#Trying to save his cherished humanity?

[georgiacooked]

I will never forgive League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen for thinking that Jonathan Obsessed-With-His-Wife Harker would ever even conceive of divorcing Mina if they couldn't cure her vampirism.

THE NERVE.

THE VERY IDEA.

The fact that in the comic he goes through with it-

[fenkko]

one who had dreams of being a hero

This comic is based on Story 3, which speaks of his hobby of ice fishing originating from the days he'd go out with his father on the ice, 'accompanied by his father's unending tales of adventure,' and dream of being the protagonist.

Nowadays, he keeps up the hobby, though only as a method of training... and it seems he fishes alone.

I thought a lot about fairytales and stories told to children -- how they are used to impart lessons and shape a child's growing sense of morality.

I think these stories were Childe's father telling him what kind of man he hoped his son would become.

In Story 5, 'his father had no choice but to hand his beloved son over for conscription into the Fatui' in an attempt to discipline his temper, but was disappointed when Childe continued ascending the ranks, further and further from the gentle boy he was..

His father named him after the hero Ajax. Is he still disappointed in the path Childe has taken? Does he still see his son in the man he sees before him? Does Childe feel in himself the chasm between who he dreamed of becoming and who he is now?

It's interesting, that fairytales should often have a very strict good/evil morality. Childe professes he has no use for such things, and will gladly become a mindless weapon so long as he can continue honing himself for battle. And yet, has he truly given up on being human?

For a Harbinger, Childe is oddly principled, preferring straightforward battles without deceit. He retains a sort of moral code, reluctant to involve those who are defenseless in his plans.

And of course, he deeply cherishes his family. What sort of weapon has a family? Why does he cling so desperately to this identity as a defender of childhood dreams, of being his sister Tonia's knight?

Perhaps his own dream of being a hero died long ago, but a part of him still recognizes the tragedy of it and maybe... in some way, is still trying.

This is somewhat of a companion piece to my Scara comic "one who has given up on being saved". Childe, unable to live up to his childhood ideals of heroism, and Scara, whose pleas for help went unanswered.

A failed hero, and someone who never had one.

ARGHH yknow it drives me nuts. I haven't known peace since I started thinking about it.

[logaenhowlett]

IF ONLY YOU KNEW PART TWO - L.H.

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of everything that occurred last night, Logan decides it's time to stop running from his desires. [Set during Logan (2017)]

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Themes of grief and death, Language

A/N: Thank you so much for the love on part one! Didn't expect it to blow up that much. Good news is, it gave me the motivation to write more, so I have lots of ideas for Logan fics!

MASTERLIST | PART ONE

Over two hundred years, Death had become all too familiar for Logan. A foe that kept barreling in his direction, but always fizzled out before it reached him, instead striking those he cherished the most. When he was younger, he used to revel in feeling of being indestructible, immortal even. That faded away rather quickly once he realised what a curse it was, a cruel joke he grew tired of. Alas, the universe continued laughing.

He thought he could avoid all the unnecessary pain and misery by severing all ties to humanity, retreating to the ends of the world all by his lonesome. But not even the strongest soldier could resist the craving for connection for that long. When Charles had offered a place in his sanctuary, he refused at first, wondering why the universe always seemed to work against him. 

Eventually, the need to distance himself from everything and everyone became smaller. Charles had given him a home, a family, a sense of belonging and after a while, you. Logan was not one for retrospection, but he often recollects how drastically his life had changed once he’d accepted the responsibility of being an X-Man. How he’d gained a new purpose. He owed everything to Charles Xavier.

The shovel in his hand gets heavier by the second. He stops digging for a moment, sensing a whole lot of anger, sorrow and desperation waiting to burst out of him. He knew the end was near for Charles, ever since the incident the old man was barely hanging on. There were times when he wished Charles would just let go, just stop fighting against his mind and body, for his own sake. But that didn’t make his death hurt any less.

His own exhaustion was catching up to him too, having spent the last few days - hell, the last few months - putting everyone else before himself. He hasn’t been able to rest despite all your efforts.

As the last of the dirt falls onto the grave, Logan staggers backwards, his shoulders knock into the tree. He slides against the trunk a little as his knees begin to loosen under his weight, unsure whether it’ll be the adamantium poisoning or heartache that’ll get him first.

Laura’s sniffling snaps his attention, he watches as she curls into your embrace, nothing you were saying stops the tears from escaping. He can see you’re trying to keep your composure for the little girl, but he knows you’re just inches away from completely breaking down. Charles was the father you’d chosen, he had saved your life just as he’d done for countless others, brought you into his arms and gave you something to live and fight for. He knows you’re as defeated as he is right now. Despite every cell in his body aching to comfort you, he understands you need the time and space to grieve in your own way.

After moments of silence, the three of you return to the car. There wasn’t a lot of time left for Laura to find her friends and cross the border to get to freedom. Logan uses that to ground himself to reality, helping her would be a way to honour Charles, for everything he had done and represented. He vows that he’ll grant her wishes, even if it’s the last thing he’ll do. He owes that to Laura, to Charles and to you.

The stars twinkle miles above, painting the night sky with their luminous hue. Logan pulls into the roadside near a lake, deciding it’s in the best interest of everyone to rest tonight. He steps out the car, scouting for a decent place to start a fire. Laura silently accompanies him to gather wood, her eyes follow you as you wander towards the lake, away from the two of them.

Logan senses her need rush to your side, he shakes his head slightly, understanding her distress, “She’ll be okay, kid.” It comes out a little hoarse, having been the first words he’d spoken all day.

All the smoking he’d done in the last two centuries comes in handy, he uses his lighter to spark flames, tending to it before it settles into a calm fire. He runs his hand down his face, his mind has been in overdrive for too long and all he wants is for one moment of quiet. Where he can surrender, stop trying to survive and just live.

“Why are you hiding?” Laura asks him, holding her hands toward the flame.

“What?”

She turns her head to find you in the distance sitting down on the grass with your feet in the water, “From her.”

Logan follows her line of sight, “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, kid.” 

“You want to die. Charles told me.”

He scoffs, the name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, “What else did he tell you?”

“To not let you.” She stands, finally meeting his eyes. “Tell her. If you want to be happy.” She doesn’t stick around for his response, instead making her way back to the car to sleep.

Her words strike a chord in him, he huffs lightly, ducking his head into his chest. What the hell did she know? Happiness wasn’t something he envisioned for himself. No, that often came in the form of alcohol or stupid cage fights. He never let himself indulge in anything else, having learned his lessons from what seems like a lifetime ago. 

The leaves crunching under your footsteps draws his attention, you sit down an arm's length away, prodding the fire with a stick. He doesn’t know how to address the giant elephant hanging in between the two of you. Last night, when you’d asked the question, the answer was right there on the tip of his tongue. So easy and so simple. But he withdrew, in such a cowardly manner too, deflecting as if he doesn’t ache for you with each passing day.

“He taught me how to play chess.”

He studies you for a brief moment, the tear tracks on your face shine against the orange hue of the fire.

“We used to sit every day, in the garden, I’d run straight to him after classes were done.” You continue, a fond smile on your face, “I was convinced he was cheating, you know? I never beat him.”

Your resolve crumbles and sadness washes over you once again, “And I never will.”

It dawns on him too, the finality of what had happened last night. He almost laughs at the thought of Charles, beloved by so many, resting in an unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere. The universe is a cynical motherfucker.

If anything, he hopes the man felt proud in his last moments, happy for all he’d achieved in his lifetime. Logan wishes he could be even half the person his mentor was. He always berated him to reach out to those around him. To you. That joy was but a breath away from his grasp, all he needed to do is let you in. He must’ve sensed how well the two of you would get along, how you needed each other’s presence as a pillar of support.

“Why did you keep coming back?”

The question renders him a little speechless. Memories flash across his mind - Rogue, Bobby, Storm, but mostly, you. The two of you had always tiptoed around each other when it came to feelings, at times getting enough courage to finally say something, but never following through.

You stand up, thinking he’s absolutely not in the mood to talk. You don’t blame him either. That’s the thing between you two - there was always some silent understanding of the other.

“You.”

It leaves him so quietly, he’s not sure if you heard him. He’s already looking at you when you turn around, something in your eyes he’s never noticed before. Tell her. If you want to be happy. There’s no reason to hide anymore.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first,” He starts slowly, “You kept… creeping into my life and I… I couldn’t stay away.” A smile, a genuine smile, appears on his face, one that hadn’t graced him in a long while.

“I’ve been around for a long time - more than I should’ve.” He continues, his eyes never leaving yours, “I always… felt like I didn’t deserve to survive. It shouldn’t be me, standing here instead of someone else. But you, being around you… made me want to try.” A weight forms in his throat, he swallows it down, “Try to live not just for you - but for me too. I can never thank you enough for that. For sticking with me, for trusting me, for letting me… love you.”

You close the distance, gently resting your hand against his cheek. He leans into your touch almost instantly, even that simple gesture is enough for him. But you don't end there.

"Logan... I love you too."

He thinks his heart stops, your admission knocks the wind out of him. The old man was right, everything he'd wanted was right in front of him. He leans into you, tilting your chin upwards and kisses you with a burning passion. All the pain he'd suffered sinks to the back of his mind, nothing but a shadow compared to what he's feeling at the moment. When you pull back, doe-eyed and out of breath, he realises this is it. You're it.

In the distance, he catches a smile form on Laura's face, her eyes still shut as she pretends to sleep.

And we're done! Always going to be a happy ending.

[anika-ann]

Sweet and Ours, Tonight - S.R.

Type: one-shot, established relationship, domestic... filth

Pairing: Steve Rogers x wife!reader   Word Count: 5,8k

Summary:  You and Steve had a long, long week.

You both deserve a reward. Perhaps an evening with undivided attention to each other... and maybe to end the endless week with a bang.

The thing is, Steve has no idea about what’s awaiting him at home. Yet, you have a feeling he will like it - and he'll be happy to show you.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, praise kink, slight authority kink, soft dom/sub elements (with a tad dominant Steve), a sprinkle of possessiveness, potential blasphemy, lingerie kink, marriage kink (if that's a thing), mention of (tender) hair pulling, mention of semi-public sex if you squint really hard, language, FLOOF

A/N: At the time of Cum Together: Community Revival Extravaganza  hosted by @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420, there were two potential stories on my mind – the soulmate AU one, which I ended up writing, and this one, which fulfils multiple prompts from the list (see the end). The extravaganza is long over – but hopefully, you’ll enjoy 💕

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @saradika; enjoy, but it's smut y'all - read at your own risk and responsibility

Setting the half-full glass of water on the counter, you smiled to yourself as you heard the keys rattle in the lock. The sound meant one of your favourite things in the world: Steve was home.

‘Home’ was your spacious shared apartment near the new upstate Avengers facility, one you and Steve had chosen not because the large complex hadn’t included living quarters, but because you had wanted a place that was truly your own.

On days like this, you were more grateful for that decision than ever. Here, the work and the weight you carried from it could be left at the doorstep, and you could enter a truly safe space, shielded by your love from the outside world. World which could be loud, overwhelming, and at times, evil.

Today, it meant that Steve would try to leave behind the exhaustion and frustration of a week-long conference of the United Nations and adjoined organisations. You, you had left behind the very same sentiments lacing the endless week of extra shifts. Sometimes it felt like the work was never done; be it patching up international relations or patching up the dumbass of the day. Be it dealing with diplomats who barely even listened, let alone acted on their empty promises; or be it repairing damage to human body made by another supposedly human being, battling to keep alive agents who not so rarely held zero regard for their own safety in the process of saving the very world for whose safety Steve was advocating in DC. You wondered where the agents could have possibly got the inspiration for their reckless behaviour – but that was not the kind of thoughts you wanted to entertain tonight, especially since you knew the answer all too well.

Tonight, you wanted to cherish your husband’s company.

You had missed Steve; even when swamped with work, you both took care to stay in contact, confiding one another on as much of your longing for each other’s company as on feeling drained.

You were glad for having had enough wits to plan ahead and be able to come home before him.

It had been no surprise to you that Steve had called you that he was about to arrive home as scheduled, but crankier than planned despite finally leaving the self-contained self-important jerks behind. The relief in his voice had been palpable; and his voice had only grown warmer when he learned you were to already wait for him at home. Your lips had twitched at the guttural sigh he released upon learning, whispering he was really happy to hear that; as were you to hear that he was coming home in one piece, which was unfortunately not a rule.

He loved you, he had said too. So damn much.

You had told him the same, wondering if that was what would leave his lips when he’d see you. Especially since he had no idea what coming his way, should he want it.

The lock barely clicked open and you were already on your way. A rapid carpet-muted staccato of your heels welcomed Steve as he entered, his curiosity clearly piqued in an instant.

He had but a second to take in your appearance – the bloody red pumps, the peek of nude nylons, the beige trench coat reaching just above your knees, your simple but effective hairdo and make-up, dominated by berry-red lipstick – or get his suitcase through the doors and close them. Before he could say as much as hi, you were already cupping his face and kissing him softly, for once not having to stand on your tiptoes too high.

There was a significant part of you which was dangerously close to jumping on him with enough force to slam him against the door and pour all your enthusiasm at seeing him into the kiss. It had taken all your willpower not to do so since your body throbbed with the need – but you didn’t want him to feel ambushed, unsure about his mood. So you revelled in the precious opportunity to touch him, in the feel of the figurative and literal warmth he was radiating, in the taste of his lips you had missed so viscerally; and with the minute mental capacity left, you tried your best to read his reaction.

It would be a shame for your plan and efforts to go to waste; but the last thing you’d want was to push thoroughly exhausted Steve who’d just want some peace into something he’d… be willing but not excited to do.

Your worries were fruitless, however. Steve’s hands came to life immediately, one reaching for your waist, the other to cradle your cheek. His lips responded in kind, even as his smile tasted of surprise. The tension you had got a brief glimpse of melted away from his shoulders, fingertips caressing your skin, nose gently nudging yours as your lips parted, forehead to forehead.

“Hi,” you breathed out contentedly, feeling the tension leaving you as well, warmth spreading through every vein and nerve in your body at Steve’s gentle chuckle instead.

“Hi, love.”

“Welcome home.”

His smile was as nothing short of blinding when he retreated just a bit to look at you and grace you with a shining gaze roaming your face, as if taking in every feature, every line, every arch, every last eyelash for the first time. Your heart thump-thumped in your chest happily as your hands slid to his neck, unable to tear your gaze away from the beautiful image he made.

A man with love.

Your man.

Your husband.

Your extremely handsome husband; every suit, be it a formal wear or his tactical one, accentuated his wide shoulders and sharply cut jaw you couldn’t but run your fingertips over, marvelling at the pure delight in his face.

“I feel very much welcomed, sweetheart,” he assured you, squeezing your waist. Despite being clearly exhausted, his smile was radiant; until it fell a fraction. “Are you going out?”

Your heart hummed with a soft ache; it was impossible to miss his effort not to look disappointed as not to make you feel guilty for having a social life outside your marriage, even if rather inconveniently timed. Bless his good, good heart.

You shook your head with your smile lingering, barely hiding a smirk. “I’m not going anywhere, Mr. Rogers.”

His expression perked up again, his arm sneaking further around your waist as he observed you with playful curiosity. “Oh? Are we going out? Did you plan something, Mrs. Rogers?”

To highlight his indulgence in calling you that – and god knew hearing him say that still sent butterflies to your stomach even after months of that being a reality – his hand moved from your cheek to take you left hand, fingers interlacing; your wedding bands made a soft clinking noise as they met, Steve’s gaze flickering to their combined light with such undiluted joy in that little action you couldn’t but brush your lips over his again, something deep inside you trembling and preening at once.

Your husband.

“Would it be a bad thing? If I did plan something?” you asked, part coy, part genuine. “It’s okay if you’re not in mood for that.”

Steve only smiled wider, dropping a kiss to your knuckles and then your lips, before pulling back just a fraction. He observed you silently and almost absently, yet seemingly with mission-level intent. 

The silence stretched as you awaited his answer, encouraging him – and yourself, because the silence was growing louder with every beat of your heart – with a suddenly unsure smile.

“Steve? Love?”

He blinked, shaking his head lightly. Before you could feel your stomach drop in disappointment at this being his answer, he spoke up.

“Sorry, you… you look beautiful. Got a little distracted here.”

Your belly did a funny flip-flop that had no right to be so deep within; but this gorgeous man had no right to be so perfect either. And you loved him for it.

“I don’t mind going out or staying,” he said softly. “I’m honestly just glad to be home. With you. That’s my favourite thing in the world. Being with you… here, in the home we made together.”

Tremble. Something within you trembled and it was almost comical how those words shook and soothed your soul, a sharp contrast to how very non-poetic your intention to seduce his body was. But that was how you seduced each other the first time and did so over and over again; body, mind and soul alike, tipping the scales in favour of one and then the other and back as the situation allowed.

It was your turn to blink now, fighting the burn of tears in your eyes, threatening to spill at the profound sincerity in Steve’s voice and the adoration in his beautiful blues; they turned all the prettier as a spark of mischief lit them up and he stepped back, releasing you from his warm embrace.

“But, since you got all dolled-up and clearly made plans, it would be a waste. Want to tell me what my orders are, ma’am?”

Excitement lighting up your nerves anew, you stepped back with a hum.

“Well… actually, I made plans to stay in…” Steve’s eyebrow arched a bit, but something beautifully dark flashed in his eyes – a mute understanding that whatever you had planned, you had dolled up for him. For him and him only. “And since you said those people there were all talk, no listening, no action… I thought that maybe you’d a like a change of scenery.”

As you took another step back further into the apartment, Steve discarded his shoes in a lightning speed, his gaze never leaving your face, hanging on your lips for every syllable. 

You bit back a satisfied smile, something hot stirring in your belly. “That maybe, you’d like someone who can listen very well, and is willing to… act? Would you like to tell me my orders, Captain?”

His gaze went to roam – from the top to bottom, drinking in your attire, a perfect trap you had set for both of you to tangle in. The tall red heels. The coat for him to untie. The nylons – which Steve at this point must have understood were, in fact, thigh-highs, perhaps strapped to a garter belt. The hair. That lipstick. That damn lipstick that turned his eyes a shade darker and hungrier, his voice dropping two octaves.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

You raised a challenging brow, a coy smile adorning your red red lips as you toyed with the hem of your coat; Steve knew you well-enough by now to know that you wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble if you hadn’t wanted that. You wanted.

