#My stomach hurts for jumping up and down so much in anticipation

[a-disturbing-self-reflection]

Im just a girl

[liketolovexx]

Okay I have a request for Regulus if you’re up for it… how about the reader having to wear him down because he believes he’s unlovable etc etc. but once she does, he’s the biggest softie, always gentle and caring and seeking her presence?? only if you feel like writing it though!!! Kisses

Hii! It’s taking me a while to get round to my requests but everyone feel free to send them in to keep me busy!! Kisses to u too my darling 🫶🫶

I actually turned out really loving this. It turned out a little angstier than I anticipated, though. Sorry.

Unlovable. ~R.A.B

{in which regulus believes no one could ever love him, but you’re here to prove otherwise.}

Regulus had been distant lately.

Avoiding you, which wasn’t normal. Not for you, at least. You’d been best friends, and the moment you started dating, it’s almost like something happened inside of regulus. He wasn’t around you much anymore. It hurt, honestly. To love somebody who hides from you. It took you a trip to the gryffindor common room, begging on your knees, incredibly puppy-eyes (that apparently all of the Black family is weak for, because it made Sirius melt too), a new chocolate bar for Remus and literally just a tight hug for James to get the marauders to lend you the map.

There it was. A pair of dark footprints teetering at the top of the astronomy tower, where you and your boyfriend often snook after hours, labelled ‘Regulus Black’ in elegant italics, much like his own trained penmanship.

The map was on the floor. You could vaguely hear James yelling at you not to drop it while you rushed to the tower. Lead curled around your heart, weighing heavily in your chest as you climbed the steep, eroded steps up to Regulus. You were thinking the worst. Your regulus was going to jump. Moonlight flooded your vision as you emerged, only to see a black silhouette stood precariously at the edge of the balcony. Your eyes widened and your stomach dropped as your very worst fears were reinforced.

“regulus?”

He spun around swiftly, his usual perfect black curls unruly and tousled out of the place by the cold wind. His eyes were wild and panicked and dark bags shadowed shadowed them. he was paler than usual, the white of his skin closely mimicking the pearly hue of the moon that ignited you both. You lifted your arms slowly, as if trying to calm a beast.

“Regulus, it’s me, it’s only me, sweetheart, calm down.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to know why you’ve been ignoring me.”

You said, keeping your tone calm as to not startle him. “Can you please come here? You’re scaring me.” Something changed in his eyes when you spoke that phrase, as if scaring you was out of the picture. He’d never want you to be scared of him, because he was meant to protect you. His rosy lip trembles, and at first you thought it was from the harsh chill of the night air, until it was accompanied by furrowed eyebrows, glossy eyes and him stumbling towards you with his arms outstretched like a child.

“Oh, Reg…” you hummed, cupping the back of his head with your hand as you tucked his face into your neck. His back started to heave with sobs so you used your other hand to rub soothing circles across his shoulders. “It’s so cold out here, you’re gonna-“

“Why do you fucking love me?” Regulus growled, his grip on you tightening almost aggressively.

“What?” You whisper, fear seeping into your veins. But in your heart, you knew regulus would never hurt you. He raised his head, staring deep into your eyes, face glazed in a mixture of frustration and despair.

“Why do you love me?”

You were silent. Why did you love regulus? Well, he was kind. Not to everyone, but to those he trusted, those he loved. He was incredibly loyal. He was a sensitive soul, underneath his facade. He was soft. He was beautiful. He was yours. But you couldn’t find the words to even begin to express the reasons behind your adoration for him.

“Regulus, you are… everything.”

His face changed. He looked almost bewildered, confused.

“What? I’m not anything. I’m from a family of fucking blood supremacists, I’m-“

You kissed him. He shut up in seconds when your lips pressed to his. “You’re fucking perfect. And you’re not them, Regulus. You’re perfect.” You told him sternly, gripping his shoulders hard, but gently. He broke down again, his face scrunching up as the tears began to fall. You pulled him in again. “No… no, I don’t deserve this. I- I don’t.” You shushed him, stroking his hair. “You deserve everything. And I love you. You deserve love most of all, Reggie.”

A week or so later…

Regulus was curled into your side in the slytherin common room. No one was there except him, Barty, and Evan. He’d fallen asleep with his head on your chest, and you didn’t have the heart to wake him to go to class, so Evan and Barty jumped at the chance to skip with you two. Though, Barty couldn’t refrain from making dramatic gagging noises whilst gripping Evan’s shoulder and lurching forwards every time regulus nuzzled closer to you in his sleep. He teased, sure, but really, he knew his friend had never been happier. He’d never seen regulus with so much sparkle in his eye. He’d never seen regulus so lovesick.

He’d never seen regulus so touchy with somebody.

