#Turning a cold shoulder. | Verses

[lieblxng]

Update! Since I'm in a Hop mood and I wanted to finish the bio I was working on before I left, I went ahead and finished Hop's full bio! This means the introduction of two new verses for Hop down below:

New Verse | Champion

After cleaning his team up, refining his strategy, staying up day and night training, after years of hopeless crying and hurting–he finally did it. He finally defeated his rival in the semi-finals of the Gym League Challenge and then took on his own brother. It was a difficult, emotional fight, but Hop came on top. After everything he’s been through, finally, people can be proud of him. Leon can be proud of him. Mum can be proud of him. He can be proud of himself. Hop has never been so happy before…

New Verse | Professor

Working alongside Professor Sonia for years, with all the experience he got, had inspired him to pursue becoming a Pokémon Professor himself. With his family and friends’ support, he was able to go through schooling and later came out with a degree. After publishing a book on the topic of Pokémon battling when he graduated, he was able to have a lab built for him in Postwick, near his house. Now he spends his days there, happy that he found his true calling in life.

I'm also currently working on a verse similar to the Eternatus!Leon one, but we'll see, weee- Thank you for reading!

[cyberjam]

ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆

warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!

word count - 2.1k

main masterlist <3

☆ . . . miles morales

I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.

If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.

Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.

He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)

Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.

He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3

"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."

☆ . . . gwen stacy

She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.

Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.

She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.

You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.

She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.

You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.

"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."

☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar

It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).

You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.

He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.

There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.

A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)

He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.

He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...

"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."

☆ . . . hobie brown

What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.

I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.

Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.

He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.

When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)

Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."

Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.

"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."

☆ . . . miguel o' hara

You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.

Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.

He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.

He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.

He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.

If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.

"Can I kiss you?"

omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33

[liketolaugh-writes]

Sick Day Once A Year

I might be too much in love with the Death Echoes trope. So, have a whole bunch of Bruce taking care of Danny. It's basically a sickfic with extra hurt/comfort.

It takes place in the same verse as More Like Home but probably won't happen until after the plot of that fic is done. At this point, Danny has been living with Bruce for a little under a year.

-----

At noon, Alfred called Bruce to ask him to come home early. Bruce turned around and walked out of the board meeting without even looking at anyone, but did throw a distracted 'family emergency!' over his shoulder. He might have carefully cultivated his airheaded Brucie persona, but even then people knew that he took his kids seriously.

He ignored the board member that grumbled 'enough fucking family to have an emergency every day if he wants.'

"What is it, Alfred?" Bruce asked, once he was clear of the board room and in the elevator. Calm. Calm. No running. Brucie doesn't run.

"Master Danny declined to specify the nature of his sick day this morning," Alfred said, in a dry tone that didn't do a bit to hide the worry underneath it. "Apparently the anniversary of one's death is rather... physically harrowing for a ghost. He's admitted that he'd like to have you here."

But of course he hadn't asked for it, because that would require bringing up what he was. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Ten minutes at most."

"I'll let him know. Come prepared to spend several hours in his room, if not the rest of the day. He indicated that he may be well enough to eat by eight or nine o'clock, but even then..."

Meaning he expected to be debilitated until then. "Understood. Should I bring anything?"

"He's not aware of anything that will help, but some topical analgesic might be of use. I will see if I can find anything else to try."

"He's in pain?" Bruce's brow furrowed. Alfred hesitated before answering, which made Bruce's heart sink.

"He is... physically reliving his death, he says, and will be for most of the day. He is in quite a bit of pain."

"These kids will be the death of me," Bruce muttered. Danny hadn't even hinted at anything like this when he asked for the day off. Bruce made a mental note to keep him off patrol the next night as well. The elevator stopped, and he took off at as quick a walk as he dared. "I'll be there in ten."

"Yes, Master Bruce." Alfred hung up, hopefully to return to Danny.

On the way, he collected a few items that seemed promising: IcyHot cream in the strongest available formula, both heat and cold packs, a variety of compression bandages, and some muscle relaxers from the Batcave infirmary.

Bruce knocked on Danny's door. Cool air drifting out of it indicated either Danny or Alfred had turned the thermostat down lower than usual. Fortunately, Bruce had grabbed a jacket just in case.

"'M in," Danny mumbled, barely loud enough for Bruce to make out.

He pushed the door open and was unsurprised to see Alfred seated beside a miserable-looking Danny. He was surprised to see Danny in ghost form, as it wasn't a form he typically spent recreational time in, particularly when he was unwell. Perhaps it made the ordeal easier. Danny was curled up in his bed, on top of the covers, with his jumpsuit removed and a set of soft pajamas in its place. Alfred was running one hand through Danny's soft white hair, slow and comforting, while his other held one of Danny's.

