#Silence in Adversity | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aetherraeys · 20 days ago

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worst behaviour

poly!moonwater x afab!reader ⊹ 2.5k

cw ⟢ smut, mdni 18+, swearing, reader lashes out, signs of burnout, edging, brat taming, bratty!reader, soft!rem, choking, p in v, lowercase intended

summary: the pressure of a work project is making you act out of character and poor regulus receives the brunt of your stress and he simply wont have it.

a/n: so much horny brainrot, writing this when my midterms are two days away....i think i need jail time....not proofread x

it’s been hours.

hours since you sat down at your desk, working tirelessly on your project, eyes straining against blue light of the screen, back hunched over. the backs of your irises burning under the pressure of a mild headache that has been brewing since the morning.

the project wasn’t due for another six days, and yet every single day since you’d been assigned it, you forced yourself to focus on nothing else. the looming pressure of failure and desire for perfection invasively creeping into the forefront of your mind whenever you tried to rest.

and it was having some adverse affects on your, usually, rather pleasant and sweet disposition.

you had been told before that you don’t handle stress well, and that your tongue can get quiet sharp without you realising, but you hadn’t even noticed your scrowl and sour attitude.

or the harsh tone you’d been using with regulus all day.

and he was well aware of the stress you refused to talk about, or even admit to feeling—as silently as possible trying to ease the pressure.

small things throughout the week, both him and remus had been worked to make sure you didn’t overwork yourself like always.

and remus had only popped out to the shops for maybe an hour, picking out ingredients to make you something that might tear you away from your laptop screen.

it was only when regulus had peaked into your shared room for the fifth time that day—just checking in—to see the water he’d left completely untouched. it forced his lips to purse together in mild frustration, but with a small inhale through his nose, he pushed down the desire to reprimand and slipped in through the door.

he was perched on the bed for a few moments before he spoke, voice light and gentle.

“you should drink some water, love,”

you didn’t acknowledge him with more than a mild hum, frown etching onto you face at his presence. its not that you didn’t want him there, but he was surely going to distract you, and in your mind, the faster you were done with this, the better.

even if it did mean being a bit distant.

he heard the way your fingers paused their steady typing when his voice cracked the manicured silence you worked in—resuming after a few moments, and still, he couldn’t bring himself to leave you for another hour in your scrunched position.

“you shouldn’t sit like that, love, you’ll hurt your back,”

regulus could have sworn he saw your eye twitch in the reflection of the screen, and you didn’t mask the small sigh that left you before you spoke, “i’ll be fine, reg.” tone clipped, words abrupt.

there were a few more beats of silence passed before the soft clicking of your fingers filled the room again. he continued to watch you intently—the way you picked at the skin around your nails each time you paused, one corner of your lips slightly reddened from your excessive biting, brows pinched in concentration.

“you haven’t left the room all day—come eat with me,”

he was already standing just beside you, still trying to push down the chiding words and coax you out of the same four walls you’d caged yourself in for the last five fours.

you didn’t even bother responding, but he saw the way your jaw clenched, the way your hands squeezed into small fists over the keyboard before stretching out, tapping a bit harder into the keys. he had to bite down the scoff that built in his throat at your blatant disregard, swallowing his pride—he knew it wasn’t personal, you were stressed, probably hungry and dehydrated—burntout.

raising his hands to your shoulders, his fingers worked lightly into the tense knots that had built in your shoulders, brows just as pinched as yours—in sympathy, “why don’t you take a break?”

it didn’t last long.

almost instantly you were shrugging off his touch, hands coming up to your face, forcibly rubbing over your eyes and browbone as if to will stress away, “please, reg. you’re making me lose my train of thought.” snippy and curt, but regulus could hear the undercutting tone of desperation in your voice.

not once did you spare him even a glace, and with another heavy sigh you tried to hone your attention in on your work, pushing down the simmering irritation that was burning in your chest.

couldn’t he just let you be?

let you work in peace?

so you can finish your work, just be done with it.

his lips pursed into a tight line, composing himself with a deep breath, hand hovering over your shoulder for a few moments before he let it rest on the back of the chair. “maybe if you ate something or took a few minutes, amour, you’d be able to—”

your head whipped up to him, eyes glossy in frustration, cutting his words short with a snap,

“could you fuck off for five minutes?!”

regulus’ jaw clicked, his brows arched high on his forehead at your words, and you knew you’d done it.

though that little outburst wasn’t the reason why you were in your current predicament.

lips bitten raw, chest rising and falling in rapid succession, head lolling against the pillow, hair stuck to the sweat that had prickled at your forehead—regulus fucking into you with a meanness that had you screwing your eyes shut.

“…stubborn little thing,” punctuating his breathless words with each unforgiving ram of his hips into yours, forcing the air out of your lungs in choked muffled mewls, teeth forced into the flesh of your lips. and, you were—stubborn. because you could have easily avoided this if you’d just apologised like he’d asked you to, but no. instead regulus was steadily working you to another high he was undoubtly going to deny you.

there was surely a darkening patch of wetness on the bed beneath where you were joined, thighs split over his hips, his brows were knit tightly together, chest rising with each puff of air he sucked in—he was grinning down at you dangerously now. tongue darting out to wet his lips—”cat got your tongue now, amour?”

you squirmed in his hold, hips bucking into, then away from the rummaging thrusts he pushed into you, shaking your head into the pillow as your eyes squeezed together even tighter.

“hmmm, g’na let me hear you, then?”

regulus was only met with another hushed cry, smothered by your teeth’s long lasting refuge into your bottom lip and more mindless shakes of your head. your wrists were crossed over your abdomen, held together by the bruising grip of his hands—using you as leverage to fuck into you harsher, producing a lewd squelch from between you.

“aww, my girl doesn’t wanna talk to me?” he was goading, forcing more bullying thrusts up into your plush walls, legs stuttering and trembling where they bracketed his hips, “that’s okay, amour, my girl can have whatever she—wants,” runting into you explicitly mean, adjusting his grip on your wrists.

watching with a leering smirk as your eyes rolled back in your head, lips parting to release a singular honeyed whine, before immediately worrying shut. and regulus noticed it, narrowing his eyes, and bucking up in that same manner—earning him another cry, and a wolfish grin split onto his face.

he could feel it, the way you clenched and pulsed around him, each time his pressed into that spot. “thaat’s more like it, amour, nice and loud for me,” brows furrowing in concentration, working the coil that rested in the pits of your stomach tighter and tighter.

your blood was ringing in ears, spine arching at the pleasure, heat spreading invasively under you skin—trying to focus on anything other than the delicious stretch that sparked through you with each thrust. but it felt like all senses except for touch, had been dulled.

so much so, that you didn’t notice the soft click of your bedroom door when it shut behind remus.

“well, well, well,” he drawled, immediately settling on the bed next you, eyes dark with interest, “couldn’t wait an hour before you started the fun, reg?”

you just barely found the strength to let your eyes open just a slither, head rolling to find remus just inches away from you—smirk etched onto his face in amusement as your gasping whines filled his ears. “haah—not even. this brat couldn’t behave for the hour you were gone,”

mouth parting, your protests falling dead on your lips, only able to shake your head deliriously as your bucked your hips into regulus, loud mewls leaving as you got dangerously close to the edge. gaze still trained on remus, as he hummed in acknowledgement—bringing his hand to brush the hairs that stuck to your face away. “oooo, what d’you do, pet?” cooing in a low tone, breath fanning over your cheek.

you couldn’t focus on his words even if your tried, eyes screwing shut as the coil in your stomach threatened to snap, walls fluttering frantically around regulus, forcing a groan from his lips as he quickly reeling all the way out, his tip just barely kissing your glossy folds, watching as you clenched around nothing.

speaking breathlessly over your frustrated cries, “was just trying to take care of her—she told me to fuck off,” releasing one grip over your wrists, pushing teasingly against your slit before bullying his way back into your core, bottoming out in one languid thrust, his breath catching in his throat as he continue, “too, ngh—too stubborn to say sorry,”

regulus wasted no time in working you back up, even as you whined in protest, looking over to remus with pleading eyes as he ground his hips harshly into yours—adding just the right amount of pressure to leave you leaking and gushing around him.

remus was still stroking your head, eyes soft when they met yours.

but his lips split into a deceivingly innocent smirk as he spoke, “don’t look at me, dove, you know what you have to do,”

your eyes were glossy when you squeezed them shut, a broken cry of, “hngh—rem,” leaving your lips, and you could hear the low snicker that left him as you turned away. regulus shifted, using all his weight to pressing into you harder, and the change in angle made you head spin, forcing wanton babbles out as you shook your head restlessly.

working you up again, too fast, and you could barely think straight, let alone breath—drinking in greedy gasps of air, fruitlessly trying to squirm away each heavy plow of his hips. you were clamping down around him, the pressure of your walls had regulus’ jaw slacking—words littered with hoarse groans, “f-fuck, close already, amour?”

you couldn’t respond, not when remus’ voice was in your ears, filling the blank space in your brain with his low and honeyed tone, lips just carressing the shell of your ear.

“hmm, don’t you wanna cum, pet? so stubborn, gonna make reggie fuck it out of you?”

it was all too much, the rough drag of regulus filling you up, the way one of remus’ hands wandered over your skin, hitching you leg to give regulus more room, or how he nipped at you jaw the second your neck craned away and stretched as your back arched—you could almost taste your high, so close your hips trembled and vision blurred.

and then nothing.

empty.

regulus had pulled away with a sharp hiss, just when you were about to teeter over the edge, body shuddering against the mattress, tears of frustration welling in your eyes.

remus wasn’t looking at you anymore, gaze fixed on regulus as he sucked in a harsh breath, “merlin, reg, almost gave her a ruined one,”

he was already rocking into you after a few moments, hissing when as your walls sucked him in desperately—the wet slick sound mixing with your whines and whimpers once again. remus was too soft, taking pity on you ever so slightly—he was going to make you break.

bringing his hand gently over your throat, not squeezing, just resting, and you drew in a sharp inhale at the contact, brows curving into a deeper arch with each jolt of pleasure that ran through you.

“you want me to squeeze, love?”

your hands clenched into a tight fist, wiling your fast approaching high away, eyes rolling to the depths of your skull when regulus leaning into you, reeling his hips back before sinking all the way in, again and again and again into your poor swollen lips. you weren’t even sure you were in the room anymore, mind hazy with the endless onslaugh pleasure, nerve endings set alight—nodding deliriously at his words.

“yeah? be a good girl and break for me—give reggie what he wants,”

a almost gutteral groan left regulus at the first spasm of your walls around him, hips stuttering as your incoherent cries of half-formed thoughts, “mmphf, fuck—pleasepleaseplease, reggie—�� filled his ears.

hips chanting up into his to meet each thrust, eyes rolling into a tight squeeze, forcing tears out of the corners when you heard his voice, almost just as wrecked as yours, “hngh—not enough, amour—wanna hear you say it,”

you were practically melting into the mattress, body shivering with each push push push, walls were clinging to him so tight he almost struggled to pull away.

one testing press of remus hand around your neck, you caved—babbling urgent sobbing strings of, “m’sorry—hck, reg—gna be good, pleaseplease, m’sorry,”

dragging in deep breaths between words with every even deeper stroke he was planting on you, and when remus’ hand finally squeezed deliciously around your throat, you body went ridgid—high washing over you in unforgiving waves, vision spotting, breath hitching as regulus praise reached your ears.

“thaaat’s it, amour—cum f’me,”

the wet sounds of skin on skin becoming more and more languid before his head presses into your neck, cheeks flush against remus’ hand, strangled moans muffled by the press of his lips to your skin as he spilled inside you, “—mmphf, s-so good—fuck,”

jaw slacking as the aftershocks struck through, remus ever so gently peeling his hand away from your neck, thumbs brushing over the tops of your flushed cheekbones, as your shuddered coming down from high, blissful hums passing into the air from your lips.

body boneless as regulus pressed small delicate kisses to your skin, voice just above a whisper, more breath than words—”you okay, amour—not too much?” you just managed the smallest of nods before you melted into his touch, the tempting lull of sleep too strong to deny.

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beuxwhoyouare · 3 months ago

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Is It Infidelity?

Ethan & Mark came up in a generation that wasn’t fond of the idea of them. They combatted adversity to be together through it all after meeting each other in high school. Coming up in a time that wasn’t too kind to gay people, they found solace in one another’s company and through it all fell in love. By that point in time, the world began shifting. Being gay was more common and less frowned upon.

The pair ended up going to college together, getting married, climbing their career ladders, and establishing themselves in their community. Eventually in their early 40s they decided it was time to take the plunge and start a family. They eventually had their little Billy goat and thought this would be the beginning of their next chapter. But as much as they wanted Billy’s new life to be surrounded by love, it presented new challenges that made Ethan & Mark doubt their preparedness and worse…their love for each other.

They got through years of bigotry and hatred, but resentment built between the pair. Eventually they realized they needed to spend time together being more thoughtful and constructive with their communication and began trying to see a couples counselor, but that required help to take care of Billy.

That’s when they met Aaron. A former collegiate football player, Aaron was in pharmacy school trying to pay his way through and looking for relatively long term and stable gigs to allow him a routine to focus on school. Aaron overheard the pair squabbling one time about how to make time to go see the counselor when he had the idea to pitch himself as a potential nanny for Billy.

The two men were taken aback by the strangers act of generosity and they’d be remiss to ignore his archetypical great physique.

They invited him over for drinks at the house to get to know him better and ensure he wasn’t like a murderer or anything outlandish. His story endeared the couple to him even more and they all hit it off, including Billy. That was nearly 2 years ago now.

Ethan & Mark had seemingly worked on their tension, Aaron enjoyed their family unit. A child aged out of the foster care system, the family became a surrogate one to the future pharmacist. All was seemingly at ease once again and Aaron hoped that even when he finished school, he wouldn’t lose them or maybe he selfishly wanted something else that couldn’t be said aloud. Under the surface multiple things were bubbling.

Mark was not happy in their marriage anymore. He still loved Ethan and his son but he wasn’t sure that was enough to keep the marriage alive. They all had built a friendship with Aaron, so Mark thought he’d be the perfect one to confide in about the emergence of such turmoil in his heart.

Mark told Aaron one day about the fallout of love he was facing as Ethan worked a double at the hospital. The confession was a blindside to Aaron, but not for the reason you may think. Aaron loved them all dearly but he began gaining feelings for Ethan somewhere along the way. Could this be his chance to get the man he thought he wanted? No, surely that would ruin the relationships they’ve all built? Right? Almost like word vomit, Aaron released those inside thoughts aloud.

The silence between the two was deafening. The two stared at each other quietly for a few moments before Mark broke down crying. Aaron began inching closer to console his boss and close friend. As he sat close he began tearing up saying “I wish I could help you more in this moment. I love you guys so much and I love Billy he’s like a kid to me too at this point.”

