Aww, My lady is pretty cute"

She’s blushing hard again, her entire face warm and pink, all the way up to the tips of her ears!

Cute?!

Cute?!

CUTE?!

She hasn’t- she’s never- never had anybody-

Cassandra’s eyes widen when you look up, her swarm quickly flying away. She still hears your soft laughter and nearly swarms face first into a chandelier.

Cassandra hums to herself as she cleans her sickle of blood again, when she suddenly hears some unlucky maid walk down the steps to the basement. She grins in anticipation.

Ah, what poor, unfortunate soul have they sent to clean this time?

She walks slowly, yet finds herself frozen in her spot again when she realises it’s you.

You’re inspecting one of the maids, one Cassandra has just finished playing with. She gulps.

What’s going on in your mind? Why are you just watching in wonder?

She prays there will be no blush appearing on her face this time.

She straightens her posture a little, forcing herself to fall back in her confident, predatory state.

"Seeing your future, little maid?", she hums. Golden eyes flicker with excitement when you flinch and she hears your heartbeat rate increase.

Ah, she knew she could scare you! She smirks confidently and hums in delight as she steps closer to you.

"I make sure to keep her miserable as long as possible by-

"Making cuts that are painful but not mortal, absolute brilliant, nothing less of expert like you"

Cassandra feels flustered yet again. What? What?!

She stands with her lips parted, her words having died on her tongue. Thankfully, you aren’t facing her.

She feels her cheeks burning as your fingers graze her arm to move her aside, and in her shocked state, feels herself move back when you push her hip and arm gently.

She watches, dumbfounded, as you take a look around. You seem so curious! So admiring of her work! It’s making her feel so flustered!

She growls, quietly, as though demanding to stop her body from reacting this way! She already feels the pull in her chest and the ache between her legs, the warm feeling on her cheeks.

She recalls her sisters’s words and growls again. She does not have a crush!

Cassandra Dimitrescu does not get such silly things as crushes! Even on a goddess like you…

She watches with more curiosity than she’d like to admit as you inspect one of her recent victims, a man-thing, held up by hooks that go through his hands.

He’s gagged, to stifle his annoying whimpers and cries. Cassandra has grown tired of hearing them.

She tenses when you poke his broken legs and giggle to yourself.

"Very creative", you admire.

Cassandra, happy you aren’t facing her, pulls her hood all the way down in an attempt to stop and hide her blush.

She’s purring, but hopes you’re unable to hear it. For a moment, she hits her own chest, as though to make the purring stop.

Of course, it doesn’t.

Full of curiosity, it seems, you keep exploring.

Praises fall from your lips like droplets from a waterfall, each making Cassandra feel more and more flustered and needy. She shouldn’t be so flustered at this! And she definitely shouldn’t be getting turned on for this!

"Astounding"

"Visionary"

"Imaginative"

Her swarm buzzes so loud, she knows you must hear it soon. Upon finding you’re starting to turn around, she quickly grabs you as a swarm and carries you out the door.

This is a first, she thinks with a blush, Cassandra throwing someone out of the dungeons.

"Rude", you remark as she drops you rather ungracefully and disappears back down.

She swarms until she is able to shut a door behind her, her back sliding against it as she sinks to the floor.

Cassandra’s face is burning bright pink and her flies buzz all too happily. She wishes she could fight the large grin on her lips as she hugs herself and pulls her hood down to cover her face again.

In the following days and weeks, Cassandra can’t help but gift you more limbs.

She can’t help but want to shower you in gifts. You’re so…perfect…she thinks with a dreamy sigh.

Upon finding that human ones are often praised and returned to her, she opts for gifting you animal meat instead. This one, you praise her for too, knowing she is spying, and even cook!

She recalls a couple of her gifts for you

A deer leg with the words “you have pretty eyes” carved inside. She remembers nearly falling from her spot at the ceiling when you read it out loud and hummed: “Mhm, my favourite colour has always been a dark gold”

Those were her eyes!

Her blush only went away hours after you said that!

A boar heart. She spent hours looking for one and was so proud to gift it to you with the attached note written in blood: “Did you know they are the most similar to humans?”

She nearly gasped upon seeing the fond smile on your lips and hearing the pretty giggle.

A full, juicy bunny. “Small like you”, written in blood. She had blushed at the small that was pulled from you.

This goes on for a small while, until one day a group of hunters try to raid the castle and kill the monsters inside.

Of course, they pose no challenge to Cassandra at all!

She crackles in delight, even, at the opportunity to kill this many!

Still, she’s pouting angrily. Daniela has six already! Bela has five and a few spare limbs! And her? Cassandra has only caught four so far.

She curses under her breath. Why must she be slower than her sisters?! She trains by far harder than them! It’s unfair!

With a start as she looks at one of the dead maidens on the floor, she remembers you.

She realises, unlike her, your life is in danger! Was, seeing as the intruders are now taken care of.

Bodies, blood and all kind of gore is in the floors and the carpets of the castle. Cassandra is unbothered by it. She must find-

Golden, dark eyes widen in delight when she first smells, then sees you kneeling on the floor at the main hall.

You’re well! At least she assumes as much.

In her worry, Cassandra can’t help but pounce. She tackles you to the floor easily, her body on top of yours, her thighs on each side of your hips as she leans down to inspect your beautiful face.

"Are you okay?! Did they hurt you?! Tell me who-"

"I'm fine lady bela take care of them", you interrupt gently. She calms down a little, yet frowns again when she sees the three bodies piled on one another in the corner of the hall.

"You took three", she states, curious.