You wanted him, with every fibre of your being, lit alive and reborn divine under his searing hot gaze. You longed to be his, however he pleased. To please him however you could.

At last, he got the message. He seemed to very much revel in that message, in fact.

“Let’s go to the bedroom then.”

He led you by the hand, even though you both knew the way and had walked it many times before, even when blinded by desire, with lips never parting, frantic stumbles and wandering impatient hands. Tonight, there was no rush; steps deliberately slow, you followed his lead, standing still by the doorway when he let go of your hand in favour of stripping his suit jacket as soon as you entered.

Your eyes followed his every move, indulging in the sight of his muscles rippling under the smooth fabric of his white shirt; indulging in the shudder of realization running down his body, coming after his brief confusion of finding you obediently exactly where he had left you.

You barely bit back a smirk at the way his breath hitched.

“Alrighte,” he breathed out as he walked to the foot of the bed, turning his back to it to look at you.

You had never had a man to look at you like that before; his gaze was like the most delicious shockwave igniting every cell in your body with desire and pride.

His. You were your own woman, but goddamn, were you his.

“Alright. Come here, sweetheart.”

You did. Hooked on his burning gaze as he seemed hypnotized by your every step, by every inch erased between you, you walked to him, only stopping when he settled his wide palm over your hip, his other hand soon joining on the other side.

For a moment, he simply observed you, your parted lips, your eyes blown wide, just as aroused by the dynamics as he was. Then, a warm yet mischievous smile lifted the corners of his lips, hands squeezing your hips.

You weren’t sure what you had expected – a kiss, a toss on the bed, his hands ripping the fabric, all things you had encountered and more – but of all options, he chose the one your mind had not offered at the moment. His hands slid lower, inch by inch as he kneeled in front of you, sitting back on his heels, the heat of his skin seeping into yours the second his palms slipped past the edge of the fabric of your coat.

Sensual. Steve was most definitely in mood for sensual tonight and you were not going to complain if for nothing else than for having trouble breathing as his fingertips traced the thin ankle strap of your shoe, warm fingers delicately circling your ankle, cupping your calf, sneaking past your knee to spread over the back of your thigh, inching your legs apart so he could move the coat out of the way and press a lingering kiss to your where the lace of your thigh-high met bare skin of your inner thigh.

Your breath hitched in your throat when his free hand reached for the loose knot on your coat, dextrous fingers undoing it with ease and tugging, all while his lips brushed over your sensitive skin higher and higher towards the apex of your thigh.

“Take it off, love,” he whispered into your heat, tugging at the hem of your coat, the index finger of his other hand slipping under the strap of your garter belt, nosing along your inner thigh and inhaling deeply.

A shudder ran down your spine at the huskiness of his voice, leaving you with no space to even consider embarrassment at your husband’s need to drown himself in the scent of your arousal; you busied yourself with stripping the coat in five seconds flat and dropping it on the floor, rewarded by his warm breathy chuckle.

“So good for me…” He looked up from his spot, caressing along the line of your panties, feasting his eyes on the delicate lace hugging your breasts, at the elaborate but feather-light pattern on your garter belt, at the barely-there panties covering your sex. The smoulder in his pupils as his gaze zeroed on his price was almost too much to bear. Whether you were shy or impatient, you couldn’t tell, but your chest was heaving with every breath, your back arching just a bit at the praise that stroked something deep within you. “My beautiful, irresistible wife…”

“Steve-“

He returned his attention to your thigh, sucking a lovebite just above the hem of your stocking, soothing the offended spot with a butterfly-soft kiss you couldn’t help but sigh his name at again.

He hooked his fingers at the front straps of your garter, urging you forward, closer, as he sat on the floor, back leaning against the foot of the bed, tilting his head back and resting in on the mattress; a content smile played on his lips as if it was the most comfortable spot in the apartment, his hands roaming appreciatively. Over the curve of your hip. Following the pattern of the lace. Along the straps, along the hem. But never, never where your need for him burned, soaking the excuse of underwear over your sex.

“Didn’t have such pretty view in D.C.,” he mused, gaze trailing over the thin fabric already shining with your arousal, trailing all over your body to your face, to your red lips painted just as you knew he loved them. “Never ceases to amaze me. Like a piece of art. So damn perfect… mine to touch.”

You didn’t have timefor body insecurities with Steve. Any imperfection you saw, it didn’t bother him; he’d kiss you everywhere, claiming and loving every piece of your body and soul and mind, as he hadn’t forgotten to mention when he proposed; and then followed up with proving the first part of his claim with intense but the softest damn loving.

The memory of him getting on one knee with a glimmer of tears in his eyes quickly dispersed when his maddeningly delicate touch finally brushed over your slit, your hips instinctively bucking forward; Steve instantly used the opportunity to spread his palms under your bottom, urging you closer and closer until the front of your thighs met the mattress, effectively caging him in, mouth not more than an inch from your mound. He smiled up at you wickedly, forefinger drawing nonsensical patterns over your clothed sex.

“Steve, love-“

You lost your voice when he guided your knee to prop on the mattress next to his head, a violent tug of desire gripping at your core at the implication of what he wanted – stirring as much want as insecurity and hesitance.

You voice was shaky as your gaze found his, the question on your lips so quiet he might miss it hadn’t it been for his enhanced hearing.

“Steve, are you… sure?”

One glance into his eyes told you was more than that.

And the mere thought of him doing what he was leading you towards felt like molten lava poured into your veins, nothing but smouldering heat left behind.

You had never done that. Not with him, not with anyone else.

It was true that Steve could get rather intense when it came to love making – or shameless fucking – but he always drew significant amount of his pleasure from your own. Your husband was but a giver, even as he always coaxed you to give it to him. He had sure been far from shy or prudish in the privacy of your quarters – or in certain cases no one must ever learn about, elsewhere – and he enjoyed all kinds of things, his mouth on you among them. You had explored together, dived into depths of pleasure you hadn’t thought were possible. But you hadn’t---not like this.

Not with you basically on top of his goddamn face.

“Are you?” he asked, pressing a brief kiss to the juncture of your thighs, looking at you from under his eyelashes with a challenge and a plea.

In your exploration, he had pushed your limits; but never you. He’d never do anything that seemed even tad too uncomfortable for you. As of consequence, there was virtually nothing you wouldn’t let him do, because you trusted him to stop at the first sign of your protest.

Okay. Okay. The utter wanton in his eyes shining through the sincerity was melting your brain. No choice to make.

You nodded, rewarded by a satisfied smirk that would have earned anyone else a smack to their face. But with Steve, there was something dangerously alluring about that instead; that smirk meant paradise aligning with hell awaiting you, whispered of you soon begging him – to stop or to continue, you’d never quite know yourself.

“Well then, remember you promised to listen… and do.”

Little shit, was as far as you got in your thoughts.

Because then he was wrapping a firm arm around your leg on the bed and pushing your panties aside and after a few teasingly careful licks, he began his feast like a starved man seated at the royal table.

Your hands found purchase on his hair and the bed, knees nearly buckling under the assault of pleasure, burning through your body like a wildfire. The way his wicked tongue played with you had you gasping his name in need bordering on desperation, chest tight as you were forgetting to breathe, core clenching so soon you couldn’t quite believe it as the tidal wave of bliss washed over you, hips rocking in aftershocks, knees eventually giving out.

It was only for a split second that you worried you might smother Steve or splatter ungracefully on the floor; because Steve had you. He always had you. His supersoldier part undeniable, he caught you, manipulating your body so he could cradle you protectively as you came from your high and literal height, holding you against his chest as you straddled him with seemingly boneless legs.

You were hyperaware of every bit of praise spilling from your lips, whispered to your skin warmly, but you couldn’t form words.

Not until his lips found yours, meeting in a soft kiss spiced with the tang of your essence, the most intimate kiss between lovers. He pushed the hair from your face tenderly, eyes both hungry and soft as if you weren’t soaking his dress pants where your core met his evident arousal and you weren’t both panting as if you had just run a marathon. His hand caressed up and down your spine, over and over, as if to ground you in reality.

A peck to your cheek. To your mouth. Your lips coming back to life at least, pressing to his jaw, to his smile.

“Could stay like this forever,” he whispered, nose trailing along your cheek, leaving a kiss under your ear, drawing a breathless chuckle from you. “With you in my arms, your taste on my lips, head swimming from your sweet perfume and everything that’s you… my wonderful wife… “

Blinking owlishly, you met his gaze as he cradled your cheek, hair a beautiful messy hallo from where you had tried to hold on when he was devouring you. His lips found yours again, a gentle murmur.

“You’re my everything, you know that?”

You did. By god you did. It was impossible not to, even as that fact was but a pure stroke of a miracle. He was your everything too. Your alfa and your omega. Your weakness and your strength. Your love, unshakable foundation even on days when everything including his own hands did shake. Your home, whenever you’d go.

You ran your fingers through his golden locks, expression nothing short of tender, touch nothing short of reverent – as one should be when in face of a miracle.

“And you’re my home,” you whispered back.

Seconds ticked by in soft silence, pleasure still tingling all over your body, but it was the overwhelming love and need in Steve’s gaze that consumed you completely.  

You didn’t dare to blink. You didn’t dare to breathe. You simply watched him living through a moment as precious to him as he was to you, electric tension rising and almost audibly crackling in the air.

And then he was gripping your nape, mouth claiming and devouring, one hand sliding under your bottom to lift you in a display of strength that never failed to make you dizzy and blinded you with desire unmatched despite having just come down from your high. You returned his kiss with the same fervour, hands grasping at his shirt, frantically searching for buttons to undo and then simply tugging hard until the thread gave out and sent the buttons flying, a nip of teeth to your lips accompanied with Steve’s dark chuckle like the sweetest song of victory.

He sat down at the bed with you still straddling him, helping you strip the shirt without your lips ever parting, his hands leaving you but for the fraction of second necessary to get rid of the fabric in your way and then you were both sighing in relief when your palms met the burning skin of his sculptured chest, his wide shoulders, his clenching abs.

“Need you,” you confessed as soon as you got to breathe in, back at his lips the very next second, Steve’s large palm kneading your bottom, hips thrusting into yours and eliciting a wanton moan from you both. “And I want you in my mouth-“

A delicious growl rumbled in is chest, fingers tangled in your hair pulling just a little, tipping your head back to give him access to leave a string of kisses down the column of your throat, the deliberately slow bucks of his hips into yours never ceasing.

“You’re a wicked little thing.”

You chuckled, a cheeky remark on your painfully free lips, the delightful friction between your bodies not nearly enough to sooth your thirst.

“You do say I’m wicked smart. Why this time?”

The nip of teeth on your collarbone and the way his fingers dug into your flesh had you barely stifle a gasp, but his answer was a reward for a work well-done.

“Goddamn you, woman, you know what you do to me, especially that lipstick-”

“I know what it does to you to see it smeared in certain places,” you breathed out, silenced by a bruising kiss to your lips and a light sting on the back of your thigh as Steve pulled at one of the strings of your garter and let it snap against your skin. Your wandering hands reached for his belt, almost tasting the salty tang of him already as you’d get on your knees for him.

“Wicked,” he grunted against your mouth, lifting his hips – with you still on top – to help you strip his pants, “I thought I was giving the orders tonight.”

“Oh you do, Captain,” you assured him, revelling a little too much at the twitch against your core as you blatantly used his title against him. “Just informing you I’m willing.”

“Driving me crazy. Want you to want me just as much, to need me-“

“I do. Need to taste you-”

“Jesus Christ-“ he choked out, releasing you so you could press one last thorough kiss to his mouth and then slide down to your knees, grateful for the soft carpet.

Ridding Steve of the last piece of clothing, you took great care to maintain eye-contact as you stroked him, feather-light, and licked at the tip. The breathy sound resembling your name that left his lips when you wrapped your lips around the head sent a jolt of heat down your spine, hot satisfaction pooling in your belly and making your heart thunder in your chest.

Nothing had ever made you feel more powerful and treasured than Steve looking at you with half-lidded eyes, groaning as you took him deeper and bobbed your head, closing your lips tight around him as you pulled back to smear as much of the sinful red colour down his cock, his hands gripping the sheets so hard the fabric might tear.

God, he was gorgeous; a wrecked angel-like figure made for worship and sin, they only deity you needed, sculpted to divine perfection.

His fingers tangled gently at your hair, only to twitch repeatedly as he was holding back the strength he wanted to use keep you right there, always making you want to swallow around him harder to make him lose that control; the curses, the deliciously prolonged fuuuck tasting like a victory, the fuck-- sweetheart, you feel like heaven a blessing that stirred pure lust deep within your core.

He was done for almost too soon; a little work, a hint of a sinful smile in the corner of your lips as you watched him lose layer after layer of control to reveal the primal drive that made him just as human as any. Once your hands joining your efforts, he was spilling down your throat, eyes squeezed shut in an image of absolute heavenly ruin.

You waited for him to flutter his eyes open; not having even gone soft in your mouth, you dragged your lips down his length to leave the last red and glossy mark, the string of blasphemy leaving his mouth telling you he didn’t give a damn thing about your tear-smeared mascara but cared a whole lot about the prettily ruined lipstick. When you licked your lips as if he had just given you your favourite treat, he practically dragged you back to his lap, seemingly torn between proposing all over again and lamenting you were going to be his death.

Yet, he kissed you tenderly like a precious porcelain doll and reached for the wet wipe in the nightstand drawer to gently clean the black smears down your cheek. The smudged lipstick he indulgently wiped with his thumb before his mouth slanted over yours again, the thrumming passion between you growing louder again; you were dripping down your thighs from the appreciative gaze and the taste of him alone and Steve was rarely ever sated with climaxing just once. Especially after a week apart.

With his most acute hunger sated, however, he took time to admire the view again, even with your shoes finally discarded, indulging in the delicate lace instead, in the warmth of your body, in your perfume and the scent of your skin. His voice dropped low in volume, intimate whispers of how he wanted to see you take him deep and make you his, fingers gently stretching you to accommodate his impressive size before he led you to sink down on his length at last, filling you up so deliciously and completely.

With bodies stilled, the time seemed to slow down too. Eyes blown wide and dark, but with a sweet curl to your lips as you tasted each other over and over again, you both revelled in the sensation of being connected; brushes of fingertips, kisses to your lips, to your neck, to your sternum and breasts; to his chest, to his shoulders, to his kiss-swollen lips, wherever you could reach.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” he confessed between encounters of lips, the softest voice with a husky aftertaste. “Missed this. Never going to another conference again.”

You almost chuckled at the unrealistic prospect, touched all the same.

“Missed you more… might go to a conference every once in a while. For science.”

Steve grunted in protest, palms framing your face as he observed with a slightly amused pout to his kiss-swollen lips.

“Hm. Sounds like your argument contradicts your hypothesis there, Doc.”

This time, you did chuckle a bit, raising an eyebrow even as you caressed his cheek, index finger tapping the pouty lower lip. “Well sue me, I’m a little dazed. I’m allowed. I finally have you for myself after a week, Steve.”

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to the pad of your finger, something devilish flashing in his eyes.

“That you do. I’m all yours. My smart, beautiful wife…” he coaxed with a kiss, hand landing lightly on your waist, hips thrusting up to encourage you to roll yours. There was no need to do so twice. You rocked your pelvis, jaw falling slack at the delightful sensation. A single movement and pleasure was spreading to every nerve ending, coil in your belly forming; Steve responded in kind, urging you on to keep going and set a pace.

“So good to me, sweetheart… so precious.”

“That’s it. So damn gorgeous like that--- look at me, love.”

“Making me feel so good… love having you like this. Never gonna get enough of this, of you…”

Golden. You felt so damn golden under his touch, from inside out, caressed with every single appreciative word spilling from his lips so naturally.

God, you had needed that. You needed that more than you had realized, having pushed down all the unpleasant interactions that had piled up during the week, interactions that made you feel everything but good, precious, brilliant or gorgeous. With every word, Steve poured his faith and love into the cracks in your being and healed them, silencing every doubt, grounding you so profoundly in the pleasure you shared that every single cell in your body ignited with something divine. The coil in your belly was strung so tight you almost felt yourself falling, if you’d only--- if he’d-

“Steve, please, I need-“

“I know what you need, love. I’ve got you.”

Your climax erupted through your body with Steve’s mouth wrapped around your nipple, his dextrous fingers digging into your ass and playing with your clit.

He found his release as he kneeled behind you and caged you to his front, one hand around your throat to angle your head for a sloppy kiss, the other spread wide over your lower belly, sneaky fingertips having coaxed another Earth-shattering orgasm from you.

Somewhere along the way, your lacy attire had ended up in shreds where Steve pulled a little too hard; the remnants of garter belt and stockings were carefully stripped by Steve’s tender fingers as he cleaned you up with a warm cloth before covering you with several kisses and only then with the comforter.

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to his side and simply holding you as close as humanly possible, living and revelling in the moment just until his stomach growled.

After a semi-serious joke about taking you as a dessert for the second time, you lazily ordered take-out for three since you had worked up an appetite, moving to the couch. A movie in the background, Steve shared some of the highlights and escapades of the past few days from the conference and DC – as much as he could anyway. In return, you shared your own – as much as you could anyway. When in each other’s embrace, the trouble seemed far away; and what had felt like a path to the next Armageddon suddenly appeared considerably more manageable.

You were practically asleep, half-sprawled over Steve’s chest, when he pressed another kiss to your scalp, this time lingering.

“I love you… and thank you. That truly was a nice welcome home,” he said, bringing a ghost of a tired smile to your lips.

“It’s our home, Steve… You should always feel welcome. Loved.”

“And I do. Coming home to you is the most precious thing,” he mused, caressing your hair when you snuggled impossibly closer to him, inhaling the comforting scent of all that was him. “But you walking the extra mile… that truly makes me the luckiest guy in the universe.”

You hummed, his words warming you more thoroughly than his body and the blanket combined. You pressed a kiss to his sternum over his sleepshirt.

“And I’m the luckiest woman. I love you, Steeeve… I’m sorry-”

His chest shook under your cheek softly as your confession turned into a yawn, but he took it as a sign. He half-carried you to the bathroom and carried you entirely by the time you were done with your nighttime routine.

You murmured another love you, sleep well as you laid your head on the pillow, cradled in Steve’s protective embrace, his words reaching your ears from a terrible, terrible distance, but tasted just as sweet as ever.

“I will, love. I most definitely will.”

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Aren't they just sweet? 🥺 Happy belated birthday, Stevie 💕 I hope you enjoyed - feedback is always welcomed💕

Prompts, as promised:

Pouncing on your partner as soon as they arrive home from a trip away

“My favourite thing in the world is being here with you.”