He’d never seen him trust so deeply. love so unconditionally.

~~~

Please don’t copy any of my work!!

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hey! I saw your post about requests and I have one (I will try to keep it short):

Reader feeling self-conscious after having a baby so they start to work out only for Eddie to watch like 🤤🤤 which makes them stop being insecure because he’s still clearly very attracted to this body. 

Can be smutty or not, your choice.

If that’s not your thing no worries, have a happy Saturday! 

Ooh, I love this one! Thanks so much for the request, lovely!

cw: MDNI (18+) unprotected sex (please don’t do this) body insecurity, mention of pregnancy, hurt comfort

husband!Eddie x wife!reader

It had been a couple of months since you had your baby and you hadn’t even thought of anything but her for the first few weeks. After you had gotten into a rhythm with Eddie of taking care of the baby, it gave you more time to think about things. Like the chores that had piled up. Your job that you needed to get back to. Your body.

It had been months and you had done anything to get it back to what it was before you had Charlotte. Eddie hadn’t said a word about it, but you were sure that he wasn’t in love with the way you looked, especially since there was a bunch of loose skin. Maybe that was why he hadn’t had sex with you since you the baby had come.

Because of that, you decided to work out in your home gym while Eddie was at work. You put on your usual working out set which and noticed that it fit differently. The bra was a little tight and the shorts were shorter than you had anticipated. But, it was all you had, so you shrugged it off and headed down the stairs to work out.

The gym that you had spent so much time in suddenly looked intimidating. You hadn’t been in it since you had gotten pregnant since you didn’t have the energy, but now you were ready.

You put on your headphones and blasted the mix you usually played when exercising and began to stretch. You bent over and took a deep breath as you touched your toes. You then stood back up before bending back over and jumped when you felt a pair of hands grab your ass.

You whipped around and removed your headphones, turning to see your husband, Eddie standing behind you. He was still in his mechanic uniform and had soot on his face and all over his hands. He put his hands up in defense and stepped away to give you your space but you stepped forward.

“What’ya doin’?” He asked, taking the time to check you out in your very tight outfit. The way your bra pushed up your tits and the way your shorts hugged your ass in all the right places. God, you still had it.

“Working out. Is that a problem?” You put your hands on your hips, anger coursing through you.

“Not a problem at all, hon. I just-you’ve been a bit on edge lately.” You weren’t surprised that he noticed. He always payed so much attention to you.

“Of course I’m on edge, Eddie! Look at me!”

“I’m looking, honey,” he took you into his arms. “and I don’t see any issues.”

“Oh really?” You asked, pulling away from him, moving your hands to the lose skin of your stomach. “This isn’t an issue?”

“Not at all. You’re my honey and I-I love you just the way you are.” Eddie dropped to his knees and pressed multiple kisses to your stomach and hearing your laugh was music to his ears. “See? Love you and your stomach, bub.”

“Okay,” you laughed. “Okay, I get it. Now kiss me, please?”

“Already kissing you.” He pressed more kisses to the skin and it was cruelly making you feel better. Almost as if it was magic.

“I meant my lips,” you rolled your eyes. Even in a sweet moment, the man was so unserious.

“Which ones?” He looked back up at you with a wink.

“The ones on my face.”

“Gotta be specific. Could kiss every inch of you.” You knew that was true and almost wanted him to.

“I know you could.”

Eddie stood to his feet and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a sweet kiss, his lips capturing yours. Yours went to his waist, wrapping around them tight. As his lips moved with yours, all you could think about was his comment about kissing you everywhere. Maybe you’d take him up on it. That would surely do the trick to make you feel better.

You pulled away and he tried to chase your lips, but you kept your distance, wanting time to speak before he pulled you in again. He was always so good at doing that. Especially when you were in one of your silly arguments. He was always able to make you forget what you were even arguing about just with his lips.

“So um, about you kissing every inch of me…”

“You want me to?” Eddie’s face lit up and it made your knees weak at how excited he still was to please you after all those years.

“Please,” you begged and he was quick to pull you in for another kiss before his lips moved to your cheek and then your other one. Your chin. Your forehead. He then moved to your jaw and down your neck.

He got to your shoulder and moved your bra strap out of the way to get more access to it. He then moved to the other side to give it the same attention. His movements were slow and sweet and you could feel yourself getting wet at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

Once he was done with your chest, you lifted your arms up and Eddie pulled your bra off and his eyes widened as he caught sight of your tits.

“Fuck, honey,” he gasped, looking down at your chest. “You’re so fucking hot. Shit.” He bent down and licked a stripe across one of your nipples before bringing it into his mouth before giving it a suck while swirling his tongue around it. He then moved to the other one and did the same thing, wanting to give it the same attention.

“Oh,” you moaned. “So good, Eds.” He kissed all the way down to your stomach and pulled down your shorts to reveal your pussy. He lowered you to the floor and helped you removed your socks and shoes before fully taking off your shorts and tossing them behind him.

You slowly unzipped his uniform and helped him remove it before taking off his boxers and throwing them aside. You were so desperate for him that you didn’t even care about a condom. You would have been so happy if you turned out to have another baby. So lucky.

“Don’t have a condom,” he shrugged. “But I can go get one.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you pointed at him. “Need you so fucking bad, baby,” you whined.

“But what if-”

“I don’t care,” you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to say.

“So you don’t care about getting pregnant again?”

“Now that you’ve assured me that you really do love me unconditionally, of course I don’t care. Now please fuck me.”

“What the princess wants, the princess gets,” he winked and slowly thrusted into you, both of you moaning at the feeling of his bare cock inside of you.

He moved slow and steady and you couldn’t believe that you had actually gone so many months without him inside of you. It felt so good and he always knew exactly what you wanted before you did.

“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned and he smiled at the sound that he had missed so much. “Fuck, baby, right there, yeah.”

“Look at you,” he took your face in one of his hands and turned your face towards the mirror, forcing you to look into it. “See how fucking hot you look underneath me? Look at you taking me so well, doll.” You watched the two of you fuck in the mirror and were even more turned on, feeling yourself getting even more wet as you watched your bodies move together.

Eddie reached just to right spot and you turned back to him, your back arching in euphoria as you reached your climax, screaming his name as you did so. Afterwards, he pulled you to your feet and cleaned the two of you up before carrying you up the stairs so you both could take a much needed shower.

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

Akaza x pregnant demon reader (she's pregnant by him) sfw +nsfw headcanons

Ask and you shall receive! Thank you for requesting anon, I hope that you enjoy and that I've done your request justice.

If you want to request something for Akaza - or anyone else - then my askbox is always open and ready to receive, so slide something my way again when you have time (^__^.)

I'll be putting the NSFW headcanons beneath a 'Keep Reading' line, so minors DNI

And just as a final thing,

Akkkkkkaaaazzzaa (ﾉ∀`♥) My beloved!

Akaza with a pregnant S/O - SFW + NSFW Headcanons:

SFW:

Upon first finding out that your pregnant this man is frozen in the spot before actually crying

Gets extra protective

Doesn't like being away from your side for more then 20 minutes

He is absolutely a hover.... he's always by your side

Will attack on sight if he thinks anyone - and i mean anyone - looks like they might cause you and the little bean harm

Makes sure that there's nothing in the house that could potentially harm you - "I'm sanding down the corners cause i don't want them to poke you or harm you!"

Straight up tells Muzan that he's caring for his wife + baby so won't be doing anything else unless it helps his family - does this mid-meeting and then leaves

Somehow always comes back with something new, baby books (books for new parents), clothes for the baby and toys

No matter how random the cravings if he can't make it, he'll buy you it - and if he can't get it at all then he resorts to hugging you with apology after apology falling from his lips

"You want Teriyaki glazed apple slices with honey rice? AND spicy noodles with broth and boiled eggs...will your stomach even be able to handle that?"

Makes sure to stock up on snacks that you enjoy - keeps them in places you can't reach

When it gets to the point that he can feel the baby kick akaza is glued to you even more - Face and/or hand placed against your tummy to feel the baby with a soft coo + smile

Comes up with a thousand nicknames for the baby - e.g. baby bean, firecracker, little kicker - and no, he will not stop

Buys you bigger + airy clothes so your comfortable

Massages your shoulders, back and ankles when you complain of pain and soreness - When he's not there he buys a wheat bag which you can heat up

Lots more cushions and blankets around the house so your comfy and never get cold

Gets you one of those pregnancy pillows

Has a notebook filled with baby names, what toys re good for babies, what they should be sleeping and playing with - he's honestly very prepared for this child

Somehow managed to rope Kokushibou into helping make and paint the baby's room - as well as giving him advice on what to anticipate as a dad

NSFW:

Incredibly gentle with you - not that he wasn't before - especially since your so much more sensitive

He's more focused on making sure that your comfortable, so sticks to a couple of positions that don't harm/hurt your body - although he does enjoy reverse cowgirl and you on all fours (with your head and arms resting so you don't have the baby weight hurting you)

Sometimes standing up if you have the energy

Also enjoys sex while spooning

Spends more time preparing you - oral and fingers until your essence coats your shaking thighs as well as his face and hands

His hands wander, pinch and soothe your thighs, hips and chest until you whine to get touched more

Isn't gonna fuck you against the counter as much as he used too but he'll eat you out with vigor instead

Lots of over-stimulation - sometimes accidentally but usually on purpose with a smirk and a rumbling purr in his chest

More creampies!

Enjoy's pushing his cum back into your twitching hole afterwards - tracing shapes into your clit with it as he hums as your hips jump and thighs twitch at his touch

His breeding kink really kicks into full swing

The feeling of sliding into your wet plush heat without protection makes him even more feral especially now that you pregnant - its like knowing that your already filled with him, already baring a child, makes his brain works at a mile-a-minute

Won't admit that seeing how heavy + full your breasts get with milk - and how you glow the rounder your tummy gets - goes straight to his cock

....absolutely gonna drink your milk - a dark lust filling his eyes as he runs his tongue along your tender nipple before taking it into his mouth with an obscene moan

Will absolutely play with your nipples until your a whimpering and whining mess or until milk comes out

Kisses are more desperate - planting open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat before locking your lips together

Leaves hickies along your breasts and shoulders alot more

takes things slower and gentler

[sugoi-and-spice]

Commission for the AMAZINGLY patient @i-likebread . Thank you so much for such a fun idea and again, for your patience during my summer writing dry spell. ^_^

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader, Yuji Itadori x Reader

Summary: At the end of the day, curses were trophic beings. Sukuna? Of course, he was an apex predator. He knew how to wait, to watch, to be patient. To wait until his prey was in exactly the right position where victory, making the kill, was guaranteed. Enter: Yuji’s new little girlfriend. The ingénue. The prey.

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

CW: Dub-Con, Non-Con, Rape by Deception, Cuckholding, Rough Sex, Virginity Loss, Painful Virginity Loss, Manipulation, mentions of Ero-Guro

If you're interested in getting your own Commission done, please refer to my Commission Sheet and shoot me a DM or e-mail! ^_^

Cross-Posted on AO3.

Everyone had told Yuji Itadori that it was a bad idea. A very bad idea. After all, just dating as a Jujutsu Sorcerer at all came with its fair share of risks. Dating as a Jujutsu Sorcerer while sharing a body with the King of Curses? It should’ve rendered him completely celibate. But to go beyond that, to not only date, but to date a normal, powerless girl with absolutely no knowledge of the existence of Jujutsu society and curses?

Now that was downright stupid.

Those were Gojo’s words too! Satoru Gojo’s — the stupid idea savant! That had certainly gotten Yuji to second guess things. When he left to meet her for their first official date, he’d gone there with all the intentions of breaking things off. But then…

Well, there wasn’t any big revelation. She’d just been her. And he just couldn’t let her go. There were very few moments in his life these days that were able to be just sweet and simple. So any he could have, he knew that he had to cling to, and cling to tight. And moments spent with her? They made him feel like life would never be complicated again.

So six months later, here they were at the matsuri of a temple near her school. And boy, watching her knelt over the shateki stall, silly little tongue sticking out of her mouth as she concentrated so deeply on the balloon she was aiming at, could he not regret it any less. Especially not when she looked so damn cute in that yukata.

POP!

 “I got it!” she jumped back from the carnival game with a squeal, accidentally knocking Yuji in the chest with the pellet gun.

“Oomf—!”

She gasped, “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!” and rushed forward to check his chest, almost hitting him in the face this time, “Are you hurt?!”

He was able to anticipate it this time though, catching the muzzle of the rifle in his palm with a laugh, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Let’s just put this down, alright?”

She relinquished it immediately, bringing her hands to her face to try and cover her blush as she nodded frantically. The moment had finally caught up to her, the fact that she’d almost taken him out twice with the toy rifle and got completely in his face, touching his chest. And the cutest embarrassment came along with it. 

That was one of the things he really liked about her. She was shy and soft-spoken, but that didn’t stop her from ever living or hiding her true feelings when push came to shove. Especially when they involved other people. She often got ahead of herself, feet moving before her brain, throwing manners out the window if it meant helping somebody in need, blurting out the silliest little nonsensicals to try to ease an awkward silence. But never failing to revert back to that shyness and feel embarrassed about it in a way that always brought a smile to his face.

“Your prize, Miss.”

They both turned back to the game-tender, and Yuji instantly froze when he saw the prize being handed to her.

A little yarn doll, just big enough to be a keychain, and it— holy shit, it looked like—

“Aww, look at him Yuji!” she beamed, holding the doll up next to his face, “It looks just like you!”

He could feel his heart freeze with dread, his stomach twisting.

“W-What are you talking about?! No it doesn’t! It’s got tattoos!”

“Yeah. And four arms,” she rolled her eyes, “But look! It’s got your hair and eyes and that mischievous little smirk,” she wiggled it closer to his cheek, “That’s all troublemaker. All Yuji Itadori.” 

He swatted the little doll away from his face, growing more and more prickly the longer she held it so close to him, “Is not!”

She giggled, taking his whining as embarrassment over being teased rather than anything serious,and pulled the doll back to clutch into her own palms lovingly.

“And it’s cute…” she blushed a little as she whispered, “...just like you.”

Yuji softened at the sight. 

He needed to take it easy. It’s not like she could know the history there, the thing it actually looked like — he’d made absolute sure that she hadn’t, after all.

But still, the question remained:

“What’s it supposed to be anyway?” he asked, “A mascot or something?”

He had to know, it was just uncanny how much it looked like Sukuna. And this temple didn’t have any ties to the Jujutsu world that he knew of. Not that he knew a lot. But he hadn’t seen any sorcerers or cursed energy residuals in the area. If anything, it was weird how few curses — even flyheads — were in this area, considering how old the temple was.

“I guess it’s the guardian spirit of this temple,” she answered.

Yuji’s eyes widened. No. No, there was no freaking way.

“This thing?” he pressed in disbelief, “But he— I mean it looks more like a demon than a guardian spirit.”

“That’s kind of the interesting thing!” she explained excitedly, “My homeroom teacher was telling us about it last week. I think the story goes, that in a war between spirits and humans, the peasants this temple served were constantly caught in the crossfire. That is, until a dedicated, benevolent demon came along and vowed to protect the temple even while the rest of the world burnt around it.”

She presented the doll to him, “This little guy is that demon.”

It was all Yuji could do to not roll his eyes at her. Okay. Now he knew it was just a coincidence. Because sure. Benevolent. That’s what Sukuna was. 

What a bunch of crap.

Oi. Sukuna suddenly gruffed in his head. I’m plenty fucking benevolent. 

Yuji went rigid. Sukuna didn’t talk to him often. And honestly, he preferred it that way. He could nap and plot and flit away the time however he did in his own soul, while Yuji enjoyed the life surrounding his. Rarely did he actually tune in and observe Yuji’s life unless there was a battle or an… opportunity at hand.

So the fact that he seemed to be paying attention now was more than a bit worrying. 

What, you gonna tell me that the story is true or something? Yuji snapped right back at his squatter bodymate. That you actually protected a temple?

Could be.

Yuji’s breath hitched.

O-Oh yeah? he demanded, trying to not reveal his wavering confidence. And what was the catch? There’s no way you were some guardian out of the goodness of your heart.

He could practically hear Sukuna smirk inside his head and it unnerved him. Sukuna was privy to all kinds of information about curses and Jujutsu that Yuji learned at school, a lot of which even involved the King of Curses himself. Yet he hardly had anything to comment on then. So why was he so damn talkative about this story?

I protected the shrine… Never said shit about the people in it. And then that horrible, raucous laughter of Sukuna’s echoed in his head.

“Shut up!”

“Huh?”

Yuji snapped back to his girlfriend, who stared back at him with wide, confused eyes. Shit. He said that outloud, didn’t he?

“Sh-Shut up— no way they’ve got fluffy ice!” he tried to save, pointing past her to a nearby stall, “We gotta get some!”

She looked behind her, following his finger, and then laughed, relieved that it was something as simple as that rather than something she might have said, “I swear, all you ever think about is food, Yuji.”

“That’s not true… I think about you a lot.”

…is what Yuji would’ve said if he were smoother, more confident, and convinced that a line like that wouldn’t send her running for the hills. But of course, he wasn’t any of those things. So he just rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish laugh and nodded when she suggested they go get in line for some.

He wanted to just enjoy the night, to forget about curses and Jujutsu and most of all Sukuna — he practically dared the curse to make another fucking remark, to get all of his unwelcome commentary out now while he could. But the inside of his head had gone, thankfully, radio silent. So he made peace with the fact that Sukuna had gotten bored with all of this and had gone back into his own soul to sleep.

But no. Sukuna was not gone, nor bored. Far from it.

He was hungry.

Sukuna watched Yuji’s little girlfriend through his host’s eyes.

He’d excused himself to go use the restroom soon after they’d gotten their fluffy ice to split, and now he’d just stopped to watch her, sitting on a bench near the edge of the temple, the mouth of the forest, and enjoying her frozen treat with childish glee. The lovestruck fool was living in the moment, watching her with a heart full of warmth and just wanting to take it all in.

For Sukuna however, his stare was full of a hunger growing more and more ravenous with every second.

Of course she looked delicious at all times.  In her school uniform (girl’s uniforms were one of the few innovations of this era he could fully get behind), in her gym clothes the times she and Yuji went jogging together. Even that little floral sundress number she’d worn on their last date had really gotten his motor going. She was just a gorgeous little thing, and exactly his type.

Sickeningly sweet and salaciously stupid.

 But there was something about her right now, dolled up in a snow white yukata, walking under the warm glow of the traditional lanterns, down the path of a temple he once called home — she looked like she could have existed just like this, a thousand years ago. That she could’ve encountered him when he was at the height of his power, looking just like this.

It took everything in him not to utter “Extension” and tear her to pieces in front of every pair of prying eyes right here on this stone path. 

But no. He had to control himself.

He had to plan his moves carefully, he couldn’t just cause havoc willy-nilly, not without raising an unignorable alarm for the Jujutsu Sorcerers to put Yuji Itadori and himself down like Old Yeller. No, now was not the time to rape and pillage and have his fun.

It didn’t mean he was happy about it, though.

Somehow, there was something even worse about not being able to have his way in this form then it had been when his soul was fractured for a thousand years. At least before he’d manifested, he was held back by the fact that it was impossible to do anything else — he literally couldn’t have physically let loose even if he wanted to. He was essentially stuck in purgatory.