"Oh yeah, that reminds me" You point at the three bodies, and she follows it. They’re all of decent size, and she’s quite impressed that you were able to take them on.

Quite refreshing, for a human.

"They are all yours, Lady Cassandra"

Her eyes snap back to you in surprise.

Hers? A gift? For her?

She smells their blood when she inhales…they smell scrumptious! She wants to take them, so bad. Yet…

There is a rule among the three sisters, to avoid fights, or at the very least lessen them.

Only the prey they hunt can be eaten by them. No sharing, no taking another sister’s prey. She blushes as she is once again reminded of her pathetic four bodies.

Then, she perks up. With your three, this would make seven! She’d have caught the most!

She knows, she is stronger than them…just not faster.

"I killed them, so they are mine, but I’m not gonna eat them, so they are all yours”, you reason. Cassandra blushes again.

She eyes the corner with the pile of bodies and grins widely again. Yes! She accepts! Mother will be so proud! Her sisters will be envious!

You…are so painfully adorable, perfect, hot and make her feel so flustered…

She gasps audibly above you when you grasp her chin tightly.

She keeps staring at you, golden eyes wide when you lift your apron to her face and begin to clean the blood around her lips.

She feels your thumb slide across them and can’t help but attempt to press her thighs together- something that clearly does not work with your hips between them.

Her face is bright red, pink cheeks and tip of her ears, an entirely flushed and warm face.

“Cute”, you whisper, and she really wishes she could’ve stopped that squeak that came from her.

She gasps when your hand moves from her chin and grabs the back of her neck instead, and with wide eyes, she feels herself be yanked downwards and to your lips.

After a second or so, she at last catches up and eagerly returns your kiss.

She’s moaning and whimpering, panting against your lips. She’s so flustered, and yet can’t help but grin and hold onto your hips tightly.

"FINALLY, the pining was killing me!”

You and her jump at the sudden voice in the main hall.

She’s covering you with her body, as though to protect you from an attack.

Instead, Cassandra blinks when her warm cheeks are smudged by her younger sister’s palm.

Quickly, she snarls at her and rips her face free.

"SHUT UP, DANIELA!”

From there on, you’re in a relationship. Cassandra eagerly brings you more and more gifts and shows you her appreciation for your praise in just the right ways.

She appreciates, too, when you bring her gifts.

Often, these include bratty maidens or animals you find out in the garden. Sometimes, rarely, you find her a rose and dip it in blood for her. She’s blushing endlessly when it is gifted to her. It’s beautiful!

She sits next to Daniela, rolling her eyes and acting as though she isn’t listening when her sister tells her of her latest book.

Suddenly, you come into the library, dragging a maiden behind you. Her eyes sparkle in delight! Lunch and a gift!

"Knock first! I know you have manners", Daniela fumes.

Cassandra snickers. She coos at you and resists the urge to get up and cup your cheeks. Like hers, they are flushed red. Yet while hers is the result of feeling flustered, she feels your heart beat angrily.

Still, she teases eagerly.

"Aww, did my draga mea miss me so much?”, she coos.

You seem to ignore her words, but certainly not her.

Pride blooms in her chest as you walk up to the table and grip her sickle.

The maid you’re carrying is dropped, crying and begging as she attempts to get away from you and the two murderous sisters.

Daniela rolls her eyes when she hears Cassandra’s heart rate pick up. She just wanted to gossip!

“Oh!”, Cassandra gasps when you grab the crying woman’s head by her hair, pull out her tongue and cut it off swiftly.

She crosses her legs and pushes her thighs together harshly at the ache and sting of her clit.

Never has she seen something this arousing before. Her face is flushed bright pink and she’s panting from only watching you.

"AHH-UGH!”, the pathethic woman cries. Cassandra watches with a dark, sadistic glint in her eyes as you merely grab her again and bash her head against the floor.

Neither her, nor you mind Daniela’s groans about the beautiful floor of her beloved library.

One, two, three, four, five bashes. She is out, and Cassandra feels as though she is drooling and her lips are dry at the same time.

You drop the woman her and walked to the sadist, and she gasps again when you throw the sickle on the table.

All words are taken from her. She can only look at you, her cheeks bright red and pink, her eyes wide and sparkling with love, admiration and arousal.

“Mgmph!”, she moans as her grin is grabbed and you kiss her deeply until she is panting. She feels the blush on her face just grow bigger and warmer at your actions and whimpers at the embarrassing purrs that come from her chest.

Cassandra bites her bruised lip as her gloved hand is grabbed by you, and smiles almost shyly when the tongue of the maimed woman is dropped in her hand.

She’s crying on the floor, bloodied and unable to move. She knows, if she did, Cassandra would be on her within seconds.

"Here my love, a snack", you speak softly. Cassandra blushes even more. She’s thankful Daniela seems to have taken her leave.

She moans when you kiss her again, your warm tongue inside her mouth and dominating hers easily.

She whimpers, almost, when you let go of her and only cup her bright pink, warm cheek.

You brush her hair behind her ear, and Cassandra feels too flustered to meet your eyes for a moment.

"I still have duties to attend, I’ll see you later, draga”, you coo, and she nearly whines again. The pressure between her legs is becoming nearly unbearable. How can you make such a display and then attempt to leave her to her own devices?!

She knows, she must look like a lovesick puppy. No better than Daniela. Oh, but she can’t help it at all!

She grabs your wrist quickly when you turn around, and blushes harder under your gaze. You’re smirking at her when you turn back to her.

“Don’t go…”, she breathes out, her thighs spreading a little. Her head spins when you inhale and kneel before her, your hand boldly squeezing her thigh through the fabric of her dress.

It seems, your duties can wait. They must!