Mark looked up and told the young man, “I’m so sorry that you’re having these feelings for Ethan and now you’re in the middle of our mess. I wish there would just be an easy way to end the sadness.” As the two wiped their tears, they agreed to not divulge anything to Ethan without the other one’s approval. In their respective homes, they both tossed and turned in bed, distraught over the days discoveries or so they thought. The world had other reasons to keep them tossing and turning. Aiming to add balance to their situation, the world had a solution and needed their souls to accomplish it.

A universal force aimed to add balance, ripping their souls from their bodies and placing them in each others corporal forms. When the switch was done, the two finally fell into sleep.

Mark woke up peacefully with no blaring crying from Billy. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened lately. Trusting muscle memory he made his way to the restroom eyes closed, bumping into a few things he didn’t recognize but also didn’t invest too much thought into. He fumbled into the restroom feeling a bit chilly, odd considering he went to sleep in a long sleeve pj top.

Oblivious to the situation, Mark’s new physique stood in a doorframe it did many times before unaware of its new operator. As Mark moved to drop his pants to pee, he wrapped his now muscled hand around an unfamiliar thick morning wood. The size difference forced his eyes to finally open as he looked down gasping from the foreign sight below him. Gone was his long sleeve, replaced by mounds and mounds of sexy rippling muscle. Pecs like mountains with sharply pointed nipples. Ridges of cobblestone abs leading towards a v-line that introduced a thick, dark, rod below, insanely larger that the one he’d used for decades.

Instead of beginning to pee, he motioned over to the mirror in the restroom with pants still down. In the reflection there stood a nearly nude Aaron. Instinct took over as his new hand almost began jerking back and forth comfortably on his new thick pole. Speeding up as he involuntarily began moaning then grunting. As his pace picked up he wasn’t used to the sheer force needed to keep this body satisfied and while stacked with muscle the lack of preparedness led to him bracing himself against a nearby wall.

Meanwhile, Marks’ new phone sat buzzing at the bedside of the bed. Across the city, Aaron panicked calling Mark after realizing the new situation he found himself in, literally. He panic called several times in a row unaware the Ethan entered the room behind him. Slipping his hands around Aaron’s waist, Ethan pulled him in. The shocked new inhabitant of his husband’s body turned around shocked at the pull, turning around to figure out what’s happening. As he turned his head, Ethan dominantly went in for a kiss. Unbeknownst to Ethan, Aaron initially panicked and moved to resist the kiss before melting into the moment.

He couldn’t resist. If this was a dream, he might as well live it up. Aaron disregarded who he looked like and played the role he always wanted to be. A doting loving husband. He used context clues and realized Mark wasn’t the most domineering of the two, but used a little initiative to motion to the bed. Ethan pulled him over as the continued to make out, Aaron’s new husband savagely ripped off the boxers he was wearing. Ethan pushed Aaron to bend over on the bed, ass up just like he liked it. It was a side of Ethan that Aaron never saw while babysitting Billy but he was savoring every single moment.

Aaron’s new husband romantically kissed him from behind again before having his head shoved onto the bed. A tongue quickly beginning to then explore his hole before a familiar to the body but foreign to Aaron sensation arrived. Ethan quickly entered before slowly rocking back out. That odd tempo was weird to understand at first before Aaron quickly accepted the pace and went with it.

Across the city, Mark was still enjoying his self-pleasure rodeo grunting and moaning as he pounded his new body’s meat. The vitality of a younger body was something he previously lost along the way of life but was thankful to have once again. This body knew its way in a gym clearly so what would’ve broken a sweat previously was like child’s play now. Stroking back and forth, Mark used his free hand to try and stimulate himself the way he used to, trying to explore his hole. His new body nearly protested itself. Way too tight, never seemingly been explored. A strict dom top? He should’ve known. That discovery almost erotic itself turning Mark on even more.

The universe seemingly playing its hand once again as both men on both sides of the city climaxing at the same time. Both independently relishing their new situations. Both getting what they wanted without the need to sacrifice seemingly anything?

Aaron turned to Ethan doting to him almost pleading with his eyes to go again. While Mark picked up a nearby shirt and made his way to a pre-school workout.

#identity theft #gay #male body swap #body swap #male body switch #male transformation

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seoulmatez · 4 months ago

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𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎

rin’s routine takes a turn when a stray cat inserts itself into the equation.

itoshi rin x reader ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ allusions to abandonment issues

There’s a cat that follows Rin on his walk home from practice.

The first time, he simply took notice. A small bundle of black fur seemed to curve at every turn he made, stopping every time he paused. Its light eyes almost glowed in the darkness accompanying dusk. And, as if the creature knew it was time to part ways, it didn’t bother following Rin to the door of his apartment.

The second time caught Rin by surprise. Did the stray remember him? The walk was much the same, Rin leading the way while the cat acted as his shadow. Maybe the man tricked himself into thinking so, but it felt like the cat met his eye every time he looked over his shoulder to check if it was in tow.

This time, Rin crouched down to pet it. His hand hovered tentatively over its head, waiting for some adverse reaction to his proximity—a hiss, or perhaps it would dart off. But it didn’t come. He gently scratched the cat’s head. It purred, leaning into his touch.

The days that followed were much the same—Rin’s initial surprise at his companion’s return, his hesitancy to reach out for fear of an unpleasant reaction, the short moment of comfort the both of them shared before Rin had to go inside. They grew on each other with each scheduled meeting. The cat began to walk closer—beside the man instead of behind him. Rin left a little earlier in the morning to pick up treats for his new friend.

Rin has lost track of how long this has been going on. What he has taken note of, though, is how the cat no longer lingers at the start of the pathway leading to his apartment—it has taken to joining him at the door.

Yours and Rin’s schedules don’t always align the best. It makes taking advantage of the days the both of you are free a given and today happens to be one of those days. It’s bright and early and with the bag of pastries you picked up in hand, you make your way to Rin’s apartment.

“Knock knock,” you verbalize in addition to tapping your knuckles against his door.

You only have to wait a moment before his voice sounds from the other side. “It’s open.”

With his invitation, you turn the doorknob and let yourself inside. As you kick off your shoes at the doorway, you catch sight of Rin lying on the couch. The piece of furniture isn’t quite long enough given his height, so his legs are propped up on the arm. It’s enough to make you chuckle under your breath. Rin doesn’t seem to mind you finding humor in the situation. He simply offers you a lazy wave and a, “Hey.”

“Good morning,” you greet him with a smile. You hold up the paper bag in your hand. “I brought breakfast.”

Rin hums in satisfaction before getting up to join you in the kitchen. You’re just about to set everything on the counter when something beats you to the spot. It’s black and furry and entirely unexpected—so much so that you flinch, clutching the bag to your chest. “Oh!”

You can hear Rin sigh behind you, though, when he appears beside you, he doesn’t look nearly as startled as you do. He picks up what you now realize is a cat from in front of you, holding it up in the air level with his face. “I told you, you’re not allowed on the counters.”

Two pairs of eyes—one aquamarine, the other a pale green—stare at each other in silence. Rin almost looks as if he’s expecting a response and he earns one in the form of an innocent meow.

Rin’s eyes narrow. “Stay off the counters.”

“When did you get a cat?” You suppose you should have noticed sooner. Now that you’re paying attention, there are signs all over the place—the food and water bowls placed on a mat that you walked past to get into the kitchen, the cat tower tucked away in the corner of the living room just a few feet away from the couch Rin was lounging on, there’s even a feather wand toy under the coffee table.

He finally puts the cat down on the floor. Despite being released, it doesn’t wander far. “Last week. She kept following me home.”

“Cute…” The thought of this darling trailing behind Rin during his commute is almost too adorable for you to handle. You kneel down to get a better look at her. She’s idly licking her fur like she’s grown bored of this conversation. You look up at Rin. “What’s her name?”

“She doesn’t have one.”

“Huh?” You stand up once more, frowning in confusion. “How do you get her attention then?”

He shrugs. “I don’t need to. She’s always nearby anyway.”

He doesn’t tell you that he’s pondered the idea of naming her but shied away. It’s better this way—not getting too attached and making things too real. Because if it’s real, that means she can leave him—cast him aside—too.

“She needs a name, Rin,” you tell him, finally setting down the bag from the bakery and pulling out its contents. You shoot him a smile. “We can come up with one while we eat.”

Movement from the corner of your eye catches your attention. Your gaze falls to the floor to find the cat rubbing against Rin’s leg.

Your smile widens. “See, she likes the idea.”

He’s still wary but he considers it for a moment, his stare never straying from your face. He reminds himself that you’re very real—standing right in front of him, close enough to touch. You’re real and you’ve stuck around. That should be all the evidence he needs.

“Fine,” Rin concedes.

He glances down at the cat he took in. Strangely enough, her presence since the start has had an impact on Rin, made him feel a little less lonely.

He supposes she deserves a name.

manon here ( ≧ᗜ≦) thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#scribbles ᝰ.ᐟ #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #rin x you #bllk x you #blue lock x you #rin fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #— blue lock.

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readychilledwine · 4 months ago

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can we have rhysand with an emotional reader again? maybe meetings made her feel unsupported

A Heavy Burden

Summary - After a long day of tense negotiations, Rhysand finds his wife wondering if this all was worth it.

Warnings - mental health, implied misunderstanding and communication, implied Azriel was illiterate fan theory, slight misogynistic thing when you consider the places reader was dealing with

A/n - Slowly but surely, you all are about to see the mass amount of things I have queued from old and new requests. All almost 48 and counting of them 🫠 2025 goals include getting better at getting to what is sent to me faster, along with finding a better system for requests so I'm maybe only working with 5 at a time instead of pressuring myself to put out requests instantly.

✨️Rhysand Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

The clanging of your crown in the marbled floor was the first thing that caught Rhysand's attention. The second was you sitting on the balcony in your dress, in the middle of a cold night, just being still. Today had been, for a lack of better terms, a nightmare.

Your proposal for remodeling the Illyrian camps had been met with conflict and comments regarding if you truly had power.

Your proposal for creating a shelter system for females and children in Hewn City was met with questions of your status and abilities.

Your family dinner at home hadn't even been safe from remarks from the Inner Circle that he knew had you questioning how they saw you.

He shouldn't have been surprised by you doing this by tossing the symbol of your power aside like it was nothing. Your ideas were frequently met with debate, tension, and sometimes, his advisors screaming like children at each other. As a test, you once had him present the idea you had for it. It had been met with excitment until the passing of the paprrs was signed and stamped by you.

You had a habit of smiling in the face of adversity. Taking a gentle approach instead of using the authority he had given you. You had become the kindness to his image of cruelty. A match many felt was odd but truly made by the Cauldron for balance. You shouldered it all well, but even you, his strong wife, had a breaking point.

Rhys moved with near silence to you, lowering himself behind you and knowing it was serious this time when you didn't make a joke over his knees popping. “Talk to me,” he murmured as he pulled you to him, wings appearing to wrap around you as if they were a shield.

You only sighed, chin resting on your knees, “I feel insufficient. I feel like no one believes in me. I feel like I'm just here as a glorified placeholder.”

Rhysand hummed, kissing the skin of your bare shoulder, “What about today do you feel made you feel that way?”

“How everything I purposed for the two areas begging the most for change was met. Illyria acknowledges that the camps are rundown. I purpose a cycle of upgrades, funded by us, by the way, that would allow the camps to be safer, warmer, and have more resources. I am told I don't understand Illyrians and what the camps need despite my plans being based on the needs given to Cassian and I.”

You took a breath, eyes shutting to relax and fight tears before continuing. “When we then spend the second portion of our day in Hewn City. I am addressing the so-called concern for female and children resources. It is meant with your uncle screaming at a more forward moving male that I'm powerless. I have no clue what females need, which is odd since I am one. Then, lastly, my proposals do not matter.”

Rhys nodded, nose buried in your hair to calm himself at the memory of everything, “Then we come home and instead of being met with support-”

“Our family tells me I need to take my heart out of things and start acting like a ruthless High Lord and stop offering mercy. That that is the only way fae will ever actually respect me."

“Thus attacking your character when you were already in a fragile state and needing support instead of, well, we will call it constructive criticism, though, I know it did not feel that way.” His voice was soft in your ear, offering that comfort you had been seeking. “And, y/n, your heart does not need to be taken out of the conversation. Your heart is why I pursued you. It's why we are married. Why I didn't care a mating bond had landed into place yet. Your heart chose me. It is precious to me. It belongs in the decisions we, as High Lord and Lady, make.”

Another soft kiss was placed on your shoulder. Then the nape of your neck, pressing in as if he could make every nerve in your body calm down with just the strength of his love. “I will handle Azriel and Amren,” he assured you. “Though, I do suspect Azriel realized his comment came across much harsher than intended.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, “He's 538 years old. He's been with you all and consistently speaking and socializing for over 525 years. He shouldn't continue to be coddled for his childhood illiteracy and lack of social understanding, especially when we hold a barely 21 year old Feyre to higher standards.”

You felt his shift, the deep sigh as his forehead touched the back of your neck, “He doesn't mean to be harsh with you. Please consider what he does for a living, who he is normally dealing with.”

You nodded, “But he also needs to consider time and place then.”

“He knows, trust me.” You did chuckle at that, knowing your husband was more than likely being yelled at for access to you. His calloused hand moved into the dip of your dress, stopping once it rested over your heartbeat. “This is the most beautiful thing in my world. The most important thing.” He subconsciously synced his breathing to yours, only content once the two of you were in harmony. “I know a heart can be a heavy burden, darling. I know it seems easier to shut it out right now. I know it feels like you should become more cold. I know you're hurting.”

The tears began then. Your thumb moving to wipe them away, “I just feel wearing my heart on my sleeve is counterproductive to what the Court needs-”

“The court needs more of it, actually,” he immediately stopped you, knowing where this was going. “The court as a whole needs more care and heart, Y/n. Change begins when one person cares enough to push for it, and even the smallest stone will make ripples. You have inspired me to take better control of Illyria and Hewn City. You have inspired countless in Velaris to work to help the Court's lower income families. You have inspired my heart, my darling.”

He pulled you impossibly closer, “Be glad of your big heart, y/n. Pity those who don't feel anything at all." One last soft kiss touched the back of your neck. “Come bathe with me. Let's wash today away.”

The idea had your body already relaxing as he stood, knees popping again. “Old ass male.” And there it was. A sign of you. A sign you would be okay. A sign you would fight.

“Cruel little thing,” he purred back. “Mocking my war injuries.” He pulled you up before a tendril of darkness and starlight handed him your crown. “Put this back on. You dropped it.”

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons #acotar #acotar x reader #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhys x you #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhys x y/n #acotar x you #rhysand fanfiction

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himasgod · 4 months ago

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Morax x Reader

Where your soulmark will unite you to him forever and ever, but you cannot be with him.