"Hey, chum," Bruce called out quietly, drawing Danny's attention to him. "Heard you're hurting today." Danny hummed unhappily instead of denying it, which was concerning. "Think you'll be able to eat anything for lunch? Applesauce, bone broth, yogurt? Maybe with ectoplasm?" Danny didn't seem to have any intention of leaving ghost form.

Danny started to shake his head, but stopped to consider when Bruce brought up the last point. "Applesauce and ectoplasm," he mumbled. "Maybe. Nothing after like, two, though."

Alfred gave Bruce a warm smile and gently extracted himself from Danny. "I will see to it," he promised. "Do you need anything else, Master Danny? Master Bruce?"

Danny shook his head mutely, and Bruce said, "I'll text you an update once we've tried these." He hefted the bag he was holding. "If you could bring me lunch when you can, I'd appreciate it."

"Of course," Alfred promised. "I hope you feel better, Master Danny."

"Thanks, Alfie."

Alfred left, shutting the door gently behind him, and Bruce took his place, setting the bag at his feet for now. Danny didn't stir from his leaden sprawl, not even to lift his head.

"You didn't have to leave work, y'know," Danny mumbled, half into the pillow. "I'll be okay."

He didn't apologize, Bruce noted. That was progress. "I know I didn't have to. But someone should be here with you."

"I don't-" Danny choked, his hands squeezing into fists as his whole body shuddered and jerked as if tased. Danny panted through the spasm, his whole body rigid, and when it was over he slumped down and let out a weak moan of pain, making no attempt to continue arguing. It took Bruce a moment to remember to breathe, reminding himself forcefully that this was no attack.

"I brought you some stuff," Bruce said, softer. Danny grunted in discontent. Bruce leaned down and opened the bag anyway. "IcyHot lidocaine cream and muscle relaxers." Danny shook his head without looking. Bruce wasn't surprised. He hadn't realized Danny was in ghost form. "Both heat and cold packs." Danny hummed in mild interest but didn't open his eyes. "And compression bandages."

Danny blinked his eyes open to consider them. His usually neon eyes looked dull. "Worth a try," he muttered after a moment.

Good. Something was better than nothing. "Do you need help sitting up?"

Danny's mouth quirked in a dry smile. "Not yet."

He pushed himself up with a grunt, and shrugged off his pajama shirt with intangibility rather than lift his arms. Bruce had to suppress an immediate and visceral reaction to the glowing lines that coiled up his left arm, which he had only gotten glimpses of before; a telltale Lichtenberg permanently etched onto Danny's ghost form. In contrast to the rest of him, which had dimmed to about the light of a glowstick, the Lichtenburg mark was painfully bright.

"Where do you want these?" Bruce asked, lifting one of the rolls of elastic bandaging. Danny cocked his head and considered it. Then he gestured silently, indicating his left arm from his wrist to his shoulder, and twisted to give Bruce access. With the ease of long practice, Bruce started to wrap it. "Anything I should expect?"

Danny watched him unroll the bandages for a minute, around and around, getting halfway up Danny's forearm before he answered. "The pain comes in waves. They'll keep getting longer, more severe, and closer together until around four, and then they'll die down completely about two hours after that." He paused, watching Bruce loosen the bandages around his elbow before moving on. "It won't ever get as bad as actually dying, but it's still pretty bad. And I'll be really emotional for a lot of it, especially when it hits peak."

"When are you not." The words were out before Bruce could think twice about them. Fortunately, Danny laughed, tired but genuine.

"You've got me there. How many rolls of bandages do you have?"

"I brought three. Alfred can obtain more if necessary." Pretty bad, Danny said. Bruce had no desire to experience pain that Danny described as 'pretty bad.' His tolerance was high even for their family.

Danny shook his head. "That should be okay. Can you do my back too?"

"Yes, but I'll need to be closer." Danny scooted to make room, and Bruce shifted to sit next to him, then tapped a spot low on Danny's spine. "Starting here?" Danny nodded. "Alright. Is there anything else I should know?"

Thankfully, Danny seemed to genuinely think about it, but eventually he shook his head. "I've only had two of these," he reminded Bruce. "There's more stuff I don't know, probably."

Ah yes, a frustrating constant. The elusive nature of comprehensive information about ghosts. Even Constantine had large gaps in his knowledge, which Bruce would grudgingly admit was rare for the man. This? This was definitely not in the introductory handbook. Was Bruce now obligated to share information in return? Hn.

Danny squinted at him. "What did Constantine do now?" he asked.

"Constantine."

"You have a very distinct 'thinking about Constantine' face."

"Hn."