“I-I’m your superior”, she breathes out. “You have different duties to attend to, now”, she adds.

You smirk at the panting woman, and Cassandra bites her lip at your hum.

“If my Lady wishes so…”, you whisper back, a sly smirk on your beautiful lips.

Suddenly, Cassandra feels herself be yanked off the cushioned sofa and onto the floor. She jumps when you lean close, your hand grabbing the crying woman’s bloodied chin.

“You best watch now, bitch. This is the closest you’re getting to your goal, you filth!”

She whimpers at the arousing scene, though feels puzzled. What? She doesn’t quite understand.

“What do you- YA!”, she shrieks when her hair is grabbed by you and you spread your legs.

Pulling down your underwear and tugging up your skirt, you push Cassandra’s head between your thighs.

She moans, your scent is making her feel lightheaded.

“Start, Cass. We don’t have all day”

She presses her thighs together harshly. She’s so wet, she feels it even through her entirely soaked, black panties.

Cassandra jumps when she notices you step on the squirming woman’s lower back, trapping her in place as you grant her a view of Cassandra’s tongue lapping at your folds.

She blushes at this, but knows: the woman won’t last. She will serve her as a snack after the meal she is having just now.

“Mghmm”, she moans, her eyes closing and her hands resting on your thighs.

Cassandra can’t help but thrust her hips forwards as she drags her tongue through your wet folds. She wants- needs- you so bad. And you seem to be in a similar state.

You’re utterly soaked for her, your pussy drooling your arousal and love for her. She’s panting as she licks you over and over again, before she at last wraps her lips around your clit.

Sharp moans and your nails digging into her head are her reward. She moans loudly, the vibrations of her against your clit only adding to the pleasure she grants you.

“Go-ood, keep going”, she hears you groan. You tug her hair sometimes, and she moans at each move.

Cassandra squirms and gasps, sucking and licking your lips all too eagerly.

“Mhmmmn, mhhnnnm”, she moans.

She feels you grind your core against her face, your hips shaking lightly.

The pathethic cries of the woman only fuel her further and add to the dripping wet arousal between her own thighs.

“Mhnnngn, she’s wonderful at this..!”, you groan, and she blushes and squirms again.

She hasn’t got a clue what the maid has done to deserve your wrath, but doesn’t care either. All she can focus on, is your quivering thighs.

With another broad lick across your southern lips, she collects more of your wetness.

“G-Good, so clo-ose”, you moan, and it’s music to her ears. She feels even more shameful and aroused when she pushes her clothed core against your leg, her soaked, panty covered clit rubbing against your ankle as she ruts against you.

She hears you chuckle breathlessly at this. She’s so needy, so pent up…

As her gloved fingertips dig into you slightly and she sucks your clit a little harder, she feels you orgasm against her lips.

Cassandra moans with you, her back arched and her tongue eagerly lapping her remaining meal.

“C’mere…”, you moan, and she obeys eagerly.

With a single pull and push, it’s now her who is smushed against the cushions. Yet, her cheeks burn hotly. Unlike you, she isn’t sitting.

She’s bent over, her chest and face against the cushions, her behind sticking out for you.

She digs her fingertips into the soft material of the sofa when you lift her dress and tear her black, partly transparent tights easily.

“Y-Yes…!”, she groans, eyes rolling to the back of her head at your rough actions. She knows, she’s right on the edge and utterly drenched for you.

“Good girl”, you praise as you tug her black panties off. She feels the air of the room hit her cunt for a mere moment and whimpers in embarrassment when you place your index and middle finger on one southern lip each, then pull them apart to reveal her completely.

Her face burns and her pussy drools.

“See that?”, you pant. She assumes you aren’t talking to her and it’s making her feel even hotter.

“That’s all mine, you fucking bitch. Don’t you forget that ever again!”, you curse. She squirms, and moans hotly when she feels your tongue drag through her soft folds.

Her back is arched and her thick thighs quiver, her fat ass shaking when you slap it playfully.

Cassandra feels so good, right there from all your beautiful teasing and demonstrations.

She moans hotly when a finger is pushed inside of her, then a second follows.

Her pussy grips you tightly, and a wet, squelching sound is heard with each thrust inside.

“A-Ah! Ye-es!! Don’t stop!”, she moans, her voice high pitched and loud. She groans and moans when she feels your lips wrap around her clit and suck it harshly into your mouth.

“Mhnnnm! F-Fuck! Yes yes! YES!”, she screams.

Your fingers thrust in and out of her fast, rubbing her warm insides and curling at her G-Spot as they thrust.

Cassandra sees stars when your teeth graze past her clit.

Soon, by far too fast for her to feel as though she has any of her dignity left, she cums on your fingers and feels a soft pair of kisses pressed against her thighs.

“That’s it, my Cassandra”

Her head spins at the possessiveness in your voice.

[turtletaubwrites]

I Knew It Would Hurt ~ Part 9

Pairings: Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,715

This is part 9 of the Series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Series Link

Summary: You're waiting for the boys to make their decision. Waiting is really fucking hard.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Fem!Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, Smut, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Relationship Discussions, Relationship Drama, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Penis in Vagina Sex, I left out some tags to avoid spoilers but there’s nothing crazy if you’ve read this far already

A/N: Here's another rollercoaster, and it's the longest one so far! I'm super grateful for all of your interactions with this story. I've loved turning that little smut scene into this fun character dynamic, and I really hope you enjoy this next installment. Thank you!!

A soft knock at the door woke you, and for a moment you felt fine. Then you remembered. 

“I’ve got your breakfast, can I come in?”

Nami frowned when she saw you. She set your plate down on your desk, then pulled you into a hug.