Where Guizhong, in her infatuation with Morax, casts a spell on him to make him forget his soulmark that binds you, an adepti, to him, and he falls in love with Guizhong. Years later, when Guizhong dies, Morax takes importance to you and tries to get back to you, but you, hurt, reject him and forget him. Many centuries later, Xiao, Traveler and Paimon have a single mission during the Moonchase Festival: to reunite you and Zhongli after so long.

(chat, did I cook? Seriously, this might be my favorite thing I've ever written on Tumblr. Around 900 words, give it a chance, I promise it'll be worth it :P)

In Teyvat, Soulmate Marks were more than just marks on the skin; they were a shared destiny, a divine promise that no matter the adversities, two souls were destined to meet and complete each other. To mortals, it was a comfort. To gods, it was a reminder that even they were bound by the universal laws of love.

Guizhong, the Goddess of Dust, had always been a visionary. Her intelligence and charisma had cemented Guili Assembly as a haven of prosperity and harmony. But deep within her heart was a desperate longing: to win the heart of the Geo Archon, Morax. Ever since she met him, she had been convinced that her place was at his side, not just as an ally, but as his eternal companion.

When her soulmate mark appeared, Guizhong held her breath in hope.

But her mark showed no clue that connected her to Morax.

Rather than accept this fate, her ambition and fear of rejection led her to commit an act that would change the course of both their lives: with a spell of illusions, she altered her mark to match his.

“Love is selfish… and it must be. For the sake of the Guili Assembly, for the sake of our vision, he must be mine,” she told herself every time the weight of guilt threatened to crush her.

Meanwhile, Morax’s true destiny was entangled with another adepti: you. You were a noble soul, whose mark reflected a deep connection to the land itself. Though Morax had never paid much attention to his own mark, the relationship between the two of you had been one of mutual respect. You, dedicated to the creation of medicines and the healing of Yakshas tormented by their karmic debt, had shared meaningful moments with Morax. Yet there had never been a declaration of love between you.

Morax's heart always seemed to be occupied by Guizhong.

You, though wounded, had accepted your silent role. If Morax found happiness with Guizhong, then that was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

Guizhong's death was a devastating blow to the Guili Assembly and, apparently, to Morax. For years, the Geo Archon mourned her loss, immortalizing her memory in the ruins of Guili. But deception cannot remain hidden forever. As time passed, the spell that had altered Moraxs mark dissipated, revealing its true form.

When Morax discovered the truth, an unfathomable rage took hold of him. Not only had he been betrayed, but he had also allowed his true soulmate to suffer in silence while he protected Guizhong's lie. In a fit of grief and disappointment, he erased from his memory any vestige of love he had felt for the Goddess of Dust.

But the truth came at a price: how to face you after so many years of indifference?

You had found solace in your work. Alongside the Herblord, you had dedicated your life to creating remedies to ease the burden of the Yakshas and other Adepti. You had left behind any hope of a relationship with Morax. For him, there was no room in his heart for false gestures or empty words.

When Morax finally found you, he was greeted with a coldness he had never expected.

“What do you wish, Morax?” you asked, not looking up from the herbs you were grinding.

“I have come to apologize. To seek… redemption,” he replied, his voice laden with a sincerity he rarely showed.

“Redemption does not change the past. And your words will not erase the years of silence. Go find solace in Guizhong’s memories… or in your own decisions.—"

The conversation ended as quickly as it had begun, leaving Morax with a weight he hadn’t felt in millennia.

The Moonchase Festival filled Liyue with vibrant energy. The streets were adorned with floating lanterns, tables laden with traditional food, and the laughter of children echoed in the air. It was a celebration of togetherness, of remembering the past and looking toward the future. Among the attendees, the Traveler and Paimon moved with determination, knowing that the success of their plan depended on their discretion.

They had to bring you and Zhongli together after so many years again, and today was the perfect opportunity.

Xiao, who rarely participated in festivities, stood at the edge of the crowd, watchful. He had reluctantly agreed to help, aware of how much it meant to him to see Zhongli and you reconcile. Though his face remained impassive, the Yaksha couldn’t help but feel a certain hope. He had lost so much over the years; perhaps it was time to recover something.

The Traveler was in charge of taking Zhongli to the designated place: a secluded viewing point at the port, from where one could observe the spectacle of the lanterns ascending- so romantic.

Xiao, meanwhile, was accompanying you, who had accepted the invitation to the festival at the Herbalist's insistence, unaware that it was all part of an elaborate plan.

When the two reached the viewing platform, the atmosphere instantly became tense. You, recognizing Zhongli, stopped in your tracks and pressed your lips together. The ancient Geo Archon, for his part, showed a mix of surprise and something that seemed vulnerable, an emotion rare in someone like him.

"I… didn't know you'd be here," you murmured, your tone bordering on indifference.

"It was my initiative," the Traveler quickly intervened, trying to ease the tension. "I thought it would be good for both of you to enjoy the festival from a quiet place."

"Calm down?" you raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but I don't think it's wise."

Before you could leave, Zhongli spoke:

"Please stay."

The tone of his voice, deep and solemn, managed to stop you. There was something in it, a sincerity that you hadn’t expected.

For long minutes, you both remained silent, watching the lanterns light up the sky. Finally, Zhongli spoke up:

“A long time ago, I was blinded by my own decisions. I allowed my judgment to be clouded by loyalty and duty, and in that process, I hurt those who mattered most. You. And my mark is binding me to you, it burns every time I think of you, and it has all these years. I know it burns you too. Guizhong moved me with her manipulative fingers, but now that she passed away so many years ago that I can't even count them… the truth of her lies has come to light. And I feel stupid…”

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you turned to look directly at him, your eyes reflecting years of repressed pain.

“And what do you expect me to say? To forgive you after everything?”

Your tone was cold, but there was a tremor in your voice that betrayed the internal storm you were struggling to control. “After how you ignored everything I did for you, while defending someone who wasn’t even your soulmate?”

Zhongli looked down, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"I don't expect your forgiveness. I only hope that you'll allow me to prove that I've changed. That you'll understand how sorry I am for my blindness."

You let out a bitter laugh.

"You changed? Perhaps. But I changed too, Morax. Or I mean, Zhongli, I guess. Centuries don't pass in vain, and the wounds you left behind didn't heal easily. I'm not the same person who used to wait for you with hope. I'm now someone who learned to live without you, with this mark, but without you."

The silence that followed was heavy, but not hopeless. Zhongli, with his infinite patience, nodded slowly.

"I know. I can't pretend to erase the past or what I did. But I want you to know that I will never stop trying to make up for my mistakes. If you ever decide to give me a chance, I'll be here, waiting."

You looked at him for a long moment. There was something different about him; he was no longer the arrogant god who made unilateral decisions. There was humility in his words, a humanity you hadn't seen before.

“I make no promises, Zhongli,” you finally replied, your voice softer.

“But perhaps one day… we can try.”

Zhongli looked up, and for the first time in centuries, a small spark of hope lit up his eyes.

That night, though you were not completely reconciled, something changed between you. As the Moonchase Festival continued in the distance, Zhongli and you remained at the gazebo, sharing a quieter conversation. There were no promises, only a tacit understanding that time, though cruel, could also offer second chances.

From afar, Xiao, Traveler and Paimon watched the scene, Xiao's heart lightened.

Though he knew the road would be long, at least there was a start now.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

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fairuzfan · 1 year ago

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"In any conversation with recently released prisoners from the West Bank, the conversation inevitably drifts to the horrific conditions that Israel has imposed on Palestinian prisoners. The deprivation of food and medicine, the routine beatings, the isolation of individual prisoners, the overcrowded cells, and the severed lines of communication with the outside world—all unfold in their stories. The rhythm of the conversations are fast, a need to speak and utter the drastic conditions, to make sense of the non-sensible and the horrific.

However, a heavy silence descends as some begin to speak of the sounds of their fellow prisoners from Gaza. The prison not only segregates by bars and walls but also divides by geography, by unseen yet palpably strict borders within its confines (Gazan there, West Bankers here). Those from Gaza are forced into degradation, made to bark, their screams of pain from being shackled and beaten piercing the thick air, compelled to sing Israel's national anthem, to shout "Am Yisrael Hai" in a mockery of their agony and identity. Sound becomes the solitary channel through which prisoners from diverse geographies perceive each other's existence, not through words exchanged after years of enforced separation between Gaza and the West Bank, but through the harrowing echoes of torture's heavy breaths.

The released prisoners from the West Bank descend into silence—a wounded, weighty, and shamed silence, burdened by the knowledge that their suffering, though severe, paled in comparison to that of their fellow prisoners from Gaza, leaving them traumatized by both their own experiences and the agony they could only hear. A trauma that is not traumatic enough.

We can scarcely fathom what Dr. Adnan Al-Bursh, a healer, a devoted doctor and surgeon—a man who steadfastly refused to abandon his patients—endured until his body could withstand no more. Alongside his fellow doctors in Gaza, he epitomized a profound dedication to his role and to his society, embodying the very essence of commitment in the face of unimaginable adversity, a doctor that we will remember through one sound only, the sound of his joy of saving another soul."

#palestine

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myerssimp21 · 1 year ago

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Tim Drake, Aphrodisiac Victim (YAN!Pt.1)

Romantic!Yandere!Batfam x fem reader. Part 1 Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

It’s easy for him to excuse it, easy for Tim Drake to pretend like he hadn’t intentionally fumbled the latest conflict with Poison Ivy. He could have done more to stop her, but when he discovered her plan and spent days pouring over the ingredients in her new concoction, the holistic quality of her potion calmed his nerves and quieted the anxious parts of him that screamed he would get caught. Ivy was known for several atrocities in Gotham, but she didn’t usually act as aggressively as Scarecrow or Joker with her toxins.

So when Tim Drake definitively concluded her newest potion wouldn’t have any adverse health effects, he was slower than he should have been when she whipped out the perfume bottle and sprayed it at him.

He’d been expecting this; what he hadn’t expected was Bruce yanking him backwards in an attempt to save him from the mist. The Batclaw shot out, aiming for the bottle in her hands but failing to retrieve it halfway through the delivery, the glass shattering on the ground and splashing all over the Bat and Tim Drake.

There had been dizzying action, and then only silence for a moment. Ivy had a shit-eating smile creeping onto her face as she began backing away, keeping her eyes on the two men trying to catch their breath.

“Gentlemen, it looks like you have the night off,” she said with a giggle as she continued to retreat, eyeing her escape route, “maybe make plans?”

“Pamela,” The Bat growls in a dark tone, his anger barely contained over how their mission had gone so wrong, “Give me the antidote.”

She turns to run away and he lunges forward to grab her before his knees buckle under him and he collapses to the ground, catching his balance and hearing her scurry off.

“Batman,” Tim says, feeling the weight of consequences of his actions as he feels his crotch begin tingling, “she doesn’t have one. I checked.”

The silence is palpable as Bruce evens out his breathing and pushes off the ground, using a nearby wall to steady himself, “We need to get to the Batmobile before it sets in.”

Tim shudders as Bruce places a giant hand on his shoulder, concerned both at how hard the big man is taking the dose and at how good the physical contact feels in this state. He hopes Bruce doesn’t feel pleasure at the slightest touch like he does; he’s frustrated since it was supposed to be just him.

Tim Drake was supposed to receive an accidental dose of Ivy’s new aphrodisiac. Tim Drake was supposed to stop by their darling’s apartment afterwards to relieve the strain in his crotch and the desire in his heart. It was supposed to be the best porno he’d ever see; getting the best angles for the cameras discreetly set up at her place earlier that month to rewatch later.

He knew Bruce was smart and Tim only hoped to earn forgiveness for this by making the best home film with you. He also knew Dick, Jason, and Damian would be grouchy he’d gotten to you first and it was entirely possible he’d get just decimated by your lack of interest altogether. Even though you and Tim had become close over the past couple semesters, he could tell you were reserved at times, just anxious or uneasy enough to pull away before anything with lasting complications happened.

The Batmobile had an autopilot feature which Bruce immediately enacted, setting a course for the Batcave. Wordlessly, Tim adds their darling’s apartment complex in as a stop, trying to not get shaky at the thought of getting laid in this state. It’s so easy to add it; all he has to do is press it from the list of saved priority locations in the portal.

“I had my suspicions,�� Batman murmurs as he closes his eyes and lays against the headrest, trying to control the sensations in his body, “you wouldn’t have gotten sprayed at that range unless you wanted to.”

Tim says it before he can think in misplaced irritation, “Then why’d you get in the way?”

It’s embarrassing the moment he says it and Bruce says nothing in response, letting the silence sour in the air to make a point.

“What are you going to do?” Tim asks him, too aware of the growing urge to sink his dick into a warm, wet hole. The urge is going to be hard to wrangle enough to talk to her, let alone look normal enough to seem like a regular hook-up.

“I’ll manage,” is all Bruce says, and Tim hopes that means he’ll call Catwoman as soon as he leaves; he suddenly doesn’t like the idea of everyone tuning in at once to the live camera feeds as he tries his hand at seducing you. It feels like lots of pressure, and while Tim Drake is usually phenomenal at working under pressure, he doesn’t want to get rejected in 4k.

Bruce grips the steering wheel tight when the tingles begin in his crotch, trying to distract himself, “I have a change of clothes under your seat. Change before we get to her place.”

Bruce makes the call while he can, letting Damian know he and Tim were not going to be able to finish their patrol shift. Damian sounds unimpressed when he asks why and Bruce doesn’t answer him, hanging up.

Bruce goes to voicemail when he calls Jason, and his jaw clenches in irritation. He knows Jason holds more resentment towards him and might murder some criminals if made to do patrol on a night he’s supposed to have off, but Bruce can’t let Damian do patrol alone in the big city yet. He’s also a little concerned that Jason might murder Tim if he hears him with you, so getting him out on patrol is better for everyone.

After calling Jason two more times, Bruce gives up and calls Damian back, telling him he’d send Grayson over. Ever efficient, Damian is already dressed as Robin on the Batmobile’s call screen, his eyes narrowing in his domino mask.

"Father, your demeanor suggests trouble. What went wrong with Drake during the patrol?"

"It's nothing, Damian. Just a minor setback. We handled it."

"Minor setbacks don't usually disrupt patrol schedules. What are you hiding, Father?"

"I'll be back tomorrow morning," Bruce says, ignoring Damian's rude interrogation, "Make sure to stop by the GCPD to follow up with Jack Ryder on-" Bruce's voice falters as he struggles to remember what the story is; his crotch begins throbbing uncomfortably and he feels like the heat is spreading up his torso with each beat of his heart.

"On those cryptic messages left in the GCPD mailbox," Tim finishes for Bruce, leaning in to fit in the camera lens so Damian can see him too. Damian rolls his eyes.

"Your knack for evasion is quite the talent, Father. Maybe it's worth pondering why you choose partners if transparency isn't part of the deal."