But now, when he had the full ability to ravage but had to keep himself in check, with only himself and his self-preservation to answer to? God, it practically fucking burned. It wasn’t right. If he didn’t get some kind of outlet soon, he was going to go crazy. 

It was like he was a dog, kept chained and locked up within the cage of his own skin. But that’s not what he was. He wasn’t a fucking housepet. He was a hunter, a predator.

And a damned good one at that.

There was a huge difference between other Curses and Sukuna. The sorcerers had decided to define this difference by grades. But Sukuna believed that the real explanation was much less academic, much more simple.

After all, just because a curse was “Special Grade” didn’t mean that it was worth a damn. It could have all the cursed energy in the world, but if it didn’t know how to properly hunt? It’d be lucky to last a century. 

They were trophic beings at the end of the day.

Low-level Curses, like flyheads? They were, at best, Primary Consumers. If he were being blunt, most of them were Producers, barely above algae. They tended to draw in more Jujutsu Sorcerers than they were worth. Sitting fucking ducks.

That waste of space from the Juvenile Detention Center? A Secondary Consumer. He could pick off the herbivores that were humans. Injured zebras falling behind the herd like his host and the little girl with the hammer.

And the little patchwork punk? The one that dared to put his pathetic mitts on his soul twice? Sukuna would be generous and call him a Tertiary Consumer. He sure did give that Seven to Three Sorcerer and his host a run for their money.

But Sukuna, himself? Of course, he was an apex predator. He knew how to wait, to watch, to be patient. To wait until his prey was in exactly the right position where victory, making the kill, was guaranteed.

Enter: Yuji’s new little girlfriend. The ingénue. 

The prey.

…

Okay, so maybe she was some low-hanging fruit, but it’s not like he could be too choosy. And boy was she ripe for the picking.

Besides, a top of the food chain hunter such as himself knew how to make some fun, a chase out of anything. 

Yes, little Yuji Itadori should’ve listened to his teachers. Dating a non-sorcerer, bringing such a tempting piece of meat into his eyeline and waving it around so proudly was a very bad idea.

And Sukuna lived for bad ideas.

“Extension.”

She perked up as Yuji re-approached, “Hey—!” then paused, head cocking as she noticed something… different about him.

“What’s with the…?” she gestured over her face, indicating the black marks now running across his skin.

“They were doing some face-painting at one of the booths,” he answered simply, lowly, “Looks good, right?”

She flushed a bit at the timber of his voice, eyes dropping to the cup of fluffy ice in her hands. Even imitating Itadori, there was a huskiness, a darkness in Sukuna’s voice that couldn’t be masked. And it sent shivers straight up his prey’s lovely spine.

“Y-Yeah… Looks really good.”

He smirked. Trap set.

“Really good, huh?” he purred, sitting on the bench not only next to her, but with his legs pressing hard against hers.

Her cheeks flushed, giggling as he slid his arm behind her shoulders on the bench, and giddy embarrassment set her body afloat. She liked this, liked it a lot. She always wanted Yuji to sweet-talk and touch her like this, more than she really should honestly. But she was way too embarrassed to ever admit that herself. So this extra flirty mood he seemed to be in at the moment was sending her straight to Cloud 9.

“...Uh— Uh-huh. R-Really good.”

She hazarded a look at his face again, the intensity, the uninhibited desire burning like coal in those lazy-lidded eyes sending an all new feeling of excitement through her body. One she’d been denying for a while.

With a squeak, she looked back forward, jutting the cup of fluffy ice over in his general direction, “D-Do you want some more?!”

He barely paid the measly little treat any mind, far more invested in the delicacy so pretty and wrapped up in an obi for him. 

“Yeah, why not.”

She turned towards him, eyes focussing on his tight chest rather than his sinful eyes, so that she could pick up the spoon and feed him. But before she could even touch the utensil, he reached past it, towards her, and caught a little drip of sweet syrup at the corner of her mouth with his thumb. 

Her breath hitched, loud and embarrassingly. But this only seemed to spur him on. He brushed it slowly along the length of her lower lip, pressing it in ever so slightly when he got to the center, kissing the pad of his thumb to her teeth. He could feel everything about her through this, the way her throat bobbed anxiously, the shuttering breath against his skin, the way her tongue sank forward instinctually to meet him. 

She couldn’t help it, the hypnotic lull that it pulled her into. Her eyes started to shutter closed, but in doing so she noticed something.

His nails.

Sukuna clocked this almost simultaneously, whipping his hand back before she completely lost her stupor and bringing the thumb to his own lips, nails hidden from sight. He made a show of licking the residuals of sweetness off of it, eyes boring straight into hers.

“Tastes even better this way,” he purred.

She flushed and turned away quickly and completely, her back to him, beyond embarrassed, “Y-Yuji—!”

“What?”

“That’s so embarrassing,” she squeaked.

“What do you mean?” he husked, leaning in from above her, pressing impossibly closer into her back, “What’s so embarrassing about loving the way you taste?”

Sukuna could feel her cheeks heat up as he slotted his nose into her shoulder, “In fact…”

He pressed his mouth, motionless, into the nape of her neck. He breathed into it, doing everything in his power to get a whisper of a taste of that skin, without devouring her whole.

“I’d love to taste more.”

He ran his hands down her arms, nails catching on every goosebump. They were going slow, teasing, but they weren’t stopping. No, they were not stopping their descent. Not until they got to—

“Y-Yuji,” she gasped out an embarrassed laugh as his hands slipped down to cover her own over the cup, sticky and cold from the fluffy ice dripping forgotten over them, “Come on, there are people around…”

“And?” Sukuna’s fingers weaved with her own squeezing tight, his hips slanting flush against her ass, “If there weren’t people around?”

She tilted her head back, startled by how close his lips were to hers when she did so. Startled, but not scared off. No. Intoxicated. Caught in the center of the spider’s web.

Trapped. Right where he wanted her.

Sukuna’s smirk widened and he caught her lips, all pretense gone. He was going in for the kill.

There was a reason why she was easy prey, and it wasn’t just because she was meek and malleable, easy for Sukuna to overwhelm even without powers.

It was because she wanted this from Yuji, had wanted it for a while, actually. If he didn’t know from all the needing looks and batting lashes she’d sent his way over the last six months — a virgin whore if he’d ever seen one —  it was more than obvious now. The way she grinded against him, gasped excitedly as he shoved her against a tree, back arching as he turned the top of her yukata into a belt, exposing her bare chest to his rough, relentless palms.

He was brought back to the other fucks he’d had under this very tree, when he’d been able to dig his claws into the flesh of shrine maidens until he felt bone. Or that village girl whose spine he’d snapped in half as he came.

This wasn’t nearly as physically exhilarating as those times, but there was something oddly even more exciting about it on a sentimental level. Of course, it was his first fuck in over a millennia, and a virgin at that (his fucking favorite), but she was Yuji’s too. 

Yuji’s girlfriend, Yuji’s love, Yuji’s prize to be won — and he’d stolen her right under the brat’s nose. The only thing that would make it better would be if Yuji could actually see it right now.

He could let that go for now though, especially considering how pliant and eager she was, the way she held back her yelps and locked down any complaints as they slipped down to the cold, crackly ground, her bare back grinding hard into the bark. He knew that it hurt her, he could smell the blood and feel the way her breath hitched in his mouth, and yet miraculously, she didn’t say a word. She wanted this to happen, she wanted to make him happy. And she was too shy to voice anything that might result in otherwise.

“You ready?” he purred, already shoving his pants down to his knees and giving himself a few preparatory pumps, regardless of her answer.

She gulped, and nodded hurriedly.

As soon as he moved her panties to the side and rubbed the head of his cock against her entrance exploratorily, Sukuna knew she was lying. Her body was clearly not quite there. She was plenty wet, sure, but she was still tense from the nerves, and shallow from the lack of prep. 

That was fine though. Actually, it was great. That added ring of resistance? That’s what made virgins and victims the absolute perfect prey, that’s what made them intoxicating.

He couldn’t have held back if he wanted to.

Without any other warning, he slammed his hips forward, fucking her fully.

She cried out with a volume that was clearly not all from joy. She was hurt. And he almost came on the spot at the sound.

“Are you okay?” he asked, just to keep in character. He didn’t care either way.

“Mm—! Mm-hmm!” she nodded frantically, tears clear in her eyes and hesitant to open her mouth, lest she reveal the actual pain she was in.

Oh, a little tough girl, huh? He could fucking fall in love.

Sukuna kept a serious face, but inside he was splitting in two, smiling.

“You sure? Do you want me to stop?” he insisted. It’s not like he would, even if she wanted to. But the idea of her powering through the pain, begging him to keep going even as he broke her? It was just too good to pass up.

“Y-Yes,” she yelped out in such a sweet, strained voice, “P-Please, keep going Yuji!”

He reached forward, running a hand through her hair, that once perfect little updo now frazzled and ruined with leaves and dirt, “I’ll be gentle, okay?”

She sniffled and put on a brave, quivering smile, nodding. He dragged out of her to the tip, slowly, expertly, pulling from her the first little gasp of pleasure.

Then he bottomed out inside her.

She cried out loudly, nails clinging into his back with vicelock strength as he fucked her, truly fucked her. She tried to make those cries sound pleasured, like moans. But she couldn’t hide the screams they truly were. She pulled him closer so that she could try and muffle them into his shoulder. 

But that wouldn’t do. No, that would not fucking do.

The hand in her hair tightened, pulling her head back harshly so that she had nowhere to direct her noise but into the night sky as he pounded into her. She bit her lip, trying to keep them at bay.

“Fuck, it feels so good,” he groaned, genuinely, “What about you, baby? Do you feel good?”

She tried to just get away with nodding and whining.

“Tell me baby,” he pressed, “Tell me it feels good.”

“I-It… It feels good!” she finally cried out, desperate for him to stop, “Y-Yuji, it feels so good!”

He pressed his lips into her cheek, almost cumming on the spot as the streams of tears down her skin touched his tongue.

“I love you so much,” he growled shamelessly.

She smiled a face-splitting smile, eyes wide and puffy, and body completely open and raw, as she tried to love away the pain.

“M-Me too!” she almost gagged, “I love you too!!”

In this life, the previous, or even the next, Sukuna was sure he’d never cum as hard as he did when he saw that face. 

Yuji stared down at her in absolute horror. What had he done? No, what had he done?!

His girlfriend, that pure, perfect girl, the one true light of his life, was laid out beneath him, a complete mess. Covered in dirt, hickeys, and a sheen of her own sweat and tears. 

Raped.

Her bare chest rose and fell heavily (he could be thankful for that at least), and her cheek rested against the twisting roots of the tree they were under as she tried to catch her breath.

No.

No, no, no, no, no—

Her eyes blinked open as she felt a splash against her flesh, pulling her from her post-sex daze. She turned to look up at Yuji, instantly shocked to see him hunched over her and sobbing uncontrollably.

“Yuji?” she gasped, “Yuji what’s wrong?”

“I… I-I just—” he choked, trying desperately not to throw up. His fingers ran shakily across the divots in her skin, the scratches and bitemarks, “Are you o-okay?”

She followed his stroking hands to her marred shoulders and whipped back to him with a gasp.

“Ohhh, sweetie no— don’t worry about those! I’m fine!”

“A-Are you sure?” he rasped.

“Of course!” she pulled him down into a tight embrace, “I loved it, Yuji.”

Those words stabbed him harder and hotter than anything else she could’ve said. Made it all so much worse.

“I absolutely loved it.”

Like what you read? Consider getting your own Commission! ^_^

[callme-holly]

I was wondering if you could please write a Steve Randle x sister reader where maybe she is walking to the DX from school and gets jumped (similar to the Winston sibling one) but she gets away. So once she gets to the DX soda is the first to see her so he calls Steve over and he just goes full big brother comforter and protective mode. 😂 sorry if none of this makes sense

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐱 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 '𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 '

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - omg I finally got this done! I might edit it a little tomorrow and I need to find a pic to go along with it but I just wanted to get it out today. Hope ya'll enjoy and as always my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 1.2k words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - talk of getting jumped, slight injury detail (not graphic), mild swearing

Your hands shake and your lungs burn as you try desperately to catch your breath, your whole body burning with exertion. The sun feels unbearably hot on your skin, sweat runs down the back of your neck, and you stick your shirt uncomfortably to your body as you force yourself to keep moving, trying to put some distance between you and that goddamn blue mustang. 

You’re panting hard, every muscle aching, and your chest burning with the effort it takes to draw air into your body and then let it out again. Blood trickles down the side of your face, hot and sticky against your skin, while the gash above your eye stings with pain.

You must look quite the sight: bruises blossoming on one side of your face, blood drying beneath your nose and lips, dirt matting into your tangled hair. Your knees are scraped raw through your tattered jeans and bleeding sluggishly in places, but you refuse to stop until the DX is in view, letting out one finally ragged breath before collapsing back against the side of the building. 

You lean there for a second, your head swimming and your vision blurry, your breathing coming in shallow pants. The world is suddenly spinning a little too fast, and your stomach lurches unpleasantly, forcing you to take another deep, shuddering breath. You feel sick, nauseous even, and everything hurts like hell, which is probably just as well considering how much energy was spent running from that damn car. You rub a hand down your face, grimacing when it comes away red and wet with blood and sweat.  

“Great..” You mumble, wiping at your split lip with the sleeve of your jacket, before pushing yourself shakily to your feet. “Fucking great…” 

You stumble forward, taking care not to trip over your own feet, as you shove open the door to the little store, the bell jangling obnoxiously above you.  

Inside, the air is cool, the air conditioning is whirring noisily overhead, and you close your eyes and breathe deeply. It helps somewhat, your head clearing a little as you head for the counter where Sodapop is pouring over a magazine. He looks up briefly as you shuffle towards him, his eyes widening in recognition.

“Holy shit–” he discards the magazine in a sudden rush, jumping over the counter and grabbing hold of your arms gently. “What the hell happened?” 

You wince, pressing your forehead against his shoulder to avoid looking directly at him. His touch is steady and grounding, but you still flinch as he tilts your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

“I got jumped.” You grumble, trying to shrug off his concern, but it proves a little more difficult than anticipated. 

Soda makes a concerned sound in the back of his throat, guiding you to sit in the chair he’d previously been in. “By who?”

“Those damn socs,” you grit your teeth together. “The same ones who got Johnny.” You pause. “And Pony.” 

His expression shifts immediately and he releases your shoulders, turning to head for the back. “I'll get Steve.” 

You nod absently, looking down at your jeans, picking at the loose threads in the knees, and rubbing at one of the bloodstains. You wipe your palm across it roughly and grimace, knowing that it'll be a pain in the ass to wash out later on. 

It’s not long before you hear the backdoor bang open and footsteps hurry inside, the telltale sound of Steve’s voice booming throughout the room. 

“I thought I told you to go straight home from school. The hell are you doin’ here?” His tone is sharp and impatient, but there’s no real bite to it, and you can see the concern in his eyes as he stops in front of you. He grabs a hold of your chin, his touch a little rougher than Soda’s had been, his eyes scanning over your face as he inspects your injuries.  “Who did this?” 

“No one,” you say quickly, pulling away from his grip. “Just some stupid ass kids at school–” You falter, watching as your brother narrows his eyes at you, suspicion and frustration warring on his face.

“Bullshit.” He scoffs, heading around the counter to grab the first aid kit tucked away under the register.  “Don’t even try to lie to me. Who was is?” His hands move deftly as he opens the kit, digging through the box and pulling out a few supplies: a bottle of rubbing alcohol, gauze, and bandages. 

“Why were they messing with ya? What did they want, kid?”

You frown, feeling the cut on your temple flare as your brow furrows. “I don't know what they wanted,” you spit out, glaring at him as he begins to wipe at the dried blood on your cheek. “They just started yelling at me until I yelled back, and then they came at me.” 

““You yelled back?!” He barks incredulously, pausing momentarily to shoot a glare your way. “Jesus Christ, kid, have I taught you nothing?” 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “Like you're any better.”

There's a long pause as the two of you glare at each other before Steve sighs, shaking his head and beginning to wipe at the cut on your brow, ignoring your protests as he does so. 

“Whatever,” he grumbles out. “But you’re the one explaining this to dad if he asks.” 

If… You think bitterly. You doubt your father will even notice; he doesn’t usually. 

Steve pulls back after a moment or two, examining his work with narrowed eyes. Then, seemingly satisfied with what he sees, he closes the first aid box and tucks it back beneath the counter. He turns around and fixes you with a stern look, arms folded across his chest.

“You didn’t hit your head too badly, right? I don't want you gettin' a concussion or nothin.” 

You snort derisively and shake your head. “Nah, nothing I can't take.” 

“Good,” He says curtly.  Then he glances behind him before leaning forward, his eyebrows pinching together. “Now, tell me who did this. And I want the truth.” 

You hesitate. The last thing you want is for him to go out and start something to get himself into trouble. But it won't help to lie now, not when Soda already knows and will no doubt let it slip sooner or later. 

So, reluctantly, you tell him everything, and by the end of it, his eyes are wide with shock, his hands clenched into fists, and he's muttering profanities under his breath.

“Are you fucking serious?” he snarls. “How could you let them beat the fuck outta you like that? Why didn't you run?”

You blink and stare at him in confusion for a minute, confused as to why he was so upset, until realisation dawns in your eyes.

He's scared… Scared of losing you. 

You give him a crooked smile. “‘Cause you would’ve done the same thing. You would’ve fought back, the same as I did.” 

He glares at you fiercely, his mouth opening as though to reply but no words seem to come out. “You’re an idiot.” He snaps after a while, and you grin.

“Takes one to know one.” 

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[the-guilty-writer]

I second the ask about Hotch's daughter with endometriosis!!! I'd like to see that

I just finished it ♡

Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

You truly wondered how women with endometriosis survived periods before thermotherapy products were invented. Hot water bottles and heating pads were a necessity for you during this time of the month. It wasn’t that they made the pain go away - they just made it bearable enough to allow you small bits of time where you could do something more than laying down.

At the moment, a hot water bottle and a maxed out dose of Ibuprofen were holding you together - barely. After twenty minutes at school, you were sent home by your English teacher, who was concerned about your nauseous complexion. Somehow, you'd managed to do some make-up work before taking a long (and much-needed) nap.

With your dad away on a case, the list of chores was longer than normal, but the pain made moving nearly impossible, much less cleaning. Dishes needed to be put away, the kitchen table needed to be cleared, and he laundry hamper was flooded with clothes, but there was no way you could do any of it while your insides felt like they were going to fall out. The only thing you absolutely had to do was pick Jack up from school. Everything else could wait.

All the energy you’d gathered went into the ten minute drive to and from picking up your brother. He requested a snack as soon as you got home, which you somehow managed to make him food without screaming in pain. It took every ounce of energy you had left to sit at the table with your brother as he did his homework.

The pain and fatigue clouded your brain, so much so that you hardly noticed the door to the apartment open.

“Dad!” Jack jumped up his seat and down the hall toward him.

“Hey buddy,” Hotch said. The tone of his voice was a testament to his exhaustion, but a happiness to be home.

“Dad, I made this painting in art class and I really want to show you. It's in my bedroom. Come look!” Jack didn’t give your dad a moment of rest.

“Okay,” he chuckled. “I'll be there in a minute.”

Jack’s feet pounded against the floor, running to his room in anticipation. Your dad’s longer, slower footsteps followed behind. As soon as he appeared in the doorway, you could tell the case has been a hard one. He looked beyond exhausted, horrors still haunting his eyes and crushing his spirit. Not even your little brother's innocent greeting could extinguish what your dad had endured over the past few days.

“Hey, dad,” you greeted him with as much enthusiasm as you could muster up.

“Hi sweetheart.” He planted a quick kiss atop your head before moving to the kitchen. “Where are all the plates?”

A displeasement crossed your dad’s face. You'd meant to empty the dishwasher earlier that day, but the pain body had stopped you.

“Still in the dishwasher,” you said, holding back a wince as your stomach cramped.

“I thought we talked about this.”

“We did, but-”