“This whole thing seems like a lot of work. I’m here if you need me, okay?”

“Thanks, Nami. All I wanted to do was take a long shower, and now I might be breaking up with two people I’m not actually with.”

“Gotta be careful about those showers, they can fuck you up.”

You gave a laugh that might have been a sob before squeezing her tighter. 

“Love you.”

She pulled away, but grabbed your shoulders, leaning her face toward yours.

“Love ya too, weirdo. What do you need today?” 

“Um, can you bring me my field notes? Chopper knows where they are. I’m just gonna work in here today, I’m not ready to people.”

“Of course. I can bring you your other meals too if you want.”

Sighing as you nodded, memories of recent times in the kitchen fought you as you tried to shove them down. 

“Luffy really thinks you’re sick now.”

“He might not be far off. I feel like shit.”

After Nami came back to drop off lunch later, another knock came, freezing you on the spot. 

“Hi, it’s Robin.”

You cringed a bit, embarrassed for her to see you like this, but you let her in. Her eyes combed over you, lips pursing as she stepped inside. She kept a noticeable distance between you.

“Y/N, I came to apologize. I shouldn’t have been pushing you like this, I knew you were overwhelmed already. I’m so sorry I added to your struggle.”

“No, Robin, it's okay. You helped me! I really needed to hear what you said.”

Robin let out a breath, but her brows were still tensed. She looked down at the ground before meeting your eyes again.

“I shouldn’t have pushed myself on you. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Her normally steady eyes looked heavy, a sight she rarely shows.

Reaching for her hand, you felt a gentle smile warming your face.

“I’m not sorry.”

Her lips curled up just a bit, and she squeezed your fingers gently. 

“I’m so glad to hear that… How about we wait on that date until everything settles?” 

You almost argued that you didn’t need to wait, but you realized that you did. 

“Thank you, Robin.”

She brushed a strand of hair from your face, and you breathed in her lovely scent.

“Thank you, Y/N. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll do what I can to calm the rest of the crew.”

The comfort that Robin's presence left you with made you feel safer, warmer. 

But it was as if that feeling of safety made room for your body to feel the rest. 

Sitting at your desk staring at your field notes, your vision started to blur. You had to close your journal to keep tears from staining your monographs.

You kept your sobs silent, not wanting anyone to hear. Then you remembered why you’d gotten so good at keeping your screams quiet lately. You had to cover your mouth as you choked, louder sobs escaping you now. 

Why did I do this to myself? I knew it would hurt. Just not this much, not so fast. I should have stopped. 

But you hated that thought. The thought of not enjoying the short time you’d had with both of them. The pleasures, the laughter, the growing warmth. You didn’t want to lose any of it, even if it would hurt less. 

You tried not to think about what choice they would make. The only one you wanted felt selfish. You’d get to have everything.

And if you didn’t get to have everything, then it would be nothing. You knew that even if one of the boys chose to leave, and one wanted to stay, you couldn’t continue with only one. There was too much heat between all three of you. You knew it would drive an even bigger wedge between them, potentially tearing them, and the crew apart. 

I can’t do that. 

So it was all or nothing, and your body was preparing you for the worst. 

A knock shook you from your spiral and you moved to the door, expecting Nami. Wiping your tears and shaking your arms, you checked.

“Who is it?”

“Hi, Y/N. I’ve got your dinner, and I didn’t eat any of it.”

Your eyes went wide, but you let your captain in.

“Thank you, Luffy.”

He walked right in, setting your plate on your desk before plopping on your bed. 

You stared, not sure what to say. He pointed to your desk chair, and you felt suddenly terrified as you sat and faced him. He watched you like he was sizing you up.

“Robin told me and Chopper why you’ve been weird.”

“O-Oh?”

“I’m the captain, Y/N. I need to know my crew is okay.”

Fear iced through you, and you stared into your lap. He should kick me off the crew. I’m splintering his best fighters, endangering everyone.

His hand stretched toward you, and he touched your shoulder until you met his eyes. 

“It all seems a little crazy to me.”

You let out a near panicked laugh before you caught yourself.

“Yeah, me too.”

“But you care about them?”

His deep eyes looked so soft, his voice intense.

“I do.” 

Nodding, he crossed his arms. 

“They care about you too, Y/N.”

You felt your lips shaking, heat rising in your throat. 

“As long as you care about each other, and keep fighting for your dreams, I’m happy.”

Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as Luffy started to smile. 

“Can you be happy too?”

Your lips pulled into a strained smile as you tried to stop your tears. 

“I’ll get there, Luffy. It’s just rough right now. But I’m glad you’re my captain.” 

Luffy was beaming at you now, then stretched to ruffle your hair. He leaned toward you, and whispered softly.

“Will you keep giving me the extra food Sanji makes you?”

You burst out laughing, and Luffy’s smile stretched even wider.

“Yes, captain!”

Luffy grabbed you in a hug, twirling you as much as he could in the small quarters. This is family. 

As he left he gave you one more serious look. 

“Y/N, please tell me next time something is hurting you. I’m your captain and I need to know.”

“I promise, Luffy.”

All the emotions of the day had you feeling empty, but now it was more pleasantly numb. Your biggest fear of losing your place on this crew, in this family, those fears were shrinking away from you. Soft tears of relief left your eyes now, and you tried to comfort yourself against the hurt of losing Zoro and Sanji. At least I won’t lose them completely. 

That thought brought back more of the pain, but you shook it off. It was getting late, and you wanted to get some air. Steeling yourself, you picked up your dishes and went down the hall, hoping to sneak them into the galley before sitting out on deck. 