With this scathingly cold delivery, Damian ends the call on a sour note. Tim would check with Bruce but their darling lives on the street they just turned down and his heartbeat has begun violently thudding in his chest and in his dick.

"Tim," Batman says firmly before Tim leaves the Batmobile, "stay in control. Scaring her off is not an option."

Tim's trying to not be sensitive about it because after all, it makes sense; if he comes off too strong and scares her, not only is he fucked immediately with Ivy's aphrodisiac coursing through his veins, but he will complicate things for the whole Wayne family. The other part of him, the part being drugged by Ivy's potion wants to whine in protest. How is he supposed to exercise control!? He'd never force himself on her but he doesn't doubt he might pass out if he doesn't find relief soon. As he exits the Batmobile with her apartment building in front of him, he just prays Jason is asleep and doesn't cockblock him.

You weren’t asleep yet. At 10 PM, you were drawing in bed, pausing at different parts in the pornographic video you were watching to practice drawing bodies. You couldn’t deny this way of practicing wasn’t tempting you to turn the lights off and rub one out with one of your vibrators though. They were recently charged, after all.

Not wanting to stop drawing quite yet but wanting the desire to build, you turn up the volume of the tv and make an effort to not pause as much. It felt good to feel a building arousal in your body and know you could use your toy as many times as you liked. It had already been about twenty minutes of you rotating out on your favorite pornography and hentai tags, working your brain up to arousal under the guise of practicing art. It honestly didn’t take much to get you feeling hot; growing sexual tension in your personal life made it easy to tap into. Maybe it was just that it never left your mind in the first place, and your mind wandered as your fingers snuck under the waistband of your shorts.

You thought of the recent weird vibes between you and Tim, the boy in your humanities course you sat near who was also in your social work course. You’d exchanged numbers early in the semester and at this point you’d met up for study sessions more than once. He’d always been a little flirtatious but you thought he was joking until he had leaned in the other day, hand finding purchase on your thigh as he murmured, “you drive me crazy, you know that?”

It was so generic you would have chuckled or rolled your eyes but the way he said it made goosebumps raise on your skin instead. His eyes were locked on yours and the sober intensity in them was not something you had prepared for, leaning away from him in sudden awkwardness even when you felt your cheeks burning.

Still, the thought of how he looked at you made you shudder when your finger brushed against your clit and your mind raced on.

Then there was your next-door neighbor, Jason. Tall and broad-shouldered, there's a casual confidence in the way he moves. His piercing blue eyes seem to twinkle with amusement whenever you shyly chat with him, like he's in on some secret joke. The black cat always at his heels chirps happily on his little patio table when you two chat, purring loudly and head-butting Jason at any given opportunity. Always, Jason makes his appearance shirtless, his eyes laughing louder at you every time you feel your face flush when he says something questionably flirtatious towards you. It's one thing to playfully flirt, but to do so while ripped and shirtless? How was your ability to articulate yourself around him supposed to have a chance?

You try not to look and act unflustered every time, but once your eyes lingered and you noticed scar tissue all over his torso, unable to tear yourself away from the sight. You'd apologized when he jokingly said you'd better take a picture, since you didn't want to seem rude checking out his scars and felt silly for getting caught staring.

"They come with a price, always," Jason remarked cryptically, suddenly making intense eye contact.

"Your scars?" You asked, afraid to say the wrong thing due to your social anxieties but leaning towards him from your bannister.

"No, my pictures" he replied with a smirk, his eyes twinkling mischievously while Alfred the cat chirped at his ankles again. Jason leaned across his bannister too, "But I've always believed in getting to know my neighbors. I think you and I could take that to a whole new level, don't you?"

"I-I think... that could be...nice," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Getting to know you better, I mean." You had looked away while trying to choke out these words, gathering your courage before meeting his gaze again. "I'm curious about you.. So maybe we could... explore each other sometime."

His eyes widened, his expression betraying a hint of genuine disbelief. A faint blush quickly dusted his cheeks, mirroring the warmth you felt spreading through you at his suggestion.

"Wow," he said, his voice laced with surprise and breathier than normal, "I wasn't expecting that, but... I like where you're going with this." The tone of admiration had given you chills at the time, praise kink activating at the new way he was regarding you. "I’m curious about you too, you know. Let's see just how close we can really get."

His reaction left you feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, but you couldn't help but smile at his response. You hadn't seen him since then, a couple days ago, and you hoped your conversation would amount to something delicious one day if it was meant to be.

As you reminisced about Tim's intense words and Jason's forward suggestions, your fingers gravitated towards your clit, applying firm pressure as they glided up and down your labia before slowly easing into your pussy. You opted for two fingers, relishing the sensation of fullness they provided compared to just one. They pressed deeply inside you, and you squeezed around them exploratively, reveling in the feeling.

After relishing the fullness of your fingers, you pumped them a few times, a low moan escaping your lips at the intense sensation. Your eyes scrunched shut tightly as you imagined Tim's hand from the other day—how it had come to rest on your thigh, the way it had firmly gripped at you, igniting a desire to jump at the touch.

You visualized him inching closer to the point of no return, sliding his hand into your underwear, and letting his fingers work their magic right there as you both sat with your homework in front of you. Just moments ago, you would have been innocently reviewing new terms together, but then the thought of his touch would be obscenely irresistible. You pictured yourself moving your hips, eagerly responding to his touch and allowing yourself to make all the noises you had always been too nervous to make with others. You imagined he'd get antsy to fuck you after hearing the squelching of your pussy on his fingers. In your mind's eye, he would just barely find the self-control to pull his cock out from his pants before burying his length desperately as far deep as it could go in you.

As you finally reached for the vibrators kept next to the bed, the abrupt sound of knocking at the door shattered your session. Startled, you jumped up, hastily yanking your shorts back up and rushing to wash your hands.

With no peephole on your apartment door, you felt a twinge of unease as you hurried to answer it. When you pulled the door open, the sight of Tim standing there caught you off guard.

"Hey... uh, sorry to just show up unannounced like this," Tim begins, his voice slightly breathless. "I, uh, I needed to talk to you about something important."

He shifts uncomfortably, trying to suppress the nervous energy coursing through him. "I know it's kind of out of the blue, but... can I come in? It won't take long, I promise."

Tim's words come out rushed, his cheeks flushed with a mix of urgency and embarrassment, as he struggles to maintain his composure despite the powerful effects of the aphrodisiac coursing through his veins.

Without hesitating, you step aside, allowing Tim to enter. His presence saturates the room, bringing with it an air of tension and anticipation.

"Tim, what's going on? Are you okay?" you asked, your voice tinged with concern and uncertainty as you closed and locked the door behind him.

His eyes met yours with an intensity that made your heart beat just a little faster, unsure of what he was going to tell you.

"I couldn't stop thinking about what I said the other day," Tim began, his words coming out in a rush. "About how you drive me crazy. I... I don't know how to explain it but I felt like I had to come see you."

His confession hung in the air, heavy with emotion and unspoken arousal.

As he stood before you, his usually composed demeanor was replaced by an air of dishevelment. His hair was messier, and his clothes weren't neat like usual. There was a manic energy in his expression, a hint of desperation that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Tim, you seem... different tonight," you remarked cautiously, noting the wild look in his eyes.

"I couldn't wait any longer," he confessed, his voice emotional, "I needed to see you. I needed to be with you tonight more than anything."

The intensity of his gaze sent your heart racing, a sense of unease creeping over you as you began to comprehend the depth of his interest. Despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of something akin to surrender. You longed for him to desire you so intensely that he couldn't wait for a more appropriate time, practically begging you to spend a night with him like a lost puppy.

As Tim stood before you, his agitation evident in every movement, you couldn't ignore the tension in the air. Your gaze inadvertently dropped to the now noticeable bulge in his pants and you're captivated by it, unwilling to look away. You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the undeniable evidence of his desire.

"Can you... touch me?" Tim's voice trembled with urgency as he made the request, his tone surprisingly gentle despite the underlying intensity. "You can set the pace, do anything you want, just... please, do something," he added, his words carrying a fervent plea while leaving the decision entirely in your hands.

The tension was thick but you couldn't say you were really surprised at this admission of interest. Regarding the boy in front of you, you pondered the consequences this could lead to. As far as you knew, Tim wasn't a frat boy or someone who could make your life annoying with spreading rumors about the type of girl you were at school. He'd only ever been considerate, kind, and genuine. No girlfriend that you knew of, and he'd definitely be the kind of guy who gushed about his partner if he had one, so you wouldn't be any sort of homewrecker. He always helped you with your homework, to a point where you barely needed to do anything but the minimum whenever he got involved in any of your projects or assignments. This in mind, you decided he deserved a reward.

Leaning in towards him, you place your hands against his cheeks to cup his face. His eyes are wide, the pupils dilated. You thought you heard somewhere that meant someone was in love. Staring into those blown pupils with a mixture of curiosity and arousal, you drew closer.

"Can I kiss you?" You whisper and he nods before you can even get the question out. You kiss him, noticing he seems to freeze up for a moment before kissing you back, pressing against your mouth harder. His tongue swipes against you, but before you let yourselves go any further, you pull away.

"Before things escalate, can we agree to keep it casual, keep us casual? I like what we have."

He seems so antsy, almost breathless, "Absolutely, yeah. I'm all in. No pressure."

Doubting his sincerity since he seems so gone off of whatever is happening to him, you hesitate, "Tim, I'm serious. I don't want you to agree just because of the moment or you're high."

You're staring into those dilated eyes of his in the beat of silence that follows, hoping he's really listening to you.

He looks back into your eyes, the frenzied look a little more under control. "I hear you, I'm on the same page. Friends-with-benefits, I'd love that." Notably, he doesn't deny the speculation of being high.

Nodding at the more clear communication, you went back in for the kiss, now letting his tongue enter and explore your mouth. After getting more clarity from him, you feel less tense and relax into his kiss, feeling his hand come up to touch at your hair as he takes more control of it.

Dropping to your knees when the kiss breathlessly ends, you kiss at his clothed bulge, pawing at it with a hand. Your eyes are fixated on the stricken Tim Drake above you, and he watches in awe as you deeply inhale. You can smell him through his pants and nuzzle your cheek against the bump in them.

Slowly pulling at the drawstring of his sweatpants, your fingers hook on the band and you pull them down till they're bunched at his ankles, hardly taking a breather from your kisses.

"Oh, god," he moans in a strangled voice, "You're so pretty down there."

His praise makes your cheeks begin to burn and your movements get a little more self-conscious, feeling marveled at. Moving your mouth against his bulge in his boxers, you find where the tip should be and roughly suck at it through his underwear. His body shudders, one of his hands fingering through your hair and grabbing it firmly and he hisses, "Play nice."

Feeling good about this now, you moan into his bulge at the choked tone you caused him, pulling his boxers down and kissing on his penis directly now. Lifting it, you craned underneath and kissed at his balls, licking a long strip up from them to the tip and swirling your tongue around his hole at the top. A loud moan tore through Tim and you felt him push his pelvis towards you more, the tip of his penis in your mouth beginning to inch further.

Graciously, you accept his bid, widening your mouth to swallow him completely when he pushes in. He's not terribly big but it's still a little hard to fit him in, the longer length causing it to bump into the back of your throat. He doesn't taste bad considering your previous experiences with oral. It was musty and damp like he'd just worked out, but the faint scent of soap and the neat pubes your nose was buried in told you his hygiene wasn't terrible.

Swirling your tongue with the movement, you experimentally go down on him to gauge his reaction. He moans loudly again and the sound is beautiful to you, doing it again in the hopes he moans nicely again. He does and you fixate your gaze up at him as you take his cock deeply again and his face betrayed how flustered he was, with his cheeks flushed and the look of a madman about him.

He's watching you like he adores you and when you make eye contact, his hips buck into your mouth and he whines, "I knew you'd be gorgeous swallowing my cock, you're taking it so well."

You look up at him in curiosity, so he thought about you like that? He'd pictured this?

"Fuck, I knew it. I knew you'd look beautiful on your knees."

You sense his thighs trembling and your hands come up to press against them, mouth obediently swallowing his cock.

"Oh," he chokes and roughly thrusts deeply, "I'm cumming- it's coming, swallow it all!"

He looks back down at you and then it comes as he moans loudly and crouches to push his cock as far as it will go down your throat, the overwhelming cumshot from the throbbing penis in between your lips threatening to spill out of your mouth. You always hated swallowing cum, and the hot orgasm spurting into your mouth is no exception. You feel your gag reflex threatening to make this night nightmarish but then it ebbs away as you focus on the fact the flow of cum is slowing down, on the fact this particular sensation will go away soon.

You can't lie he sounds and looks delicious otherwise, your eyes focusing on his flustered face that looks almost entirely delirious now. He's sweaty but the handsome face almost glows with liveliness, cheeks flushed and jawline trembling with emotion.

Gently, you slide his penis out of your mouth, sucking any remaining cum or spit off until you get to the tip, lightly swirling your tongue against his hole. When you finally pop off, his hand cups your cheek and he promptly drops to his knees, passionately grabbing your face and kissing you. His tongue wriggles into your mouth and you're surprised he's tongue-kissing you with the flavor of his cum fresh in your mouth still. One of his hands hungrily comes up to knead at your tit and you whimper as he harshly pinches on the end of it. Then he's pulled away from the kiss but his body is beginning to overwhelm you, crawling on top of you as you fall back onto your butt with your legs in front.

"Let me have you," he pleads, and you feel his penis is hard again and prodding against your thigh, "Please let me have you right now."

You wouldn't have preferred doing it mere feet away from your front door, especially since the crack under the door was a couple centimeters wide and anyone in the hall could probably hear you without effort, but the wild look in his eyes and the famished way he pulled at both your tits now made you want to indulge in such an animalistic fucking. Something was hot about the desperate way he looked, something enticing about the frenzied approach. You'd never seen this side of him, and the consequences of indulging with him in such a degrading way was far from your mind when his head dipped down and he tugged at the hem of your shirt. Helping him take off your shirt by lifting your arms, he wasted no time in shoving his face in your cleavage, nipping at the top of your breasts with his teeth.

Yelping at the surprising and slightly painful sensation, your hands come up to grip at his hair and he lays large wet kisses against your breasts, sucking at the skin there. You know he's gunning for hickeys and you whimper when he alternates between open-mouthed kisses and biting, arching and pressing your breasts further towards him.

His mouth pops off of them and he leans in, head over your shoulder as he fidgets with your bra clasp behind you. You turn your head as he fiddles with it and bury your face into his neck, inhaling deeply before kissing at it. He smells faintly of laundry detergent, but there's sweat and a slightly sweeter smell lingering on him, the sweeter smell hanging heavily in your nostrils and seemingly dripping at the back of your throat. It makes your head buzz a little and you pull away in a daze when he fails to unclasp your bra, your tits popping out of the thing when he pulls it down in frustration.