“You’re almost an adult. I expect you to start showing up like one.” He was calm but stern. Unblinking eyes bore into you. It made you want to cry.

Hotch turned and left the kitchen, his calm footsteps indicating he was going to Jack's room.

Despite the pain radiating through your body, you stood up and carefully made your way to the dishwasher to unload it. As soon as you leaned over to lower the door, a stabbing sensation penetrated your gut. Dizziness washed over your head and blackened your vision. In an instant, you had crumbled to the floor.

You weren't even aware that you'd let out a cry of pain until your dad was kneeling next to you, a gentle hand caressing your face. Through teary, blurry vision, you could just make out the worry in his fearures.

“It hurts,” you choked out.

“I know,” he said gently. “I'm here. I've got you.”

Strong arms lifted you off the kitchen floor, carrying you to the couch. A heating pad was laid across your stomach and a straw was brought up to your lips with the gentle encouragement to drink.

When you managed to open your eyes, Hotch was next to you, a look of concern on his normally serious face.

"Hi, sweetheart." The words were the same as before, but his tone was different.

"Hi," you whispered.

"Here," Hotch brought a hand behind your back and used the other to hand you a bottle of water, "have some water."

You took gentle sips. Your father’s hand still rested on your back, rubbing it soothingly.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You didn't make me get up." It was true.

"No, but I jumped to conclusions about what you were able to do and it made you feel like you had to do something that caused you pain." Sometimes having a profiler for a dad was a good thing. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you said.

Hotch helped you lay down again, covering you with a warm blanket. "Can I get you anything?"

You snuggled into the blanket and adjusted the heating pad to sit in the best place for easing pain. "Just the TV remote."

Your dad smiled - his small but rare smile - before handing you the remote. The rest of the afternoon would be filled with watching bad TV and chick flicks, but he didn't mind. If it made you just a little more comfortable, then it was worth it.

[magicalink]

❥Perfect Night

Taglist: @butteerflyy @linn-a-a @divinechicha @etherisy

The taglist keeps growing! I'm so happy!🥺 If you wanna be added let me know!

When Kunikuzushi got out of his ratcave to set the table, it was late. You had already done it and were sitting at the table with a radiant smile that annoyed the shit out of him.

Yae was serving the food and his mother was sneering at him with a deadly glare.

"You couldn't do one simple task." she sentenced with a cold voice.

"Don't worry Ei, it was no problem," you said, quickly drawing another smile on your face to calm the waters, rising from your seat to extend your hand to Kuni to beg him to join the table and end the uncomfortable scene.

But when you stood up and he saw you in your beautiful, tight dress, his whole body went pale except for his face, which turned bright red. It was just too much. Too short, too tight, and your cleavage drained the blood of all his bidy to send it to another place.

"A-are you okay??" You asked, worried by his suddenly sick appearance, completely oblivious of the reason.

"My stomach hurts really bad…" he lied with a grunt, putting his hand over said part of his body. The other one stayed mysteriously in one of the pockets of his dark sweatpants "I'll skip dinner." he said and quickly fled back to his den.

He slammed the door shut behind him, fuming with anger.

He was so mad at you for being so beautiful and so fucking compliant. Always the golden girl.

But he was even madder at himself for having a fucking boner over you.

What a pathetic virgin. Simply disgusting! Getting hard at the mere sight of you, like you were finally getting inside his head, fooling him too!

He was grossed out at his reaction. So he threw himself on his desk chair and put on his headphones to discharge his rage onto some poor random on an online game. Yeah, that would relax him and make his boner disappear.

Ei mumbled under her breath, cursing his son, not believing a single word from him, tired of his childish and useless behavior. You and your mother backed him up to calm her down.

"Poor Kuni," you said. Like mother like daughter. Always protecting the peace of that poor home.

You finished eating in harmony and your mom offered to do the dishes since you were leaving for the party.

At 10 pm o' clock, Barbara's dad honked in front of your door with his white church van. And you shivered in anticipation. You were really nervous. But determined to ask Huffman out!

"Have fun sweetie!" Your mom yelled from the kitchen.

"Be careful," Ei said with a solemn voice.

"Bye!" You exclaimed with an excited smile, closing the door behind you.

Barbara and Keqing waved at you from the window.

You jumped into the car and said hi to them. Then you left for the party.

This night was super important. You could feel it in your gut. Something life-changing was going to occur. The party had to be perfect!

At around 2:30 am, you were coming back home with your makeup ruined and your heart broken.

"It's okay, Y/N, he's a total idiot, you'll feel better soon," Keqing said, patting your shoulders to comfort you.

Long story short, Huffman avoided you all night long and when you were determined to face him, you found him kissing another girl. All your hopes were crushed and you felt betrayed and humiliated.

Luckily, you had loyal friends by your side. Even if your friendship was recent, it was already strong. Keqing was especially present, always taking care of you and being the voice of reason. She was like an older sister to you.

After soothing your cries, she called her daddy to pick you up early.

Now he had stopped in front of your house.

"Are you sure you don't want us to stay with you?" She asked with a worried expression.

You shook your head, wiping away your last tears with your wrist, finishing to fully smudge your black mascara.

"It's okay," you sniffed, pulling yourself together. "I need some alone time," you whispered.

"That's healthy," she nodded approvingly with her usual serious look.

Before leaving, you pulled her into a warm hug.

"Thanks for being by my side," you sobbed in the crook of her neck.

At first, she was a bit shocked at your action but she quickly hugged you back, moved.

"That's what friends are for," she said, her firm hands giving you some sense of security.

You said thanks and goodbyes and you stepped off the car to walk to your doorstep.

You reached for your keys inside your purse and opened the door. You waved a last goodbye to Keqing and her daddy, before closing it behind you. You kinda didn't recognize him but you didn't care, you were too lost in your painful emotions.

The house was in complete silence when you entered. That gave you some peace. You didn't want your family to see you like that. To get worried over something so trivial.

Yeah, it was so trivial but it hurt like hell.

You went to the bathroom to take your makeup off. Then got taken aback by your battered reflection in the mirror. You looked like a dejected raccoon, with all your mascara smudged all over your reddened face.

You had been crying a lot.

Right then, you felt so lonely.

Despite having this little assembled family, you had to give your everything every day to keep it all together. And both Kuni and Ei were so distant and cold.

Your mom was an angel and you loved her deeply. But you felt you couldn't tell her about these feelings you had. That would only worry her.

Despite remaining friends, you felt really lonely when you broke up with Guy, because it felt like you weren't really a part of his family like you had thought. He never called you again.

So you were happy and thankful for having met such good friends at this school. They were so nice you couldn't believe it. Especially Keqing. Having her by your side, backing you up, and supporting you made you feel you weren't completely alone. Made you feel safe and loved by true friends.

That gave you strength. They would help you get over these nasty feelings, you were sure. But that would take time.

You went to your room to put on a night dress and then got inside your bed, still sobbing a little bit. You wanted to sleep it off.

You still felt down. It was like the little pieces of your broken heart were stinging the inside of your chest. It was so unfair. It made no sense! What was going on inside Huffman's mind??

You thought he was your friend! He was clearly flirting with you! He kissed you, he had sex with you for archon's sake!

Was that it?! Your sadness suddenly became anger. Was that why he stopped talking to you? Because he just wanted sex and now he had no interest in you?! If that was it, he was a complete jerk.

And you thought he was a nice guy! Damn him, you should have never given such a popular guy a chance!

You gritted your teeth. If he was that kind of guy, then he didn't deserve you shedding more tears for him.

Well, that was easy to say but not to do. You felt like shit for being treated so poorly. Luckily the anger took away your need to cry. But it also made you remember how needy and unsatisfied you were…

You rubbed your thighs together under the sheets, your clit begged to feel some friction.

It wouldn't hurt to touch yourself to alleviate that thirst you had been holding for such a long time. That would help you sleep. Yeah, you had been working so hard lately, you deserved some rest.

So you put on your headphones and started some boyfriend ASMR and moved one of your hands to one of your breasts and the other one down your body until slipping it inside your panties. You started to search for the spots that made you feel good. 

Everything was marching right, except for the fact that you didn't quite know yet what to think about to further stimulate yourself. You would only think of Huffman again over your dead body! Guy? So boring! You kept browsing through your brain trying to find a handsome man, someone you would like his hands to be in the place of yours right then. It didn't need to be someone from the school, it could be an actor, an idol, someone you saw on tv…

Your finger suddenly stopped over your eager clit when you discovered yourself thinking about the guy next room again. You felt a sudden wave of heat take over your body. It was half dark in your room, but you were sure your whole body was fire red. You were ashamed, so ashamed of being thinking about Kuni. Again.

Your breath hitched. Did you really want his cold, scratchy hands all over your body, touching your sensitive spots and flicking your buds with the pads of his pale fingers?

Well, maybe? Because upon thinking about it your whole body trembled with a soft tickle. Your mind disagreed, but you gave it a chance. Fantasizing about it didn't mean you wanted it in real life, right? That's what you told yourself. Doing it with Kuni was impossible, not only because your mom was madly in love with his but also because he was really mean.

You had always been too benevolent with him, always the only one in the world who insisted that he was a nice person under that prickly exterior. And you really meant it. But that didn't mean you would go out with him if he kept being such an asshole. Of course not. You didn't let Huffman step all over you, you wouldn't let Kuni either. Or anyone, for that matter!

Yeah, that was it, masturbating to Kuni didn't mean you wanted him for real. He had a terrible attitude. But it was just his beautiful body you were feasting upon in your mind. His lean figure, his handsome face, his attractive voice…

You imagined his voice saying hot things that would never cross his virgin mind in real life, and his rough hands all worn down by playing videogames but never touching a woman’s body pushing all the right buttons to make your folds melt and clench around nothing, urging you to kick the panties away.

Dang, it worked like magic.

You started to lightly shake the bed as you approached your orgasm, moving your legs along to accompany the movements of your masturbation. You had to kick the covers away because the heat was insufferable. You even slid a finger inside your folds, then two, then you wondered how much Kuni would be packing down there and how it would feel if he put it inside of you, and then the release was right around the corner…

Meanwhile, the door at the end of the corridor opened and Kunikuzushi got out of his cave to go to the bathroom. When he arrived at said place, his face contorted and his eye twitched upon seeing your stunning short dress thrown onto the tiled floor.

"So she's back??" He thought, irritated.

And he became furious when he realized he had a boner because of you again. Because of your fucking tight dress. He cursed you under his breath and it took all of his self-control to refrain from picking up your dress and ripping it out of pure anger. He opened the running water and washed his face, trying to calm down. He contemplated his reflection in the mirror with disgust.

He looked at himself in the eyes, with hatred for being so weak, for almost falling for your dirty charms. 

The truth was that when you had arrived, you were too sad to realize you had left the dress on the floor and the door to your bedroom a little bit open, but in his paranoid mind he was sure you had done it on purpose to provoke him.

So he decided it was time to put a stop to your disrespect and to say something. Out of anger, he finally decided. He would pick up your disgustingly sexy dress and throw it at your face and scold you for leaving your things all over the place.

But first, he had to calm down his blush and his boner or he would look utterly pathetic. 

It took a lot of cold water down his face until he could calm down and get his dick soft enough to be able to pee and wash his hands and face all over again to prepare himself to confront you but he finally made it.

He took the dress harshly in one fist and stepped out of the bathroom courageously, ready to assert his dominance over you. It was the first time he would do it with you the same way he did with everyone else: aggressively. So he was excited, cocky, eager…

Until he entered your room and caught you masturbating. And not only that, but in a very heated way. 

He got completely paralyzed, stiff from head to toe his cock especially. His already pale skin went almost transparent, except of course for his poor cheeks. 

He couldn't believe his eyes. With the light that entered the room from the hallway, they witnessed, open wide, as your cute little nightdress was pulled over your waist, leaving your pussy on full display for him to see from where he was standing by the door.

He gulped down unconsciously. He couldn't believe just how beautiful it was. All swollen from arousal, so incredibly wet! And you were giving him no rest, rubbing circles on the clit with one hand and sticking two fingers inside with the other, pulling them in and out but also stopping to shove them as deep as possible, insisting on that sweet perfect spot…

He couldn't even think about his raging boner, his heart was thumping so hard it felt like it was about to jump out of his chest. He just couldn't seem to decide what to stare at. If your beautiful face, contorted in an expression of pleasure, your plush breasts barely covered by the dress, your hard nipples pushing against the cloth, or then again your breath-taking pussy.

It was just too wet. Damn too wet. His heart was ringing in his ears wondering what on earth could have turned you on so hard as to get so damn wet and have so much fun with yourself.

Luckily or unluckily, by mere coincidence the most unexpected answer fell off your lips with the lewdest moan he had ever heard not that he had heard any in real life but anyway it was very lewd:

"K-kuni…" you panted as you finally reached your orgasm, your eyes pressed shut as you got lost in your feeling of pleasure. Yeah not only your body was feeling amazing by your knowledge of how to touch yourself, but your little fantasy about Kuni being all nice and hot with you, ramming his cock inside of you just the way you told him, made your heart race and your toes curl.

This was just too much. More than he could handle. Again, luckily or unluckily for him, his phone vibrated and he desperately tried to shut it, terrified that the sound would make you realize his presence.

There was no option, he had to escape.

And so he did, he ran faster than ever in his life, straight to his room for a feeling of safety. He locked himself in, covering his mouth with a trembling hand as he fell with his back against the door until he sat on the floor.

It took him several minutes to normalize his breath and process what just had happened. The outrageous situation he had just witnessed, of you shamelessly masturbating to him and even having the nerve to moan his name. He simply couldn’t believe it. That your pussy looking so drenched and delicious was inspired by him.

His heart was still thumping hard. Did you notice him? Did you see him? Did you hear the sound of his phone and his footsteps and opened your heavy eyes and saw him as he escaped like the coward he was?

He wanted to slam his face against the wall. This could have been the best chance of his life, knowing that his enemy had a thing for him. He could have exploited it. But what if you saw him? If you did you could accuse him of being a total pervert over what was an unfortunate misunderstanding.

That would be his ruin. There had to be something he could do.

Chasing his last hope, he gathered all his courage to open his door and peek to see if yours was still open. He gulped down. It was. Maybe you didn’t hear or see anything? He sighed, trying to calm down. He would have to wait until the following day and analyze your attitude to determine if you did. He looked at his hands, which were still trembling from the shock, still trying to figure out if all had been real.

When doing so, he realized that in his clenched fist, he was still holding your dress, the reason for all this fucking disaster.

And the first thing he reached out to do in his soporiferous state of craziness was to take it up to his nose and smell it.

He closed his eyes and gave it a deep sniff and all the subtleties of your fragrance reached the deepest of his being. That calmed him down a bit. He held the cloth tighter and his knees pressed together. The image of your precious pussy glistening in the gloomy room and your yearning face got back to his memory. Your lips looked so kissable. He let out all the air in his lungs abruptly, so hot it made a little cloud of vapor in the cold air of his ratcave.

He got up, dress still in his hand, locked himself in his room so as not to end up just like you, and hid in his bed.

He just couldn't think reasonably because the soothing feeling that your smell and the memories of your lewd display had made his other hand wander slowly to his boxers.

If you had realized or not, that had to wait until next morning. Right now, This should have been the most prideful night of his life. 

He just couldn't believe it. He knew he had good looks and he had told himself that the girls at school probably got off thinking about him despite them saying they hated him for his awful personality. But he didn't believe it for one second! Actually witnessing a girl touch herself thinking about him, and making it unmistakable by moaning his name so sensually…and not any girl, it was you.

Even though he hated himself for feeling like that, he still thought you were the most beautiful. And after getting to witness just how angelic your voice sounded moaning his name, a life without hearing it again sounded like doom.

He couldn't help but imagine your voice moaning his name again and again, begging him to do the lewdest things to you. To imagine how it would feel to touch and lick your pussy in such an aroused and drenched state.

And he couldn't help but to put his hand around the base and stroke his cock, the one you were fantasizing was inside of you instead of those fingers you stuck inside your soaked pussy. The one you were wondering about its size, width, feeling against your skin.

It was there, at the other side of the wall. He was stroking it at an increasing speed as he inhaled your smell from the dress he kept close to his lips.

The same dress you had worn to impress another man. One who deserted you and broke your heart like you were nothing.

The same dress that had made him so mad, but also unable to keep hiding to himself that he desired you deeply. It made him want you and no other. Even if he hated you, he needed you crazily.

So he imagined he could have you as he masturbated, thinking a bit that you owed it to him. If you could shamelessly get your pussy that swollen and red and have such a good time at his expense, then he could jerk himself off to death fantasizing he could have you too.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Art by @miruko40393 on twitter.

This is truly the exact face Kuni had after doing what he did, feeling awful with himself.

Author's Note: OMG I can't believe I finally finished it 😭 I hope you like it cuz I put my all into this one 🥲 I'll start next chap when I finish a spin-off of this story that was requested to me, which is on the making 👀 So sad cuz I started uni again but that doesn't mean I'll stop writing! I'm working on finishing these projects!

[baby-dr1ver]

love i NEED day 29 of kinktober

charles....my little baby boy

it was easy really, getting charles to sit in your kitchen chair, handcuffed.

he was easy to manouver when he was frustrated once again, because of ferrari. screwing him over so carlso could win, sacrificing him and his potential podium.

you wrangled him into the chair as soon as he stepped foot in the house. you kissed gently all over his face, sprinkling in some praise. 'so good to me' 'my race winner' 'can't wait to see you covered in champagne again' (if you know, you know). once you deemed him calm enough, your plan was put in motion.

you started off by kissing down his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin and massaging his shoulders. "so tense amor, just need to relax huh?" you murmered and he hummed in response. you pecked at his lips, sucking on his lower lip and pulling it away from him. your hands made their way down his arm, grasping the skin of his wrist, groping the palm of his hands to sooth the aches of gripping a steering wheel. you eventually slid down the chair, grabbing the hancuffs from the table (that he somehow missed when he got home, along with the other..things among the table) and secured them quickly.

charles gasped and tried to pull his hands free. "y/n...what is this?" you smiled from where you were on your knees, right between his thighs. "you need to let go, you're uptight and tense." you rucked up his shirt and leaned foward. you place small kisses across his stomach, feeling it jump with anticipation. charles leaned his head back, letting it hang over the chair. "bebe, please, get on with it."

you pulled back and placed a hand over his growing bulge. "so bossy...i thought i was in charge cha" you slolwy unbottoned his pants and nosed along his cock. you loved when charles let you have your way with him. sitting on your knees, worshipping his dick for hours. mouthing at the tip, caressing his balls, letting the spit and precum run down your chin.