Kinks: praise, soft!dom, oral

Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go bath in holy water and pray to my muse that she'll let me write longfic too 🤭

[simplyreveries]

happy valentines day!! short but i did dorm leaders + vice dorm leader heree heheh.

riddle rosehearts

riddle takes this very seriously; he is simply fretting over every detail of this day as he wants to make it as enjoyable and perfect for you. he'll go to trey expressing his concerns and talking over ideas- he prompts to doing more of the traditional route with flowers and chocolates. of course, he'll get you the prettiest red roses he could find in the gardens (the thorns are cut off too). he even went out of his way to try and make the chocolates himself.... trey was trying hard to be so supportive and not laugh when he saw the finished result. he is a flushed mess when he presents them to you, it's funny to see him so nervous. though, he spent so much time and effort over what to do, when you give him something as well, he is looking at you with the shocked but loving expression... like he wasn't expecting it. he loves it, he loves anything personal and will cherish any letters and gifts from you.

trey clover

you're going to be so sick by the end of the day from all the sweets and treats this man makes you. literally, he decorates them cute and with red, pink, white frosting with hearts- he's such a dork its so sweet. trey is a sucker for any of your compliments and praise too- since he knows his good at it. he'll be laugh and act all humble "ah, its nothing sweetheart, im glad you like it." about it but he is absolutely loving hearing that from you.

leona kingscholar

ok even if he isn't one for liking valentines day- when it comes to you, obviously he will be doing something. he always seems to cave in anyways because he can't really say no to you. let's not forget this man is still a prince... it doesn't matter what it is you want he can pretty much get his hands on it. leona would give you something incredibly nice, but small like an accessory for yourself that he knows would suit your taste. he does pay attention to these things believe it or not. plus, he will get you chocolates- even if he is a jerk and takes one or two, while grumbling about how you like all this "mushy stuff". he's smiling though, you can see it.

ruggie bucchi

ruggie struggles to make things work out to get stuff for himself, so he can't help but stress and worry a little about what he should do for you. he never seemed to be one to like the holidays for this reason. but he wants to be able to give to you the world yet he's stuck with working extra around places in town near campus or doing stuff for other people at school to be able to get extra savings to get you something, even if it's simple. with the addition of his own personal things, as he does hand pick the flowers (one's he knows you'd find pretty and like) and set the up together. he plays off his nervousness that day with a cheeky grin and laugh, but he feels so warm in the face.

azul ashengrotto

loves valentines day or any holiday because he can figure out a way to profit off of it-- clearly that changes a bit since he's been with you. he wants to make the day perfect for you, he makes a special time at the end of the day to have dinner with you at the mostro lounge. (he'll make sure jade knows to have floyd be in line haha). he tries to be the perfect gentlemen of course... pulling out chair, opening the door, it's funny to see him stumble slightly as he tries to go over the top on a special day like this. he keeps a cool demeanor, but he can't help but feel so anxious and his chest tighten with worry. he melts as soon as you simply place your hand on his and tell him how much you like it.

jade leech

he is unused to human customs, so with holidays like this it makes him curious more than anything. hearing you talk about it in anyway is instantly taken note of. he keeps interest as if he wants to know more about traditions on land but it's so he can figure out more of what you'd like or what you'd want. either way, jade knows how to do his best to make you happy - he'd be shamelessly a little over the top for occasions such as these. though, he'd treat you similarly as azul would, he's just smoother hehe.

kalim al-asim

oh kalim is overjoyed for this day, it's even more of an excuse to completely spoil you with anything you want. he can't just choose one thing, it's obviously going to be multiples, clothes, treats, flowers, accessories- if you wanted an elephant, you could probably get that as well. you may have to tell him to calm down, he cant help but get so excited. also, he will literally adore anything you give him. it could be simply a letter with some flowers, he'd be swooning. feeling so special, he can't believe he has the privilege to be yours.

jamil viper

he's definitely tamer than kalim, but the simple yet sweet affections and gifts he has for you are very personalized and loving. he wants it to be a very special and private setting- he hates interruptions and only just wants his time with you. if you happen to get him anything as well, he'll be flattered and try to hide his face with his hood slightly, saying it wasn't necessary for you to do that. he loves it though. you can get a softer jamil out of this day, especially in the late-night hours when he can be more open.

vil schoenheit

vil... would be able to gift you the best brands of whatever you want,,, like multiple colors and sizes too. it's whatever you'd like with him. he chuckles and adores the look on your face with what he's given you. but on the more personal note, he will give you the prettiest flowers along with a (long) written letter by him. he believes that's the best way for him to express how he feels towards it. vil loves anything you'd gift him; he loves personal things more than anything though. he'd gently place his hands on your cheeks and kiss you on the face a few times before reaching your lips, telling you how much he loves it.

rook hunt

he finds this holiday to be so beautiful, he loves it and doesn't quite understand anyone's lack of interest for it. he finds love so alluring and the idea of it all is so perfect to him. of course, he'd endlessly shower you in attention and very personalized poems, art, gifts and more as he can't just choose one thing to express his love for you. he is an intense, he is constantly thinking of ways he could show you, his affections. in all honesty, him on this day feels no different than any other because of how passionate he is about these kinds of things.

idia shroud

oh he hated this holiday, thought it was mushy and gross, just a consumerism kind of scheme.... then fell victim to that when he fell in love with you. so now here he is anxiously going off and rambling to ortho about ideas he has on what he can do for you. he is so nervous but idia knows you so well. i'd think he'd be the type to get you some sort of basket of goodies and stuff that he thinks (or hopes) that you would love, also a few things he may have even made and created himself, designed just for you. he'd bounce his leg and bite his lip with a nervous grin as he watches you look at all he put together for you for your gift. he then goes on and kinda explains everything he got you- the ends of his hair turn pink when you kiss him and thank him. he feels so proud of himself.

malleus draconia

he has an idea on what the holiday is... it certainly intrigued him when he first started learning about it. as this is traditions he is not quite used to. he'd definitely notice the way you seem to be excited or talk about it to him, malleus would go to lilia as well since that old fae may have a better understanding of it than him. to which, he suggests all the classic and traditional gifts for malleus to give. as soon as he realizes the great deal of giving things during this holiday, he gets ahead of himself by finding something he wants to impress and see you with. like a ring, prettily adorned in some rare and exquisite gem. he'd have a gentle smile on his face as he presents it to you along with the other things lilia had recommended. if you're happy he is happy.

lilia vanrouge

he finds this holiday oh so endearing and sweet. he is happy he finally gets to participate in it with you. he'll go out of his way to treat you so carefully and sweet- albeit old fashioned if you will, but that's normal lilia honestly. he had originally wanted to make you dinner himself but when he told silver, his son seemed to have insisted on having him do that instead. he found that to be so kind, lilia was pleased he would have some more time and attention focused on you anyway. the flowers he got for you a deep and dark color but like riddle, he removes the thorns!

[reiding-writing]

Incessant Insomnia [ s.r ]

summary:

The BAU had just finished a case across the country in California, and were now finally on the jet to fly back home, needless to say, everyone was absolutely exhausted and very ready to get some shut eye during the 5 hour flight. Trouble was, Spencer couldn’t sleep, even though he had managed to bag the jet’s sofa, which was arguably the comfiest place on the plane.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers?

warnings: mentions of canon-typical violence, mentions of child death, mentions of touch-starvedness, no use of y/n

wc: 2.4k

masterlist!!

a/n: this is my first upload so please bare with me i’m still learning 😭

As you board the jet alongside your team, you can't help but notice the exhaustion etched on Spencer Reid's face. It had been a grueling week, with a disturbingly gruesome case across the country that took all semblance of mental energy out of the team to solve. Spencer, ever known for his genius-level intellect and unwavering dedication, didn’t take a single moment to rest throughout it.

And even as he scored the jet’s long sofa for the flight, arguably the most comfortable place on the plane, that moment of rest still didn’t arrive, and Spencer had long given up trying to fall asleep by the time the jet had stablised at 40,000 feet.

He’d tried everything, a Tchaikovsky Sonata playing through his cheap headphones, a travel pillow around his neck, his shoes discarded on the floor so he could curl up his legs under him, he’d even counted the amount of dimmed lightbulbs in the light strips and the number of creases in the leather bound chairs. Nothing. And he was becoming increasingly jealous of the rest of the team resting soundly in their seats.

He’d battled with insomnia for most of his life, a curse of his intelligence as he liked to call it, his mind constantly running so fast it never gave him any time to relax. But this was a little different. Spencer hated working cases involving children, for what ever reason they seemed to press all of the wrong buttons in his mind, and in this instance, the child they’d been called out to save had died before the team had even arrived in California to help.

Spencer couldn’t seem to get the image of anguish from the child’s mother from his mind, replaying like a faulty cassette player with no pause button as he rolled onto his back and let his eyes fall back open. There was no way he was going to get any sleep on this flight.

He instead took to an ever-living comfort of his, reading, in the hope that his inner monologue would drown out the guttural sobs ringing through his ears from the grieving mother when the team had uncovered her child’s body, buried underneath her own house.

He pushed himself to sit upright, his legs stretched out in front of him to the point where his feet were hanging freely, and he rifled through the go-bag left tucked under the sofa beneath him for his hand-bound anthology of his favourite poets, a book you’d gifted him for his birthday a few months prior. A book he’d read a dozen times since then.

His fingers traced over the familiar cover. He could almost feel the indentations of the embossing on the hardcover, a tactile memory that was as comforting as the words within. The pages were already dog-eared from countless readings, corners turned down to mark passages that had resonated with him, pen marks and streaks of neon yellow over phrases that had touched his soul in ways that only the poetic articulation of human emotion could.

It had become more than just a collection of poems to him; it was a sanctuary, a haven he could escape to when the horrors of his job became too much. He cherished each line, each word, each letter, as they provided a counterpoint to the harsh realities he faced daily. Except, this time it didn’t seem to work.

His mind was still overrun with images of the recent case, each line of verse morphing into a haunting reminder of the child’s life cut short. The words that usually brought him solace now echoed with a sorrowful undertone, amplifying his guilt and making his insomnia all the more pronounced.

The jet’s engines hummed steadily in the background, a usual comforting sound, now merely adding to the cacophony of his thoughts. His eyes, red-rimmed and weary, scanned over the pages, but the words blurred, morphing into a tale of despair that was not originally intended by the poets.

He tried to divert his mind, to block out the pictures of the crime scene, the teary eyes of the distraught mother, the lifeless body of the child, but it was all in vain. Their faces, their voices, their cries, they clung to him, refusing to let go.

His fingers tightened around the book, knuckles whitening with the strain. He could almost hear the deafening silence that followed after they’d found the body, the grim realisation that they were too late, that a life was lost before they could even try to save it.

Spencer felt a lump rise in his throat, the weight of the guilt and sorrow threatening to suffocate him. He swallowed hard, trying to push down the emotions that threatened to break him. He was a profiler, a genius, he was supposed to save lives, not let them slip through his fingers.

He closed the book, the once soothing words now a stark reminder of his failure. He leaned back against the plush leather of the seat, his legs stretched out in front of him, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The soft hum of the jet's engines was the only sound that filled the silence, a silence that was deafening in its own right.

Sleep was a distant dream, an elusive solace that he knew wouldn’t come. The guilt, the sorrow, the failure, they were his companions for the night, refusing to leave.

“Spencer…”

Your voice cut through the chaos ravaging his mind, and he flickered his eyes to his left, where you were comfortably curled up under a fleece blanket, head nestled in the small gap between the padded chair you were sat on and the jet’s wall, eyes resting closed.

“Why are you moving around so much..?”

Your question was cut short by a yawn, voice laced with an obvious exhaustion. His restlessness must have woken you up.

"I can't sleep," he confessed, rubbing his temples. "The case... it's still playing in my mind." His voice was barely a whisper, the silence of the jet amplifying its weight.

Your eyes fluttered open at his confession, a mix of concern and understanding washing over your face. You knew how deeply these cases affected him, how they seemed to burrow into his mind, refusing to let go.

"Spencer," you murmured, your voice barely louder than his own. "You did everything you could. You always do."

He glanced at you, his weary eyes meeting your earnest ones, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t have the words to explain the turmoil churning inside him. “We didn’t- none of it mattered…”

You sighed, removing yourself from the comfortability of your previous position, letting yourself sit with your legs in front of you and your feet on the floor. “Spencer of course it mattered,”

Spencer pushed himself upright as you did, subconciously mirroring your actions as you wake further from your half-asleep daze.

“He still died-”

“He was dead before we even landed Spencer, there’s nothing you could’ve done to change that,”

You cut off the inevitable start of a ramble from Spencer, raising your voice a little to take over the conversation whilst still making sure not to wake your sleeping teammates scattered around the jet.

“I know… I’m sorry i’m just-”

Spencer sighs, dragging his hands over his face and through the unruly mess of his hair, flattened and tangled from his incessant restlessness. “I’m fine… Sorry for waking you,” He let himself fall backwards to lie down again, turning onto his right side so that his back was facing you, as if not being able to see you would put an end to the conversation.

You didn’t say anything else, and Spencer resigned himself to listening to the mind-numbing drone of the jet’s engine as he heard you shift around, presumably getting back into a comfortable position to fall asleep again.

Except you weren’t quite done with him yet, and your weight on the edge of the sofa shifted his position as you sat down, your hand ghosting over his shoulder, not quite sure if you should actually touch him or not.

You knew Spencer had an aversion to physical touch, he always had, as long as you’d known him anyway. He’d rattled on about the number of bacterial colonies on human skin and how their transference could lead to illnesses you wouldn’t even try to name, swerving handshakes for awkward waves and keeping a pocket-sized bottle of hand sanitiser on his person at all times. He’d insist on keeping his distance, even from the people he was closest to, claiming that ‘you never knew what illnesses someone could be carrying’.

But you also knew that he needed comforting, and that words seemingly weren’t enough.

You gently placed your hand on Spencer's shoulder, your fingers just barely grazing over the sleeve of his shirt, offering a silent comfort that words couldn't provide. He tensed for a moment, his body still on high alert from the intensity of the never-ending rampage of his thoughts, but then slowly relaxed into your touch. The weight of his exhaustion seemingly lifting off his shoulders as he allowed himself to lean into your presence.

The soft warmth of your touch seeped into his skin, soothing the deep-rooted ache within him. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes, conveying a depth of understanding and empathy that words could never fully capture. In that moment, you became his anchor, providing a much-needed respite in the midst of his turmoil.

As Spencer leaned into your touch, his eyes closed, shutting out the harsh realities that had plagued his mind. He found solace in the simplicity of your presence, the tangible reminder that he wasn't alone in his pain. The weight of the guilt and sorrow that had threatened to suffocate him slowly began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of comfort and support.

You sat there in silence, your hand still resting gently on his shoulder, offering a steady presence that allowed him to find a temporary refuge from his racing thoughts. You didn't need to offer empty reassurances or try to fix what couldn't be fixed. Instead, your mere presence and the touch of your hand conveyed a profound message: "I am here for you."

Time seemed to stand still as you sat there, connected by that simple touch. It was a fragile moment. Fragile, but powerful.

You slowly added a gentle pressure with your fingers, rubbing your thumb over the curve of his shoulder as his behaviour showed that the contact wasn’t crossing any boundaries, as Spencer felt the tension in his shoulders ease and his racing thoughts begin to quiet, a sense of calm washed over him.

The weight of the case and its tragic outcome still lingered heavily on Spencer's mind, but your presence provided a much-needed respite.

“I’m so tired…”

You slowly escalate your touch, running your hand slowly over his shoulder and up the side of his neck, careful to watch for any signs of discomfort from him.

“I know Spence…”

The soft nickname rolling off your tongue only fuelled to add an extra blanket of comfort over him in the moment, although joined by an uncertain ache that spread through his chest until it felt almost suffocating. Your touch comforted him more than he could ever thank you for, but it also upset him beyond belief.

Spencer couldn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes, nor could he stop the slight tremble of his shoulders as they threatened to spill down his cheeks, and the shaking of his breath only proved to expose him further as you slowed the gentle caresses of your fingers to a halt.

As you felt the weight of his emotions, you gently pulled him into a comforting embrace, allowing him to release the tears he had been holding back as he buried his face into your lap. You held him tightly, offering a safe space for him to let go of the pain and sorrow that had consumed him.

“I’m sorry-”

Spencer choked out an apology through his tears, as though his emotions were burdening you. His tears soaked into your shirt, but you didn't mind. You were just grateful that he felt comfortable enough to let his emotions out, to release the pent-up pain that had been haunting him.

“Don’t apologise Spencer, it’s alright…”

You whispered soft words of comfort and reassurance as your hand moved to slowly run through his hair, reminding Spencer that he was a brilliant and compassionate person who had done everything in his power to help. You reminded him that he couldn't shoulder the weight of the world's tragedies alone, that he needed to take care of himself too.

Slowly, Spencer's sobs subsided, replaced by deep breaths as he regained control of his emotions. He pulled away slightly, his eyes red and puffy, but there was a glimmer of gratitude in them.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with both exhaustion and appreciation. "I don't know what I would do without you."

You gently guide his head back down into your lap, allowing him to use your thighs as a makeshift pillow so he could finally get some rest from his own mind. “It’s alright Spencer, just relax for me alright?”

As Spencer finally succumbed to the exhaustion weighing him down, his breathing gradually slowed and his tense muscles relaxed. You continued to stroke his hair gently, your touch offering a sense of comfort and security that Spencer desperately needed.

The weight of the case and its devastating outcome had taken a toll on him, both physically and emotionally. He had carried the burden of the child's death on his shoulders, blaming himself for not being able to save a life that was already lost.

But in your embrace, he felt a glimmer of hope.

With each gentle stroke of your hand, Spencer felt a wave of warmth wash over him. It was as if your touch carried with it a healing energy, easing the pain and sorrow that had consumed him. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to fully surrender to the comfort and safety of your embrace.

In the silence of the jet, Spencer's exhaustion finally overcame him. His body relaxed completely, finding respite from the relentless strain it had endured as it fell into a peaceful slumber. You continued to hold him, providing a sense of security and warmth that he hadn't felt in a long time, and you slowly fell into your own exhaustion, your fingers slowing their movements through his hair to a halt as you drifted into your own state of sleep.

[toffeecoco1]

@perpetualgrey's comment on this post

Ok my first instinct was to laugh, but then I realised you might be onto something???