"What cologne do you wear?" You ask without really wanting to know right now, feeling your head spin after smelling at his neck.

"I'm not," he gasps, squeezing and pinching at your nipples freely now, and you throw your head back with a moan when he attaches at them with his mouth. He uses his tongue and teeth to alternate between nibbling and flicking at them with his tongue, paying attention to each side as he can. His penis is excitedly bumping against your thigh in his boxers and you kick your shorts off, groping at his bulge.

"Please," he says with need when he takes a break from your tits, and his hand now fumbles at his boxers. You see him pull his cock out from the hole in them and understand what he wants when he slides your panties aside, not bothering to remove them. His dick prods at you and his hips slowly move around, trying to find your entrance. Aroused and excited to feel him enter, you reach down to guide him in.

Then, you remember.

Groaning in annoyance, you gently begin pushing him off of you, "Tim, we have to use a condom. They're in my room."

He finally pulls off your tits with enough of your pushing, and he looks at you like he doesn't understand, a rabid look glinting in his eyes.

You smile, trying to make the best of it, "C'mon, it'll be more comfortable for us on the bed anyways."

Standing and realizing you feel uncharacteristically light-headed, you unsteadily make your way to your bedroom, feeling him grip at your hips while he follows. You apologize for the pornography still loudly streaming from your TV as you make your way to your dresser to get a condom, and his eyes quickly become glued to the visual stimulation, mouth opened slightly as he stared.

"Keep it on," he instructs when he notices you reach for the TV remote, "Keep it on and get over here."

You approach the bed where he sits on the end, and he opens the wrapper and pulls his boxers down to reveal his penis, hastily rolling the condom onto his length. The sensation of doing so seems to be much more stimulating to him than you thought it would, and he moans and whimpers as he pulls it all the way down. Once it's on, he grabs forward at your waist and yanks you down onto him, your breasts smashing against his face as you fall onto him. He's strong and you're letting him pull you around, straddling his lap and looking down at the needy man.

"Here," you say, reaching past him to grab your pillow and tuck it under his head, "There you go."

You smile down at him sweetly and he smiles back, kneading at your ass as you sit atop him. Leaning down to kiss him, you use a hand to reach down and guide his penis against your entry, pulling it to rub it up and down against you. His tip collects your aroused wetness and the movement become slippery as it slides with your lubrication. Just when you can tell he's getting antsy and about to whine, you guide it until you feel it at the tip of your entrance. Slowly, you sink down onto it and his grip on your ass tightens until it's almost painful.

"Oh," He moans, deeply affected. His hips are still as you let him slowly penetrate you until you're full with him and there's no more room in you to sink down further, "Oh, god, you feel so good."

"How do I feel?" You ask in curiosity, looking at him as he seems dazed with the sensation of your pussy. A sudden thrust upwards into you makes you yelp, his hard penis harshly bumping against your cervix. His eyes are closed as he collects his words.

"You're so warm and fluttering around me," he says, and it's true. You feel yourself squeezing at him at the sight of him, his relief evident, "I've never felt so good; it's like you were meant to have me buried in you."

His words are spoken with conviction, and you're processing it all when he thrusts again. It still hurts, but less now. Your head is spinning, but you catch onto his new rhythm and begin lifting your hips up, forcefully pushing them down on him in time with his thrusts.

Pained but aroused moans spilling from your lips in time with each thrust, you realize your tits are bouncing around in his face with your fucking, swinging around wildly. His grip on your hips tightens impossibly and you see his biceps flex madly when his muscles take over, overriding your own rhythm and violently making you meet his thrusts. The moans from his own mouth gets louder until they're louder than yours, his pace quickening at the sight of your expression above him. You look fucked out and in pain and he relishes in it, knowing the sound of skin slapping against skin is his own doing. He grits his teeth and pulls you all the way down on his length like you were when you got on top at first, shooting his orgasm into the condom but envisioning it shooting straight into your womb.

You hiss in some pain at this large and painful thrust, moaning at the distant feeling of his dick twitching in you. The base of his cock is nestled at your entrance and you feel the entire length of it throbbing in your hot pussy as he takes his time to finish.

"You haven't cum," he says through heavy breaths as he comes down and you know he isn't asking but stating his observation.

"It's still really hot," you admit, "I like how it feels when you cum in me."

Staring up at you, he brings his hands up to your ass again and lifts his hips to inch the both of you towards the head of the bed, reaching towards the bedside dresser and grabbing one of your vibrators, handing it to you. You're still impaled on him and gasp at the sensation of him jerking you forward with him on his dick. Now kneading rhythmically at your tits, he pulls at them like he was milking you, "Cum on my cock."

Wide-eyed, you realize he's perceptive and has noticed your vibrators when you came in.

His gaze is drinking you in, eyes less wild as he stares. When you hesitate, he takes the vibrator from your fingers and turns it on, placing it against your clit as you sit on him. You're impressed he knows where the clit is and you jump at the sensation of the vibrator bumping against it, feeling him thrust up with an overstimulated whimper when you jump.

"Tim," you gasp, "doesn't that hurt?"

"Don't worry about it," he hisses through gritted teeth, "I need to feel you cum on my cock."

So you focus on finding your orgasm, hyperaware of the hard rod resting in your secret place, tracing the sex toy along places near your clitoris and moaning in pleasure as you play with yourself. He whimpers every time you squeeze on him and you squeeze on him any time you find pleasure near your clit. His hands return to milking your tits and you remember that his condom is full of his cum, sloshing around deep inside you and pressing against your cervix. The fear of the condom breaking suddenly rushes you to your first orgasm and you gasp his name, feeling him twitch deep inside you as you repeat his name helplessly in your climax. He strains upwards and his lips catch a nipple, sucking harshly as you begin to come down.

"Keep it there," he growls when you begin to pull your vibrator away, "We're not going anywhere until you cum again."

"Tim," you whimper, "I can't."

"I know you can," he says, thrusting upwards experimentally. The movement makes the vibrator bump against your clit and you squeeze down on him at your own overstimulation, making him groan. He slowly and determinedly begins thrusting into you again, small tears forming in his eyes at the overstimuation.

His stubborn insistence on chasing your second high even though you're both beyond the edge only makes you more aroused and you rut against him. He's not thrusting fully, but more so bumping against your cervix in small movements and you're fraught with a visual of the full condom sloshing around. You wonder if he will cum again into it, if it will become so full with his semen it bursts inside you. This thought along with his steady breast kneading causes the knot to quickly build up in your cunt until it comes undone again, and your second orgasm hits in a fray of overstimulation and whimpering.

"There you go," he coos, legs underneath you twitching at your pulsing movements, "There you go, you did so well. You did so good for me, baby...you were meant for it."

You shudder at the sweet tone, being pulled down for a long kiss. His chest is sweaty, the space in between the bottom of your thighs and the tops of his is slick, and you're gasping against his neck when he holds you. The two of you spend a while in that embrace, regaining your breaths and recovering from the intense session. Your head rests against his collarbone until you stir, slowly lifting yourself off him and breathing through the feeling of his cock sliding out of you. When it's fully out, you collapse next to him on the bed, bringing a leg up to wrap around his as you both take a breather.

You know you told him it was no commitment, no feelings, no drama, but you can't deny yourself a cuddle session after sex regardless. He doesn't speak, but the silence is comfortable as you rest your head against the crook of his chest and side. The atmosphere in the room shifts subtly as the distant sounds of the television fade into the background, replaced by the incessant chirping of Tim's phone.

You can't help but notice the growing urgency in Tim's demeanor as he glances at his device, a furrow forming on his brow. Despite your reluctance, he rises from the bed, his movements hesitant yet determined.

Sitting up despite your whines of protest, Tim looks at his device in concern and reluctance, "I have to take this."

Your initial protest dies on your lips as you watch him leave the room, a knot of unease forming in the pit of your stomach. What could possibly be so pressing at this hour? The uncertainty gnaws at you, feeding into the growing sense of unease.

As you strain to make out the muffled voices from the other room, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. The once familiar sounds of Tim's voice now carry an edge of tension, each word laced with frustration and urgency. It's a stark contrast to the comfortable silence you shared moments ago.

Your heart sinks further as Tim returns, his expression weighed down by an unspoken burden. The air between you feels heavy with anticipation, as if bracing for the inevitable.

"What's wrong?" you venture cautiously, already dreading the answer.

Tim's gaze flickers with a mixture of regret and resignation as he meets your eyes, his voice heavy with apology, "I'm really sorry, but something came up. I have to go."

Your mind races, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in the atmosphere. What could possibly be so urgent? Despite your efforts to remain composed, a wave of insecurity washes over you. Did this mean you weren't important enough to prioritize?

"...Really?" you finally utter, your voice trembling slightly.

"Yes," he reluctantly confirms, a guilty expression on his face, "I'm very sorry, but I need to attend to this."

Wanting to protest but knowing it would be more frustration than it was worth, you nodded slowly at the news, "...Okay."

He starts for the door, ""I wish I could stay, but I really need to go. I'll make this up to you, I swear."

As Tim heads towards the front of your apartment to gather his belongings and dress, you follow behind, hastily pulling on your shirt as you move. Despite the turmoil swirling within, you're determined to maintain a façade of composure, refusing to let the tears welling up inside spill over. The uncertainty gnaws at you as you watch him prepare to leave, a knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. You desperately cling to the hope that something truly urgent has come up, unable to bear the thought of him simply walking away after the intimacy you shared. You wonder if you'll be able to face him at school after this, but the thought is so overwhelming to you that you just try to focus on the present moment.

You swallow hard, forcing a tight-lipped smile as you bid him farewell, your heart heavy with unspoken words and unanswered questions. As the door clicks shut behind him, you're left standing alone in the hallway, grappling with the aftermath of his abrupt departure.

After a long moment, you decide that freshening up will probably help you feel better and you turn on heel to head towards the bathroom, the goal of brushing your teeth and washing your face the only thing you're ready to focus on in your sudden loneliness.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

@dakota-rain666 @tyga-stripes @obsessedwithromance

#yandere jason todd #yandere batfam #romantic batfam #romantic yandere batfam #yandere dick grayson #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne #yandere tim drake #yandere tim drake smut #yandere smut #yandere gotham #yandere batman #yandere romantic batman #romantic yandere #yandere batboys #romantic batboys #yandere roy harper

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lamour-est-pur · 9 months ago

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A/N bonjour! welcome back, Ace is my favorite character so the next few post will likely be him unless someone else is requested❤ my first language is not English please be patient ❤

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Ace X Reader

Reader and ace get stuck in a snow storm together during a mission

genre-> Fluff

warnings-> use of Y/N

word count-> 4497

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The wind howled like a banshee, whipping snowflakes into a frenzy around you and Ace. You squinted, trying to make out the path ahead through the swirling white. What had started as a light snowfall just hours ago had escalated into a full-blown blizzard. The mission, originally planned to be a quick raid on a winter island notorious for its black market, was now a desperate struggle for survival.

"We can't stay out here much longer," Ace yelled, his voice barely audible over the roar of the storm. His normally fiery hat hung to his neck by the thin string, revealing windblown black hair plastered to his forehead. Concern etched lines on his freckled face.

Your teeth were chattering, despite the thick winter gear you wore. You cursed inwardly for underestimating the island's weather. "Do you see any shelter, Ace?" you shouted back.

A dark shape loomed up ahead. Ace, with his superior vision, spotted it first. "There! Cave entrance," he pointed, leading the way with newfound urgency.

The cave was a small opening in a rocky cliff face. You practically tumbled inside, collapsing onto the hard, thankfully dry, ground. Relief washed over you as the biting wind died down to a low moan at the mouth of the cave. Inside, it was dark and cold, but a vast improvement over the icy blizzard outside.

The dim light filtering through the entrance barely illuminated the interior. You fumbled in your pack, desperate for any source of warmth. But your fingers brushed against empty compartments – the precious oil lamp you usually carried, lost somewhere in the storm's fury. Panic pricked at your heart.

"Don't worry, (Y/N)," Ace said, his voice steady despite the urgency in his eyes. With a practiced ease, he started rummaging around the cave floor. You watched, a sliver of hope flickering within you, as his gloved hands brushed over the rough, cold rock.

Minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow. The silence was broken only by the dripping of water somewhere deep within the cave and the occasional groan of the wind outside. Just as despair threatened to extinguish the spark of hope, Ace let out a triumphant shout.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed, emerging from the shadows with a handful of dry twigs clutched in his hand. A sense of awe washed over you. You hadn't noticed any loose branches on the cave floor before. It felt like magic, a testament to Ace's resourcefulness and his unwavering focus on keeping you safe.

He carefully arranged the twigs into a small pile, his movements deliberate, almost reverent. You knelt beside him as he lit the sticks alight with his devil fruit power.

the fire sputtered to life, casting flickering shadows on the cave walls, you felt a sense of gratitude blossom within you. It wasn't just the warmth radiating from the flames, but the silent camaraderie, the unspoken understanding that bloomed between you and Ace in the face of adversity.

He glanced at you, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Your eyes met, and for a long moment, the world outside seemed to fade away. The storm raged on, but in that small, fire-lit cave, a different kind of warmth bloomed – a slow burn of unspoken emotions, fueled by shared vulnerability and the quiet comfort of each other's presence.

You shifted closer, seeking the warmth radiating from his body, and he didn't pull away. The fire crackled softly, a counterpoint to the storm's fury, as you sat huddled together, a silent conversation flowing between you in the flickering light. You knew this moment, this unexpected intimacy carved from the blizzard's wrath, could change everything. But for now, you were content to simply be there, in the warm embrace of the fire and Ace's reassuring presence,

As the fire died down to embers, Ace kept you close, his steady heartbeat a reassuring presence against the howling wind outside. You leaned against him, drowsiness creeping up on you as the warmth slowly seeped back into your body. Your eyelids fluttered closed, and the last thing you registered was the faint scent of woodsmoke and Ace's comforting presence.

Dawn arrived, painting the sky outside in hues of pink and orange. The storm had passed, leaving behind a world of sparkling white. You stretched languidly, only to realize you were still nestled in Ace's warm embrace. He was fast asleep, a peaceful expression on his face.

A blush crept up your cheeks as you watched him. This unexpected blizzard had forced you closer, a closeness neither of you had dared to acknowledge before. You gently traced your thumb down his cheek, a silent thank you for keeping you warm through the night.

Ace stirred at your touch, his eyes fluttering open. A slow smile spread on his face as his gaze met yours. "Morning,beautiful," he said, his voice rough with sleep.

"You know," he began, his voice low and husky, "being stuck in a blizzard with you isn't so bad after all." A shy smile spread across his face. You couldn't help but return it, your heart skipping a beat.