Danny smiled briefly, then yelped, curling up like a bug and accidentally dislodging Bruce's grip on the bandaging. Instinctively, Bruce tucked Danny against his side, and Danny shook and twitched against him, a desperate whine tearing itself free as Danny rode out the wave of pain. Bruce all but held his breath until Danny finally slumped again, breathing heavily. His chill crept through the jacket Bruce had slipped on before coming in.

"Ready to keep going?" Bruce prodded, once Danny's breath evened out. Danny laid there for another few seconds, then nodded and pushed himself upright with a wince. Bruce picked up the dropped end of the bandage, tightened what had come loose, and kept going. "You're sore?"

"Ha." Danny lifted his arms slightly, enough to make room for Bruce to work. Bruce shifted and encouraged Danny to rest his arms on Bruce's shoulders, and Danny did, leaning against him. "Yeah, I wake up pretty achy already, even though I don't start getting spasms until ten. Just to make sure I have a really miserable day."

Uncharacteristically bitter, Bruce noted, but unsurprising under the circumstances. He didn't comment. "Remarkably, we don't currently possess any upper back bandages. I'll ask Alfred to retrieve one if you're happy with the results. We do have shoulder and wrist bandages." Bruce finished wrapping Danny's torso but didn't pull away.

Danny turned his head to squint at the bandages peeking out of the bag. "Why'd you bring so many?"

"I know how you died," Bruce reminded Danny evenly. Electrocution implied muscle pain, and Bruce had suspected his left arm would take the brunt of it. Danny shuddered, a natural one this time, and pressed himself against Bruce for comfort. Bruce dropped an arm around his back, holding him. A minute or two passed, and then Danny pulled away with a sigh.

"Okay."

Right, yes. More compression bandages. These went by much faster, simply needing to be strapped on, and soon Danny's hand and shoulder had joined his left arm and mid-back in compression. He seemed satisfied with that and laid back down on the bed, somewhat more relaxed than when Bruce had first come back in. Bruce hesitated, then shifted closer again and set his hand on Danny's upper back, carefully trying to smooth out the painful knots that had developed there. Danny 'mm'ed softly but didn't otherwise react.

Alfred knocked on the door, and Bruce called him inside when Danny made no move to. Alfred pushed open the door and brought in two plates, one for Danny and one for Bruce. Bruce accepted his with a nod.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce said quietly. "Danny, are you up to eating?"

Danny didn't answer at first, but then shifted around to glower half-heartedly at the bowl Alfred had brought. Then he buried his face in Bruce's arm, grumbling, and Bruce's mouth twitched in amusement. It disappeared when another tremor wracked Danny's body, and the young teen bleated in pain, his grip tightening painfully.

Bruce forced himself to breathe evenly this time, and massaged Danny's hand with his own, pressing through the thick bandage. Danny slumped, panting, and with care, Bruce shifted his hand to massage all the way up Danny's arm, coaxing the tension out of the muscles there until he reached Danny's shoulder, skipped past the compression bandage, and pressed his fingers into Danny's back. Danny didn't say anything, but he pressed into Bruce gratefully and stayed relaxed. Somehow, still, Bruce was startled when Alfred joined him, cupping Danny's temple in one hand.

"Master Danny?" Alfred coaxed, more firmly than Bruce had. "Can you stomach some applesauce?" Danny whined, a softer-toned protest than the low keens of pain he'd let slip. "I know, but you will feel worse if you don't eat anything. I don't think you want that."

Danny grumbled something that sounded like 'no' and acquiesced, allowing himself to be propped up just enough to poke the glowing applesauce with a spoon. He brightened a little at the reminder that Alfred had added ectoplasm, and started to eat. Bruce followed his example and worked quickly through his sandwich.

"I see you're making good use of our extensive collection of medical garments," Alfred said to Bruce, making Bruce snort quietly. "Will you be needing anything else?"

"If he's satisfied with the improvement from these, we'll need one for his upper back as well," Bruce said. "I'll let you know."

"Perhaps after this, the collection will be complete."

Danny got through about half the applesauce before he pushed it away, and Bruce set it on a clear spot on his nightstand before Alfred could pick it up. He glanced up at the butler. "I'll see if I can coax more of this into him later."

Alfred gave him a small smile. "Very well. I'll check in later to see how the two of you are doing."

Bruce nodded, and Alfred left to attend to the manor. Bruce turned his attention back to Danny and considered him. He had a few more questions - why Danny was staying in ghost form, if there were any physical effects from this - but nothing that couldn't wait until Danny was less ill. He picked up his tablet instead. "Would you like me to read to you?"