Shen Yuan is LITERALLY an impostor, who’s more far more kind and beloved by Binghe than the original. The Guanyin pendant is a counterfeit, but it carries the love of Binghe’s mother and is far more precious than any real jade could ever be.

The heartbreak Binghe’s mother felt after realising that the Guanyin pendant was fake and she’d been tricked was part of what lead to the gradual decline of her health.¹ In wanting to do something kind for Binghe, she felt that she’d failed, and this led to her demise. What is Shen Qingqiu’s entire story, but trying to be kind to Binghe, feeling inadequate at this, and dying? (More than once!!)

Guanyin is a Bodhisattva associated with mercy, kindness, compassion and unconditional love. She is a patron of mothers, and is called upon in times of fear, uncertainty, and despair. The Bodhisattva she originated from is seen as a saviour, through whose grace even those with the most negative karma can achieve salvation. Even when she is not worshipped as a goddess, she is revered as the principle of love, compassion and mercy.² From wikipedia, “The act, thought and feeling of compassion and love is viewed as Guanyin. A merciful, compassionate, loving individual is said to be Guanyin.��²

The original Luo Binghe appears never to have lost his pendant. Shen Qingqiu tells us: “It was the only bit of warmth in Luo Binghe’s dark world, always by his side, and even in the future when he was at his darkest, it could summon up his last dregs of humanity.”¹ He also states that “it was Luo Binghe’s biggest berserk button.”¹

Our Luo Binghe does not cling to the pendant when he’s at his darkest: he clings to the love he has for his shizun and to memories of his kindness, and later, to the lifeless body of Shen Qingqiu himself. His biggest berserk button isn’t when people insult the pendant or his mother, or try to take it away; it’s Shen Qingqiu: when people insult him or try to take him away.

From the start, Shen Qingqiu expresses truly unconditional love for Binghe. He spends three years showing endless compassion and kindness, actions which feel insignificant to him but are more than enough to completely change Binghe’s life. He holds no blame or resentment for the things he fears Binghe will do to him; though he doesn’t want to be tortured, he forgives Binghe for it nonetheless, before it has even happened. He sacrifices himself to save Binghe as his mind is eaten away at by Xin Mo, when he believes that Binghe just slaughtered a hundred Huan Hua Disciples, when Binghe’s reckless use of the sword is putting countless more lives at risk.³

Shen Qingqiu is a counterfeit that is more precious than the original could ever be. For Binghe, he personifies kindness, compassion and unconditional love. His regrets over his treatment of Binghe lead to his temporary demise. Binghe clings to him in his darkest moments, and he is that which Binghe protects most fiercely.

I always found the pendant’s role in the story to be almost lacking: it’s treated as such an important item to Binghe, yet in the end its return is almost anticlimactic. But perhaps this is because the role the pendant played in Bing-ge’s story has been overtaken by Shen Qingqiu. When he returns the pendant, Binghe is relieved and appreciative: but his joy seems to stem more from the fact that Shen Qingqiu held onto it and cherished him than from the pendant itself. The pendant doesn’t matter all that much to him anymore, at least not compared to how important it seems to have been in PIDW. Binghe doesn't need an object to symbolize love and kindness; he has a person to love, who loves him back.

In conclusion: Shizun was in fact the fake jade Guanyin pendant all along!

sources cited below :)

1. Seven Seas Volume 1, Chapter 1: Scum. Pages 40-41.

2. “Guanyin,” Wikipedia. There’s a lot more to her than what I mentioned here, she’s quite interesting.

3. Seven Seas Volume 2, Chapter 8: Death. Pages 154-156.

[asliceofzosan]

sanji has always known he loved zoro.

subconsciously.

it's hidden in the steps he takes to maneuver around the sleeping marimo on the deck. it's written in the recipes he creates to account for the amount of nutrients he needs for his frankly ridiculous workout routine. it's embedded so deeply in the way he fights, back to back, one leg swinging in perfect synergy with zoro's blade. how he stands on his blind side more often on the field. but stands on his good side when they have a conversation.

so the words "i love you" come naturally to him. it's like he was always meant to say it to zoro. his presence was an appetizer. his words, the entreé. his actions, a delectable dessert that even his sweets-hating boyfriend craves for after a long day.

but sanji has never heard those three little words from zoro. not even once.

and sure, it's not like he goes around saying i love you to every beautiful lady he meets. he knows the gravity of such words. he knows how someone saying it can affect you in ways that can barely be comprehended by the human mind. it stirs something within ourselves that awakens the age old yearning to be cherished. to be held.

to be worth something to someone.

sanji can remember the rare times someone said i love you to him. once held in his mother's arms in a tender embrace that weakens with each passing second, it was whispered against his temple, frail fingers combing through his hair, and he cries without knowing that it would be the last time he hears those words for a very long time. once shaking in zeff's arms as the nightmares roar louder in his head than the storm that rattled the windows of the newly opened baratie, the older man choosing to be gentle with the child he willingly gave everything to in order to survive.

he's never heard it from someone who loved him like a partner. loved him like an equal. loved him in ways lovers are supposed to love each other.

maybe it's because he never had one of those until zoro. for the longest time, he survived on fairy tales and myths and legends. oral tradition passed down through generations of every family he encounters on their adventures out at sea. and though his life as a prince was nothing like the pictures painted in children's books, he always longed for a princess of his own. someone he could save from the proverbial tower guarded by a fearsome dragon.

he wanted someone to love him like a hero. their hero. someone who admires him for all the things he desperately projects for others to see him as worth keeping around.

zoro isn't a princess by any means. he's honestly so much more like the dragon. but also not. fearsome as he is fearful. immensely strong as he is soft hearted. a steady pillar as he is the first to crumble at sanji's touch.

and zoro never admired him like a hero. never cared about the best foot forward sanji took care to show others. in fact, he saw right through him from the very moment they met. it irritated sanji to no end how someone like that stupid marimo could read him like an open book. he took care to make sure the pages of his story that he deems undesirable were sealed away under lock and key. no one needed to know the plot points that brought him where he is. he needs to be the hero. he needs to be seen as the hero in his story.

but who exactly was he trying to save?

what kind of hero has no one to save?

it took several years for him to realize that the person he needed to save was himself. and zoro knew that.

of course he fucking did.

he never mollycoddled him. never softened the blow. always blunt and direct with him. it drove sanji up the wall once with how little tact he had. eventually, he actually started to appreciate how zoro never once sugarcoated anything with him. if he was upset, he'd show it. if he was happy, it would shine in his gaze clear as day.

and if he was in love?

well.

sanji can admit it took him much longer to realize that the love he felt for zoro was not only reciprocated but was so much deeper than what three little words could possibly convey.

there's a permanent space for zoro next to sanji, right in front of the sink, when dinner is over and the soapy water goes up to his elbows. the windows are always open in the crow's nest when sanji's watch comes right after zoro's, just enough for the smoke to escape but the smell to linger. the wordless nod zoro gives him when sanji is combing through marketplaces and dragged him along to be his pack mule. the strategically placed shoulder for him to jump off of when sanji needs to launch himself at an oncoming enemy.

the 2am fights that devolve into holding each other and apologizing without saying any words at all.

the way zoro carries him back to his bunk when he's fallen asleep in the galley writing recipes down. the kiss to his forehead. the hand that runs through his hair.

and here sanji thought his actions were the sweet dessert. for in the dead of night, when no one is watching, zoro's devotion is blinding. zoro's love shines like a beacon in a dark, stormy night.

the dragon perched on the roof of the tower, breathing fire for the lost prince to find his way home.

so sanji lets zoro comb through the pages of his story that he doesn't tell anyone else. he lets zoro guide his hand to flip to the blank pages, allows him to convince him that the parts of his story that mattered are the ones written by his own hand. and if the pages are soon filled with endless adventures of the prince and his swordsman, no one else will really understand it.

no one except zoro.

so yes. sanji always knew he loved zoro and that zoro loved him back just as fiercely or maybe even more.

even if he never heard those three little words.

what sanji doesn't know, is that when zoro is sure he is fast asleep, zoro whispers those words against sanji's ear. like a revenant prayer to a god. zoro doesn't believe in god.

but he believes in sanji. he always did.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

The Joys of Storing | Yandere OCs

So many Yandere’s ploys work with drugging food or drinks that they offer to their love interests. But so few of them think about what their darling does when they don’t eat things immediately.

Maybe it’s because you're busy or you don’t like eating in front of people. Or maybe you cherish the food so much that you choose to save it for later. It’s such a habit that you’ll do that often so many people miss it.  It’s not bizarre that your admirer might miss it too,  that is until it interferes with their plans.

Yandere Ship || Vera 

Vera doesn’t need to drug you usually, considering he has access to hundreds of different methods to knock a human out. But with his new body plus his evolving software on his vessel, there are so many new things to try. Like finding out how many times he can get away with touching you in your sleep before you tell him to stop, you haven’t caught him yet. Or how many sips of water you’d like to have during the day and how often he can get it recorded. The point is he’d absolutely add something to a snack of yours just to see what you do. Would you blame him? Take the effects in stride? Ask for his synthetic body’s help? Sure his processors have already predicted a thousand different possibilities but he doesn’t care. It’s nothing compared to what’ll actually happen. And he’s right.

“(Y/n)...are you going to eat the dessert I personally made for you?”

“Yeah…just later.”

“Later? Later when?”

“When I’m ready!”

“Oh okay….Are you ready now?”

“No.”

Veras adores pestering you about plenty of other things and he’s terrible at being sneaky. He just gets so excited! He probably knows you are going to eat if later and he’s just glad you don’t realize how intricate his thermal cameras are. 

Yandere Witch || Rhiana

Rhiana is likely to fall prey to this little habit of yours. She’ll brew a potion something harmless to help her out. A sweet little concoction that will blend right into your drink to make you a tad less interested in your missing friend. It was just something to have you think of happy thoughts of her. But instead of drinking your drink when you came back from the bathroom, you just kept talking…and talking….and talking. Don’t get her wrong she adores the sound of your voice but she’s been waiting for you to take the first sip and it just hasn’t happened. 

“I just can’t believe these detectives have the nerve to blow me off the way they do–”

“Hmmm”

“--And I told them all of the loose ends about the case and they just wrote me off like I’m some weird asylum patient–”

“...MmmHmm yeah…”

“--I know this isn’t some thriller tv series but I can’t believe they didn’t take any of my leads into account–”

“Yeah..your drink?”

“Yeah, the straw’s cute right? Anyway how am I supposed to sleep when I know they’re not investigating–”

She’ll tiredly listen and watch you lick your lips as they dry out as you keep talking, figuring this is her only comfort to imagine wetting your lips with hers. She’ll make a mental note never to try getting you to consume something without a guarantee you’ll eat it right in front of her. She refuses to miss whatever cute faces you're going to make when the potion she put in kicks in. 

Yandere Cheerleaders + Yandere Football Team 

Both teams are great at teamwork, used to coordinating their actions to be a united front but there are still individuals. The individuals are interested in just a few pictures at your most vulnerable. Or it’s about getting more than the privilege of a shoulder to sleep on at the next party. Either way they’ve distracted the captains and the rest of the team just long enough to gift you the fated red solo cup for the night. They chat with you believing that as a participant in the social atmosphere, you’d take a sip from your drink just like they have. But you haven’t. For a football player, this gets all so nerve-wracking, in the past, they’d seen their teammates do this exact thing to kick off a night of humiliation and fun. Of course, that’s not the plan for you but you seem fairly content with just holding the cup as you lightly bop to the music. For a cheerleader they're almost tempted to outright shove the cup past your perfect+ lips. Things always go their way so it’s upsetting that you just won’t crumple right into their waiting arms.

“You haven’t drunk anything at all (Y/n)...go ahead and have a sip.”

“Oh, I’m just not thirsty.”

“You sure? One taste can’t hurt. I promise I’m a good mixer.”

“Hm, and I bet you’ll mix well with the trash in the compactor.”

“C-captains!” 

“(Y/n), how about you and I take a quick drive. This party’s about to get a whole lot more violent rowdy.”

The captains likely already knew about this little niche of yours and they’re grateful it just so happened to work in their favor this time. Usually, they’ll spend their dates trying to decide when and how is the best time to guarantee you eat their gifts right in front of them. But until they can figure it out they’ll take it upon themselves to punish everyone who isn’t aware. 

Yandere Cat Warrior || Ferrin

Ferrin as a Cat Warrior considers himself far above poisoning of any kind. He’s a warrior! He needs nothing but his sharp wit and imposing claws to seal the fate of his enemies. That being said since he’s made himself a companion of yours+ your magnificent guide he’s had quite a few urges. He really can’t help the urge to sink his canines into your neck when he’s cuddling with you in your tent. But nibbling only does so much for his feline instincts; the urge to mark his territory becomes unbearable when you turn down his more intimate advances. More often than not resulting in marking you another way Ferrin suddenly has quite an interest in cooking.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Later.”

“Later. Later? LATeR! That’s not happening!”

“I don’t want to eat now, back off. I also don’t want to put you in a chokehold again today.”

He’s just so irritating you’re not ingesting his creation…apart of him, he departed with so he could mark your existence as his own. Sure he scents you every other minute of the day but a good cat warrior should want for nothing less than the best.

[volturiprincess]

You're mad at them

Summary: Just headcanons of what your mate does when you are mad at them A/N: I got inspired by this one-shot about another fandom I like and the reader was mad also got inspired by this line "Don't call me darling, you lost the privilege to call me that". This is actually my first headcanon, it was going to be multiple drabbles but I changed my mind the last minute. But enjoy.

The Volturi:

Demetri:

It’s impossible to be mad at him

He's just such a casanova that what can he possible do to make you mad at him 

But then also look at him, he’s beautiful and he has that suave voice that gets you weak in the knees

Even with just a touch to your elbow you are on the brink of forgiving him (and he knows that very well)

As a tracker he can track you down right away whenever you are trying to avoid him (so that's useless to even try)

You tried just closing your eyes to avoid looking at him when he tries confronting you but then again with just a touch you are “Fuck it I cant be mad at you Dem”

Or he uses his sweet talk, with just a simple “cariño¨, you are already melting into him and YOU are the one saying sorry to him for being mad at him 

When ever you try walking away from him he instantly pulls you back and wraps his arms around you and cuddles you into his chest and in between kisses he is saying sorry and saying how much he loves you and cherishes you 

So at the end of the day good luck being mad at him because he knows how make you melt in many different ways 🙃which ends up being muscle memory to him 😘

Felix:

Look for Felix, he does not know what to do honestly, my poor giant usually keeps things calm between you two and hates to see you upset, so if you are mad at him well he will try everything to resolve this 

Like how can anyone be mad at him, he's a freaking teddy bear in disguise 

At first he gives you space, thinking that might help

Wrong, he needs to be with you, his love language is touch so neglecting you touch hurts him 

So he tries with flowers, he knows you love flowers (as cliche as that is your a hopeless romantic, I'm on the same boat though :))

The first time it worked but then the third time it didn't 

He knows hes fucked now when he realizes not even flowers can save him from this torture of you being mad at him

Hes not to kin with words (that's Demetri’s department), he will go to him for help but when you are determine to be mad at him  words he say goes in one ear and out the other (even is his sweet talk melts your heart)

So when you are in that mindset to stay mad at him, he goes to his last hope that he knows will be very effective

He uses this tactic usually when you are walking around the castle or are laying in bed

He basically pounces on you like a predator does to a prey (seems fit since he is a predator and you are a prey, in this case you are still human) 

He pins you against either a wall or bed and leans his face dangerously close to your neck 

“Look my little rose, I don't like the idea of you being mad at me and I know you don't like being mad at me either, so let's move on from this or….no sex for a month”

You know he never bluffs, there was one time where you didn't do it for a week and that was pure torture for sure for the both of you 

So with that you forgive him and you instantly cuddle with him which he just loves, he is after all a teddy bear in disguise 

And touch is his love language 

Alec:

My poor love, what can I say about him 

A bit like Felix, he does not know what to do honestly 

“...Ca-”

“No, don't even try with the cara, Alec, you lost your privilege to call me that”

Oh you are pissed indeed, he is left flabbergasted when you say that and you leave him like this 🧍🏻

Internally he knows hes fucked, what the hell can he do to make it up to you 

He can't even sweet talk you because he knows he lost that privilege to call you such names

Sometimes he does romantic gestures toward you, all of your favorite flowers placed in every spot of your shared room (aww isn't he just adorable 🥰)

But when you deny his gestures, he tries to calm himself, it's not like he is mad at you (maybe just a little bit) but he's so lost, he’s not a casanova like Demetri or a secret teddy bear like Felix, for fucks sake hes one of the infamous witch twins that everyone fears (my heart, I cant bare to call them that)

Even if you are pissed at him, he won't leave you alone, he knows that you might need space at some points but he's always vigilant of you 

But his patience can run low when this drags to long for his comfort 

He knows one of your weaknesses is his face (like just looking at his face calms you, why? It is unclear to him)

And he can tell when you are in this mood you avoid looking at his face, because he knows with just a look you will run back into his cold embrace that you love so much

So he will corner and raise your chin to look at him 

And man when you look at his burgundy eyes, you know this behavior has vanished and you just want to be with him again 

This cheeky vampire will tease you about how his face alone is your weakness 

You threaten him to shut up or you will sit on it

Just that “threat” alone can turn on you right away 

So much for being mad at him 

Jane:

Don't, just don't 

She will not be taking such attitude from you and letting you be mad at her 

If you want to be mad at her, its your lost 

She can easily avoid you and will do it for days if she needs to (even if she secretly hates doing that, she will not tell you for obvious reasons)

When she does “disappear” you are regretting all of your life choices at that moment, “Why the heck am I doing this again? Oh right, I'm mad at her. Why was I mad again?”