Before you could reply, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was hesitant at first, then deepened as you both melted into it. It was a kiss filled with unspoken emotions, a promise of something more waiting to bloom when the storm finally passed.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours. "I never thought I'd say this," he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes, "but maybe getting caught in a snowstorm has its perks."

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(A/N) Thank you for reading❤ REQUEST ARE OPEN please give me your ideas, I write for the one piece characters (Fluff, angst, comfort, smut) once again I do have post lined up that will be going up this week ❤ so please enjoy❤->

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biblebloodhound · 7 months ago

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Making Sense of Faith and Trouble? (Job 15:1-35)

Terrible misfortune is not necessarily a result of personal sin or wickedness.

Job with his friends, by Gerard Seghers (1591-1651) Then Eliphaz the Temanite replied: “Would a wise person answer with empty notions or fill their belly with the hot east wind?Would they argue with useless words, with speeches that have no value?But you even undermine piety and hinder devotion to God.Your sin prompts your mouth; you adopt the tongue of the crafty.Your own mouth…

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denjiunchained · 11 months ago

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secret supporter

you have always admired izuku midoriya from afar, inspired by his unwavering determination despite being quirkless. seeing him bullied by his classmates, you decide to offer your support secretly. you start leaving encouraging notes and small gifts in his locker, hoping to lift his spirits and show him that he's not alone. izuku is initially surprised and touched by these gestures, and as time goes on, he becomes more curious about his mysterious supporter.

----

you watched from a distance, heart aching as izuku midoriya endured another round of taunts from his classmates. the ever-present bullies, led by katsuki bakugo, never seemed to relent. yet, Izuku stood firm, his resolve unbroken despite the cruel words and occasional shoves. his determination, even in the face of such adversity, had always inspired you.

izuku didn't know you very well, but you knew him. how could you not? his dream to become a hero despite being quirkless was something you admired deeply. it stirred something within you, making you want to reach out, to support him in any way you could.

that's how it began, small, simple gestures. the first note you left in his locker was scribbled hastily, your heart pounding as you slipped it between the slats. "keep believing in yourself. you're stronger than you think." the next day, you watched anxiously as izuku found the note. his eyes widened in surprise, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he read it. you saw the brief, precious smile that tugged at his lips, and it made your heart swell with warmth.

you continued this secret support, each note a little more personal, a little more encouraging. "your dreams are worth fighting for." "don't let them bring you down. you have the heart of a hero." alongside the notes, you started leaving small gifts a keychain of all might, a new notebook for his hero analyses, a pack of his favorite snacks. each time, you stayed hidden, watching his reactions, feeling a mix of joy and nervousness as he accepted each token with growing curiosity.

one rainy afternoon, you saw bakugo cornering izuku again. your fists clenched in anger, but before you could intervene, a teacher appeared, dispersing the group. izuku was left alone, drenched and shivering, but you saw the determination still burning in his eyes. that evening, you left an umbrella and a warm scarf in his locker, along with a note: "for the days when it feels like the world is against you. you're not alone."

the next day, you noticed izuku lingering by his locker longer than usual. he took out the scarf, running his fingers over the soft fabric, and for a moment, he looked around, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of his mysterious supporter. your heart raced, but you stayed hidden, not yet ready to reveal yourself.

weeks passed, and the notes continued. you saw a change in izuku, he seemed a little more confident, a little more hopeful. it made you happy beyond words to know you had a part in that change. but as time went on, you knew it couldn't stay a secret forever.

one morning, as you approached izuku's locker with another note, you found him standing there, reading something with a puzzled expression. his head snapped up as you came closer, and you realized with a start that he was holding one of your notes. his eyes widened as he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat. had he figured it out?

"y/n?" he asked softly, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "is it… is it you?"

you swallowed hard, but the sincerity in his gaze gave you courage. "yes, izuku. it's me."

for a moment, there was silence. then, slowly, a smile spread across izuku's face, a smile that was brighter and more genuine than any you'd seen before. "thank you," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "thank you so much. you don't know how much this means to me."

tears welled up in your eyes as you took a step closer. "i just wanted you to know that you're not alone, izuku. you inspire me, and i believe in you. i always have."

izuku's gaze softened as he reached out and gently took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "i… i believe in you too. and i'm really glad to know that i have someone like you by my side."

in that moment, standing together in the bustling hallway, you felt something shift between you, a spark of deeper connection, a bond forged through kindness, support, and mutual admiration. it was the beginning of something beautiful, a budding romance that neither of you would ever forget.

#anime #mha #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha izuku #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #deku x reader #faithfulren

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hellokittyyyysblog · 10 months ago

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𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓮 𝓂𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒

Pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

Summary: A slow morning with Natasha ends with a surpising twist.

Warnings: smut

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌𓆩♡𓆪﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The early morning light streamed softly through the gauzy curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. You stirred slightly, the faint weight of sleep still lingering as you slowly opened your eyes—your head nestled on Natasha's chest. The rhythm of her breathing—steady and hypnotic, lulled you into a deeper sense of calm. Her arm was draped around you, soft yet firm, keeping you in place—not like you were planning to move anytime soon, anyway.

As you lay there, the world outside began its slow awakening, but within the room, time seemed suspended. The soft rustling of the curtains in the faint morning breeze mingled with the gentle hum of Natasha's breath, bringing goosebumps on your bare skin.

Your mind wandered through the delicate intricacies of the moment, savoring every detail—you wanted it to last forever.

Natasha, the woman who faces the world with unyielding resilience, who stands tall in the face of adversity, now lies here beside you, her guard lowered, her essence laid bare. It’s a sight that humbles you, fills you with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and wonder.

You cherished these rare moments when the weight of Natasha's usual obligations and responsibilities melted away, allowing you both to simply lie in bed together. She was often engrossed in training new recruits or whisked away on clandestine missions across the globe, while your own demanding work kept you occupied.

Over the past seven years of your relationship, this routine had become familiar, even though it wasn't without its challenges initially. Yet now, as you lay enveloped in her embrace, nothing mattered anymore, nothing but her.

The light played upon her features, casting soft shadows that accentuated the peacefulness of her expression.

The graceful curve of her collarbone emerges from the delicate neckline of the sheets, a gentle slope that leads your eyes to the subtle hollow at the base of her throat. You trace the line of her jaw with your eyes, noting the elegant precision of its angle, the way it frames her face with an understated strength.

Every detail of her is etched into your mind, an intricate tapestry of impressions that you find yourself constantly unraveling. You can't get enough of her—the way her hair falls in loose tendrils across the pillow, the gentle flutter of her eyelids as she dreams, the almost imperceptible curve of her lips that hints at contentment. She looks so peaceful, so soft, so utterly yours in this moment—that it almost feels like a dream.

There’s a profound intimacy in watching her like this, an almost sacred act of witnessing her in her most unguarded state. It’s as if the universe has conspired to give you this moment, this perfect slice of time where everything else fades away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet aftermath of night.

Every fiber of your being yearned for her. The desire to kiss her overwhelmed you, ached within you, begging for release. She was right there, so close—and your longing felt like a physical ache, a visceral need. You wanted her to feel how deeply you adored everything about her.

"I can feel you staring" Natasha's voice broke the silence, low and teasing—her voice warm and husky with sleep; whilst her lips curved into a small smile even with her eyes still closed.

Caught, you smile back, your fingers absently tracing circles on her skin. "How could I not? You're breathtaking, even when you’re just waking up"

Her eyes open, a glint of amusement and something deeper shining through the green. "Flattery will get you nowhere" she murmurs, her fingers playing with a strand of your hair.

You chuckle softly, the sound vibrating through the tranquil morning air. "Good, because I intend to stay right here."

"Well, aren't you sweet this morning?"

You lean in and press a gentle kiss to her lips. "I can't help it" you say, your voice filled with affection. "You make me feel this way."

She laughs softly, her fingers brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "I guess I'm doing something right then"

"You're doing everything right" you assure her, your voice sincere, filled with love and admiration for the woman lying in front of you.

Natasha raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a smirk. "And here I thought you were just using me for my bed"

You laugh, the sound mingling with the quiet morning. "Well, your bed is quite comfortable. But I think I prefer the company and….the orgasms" you said as a soft grin appeared on your face.

"Smooth" she says, her hand slipping down to your back, tracing patterns on your bare skin.

Her smile softens, a hint of something more serious in her eyes. "Morning" you murmur as you move to lie on top of her.

“Morning detka” she says kissing your forehead.

"Hmm, how about we spend the day in bed?" you say placing small kisses on her neck.

She rolls her eyes, but the smile on her lips betrays her amusement. "As tempting as that sounds, im not spending New Year’s Eve in bed”

You nuzzle into her neck, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. "Fine, fine. But you can't blame a woman for trying."

"I suppose not"

You shift slightly, your fingers playing with the edge of the sheet. "You know, I think I might just stay in bed all day. I have everything I need right here."

Natasha arches an eyebrow, her smirk widening. "Oh? And what exactly do you need?"

"Well, there's the bed, of course. And the pillows. And this incredibly attractive woman lying under me."

Natasha laughs, her eyes sparkling. "You're such a flirt"

You lean in, brushing your lips against hers. "Can you blame me?"

As you pull back, you notice Natasha's gaze lingering on you, her expression growing more intense. Her eyes trace the contours of your face with an unreadable emotion, and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

"Stop looking at me like that"

Natasha's lips curl into a slow smile, her gaze never wavering. "Oh, so you're allowed to watch me sleep like a creep, but I can't?"

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, but you laugh it off. “Touché” you said before pulling her closer, your lips finding hers in a soft, lingering kiss.

Her hands, which had been at your sides, impatiently find their way back to your hair, pulling you further into the kiss—Your lips entwined in such a frenzy that escalated with each passing moment, harder with each kiss, as if time itself was slipping away.

It was the kind of kiss that stirs up a desire to go a little crazy—one that tells you to let go of control, of cold reason, and succumb to the moment. She was warm and soft against you—yet demanding, and her hunger matched yours with an eager tongue, a flame that set your core ablaze and made your head dizzy, that twisted your stomach into a messy tangle of butterflies.

She pulls back, resting her forehead against yours, her hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.

"You okay?" you ask—your brow furrowing with concern.

She hesitates, then nods. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking."

"About what?" you press gently, sensing there's more she wants to say.

She takes a deep breath, her gaze shifting away from you. "About us"

Your heart races, wondering where this conversation is headed. "Yeah? what about us?"

"It's just...sometimes I worry."

You lift your head to look at her more closely. "Worry about what?"

She looks back at you, her eyes filled with a mix of love and uncertainty. "I've spent so much of my life on the run, always looking over my shoulder, always fighting. With you, I've found something I never thought I'd have—a sense of peace, of home. And that scares me."

You feel a lump forming in your throat, the gravity of her words sinking in. "You're everything to me" you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "And I'll always fight for us. No matter what."

She takes a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. "I need to know that you're as committed to this—to us, as I am."

“I am” you say with a loving smile “I’ve been for the past seven years.”

Your heart pounds as she reaches over to the nightstand—she retrieves a small object, keeping it hidden in her hand, a small almost shy smile painting her lips.

"What is it, Natty?"

She bites her lip, a rare sign of vulnerability. "I... I've been thinking a lot lately about what I want for my future. About what we want."

You nod—confused, encouraging her to continue. "And what do you want?"

She takes another deep breath, her eyes searching yours with a mixture of fear and hope. Your eyes widen as she holds out her hand, revealing a simple, elegant ring. The sight of it takes your breath away, and you can see the raw emotion in her gaze.

"Marry me" she says, her voice cracking with emotion. "I need to know that you’ll be with me, always"

For a moment, time seems to stand still.

The world around you fades away, and all you can see is Natasha, her eyes filled with love and vulnerability. You feel a rush of emotions, your heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of joy.

Tears well up in your eyes, and you nod, unable to speak for a moment.

“Is that supposed to be a yes?”

"Yes, Natasha,yes, yes a hundred times” you say as you pull her into a tight embrace, both of you laughing and crying at the same time. In that moment, everything feels perfect. The past doesn't matter, and the future is full of promise.

A radiant smile spreads across her face, and you can see the relief and happiness in her eyes. She slips the ring onto your finger with shaky hands, and you both laugh softly at the shared nerves and excitement.

“Romanoff, huh?” she murmurs, her fingers tracing circles on your hips.

You blink, your mind still a little hazy from the intensity of the momen. “What do you mean?” you ask, genuinely puzzled.

Natasha's smile widens, and she gives a soft, teasing laugh. “Oh, you didn’t catch that, did you?” she says, her voice dripping with amusement. “We did just get engaged, after all. Or did you forget already?”

Your heart skips a beat as realization dawns on you. The ring on your finger glints in the morning light, a tangible reminder of the life-changing question she asked you just moments ago. You’re engaged to Natasha Romanoff.

“I… well, I guess I’m still processing” you stammer, feeling a mix of excitement and disbelief. “You just asked me to marry you”

Natasha chuckles, her hands sliding up to rest on your waist. “And you said yes” she points out, her eyes twinkling. “So, technically, that makes you the future Mrs. Romanoff.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you. “I kind of like the sound of that” you admit, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks.

“Good” Natasha says, her voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper. “Because I love the sound of it.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips.

You grin, leaning in to press a kiss to her neck.

Natasha's fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And…" she begins, her voice filled with playful affection, "I'm going to have to start calling you Mrs. Romanoff now."

You chuckle, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "I suppose you will" you reply, your voice teasing.

Natasha smirks, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think I'll enjoy that" she says, her fingers brushing against your lips. "Especially since it means you're all mine."

"Oh, is that how it works?" you tease back. "You put a ring on my finger and suddenly you own me?"

"Absolutely" she says with a mocking grin, leaning in to press a kiss to your neck.

"You belong to me now."

You laugh, the sound filled with joy. "Is that so? And what if I have some ideas of my own about who belongs to whom?"

Natasha raises an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Oh really? Do tell detka"

You lean in, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "Maybe I want to hear you call me by your last name again. Maybe I want to remind you exactly who you're marrying."

Natasha's eyes darken with desire, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Well, Mrs. Romanoff, you have my full attention"

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of your new name on her lips, and you can't help but grin. "Good" you say, your voice filled with satisfaction—"Because I plan to keep it."

Natasha laughs softly, her breath hot against your skin. "I wouldn't have it any other way" she murmurs, her lips trailing down your neck.

“So, Mrs. Romanoff” she begins, her eyes glinting with mischief, “what’s on the agenda for our first day as an engaged couple?”

You laugh, shaking your head at her playful tone. “Well, I suppose we could start with breakfast” you suggest, your fingers tracing idle patterns on her soft bare skin.

Natasha grins, her hands slipping down to rest on your hips. “Breakfast sounds good” she agrees. “But I have a better idea.”

“Oh? what’s that?”

She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “How about we stay in bed a little longer? I think we have some celebrating to do.”