You crept against the wall, listening to check if Sanji was inside or not before heading in.

But you heard two low voices. 

“You don’t know her like I do.”

“I care about her, Marimo. I care about her enough to share her with you. Can you say the same?”

You tried to force your body to turn around, to head back to your room, but all you could focus on was not shaking the plate and silverware in your hands. 

Your heart was in your throat, and you felt faint as you waited for what felt like hours for his response. 

“Yeah, I can, idiot cook.”

A gasping sob escaped you, and you tried to cover your mouth. Instead, you dropped your dishes, the plate shattering at your bare feet. You stared at the broken porcelain, and started laughing hysterically. 

“Y/N!”

They both rushed out, concern in their eyes. 

“Are you hurt?” “You okay?”

You were too out of it to respond, and kept laughing as they both tried to lift you. Zoro won, lifting you in his arms, while Sanji brushed along your feet and legs, checking for glass. 

Your breathing slowed as you felt Zoro’s racing heart, and you felt like you could fall asleep in his arms. He carried you into the kitchen while Sanji swept up the broken plate.

Zoro placed you gingerly in the booth, his brows furrowed as he looked you over. 

“Needy, please. Are you okay?”

You smiled at the nickname, and looked at them both as Sanji joined you at the table. 

“I’m okay.”

Neither of them seemed convinced, but you couldn’t explain the rush of relief and happiness that had just torn through your already overwhelmed system. But you tried. 

“I didn’t mean to. But I heard you.”

You felt your lips quivering again as they both seemed to soften. 

“It’s okay if you still need some time to think-”

“I don’t need time my love-” “I’m good, Needy-”

Your cheeks hurt from the smile that stretched your face, especially when they both grinned back at you. 

Then your mouth stretched further into the biggest, loudest yawn you’d ever felt.

“You need some sleep-” “Let’s get you to bed, dear-”

Zoro went to lift you, but Sanji tapped his shoulder. 

“You just carried her, It’s my turn now.”

“I’m not letting a pervert cook into her bedroom when she needs to rest.”

“Boys,” you commanded with another yawn. “Flip a coin or something please, I’m tired.”

Your yawns were mixed with tired giggles while you saw them rustling through their pockets. Sanji’s satisfied laugh, and Zoro’s grumble gave away the winner. 

Sanji lifted you gently, and you smelled cigarette smoke and spices on his jacket. Zoro followed close, opening the door, and hovering while Sanji set you in bed, drawing the covers over you. 

“Good night, darling-” “Good night, Needy-”

“Night, boys…”

A soft knock woke you, and for a moment you felt all that sadness. Then you remembered.

You sat straight up in bed, hoping that it wasn’t a dream.

“Who-Who is it?”

“Your favorite navigator, lazybones. Do you want to come to breakfast?”

You jumped out of bed, stumbling.

“Yeah, I’ll be right out!”

Your reflection looked dazed, and you slapped your cheeks a few times, laughing. You hurried to get ready, and had to stop yourself from racing down the hall. 

Everyone was there, already digging into their plates. They all turned to stare at you with teasing, or cheesy faces. Your face flushed, and you bit your lip before climbing into the empty spot Zoro had saved for you. You were next to him at the edge of the table, where Sanji stepped up to bring you what looked like a mimosa with tangerine blossoms for a garnish. 

“Hey, why don’t I get one of those?”

“Apologies Nami, dear. I will whip one up for you right away. Would you like one as well, Robin?”

“That sounds lovely, Sanji.”

“Hey, don’t hog the booze, waiter. Make me one of those too.”

“You haven’t earned it, moss hea-”

Everyone's clamoring voices died down as you burst out laughing, almost hysterical, but so full of joy and relief. 

Luffy grinned, stretching to hit your arm lightly with his fist, Chopper looked confused, Usopp was asking Sanji for his own mimosa, and Nami and Robin laughed with you. 

The boys had stopped arguing, and were both staring at you. Until your skin flushed red again, and your laughter hiccuped and faded. 

“Ugh. I love you, Y/N, but this is gonna get annoying real fast.”

You stuck your tongue out at Nami as she winked, and fell into quiet joy while you tried to listen to the group. 

Sanji kept bringing you delicious gifts, and you’d wink at Luffy so he could snag them. Each time Sanji came your way he would give you a soft peck on the forehead, or shoulder, or knuckles.

A low grumble moved through Zoro, but all he did was wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth.

Feeling like you were going to pass out, you didn’t even hear most of what the crew were saying while they teased you. 

You caught yourself doing your happy food wiggle dance, and couldn’t seem to stop, even humming now and then. The crew left the three of you there, and you didn’t hear their goodbyes, just beamed lazily at them.

Sanji brought his plate to the table, and cleared his throat until Zoro begrudgingly scooted over, dragging you with him to make room on the bench. Sanji winked at you before diving into his meal, and you just sat there wiggling, out of your mind. 

“I knew you were fuckin’ needy.”

You laughed while Sanji spluttered, and you patted his knee to calm him.

“What do you mean, Zoro,” you smirked up at him, teasing. 

“You know what I mean. So fucking spoiled.”

“Don’t listen to him, angel. You deserve to be spoiled, to be-”

Another bout of hysterical laughter left you, and eventually they joined in. 

Finally, you gained some control of yourself, and tried to hold a conversation. 

“I’m so happy you both chose to stay with me.”

You stopped them both from speaking at the same time, realizing that it would be difficult to get much done with all three of you in a room. 

“We definitely need to keep checking in, and figuring out boundaries. I don’t think my brain is up for that today though.”

“What are you up for, my dear?”