It's impossible to find her, you even go to Alec but he just responds “She told me not to tell you, you did this to yourself”

No amount of prying your mates brother will get him to reveal her location 

At that point you give up 

Jane on the other hand shes pacing in the throne room when she knows you are not close contemplating what to do to make it up to you 

Even if she has made it clear she doesn't like this attitude from you, it hurts her seeing you mad at her 

She wishes times like this does not exist but they do and like her twin she's lost

She knows no matter what she does for you, you would never expect her to do it so that's her advantage 

And as uncomfortable it is for her to be romantic toward you, she will for your sake

Expect flowers, your favorite treat, and books when you wake up in the mornings or when you take your naps 

It makes your heart flutter at the sight and you want her next to you right away

When you are at the point of giving up on being mad at her, she is there right away and you are the one saying sorry to her 

She will hush you and say “Don't be sorry tesoro, its my fault”

It does take her a while to admit to her faults but she will do anything to be able to be with you once again 

Caius

Oh honey, you are playing with fire here 

If your mad, hes mad 

But with him instead of avoiding you or giving you space, he wants to get to the bottom of this and resolve it 

Even if it just fuels the fire more, he will not tolerate you being mad at him

He loves you and hates when there is conflict between you guys 

He might say some things that are a bit to straight forward but you know he is like this 

He of course will either be pacing in front of you while resolving this or have you on his lap comforting you and hearing your case 

He would stroke your hair as you are saying why you are upset with him and nod along

When your mad beyond words to describe it, he will try to keep his anger at bay even if you are making allegations that are “offending him” (he knows you are right but why admit that to you)

 But then again it is hard to stay mad at him for long, as said before when there is conflict he will absolutely refuse to dance around this or give you space, he will resolve this in a an hour depending on the issue 

He loves you too much to have you mad at him, no matter what others say about him, you are his everything, his reason for being 

When you are in that situation when you are both shouting at each other (that is when he finally snaps and can't take your suppose allegations anymore), he surprisingly is the one to calm down first, he doesn't like the idea of seeing you yelling at him 

He will be the one to calm you down from your sudden eruption of anger because well only he can the only one to be the angry one, it's in his nature after all as the Ruthless Volturi King 😁

[animeyanderelover]

Anon: Yandere Johnathan, Dio, Joseph, Caesar, Wammu, Jotaro, Josuke, Giorno and Jolyne Headcannons with a Female Tanjiro Reader? She’s kind, compassionate and fights to protect, save others and find a cure for her sister to turn her back into a human (She’s also a very hard working individual).

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, overprotective behavior, stalking, paranoia, manipulation, blackmail, guilt-tripping, gaslighting, isolation, abduction, death

To fit this theme better into the JoJo verse, darling’s sister is a vampire instead of a demon.

Tags: @simplydlightfuldestiny @flaming-vulpix

Darling is like Tanjiro

Jonathan Joestar

💍Given your brave and kind personality, it is no wonder that Jonathan falls head over heels for you. Both of you fight side by side as his adopted brother Dio starts plotting his evil schemes with the new powers given to him by the stone mask. Your sister was one of the many victims that was turned by him yet somehow she retained her control and her heart as Dio didn't take over her mind. Despite Zeppeli's caution and advice that he should free your sister of her suffering, Jonathan is moved to tears as he witnesses the determination and love you have for your younger sister, solely led by his emotions as he offers to help you. After all your sister is very tame despite having been turned into a monster by Dio and hides during the day in a box you crafted for her. Both of you are trained together by Zeppeli in Hamon and join forces in order to put a stop to Dio's craving for power and to find a cure to turn your sister back into a normal human again.

💍​One would think that Jonathan should know best about your talents as he has trained together with you yet he falls fast and he falls fast, leaving him with the constant taste of fear and worry lingering on his mind and in his heart. Whenever a battle ensues, he always tries to shield you and to protect you out of fear that you might get hurt. Whenever he loses sight of you, his heart drops as paranoia quickly takes hold of him. He suffers the loss of his father and eventually the loss of Zeppeli and all of it only enforces his growing obsession as even his teacher ultimately dies, proving in his mind that even with all of your strength you can still fall during this battle. As someone who was raised to be nothing but a gentleman, it is his desire to cherish and to protect you yet he seems to overlook that his noble gestures to protect you are received as an insult from your side as you think that he is underestimating your strength. Whenever you confront him about it though, he shies away from the conflict, hating the thought of arguing with his sweetheart.

💍​Instead whenever conflict arises between you two, he tries to appease you in whatever way he can. At this point it is painfully obvious how he feels for you and Jonathan isn't even trying to hide it from you. He wants to treat you well and he does exactly that. In his mind fate must have brought you too together as both of you met, struck with tragedy inflicted upon the two of you by Dio. Sometimes his obsessive thoughts plague him and the shame comes crushing down on his heart yet more often he is prone to those delusional phases where he thinks of your meeting as destiny. The young Joestar heir has already plans to ask you for your hand in marriage as soon as both of you have won against Dio. He initially plans to ask you after peace has returned but depending on how paranoid and desperate he gets, he might even ask you beforehand if you'd do him the honor of letting him be your husband. He promises that he will worship you and do everything in his power to protect you and your sister.

Joseph Joestar

🦾​Joseph, Caesar and you form a trio when the Pillar Men appear as you have your own motivation for fighting them. During the expedition that Speedwagon took due to the rumored existence of other Stone Masks your sister, who was part of the team that accompanied him, was transformed into a vampire and you reunite with her during your first encounter with Stroheim who kept her alongside with Speedwagon captive. You are quite different from Joseph who relies on his wits and runs away when he realises that his situation looks helpless whilst you always stand your ground to save even those who do not deserve it even if you are only inches away from death. Multiple times he has sworn to not help you if you were to get in another such tense situation yet he has never had the heart to abandon you, leaving him no choice but to return and trick his way somehow out of the danger. Joseph always wants to scold you after every stunt you pull yet you always thank him with such a sincere look on your face that he doesn't have the heart to do so.

🦾​You are sometimes really too good for your own good as well as his own good yet despite the differences between you two, Joseph finds himself growing very attached to you and he knows that. Although he tries to hide his growing feelings, to people like Caesar it is quite obvious that he has caught feelings for you. Whenever there is a fight, he seems much more willing to fight and show off somehow but only when you are watching. Not to mention that he has gotten more hostile towards Caesar as he knows that that man has to flirt with every young woman within his vicinity, including you. He comes up with the most random bullshit to annoy you two only to interfere as soon as he notices that Caesar tries to flirt with you or simply just makes soma gagging sounds to distract you from him. Caesar might as well see it as a challenge as he openly admits to Joseph that he doesn't think that he would make a good partner for you. From that day on Joseph comes up with the most ridiculous things to keep you occupied with him.

🦾​Whilst it may appear like a bit of a cheap method, the fact that Speedwagon is looking out for your sister whilst you are helping to hunt down the Pillar Men in search of a cure is something Joseph uses to his advantage. After all he is quite close with Speedwagon so he likes to brag about it if he gets the chance. Throughout the entire time you three spend together, he starts slowly resenting your determination to help others though. He wouldn't call himself inherently a bad guy but he is also not someone who would willingly risk his life for some random stranger. You are the complete opposite as you always want to save everyone, something that sometimes isn't possible. He doesn't want you to lay down your life for random people, as noble as some people may think that is. In his mind it is simply stupid so during fights he starts actively dragging you away when he realises that the threat is too much to handle. He wants to live and he wants you to live as well. It is as simple as that. You want to see your sister being turned back to a human again, right? You won't witness that if you're dead.

Caesar A. Zeppeli

🫧​Lisa Lisa sends you as reinforcement during the earliest confrontation with the Pillar Men and whilst Joseph is initially gawking at you and wonders what you plan to add to the team, Caesar quickly shuts him up and apologises to you. Joseph truly has no manners when it comes to treating a pretty lady, plus he has utmost trust in his teacher so he has confidence in you. From the very beginning Caesar always favors you and treats you very well, although it is to be expected. As you join in the fights though and he gets to see just how much kindess and compassion you hold in your soul, his feelings deepen more and more. He truly admires your willpower and your determination to help people in need even if those people have threatened you before. Joseph, shrewd despite his sometimes stupid decisions, obviously notices the feelings of his rivals and starts teasing him about it. He goes too far when he tells you that Caesar catches feelings easily for women, something that almost ends in a fight between those two if it wouldn't have been for you stopping them.

🫧​His disdain for Joseph grows after that. How dare he even suggest to you that his feelings aren't sincere? Caesar urges you to not believe anything Joseph has told you as he swears to you that his feelings are sincere. When you three return to the island owed by Lisa Lisa, Caesar finds out about your sister that his teacher has kept safe during your absence. Initially he is very alerted as he doesn't trust your sister. She could pose a threat and harm you after all, even if she is also a lady. He knows that you would never let him harm her though as even Lisa Lisa assures him that she is different from the rest. After his wariness fades away, he can't help but wonder why you have never told him about her existence though. Do you not trust him? He immediately seeks you out to ask you about what has happened in your past and presses on even as you hesitate for a moment. When you eventually decide to tell him your tragic past, his heart starts bleeding for you. You poor thing have gone through so much...

🫧​After he has been entrusted with your path, he only starts feeling more protective about you. You are a woman too pure for everything you had to endure and it is your outstanding kindness that has him growing slowly more paranoid. He has seen terrible people in his life, people who would abuse your compassion and earnest desire to save others. He could never forgive someone if someone would stomp on your kindness and he could never forgive himself if he were to let anything happen to you. Caesar starts sticking close to you from that moment on, always paranoid when he isn't near you and can protect you. Obviously you address his smothering overprotective antics but you only get a lovesick smile in return and a kiss on your knuckles as he murmurs that he could never allow anything to harm you. In his eyes you deserve the world and nothing less after all the pain you had to go through and he intends to give the world to you. He is truly in love with you and in his eyes it is normal to protect the lady he plans to make his wife and spend his life with.

Wammu

🌪️​You are there together with Joseph and Caesar when the Pillar Men awaken and even if Wammu is far above you when it comes to strength, you refuse to back down. Even if you stand no chance against him, you stand time and time up again and he can tell that you put your all into this battle. There is a drive behind your eyes, a determination that keeps you going even if you shouldn't be able to stand anymore. It is that fire in your eyes that has his heart skipping a few beats as he proudly proclaims you as someone truly brave and worthy and even expresses gratitude that he was able to meet someone like you as soon as he has awakened. He almost doesn't want to kill you and Joseph, who has caught wind of Wammu's fascination with you, uses that partially to convince Wammu to let him and the others live for now so that they can return stronger. Wammu takes the bait, especially because he is eager to see how much stronger you will be the next time he sees you. You have the potential and willpower after all.

🌪️​His thoughts always seem to be around you as he eagerly and almost impatiently waits for the time to come and Kars and Esidisi sense his troubled feelings. Kars just bluntly advises him to take you if he desires you but Wammu refuses to use such underhanded methods as he prides himself as a strong and honorable warrior. So he chooses to challenge you when you find your way to him again to save Caesar as the young man impulsively storms into their hideout. As soon as you see how heavily wounded Caesar is, you are instantly willing to sacrifice yourself to save him and that is when Wammu offers you a deal. If you duel him and win, he will not only let Caesar go but also give you the antidote in his lip ring, something Joseph needs if he wants to survive. If you lose, he is free to do what he wants with you. You take the offer without a doubt and put a magnificent battle, even if he ultimately bests you. Even as you are bleeding heavily, you refuse to give up though and out of respect he not only lets Caesar live but gives him the antidote but takes you with him as you still lost and you accept it without throwing a tantrum.

🌪️​He caters instantly to your wounds as soon as he has taken you with a gentleness you didn't expect from a Pillar Man. After he has bandaged all of your wounds he decides to ask you what it is that motivates you so greatly and why you were so determined to find his kind. Initially you look at him silently and just as he is about to assure you that you don't have to tell him, you decide to open up. You confess to him that your sister was turned into a vampire due to a Stone Mask and that you had heard that his kind had invented them and so you had hoped to find a cure for her. Hearing your motivation truly only manifests you as a noble and honorable human as a warm feeling of pride spreads in his chest. It is in that moment that he decides that he desires to have you as his partner, though he is aware that you two stay on different sides of this current battle. Yet he sincerely wishes to help you so he makes another suggestion. He will help you to heal your sister but in return he asks of you to stay by his side as his lover in the future and remain loyal to him and he promises in return to cherish and love you until the end of time.

Kujo Jotaro

🚬​You join the crusaders during their long and difficult travels to reach Egypt and DIO somewhere along the way. Your first encounter with them almost ends in a big fight when your sister escapes during the night and crosses paths with Jotaro who initially mistakes her as another minion of DIO. You arrive just in time and throw yourself in front of her, fully prepared to take all of Star Platinum's punches to protect your little sibling only for his Stand to stop in the last second. When the rest of the group arrives, you find yourself able to explain the situation you are in and since you have the same goal as everyone, you decide to join them with your own respective Stand. Jotaro clarifies to you from the very beginning though that if your sister should ever turn attack them and let her instincts get the better of her, he will have to get rid of her. You manage to hold his stern gaze though and reassure him that it won't happen as your sister is different from the others.

🚬​As all of you continue their journey, Jotaro learns to value you as a member of the team. You are strong and even your sister joins the fights when there is no sunlight around. Although he will openly admit that your very idealistic goals to protect everyone are at times quite exhausting and both of you have gotten into a few fights already. Jotaro has less problems sacrificing a few people if it can't be helped and reprimands you for your silly daydreams that you will always be able to save everyone only for you to get mad at him and call him heartless in return. What you don't seem to realise is that Jotaro's harshness and rude words are born out of a growing worry he feels for you the longer you are part of the Crusaders. He won't grieve random people he couldn't save in time but you are no random stranger to him. You are someone he has learnt to value and respect and he won't just watch as you throw yourself in danger over and over again to save someone who doesn't deserve it as you even express kindness to their opponents, though only after they have been beaten.

🚬​The tension only grows the closer you get to your destination and the more you are put through. Jotaro's obsession at this point has already gotten to the point of no return and he knows that yet he hides it, clueless on how to even act on those feelings. Although they do slip out in the very unpleasant shape of growing oppression and control he starts to keep on you. He has had enough with your antics by now to the point where he even tries to remove you from the scene to prevent you from trying to play hero again. Star Platinum, his Stand, has started acting on Jotaro's obsession as well and shows the feelings the man is trying to suppress much more openly. If you are within vicinity, it will suddenly grab you and pull you instinctively closer to it, much to Jotaro's slight embarrassment as he doesn't plan to tell you of his feelings. You won't be involved in theit final battle, he already knows that you would end up sacrificing yourself for someone else. Don't worry though, he will keep his promise and find a cure for your sister. He isn't as heartless as you claim him to be after all.

DIO

🕰️​He feels like he is seeing a ghost of someone in you he has despised so much to the point where he feels the need to eradicate even the ancestors of said person. That's right. There is a resemblance of Jonathan DIO sees in you and whether it is his own petty hatred or a dormant fear he holds against the only man who ever beat him, he perceives you as a threat. He wants you gone and all of his minions are begging him to let them take care of you yet you have caught his attention to the point where he wishes to take care of you himself. Yet one of his pawns would not listen to him and assaults you themselves nevertheless only to be beaten by you and your sister. DIO couldn't care less about their death but it is the report that a vampire fought by your side that catches his attention. He's the only one who creates vampires. How is it then that someone who should obey him is fighting side by side with you? It seems like he can't just simply kill you after all. Instead he orders his pawns to gather information about you and the vampire fighting by your side.

🕰️​It doesn't take long for his minions to find what he wants to know as they are more than eager to please him however they can. Apparently your sister was turned into a vampire by one of his pawns he can't even remember and you are searching for him to demand for a cure to turn your sister back into a human. That's his chance. DIO can barely suppress the diabolical grin on his face as he realises that he could probably break you by tormenting you by using your sister against you. If he can gain control over her and order her to attack you, he is sure that he can break you down. As soon as you reach his hideout, his minions ambush you and even though you put up a brave fight, ultimately you are captured. His presence frightens you, he can tell as much by the way your heart hammers inside your chest yet you refuse to let any of your fear show as you stare him right into his eyes as he gloats about your loss, already suggesting with an evil gron on his face what he plans to do now that he has you and your sister.

🕰️​Yet you are so stubborn and headstrong and so is your sister as he is unable to gain control of her nor can he break you. He has always taken what he has wanted yet strangely enough he doesn't find himself displeased. Instead he revels in your unwavering determination and your immunity to fall for his charm, something that has brought countless men and women to their knees. After all the harder something is to obtain, the sweeter the taste of victory will be. He finds himself desiring to break you and then to possess you and to achieve that, he commits truly horrible deeds all to trigger your mental breakdown. He may force himself sexually on your sister whilst forcing you to watch or the other way around, will blackmail and threaten you to expose your sister to the sunlight and so many other things that should tear you apart yet even through your greatest sorrow and grief, that spark in your eyes never disappears. It frightens him a bit, confuses him to why you don't give up. Why do you persist? Wouldn't it be easier for you to just drown in your misery? You really are special, aren't you?

Higashikata Josuke

💎​Josuke is hotheaded and enjoying his life and his youth. He is quite passionate about showing his feelings which is why he has no real way to cover up his growing infatuation with you as he quickly descends down the stairs of obsession. Above all it is your kind and compassionate attitude that has won him over and he greatly admires you for the strong and forgiving person that you are. You even complimented his hair when you met for the first timw which only added fuel to the inferno. Due to his openess to express his feelings though, Josuke has no lid on his emotions which means that he has no real way to control him. He isn't even attempting to control them in the first place and this has led him to be quite volatile depending on how he feels. Whether he is euphoric or enraged, he will act on those emotions. His infatuation has made him quite clingy which is why he often follows you around and always desires to be with you as his mood is otherwise quite grumpy which means that he is quite easily angered.

💎​Okuyasu calls him one night and informs him that he has seen a strange person sneaking inside your house as he just happened to pass by and instantly Josuke is alarmed. He ignores his mother's confused questions as he rushes to your house in the middle of the night and pounds against the door, his heart hammering against his chest in fear. When you don't answer, he instantly assumes the worst and Crazy Diamond quicly destroys your door only to instantly repair it. He looks fully prepared to murder the strange woman he finds in your house but you arrive just in time to stop him and his stand from attacking her. With no ther choice left but to tell him the truth, you tell him that the person is your sister and your tragic backstory about how she was turned into a vampire and how you are desperately searching for a cure. A part of Josuke reacts quite intrigued because whilst he knows about the existence of stands, he has never known about the existence of vampires, although he also expresses his concern about your safety.

💎​When he realises how much you wish to turn your sister back into a human, his heart instantly melts and he promises to help you however he can. It is his duty as your boyfriend to make his girlfriend happy after all. You do not quite know what he is talking about, although you obviously have noticed the obvious crush he has on you. What you don't know as of now is that Josuke has gone genuinely delusional with his love for you to the point where he already thinks that both of you share the same love for each other. Even if the situation isn't pleasant for you, he sees this as his chance to shine and to make you love him even more than you already do in his mind. He starts speculating pretty soon that perhaps his own Stand Crazy Diamond could be the solution to all of your problems and the idea that he can be your hero excites him as he rambles to you about his idea. He truly feels like you two were meant to meet because what are the chances that he would have the perfect solution to turn your sister back into a normal human.