you were getting ahead of yourself, you had a different plan for tonight. you got his pants and underwear off of him, letting his bare tip rest against his shirt. full mast already and you barely even touched him. charles chest moved up and down, neck straining with trying to free himself from the cuffs. 'easy cha, gonna hurt yourself." you gently stroked his cock, trying to put him at ease. "can't..can't I, i need to.." you shushed him again and kissed around his tip.

"we'll use the stoplight system okay? the second it becomes to much, tell me." he looked at you confused. he was used to your teasing and would never want out of it so, what was really going on? he soon found out when he felt rubber being run along the inside of his thigh, trying to sus it out as you mouthed on his balls to distract him.

you pushed the button on the toy, and the vibrating sounds resonated around the room. charles smirked, "gonna get yourself off while you suck me? doesn't seem like- oh fuck" he moaned as he felt the vibrator graze his tip. you giggled as you ran the toy along his length and watched his hips jump up. "so pretty like this, just at my mercy." you could hear the rattle of the cuffs against the chair, charles shoulders coming forward, hanging his head to see the torture.

his eyes started to gloss over as he slowly submitted to you. meanwhile, you were having a field day. you were using your mouth and the toy to slowly overstimulate your lover. while the toy was down at his balls, you were licking and sucking at the tip, milking him of his precum.

once you felt like he had enough, and his shoulders slumped, you moved the vibrator so it was at the top of his tip, right at the slit and circled it. his moans increased in volume, and his legs started to shake. "y/n! please, have mercy-fuck please" his hips pushed back against the chair, trying to escacep the overwhelming sensation. you followed his movements and held his legs down.

"I know baby, i got you, let go." you nipped at his hips and squeezed his thigh, trying to encourage him to cum.

suddenly, his stomach tensed, his hips popped up to your face, and he came all over his shirt and toy. his ferrari polo was covered in white, and the toy was quickly becoming sticky.

you immediately pulled the virbator away and went to uncuff charles from the chair. you delicately rubbed his wrists where angry red lines sat, and whispered praises in his ear.

[lolasimms]

giggly cuddling with abby that turns into play fighting that turns into her pinning reader down and saying “try it. try to get away.” that turns into r struggling and cursing at abby

and what if baby wakes up before things get dirty and abby starts playing fight with him too🥺

Play fighting with Abby

It was the typical spring day in the Anderson household. Wet afternoon, rain pouring outside, littlest rays of sun were peeking through the privacy curtains and little Levi was finally down for his nap.

You and Abby were getting your much needed break from your clingy and loud baby boy, when innocent cuddling turned into a full blown tickle attack.

It started with you pressed against Abby’s back, her right hand was stretched over the soft curve of your waist and her nose tucked into your neck.

The contact was nice, relaxing even. That’s until your wife began blowing pressured raspberries against your neck. Immediately you let out a fit of squeals an and giggles.

“Abs stop it tickles!” You yell, rolling around on the bed trying to get away from her ticklish affection.

“What you don’t like my kisses?” She’s pouting, while holding your both of your hands beside your head. She was straddling your waist as you lied beneath her, out of breath.

“No baby, I love your kisses. S’just the tickles, that hurt.” You let out a whimper when she grinds down against your crotch, once she hears your words. Immediately she patted your waist, alerting you to lift it up. In a quick motion she had discarded your pyjama cami and shorts onto the floor, followed by her own.

“My poor baby doesn’t like tickles huh?” She teases, bringing her face down towards your neck again, continuing to grind against your cunt, that was covered by your Lacy panties.

“Abs, feels so good, want more.” You demand, your stomach swirling with butterflies, heat rising throughout your body.

“Yeah, my girl wants more? More what?”

“More kisses, please.”

“Fine, but only cause you asked so nicely.”

You’re laying there in anticipation, as the both of you continue to grind against one another. Abby’s hand are still pinning yours against the pillows. As you wait for her soft kisses that you loved so much. To your surprise and horror you’re met with Abby blowing ticklish raspberries against your neck, once more.

“Abby no, please it tickles.” You try your best to move away from her again, but she has you pinned down by the hands and the hips.

“Try it, try to get away baby.” She whispers as you let out half moans and half giggles. The pain of the tickles is worth it when you see that goofy smile of hers, clearly proud of her work.

“Abs fuck off, it’s ticklish.” You’re screaming as you’re confusing to weasel your way out from under her.

The blissful moment of fun is however interrupted before it could go any further.

“Mommy!” Levi cried, throwing the door handle. Within seconds you were jumping off of Abby and covering yourself and her with the blanket. The two of you had just barely enough time to scramble for your clothes that were strewn all over the bed and the floor until the door flew open and in stormed your tiny toddler. He ran like a hurricane from the door to your side of the bed, crying the entire way there.

“Jesus, Levi,” Abby groaned as she lifted her hips and pulled her pyjama pants up. “I swear we’re going to buy a net for the top of your crib dude.”

“Want momma!” He whines, reaching his hands out for you and you lift him onto the bed, before passing him to Abby. Just when he begins to settle , Abby begins an attack of tickles, causing him to let out the loudest high pitched giggles you’d ever heard.

“That’s for interrupting my mommy time.”

[cosmic-whispers]

Arson (Part 3) - Azriel x Reader

Summary: While on a mission in the Illyrian Mountains, Azriel has to face his worse fear to save you. (Parts 1 and 2 linked in my Masterlist)

Warnings: thoughts about feeling worthless, dumb Az, smut (p in v)

Word Count: 6.3K

A/N: This is the final part! This ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated and it was my first time writing smut! Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, reblog, or write me a comment or message. I appreciate you all so much for being so welcoming and kind! ❤️❤️I’m starting to work on another idea but my requests are open for now. 

The bright morning sun was shining through the glass windows when you awakened. You felt slightly disoriented, the room unfamiliar and cold. You were alone, the space bare except for the bed you were lying on, the table next to you filled with healing supplies, and two small chairs on the other side of you. The open windows greeted you with a beautiful portrait of the mountains and Velaris. You were in the healing quarters of the House of Wind. 

A sharp pain throbbed in your head and your face felt tender. The memories of what occurred stilled your thoughts, and you fought back a wave of panic. What happened?

You were ambushed by a wave of shame and embarrassment and you were glad you were alone, so no one would have to see you as your eyes filled with tears. You had been completely useless. Your powers were useless, you were overpowered so quickly, you were unable to fight back….You had been distracted, your mind swarming with powerful emotions and auras like bees, being called forth and attacking your senses. 

You should not have let that happen. You trained with the Valkyries daily. While you would never consider yourself a skilled warrior, you did know self-defense–Azriel had made sure of it as soon as you became close to the Inner Circle. But how useful was self-defense if you weren’t even able to protect yourself or the females you meant to save?

Before your thoughts spiraled, the door opened, Madja coming into the room. She locked eyes with you and sighed in relief. 

“Thank the Cauldron you’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“My head hurts,” you said, your voice raspy with disuse, a painful cough following.  

“That’s expected. You had quite a bit of head trauma,” she said. “My biggest concern was you not waking up, but here you are.” She smiled at you as she approached the bed. She leaned over you, assessing your body temperature, eyes, and reflexes. 

“Do you remember what happened?” she asked and you nodded. She handed you a freshly mixed potion, the smell pungent and you grimaced. 

“You had severe smoke inhalation; that cough should last a few more hours. The burn on your forearm is mostly healed, as is your nose. You might feel some soreness, but it should go away very soon. You were given quite a high dose of Faebane, but once I gave you the antidote, you healed up very quickly.”

“How long was I out for?” you asked. 

“Three days,” she said, and your eyes widened. “The head can be quite tricky to heal if I’m not careful. The potion should help you rest for a few hours. You should be all healed up by then. Get some sleep, (Y/N).” You drank it then, the foul taste making you gag as you quickly gulped it down, followed by a glass of water.

“Thank you, Madja,” you said as she left. You let your thoughts trail off. You were afraid to focus on the events, knowing that the guilt in the pit of your stomach would grow and fester. Feeling drowsy, you welcomed the reprieve of sleep. 

-----

Your eyes opened a few hours later, the afternoon sun lowered in the sky. You heard shuffling next to you and your heart jumped, expecting to see Azriel. However, Nesta was the one in the chair, a book balanced on her lap, her eyes zooming through the words on the pages. Her cheeks were bright pink and you only had to guess what she was reading. 

“Nesta?”

She gasped, looking up at you and discarding the book next to her. She shifted closer, her hand coming to hold yours. 

“Took you long enough to wake up,” she said, squeezing your hand. “How do you feel?”

You chuckled, sitting up. Your head felt clear and pain-free, and you felt much better than you had just mere hours ago. 

“Much better. Grateful to be here.”

“We were all so worried,” she said. 

“I’m okay,” you reassured her. “The Illyrian females–where are they? What happened to them?”

“Feyre and Rhysand offered for them to stay in the library with the Priestesses. Two of them are here in Velaris. Gwyn is helping them settle in. The others wanted to return to their homes and be with their families.”

“I think I’d like to go visit them,” you said. You wondered if the young girl went back home or decided to stay. You knew you owed them an apology for what had happened. 

“We can go see them tomorrow,” Nesta said, and you smiled, grateful for your friend. 

“Where’s Azriel?”

She glanced at you and quickly looked away. “He’s back in Illyria…dealing with the situation.”

“What? How could Rhys send him back there alone so soon?” you asked, worried about him. He shouldn’t be back there…you were caught by surprise that day; what could happen if they had time to recover and regroup? 

“Cassian and Rhysand went with him. And Rhys didn’t send him. He was the one that suggested going.”

You were baffled. Azriel hated going to Illyria. While he never refused a request to go from Rhysand, you knew that he did so reluctantly and never willingly volunteered to go. He was always protective of you, hovering like a mother hen sometimes, but always made sure that you were safe and comfortable. Perhaps you were being pretentious, but you almost expected him to be with you when you awoke. 

You felt Nesta grow nervous at your silence and you figured she knew something else you didn’t. “I think he might just want to find anyone responsible for what happened to those females,” she said. You knew there were more Illyrians that were involved in what happened to those women and what Nesta said did make sense, but you knew she was hiding something. You were too much of a coward to question her further.

“You didn’t see what he was like when he got you here…I’m not one to usually admit something like this, but he frightened me. Rhys told us that he ran into that burning building to save you…You know his past.”

You nodded, shocked. Azriel’s past was a touchy subject, but you always felt so fortunate that he trusted you with it. Trust is not easily won by Azriel, it is something you had to battle for and you were honored that he chose to let you win. To let you into the darkest parts of his past and trust you with his vulnerability. Knowing that he had faced the most terrible fear he had—for you—left you speechless.

Nesta stayed with you for a bit longer, catching you up on all the gossip you missed and raving about her latest read. Your mind wandered as she rambled and when she left, your thoughts began racing a million miles a minute. 

—------

It was early evening when Madja came back. After checking your head once more and feeding you a light dinner, she finally released you from her care and warned you to find her if you experienced any other discomfort. You made your way back to your room in the House in a daze, unable to stop your racing thoughts. You decided to bathe, the sweat and oil had built up over the course of the days and you hoped that a warm bath would make you feel better. 

Despite the warm water soothing your muscles, your mind would not be calmed.

You could not get your brain to slow down and think things rationally. You were worried about the females, you were worried about Azriel, and the guilt over what happened was making you question your place within your chosen family. You were surrounded by legendary Illyrian fighters, Valkyries, powerful ancient beings, and you weren’t even able to defend yourself. Where did you fit in? Tears sprung to your eyes once you began to realize that you didn’t. You didn’t belong. 

Not surprised that sleep was evading you, you made your way to the library, hoping that sinking into a fictional world would help you take your mind off your woes. 

After making your way towards the library, you heard the unmistakable sound of someone winnowing in the training grounds outside. You jogged the short distance to the training yard and stopped short when you saw Azriel making his way toward you. 

“Azriel!” He looked up, surprised to see you. He looked tired, exhaustion leaking from his being. His shadows were calm around him, making a dash for you when they noticed your presence, but he was quick to reel them in. 

“I was so worried about you,” you said, approaching him.

He tore his gaze away from yours, moving quickly to brush past you. 

“I’m fine.” And with that, he walked away from you, not sparing you another glance, and made his way upstairs to his quarters. The scent of night-chilled mist and cedar that regularly filled you with comfort made you feel uneasy and the sharp tone of his words made your heart stop. Had he had the same realization you had?

You debated giving him space but ultimately decided to confront him. If things needed to be laid out, you wanted it to happen sooner rather than later. As you followed Azriel’s path, you wondered where you would live or where you would go. Your heart hurt knowing that you would have to leave the friends you grew to love as family. Despite wanting to face the impending conversation as soon as possible, you dragged your feet, afraid of the uncertainty of what was about to happen. 

Reaching his door, you knocked. The door opened after a few seconds, and there he stood. His chest was bare, leaving the swirling tattoos spread across his golden brown skin in full display, and the sweatpants he was wearing left very little to the imagination.

You felt flustered, heat rising to your face, but you recovered quickly at the stern look on his face. 

You decided against accusing him of something, so you decided to ask him before making any assumptions. “Azriel, is something wrong?”

He sighed. If you didn’t know him so well, the slight downturn of his lips and the tension building in his shoulders would have been overlooked. But you did see it, and the chill in the hallway was no longer coming from the icy winter air, but from the male in front of you. 

“No.”

“You seem upset. Did something happen at the camps?” you asked.

“Other than the obvious,” he said, looking pointedly at you. The chill in your heart iced over your entire body and you fought the tears that threatened to spring to your eyes. He did not say anything else for a few moments and you thought he was about to kick you out of his room. Before he was able to say anything else, you spoke. 

“I woke up and you were gone. Nesta told me that you saved me, but now you’re avoiding me. I don’t understand.”

He didn’t speak for a few moments, but when he did, his words were measured and his eyes were steeled over, looking past you. He couldn’t even look at you. 

“I just think it’s for the best if we keep our distance from each other.”

Despite your fears from earlier, you were shocked. Azriel and you had always had a special connection, deeper than anyone else in your group of friends. You felt the closest to him, confided in him, and spent the most time with him. You didn’t understand why things were suddenly different to the point where he did not even wish to speak with you. No, there had to be something more. A twinge of anxiety and worry clouded his aura. Perhaps what happened in Illyria scared him, or something had happened between then and now to make him act this way. You knew you had to keep pushing; you could not just accept that he did not want your friendship and move on. 

“Are you disappointed in me?” you asked. 

His gaze snapped to yours, eyes wide. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You’re disappointed that I was not able to defend myself. Azriel, I’m so sorry,” you said, moving towards him and past the doorway. He seemed too shocked at your words to move. “I can’t even begin to tell you how ashamed I feel. I let you down, I let those females down. I was useless. I’m so sorry–”

He cut you off, rushing towards you and drying the tears that had slipped past your eyes. His presence so close to you again warmed you like the sun on a cold morning. 

“I am not disappointed in you, please don’t think that,” he said, comforting you. 

“Then tell me why you’re avoiding me,” you said. He stiffened, his eyes turning cold again, and his hands dropped from your face. The back and forth was giving you whiplash, making you more confused and upset. He was your best friend and all you were asking for was honesty. 

“I’m tired, (Y/N). Can’t you drop it and go to sleep?”

“Are you seriously doing this right now, Azriel?”

He rolled his eyes in annoyance, not unlike a petulant child, and turned back into his room, creating distance between the two of you. You followed him in, closing the door behind you, and heard him sigh. You were past the point of caring whether he was annoyed with you. You were not leaving until he spoke with you. 

He didn’t speak further, so you continued. “Clearly something is bothering you concerning me. I’d expect you to at least be honest with me. So, tell me why you’re upset with me. What did I do?” you insisted and felt his anxiety begin to rise. You felt slightly responsible for that, but something was horribly wrong. If it was not him being disappointed or ashamed of you, then why was he acting this way? What did you do and how could you fix it if he would not tell you?

“You are being insufferable, (Y/N),” he said, tone condescending and you felt your anger beginning to rise. 

“And you are being irrational,” you said, crossing your arms and staring intently at the back of his head. You saw his shoulders lift and heave a sigh. 

“Irrational?” he snarled, turning back to you, and for a moment, you felt a shiver of fear run down your spine. He was the dreaded Shadowsinger and the rage in his eyes at that moment made it clear to you why he was so feared. 

“You think it’s irrational to want to keep you away from me after what happened in that camp?!” he exclaimed, taking another step closer to you. “You think it’s irrational to want to keep you safe after I was the one that put you in danger? I was the one that asked Rhys to send you on that mission with me. I knew that you’re not trained for the field, but I was selfish and I wanted you to be with me and it nearly got you killed.” He moved closer and closer to you as he spoke, towering over you, his large frame and dark wings caging you against the closed door behind you. 

“You were almost killed because of me,” he repeated, his voice growing softer, and you felt the sadness radiating from deep within him. “I refuse to let that happen again.”

You grabbed his limp hand from where it lay beside him. You half expected him to pull away from you, but he closed his eyes and turned his face away from yours. 

“Azriel, what happened was not your fault.”

“You almost died. When I brought you to Madja, you were unresponsive and you looked dead. Seeing you like that was the most excruciating thing I’ve ever faced. Not being able to do anything to save you…it was torture. And I have to live with the guilt of it for the rest of my life,” he said. His eyes were scrunched shut, refusing to look at you, however the hand you were holding tightened slightly. 

“It was not your fault,” you repeated, trying your best to comfort him. Azriel was not the best when it came to sharing his feelings. You were not surprised that his defense mechanism was to attempt to push you away. But you loved him too much to let him. “Look at me.”

He shook his head and your other hand moved to the side of his face, caressing the soft skin of his cheek. You gently turned his face towards you. His eyes still remained closed, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Az, please look at me,” you said softly, taking a step towards him, so close that you felt the warmth of his skin emanating to you once again and you reveled in the feeling. 

His hazel eyes opened, the color, shape, and depth leaving you breathless momentarily. Your thumb caressed his cheek again and you gathered your thoughts quickly before you spoke. 

“Azriel, what happened was not your fault,” you reassured him, your grasp tightening around his hand. “It was those males that hurt me and those women. They are cruel and vile. I know that you would never purposefully let anything happen to me and you will always fight to protect me.”

“But I did,” he said. “I did let you get hurt. I almost lost my mate because of my stupidity.”

He froze after speaking, his spine tensing and his eyes widened in shock that he revealed that information. You felt him begin to panic and smiled softly at him, squeezing his hand again. 

“(Y/N)--” he began, but you cut him off, knowing that his head would not stop running this moment over and over in his mind and spiral.

“I know, Azriel.”

Not much rendered the Spymaster speechless, but you never did stop taking him by surprise. It took him a few moments of staring at you in shock before he could think of something to say. “You felt the bond?”

“Not exactly. My powers…I’ve always felt a deep connection to you, Az. I never quite understood why but didn’t question it because we became such close friends. But right before…what happened, I felt this strike of fear and for a moment, I felt you. It was as if I was in your body, and you were feeling what I was feeling. Like our souls were connected at that moment. I’ve suspected for a while, but I knew then.”

He was shocked that you knew, not knowing what to say. 