“Mm, I like this,” you sighed, rocking back and forth against each of their sides. 

You caught Zoro rolling his eyes, and you stuck your tongue out at him. 

“What about you guys? Your needs matter too here. What do you need?”

Neither spoke for a minute, and you played with your spoon. 

“I guess, um…”

You looked up at Zoro, desperate to hear him actually express his fucking needs. 

“How do we figure out time for just us?”

He said those words softly, and you knew how huge it was that he hadn’t said it with anger or frustration. You smiled up at him, then at Sanji who seemed to be waiting with rapt attention. 

“Well, we can always check in, and change things if the system isn’t working out. But how about for now we stick to alternating days? Not just for sex, but for our time together?”

They both nodded, Zoro slowly, and Sanji with an eager smile. You squeezed both of their knees before reaching for the last of your mimosa. 

You sat back, and they both tilted to see you better. You fought more laughter at what a lovely pair they made. 

“Y/N, dear-” “So who-”

They glared at each other, until Sanji did a small mock bow to let Zoro go first. 

Zoro’s mouth twitched as he looked away from both of you before continuing. He didn’t meet your gaze when he finished his question. 

“Who’s turn is it?”

Your lips parted, and you watched them both look guilty while they waited for you.

This is crazy. How did I manage this?

Zoro cleared his throat, leaning with his elbows over the table.

“Yesterday was supposed to be my day.”

“Technically we didn’t finish my day before that.”

“You’re really gonna pressure her ab-” “You’re the one that’s pressuring her Mari-”

“Technically today was supposed to be Robin’s day.”

Your words shut them both up, and it took way too much effort to hold in your satisfied smile at their expressions. 

Zoro looked shocked again, as if he’d blocked that out of his mind. Sanji’s fists had clenched, and you could see the veins in his neck and face throbbing as he turned bright red. 

You couldn’t help it. A small laugh escaped you. 

“Don’t worry, Robin and I decided to wait on our date until things are settled.”

You could have sworn you heard a tiny whimper from Sanji’s throat. 

“How about we start things fresh with a coin toss?”

They both reached for a coin and threw them in the air, calling out the choice. You laughed as they both lost their own tosses. 

“Let me do it.”

You’d grabbed Zoro’s coin, and tried to mimic them. You kept throwing it onto the table, or failing to catch it. The coin would drop on your lap, both of them reaching for your thighs to grab it for you, growling as their hands touched. 

“Gods, can you guys just agree on which one of you tosses the coin? Pretty please?”

Sanji ended up giving in to your wishes again first, letting the swordsman toss. Then Zoro swore as the coin fell in Sanji’s favor. Sanji kissed your cheek while Zoro left the table after rubbing along your shoulders.

“See ya later, Needy.”

“Wait!”

You rushed over to your surly crewmate. The man who had walked in on you in the shower, and declared that you should fuck. You laughed softly at how crazy your life had been since that moment. And you couldn’t be more grateful for it if you tried. 

“What,” he asked, his brows tensing as you laughed.

“It’s nothing,” you whispered, standing on tip toes in a silent request for a kiss.

His look of surprise deepened your smile, and he gripped the hair at the back of your neck when he pulled you to his lips. 

A soft cough sounded behind you, and Zoro hummed as he pulled away to smirk at the cook. You nudged him out the door. 

Turning around, you saw his eyes wide, waiting. You leaned toward him, feeling his soft lips kiss the corners of your mouth before pulling you into his arms to breathe along your ear. 

“All to myself?”

Sanji’s raspy voice made you moan, your body still so ready even with all that had happened. You almost felt high, like all the emotions had left your body buzzing. 

You looked up into his soft eyes, watching his lips part when he noticed how heavy your breaths were. 

“D-Darling. I didn’t mean… Let me-”

He froze when you gripped his arms to keep him from pulling away. 

“I want all sorts of lovely moments with you, Sanji, and I know we’re going to have them.”

The sweet smile that bloomed on his face made your heart dance in your chest for a moment, and you had to take a deep breath. 

“I don’t want you to feel bad if we start today where we left off.”

You let heat fill your eyes as you wet your lips. Sanji’s eyes seemed to be pulled to your mouth, and you saw his breath hitch. 

“A-Are you sure?”

Grinning at him, you nodded as you bit your lip.

He lunged toward your lips again, but you pressed your hands to his chest.

“Maybe we should go to one of our rooms now that everyone knows?”

You gasped as he looked at you like he was about to eat you. 

“That’s too far, sweetheart. How about I take you in the pantry?”

You’d barely breathed out your ‘yes,’ before he lifted you into the air. He pulled you so fast, but still managed to grip you in a way that was comfortable. Your arms and legs wrapped around him, and he groaned while you kissed and licked along his neck. 

Setting you gently in the walk in pantry, he held your face while he kissed you before rushing out. You tilted your head after him, but moaned when he returned with a condom and lube. Memories of your first time with him, and the sting and pleasure of his thick cock pulsed through you. Your eyes fell back in your head, and he gave a satisfied chuckle as he turned on the small light before closing the door. 

“My sweet, Y/N… How can I show you how special you are to me?”

“You can tell me all the filthy things you want to do to me.”

You pulled your panties off from under your skirt and threw them at his chest. 

Sanji had to catch himself against the wall as he moaned, almost dropping the lube. 

He already looked wrecked when he met your eyes, and it drove you crazy. 

“What do you want to do to me, Sanji?”

He was panting as he watched you pull your skirt up, so slowly. You took the condom and lube from him, and set them on a shelf.