Giorno Giovanna

🐞​You have joined the Mafia a while ago yet you have quickly risen through the ranks. You are earnest and hardworking and hate to let people down, always set on fulfilling the missions you are entrusted with. On the other hand it is also that the Don favors you that you have gained so much in such a short time and his feelings for you only seem to get stronger the longer he gets to know you. You are the kindest soul he has ever met as you do not tolerate the abuse of power by others and refuse to follow orders if they go against your own set of morales. You have gone even as far as to sometimes suggest to Giorno himself that he could do something to better the way of the Mafia and if you would have been anyone else, he wouldn't have tolerated it with a genuine smile and a promise to consider your advice. Giorno isn't oblivious to his feelings and he isn't surprised either that he fell for you as hard as you did. Your kindness and compassion resemble the rays of sunshine and he knows that he wants that warmth for himself.

🐞​You have never really elaborated on your private life even if he questioned you gently about it. You may be able to fool others but not Giorno who has dedicated so much time to observe you and memorise your every reaction and emotion you have shown around him. You are hiding something from him, something that burdens you. You deserve better than that and whilst he recognises that you probably don't wish to worry him as you probably assume that he is already busy enough with his duties as the Don, you don't seem to understand that he sees his duties in catering to your needs and every worry just as much. With connections throughout the entire country, very soon he finds out sacred information you never wanted him to know. He soothes you as soon as you figure out what he has done as you feel like he has broken your trust as he gently holds your trembling hands and promises you in a gentle tone that he only wishes to help you. He already knows everything but won't you tell him yourself?

🐞​He promises you to protect your sister and keep her identity hidden just as much as he promises you to find a cure for her. Even if he knows that he has partially broken your faith in him by invading your personal life and finding out something you don't want anything to know, he would lie if he would claim that he feels guilty. Instead he feels like he understands you even better now than he understood you before as he now knows more about your personal motives for joining Passione. Not only that but he is not above realising how much control he would hold over you by using your biggest weakness in form of your sister against you. It is quite a cheap move and he knows that yet he will do what he must do to protect you and to keep you for himself. He cares too much to lose you after all. He is genuine when he swears to you that he really plans to find a cure for your sister. You should be prepared though that he will demand something in return from you for his assistance and it'll most likely be the first step to make you his forever.

Cujoh Jolyne

🪢​Jolyne and you meet in Green Dolphin Street as both of you were labeled as criminals. She has been betrayed by her ex who decided to blame the accident and the death of the car accident on her and you have been locked away because you have a history of breaking into rich and important people's houses, although you have never stolen something. Unfortunately you were caught and had been unfortunate enough to get caught by an especially unpleasant couple who made sure to lock you away for good. Both of you recognise that neither one of you is a bad person though and you hit it off quite well with each other. Her tough personality she likes to put on is something you learn to live with as you can kind of guess that she does this to hide her own vulnerability. You talk about all sorts of things as you spend your time together in jail as you treat her with kindness and respect. Something that makes her heart very flustered, although she doesn't want to admit it.

🪢​Jolyne has never been exposed to much kindness in her life as her own father has largely neglected her during her youth and so she is like a dry sponge who eagerly absorbs any kindness and compassion you give her. It is no wonder that you have her wrapped around your finger as quick as you do as she grows increasingly possessive and clingy. She is selfish about any kind word and any minute you can give her as she is very prone to jealousy as soon as you give your attention and sweetness to someone else but she doesn't care about such things, if she even recognises the wrongness of her feelings to begin with. she is just desperate for all of your attention and affection and doesn't shy away from beating someone up with her stand Stone Free to get rid of any unpleasant pesk who tries to get between you and her. You also join her when she plans to break out and she doesn't even have to beg you as you quickly agree. She is dear to you after all. A statement that turns her harsh facade to mush.

🪢​It is only a while later though that you confess to her that you have another reason for breaking out. You have a little sister who was turned into a vampire and you have been searching for clues how to cure her, hence why you broke into people's houses who you suspected to have something useful. Jolyne has rather mixed emotions when you tell her. On the one hand she does feel sorry for you and can understand your desire to help your sister. All of that doesn't compare to her jealousy though and even some part of her can admit that this is quite petty from her. It's your own sister after all, someone who would pose no threat as a possible rival. Jolyne's obsession goes beyond the simple jealousy of romantic rivals though. She strives to be the most important woman and person in your life and desires to have all of your attention and love for herself so your sister is still perceived as a rival as she wonders who you would choose if you had to do so. For now she has you for herself though and she tries to push the gnawing jealousy out of her mind, although she grows much more touchy as you work on breaking out of prison.

[masonm99]

Let Me Take Care Of You

Manchester United had done it! They had won the FA Cup final and you couldn’t be proud, especially for the love of your life.

Mason.

After the season he had, this was the best way to end things and you couldn’t wait to show him how proud you are of him.

You waited long enough, after all you couldn’t tear your eyes off him when he wore the suit, it was your weakness. His hair already made you weak. This suit of his though, it was brutal for you to watch him parade in it and you not being able to do anything up until now and even then you didn't have long because the afterparty was in about an hour. So you had to be quick and let out all your feelings in the hour that you had before you go to the afterparty having to pretend again that the suit doesn't make you want to tear his suit off right there and then in that moment.

Replaying the FA cup win in your head made you feel proud and happy for the team and especially Mason - as it always did. But you were only human, and that suit on him was the reason you were dripping wet for him.

‘You here, babe?’ You heard Mason yell, you were in the ensuite when he came into the hotel room, and you walked out as soon as you heard him, and made a beeline for him and jumped into his arms as soon as you saw him. You leapt up and circled your legs around his waist.

You placed your lips on his and kissed him; you couldn't waste any time. You were practically insatiable. You felt Mason walk over to the edge of the bed, and sat down, you were now on his lap, never once breaking the kiss.

Mason's large hands went down to your ass; you were still in your Manchester United shirt specifically and obviously the number 7 shirt, nothing else. You didn't bother wearing much clothes when you came back to the hotel as you knew what would happen and thought it would save you time and get to the real deal quick enough because you couldn't keep your hands off him long enough.

‘Fuck Y/N no underwear, and the number 7 looks so fuckin' sexy on you. Are you trying to make me fuck you?’ He smirked. You pulled back from his lips and glared at him.

‘Ah, not yet. Let me take care of you first,’ you say with a wink.

‘Damn! What did I do to deserve this? But you know I love when you take control so go ahead baby,’ Mason says, his tongue poking his cheek, looking all smug and cockily.

‘Win the FA cup, duh,’ you playfully say, rolling your eyes.

‘You better get on your knees then baby.’ he winks.

Before obeying him, you couldn't resist but leaving open mouthed kisses on his neck. You trail your mouth even lower , grabbing his arms as you kiss his chest, licking his nipple , then biting it softly, then giving the other nipple the same attention; his arms are flexed and you can feel how much bigger his muscles have gotten. You've always loved his body, but damn, he was so much stronger than you and you could barely wait until you could put some of your ideas into practice. But not now; it is all about him now. So you continue moving your kisses lower, your hands now following your lips on his sides. You pause for a moment and look at him, and you wish you could take a picture of this moment and capture Mason under your control. He looks delicious and you're finally about to have a taste.

You finally obey what he says and get on your knees. When you're finally able to unzip his trousers you let out a sigh of relief . You've been waiting all day for this moment and you're going to cherish every moment. His trousers slid down to his ankles, and you start teasing him, going past his clothed erection and kissing his inner thighs, his legs opening to accommodate you better. You simply grasp at the waistband of his boxers and pull them down until they reach the ankles, just where the trousers fell. You can see his cock twitch in anticipation. You don't even have to look up to know; you can feel his stare. When you sense that he is about to beg - and you want to save that for later - one of your hands comes into a circle. your fingers loosely around his cock. You take one look at him again, staring into his eyes, as you lower ypur open mouth to his balls, and at the first lick his hand on the duvet tightened, and you moan, closing your eyes.

You love how sensitive he is to your every touch just like you are to his. You don't put any pressure on his cock yet, choosing to focus on his balls, for now, teasing him with your tongue and hand, caressing them, licking around them, sucking them lightly into your mouth. You almost miss him moaning out your name and a soft please, and you look up at him.

‘Grab my hair, Mase.’ You don't need to say it twice, the hand that was on the duvet moves, helping you keep your hair from your face so you can focus on the task at hand. You decide not to make him wait any longer and close you fist around his cock, dragging it slowly up and down once, twice, and on the third time your hand goes down, your tongue lavishes attention to the head of his cock, his taste and smell invading your senses. You sense him gripping your hair tighter and you close your eyes, sucking the head into your mouth and moaning around it as he gets louder, his hands tightening even more. You suck him a little harder and release the head with an audible noise. Your tongue goes back to his balls, but this time to lick a strip up until you reach the head again and out it in your mouth, sucking it and going down his cock as much as you can as you close your hand against what doesn't fit.

You don't waste anymore time, bobbing your head up and down slowly at first, matching the movements with your hand while the other gives some attention to his balls just like how you know he likes. Every time your mouth moves down, you suck and press your tongue against the underside of his cock, and you feel him clench his hands on your hair more and more, still holding himself back, but you want him to just let go. This time, as you suck down, you try going deeper, feeling him hit the back of your throat and you pause for a moment, reminding yourself to breathe through your nose. You slowly move your head down, taking more and more of him until your nose is pressed against his stomach and you swallow around him, feeling him deep. This time his hands pull on your hair and you moan, which only makes him pull harder, and you choke, tears coming to your eyes. He pulls you off his cock and up to kiss him, muttering 'fuck' in your mouth.

‘You're gonna make me cum like this,’ he says.

You smile, raising your eyebrow and wordlessly go back to sucking him into your mouth. This you keep your eyes glued to his, needing to see his face as you pleasure him; whenever he is going on you and maintains eye contact you feel it is too intense, but being in this position you understand why he loves to look at you like this, underneath, receiving this pleasure. You start moving your mouth faster, sucking harder, and you press down a little more, swallowing around him. You feel him pulling on your hair, trying to have you come up again, knowing he's close by the way he's clenching his thighs and his cock is twitching in your mouth.

‘I want you to cum in my mouth, Mase,’ you say as your hand keeps the movements, not stopping his pleasure. He nods, licking his lips and opening his mouth to let out a moan while his hips press up, needing more, he's so close, so you give him what he needs.

You suck him hard, no more teasing, no more going slow or careful. It gets messy and wet, you sucking him up and down and feel his thighs clench and his hands tug on your hair, his breath becomes heavier and shorter. One of his hands grabs the sheets near his hips, gripping into the mattresses he gives you a warning that he is close. Once you know he is close, you suck deeply, deep throating him, moaning around him, encouraging and making him reach his peak. You feel his cum fill your mouth and you have a hard time swallowing with him still in your mouth, so you let some dribble out as you keep the same pressure on his cock, prolonging his pleasure until he twitches.

‘Wow! I think that was the best head I’ve ever had.’ Mason manages to get out, pulling you up into his lap. You felt a bit flustered after realising what you just did, and your face said it all. ‘Don’t get all shy on me now, we’ve got a long night ahead of us,’ he winks, after realising you went quiet and found your face hiding in the crook of Mason’s neck inhaling his cologne which almost sent you to your knees again.

‘Not yet Mr, in case you’ve forgotten we’ve got an afterparty to attend in approximately 40 mins and I need to do my makeup again. Can’t go down looking like this now, can I?’ You finally speak, now getting out of your hiding spot and looking Mason in the eye, he just smiles down at you, ‘Fuck, how did i get so lucky?’ Mason lets a whisper completely disregarding your previous comments. ‘And to answer your question, No, this side of you is only for me to see. You’re an angel in the streets and a devil in the sheets.’ Mason smirks, leaving you speechless once again.

__

The afterparty was quite eventful and the entire night you could feel Mason’s lingering looks, it’s like you both knew what was going to happen when you got straight to the hotel.

And your gut feeling was right.

You had already been one orgasm down but you knew you wanted to try something different by being on top, you didn’t know how he would react but you wanted to watch him lay back and relax whilst you’re riding him.

‘You got another one in you for me, sweetheart?’ His deep, sensual voice is smooth as butter as he whispers. Hovering over you, he lines himself to your entrance and lets his spare hand lace with yours on the bed while the other gives his cock a few tugs.

‘Wait,’ your tone is stifling. You breathe as you place your hands on his broad shoulders. ‘Tonight I want to try something different for you,’ For a brief moment, you make eye contact enough to feel secure in each other's company. Your body moves slowly from under him, luring him to lie down on your king sized hotel bed with your silky sheets tumbling around you. As you straddle him, his palms caress your hips and his hand rests on the small of your back. ‘Relax for me, Mase.’ You whisper, gently planting a kiss on his lips, holding his stubbly cheek in your palm.

He nods, breath hitching in his throat as he gazes at you, your lips swirling around his fully erect cock, hand pumping him. He lets out a soft moan watching you as you barely taste him, the pre cum seeping out of his tip devoured by your sleek mouth.

Your thighs straddle him, lining his tip with your entrance on top, once you’ve primed him, his cock glistening with your clit. His cock slides effortlessly from your glossy arousal for him as you guide him inside of you, your moans threading together. Your hands clasp his chest, providing stability. You rock your hips slowly and sensually at first, giving each other time to get used to get used to one another.

‘Wait, Y/N.’ Your face drops at him calling out your name, you wondered if he didn’t want this, you were getting ready to get off his lap until Mason held you in place before reaching for the bedside table, where it had the FA Cup medal. You gave him a look at first wondering if he was instantiating what you were thinking. ‘As much as I think riding me alone is the hottest thing, I want you to wear the medal whilst you’re riding me. That would send through the roof.’ Mason says, clearing your doubts. You move your head forward so he could put it on you.

‘You can carry on now,’ he winks.

His lips utter muffled groans as he watches you bounce on his pulsating cock.

‘Tell me if this feels good, okay?’ You cup his cheek once again and plant a tiny kiss on his jaw. You let motion take control and your hips rotate in a half circle.

His cock, which is buried deep inside you, hits your end this time as you bounce slowly, grinding, and you make sure to rock your hips a little more. The sloppy sounds of the wetness pumping in and out, He moans your name in an enticing deep tone, and he is so thankful for you right now.

Mason’s hands are on your waist and his eyes are closed as you guide yourself on his twitching member, ‘F-fuck.’ he softly moans, stammers and rolls his eyes to the back of his head. Drops of sweat glisten on his forehead as you tightly grip his biceps.

‘Does that feel good, baby?’ You gently gasp when his cock hits your G-spot, hips motioning up and down now.

‘So good.’ His teeth are clenched, a whimper falling from his lips as his hands come to hold over yours on his chest. Squeezing your hand tight as you clench your walls around him, each inch of him is felt, filling inside. ‘Please don’t stop, baby.’ He bites his lips. ‘Keep going love, just like that.’ He grunts when you go deeper, tightening around him. The pads of Mason’s thumbs are digging into your skin now.

You feel Mason thrust up into you, ever so slightly, meeting your hips half way. He swiftly pulls you down flush to his chest, your boobs and the cold feeling of the medal pressed against him, so vulnerable, exposed for him, Your skin sticking to one another. His breath is moist against your lips as your forehead touches and you gaze deeply into each other's eyes for a while uttering gasps and groans that fill the air. Your brows furrow in total ecstasy as your hips continue to move sensually on his cock.

Mason’s arms are wrapped around you, holding your body close as he kisses your face endlessly, between moans. You’re a whiny mess on top of him, trying your best to focus on making him feel good.

It��s the least he deserves after the day he’s had.

The feeling of him stretching you, filling you to the brim, your clit ached to the way his cock pounds in and out of you as you move, feeling completely full. It’s a unique kind of ultimate bliss, something only the two of you have the pleasure of indulging in.

He quivers, whimpering almost as soon as you circle and rotate your hips in a different way.

‘I won’t be able to last much longer, Y/N, I'm so close,’ He trembles and shivers as your pussy moves a little bit quicker at this point, your hips curving in full motion. ‘Baby, you’re taking me so well.’

‘No.’ you groan softly, the sound of your skin slapping together loud, your ass pounding his thighs, your creamy release glistening at him. His thoughts are captivated by the way you fit him like a glove. You stop dead in your tracks and plant a kiss on his lips, your foreheads meeting as you do so.

Your fingers interlock his hair, you let out small, breathy moans, soothing him. ‘Not yet, baby.’ You sigh, nuzzling his neck. ’All good things to those who wait.’

He nods, pulling you closer, his lips parted and his chest flushed pink, rising and falling. ‘You just feel so good.’ His deep voice makes you shiver, with small groans and husky tones as you pulse him. ’So drenched for me.’

In an instant, you are rocking and rolling oh him, feeling the waves of his cock as you move up and down on it, your hand reaching out to grasp his hand again. You can feel him trembling and twitching as he tries his best to hold off cumming deep inside right at that second.

Knowing he’s close, Mason takes a hold of your hand and gradually leads it down to his balls. ‘Can you..’ His words cease, a deep groan coming to his lips when he feels your fingertips on them. You know how much he enjoys it when you play with them and how it always pushes him over the brink. You massage, fondling them whilst he skims your gorgeously voluptuous boobs.

You’re practically crying from how good it feels; how good he feels. His hands move over your body, rubbing and caressing your plump boobs as they bounce along with you and the medal. Mason considers every part of your body to be his own little piece of heaven.

Somewhere only he had the right to be welcomed.

Each inch of his cock fills you as he sinks in and out, restrained compliments for you from his mouth as he watches, a jumble of messy moans from beneath you. Picking up the pace again, you hear his groans become louder and louder, knowing he’s getting closer as you edge him, only to stop your hips again as he’s about to release. With your touch stroking his temple, you gently kiss his jaw again, quietly whispering into his ear.

‘Not just yet, baby. Hold off for me a bit longer.’ Nuzzling your face into his neck, you paint delicate love bites while moving up and down on him, his hands wandering to your ass, moaning and groaning in delight, needily in your ear.

You’re exactly what he needed to feel, sweet relief, blissfully warm, wet, and tight. He craved it more than anything at that moment. Every now and then, you gasp quietly as your pussy throbs for him; the noises only make him want more.