“You never said anything. Do you not want the bond?” you asked. It was a real possibility. You had felt a connection since you met him, and you imagined he did as well. You’re not entirely sure when the bond snapped for him, but you figured it had been a while. If he did not want you…you knew it would break you, but you would accept any decision he made. You were glad to be his friend if that would make him happy. You just wanted him in your life in any way he would have you. 

“Of course I do. That’s the entire issue here.” He sensed your confusion and struggled to find words to explain what he was feeling. He felt a swarm of emotions swim through him and tears sprung to his eyes. “You…What happened on that mission…That should have never happened. I should have never let that happen. But I did. I couldn’t protect you. I failed you. And it proved what I’ve known since the moment I met you. I don’t deserve you. You don’t deserve to have to be stuck with someone like me as a mate. You…You’re a dream, everything I could have ever hoped for. You’re so good, so kind, generous, and passionate about life and I am a plague. Everything I touch turns to ashes in my hands. I am everything evil and dark and I will taint you.”

He knew you could feel what he was feeling, and he let you. He let you feel all the emotions he had been holding back. Tears streamed down your beautiful face, your eyes shining bright. You moved forward and he did not find it within himself to move away from you again. You hugged him, your sweet scent overwhelming him and he felt himself sag against your warmth. The feeling of you in his arms was divine and he had to fight the urge to melt completely in your arms. He was a weak and selfish male. 

“I’m so sorry you feel that way about yourself, Azriel. But none of that is true. You asked me to go with you and I said yes. We both know the dangers of missions, even if they are supposed to be easy. You saved me. You faced your deepest fear for me, Azriel. You are the kindest, most courageous, strongest male I’ve ever met and I am honored that I am your mate. You do deserve me, and I deserve you. The Mother made us for each other; you are the other half of my soul–all the good and all the bad. If it takes the next millennia to make you believe that you deserve love, I’ll gladly spend them convincing you. ”

“I don’t deserve you,” he repeated, his voice weak and you both knew that there was no denying what was about to happen. It was inevitable. It was fated. He was yours and you were his and this moment was coming sooner or later. 

“That’s not your choice, Azriel. You deserve me,” you whispered to him. His forehead pressed against yours and your eyes shut as his minty breath hit your nose. 

Your hand caressed his face, and his hand that was holding yours moved up your forearm, his fingers ghosting over your soft skin. Goosebumps erupted as his fingers trailed their path, the gentle caresses giving you butterflies and his touch sending shivers down your spine. His hand traveled further, past your shoulders and up to grip the back of your neck, gently angling your face towards his. His heavy gaze never left yours, making your heart beat erratically in your chest and butterflies erupt in your stomach. You could not believe this was happening, and the feeling of utter contentment filled every pore in your being.  

“I don’t,” he whispered, “but if you’ll have me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of you.”

You shuffled closer to him, your chest pressing against his bare one. He dwarfed you, his arms large and encompassing and his wings curled over you, shielding everything else except the two of you. 

Your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, bringing his body as close to yours as possible, relishing in his heat and the feel of his skin against yours. His other hand wrapped tightly around your lower back lifting you to him. His eyes shifted down to your lips as you smiled. You admired his perfect face, his beautiful hazel eyes, the straight bridge of his nose, high cheekbones, and full pouty lips. It was hard to believe the male was even real sometimes. 

“You are nothing if not stubborn, Azriel,” you said. “You are worthy. Now, stop the whole self-deprecation thing, and please kiss me.”

A small smile graced his features before he lowered his lips to yours. His skin grazed you, his lips soft and smooth against yours. He pulled away for a moment and when your eyes met his, a swelling of emotion grew deep within you, expanding rapidly through your body and you felt a sharp snap beneath your rib cage. 

The bond. 

You gasped as the feelings of love crashed over you, wave after wave and you would happily drown in the feeling of him. 

He smiled, wild and unrestrained. The corners of his eye crinkled; you had never seen him in the way you were seeing him at that moment. You could not hold back the answering grin, the happiness and love ebbing and flowing from him to you and back. 

He leaned back in, kissing you as if there was nowhere else he'd rather be. As if kissing you was the only thing that was keeping him breathing. The taste of his lips was addicting–you wanted more. You wanted all of him. His hands wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer still and you melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him consume you. 

You broke apart, panting. He trailed kisses on your jaw and down your neck and his large hands roamed down to your ass, pulling you up effortlessly and wrapping your legs around his small waist. 

“If you don’t tell me to stop, I’m not going to be able to hold myself back from you,” he said between kisses. You moaned lowly as he nipped at the junction between your shoulder and neck. He ran his tongue over the skin, soothing the slight sting and making warmth begin to pool in your core.  

You smirked. “Who asked you to hold yourself back?”

He let out a playful growl and rushed towards the bed. Your back hit the mattress and he was on top of you, lips still attached to any inch of skin they could reach. The weight of him over you felt like it was always meant to be there–and you supposed that it was. 

“You are so mesmerizing…so perfect,” he mumbled against your skin as his hands trailed up your shirt and onto your stomach. 

“Azriel…please…” you whimpered as his hand traveled up and further, skimming the skin below your breast. His hand paused for a moment there, but he moved it up, grasping at your breast through your bra and you whimpered low. His lips found yours once more, his tongue licking at your lips before you opened your mouth for him. He was devouring you. 

He broke the kiss, rising until he was kneeling over you. As your eyes thoroughly explored his shirtless body, you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. He was a god, perfection. His tattoos swirled around the skin of his expansive chest and you imagined tracing each line of ink, each scar, and freckle with your tongue. You yearned to explore every single delicious inch of him. 

He brought your shirt over your head and began kissing down your chest and stomach. His kisses were soft and teasing, and you felt the heat building in your lower belly. You wanted him to completely destroy you–you wanted your mate to make you his. 

He leaned back over you, his skin touching yours and you could not suppress the shiver that ran through your body. He looked deeply into your eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting in a soft smile, a moment of clarity breaking through the lust of the moment. He feared he was asleep, trapped in the sweetest daydream. But he knew this was real. His dreams never did manage to capture the wonderful texture and color of your hair, and the shade of your eyes was never quite as beautiful. His shadows swirled around your wrists and collarbones. His heart raced, disbelief coating his thoughts, but you were here. Your skin was soft against his, your eyes dark and hooded. You were breathtaking. 

“I can’t believe I have you like this,” he whispered, his hand coming up to caress your cheek softly. 

You smiled at him and he felt his heart hammer harder still. “I love you, Azriel.”

His throat tightened with emotion and his eyes filled with tears. Your hand caressed the raven hair at the nape of his neck, and you leaned up to place a kiss against his lips. 

“I love you so much, dove. You are everything to me,” he said and dove back in, kissing your lips and down your neck. Your bra was quickly disposed of, exposing your breasts. They fit perfectly in his hands, the skin impossibly soft and he could not help but take a hardened nipple into his mouth, licking the skin and gently biting. Your body arched up against him and your moans echoed in his ears. Your hands ran down his shoulders, his back, and just barely grazed over the boning of his wings. You seemed content with just touching any part of him. His arousal was almost painful–he had never been this hard in his life. 

His kisses continued, his hand unclasping your pants and bringing them down your legs. His mouth followed the path down your gorgeous legs, licking and sucking wherever he felt like. He could not resist taking a rough bite out of the fleshy skin of your thigh. You hissed in pain and he could smell the sweet scent of arousal emanating from your core. 

“Oh, you liked that?” he said, voice gravelly, as he made his way back up your body, nipping and kissing and sucking on your sensitive nipples once more.  

“Fuck yes, Azriel, you feel so good,” you moaned unabashedly, your body arching toward him. “I need you.”

The sight of your supple, flawless body, the irresistible scent of your growing arousal, how pliant and needy you were, the sounds you were making–it was overwhelming. He fought every urge within his body to just take you in the way he wanted to. He needed to take this slow. He needed to savor you. 

He kissed and licked back down your body. He brought the lace of your underwear down slowly, his eyes remaining glued to yours. As he threw the lace behind him, you could feel his hot breath touch your most intimate area and you gasped. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, slowly pulling your legs over his shoulders and inching closer and closer to where you needed him the most. 

“Please,” you whimpered and his tongue touched you. Your pussy was the most delicious thing he had tasted in his entire existence and he knew that he could easily spend the rest of eternity in between your legs. Your taste, your scent, and your essence were addicting and he never wanted to stop. 

His tongue expertly lapped at your clit, sharp tendrils of pleasure shooting up your limbs, making goosebumps raise on your skin and a loud moan escape you. He didn’t want to tease you too much and he knew he was too desperate for you to make you beg—this time. 

He held your hips down against the bed with an arm, his shadows pinning your arms down. He focused on your bundle of nerves, alternating between licking it softly, gently nipping at it, or harshly sucking it into his mouth. His scarred fingers entered you, curling gently and hitting that spot inside you that made your eyes roll back.  

It was building quickly, he could tell by the amount of slickness that dripped out of you. His face was drenched in your wetness and he would gladly drown in it. 

“Oh, gods, Azriel,” you moaned. The sound of his name being moaned by you made him lose control. He needed to be inside of you–he needed to claim you. He sucked harshly at your clit, fucking you with his finger, and did not relent. He kept sucking, the pressure in your core building and building until it exploded, your vision going white and pussy gushing in Azriel’s face in the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced. Azriel’s mouth did not leave your pussy, letting you ride out your orgasm on his face. 

As you slowly came down, he appeared in front of you again, his face soaked with your cum. The sight alone nearly made you cum again. 

He shuffled out of his pants and kneeled before you again. The sight of his cock left you breathless. He was easily the biggest you had ever seen and you immediately knew he was going to ruin you for anyone else. 

He pressed his pelvis to yours, his hands pushing your legs back towards your shoulders, nearly folding you in half. He looked down at your exposed pussy and you felt a rush of adrenaline fill you with just how much control he had over you in that moment. You could trust this male with your life. 

“You are so pretty, dove,” he said, eyes still glued to your core. He glanced back up at you, his hazel eyes almost black and hooded. A smirk lined his lips and your mouth fell open as he licked his lips and spit right onto your cunt. 

A shiver rolled down your back and the smell of your arousal filled the room. He positioned himself, not wasting another second, and slowly entered you. You could not help but close your eyes in pure bliss of having him like this, of the feeling of him entering you and stretching your walls around his thickness. He groaned over you, eyebrows furrowed and you know that it took all the self-control he had in him not to completely lose control and wildly fuck you.

He was sheathed fully inside of you. You clenched around him, urging him to start moving. Azriel gasped and rolled his hips once against your sex, and you shuddered as his pelvis tilted just right to rub against your sensitive clit. He sat up, sneaking his forearms under your thighs, pushing them even higher towards you, and sliding deeper and deeper into you. He stayed still inside of you, still accommodating to your tightness and giving you the chance to get used to his impressive size. You felt like you were filled to the brim, stuffed full of his cock and you wanted more.

You were practically sobbing at this point, desperate for him. “Please, Az, please, fuck me.”

“As my mate wishes,” he said and began pounding into you. You screamed his name as his hips thrust forwards into yours, his huge cock creating the most exquisite friction. He shifted your hips up, the angle allowing the head of his cock to hit the perfect spot inside of you. You screamed in pleasure and his hips quickened speed. You could not take your eyes off of him. He was magnificent. His wings spread wide and mighty behind him, and his powerful body loomed over you, manhandling you and fucking roughly into you. You sensed another orgasm approaching and he groaned as he felt you clench around him. Each expert roll of his hips caused stars to dance around your vision and your thighs shook in pleasure. 

“I’m so close,” you whimpered and his hold on your hips tightened. Your hands clenched at the sheets beneath you. You had never felt so stretched, so full, so utterly complete than when Azriel was inside of you. Your mate. Your future. He was everything to you.

“Cum for me, dove, please cum on my cock,” he begged, fucking you on his dick faster and faster. He looked feral, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared down at you. This was heaven. Your tight cunt, wrapped perfectly around him like it was made just for him. Your skin was dewy, your perfect breasts bounced erotically as he fucked into you and your mouth was open, intelligible moans escaping you every time he fucked so deep into you. He needed you to come.

His hand came down to rub at your clit and you felt the heat build and build in your abdomen. The soft, sensual touch on your bundle threw you over the edge. A silent scream hung on your lips as your orgasm rippled through your body, your head tilting back and your eyes rolling back in pleasure. Your cunt clenching around him made Azriel’s thrusts grow sloppier as he chased his own orgasm. His release was approaching fast. 

“You feel so tight around me, dove…such a good girl,” he praised. A few rough thrusts later, he was cumming, a growl escaping his lips and painting your walls with his cum.

He pressed his upper body to yours, heaving chests pressed together as you both tried to catch your breaths. You both looked at each other, shy, happy smiles on your faces and hearts full. He pecked your lips softly. 

“I love you so much, (Y/N). I’m the luckiest male in this world to have you by my side as my mate,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and nose.

“I love you too, Azriel. So much,” you said, your hand running down his sides and up his back. He smiled at you, happy to stay right where he was for the rest of eternity.

“Are you hungry? I’d love to cook you something,” you said, your heart clenching as you could see the emotions swirling in his eyes, in utter awe of how much love and vulnerability he was showing to you in that moment. 

“Are you sure?” You knew his insecurities would not vanish overnight and that he had a lot of work to do to move on from the trauma of his past. But you were honored to be the one to walk that path with him. You would follow this male to Hel and back and you knew that he would do the same for you. He had done the same for you. 

“Yes, Az. I would love nothing more than to accept the bond.”

He smiled and kissed you deeply. He broke the kiss, a wicked smirk growing on his face. 

“Let’s save it for breakfast,” he said. Before you were able to blink, he flipped you on your stomach, lifting your hips up against him. You gasped and your eyes widened in surprise as he brought his hand down in a sharp sting against your ass. “I’m not done with you yet.”

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[campingwiththecharmings]

Safe Haven

AN: This has probably been done already but I saw a prompt (“Can we stay like this just for a minute longer?”) and immediately thought of Marc so, hope someone other than me enjoys it. It's self-indulgent af, ngl. This is my first Moon Knight fic, please be gentle (I legit agonized for weeks about getting Marc's characterization right 😭).

Without another word, you walk to him, your bare feet padding softly across the floor. He jumps a little when you touch his arm, seemingly lost in his thoughts. His smile is apologetic but strained when he looks at you, his muscles tense. You begin to look him over, your fingers gently tilting his head this way and that as your eyes scrutinize every inch of him. “I’m okay,” he says again, this time softer, his hands coming up to rest over yours, halting your inspection of his face. “I can’t get hurt, remember?”

Rated: T (for references to violence/blood) Words: 2,325 Pairing: Marc Spector x GN!Reader Warnings: hurt/comfort, a little more angst than I’d anticipated (oops), softness, touch-starved!Marc, unresolved sexual tension, yearning, brief mention of blood/injuries. AO3

——————

It’s late when he knocks on your door. 

He looks weary, the dark circles beneath his eyes visible even in the darkness of the hallway.

“Marc,” you breathe, your eyes doing a quick once over of him. 

Streaks of blood mar his skin and the sight makes your stomach drop. 

“I’m okay,” he says quickly, evidently sensing your distress.

Your eyes flick back to his, the panic rising in your chest dissipating a fraction at the earnestness of his gaze. After a beat, you nod, waving him in and closing the door softly behind him. He shuffles across the room, the sound of his boots rasping against your area rug filling your ears before he stops. After bolting the door, you turn, studying him from across the room. His arms are limp at his sides, head bowed slightly as he stares blankly at the wall. You chew your lip, ignoring the pang of worry that stabs through you. 

Without another word, you walk to him, your bare feet padding softly across the floor. He jumps a little when you touch his arm, seemingly lost in his thoughts. His smile is apologetic but strained when he looks at you, his muscles tense. You begin to look him over, your fingers gently tilting his head this way and that as your eyes scrutinize every inch of him.

“I’m okay,” he says again, this time softer, his hands coming up to rest over yours, halting your inspection of his face. “I can’t get hurt, remember?”

That’s not entirely true, though, and he knows it. Sure, Khonshu’s power heals his physical wounds, but what about the others? The ones you can’t see, the ones deep down inside him, the ones he tries to hide, that he ignores. This life is killing him. Maybe not his body, but his soul, his heart. It eats away at him, you know it does, you see it in his eyes, in that look he gets when he thinks you’re not paying attention—he’s haunted.

He’d never tell you that, of course, not when he’s spent most of his life thinking he’s a burden to everyone around him, that he’s an inconvenience. In his mind, he’s already asking too much of you just by coming here, by accepting your help. The knowledge makes your heart ache. 

He forces a smile, trying his best to alleviate your concern. You hold his gaze, unable (and unwilling) to smile back, to help him lie to you, to himself. Realizing he isn’t fooling you, he looks away, the corners of his mouth turning down, that little crease between his eyebrows making an appearance.

“Come on,” you say softly after a moment, loosely threading your fingers through his.

He lets you guide him without a fight, trailing behind you as you lead him toward your bathroom. Once inside, you release him, turning on the warm water before grabbing a washcloth and a few towels from the closet. Marc stands in the doorway silently, half in, half out. You gesture for him to take a seat on the closed toilet seat before wetting the washcloth in the sink. He sits heavily as you wring out the excess water, blankly staring at your hands as you work. 

Turning to face him again, you briefly pause, eyes flicking over him as if you’re considering where to begin. What you’re really waiting for though, is for him to look at you. It takes him almost five minutes to meet your eyes, to pull himself back from wherever he’d gone. 

“Still okay?” you ask, allowing your lips to quirk a little.

He nods, averting his eyes again. “Yeah.”

Sighing quietly, you step into his space, close enough to smell him, to feel the warmth of him through his clothes. He looks up at you from where he’s seated, eyes guarded, yet somehow still pleading (though, for what, you’re not entirely sure). Gently, you press the damp cloth against his cheek, dragging it slowly down toward his neck. You know that he doesn't really need you to do this, that there aren’t any cuts or gashes that need tending to, but he doesn’t stop you, somehow knowing this is just as much for you as it is for him. 

His eyes are on you as you work, slowly dragging the cloth back up his neck and over the underside of his jaw. His throat bobs when you take his chin between your fingers, tilting his head to the side as you move the cloth over the other side of his face. His breath skims over your skin as he exhales softly, eyelids fluttering a little at your touch, as if he’s fighting not to close them. Your heart aches for him, aches at the thought that this is likely the only non-violent physical contact he’s had in weeks; it’s one of the reasons he comes to you, you know. He’ll never admit it, will never tell you that he needs this, that he needs your attention, your care, your softness. You keep moving the cloth over his skin long after the smears of blood are gone, if only to give him a little bit more of what he’d never let himself ask you for. 

When he starts to fidget, you stop, slowly stepping back and meeting his eyes. They are closed off again and you ignore the sharp stab of disappointment that laces through your chest, mentally scolding yourself for daring to hope that this time would be different. You gesture toward the shower stall behind him, clearing your throat in an attempt to break the tension that’s settled between you.