You shiver at her words, a thrill running through you. “Celebrating, huh?” you murmur, your voice filled with anticipation.

Natasha's smirk widens, her fingers trailing up your arm with a featherlight touch as she nods.

You feel a shiver run down your spine at her words, your breath catching slightly. "I think I like the sound of that."

"I thought you might"

You can't help but laugh softly, your heart pounding with anticipation. "You know, I think you enjoy teasing me a little too much."

Natasha pulls back slightly, her eyes gleaming with playful intent. "Oh, you have no idea" she murmurs, her fingers dancing along your collarbone, sending shivers through your body.

You bite your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Well, two can play at that game."

Natasha arches an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Oh, really?"

You lean in closer, your lips hovering just inches from hers. "Maybe I have a few tricks of my own that you still haven’t seen"

Her eyes darken with desire, her breath hitching slightly. "I'd like to see you try" she challenges, her voice a husky whisper.

You close the distance between you, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. Natasha responds eagerly, her hands roaming your back, pulling you closer.

Gentle kisses become more irresistible as she makes her way further up your neck. Your fingers lace through her hair as she flips your positions— your back making contact with the soft sheets.

You feel your breath hitch as her lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. "Natasha" you breathe, your hands threading through her hair.

She looks up at you, her eyes filled with desire. "Yes, Mrs. Romanoff?" she teases, her voice a seductive purr.

"I love you"

"I love you—so much" she murmurs as her lips capture yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

Her touch is so light, it's as if she's barely doing anything, but the fire that ignites inside you as her skin touches yours begs her to continue. She leaves soft kisses all over your chest, slowly moving downward.

As she makes her way lower, the anticipation builds, every kiss sending waves of electricity through your body.

When her lips finally reach your inner thigh, she pauses, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Natasha" you moan, your hands gripping at her hair—"Please" you whisper, your voice filled with need.

Natasha looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire. "Please what?" she teases, her fingers trailing lightly over your skin.

"Please, don't stop" you beg, your voice barely audible.

She smiles, her lips brushing against your skin. "I’m not planning to, love"

As she begins to tease and torment you, your mind goes blank, consumed by the sensations she's creating. Every touch, every kiss drives you closer to the edge, and you can feel yourself spiraling out of control.

"You look so beautiful like this" she whispers, her breath hot against your skin.

You bite your lip, your fingers tangling in the sheets. "Nat..."

Her smile is both wicked and tender as she places a soft kiss over your clit, so lightly it's as if she's barely touching you. The fire that ignites inside as her skin meets yours is overwhelming, every nerve ending crying out for more.

"Be patient" she murmurs, her hand pressing down on your stomach until your back is flat against the bed.

"Natty” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

She chuckles softly, a low, sultry sound that only heightens your desire. "So eager” she teases, her tongue running back and forth over your clit, working up a rhythm that sends sparks shooting through ur body.

Her hands grip your thighs, holding you firmly in place as she increases the pressure, each stroke over you sending you closer and closer to the edge. Your hands clutch the sheets, your mind spinning with the sensations she's drawing out of you.

"Oh god" you gasp, your hips bucking against her mouth.

Natasha's grip tightens, keeping you anchored as she continues to give you pleasure—her tongue and lips moving with an expertise that leaves you breathless. The rhythm she sets is unrelenting, each flick of her tongue pushing you higher and higher, sending your mind into orbit.

"Natasha" you moan, your voice breaking with the intensity of your need.

She hums against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body.

Her eyes lock onto yours, a silent command to hold on just a little longer.

You can feel the tension building, the pressure mounting until it feels like you might shatter.

With a final, deft flick of her tongue, you're pushed over the edge, a cry of ecstasy tearing from your throat as you come undone beneath her. The world dissolves into a haze of pleasure, every muscle in your body tensing and then releasing in a wave of bliss.

Natasha continues to kiss you gently, guiding you through the aftershocks with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. When you finally come back down, she moves back up your body, pressing soft kisses to your skin.

"Perfect" she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You're perfect."

You smile up at her, feeling your heart swell with love. "You always know what to say to make me melt" you tease, running your fingers through her hair.

"Well, it’s true. You are perfect."

You laugh softly, feeling a warm blush spread across your cheeks. "You’re not too bad yourself, Romanoff."

She raises an eyebrow, a playful challenge in her eyes. "Not too bad? I think I deserve better than that."

You smirk, your fingers tracing patterns on her skin. "Oh, you definitely do."

With a sudden burst of energy, you switch positions again, straddling her waist. "My turn" you say with a teasing smile, your hands resting on her shoulders as you lean in to capture her lips in a loving kiss.

As the kiss deepens, you feel a sense of contentment wash over you. This is where you’re meant to be – with Natasha, by your side, as long as your heartbeat ceased to exist.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌𓆩♡𓆪﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Note:

hello dears!

I stumbled upon this piece in my drafts and loved it so much that I just had to share it with you all! It's a bit different from my usual work because it's my first time writing smut. I hope you enjoy it, because I wasn’t that sure about publishing it…

On another note, I've been hard at work on the next chapter of "Love on the Brain." I know you've been eagerly waiting for it, and I aim to have it ready by next week. However, I also have to study for my last exam, so I appreciate your patience and understanding. ♡

#natasha romanoff x reader #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff au #black widow #marvel #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #vampire!natasharomanoff #natasha x you

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kumasakka · 13 days ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍 ! ❞

⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. asakura shin x reader .

⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. even during the adversity between you two, you should never doubt his love for you again.

⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~1.2k words .

⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. ardet sine fin — (n.) »burns without end« passion that endures, fueled through adversity. crack. hurt with comfort. f!reader. old married couple trope. safe for minors ! crappy writing. shin and sakamoto may seem ooc. cross-posted on wattpad.

　"STOP nagging me, woman..." the boy rolled his eyes before hissing at the stinging pain.

"Call me what?" you added extra pressure against his open wound, the piece of cotton getting tainted by his blood.

It didn't stop there — with 'it' you mean the little fighting and scolding. Oh damn, you sounded like an old hang just like Shin said. Sakamoto was also forced to listen to the bantering at the other end of the room. Yeah well until, he closed his eyes and began sleeping, not wanting to listen how you two were acting like some old married couple. He even requested earplugs like the old man he is.

"Can you not be a little more gentle?" Shin complained, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes, "please— Ouch! Hey!"

"You're such a baby." you narrowed your eyes as Shin squirmed under your grip.

"I'm sorry that it hurts!?"

"It wouldn't hurt in first place if you were more careful!" you wrapped the bandage around his arm, tightened it so it would suck up his blood.

"You act like an old woman, stop that." he knitted his eyebrows in annoyance as he bit his lip, watching you mishandle his delicate body hurts in his eyes. See

"So I should stop carrying about you?" you raised a brow.

"No— Yes!"

"Ugh." you took a needle into your hands, "I'm seriously going to stab you to death with this."

"Yeah sure, you do."

"Take care of your body. It's getting unhealthy."

"I will try."

"Don't try, you should do it." you glared at him.

"Sometimes it's inevitable." he shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't care an ounce about his body. "Sometimes I can't avoid getting hurt."

"Sometimes." you repeated, putting more weight into the word, "try living like a normal adult."

"Hard." he replied.

"Not impossible." you countered, "I mean Sakamoto-san still pulled it off. Man has a wife and a daughter, even owns a store.

"Wife and daughter..." he repeated, the image stuck in his head.

Maybe he will have a daughter one day. And hopefully you're the mother.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!" he choked on his own saliva before coming back to the topic, "[name], a little reminder that it's the former legendary assassin we're talking about."

"Mmh he still is a human." you began stitching his wound.

"Of course he was able to pull it off. I can't do that from today to tomorrow."

"Try it then, silly." you sighed out.

"I'm not silly!"

"Just accept the truth."

There are days you're extremely mean to him. Like — above mean. And there are less days where you show how much you care. There are also days where you two don't interact at all.

Of course he will doubt the relationship between you and him — in his eyes, it seemed like your relationship is on the verge of its end.

A flower that is about to wither.

Yes. He does think that. But one thing he won't doubt though, are his feelings. He loves you, no doubt. Just like how Sakamoto loves Aoi and also how Aoi loves Sakamoto.

One thing he does doubt though? Your feelings. He isn't even sure if you still feel the same for him, compared to the beginning of this all.

Do you love him?

Silence. Awkward silence. Shin watched you but you didn't bother lifting your head. He assumed you were just focused on stitching up his wound. Was he too mean towards you? Should he just endure the rest of the treatment without letting out another sound? Maybe he really should keep his mouth shut. Maybe a look into your mind would explain some things?

"Shin?" your voice grabbed him out of his senses.

"Y-Yes?" he spluttered out, stuttering at that. The heck? Did he just stutter?

"I'm tired." you admitted and cut off the strings, tying it together.

Tired of the relationship?

"Of what?" his voice sounded more fearful than he intended to.

"Worrying about Sakamoto-san and most importantly you, makes me tired." you still didn't meet his gaze yet.

"Sorry..." he apologised. Yet he wasn't sure — what was his apology for?

"...You two always leave without a trace and then Aoi-san has to assure me that you two are fine." you started, "and the moment you show up again, you two look like you're on the verge of death."

"Sorry." this time, the apology sounded a lot more firm.

"I feel stupid for patching you two up." your eyes stay glued to the scissor in your hands, "maybe I should stop and let you bleed to death so I don't have to worry anymore."

"W-Wait what?!" he exclaimed.

'I hate you so much.'

He heard, dreams coming crushing down. His heart felt heavy, heavy enough to drop into a depth. A clump was stuck in his throat, he can't talk yet.

'Why can't he listen for once? Does he even care about my feelings? That stupid—'

Almost. He almost choked. Did you think the same?

'Perhaps he just doesn't care that I'm on the brink of death because of my worries. It's getting unhealthy. Maybe... Maybe I should take a pause of this. Of this relationship?'

"[name]." your name sounded weird on the tip of his tongue. The affection he held for you made it weird. When was the last time he called you this lovingly?

"What?" your reply bit him like a snake would.

He didn't continue further, his hand finding its way to yours. It felt like the typical — his hands were rough and calloused while your hands were a lot softer and had a touch of warmth. It displayed your childhood. He had a rather awful one, full of blood and coldness. Your childhood was another type of different.

"I'm sorry for worrying you to the brink of death..." he started slowly, "next time, I will make sure you know beforehand. Where I'm going and why I'm going. I'm going to try my best to not come back with wounds. But sometimes I really can't avoid getting hurt."

[e/c]-coloured eyes met black ones. You finally lifted your head, he was able to take a glimpse of your face. His expression looked firm and serious while you held uncertainty on your face.

"Forgive me if it seemed like I didn't care about your feelings." he continued.

"Stop... Or else I will regret it."

"Regret loving me?" he whispered. "I'm sorry. I never intended to make you regret."

He raised your hand to cover the back of it with gentle kisses, not caring if your hands were tainted with his blood. Because you always held his hand that was covered with the blood of others.

But at least he repents by being a better man than yesterday. He tries to repent for his sins. So perhaps he can go to heaven with you.

"I can promise you one thing though." he said against your hand.

"Promise what?" your voice was so quiet, almost breaking.

"Asakura Shin promises [lastname] [name] that one day, I will be a better man than I am today. Someone you can be proud of and someone you don't have to worry about. And then I will live a normal life as an adult with you as my wife.

"Stop being so cheesy." you huffed, hot cheeks betraying your thoughts though.

Right yes. His love for you burns without end and gets fueled even through adversity.

SHIN LOVES YOU ENDLESSLY.

a/n's note — I'm sosososo sorry it only followed half of the request! AHHH I JUST WENT WITH THE FLOWWWW and smh the ending is so corny. gng I should just stop writing 🥀

#❨🎐❩ 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀 :: shitpost.#sakamoto days #sakamotodays #sakamoto days x reader #shin x reader #shin asakura x reader #asakura shin x reader #sakadays #sakadays x reader #shin asakura #asakura shin

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kingkatsuki · 2 years ago

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— heatwave

I’m suffering through the heatwave over here, and Bakugou is the only thing that could make it better or worse.

Warnings: 18+, not proofread, Bakugou is your roommate, sweaty sex, dirty talk, spanking, creampie.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 3.8k.

“It’s too damn hot,” Bakugou growled as he lay the back of his head against the couch. Even the soft, worn fabric was uncomfortable against his back. Retaining more heat than necessary paired with his body temperature it had sweat pooling against his skin.

Life as an up and coming Pro-Hero had been rough. With long shifts, terrible hours and little pay he was stuck in this dingy, stuffy apartment. Waiting for the day he’d add an extra figure onto his paycheck to have enough to move out. Things like air conditioning were a lavish luxury that he couldn’t afford right now, so it meant suffering through the torridness with a small ice pack he’d grabbed from the freezer.

The only bonus was having a roommate like you.

Originally Bakugou had been adverse to living under the same roof as someone, unable to trust anyone living in close quarters with him. There was an entire cacophony of issues that could arise from picking the wrong person— from being kept up all night, the mess they could leave behind to having friends or hookups in his shared space.

But you had been a godsend, understanding of his unsocial work schedule and his house rules. You could even argue that you were a better roommate than he was, with his friends delighting in showing up unannounced and causing a mess in his apartment. Something that you were always so understanding of when you’d join them for movie nights or dinner.

You were a blessing. Or now that he thought about it, perhaps it was a curse. Now forced to watch you practically saunter around in the shortest short shorts known to man in a feeble attempt to try and deal with the extreme temperatures. Your top half not much better, the stringy vest top you wore— without a bra no less— exposed your midriff and the cute stiffened peaks of your nipples. Not that he was looking, and even if he was what did you expect him to do.

Rubbing sweat from his upper lip as he spreads his legs wide on the couch as you made your way into the kitchen, his crimson eyes roaming your figure as the shorts hugged the swell of your ass perfectly. Dipping in between the cheeks as he imagined pulling them apart to see what was hidden between them, the material dangerously close to revealing it to him anyway—

You were doing absolutely nothing to help quell the heat oozing through his body. In fact, Bakugou was certain you were making it worse. His cock jumping at the sight of you, pulsing beneath his shorts as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Praying that this sudden heatwave would cease and he could stop being tortured by the sight of you like this every damn day, it was bad enough when he’d catch peeks of you in a towel coming from the bathroom towards your bedroom, or forgotten panties left strewn around. But this? This was unbearable.

“I can’t deal with this heat,” The whiny tone to your voice had Bakugou silencing a growl deep in his chest, watching you hold the back of your hand to your forehead dramatically, “I wanna sit in the freezer.”

“Don’t you dare.” Bakugou knew from experience the heat alone would be enough to shut down the entire machine, and you both definitely didn’t have enough money to replace it if it did.

And that freezer was the only thing satiating the heat so far. Shoving his melting ice pack against his chest, the contents quickly changing form to liquid as he tried to make the most of it before it would have to go back inside the freezer.