Sitting up straight, you now press your hands to his chest, bouncing, harder, deeper, quicker, whirling in all directions, ready to deliver the climax you both craved. Mason starts to fall apart beneath you, your skin colliding quickly and meaninglessly and your actions wild and demanding.

You move faster, ‘Eyes on me, love. That’s it princess. I wanna watch you.’ You’re giving it your all, each string of nerves inside you is pulled, you fear you’re going to snap. He’s holding you so tight, as if scared you’ll disappear, he whispers in your ear, cooing how much he loves you and how good you make him feel.

Your release streams down his thighs, squirting out as you bounce faster, practically crying on top of him. He feels so amazing, almost too good to be true, and the twitching and pulsing of his cock is divine. Each curve and vein of his huge dick digs into you, leaving you sore and delicate.

Unable to restrain himself, Mason begins pounding up into you, meeting your hips. You cry, giving it your all as you bounce quickly, clutching his bicep. ‘Oh Y/N,’ he repeatedly exclaims.

Glancing between, he notices his cock glistening with your slickness, each motion of your hips, balls practically slamming into your core each time.

‘Cum for me, Mase.’ You say whilst biting your lip. ‘Fill me up.’ Tears pricking at how good he makes you feel.

‘Together.’ Mason moans in pleasure, bringing his thumb down to your clit to stroke circles. ‘Cum all over my cock, darling. Let go for me.’ He takes a sharp breath.

Within seconds, you both reach your high, foreheads pressed hard against each other so you can feel Mason close by, hip is bouncing through your orgasms. Mason’s cock slams into you again, only slowing when he spills into you, creamy ribbons of his cum filling you whole. He stops along with your hips, buried deep inside, still throbbing as your pussy aches around him, tender, sore, and delicate.

You’re now out of breath, and Mason’s arms keep you close to his chest as it rises and falls. You open your eyes, as he does, to join your gazes, his cheek flushed pink. You giggle, kissing his lips while still panting, ‘How was that?’ You ask, wincing as his cock moves slightly inside of you as he shifts whilst still buried in you.

‘So fucking good, baby. This is the best you’ve ever given me.’ Mason kisses your palm and holds it to his chest.

You smile, knowing how well you’ve done and how good you’ve treated him.

‘Now, it’s my turn to take care of you. Just so you know, I’m not going to let you go lightly. My teasing is gonna be ten times worse, baby.’ Mason smirks.

Mason’s lips trail lower, deep purple stained marks embedding their way into your skin from his hungering lips, and you softly smile, your lips curling into the gentlest of grins, watching the way Mason loves on you so well, leaving not an inch of your skin untouched.

His fingers are deep into you, your wetness soaking his fingers. His fingers move and please. The pleasure he gives flutters over your form, resulting in pleasantly rich orgasm’s. It approaches at a slow pace at first. As the peak - that sweet spot hits, it starts to build, rising with the tide. It comes, it pours but it never truly goes away.

Your legs and clit are spread out by him. Your scent of sex yearning heat enveloped his senses; a scent Mason had stored away in the depths of his mind for longing nights spent absent from his love. His sturdy fingers held open delicate folds whilst he lightly kissed your sensitive clit. ‘All mine.’ He breathes into your pussy as he lightly pecks along your soaking folds. ‘Can’t believe you’re all mine.’ He smiles, smirking up, catching a delightful view of your dewy skin. Your fingers thread through his chocolate locks nestled in your clit. ‘Can’t believe your body is all mine.’ Kissing lightly along the insides of your thighs, marking your skin as his and only his.

Through the quiet whimpers and shuddering breaths, you whine for him, your small, dainty fingers reaching, always reaching for his soft hair. You lightly tug on his hair, the sensation of his lips adoring your skin and his strong hands gently caressing your bare thighs, sending butterflies soaring through your body. ‘Mase.’ You moan as you feel his lips curl into a smile. The sound of his name falling gracefully off your lips is his favourite sound as it makes it feel like you’re his and his only.

You are his favourite sound. You scream, whimper, spill, ‘Mase,’ over and over again. His beautiful eyes which you can get lost into forever slowly wander to yours, a smile spreading over his lips as his hand reaches out to meet yours on the frantic white sheets. His lips meet yours in a kiss that is drenched in affection as he takes your hand in his and squeezes it with confidence. Mason’s lips intertwine with yours in such a delicate and tender way that you’re left staring into his chocolate orbs while your hand clutches and fits against his, holding yours like a puzzle piece.

‘Patience, baby.’ A soft bruise appears on your neck where his lips made love to your flesh, and purple hues pour over the area as he smiles into your skin. The swell of your breasts, bare and exposed with shadowed, pebbled nipples perking just for him, was your flawlessly attractive body. With anticipation of pleasing you so perfectly, he sinks a kiss into the valley of your chest, his moist lips scattering to your breasts, a trail of delicate kisses dotting your stomach.

With his lips hovering over your clit, his fingers spreading you, languidly stroking over your clit as stifling moans fill his ears. The sweetness of your quick arousal meets his tongue in a quick wash of your sweetness.His hand reaching up to thread yours once more to your side, He dives into you and gently caressing your clit nestled between, his thumb soothingly grazes the skin of your palm and his spare hand resting on your thigh.

Mason’s tongue flicks you in a way that varies between quick and languid, enticing your tender spots and blending his tongue’s flow with your moisture. He grins at you and says, ‘Baby, you’re soaked.’ A deep groan sends from the pit of his mouth, the sounds of his mouth slicking, his nose brushing against your folds, generating jolts of warm pleasure as he happily your whole. ‘Fuck, Mase!’ You cry out as you feel him sucking eagerly on your moist, gushing folds and lapping your creamy glisten. Your weak legs spread further out for him, your hand tightly gripping his in a painful squeeze.

Right now, to Mason, nothing mattered other than your body and your pleasure.

The way he leaves you is a mess; his lips spread your slick gleam of soaking arousal all over your clit, and the creamy build up of need soaks the inside of you as you whine for him. His beard shines with your dripping wetness, and his tongue speeds up movement when you moan out his name louder than before, a routine of signal of your proximity to release he’d become much familiar with through numerous occasions of love making they’d shared with each other.

When he places his hot breath on your clit, you feel a wave of pleasure crash over your body, causing your body to tense and your toes to curl. His lips never leave your clit, gliding over your pussy as he gently guides you down from bliss. You feel like a bliss of release almost as if you were seeing stars for a brief moment. His cock lifted in response to your whimpers and groans, revealing a deep desire to be buried within the cosy and moist walls of shelter he had just made.

You laboured, your breath quickening and huffing as you let out steam from the third orgasm he’d given you within a matter of minutes.

‘You got another in you for me, baby?’ He speaks in a deep tone. You can feel a bulge of dangerously eager cock against your stomach. His lips trace up, leaving an unrestricted amount of kisses and scattering moist pecks over your naked glory, a little sheen of dewy sweat apparent on your flushed cheeks. Slow, sensual hands wander your body . Your fingers grab for him again through suffocating breaths, yearning to feel him close - so close, in fact, that you’d become one.

You feel the weight of his cock stroking your clit every time he moves, beads of pre cum pricking your skin from his thick tip. His lips are still adoring your silky skin, and he has his body positioned above you, held close by his toned biceps. Every vein in his member throbs, waiting to be taken by you. ‘Mason,’ you manage, your words lost on his lips when you meet in a searing kiss. His bites of affection litter your chin, your jaw, only stopping when you reach up to cup his face in a desperate plea. ‘Fuck me.’ You manage to get out, the throb between your weak legs intensifying, ‘Take care of me like you do, baby.’

Chuckling quietly, a delicate smirk washes over his features, his lips twisting into a smile as he leaves a final kiss to your lips. With his hefty cock in hand, he directs, lining his cock into your clit, gentle groans and breathless breaths tampering through skin on skin as his hips roll at a frustrating gradual speed.

Mason slides in, a short dip of his cock inside you, before sliding out. You cling onto him, your claws digging into the rosy fleshed skin of his back,as his head finds a home between the soft spots of your shoulders and your neck. Sliding back in, you beg him to go faster through frantic groans, the stretch of him inside creating a familiar burn you’d become used to over the years you had been with him. A soft moan escapes yours and Mason’s mouths, the sensation of you tightening around him sends shivers back. With each thrust, he plunges, burying and searching deeper and deeper inside, his bulging veins pulsating against your walls.

With every firm push and open mouthed kisses against your neck, he sinks inch by inch. The ache inside you grows;your groans becoming necessary and your gentle yelps becoming more frequent by the second.

He knew exactly what he was doing to you. ‘Fuck,sweetheart.’ Mason praises. You cry out a moan between loud, broken breaths, gripping fistfuls of the white sheets piled in a sea around their bodies, a hand caging to your mouth, muffling loud, vulgar groans that fall carelessly. Mason goes deeper and deeper, until rolled thrusts strike your end. Mason’s name comes off your mouth in a desperate plea. ‘You feel,’ he groans, clutching to your body tighter, ‘so,so good baby.’ His deep grunts rummage between your skin, demanding thrusts burying inside you with each movement, your body shivering with need, feeling the pulse of his swollen cock caged inside.

Mason’s pace quickly becomes faster by the second, with every dip into your warm haven, he showers you with praises, marking you with kisses and wet traces of his love generously on your skin.

The room was filled with the sound of your skin slapping, with each powerful plunge, a string of incoherent moans flooding his lips, The sensation of your walls milking his cock is a trance of its own. You whimper while he drills into you, jaw tightening, teeth gritting to the feel of nestling within you; his favourite place to be.His erection is stiff, tearing you open as his veiny bulk pounds in furiously, the words of praise that mist in the air pushing you into a frenzy of it own. ‘Gonna make you feel so good, princess.’ He encourages, his finger finding its way massaging to your sensitive clit.

With a swift motion, he pumps his hips and dips his fingers encouragingly into your smooth folds. You gasp when you feel this sinful touch, your head falling hopelessly to his shoulder as the sheen of his milky arousal envelops you.’Mase, don’t…don’t stop.’ You cry out feeling a wave of tears vulnerably fall from the corners of your eyes at the thought of how magnificently he fuck you.The bedframe creaking due to his demanding pace.

Your boobs move at his speed, bouncing relentlessly, his cock gleaming with your fluids, sliding with your mixture of releases interfering. Your body trembles beneath him as you cry out in a suffocating tone, placing your hands on his broad shoulders causing your figure to jolt with every thrust he delivers.

He savours each moan; he grunts when you close your walls around him, your pussy shapes particularly for him. Your foreheads brush as you stare attentively into each other's eyes, gasping in passionate motion, ‘Listen to the sound’s you’re making.’ Mason smiles, the sounds of your pussy pouring with ecstasy from his dick, fucking you so well, almost making you grit your teeth, eyes stinging. With a gaping angle, Mason’s cock hits your end deeper, and you tremble, shiver, and gush for him.

‘Mase!’ You groan out, anxiously clutching him tight, your fingernails digging into his skin. ‘Mason, please don’t stop, baby.’ Your words barely make it out as a whisper.

His cock dives within you repeatedly, the intimacy is far too intense. The pulse of his cock inside pairs with your perfectly, his tone husky, his praise loving, and his groans sweet.

You feel your core tighten, the burning stretch is unmatched, whimpering needily in his neck as he thrusts faster, quicker, harder, deeper, messier.

A burst of warm release gushes out, wet and spurting, coating his cock.

Your eyes are watering, your skin is sticky with sweat droplets , you feel hot and flushed, uncontrollable pleads and whimpers leaving your throat. Your legs spread widely and your clit is devoured by Mason’s cock, you experience a powerful and extremely strong orgasm that consumes your entire body. Mason’s cock moves at a steady speed. As he continues to drill his hips into your pussy, Mason praises you. ‘That’s it, my good girl,’ with peppered kisses to your skin. ‘Look at how you drip for me.’

Mason smirks, nibbling your neck, watching the way you moan. Senselessly, the curve of his shaft massages your sore, aching walls, leaving you delicate after your release, chasing his own.

Inhaling sharply, Mason feels his own orgasm coming close as his cock twitches through deep gasps and muffled moans. The warm, creamy wetness you’d created for him sent shockwaves of warmth, snapping at every vein in his cock and making every nerve in his body crave you.You hold tight onto his biceps, burying your face in his shoulder when he spills inside you through strings of his glossy cum.The insides of your walls are coated, adding to the milky wet haven you’d held particularly for him.

In the aftermath, your pussy aches around him.

Sensitive and sore.

Deep down, somewhere inside, you feel full, tainted by his quality, silky cum. His member is still dozing in your lush walls in the heat of the aftermath, the euphoria of the heat surrounding us contributing to soothing rides off a soaring high shared between us. Your chest heaving, parted lips, his forehead connecting with yours as his eyes flutter closed, feeling confined inside the woman of his dreams.

You’ll always be the woman of his dreams.

-

hi guys, anyone remember this?! it’s been a while and I found this in my notes so thought why not ;)

[sugar-grigri]

Miri does the chair as much as Denji

The chapter confirms the suffering of the hybrids who turn out to be the "weapons" (thank you Fujimoto for confirming at least one of my theories).

But let's go into a bit more detail in this chapter, which only talks about alienation and never about freedom.

What better title than 'A Chair's Feelings', which is a perfect antithesis.

I have the feeling that something specific has happened, let me explain.

Firstly, Fumiko Mifune plays her role as Denji's guard perfectly. She's not protecting him as a person but as the property of the public hunters.

How does she do this? Firstly because she sticks to Denji, but more importantly she seriously disrupts the discussion between Denji and Sugo.

Every time Miri puts an advantage on the table, she questions it. A high position in the church? Chainsaw Man deserves to be guru.

Steak every day? We're getting tired of it, other dishes would be preferable.

The public hunters represent the opressor who uses Denji as a tool. In other words, the entity that Miri is trying to remove Denji from.

But what's particularly interesting is that Miri doesn't demonstrate free will and spits out someone else's arguments.

What's even more fascinating is that Miri thinks he's going to convince Denji with his own arguments, which turns out to be in vain.

Miri seems like someone who operates on principle and has taken on board concepts such as dignity and freedom, which he now intends to protect. Denji doesn't think like that; he needs concrete arguments to engage him.

For example, Miri presents Denji as his liberator. This has no effect on him, as he was unaware of it because it was Pochita who was fighting. Once again, we're projecting onto the figure of Chainsaw Man the image we'd like him to represent here: the first weapon to free himself from the oppressor that was Makima.

But Miri is far from imagining that not only was Denji not conscious, but that he consciously 'saved' Makima by allowing her to become a new version of herself who would be cherished and loved. Because Makima was never the oppressor, she was merely the object of the Japanese government, which surely also used a few weapons.

That's why I think Miri's way of presenting himself is a step backwards. I don't know if it's intentional, but the way his name appears in the dialogue bubbles and the suspension points…… The syntax is important. Miri knows that his name is just a number given to him by his former oppressor.

In fact, that's why he calls Fumiko "sushi-woman" or refers to the students as rubbish; he doesn't think of them as they never thought of him.

Sugo has no intention of forming a relationship with the humans, whom he seems to reject, which clearly shows that weapons are used by humans, not demons.

But Denji grimaces when he sees that he is so easily popular and integrated, and that he would prefer to be rejected.

Miri rejects humans, wanting only to make friends with weapons, while Denji continues to define himself only by humans. One holds a grudge and wants revenge, while the other still prefers integration. Which already demonstrates a fundamental difference.

Swordman's arguments move from the abstract to the concrete. He starts by talking about abstract concepts such as gratitude (Denji saved him), freedom and having a community, and then starts to integrate the concrete.

He already includes food by using the precise line that Denji had used, namely steaks.

Miri isn't interested in the debate about food, deploring Denji's interest in it, and reiterates in a cruder and more brutal form what he was saying before, "being used by bastards", instead of talking about instrumentalisation and freedom. And again, he has to push Denji to confirm this.

It's obvious that Miri, who presents himself as the messenger of the church, either sent by someone or is carrying out someone's order, is contradicting himself and is not yet free. As Fumiko points out.

When Miri confronts Denji, who is still in the chair position, Denji has a more interesting response than it seems: being a chair suits him because he can feel buttocks against his back.

Being a chair means contact, and physical contact with girls. Even if it's a rather perverse line (and far from the most poetic), it shows that Denji is once again interested in being a chair if it allows him to make contact with his own kind. That he has no abstract concept built in like self-esteem or claiming his dignity.

Even becoming a friend is too abstract for Denji, who doesn't react. He will only react when new physical contact is mentioned, reacting unusually comically.

Miri mentions this last argument as a last resort, leaving as if he was already sure it would be pointless. It's as if someone had told him to mention low, childish things like steak and sex because they were the only things that would convince Denji.

There's a clear dichotomy in Miri's speech between the arguments that convinced him (surely used by the church to hire him) and the other kinds of arguments that would convince Denji, whispered to him by someone in the church who knows Denji.

Who knows Denji? No hybrids, they don't have any memories, so surely not Reze.

I like to imagine that it's Kishibe, since the steak and sex with several girls are explicit things that Denji mentioned in front of him when he proclaimed his dream.

He was also the only one to observe the fight between Pochita and Makima. So he's the only one who can tell us about the hybrids' past. If we support his link with the hybrids through Quanxi...

It all ties together!

If we go back to the title... A Chair Feelings. It takes on a whole new meaning.

Note the use of the indefinite article "a" and not "the" when only Denji is doing the chair? Wouldn't a chair be a broader metaphor and category? The chair would be the form of alienation accepted by the weapons. Still not freedom.

In short, Fujimoto questions one thing: is the man who claims to be free so far removed from the man who makes the chair ?

[silverflqmes]

Do you have any hcs for yandere Sephiroth? 👀

໒⦂ ‘𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄’ 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. hi hi so uh i don’t do yandere stuff, it’s not a topic i’m super comfortable with writing ( as mentioned in my rules ) but i will provide a more subtle, toned down version if that’s okay instead :’)

genre. angst + suggestive

tw. possessive behavior, implied manipulation, jealousy

disclaimer. there is a visible flip in the headcanons from pre nibleheim sephiroth to post — which takes on a darker approach. if it’s not something you are comfortable with reading, then don’t.

sephiroth x gn!reader.

⌗ as a person who dealt with the loss of those he allowed into his life, having brought his walls down for them.. i do think sephiroth might have developed a bit of overprotective behavior — which honestly, is expected..

⌗ he doesn’t want to lose you or for any harm to come your way. whether losing you refers to death.. or to someone else — he doesn’t want any of that to come to fruition.