“You finish up. I’ll, um, go find you some clothes to change into.”

He nods, reaching for one of the towels you’d left for him on the counter. “Thanks.”

You hum in response as you turn away. His eyes are on you again as you leave, boring holes into your back as you close the door softly behind you. A sigh escapes you once you’re on the other side, whether it’s relief, disappointment, or a mixture of the two though, you’re unsure. 

You don’t really know how to describe what this is between you and Marc. It’s not a friendship, not exactly. It’s certainly not romantic. There’s trust there, yes, but it’s never gone beyond the longing looks and you giving him a safe place to lay low. There is something there though, a kind of tether, one that keeps you connected to him and he to you. You have a soft spot for him, one that makes it impossible for you to ever let him go, even though you know you probably should. He’s never going to give you what you want, he doesn’t think he can, that he’s even worthy. 

You wish he’d try, though. You wish it so much it hurts sometimes.

A pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt are folded and stashed in the back of your closet. Marc had left them the last time he’d been there, and you hadn’t had the heart to toss them. You pull them from their hiding place (still wondering why you even felt the need to hide them in the first place) and stare at them for a moment, your fingers lightly caressing the soft cotton of the shirt. You leave them in front of the closed bathroom door, knocking softly to let him know that they’re there. There’s no response from inside, just the muffled hiss of the spray from the shower. Trying not to linger, you turn away, heading toward your kitchen—gods, do you ever need a drink.

You grab a glass from one of the cupboards and pour yourself a finger or two of the whiskey from your secret stash. It burns your throat as it goes down, warming you from the inside out and you close your eyes with a sigh at the sensation. After a long moment, the sound of someone clearing their throat reaches your ears and you open your eyes to see Marc standing awkwardly in the doorway. 

He runs a hand through his damp hair and points at the bottle of liquor beside you. “May I?”

You nod, studying him as he walks over, tracing the lines of his face with your eyes. He looks even more tired in the stark light of your kitchen, the bruises beneath his eyes purple, his jaw clenched, his shoulders more rounded than usual. You bite back a smile at his mussed hair though, his curls far more unruly than you know he likes them to be, and suddenly, you’re struck with the urge to pull a brush through them, to tame them, to quell the chaos (be it inside or out). He’ll say no if you ask him outright, wouldn’t dream of putting you out like that (as if brushing his hair of your own free will is an inconvenience), so you have to get creative.

“Would you do something for me?” you ask, your eyes and voice soft.

His eyes flick to yours as he swallows his mouthful of whiskey, his tongue swiping across his lips to catch any of the excess.

“Of course,” he says, nodding as he looks around the room, as if trying to anticipate your request. “Whatever you need.”

You smile and start to walk out of the kitchen, no doubt leaving him a little confused. When you enter your living room, you nod toward the bathroom. “Mind grabbing my brush? It’s in the drawer on the right.”

He nods again, shuffling over to and then through the door. When he returns, you’re seated on your couch, flipping through the various channels before settling on some mindless show. You motion him over when you notice he’s returned, hoping he hasn’t figured out your true intention. He still looks confused (and maybe a tad suspicious) as he hands you the brush. Your fingers graze his as you take it, and you see this throat bob as he swallows.

“Sit,” you say simply, motioning to the pillow on the floor between your feet.

His brow furrows, the crease between his eyes deepening as he looks between you and the pillow. “What?”

“Please,” you say softly, your eyes pleading. “Sit.”

He stares at you for a moment longer, trying to figure out what the purpose of this request is. His brows unfurrow a fraction when he figures it out, and he looks away, embarrassed. “You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

He meets your eyes again, his deep brown ones hesitant but curious. 

“Please, Marc.”

After a moment, he nods, sighing quietly as he takes his seat on the pillow between your feet. He’s broader than you anticipated, and you have to widen your legs a little to accommodate him. Once you have yourself situated, you get to work, gently pulling him so his back is resting against the base of the couch. He fidgets as he sits, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists in his lap.

“Comfortable?” you ask, leaning forward enough that you can see the side of his face.

“Not really,” he mutters, and you huff a laugh through your nose in response.

You lean back, raising the brush and setting it at his hairline. You pull it through gently, taking care not to pull on any of his curls. His hair is beautiful, you’ve always thought so, have longed to run your fingers through the meticulously styled locks. You prefer it when his curls are like this, unruly and free of the product he uses to keep them in check. It’s softer than you’d imagined, the dark strands like silk against your fingers. He’s silent as you work, his body still tense. Little by little though, he relaxes, his shoulder pressing a little more heavily against the inside of your knee, more of his arm resting against your calf. 

Longing wells inside of you as you brush and you chew your bottom lip, as if to stave it off. Not for the first time, you wonder why he doesn’t want this, why he doesn’t want you. Was there something wrong with you? Were you too pushy? Too annoying? Too accommodating? Maybe there was someone else—the thought results in a sharp stab in your chest that you quickly shoo away, unable (or unwilling) to deal with it at the moment.

No. Instead, you settle for this; savoring every touch he allows, every moment he spends in your presence.

You’re finished far sooner than you’d like, his curls untangled and (mostly) lying flat. There’s that one curl though, the one above his right eyebrow that never seems to want to lie flat; it’s rebellious, stubborn, always breaking free from the confines of the styling gel he uses. It’s your favorite, you think, always falling across his forehead or into his eyes, unwilling to be tamed.

“All finished,” you rasp quietly, an inexplicable sadness welling inside you.

His hand wraps around your ankle as you move to let him up. His grip is gentle, but insistent, and you pause, a little shocked at his willingness to initiate this type of contact.

“Can we just…stay like this for a little longer?” he asks, his voice soft and a little rough.

There’s a pang in your chest at his question, one that somehow both cuts and soothes; he doesn’t feel like he deserves this kind of attention, this softness, yet he allows you to provide it nonetheless. Emotion swells in your chest and suddenly you’re thankful that he can’t see your face. You clear your throat, willing your voice to remain neutral.

“Sure.” 

He nods in thanks, leaning into you even more heavily than before and something inside you cracks a little. This time, you forgo the brush, instead combing your fingers through his locks, heart stuttering in your chest as he leans into every single touch.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

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Also tagging a couple of people who were interested in this fic. If you want to be tagged on any future posts, please let me know 🥰: @spacecowboyhotch @ninebluehearts

[tsumtsumrry]

hi babe!!! love your work so much:))) on your old blog I think you had a blurb ab h helping reader through her period. do you still have it?? hope you’re having a great day love<3

hii. thank you so so much 🤍🤍 my day is going really great thank you and i hope yours is amazing too!! and yes of course. here you go 🤍

more of a blurb than anything (1.0k words)

there's subspace involved and a daddy kink.

She woke up in the middle of the night squirming around, pressing onto her stomach in hopes of deadening the pain radiating through her body. She was whining and whimpering softly, trying her best not to wake Harry but also wanting him to be awake so he can make her feel better.

The pain is just becoming too much, those damn ibuprofens aren’t doing anything to help her and she hasn’t been able to go out and buy any Motrin ― which is her only saving grace when it comes to period pains ― she just can’t take it any more.

“Baby?” she jumps when she hears Harry, his deep raspy sleep-filled voice already making her feel a little better.

He moves behind him to turn on the lamp and looks back to her.

“Hurts…” is all she whimpers before Harry is raising his eyebrows, both at her saying she’s in pain and the tone of her voice.

“What hurts, love? Gotta tell me” he looks down at her hand kneading her stomach and puts his hand on top of hers adding extra pressure making her moan softly, “s’here, pretty? Hmm?”

She nods and whimpers while Harry kneads her tummy with his strong big hands. She opens her eyes slightly to look over at him, he’s got his eyebrows furrowed with concentrated eyes, staring at his hand kneading her abdomen like he’s giving everything he has into it. The somewhat stern expression on his face and how he’s taking such good care of her is pushing her further into that subby mood she fell in when she woke up.

“I hate when you’re in pain, baby love.” He brings his other hand up to softly caress her cheek.

All these nicknames and affection is really not helping her situation, with every knead to her belly, soft touch, and affectionate whisper she feels herself being pushed deeper and deeper into that mood where she just wants to be taken care of.

Harry has been anticipating it. He knows she usually goes under when she’s on her period, he’s surprised it hasn't happened sooner. He loves it though, when all his gorgeous girl wants is to be taken care of.

“You’re slipping aren’t you, pretty girl?” he says softly, looking her in the eyes and seeing that usual doe eyed glint she gets in them when she’s like this.

She just nods and moves to nuzzle her head into his neck but he stops her softly. She whimpers and he pouts, feeling sorry for her.

“Don’t you want me to go get you some pain medicine, baby?”

“Just wanna cuddle, daddy. Please.” She whines.

She’s really slipping.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweet girl. I’ll cuddle you.”

She’s mumbling nonsensical words and Harry is absentmindedly smiling at every mutter that comes out of her perfect lips, that he’s dying to kiss.

“Want a kiss, pet. Gimme a kiss.” he says softly and she moves her head from being tucked safely under his neck to position her lips in front of his. He puckers them slightly as they’re leaning in, wanting so badly to kiss his girl.

He takes control of this kiss, kissing her slow and sensual, moaning faintly into it every so often, when she comes up for air his head tries to reach for her lips barely even aware he’s doing it.

“Baby love?” Harry whispers, his face still in front of hers and his eyes still closed gently.

“Daddy?”

He opens his eyes when she says this, trying his best to read her expression, or try to get a grip on where her head is at.

“S’Harry, baby.” he corrects, but she just stares at him, blinking, “does it still hurt, my love?”

She nods meekly and tries to tuck her head back into the safe haven of his neck but he stops her for the second time tonight.

She whines dramatically and pouts at him.

“S'ok, pretty girl. Just wanna ask you something.”

“Hmm, daddy?”

“Harry. It’s Harry, my sweet girl.” he corrects but he knows it’s no use, she’s going to be like this for a while and it’s not that he has any problem with it, (he loves when she’s like this) he just wants to make sure she’s aware of everything that’s going on. It’s important that she feels safe.

“Would you be alright if I go down to the store and get you something for the pain, love? It’ll only be for a little bit.” he says, his hands cupping her face and softly rubbing her cheeks.

“Don’t wanna be by myself, daddy.” she grumbles and he frowns.

“Harry.” he corrects again.

“Hmm?” she hums.

“It’s Harry, pretty. And I’m only gonna be gone for a little bit. If you need me you can call me, right?”

“I want cuddles, H.”

H? We’re getting somewhere, he thinks.

“We can cuddle when I get back and it’ll be even better cause you won’t be in so much pain anymore, my love. That sound good to you?”

“Cuddles sound good to me.” She grumbles in annoyance and even though Harry can tell she’s a bit cross with him at the moment he smiles.

“There’s my girl.” he says softly. She's slowly coming back to him.

“Good? M’good right?”

“Always good. My sweet, perfect, pretty, good girl.” he says with a smile and it’s almost like Harry can feel the heat rise to her cheeks on his palm.

He slowly gets up and detaches herself from her getting dressed to quickly go get something that’ll take his girl out of her misery. She whines and pouts but soon figures out that he comes back just as quick as he left.

“M’back, angel. Got you some Motrin and a glass of water. Drink up. Want you to feel better.”

She takes the pills and slowly drinks the water all while Harry is attentively watching her, wiping some of the water that dripped down her chin.

“Good girl. You should feel better soon, kay?”

“Can I please have cuddles now?” She grumbles with a pout and Harry mocks her expression for a second before his lips break into a smile.

“‘Course you can, baby love.”

Harry doesn’t think anyone could possibly be as adorable as his girl is.

[flamingo-writes]

Moorning dear flamingo I come with another request that was on my mind all night after reading the last update for the 5th time, sorry for bothering you so much in advance.

So ok, I was thinking about something like this, hobie because of all the swings he usually does, he has these recurring back pains so reader makes a special oil/atom for him and they have this super cute scene of care from reader to hobes♡

Midnight, I swear, seeing your blog on my notes makes my day. You’d never bother me btw, keep dropping your ideas and I’ll make them happen 😭💕

Listen, with the whole moving houses, my legs hurt sm 😂 do I think it’s a beautiful timing (however not beautiful that my legs hurt). This took me 4 days to write help 😭

So, seeing from all older spidermen, Peter B Parker (ITSV), Tobey’s and Andrew’s Peters also had back pain, so, for things I’m gonna go for an older Hobie (instead of being Spider-Man for three years, I’m gonna go for more time)

Warnings: not proof read djsjejef

Like Magic — Hobie x Reader

Being Spider-Man wasn’t easy. The rebellious acts, the recklessly jumping from top buildings, the constantly facing danger. On a superficial level, it all sounded fun to Hobie Brown. But by the end of the day, he always came back home tired. He loved his side job as Spider-Man, he loved wrecking havoc and bringing smiles to people, but it was a demanding job with no free days and no pay check. At most, food the people he helped gifted him, the smiles and good wishes from people. It was gratifying, but it did nothing for his tired muscles.

Especially swinging from one building to the other. The constant tension on his muscles and swinging his hips to gather momentum, had a particular rough effect on his back. All of it. From his shoulders all the way to his lower back.

People always made jokes how one day you woke up, in your late twenties, and trying to crouch to pick something from the ground, something new cracked and nothing was the same afterwards.

While Hobie could still crouch and pick up stuff, he did a lot more rough jobs with his back. He didn’t think of himself as old. But being Spider-Man was not a job that was friendly on your joints or muscles.

With every passing year of being Spider-Man, he resented it on his back.

He slid into your shared bedroom, his body tired, exhausted. You were stitching something on the bed as you looked at him and smiled.

“Hey, baby,” You said cheerfully.

Your radiant smile made Hobie feel like some of the weight lifted off his shoulders, despite the ache all over still being there.

“Hey sweet’eart” He smirked and groaned as he took off his mask and put his guitar down. He went punto your bed and cupped your face, directing your attention to him as you giggled and pressed your lips against his, humming sweetly into his kiss.

“Watcha doing?” He asked curiously.

“Fixing my favourite skirt,”

“Good. I like that skirt on you,” He sighed. “I like it even better when you take it off,” He winked as he collapsed on the bed and groaned loudly.

“Are you alright?” You asked softly, Hobie groaned in response. “Is your back bothering you again?”

“Yeah…” He sighed. “You know, swinging and shit,” Looking at you with a sleepy smirk. “Baby…”

“I know,” You said anticipating his request as you got up and looked around one of the drawers of your closet, taking out some ointment. “You know the drill…” You said as he sat up and took off his shirt and top part of his suit. Lying back down, over his stomach, Hobie relaxed on the bed as you rubbed some ointment in your hands. “Lower back?”

“All of it actually…” He sighed deeply, closing his eyes.

As you started massaging his back, he let out a soft groan. Burying his face on the pillow. You chuckled. Gently pressing your fingers, you admired the little details in Hobie. His wild hair, thin complexion, the fading scars from wounds from earlier events, his enhanced healing factor quickly erasing any tracks from previous fights.

Your hands, soft and delicate against his skin, a lot warmer than your hands, as your fingers pressed on the tense points of his back. Each touch, making him sigh in relief. Following the line of his spine, the contour of his muscles, brushing his sides, tickling him every once in a while.

“God, how do you do it?” Hobie moaned softly. "It’s like magic,"

“Well you see, when you have to massage your boyfriend’s back on a daily basis, you learn a thing or two on massaging…”

“Lucky guy,”

“You think? I think I’m the lucky one, actually” you giggled as you leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss on his shoulder, making him hum.

“Are you sure? I’ve heard he’s a total punk,”

“Love that about him. He’s perfect for me so, people can say whatever they want about him, I won’t love him any less…” You purred against his ear.

“Would it be too bad if tomorrow I decided to stay in bed with you all day long?”

“I need to go to work,” You giggled.

“No you don’t. Your boss won’t mind,”

“Hobie,”

“When was the last time you called in sick?”

“Yes, you have a point there but,”

“Let’s be real, the book shop won’t crash just because you aren’t there. I know you love working there, and your boss in nice to you, but how many people buy secondhand books on a daily basis?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You’re right. We don’t get a lot of people, he can handle the store on his own for a day…” You sighed. "You win, Hobart…" You rolled your eyes playfully at him.

"I always win," he said with a cheeky smirk, rolling over his side as he looked at you with an inviting stare.

Sighing and dramatically putting your hands on your waist. His stare changing into a puppy look, making you giggle as you went over the bed and laid down next to him. As he pulled you into a tight hug. Nuzzling his face against the crook of your neck, you wrapped your arms around him.

"Thank you…" He whispered, his voice much lower and softer. A voice you only got to listen in times like these. "I promise I won’t ask you to skip work for the rest of the year…"

"It’s July, Hobie…"

"It’s my best offer, take it or leave it…" He chuckled as you kissed his forehead.

"You’re impossible," You joked.

"You love me this way," He smirked.

"I do. Very much, actually"

"I love you too,"

[oleander-nin]

Flirting and Feelings(Rise! Leo x Reader)

A/N, not important: Hate this with all my heart. I can't write. Going to scream. This was going to be so much longer, but if I have to spend any more time on it, I'm going to rip my hair out. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: bad writing, emotions, Leo gets really anxious for a minute there

Words: 1485

Summary: ROTTMNT Leo decided to boldly flirt but the reader thinks he's making fun of them.

Leo keeps his gaze on the human in the doorway, a dreamy look in his eyes as he watches them laugh with Mikey in the kitchen. It was hard for Leo to stay silent, wanting nothing more than to go up to his crush friend and start talking to them. Being able to only watch the two talk, the two cook, hurt. Leo had talked to Mikey earlier to confirm they didn’t each have a crush on the same person, Leo almost giddy with joy when Mikey denied feeling any romantic attraction towards (Y/n). Leo was confident Mikey remembered the plan, Mikey having felt bad for Leo’s inability to converse with his crush. All Leo needed to do was wait for the signal, and he could go talk to (Y/n). Alone. Leo gulped, taking in a deep breath trying to calm his nerves. He’d have to wait for them to put whatever they were making into the oven first anyway, he had time. He just had to memorize what to say.

Leo looks back to his phone, a light dust of red across his snout and spreading to his cheek bone refuses to fade, the anticipation making his heart beat furiously. The wikiHow article wasn’t the most helpful, but it was better than Donnie’s advice.(He appreciated it, but Leo had the feeling that ignoring (Y/n) and not talking to them at all wouldn’t help.) The only thing that resonated with Leo was to flirt. Leo was confident he could do that, and most likely do it well. Leo was the face man after all, smooth talking was his thing!

Leo’s head perks up once more as he hears the shut of the oven, Mikey saying something to (Y/n) Leo couldn’t quite hear. Leo watches carefully as Mikey exits the kitchen with his hands behind his back, whistling the opening tune to the Jupiter Jim 8 episode mini series: The Galactic 7. Mikey winks at Leo before going down one of the many adjoined tunnels in the lair, leaving Leo’s sight. Leo beams, his hands tapping his thighs nervously. The whistling tune was the signal, he had around 30 minutes to go do what he wanted. A romantic confession between two people who were certainly destined to fall in love. At least, that’s what Leo hoped.

Swallowing his fear, Leo stands up and rubs his sweaty palms on his bike shorts, making his way to the kitchen. Knocking slightly on the wooden cabinet by the entrance to alert them to his presence, Leo shoots (Y/n) the smuggest grin he could muster. (Y/n) gives Leo a small wave return, acknowledging him before returning back to their phone. Leo’s confidence crumbles slightly at this, having wanted a more definite confirmation that he was welcome in their presence. Leo shrugs it off though, his wide grin still plastered on his face despite the vice around his chest.

Leo leans against the island counter, drumming his knuckles against the hard surface. (Y/n) glances at Leo, their eyes scanning his as they attempt to decipher what the turtle mutant was doing. Leo picks up one of his hands, halting the small rhythm being beaten into the faux wood surface and gives (Y/n) a small wave. Leo’s face softens as the human rolls their eyes, chuckling softly. The butterflies tormenting his stomach calm slightly, his chest filling with air once more.