Skin on fire, you didn’t know what had gotten into you. But you wanted him now, and you couldn’t stop yourself. You pressed yourself against his chest, looking into his blown out eyes. Both of you cried out when you dragged your hand along his length, already so fucking hard. 

“Sanji, I asked you a question.”

Your words came out soft and dark. You watched his eyes flutter, and you wanted to speed him up. Taking his hand in yours, you whispered his name before pressing his fingers into your wet folds. 

He moaned so loud, and your knees went weak. He had to catch you, then he pressed you against the wall, shoving two fingers into you.

“You are so fucking perfect. My sweet, dirty angel.”

Crying out at his praise, your body started shaking for him. 

“P-Please, Sanji.”

He rutted against your thigh when you begged, and the feel of his clothed shaft rubbing against you made you whimper.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you. Such a beautiful, lovely girl. And you’re letting me touch you like this, where anyone could find us.”

He moaned into your ear, breathing in the scent of your hair. 

You cried out his name, already feeling on the edge, ready.

“So gorgeous. Let me take care of you, angel. Let me make you feel good.”

“Yes, Sanji, please.”

He fell to his knees with a moan, tasting your needy cunt with that skilled tongue. His two fingers kept up their work while he swirled his tongue ring around your clit. 

You had already started shaking before he plunged that third finger into you, and then you were gone. You shoved your own fist into your teeth, and panted as you bucked against Sanji’s face, coming on his tongue. 

He licked you up like he was dying of thirst, while his three fingers kept prepping you. 

He looked up at you, face glistening in the small light. 

“You taste divine, my sweet.”

You moaned as his fingers kept working you. 

“It’s probably time for me to prep for lunch, darling.”

You whined, grinding on his fingers. 

He groaned, then checked his watch. 

“Please Sanji. We’ll have so many more times to play for longer. Please fuck me against the wall right now. I know how much your perverted mind wants you to.”

You moaned as Sanji’s hand twitched inside you, his head falling back as he moaned. 

“Please Sanji, I know you’ll take good care of me. Please, please fuck me now. I know you’d love it if someone caught us.”

He fell forward, mouth hanging open as his face pressed against your hip. 

He was still taking too long. 

You gripped your fingers into his hair, and pulled his face to yours. 

“Sanji, are you going to make me beg?”

You watched his eyes harden, and cried out as his long fingers worked you with even more strength. 

“A lady always gets what she wants in my kitchen.”

You moaned his name as he stood, kissing his way up your neck.

His fingers left you, and you clung to the wall as you watched him free his cock from his slacks before dragging the condom and lube down his length. 

He came toward you, and lifted your leg so that your foot rested on a low shelf. His hands trailed along your neck, then your thighs. Your back arched as he teased his shaft along your entrance, the size of him so warm against you. 

“I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

His whispers against your cheek while he dragged his tip along your clit made you shiver for him. 

“To have such an exquisite beauty, coming on my face in the pantry.”

You cried out, clawing at his shoulders. 

He slapped his thick cock against your entrance a few times while you moaned for him. 

“To have such a gorgeous pussy, aching for me to fill it.”

“Fuck, Sanji, please!”

“Of course, darling.”

Biting your lip, your head fell back as you felt him against your center. Not even pressed into you, and your body was readying. 

“That’s good, angel. Breathe for me. You know I’ll take care of you.”

You moaned for him, scratching your nails down his striped shirt as he pushed into you, so slowly. 

“Gods, Sanji-”

“Shh, darling. Just breathe, and take me, baby. I know you can, you’re so perfect for me.”

Your pussy clenched around him, and he thrust the rest of the way in as he moaned. 

“Sweetheart, you okay?”

“Y-Yes, Sanji.”

“Good girl… So perfect.”

As Sanji’s thick cock started pumping into you, slowly, then faster and faster, you forgot where you were, who you were. Just the sharp pain and pleasure of him inside you, and his endless, delectable words were all that held you to reality. His breath was hot on your face and neck as he panted his praise along your skin.

“Y/N, your pussy is fucking heavenly, baby. Fuck. Just like that, I feel you squeezing me so hard. You want my cock inside you, don’t you angel. You want me to make you feel so good, to take care of my perfect girl.”

“Yes, Sanji. Please take care of me.”

He moaned at that, shoving into you, thrusts becoming staggered. He reached down, massaging your clit while you gasped.

“So soft, so good for me…There you go darling- fuck, yes Y/N, milk my cock like a good girl- fuck-”

Sanji came into you with whimpered moans while you shattered around him. He had to hold your slumped body up, gingerly removing himself from you while you cried out. 

You whimpered as he pressed soft kisses to your face, before reaching for your panties on the floor. He gave you a satisfied smile as he used them to wipe you clean, before using them to clean himself off after removing that very full condom. 

You moaned while you watched him rub your panties on his cock, his eyes heavy lidded even after what you’d just done. 

“You’re gonna need to buy me some new panties if you keep taking all of mine.”

His breath came out heavy as he smiled.

“Oh I plan on buying you so many special gifts, my sweet.”

Miraculously, you made it out of the pantry with time to spare, even rushing for a quick shower before heading back to lunch. 

Even though it was Sanji’s day, it looked like meals were going to stay a shared time. You sighed as you leaned against Zoro, dampening his shirt with your still wet hair. 

“Y/N, do you know if we still have any yarrow? I remember you said it can be used to staunch bleeding, and I’d like to keep some on hand if we run out of our other supplies.”

“Y-Yes Chopper. I believe we do, but I’ll check after lunch.”

I really should get back to work at some point. 

But with Zoro’s warmth at your side, and Sanji’s wink while he started on dishes, you weren't sure how you were going to do that. 