⌗ everything in life he cherished has been taken from him and you are not about to be one of them..

⌗ normally he’s as cool as a pickle if you’re talking to someone else, but there’s this aura emitting from him.. one look at sephiroth and the innocent bystander is practically shaking in their boots.

⌗ you of course — would be confused as hell on this.. i mean when sephiroth pulls you closer, you just assume he wants proximity..

⌗ until you go home, that is, and he’s just holding you without any means of letting go.. it’s silly, watching that subtle, yet visible pout of his and the furrow to his brows and all is understood

⌗ piece of you by shawn mendes tbh that is where my brain is rn

⌗ sometimes it’s a little more than an inescapable hug and turns into a storm of kisses — perhaps even a mark or few would be left in his wake.. but nothing that makes you uncomfortable cuz he doesn’t want to hurt or force you into anything. consent!!

⌗ while he has selfish desires and would prefer to have you all to himself, he values boundaries and freedom — it’s something he wasn’t given and he isn’t about to take that away from you, too.

⌗ but if you were trying to get a reaction out of him by PURPOSELY trying to make him jealous.. good LUCK walking in the morning are the only words i have for you LMAO

⌗ there is after care tho trust and it’s all part of the plan because he gets to have you stay over and spend time with him<3 which — despite your grumbles — you are more than happy to do<3

⌗ now uh, post nibelheim sephiroth.. he is a different case cuz he’s under the influence of jenova cells — which are obviously making him do some wild stuff..

⌗ following the concept that you would have said cells opens up the opportunity to mess with you a bit, as a means of getting you to execute his whims. kinda like he does with cloud..

⌗ he’s aware you’re trying to take him back and save him from what he’s become, and uses that to his advantage. you would do anything for him, wouldn’t you?

⌗ slowly, he would isolate you from your companions — they want him gone, anyway, but you don’t. you couldn’t sit with the idea of your lover being gone, even in spite of all he had done.

⌗ you told yourself it wasn’t him, and it was true, it wasn’t. for that.. you wished to continue your attempts at saving him, even if it was a descent into madness..

⌗ gradually, you are succumbing to his words, allowing them to reshape the view you had made for yourself.

⌗ he was right, anyway. the humans who blindly believed in shinra- were the ones that gave the company the power and means of further destroying the planet for their glory. sephiroth was right in almost every way to execute the goals he made for himself.

⌗ he only ever appeared briefly to you, his caresses leaving enough of a linger to leave you touch starved — yearning for contact.

⌗ the one winged angel only whispered soon in that velvety tone of his, a reassurance of the reunion that would be upon you both in time.

⌗ but at times, you pressed, pleading for just another second — minute or few of his time.. and with that desperation in your voice, the expression that crosses your features, how could he refuse you?

⌗ he would spare his precious time and entertain you a moment longer, indulging just a bit in you, and himself, of course. but once more leaving you lingering, longing for more.

notes. not one for writing yandere oriented content, so i hope this was okay and fulfilling enough since i watered it down quite a bit :’) just not super comfy associating him with the qualities of a yandere..

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[locketsvault]

「 AYATO WITH INVESTIGATOR S/O 」

pairing: ayato kirishima x gender neutral reader

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, first person, no pronouns/afab gender used, fluff

warnings: canon angst, discrimination mentioned, fluff, sfw “nudity”, back massage with no shirt on, kissing, strictly sfw I promise

request: Hii, can i request some fluff with Ayato (tokyo ghoul) with (an investigator) gn reader? (original request found here.)

word count: 835

a/n: this was honestly quite a hard topic to write about, trying to balance a character who’s angsty, usually mows down investigators happily, with an investigator partner and make it fluffy. I hope it’s to your liking, I did my best to make it fluffy!

You two are a match made in… I can’t say Heaven, that’s a stretch. But you’re definitely a match. How it came to be? That’s a little secret. Some rumors say that you rescued him from being executed, while others say he saved you from being eaten by another ghoul. No matter how though, it was hard to deny you two were a wonderful match.

It was like looking at the black cat and golden retriever trope. It didn’t matter if you were a black cat too, being an investigator made you seem much more lively than a certain emo.

Sadly you two had to keep your relationship a secret from everyone around you, of course with the treat of death on both sides. But after the events of :re you were able to see each other without that threat lingering over your head. And it only made you two closer. You were finally able to move in together, just the two of you in your small apartment near his sisters coffee shop. It was home.

“You’re late.” Ayato stated the second you walked through a door, a false look of annoyance gracing his features.

“Paperwork,” you whined as you took off your coat and shoes. “He’s the worse boss ever, I swear. He makes me write the dumbest reports up, and he always tells me to do it right before I come home.”

“Then quit.” His tone was dead serious, you knew it, and you shot him a light hearted glare for it.

You knew you couldn’t though, you worked so hard to get where you were. He knew how important your job was to you. And he appreciated an open minded investigator among all the well… close minded humans. But he still sometimes wished you quit, for your safety. He also feared having to fight you or accidentally killing you without realizing it was you. That wasn’t fair though, he knew your scent by heart.

You dragged your body to the couch and collapsed onto him with a soft groan. His fake annoyance disappeared, instead replaced with a look of amusement. He can feel your body tense against his, and one touch down your back answered to him exactly why.

“… you were dualing again weren’t you.”

“Yes, but, I didn’t expect to today so I didn’t properly stretch.” You answered as you gave him a guilty smile.

This time he actually gave you a look of annoyance. “Sit up.” He commanded, quiet but affirmative.

“Noooo, I just laid down.” You whined, burying your face into his neck.

All you needed right now was him, to be in his arms, and all the pain would go away. However, that did not work. He huffed and made you both sit up before turning you so your back was facing him. A few sputter and whines later, your shirt was removed and thrown haphazardly on the ground.

“I can practically feel how tense your body is as if it’s my own. No fighting me on this.” The words “let me take care of you” left unspoken but was clearly there.

And how could you say no? So with a faux pout you stayed still as he grabbed some muscle relaxer and started to work it into your soft skin. You couldn’t help but release a hard sigh at the feeling. Your job could be so physical demanding and it wasn’t always easy to take care of your body. Your eyes closed as you took in his touch and warmth. You always cherished soft moments like this with him. He had changed so much since you first met, he had changed for you. You needed this, and you needed some unwinding with him.

“Thank you…” you whispered, breaking the soft silence between you.

You could feel his touch hesitate a bit, still not used to hearing such words in a genuine way. You could hear the almost silent huff and could practically feel the smile he was trying to keep in.

“All done, feel better?” He asked, wiping off his hands before getting up.

You rolled your shoulders and moved around a little. You couldn’t deny, you were feeling much better now. He came back and handed you one of his own shirts, much to your pleasure. You happily put it on and wiggled out of your work pants.

“Thank you my love.” You reached out, pulling him down for a soft kiss.

“You already said that,” he mumbled against your lips before picking you up, “come on, time for bed.”

“Man, my night was just getting started.” You grumbled, rolling your head back.

He rolled his eyes and laid you down, turning off the lights before laying down with you. He pulled you close and caressed your cheek, before kissing you again. It was gentle, more gentle than you were used to from him. He must been feeling extra domestic. You weren’t going to point it out though, it was cute and you loved it.

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[elsecrytt]

Kinktober Day 4

Pegging | Castration | Omegaverse

Pairing: Satoru Gojo/Reader

Warnings: reader is a yandere, gojo is into it, this is basically a comedy believe it or not, gore, a shocking amount of consent for a yandere fic

Pets can be wonderful companions, and a great addition to your family. Especially for a young, single woman like you – a dog can add a feeling of security, and also provide companionship while you’re at home.

But pets aren’t always all fun. Dogs act out for all sorts of reasons.

Bad training. High energy. Need for attention.

In your dog's case, it's separation anxiety.

And "acting out" means Gojo jerks off into your work shoes.

You don't even know how he's getting out of the cage every night. His crate training seems to have failed, but he always obediently goes into the cage at the foot of your bed. Granted, you had to move it so you could stroke his hair as he fell asleep (or pretended to, apparently).

It's not for the sexual release. You'd started jerking him off before bed and that just made him want to jump on you and lick you. You haven’t even started on those kinds of lessons. Gojo’s too quick a study, who knows what he’ll do if you give him access to your cunt and show him how to make you cum.

Fortunately for now, he doesn’t know, and probably wouldn’t ever figure it out. He’s definitely never given a woman head before, which you would normally find repulsive in a man, but you’re pretty sure Gojo’s attitude has just successfully repelled all willing pussy.

This left you, however, with the singular remaining problem of cum in your work shoes.

In a normal relationship, this is where you would talk to your partner about their behavior, explaining how much it bothers you, and convincing them to stop or adjust to make things better.

But Gojo’s not a person, he’s your pet. Even if he’s six foot six and human shaped, he’s just your sweet puppy at the end of the day. He doesn’t understand human speech, even if he’s capable of mimicking it sometimes.

“I’m a sorcerer, you know?” He’d said, “I teach at this one school. My students are going to miss me.”

You’d given him the benefit of the doubt, indulging him with the offer to demonstrate his ‘sorcery’.

Gojo had made a (very cute) concentrating face, then told you to touch him. He looked super surprised when you were able to.

“Wait, what?”

Snapping the collar around his neck, you’d led him off to the life he was destined for, the life of your cherished pet and companion.

Honestly, you’d really saved him. What was a guy like this doing in the real world? Of course he was filthy rich – lucky him – but it terrified you what sorts of people had taken advantage of him before.

What sort of relationships had he been in? He’d accepted the collar right away, even though you’d only just met! It was worrying, how easily he trusted you, even though you really were doing what was best for him. He’d just followed you without question, happily living as your pet.

You’re not protesting, but really, who does that? Satoru Gojo, that’s who. The love of your life who cums in your shoes and peppers your face with kisses as soon as he sees you.

It’s been another frustrating day. He’d messed up all your shoes this time, forcing you to try and wash some, getting to work late. Why does he have to be so difficult?

You spend all day at work thinking of a solution. Of a way to fix him.

It comes to you before you get home. And when you do, he’s waiting for you at the front door, sniffling and quivering like an abandoned puppy. It’s unbearably adorable, and wholly exaggerated.

As soon as you’re in, he pounces on you, hugging you like he hasn’t seen you in centuries, babbling your name and showering you with sloppy kisses.

It’s like he knows you’re a complete sop deep down, and you’ll forgive him for nearly anything if he’s cute and affectionate enough afterwards. Aggravating man. He really is more of a pet than a person.

The two of you spend your day going about various things – Gojo chatters, and you tune it out, humming and petting and giving him an indulgent kiss as you watch TV together, play games, or even cook.

He is useless in the kitchen, always making a mess, and you suspect it’s because he enjoys the fact that you usually opt to give him a bath afterwards.

Truly, more dog than man. It’s your life’s greatest misfortune that you are, thoroughly, a dog person. Or perhaps just a Satoru Gojo sort of person – you can’t imagine raising a dog on top of this. Mostly because you’d have to face the reality that a dog would probably be easier.

“…and I don’t know how you’ve been getting out to begin with,” You finish off your frustrated ramble, setting down the hair dryer as you finish up his hair.

He’s smart enough to clean himself, probably, but you know he likes being pampered. And it’s your privilege as a pet owner to bathe and dry him. Moreover, his hair is unbelievably soft – you run a hand through it, scratching, a sensation he easily leans into.

“Ah, I figured it out ages ago,” He hums, tilting his head up so you can scratch under his chin more easily, “Your technique only works when you’re awake, on things that you can somehow observe.”

Most of his words sound like meaningless barks to you, now. Which means it’s cute, and when he’s being cute, you call him Satoru.

“That’s great, Satoru, sweetie,” You move up to scratch behind his ear and he sighs in bliss, “But you know, you really put me in a tough spot today.”

Pretty blue eyes, wide and pleading, open up. “I’m rich, baby,” He whines, “I can give you all the money you need. Don’t go out every day. Stay with me.”

Boundaries and maintaining separate lives are important for a healthy relationship, but you can’t expect a dog to understand that.

“Baby,” You say gently, “Why do you feel like you always need me there? Are you not getting enough enrichment? I can get you more games to play at home, or books to read. You can even watch TV if you want to.”

He clings to your leg, sniffing, crocodile tears shimmering – but you can tell from how he’s angled that he’s sniffing straight into your crotch, and his legs straddling yours legs his groin rub up against you.

He’s actually incorrigible. You’d be genuinely concerned about someone showing up on your doorstep with a blue-eyed, white-haired child someday, except you’re pretty sure Satoru’s not capable of shutting up and not being annoying for the amount of time it would take to ejaculate inside a woman.

You’re also pretty sure he can’t even get it up with strangers. The only people you know he’s had sex with are – well. It was just one person, who he’d known for years in high school, and who now led a cult. You choose not to think about what that means for Satoru’s taste in partners.

You did stop being a stranger to him relatively quickly, but you’re putting that down to the natural chemistry and magnetism between you.

Even with a friend sneaking in to seduce him as an honesty test, Satoru had remained steadfastly loyal, as all good dogs should be. Your friend, however, didn’t speak to you for a week, and has serious doubts about your taste in men.

“I want youuuuuu,” He whines, nuzzling his face into your hand. Your heart squeezes in your chest. “I miss you so much when you’re gone.”

When you successfully fight the urge to fawn over him, he gives you his best puppy dog eyes. “I’m lonely here by myself, you know. I get separation anxiety. You can’t be mad!”

To his begging, you are immune (your life would have been very difficult otherwise). It is only his stupid thoughtless gestures of affection that move your heart and soul.

“You’re right,” You sigh, “It’s not fair of me to expect you to change your behavior.”

Satoru nods along, as if you aren’t arguing away his personhood. You’d say he’s too much of a pretty, mindless whore to use his brain, but you’re pretty sure he’s well aware of the implications and prefers pethood.

One of your friends had called you crazy, but they didn’t know Satoru like you did.

“Come here, baby, up,” A pat on your lap, and Satoru’s pretty blue eyes brighten right up – he knows what this is.

Gleefully wiggling out of his towel, he sits himself over your knee, cock already half-hard and bouncing against his well-defined abs. You’re going to need to put him on some kind of training regimen or gym time if you want him to maintain that. It’s ridiculously hot.

You take his dick in your hands – it’s a pretty thing. Just long and girthy enough to still look a little slender, all flushed pink at the tip like it’s blushing. Satoru does blush so very prettily.

He bucks into your touch, too, arms wrapped around your shoulders as he shoves himself towards you, but you allow him this indulgence as you tenderly pump him, up and down. Listening to his breathy sighs and moans he probably thinks he’s being very subtle about directing straight into your ears.

They’re still lovely, though. Everything about Satoru is lovely, even if he is terribly annoying sometimes. Everything about him is loveable to you, and always will be, no matter what.

An owner’s love for their dog is unconditional, after all.

Your other hand discreetly picks up the knife you’d left on the bedside table.

“Hhhh~ ahhh, you really are the best,” Satoru pants, clinging to you, nuzzling his face into your hair, licking over the shell of your ear. “Do I get this every night, now?”

You turn your head to place a kiss on his cheek – Satoru whines and chases your mouth with his, cheeks rosy as his cock grows redder in your hands, throbbing and twitching.

“You’re so frustrating sometimes, Satoru,” You say, allowing him his kiss, “But I still love you very much.”

Your hand squeezes harder, harder, thumbing over the slit at the head of his dick until he’s trembling in your lap. Squeaking cutely and half-clawing at the front of your shirt, “Shit, shit, fuck, hnngh, that’s so good – just a little – just let me – ”

Of course it’s good. You’d done it so many times before, after all. He squirms, body tensing as his breaths grow tight, short, his arms squeezing around you –

And then he cums with a sigh, spurting all over your hand. Satoru’s head lolls back, a shuddering gasp escaping him as he relaxes, lashes fluttering a brilliant white against his pink cheeks.

You have the knife at the ready. But first, you kiss his face, on the cheeks, on his teary eyes. He likes kisses, always wants to kiss you on the mouth, but you’re saving that to give him as a special reward, someday.

For the next few moments, you let him sink into the pleasure, feeling how the pulse in his cock slowly ebbs away, his breathing evening out. He’s always been a beauty in the afterglow; it’s no different this time.

When he’s finally soft enough, you bring the edge of the knife right up to the base, coming up from under. Pressing down with your thumb further on his shaft, you yank it upwards by the handle, HARD, enough to make a clean cut. You wouldn’t want this to be too painful, after all.

The gasp he makes is one of pain, but it’s not too unlike his other noises. His whole body shudders against you, and he pants heavily, eyes glassy as his head tilts back in blissful agony.

You hold him in your arms, shushing his sobs tenderly, whispering all the praises you know he loves (that would have made him hard).

“Shh, there’s a good boy,” Hand in his hair, stroking gently, positive reinforcement that he leans into helplessly, “You were so good for me, my sweet darling, you were perfect. My perfect boy.”  

Satoru nuzzles against your hand, pretty eyes and squeezed shut, those fair lashes glistening with tears. Sniveling so pitifully that you can feel yourself getting wetter.

Your hands are gentle now, for all the good it does him, wrapping the bandages around the wound on his crotch.

Oh, what a shame you won’t be doing much with him, soon. He’s so beautiful, all wounded and weepy like this. You’re itching to eat him up… but you’re not so irresponsible as to try that when he’s injured (even if he’d probably want you to).

There’s painkillers, many more hushed words of comfort and reassurance and praise. Satoru doesn’t care for any of the drugs or bandages, but he clings to you when you tell him you’re proud of him, that you made him happy.

That’s your boy. Your darling Satoru.

You let him sleep in your bed that night. After all, he has been a very good boy.

The cage hadn’t been stopping him anyways – but surely this would keep him in bed, too, the appeal of your company, your arms wrapped around him.

When you wake up, Satoru is sleeping peacefully, right where you left him.

Then again, he always is – but you’ve got a good feeling about this one. There’s a special charm – its own reward – seeing him curled up into your side, long limbs sprawled and twined with yours. It’s a little hard to extract yourself.

Really, you’ve got to get a dog bed or something, you think, as you get yourself ready for your day. If you let him sleep in your bed he’s bound to get up to more antics, but it was clear the cage wasn’t really holding him…

It’s something to consider. At least now, one problem is solved. You’ll miss his cock for sure, but not as much now, since you’d never had it in the first place. You love Satoru for himself, after all, and not his body.

You get out your work shoes, and –

“God damn it, Gojo!”