“You feeling okay?” The sudden sound of their voice makes Leo jump slightly, the haze lifting off his brain. Leo lets out a small laugh, a brighter, softer smile replacing the previous smug one.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Do you have a Band-aid though?” Leo’s confidence quickly returns as he asks his question, his brain staticky as he tries to keep his hands from shaking. This was it. He was going to tell them. Sure, he was going to tell them through a dorky pick-up line, but tell them nonetheless.

(Y/n) shifts in their position, putting their phone on the island as they pat their pockets. They frown slightly, looking up at Leo with concern that made his heart melt. “Nope, sorry. Do you need me to run to the bathroom to get you one?”

Leo just about died at that, feeling touched they cared enough to offer to go get one for him. He felt slightly guilty now, knowing he wasn’t actually injured. “No, it’s fine. I just scraped my knees when I fell for you.” Leo accompanies the delivery of the line with a wink, a small blush adorning his face once more. It felt off to Leo, he knew he said it wrong. It didn’t flow out of his mouth the way he wanted it to, and he felt his chest tighten up again. Leo scans their face, his bright smile seeming more nervous as he awaits (Y/n)’s response.

And waited.

And waited.

Leo’s smile falls completely at (Y/n)’s reaction, or lack thereof, as he starts twiddling with his fingers laughing nervously. (Y/n)’s face is blank, their forefinger tapping the counter as they look at Leo with their eyebrows furrowed. Leo didn’t understand. He expected a reaction at the very least, not judging silence. Leo chewed on the inside of his cheek, laughing nervously as he opened his mouth to speak. “Hey, look I’m-”

“Don’t say something you don’t mean.”

Leo’s taken aback by their sudden words, their face not changing from the annoyed look. Leo sinks slightly at the interruption, not knowing how to respond. “Excuse me?”

(Y/n) sighs, their body shifting to lean on their right arm while their left hand pinches the bridge of their nose in frustration. They let out a tired sigh, and Leo’s heart sinks into his stomach. Leo didn’t understand what he did wrong. Were they mad at him? Why was their first thought that Leo was lying? Did they really dislike Leo this much?

“The pick-up line. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” They finally clarified, their arms now crossed. Leo pats his thighs awkwardly, feeling stupid and pathetic. How did he mess up so badly he made the one person he finally loved believe his feelings were a joke? Leo regretted trying, regretted not listening to Donnie. Maybe this all would’ve gone better if Leo just ignored his feelings until they disappeared.

Leo racks his brain, trying to find the best way to explain why he did what he did. In the end, only four simple words popped out. “I meant every word.”

(Y/n) gives Leo a look he can’t quite decipher, his mask mimicking furrowing eyebrows as he scans them. (Y/n) visibly chews on their cheek, huffing slightly. “Do you mean it?”

Leo nods, swallowing nervously as his fingers tap out a nonsensical rhythm into the counter. (Y/n)’s face finally has a smile, small chuckles falling from their lips. (Y/n) reaches their hand out, setting it on top of Leo’s own shaking appendage. Leo’s eyes softened, his face one of worry but it was starting to settle. Leo meets (Y/n)’s eyes, trying to figure out the meaning of anything (Y/n) was doing.

“I like you too, Leo.”

Leo freezes at this, his brain frying for a moment as he processes (Y/n)’s words. They like him back. They like him back. Leo’s face finally breaks from the stress filled gaze as a large smile kicks his frown out of place. Leo pats the counter, his brain buzzing with excitement. Leo rounds the island while (Y/n) watches with a smile, a loud laugh coming from their mouth when Leo pulls them into a tight hug. Leo feels their arms wrap around him, their hands resting in the middle of his carapace. Leo was shaking slightly, his brain running a mile a minute as he held (Y/n) close. (Y/n) pats Leo’s back, pushing him off slightly as they let out an awkward laugh. Leo lets go, an embarrassed blush tinting his green cheeks red. Leo pats his thighs twice, looking around the kitchen to avoid (Y/n)’s gaze. 

“So….” Leo starts, still avoiding (Y/n)’s eyes. Leo watches them lean their back against the wall, the dopey grin on (Y/n)’s face making Leo’s heart flutter. (Y/n) motions one of their hands in a circle, prompting Leo to continue. “Would you like to become my partner?”

(Y/n) snorts at this, laughing at his choice in wording. The human flashes Leo a wide smile, looking at Leo endearingly. “In crime, or romantic? Because both are a yes.”

Leo quickly pulls (Y/n) into another hug, rambling on and on about how happy he was, his voice loud as he cheers. (Y/n) just hugs Leo back and lets him ramble, happy to be in the moment.

[happyanderes]

⚠︎Bribery⚠︎

☎︎003-001

Yandere reaper (Kane) x AFAB Ghost reader

Word count:3.4k

⚠︎Warning:dub-con, size kink, ghost anatomy, handjob,manipulation

(A/n): Finally finished it. Woohoo

The seed of death was planted in your mortal body the moment you were born, you’ve been dying since you began living, but you thought there would’ve been more time before it takes complete root over you.

But the flowers bloomed much faster than you anticipated, death took over you much too soon as red splatters on the road, on your cold body.

You kneel in front of your dead self, long forgotten how to stand because of the sight in front of you.

You try, you try so hard to be brought back to life, to give yourself a heartbeat, but your hands simply phase through everything, you can only feel the rocky ground under, hurting your knees as your half transparent skin appears red from your hands.

You sniffle, you want to see, you want to find a way to wake up from this dream, but tears blur your eyes, and your knees sting.

“I spy with my little eye……a weeping little ghost.”

You jump at the sudden low voice, even in the chaotic sound of cries, his voice was clear like a siren.

You turn around, only to face nothing but black mist.

“Boo.” You yelp at the voice next to your ear and back off fearfully, palms scraping against concrete.

Then, you see a man, a tall, giant man. Who had chains on his body and a daring smile.

He only chuckles at your fearful expression and extends his hand out for you to hold.

“C’mon, up you go.” As soon as you place your hand in his palm, he pulls you up to your feet and twirls you so that your back is facing the scene and casually slings an arm around your shoulder.

You don’t know what to do, only able to be led away like a puppet.

“Look at you, cute as a button, lying on the streets is not somewhere you belong.” The man says as he boops your nose. “Someone like you don’t deserve hell, don’t you?”

“Ahh, but do you really belong in heaven, though……”

He whispers by your ear, his breath making you shiver. You feel nauseous, you think your cheeks are heating up, if your heart didn’t stop, it would be beating like crazy by now.

“Now, let’s see where you can go, hmm?” He holds a file up, the words are almost unable to be deciphered, the writing has a……personal flare to it.

“Ah……you’re such a little sweetheart,” he says as he flips a page. “But there’s a little problem, you see.” His words made your stomach churn, your gaze trail down to where he’s pointing. When you finally see what is written on it, you feel your cheeks grow so hot it’s cooking your skin, a small gasp leaves your lips.

“I see there’s a lot going down there at night, eh?” He says as you see him glancing down at the spot between your legs. You shift uncomfortably and move your hand to cover it as discreetly as possible, but your hand was only snatched by the reaper’s larger one.

“Covering it won’t do anything, sweetheart, see?” He holds your hand up for you to see, you realize your hand is similar to that of a colored wine glass, your skin tone at the edges while the middle is almost transparent, tinted in your skin tone.

He plays with your fingers, brushing your knuckles with his thumb.

“To think that you pleasure yourself with these small fingers……surely it’s not enough, no?”

Your fingers are only small because they’re compared to the hand of a literal giant, this man is at least seven feet tall (about 213cm). But you couldn’t answer, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You try pulling away, but he only laughs as your effort is nothing more than a mere tickle.

“Oh there’s nothing to be scared of, I’m helping you!” He says, pulling your body flush against his, but instead of feeling stickiness and heat from him, he is cold as ice, you shiver slightly.

“A little sweetheart like you don’t deserve eternal torture in hell! You don’t want pain, don’t you?” He says, looking into your eyes. “I know just the way to help you, but I need a bit of…..convincing.”

Your eyes widen, and you see his eyes trailing up your body.

“It’s easy, really, just a little…...bribery.” He says, you see the way his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

“Do you agree? It’s a small price to pay!”

You can only lower your head, after all, you would probably go to hell if you don’t.

The two of you enter a different dimension entirely, you find yourself standing in front of a rather large house, the colors red and black. Almost like the home of a villain.

“Make yourself at home!” The reaper says as he leads you inside by your hand, his grip feels a little too tight, his strides a little too fast, you feel your heart tightens, not knowing what to do in a situation like this. But soon, you find yourself standing in front of a king sized bed, with the reaper, who you now know is called Kane by your side. You see the bed has black sheets and pillows, they look soft to sleep in, but the reality kicking in makes no room for your mind to think about sleep at all. You feel that your stomach is churning, like a sinking feeling, so you look up at him with worried eyes.

Even though it’s for going to heaven, you’re hooking up with someone you simply just met.

“I……I’m not sure about—“

“Do you want to go to hell?” With a smile, he looks down at you and says, his brows slightly furrowed. You seem to be annoying him a bit.

You say nothing and shut your trembling lips tight, shaking your head lightly. “No……”

“That’s what I like to hear.” His eyes soften a bit and gently place both of his hands on your shoulders, pushing you down to sit on the bed.

“Lay down for me, my little ghost.”

You comply and lay down on your back, he smirks.

Your life and death is in his grasp, hanging over your head. While he’s nicer about it than you think, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s enjoying the fact that he has control over you, that you are not only his little ghost, but a doll, a toy, something made solely for his entertainment.

A shadow is casted upon his face, but it’s hard to miss that wide grin as he straddles you, locking you under his large body.

You nervously look up at him with dampened eyes, body shivering not only in slight fear, but also rising excitement and anticipation.

You can’t shake the feeling that he can read your mind when an amused huff leaves the reaper’s lips, then he gently runs the back of his hand down your jaw and holds your chin in his hand.

Without a word, he leans down and pulls you into a hungry kiss, all teeth and tongue. You grasp onto his clothes with your fingers due to being overwhelmed by the suddenness, you’re supposed to be dead, yet why are you out of breath?

His tongue invades your mouth, exploring every little detail inside, his arms wrap around your body, pulling you close to him.

After what felt like forever, he pulls away, not breaking a single sweat and his breathing is completely fine. He licks his lips and grins.

“You taste sweet.”

He says and places his hands on your clothes, the blood on it still wet for some reason, you let out a small hiss as his fingers brush through a scratch wound on your shoulder. He stops his hands.

“Poor thing, you look just like when you died, here, let me fix it.” He says as a cold dark mist covers all your wounds, and by the time you open your eyes, the wounds are gone.

“The higher ups keep the souls’ sense of pain intact so hell can torture them.” The reaper says in a tone like he’s talking about the weather as he peels your clothes away from your body, the cold air hits your skin, sending goosebumps down your body.

“……we can explore that in the future.” He whispers with a smirk as he places his large cold hands behind your back.

“What was that……?” You ask, not hearing what he just said.

“Nothing important,” He smiles knowingly, you decided not to push it, you couldn’t anyway as you feel his hand removing your bra. Out of reflex, you try to hide your chest, but the reaper was quick to it and grabbed both of your wrists in his hand, giving them a squeeze that’s almost painful, a small whimper escapes your lips.

You feel your entire body heat up when his eyes look into yours with a hint of warning for a brief second, then back to your mounds.

“There’s no need to hide them, little ghost.” He whispers, “they’re perfect, just like you.”

Gently, he let go of your hands, unleashed the chains and took off his shirt. He wasn’t wearing a lot from the start, but now without the obstruction of that fraying fabric, but now you can see perfectly. He’s really muscular, which you already have a clue just from how he looks with his clothes on. But you still suck a breath in when you see them, every curve and line of his muscles distinct and clear, like a sculpture, the tattoo written in an unknown language right across his broad chest makes it even clearer, following the lines on his body. You raise your hand up, asking him for permission, he chuckles and gives you the go ahead. With great hesitation, you place a hand on his chest, feeling it ripple under your palm, you can see it through your hand, as it’s half transparent. You spread your fingers and squeeze it gently, they feel rock hard.

He seems to enjoy your touch and hums.

“My turn.” He mumbles and places a large hand upon your marshmallow-like softness, a hand easily enveloping one. He squeezes and massages one side, his cold hands sending shivers down your spine. An involuntary noise leaves your lips when his calloused thumb brushes over the tip of your nipple. You bite your lips while he chuckles with mirth.

“That was the sweetest little noise I heard, tell me, do you make noises like this when you touch yourself?”

You shake your head out of embarrassment, and he chuckles, but decides not to push it, instead moving his lips to envelop your other nipple between his lips. He plays the little nub with his tongue, rolling it and sucking on it, when suddenly, he uses his teeth. It was light, yet the sensation made you gasp, you feel your lower abdomen clench.

You hear his laughter.

“Now, how about some help before we get to the real deal?”

He stands up and away from the bed, you sit up and look at him, slightly confused until he unbuckles his belt and unbutton his jeans, pulling it down slowly. You couldn’t help but stare at the bulge in his jeans, and the outline of it.

Alas, he is bare in front of you, his erection standing in front of you. You feel a shiver run down your spine when you see the size of it, your mouth feels dry.

His cold palm pets your hair gently. You look up at him in slight fear, he wants you to use your mouth on that? But it’s big, you don’t think you can take it without your jaw breaking, and is it leaking?

Your lips purse shut as tears well in your eyes, seeing you like this, he gently takes your hand in his, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Don’t be scared, use your hand first, m’kay?”

He whispers, “we have all the time in the world.”

He guides your hand to his crotch and with his hand upon yours, he wraps your fingers around his cock, it’s cold to the touch, your breath hitches when you realize your fingers can’t completely wrap around the thick rod.

“Your hands are so soft.” He sighs fondly, then he guides your hand to slowly slide up and down his length. It’s smooth for the most part, aside from a vein trailing up to almost the tip of it. It’s straight, but the upper half is noticeably larger.

As the two of you reach a steady rhythm, he let go of your hand, you can see the red flush of his cock through your transparent fingers, you feel the way it pulses under your hand. The more you notice, the more that feeling in your lower stomach intensifies.

He sighs and grunts occasionally, petting your hair, he wants you to just continue until he paints your body white, but he shouldn’t be the only one enjoying this.

After a while, takes your wrist in his hand, pulling it away easily, his cock aches immediately, longing for your hands to wrap embrace it again.

Without a word, he picks you up and places you on his lap. Through your fabric, you can feel his hardness pressed against you, you tense up at the feeling.

He chuckles and tells you to relax before reaching into your panties to slide his finger along your slit, feeling the contact on your private parts, you squirm uncomfortably, but it only causes friction against his length, making him want you more. With his other arm, he holds you down by wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush up against his chest.

“You’re not ready yet,” He whispers in your ear when he pulls his fingers out and places it in front of you to examine it, there isn't much fluid on them.

You yelp when he goes back and plunges a finger inside of you. You hold onto his arm and pull on it almost pathetically, but he doesn’t budge, in fact, he stops, the room is silent, only your heavy breathing.

“Don’t you want to stay in a good place?” He says, his voice almost threatening. Hearing those words, you have no choice but to let go of his arm. He kisses your temple and mumbles “that’s my little ghost.” Then he gets back to it, preparing you and exploring you with his ice cold finger, the unusual low temperature of his skin stimulating you like little electric shocks. You whine and hold onto his arm that’s around your waist when he hits a certain spot, you try not to struggle or dig your nails into his arm, even though something tells you he won’t mind it.

“That’s it……” he coos and adds another finger in, it’s a stretch, and it stings a bit, but the pleasure is undeniable, your walls squeeze around him so tightly and that knot building up in your stomach tightens.

Sensing you’re close, he curls his fingers up in that particular spot, like that, your vision flashes white for a split moment, your head throws back, hitting his chest as a long moan spills from your lips. He continues to thrust his fingers inside of you, to help you ride your high.

You fall limp in his embrace, your chest heaving up and down as you breath heavily.

“You’re so warm, to think you’ll go all cold in a few days……” he mumbles with a smirk, you see his canines, sharp and longer than a normal person’s, it looks menacing, cunning, sly, like he relishes in the fact that he knows something you don’t.

But you’re too out of it to think.

He pulls his fingers out and holds onto your waist, easily picking you up and placing you on his bed, this time more harshly than before. You see that he too, is excited, his expression matted with sweat and his breathing heavy.

After taking off the remaining clothing you’re wearing, he takes one of your ankles easily and places it on his shoulder, the other holding your hip.

He moves to align his length against your entrance, sliding up and down your slit to cover the head of his cock with your slick.

“W-wait……!” You breathe as you weakly press a hand onto his lower abdomen.

“Please, just a little break……it’s too much……” you say with a whimper, looking into his eyes with your own, tears of overstimulation prickling at the corner, threatening to spill, you beg him to give you some time, but instead, he smirks.

“Don’t be scared, you’ll forget about being tired soon.” With those words, he mercilessly sheaths his whole length inside of you, ignoring your struggling and crying, it stretches you way more than his fingers did as your pelvises meet harshly.

“Feels better than touching yourself, huh?” He rolls his hips teasingly, drawing a whine out from you, painful pleasure washes over you like waves crashing against the shore.

“And look what we have here,” he says, his finger slides down your stomach, to a certain point.

He guides you with his arm to slowly push yourself up and look down at where he’s pointing, when you do, your eyes widen.

Through your transparent stomach, you can see his massive cock inside of you. The sight is unusual, and embarrassing, so you squeeze your eyes shut and turn away, but he grasps onto your jaw and turns your face to see your stomach almost forcefully.

“Look at it, see who’s gonna fuck you so well.” He says with that grin as he begins to thrust into you. Your tired self can only watch as his cock moves in and out of you, every slam against your pussy gains a whine from your lips.

He leans down to kiss your neck, sucking and biting the flesh there, almost enough to draw blood, the pain mixed with the feeling of him pushing in and out of you and that vein rubbing against your insides is just overwhelming. You feel that familiar knot forming inside of you again, you moan louder, echoing in the room along with the noise of your pussy squelching and his grunts.

His speed grows faster and faster, your whole body is trembling, you’re close.

As if sensing you’re near your orgasm, Kane’s thrusts grow sloppier and more desperate, chasing his own high, the bed creaks and your body bounces along with his movements.

You can’t take it anymore, with a loud scream, your back arches, your walls tighten around him, making him almost unable to move, the reaper groans at the sensation of you being so tight around him, but pushes on.

After a few more thrusts, he came, you feel something warm and hot fill you, the first bit of heat you’ve felt from him today. You slowly look down, to see that your stomach is no longer transparent, a trail of white clear as day as it leaks out from where the two of you are still connecting.

You lay back down and sigh tiredly.

“Does this mean……I can go to heaven……?” You ask with a small, hopeful voice.

Kane looks down at you as if you said something funny, his eyes crinkle as a loud laugh escapes his mouth.

“Oh little sweetheart, you could’ve.”

You feel your stomach drop.

“W-what do you mean……? You said I could go to heaven if I……do this with you……” you begin to panic, your head clearing up as you push yourself to sit up.

“Heaven? Who said anything about heaven? I said you can go to ‘a good place’ if you agree to my conditions,” he says while shrugging. “Plus, touching yourself was no big crime, people like you probably gets reincarnation. But now……bribing your reaper so you can get to heaven? Now that’s a one way ticket to hell.”

Your face pales, but he sees your fear as something adorable, a game, the childish cruelty of crushing a bug for fun. He pulls you close to his chest, you feel his cock hardening inside you again.

“Oh don’t worry, I mean it when I say you don’t deserve hell, you’ll stay with me, this is the only ‘good place’ for you now.” He laughed as he began to thrust into you again.

Your heart sinks to the bottom, tears stream down your face at the devastating truth, you were lied to, betrayed. Yet even if you blame it all on him, you have no choice but to become his, like he said, you have no better place to go.