Especially when you met Robin’s deep blue eyes, and saw her lips curve in that teasing smile. 

Who knows the next time we’ll be in danger again? I should enjoy this bliss for as long as I can.

Your selfish little smile at that thought felt oh so good. 

I guess I really am Needy after all. 

Thank you for reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

Part 10

Tag List: @astheni-a | @ferns-fics | @heilee | @iamn1ya | @ghostfacefricker6969

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think about where things have landed! I know I've been posting daily updates, but I'm visiting family for the next few days so it might be a couple days until the next one. Unless I get bored, I will be bringing a tablet and keyboard with me 😅

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

[bked0n-lorazepam]

Hello could you do something where negan's girlfriend is in labour and his by her side supporting her and being so loving and when the baby comes (which is a girl) he crys and it's the first time his gf sees him cry and he promises his daughter that he will be a better man and an amazing dad to her

"His Girls"

Summary (Fluff): While Negan's girlfriend goes through labor, he comforts her and does his best to make her feel loved. When the baby comes, he cries and promises to do his best and be an amazing dad to her.

Warnings: Vulgar language, pregnancy, labor, pet names (Sweetheart, honey, baby), "daddy" is used as a joke

A/N: Hey! I'm trying to find a new set up to organize my works, so tell me what you guys think about this way. I hope this work is what you were asking for!!

---------------->

“Fucking feed me!” Negan’s girlfriend screamed, tightly holding onto the man’s hand as he winced in pain.

She’d been in labor for eight hours, and was only dilated by seven centimeters. Even though Dr. Carson specialized in pregnancies, he didn’t have what he needed at the sanctuary, so he couldn’t help her speed up the process. It was up to her body to go through with her labor, and it was going slowly. 

Negan sat next to her on their bed while Carson was filling up a syringe of a painkiller. He felt like his hand was going to break with how tight Y/N was holding it, but he knew he couldn’t complain. A watermelon sized baby was coming out of her vagina, for fuck’s sake.

“I know, honey. But you can’t, not yet.” He told her and reached their conjoined hands up, kissing the back of hers. He pursed his lips together after and watched as Carson took her arm and injected the painkiller into her.

“It won’t stop all the pain, but it’ll help a bit.” Dr. Carson reassured her and threw out the needle.

Negan grimaced and closed his eyes, listening to his girlfriend yell and scream. He hated how much this hurt her, and hated how he knew she felt throughout the entire pregnancy.

When they first found out, they were overjoyed. It was an amazing feeling, knowing that they would bring a life that they would share into their family.

It was only until after a few months where the pregnancy was taking an obvious toll on Y/N.

She never felt clean enough, and never felt good enough. When Carson ordered her on bed rest, she was absolutely pissed. 

–

“Sweetheart, you need to rest. Go lay down.” Negan had sighed and ran a hand through his hair, watching her tie her shoes.

“No, I’m going on this run. I’m sick of being cooped up in here, it’s miserable and I feel useless.”

–

They’d get into arguments all the time about how she needed to lay down and take things slow, even though she never listened. They’d always end with her in tears and them laying down together while he comforted her.

“Negan, I don’t want to do this anymore. Make it stop, please.” Y/N cried out and gripped the bed sheets tightly. He kissed her forehead and then her lips.

“I know, baby, I know. Just a little longer, you can do it.” He encouraged her and nodded. She nodded back before throwing her head back in pain and shouting out curses at the top of her lungs.

“I see the head!”

–

Y/N cooed at her new born daughter, rubbing her finger against her cheek. She was so beautiful, with a head full of brown hair and her big brown eyes that stared curiously back into Y/N’s.

“You’re gorgeous.” Y/N whispered and smiled. 

“D’You mind if Negan comes back in?” Dr. Carson asked her while packing up his medical supplies, having kicked out Negan when the baby was on its way so that he wasn’t in the way.

Y/N shook her head at Carson and he stood up, opening the door and calling for the man. Negan immediately came in and smiled at the sight of both of his girls.

“Hey.” He whispered, walking over to them. Carson left the room and closed the door, leaving the new family to themselves.

“Come here.” Y/N gestured him over and held her daughter out for Negan to hold.

He took her in his arms and grinned, cooing at her as Y/N did before. His daughter reached her small arm out of her blanket and grabbed at his nose and he laughed, carefully using his other hand to hold hers. He kissed it and she gripped his finger with her tiny ones.

“She looks just like her father.” Y/N said from her place on the bed as she witnessed the adorable exchange and took a drink of water from the cup that Carson placed on the bed stand.

Negan chuckled and stared into his daughter's eyes as she did his. “Now I’ve got two girls callin’ me daddy.”

“Fucking Christ, Negan.” His girlfriend snorted and ran her hands down her face.

They sat in silence for a few moments as Negan thought of all things he was going to do with his daughter.

He’d teach her how to cook, ride a bike, dress her up, take her on walks around the sanctuary. Maybe teach her how to play baseball, if Y/N allows him too. 

Knowing he now had his own mini-him in his arms made him want to cry, and it wasn’t until Y/N asked him if he was okay that he noticed he was. The warm feeling went down his face and fell down his neck, and he sniffled.

“I’m going to be the best man…that you will ever know. I’m gonna take care of you, and I’m gonna make sure you get everything I never had.” He leaned in and pecked her tiny forehead, her hand still holding his finger. 

“Yes, you will.” Y/N stared lovingly at Negan and their daughter, her own tears falling down her face. 

It was then that she knew she had picked the right man, and that she was in the right place. Everything was perfect in that moment, and they were going to be the perfect family. 

“I’m gonna name you Negan Junior.”

“Absolutely not.”