“Let me feel,” You came around the couch to stand in front of him, his eyes set in a heavy glare as he tried to weigh up whether it was worth letting you feel how cold the pack was.

It was bad enough having you so scantily clad in such short proximity to him right now, certain he could now smell the saccharine of your perfume as you pulled the top of your vest down, exposing the swell of your breasts as you presented your sternum to him.

Bakugou pushes the pack to your chest and immediately regrets it when the sound you let out is downright sinful. You have to know what you’re doing to him, the way your lips curl into a delicious looking pout and your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

“Oh god, that feels so fucking good.” You moaned, eyes clenched shut to focus on the cool chill that slowly washed over your chest.

His cock jumps in his shorts as he tries to shift his hips to avoid you from noticing the now very evident bulge, the throb pounding through his veins as he feels a different kind of heat beginning to take over.

He should stop here, take his ice pack back and tell you to go and sit in front of your mini desk fan again. Get you out of the room and as far away as possible and save this for another day, a day when you’re both not delirious from the intense heat.

But his depraved thoughts have already consumed him, the thought of your plush body pressed against his while he slides his throbbing cock inside you now at the forefront of his mind as he presses the pack lower. Watching as you arch your back towards it, welcoming the cool chill as you lean forward to splay your sweaty palms against his thick thighs.

And whether he’s delirious from the heat, or it’s the desperate look in your eyes he doesn’t know. All he knows is he’s kissing you fiercely, the ice pack drops forgotten between your bodies in favour of grabbing your hips.

“Fuck,” You kiss him back, words swallowed by his chapped lips as you feel the bulge between his thighs press snug against your crotch.

Your hands reach up to card through messy blond spikes as your nails graze his damp scalp, your tongue swiped against his as he palms your ass. Calloused fingertips disappear beneath the flimsy fabric as he squeezes the fat of it, tugging you down against his hardness as he pulls more sultry sounds from your throat.

“It’s too hot for this, Katsuki.” You whine, breaking the kiss as you gasp for air in the humid room.

At this chance Bakugou’s lips venture lower, peppering kisses along your jawline towards your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your vest. Tugging the fabric down to reveal your round breasts, his tongue pokes out to wet his lips at the marvellous sight.

His nighttime fantasies can’t compare to the sight in front of him, crimson eyes shamelessly ogle your skin to commit the sight to memory as he leans forward.

“Shut up,” He rasps back gruffly while mouthing your breast.

You’re right, it’s entirely too hot for any kind of strenuous activity, especially when he’s sweating so much it already feels like he’s run a marathon. But the way your soft body feels pressed against his is too much to pass up. Especially when this is what he’s been dreaming about ever since he moved in with you, fisting his cock too. It’s too much to leave it to chance that he may get this opportunity again later. Bakugou’s always been a greedy man, and he wants to have you now.

“Fuck,” You cry out when his teeth graze your nipple, pushing your crotch against his with more urgency.

Certain you’ve leaked through the flimsy fabric, desire surges through you dense and fast. A stark contrast to your lethargic movements as you grind yourself down on his lap pathetically.

“Katsuki,” You whine.

His strong hands are doing all the work as he moves you how he pleases. Strong palms pick you up by the meat of your ass to drop you back down on his length. Grinding your puffy clit against his pelvis with each motion as he has you crying out in pleasure.

“Fuck, Katsu. S’too hot—”

You weren’t sure whether it was the humid air permeating the room or the way that Bakugou was looking at you with smouldering eyes that had your body aflame. Muggy, vapid air filling your lungs as clammy hands stroked along his bare torso. Mapping out a course of newly discovered territory as you let your thumbs brush against his pebbled nipples, his chest vibrating against your touch with more sultry groans.

“I know you are, sweetheart.” He hummed, his fingers brushing the crotch of your shorts, “Let me make you feel good.”

“Oh,” You gasped when you felt the calloused pads stroke your labia, involuntarily leaning forward to give him more space as Bakugou began to spread you apart for him. Fingers gliding through your messy folds, dragging your essence along your slit until he found your puffy clit.

The contact had you jolting forward, nails grazing his chest as he focused his attention on it. Circling it tentatively with the pad of his finger as you began to rock your hips back against him, uncaring about how debauched you looked as you began to seek your own pleasure.

“Yeah?” He rasped, and the gravelly husk did nothing but increase the desperation inside you, “You like that?”

“Fuck, please—“ You buried your head in the curve of his neck, your lips pressed against the slick skin as you tasted the saltiness of his sweat on your tongue.

“Please what, sweetheart,” He cooed.

“Please—“ You gasped when you felt his thumb press against your empty hole. He knew exactly what you wanted, he was toying with you.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Your fingers.” You were shameless, your hips grinding back against him as Bakugou finally took mercy on you and pushed his thumb into your sloppy entrance. The slightest penetration enough to drag a deep moan from your throat as he kept his focus against your clit, leaning his head back against the couch to try and see the blissful expression on your face as he worked you with precision.

“Got no damn idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” He husked against your ear, lips soft against the shell as you clenched around him in response, “Always walkin’ round in those fuckin’ short shorts got me wanting to bend you over every surface in this house.”

“Oh fuck,” You mewled, already feeling yourself teetering on the edge of your climax as he kept his pace constant against your clit, his thumb positioned to press against your spongy wall as his other hand tightened its grip on your ass. Spreading you open, as you found your bliss, “Katsuki.”

“That’s it, good girl.” He hummed, feeling your walls pulse around his digit as he kept his pace. Working you through your release as he pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your temple.

You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d wished the same, coming into the kitchen to see him still in full hero gear after work. Dirt and grime covering his body as his mask was pulled up over his forehead to show his blackened eyes, bending over to grab the carton of juice from the fridge as he held it up to his lips to chug it. Watching his Adam’s apple bob as the liquid flowed, giving you the perfect view of him as you tried to busy yourself to hide the fact you were blatantly staring.

Or the moments where he’d come out of the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips to shout at you for using the taps in the kitchen while he was showering. The cheap apartment had one flow of hot water and it shut off that luxury whenever it was used elsewhere. The cold water catching him off guard as he glared at you, water droplets drooling down his perfect skin and making him look more like an ancient god or deity than your roommate.

“So why didn’t you?” You asked when you’d come down from your high.

“Huh?” Bakugou’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt before.”

“I like livin’ with you,” He shrugged, “Didn’t wanna jeopardise that.”

“You wouldn’t have,” You smiled, pulling yourself back from his neck to meet his gaze, “I like you too.”

“That mean I can finally eat this pretty little pussy?” He groaned, shuffling his hips, “Been thinkin’ about it since the day I met you.”

“Later, please—” You pawed at the hard bulge between his thigh, his pre staining the fabric as you pressed against the tip.

“Fuck,” He grunted, shamelessly bringing his fingers to his lips to get a taste of you. His tongue sweeping against his digits to clean them of your slick, “Gonna take you over every damn surface in this house, princess.”

Your fingers curled into the hem of his shorts, Bakugou lifting his hips off the couch to help you drag them down just enough to free his heady cock— the sight of it better than you’d ever imagined in those nightly fantasies.

He was thick and long, bulging veins that forked along the length of him only made him seem that much more intimidating as his balls sat heavy at the base. Neatly trimmed blond hairs decorated his pelvis as they created a pretty trail along his abdomen, unable to resist running your hand along it as his stomach folded at the touch. A sharp hiss sucked sharp through his teeth as you wrapped your hand around him at the base, holding him steady so you could see the tip. The head a swollen pink as pre continued to bead at the slit, drooling down towards his frenulum as you moved to settle between his thighs. Wanting a taste of him yourself as you swiped your thumb over the leaky tip of his cock.

“Oi, I thought you said later,” He teased, rough hands steady on your hips to stop you from moving.

“Please,” You whined pathetically, “Wanna taste you.”

You brought your thumb to your lips as your tongue swiped at the surface, tasting him on your tongue as your lashes fluttered. Crimson eyes focused on your movements as his cock twitched in appreciation, tempted to let you do whatever you pleased. But he’d been waiting far too long for this moment, and there was no way he could wait any longer.

“You little minx,” He groaned as you sucked your thumb, “I promise later.” He groaned, tugging at your shorts, “Do you like these?”

“Yeah, they’re— what the fuck, Katsuki?”

You gasped when you heard the sharp sound of ripping fabric, “I said I liked them.”

“Sorry,” You could tell from the smug grin on his face that he was anything but as he positioned you above his leaky cock, “I gotta have you now.”

You held onto his shoulders as he wrapped a large fist around his cock, dragging the tip through your slick as he felt it catch against your tight entrance. His other hand on your hip slowly dropping you down onto his length as you felt the pleasurable ache of him stretching you open ebb through your pelvis.

“I got you, sweetheart,” He groaned, watching his cock slowly disappear inside you as he felt your warm walls wrap snugly around him, “Gonna take such good care of you.”

You felt hot, the heat radiating from your sex sweltering and yet you didn’t want to let go. The thick girth of his cock filled you perfectly as you felt him pressed against every ridge and groove of your cunt like he was made for you.

Your lips move together languidly, tasting the saltiness from his upper lip as you move together in tandem. Wet and sloppy while his tongue strokes yours, desperation evident by the way you try to deepen the kiss. As though you’re trying to melt into him, to feel him devour you whole.

“Oh, shit.” You choke back a cry when you feel the tip of his cock hit a spot deep inside you, certain you’ve never had something quite so big before.

You struggle to lift yourself up with your legs spread wide over his thick thighs as you grind yourself against his lap. Your clit catching against the trimmed hairs at his base as you roll your hips with desire, your chest pressed taut to his as you start a lazy pace. The scorching heat inside the apartment makes it difficult to breathe as you writhe in his lap, his warm breath fans against your skin almost feels cooler than the thick air clouding the room.

“Kats. It’s too hot.” You whine pathetically, your pace clumsy and sluggish as the desire inside you burns hot and heavy.

“You started this.” He retorts cockily with a smug smirk on his face.

“I did not.” You pout, “This is your fault.”

“Stop whinin’” He reaches back to bring his palm down on your ass in a rough smack, the sweatiness of his quirk has his skin tacking to you as it increases the sensation, clinging to your skin as you gasp in surprise. A painful pleasure courses through your veins as the skin prickles beneath his touch, your pliant walls clamping down around his girth in retaliation.

Without hesitating he reaches his large palms back to cup a cheek in each hand, lifting you up languidly as he marvels the glossy sheen your slick leaves on his cock.

“You just sit there and look pretty, let me do the work.” He spread is thighs wider, giving himself more air as he shifted your weight. Picking you up and dropping you down on his length as he listened to the pretty sounds that spilled from you like a siren, drawing him in and capturing his heart as you pulsed around him.

“Why couldn’t you have got an ice quirk?”

Clammy hands paw at his shoulders as Bakugou repeats the motion, skin tacking to skin as he bounces you on his cock. The kinetic energy builds heat swiftly and harsh as you feel the stickiness against your skin. Your wetness seeps out against his pelvis and matts the hair at his base, catching your clit with each drop of your hips.

“Shut the fuck up,” He scoffed, “You won’t be sayin’ that come winter.”

The thought of having his warm body to warm you during those cold winter months, still being with him then— had you clenching around him.

“Oh yeah? You like the sound of that?” He grinned, “Can feel this pussy clenchin’ around me.”

“Fuck, Katsuki.” The heat was becoming unbearable, radiating from your core as it burned molten lava. The coil inside you dangerously close to snapping as you danced on the crux of your release, gasping for air as he changed tact. Holding your hips tight under sweaty palms as he planted his feet flat on the ground, pistoning his hips up into your pliant sex, “There— oh, god. Right there—”

“That’s it,” He rasped, watching your tits bounce with each rapid thrust, “Fuckin’ beautiful.”

“‘m gonna cum,” You choked out between moans, feeling the curved tip of his cock drag against the spongy spot inside you with each thrust, “Oh shit—”

“Cum for me,” He growled, “Cum all over my cock.”

The tips of Bakugou’s thumbs pressed against your pelvis, tightening his grip as it only increased the pressure. Sweat trickling down your temples as he sent you vaulting over the edge into euphoria.

“Good girl,” He grunted, feeling your walls clamp down around his cock as you willed him to come with you, trying to milk him of his seed.

The pleasure was unlike anything you’d felt before, mind-numbingly intense as you cried out a jumbled mess of his name. Your nails digging crescent moons into his skin as he hissed beneath you, shamelessly searching for his own end as the heat radiated from your body. Sliding against each other from the sweat that now trickled down your skin, leaving a glossy sheen against you both as he used you for his own pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum,” Bakugou grunted, moving to lift you off his cock before you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, unbothered about the stifling heat in the room as you kept him tight against you.

“Cum inside me, Katsuki.” You gasped a he choked back a grunt, your words all it took to meet his own end.

His guttural moans are sinful, erotic as you cling to him with fervour. Committing the sensation to memory as though it’s the last time you’ll have him like this, as if the heat has him in this delirious state. And maybe it does—

You never thought Bakugou could look so pretty like this, completely vulnerable as he exposes his most intimate self to you. Thick, white spurts of cum spurt from his tip as he empties his balls inside you.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathes hot and heavy as you feel his chest rise and fall against yours.

Bodies slumped together on the couch as you feel the dampness of skin against skin, your vest that now sits useless around your waist is soaked and warm as the fabric clings to your body.

“I’m so sticky,” You whine childishly, making no attempt to move as Bakugou’s fingers trace absent-minded patterns along your exposed back.

“How the fuck dya think I feel?” He rasps, “My ass is stuck to the couch.”

“Eww,” You tease, running your nose along his collarbone as you take in the musky scent of him, “We’ll have to get another couch.”

He catches you by surprise as he presses the forgotten ice pack to the back of your neck, although it’s mostly melted it’s a stark contrast to your sweltering body as you flinch in surprise. Your cunt clenches around him at the sensation as Bakugou grunts from the attention.

“Oh shit, don’t do that sweetheart—“ He hisses, wrapping an arm around your back to hold you tight against him, “You’ll make me hard again.”

Something that you’re not sure you’d mind, even though your body is screaming out for a different kind of relief now. Desperate to cool your temperature down as you scrunch your nose in irritation.

“I feel so gross.” You complain as he gives your ass another playful spank as you barely move from the impact, your bodies stuck together with a mixture of heat and sweat.

“Got no one to blame but yourself, princess,” He groans, “I was just mindin’ my business until you came over in those little shorts.”

“You weren’t complaining when you were balls deep.” You moved your head back to glare at him.

“My balls feel like they’re on fire now,” He scoffs, leaning forward to peck your pouty lips, “Cold shower?” He asks, although he’s already decided he’s showering with you— he’s taking every moment he can with you now.

#Bakugou x reader #Bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #Katsuki bakugou smut

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