Danny tilted his head up to look at him, then nodded. It was barely twelve thirty and he already looked exhausted, pale even for his ghost form and cradling his left arm protectively. Bruce hoped he'd be able to sleep at some point, but that seemed unlikely until the pain had passed, which apparently would not be for hours.

Bruce picked up his tablet and quickly downloaded a book. Danny had mentioned wanting to read 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' a few times, but hadn't gotten around to it yet. "The story so far: in the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move."

Danny snickered softly.

As always, reading to his kids made time pass a little faster. It also gave him easy access to the digital clock, and with the note function innate to the Kindle app, he could keep track of the time and Danny's progressing condition, most importantly the interval between spasms and the relative severity of the pain.

After half an hour, he noted that the current interval period was about twelve minutes and asked Danny, "Are the compression bandages helping as much as desired?"

Danny nodded. He'd pulled a thin blanket over himself after a while, mainly for comfort, and his hold on his left arm was still loose enough that Bruce believed it was more psychological than physical for the moment. "Hurts less when I can't jerk around so much. One for my upper back would be good. The shoulder one isn't quite cutting it." He made a face.

Bruce shot off a text to let Alfred know. "Anything else you want?"

Danny wrinkled his nose. "Heat pack?" he asked, softer and more tentative, as if there was anything Bruce would say no to right now.

And that was simple enough. Bruce activated one of the handheld heating packs and handed it to Danny, who shuffled around a little before putting it on his neck, by the junction of his shoulder. Bruce picked his tablet back up and continued reading.

Alfred returned about twenty minutes later with the requested bandage, and Danny didn't protest when Bruce went to help him sit up. He wasn't weakened, Bruce judged after a minute, but there was a minute tremble in his muscles that indicated the pain was ramping up even outside of the periodic spasms.

Bruce helped him get the new compression bandage on, and then paused to smooth out some of the building tension there. Danny leaned in gratefully - he was much more physically affectionate than most of Bruce's children, he'd come to realize, except perhaps Cass and Dick. Bruce kept an eye on the clock, and made sure to get Danny down before the next spasm hit. Danny groaned, the sound drawn-out and wavering unhappily, and clung to Bruce through it before falling into a shivering, panting slump.

Alfred ran his fingers through Danny's hair, nodded to Bruce, and left quietly, as harried as ever when one of the kids was suffering.

"You happy like this, chum, or do you want to lay back how you were?" Bruce asked Danny quietly. Danny grunted, then squirmed further into Bruce's lap. It was a little eerie, Danny being so light and cold in this form that Bruce could have mistaken him for a lap full of snow, but it made Bruce smile for a moment. "Alright."

He settled down and picked up his tablet to resume reading, noting the time and event before he continued.

A part of Bruce, a not-so-small part, was furious that Danny had meant to handle this alone, without anything to even try to ease the pain; it reminded him of when nine-year-old Tim had caught a bad strain of flu, and how confused he had been when Alfred insisted on him staying at Wayne Manor to be cared for. This might not have been particularly dangerous, it was true, but Danny was miserable now and only promised to get more so through the day.

He wondered briefly how Danny had spent the previous two such events. Certainly not with his parents, there being no human explanation for this. Could he even be home for it, in the comfort of his own room, or did he have to go elsewhere? Had he been alone for either of them? It unfortunately seemed likely, especially if he hadn't known about it in advance the first time.

Even with the bandages stabilizing half his upper body, Danny's groans and whines slowly progressed into low keens of pain, and he started to clutch at himself through each one, gasping for breath like it was the only thing that would bring him comfort. Bruce shifted so one of his hands rested on Danny's shoulder, where a gap between the shoulder and upper back bandages seemed to be creating a sharp spot of pain that Danny kept trying to get at. He massaged it carefully without looking away from the tablet, and Danny relaxed a little, panting.

At two thirty, Danny started to cry, exhausted tears shining on his cheeks and faint, breathy sobs following each spasm. At three, Bruce noted that the interval had decreased to six minutes, then set the tablet aside and transferred his attention to comforting Danny.

"How are you feeling, chum?" he asked quietly.

"Hurts, God, it hurts," Danny choked out, trembling like a leaf and his better hand clamping down on his shoulder again. "'S so cold, Bruce. It's in my bones. Shouldn' be in me."

Cold. Ectoplasm? Bruce wasn't sure. Danny had never described his accident at length. "Heat pack?"

Danny nodded jerkily, so Bruce leaned forward, careful not to jostle him, and grabbed a few. He lifted the blanket enough to place one on Danny's upper back and one on his lower, then noted the time and the request. If this was indeed a yearly event, a thought that made his blood boil, they'd need to be better prepared for it next year.

A stray thought crossed Bruce's mind. Did this happen to Jason as well? Jason had never referenced anything of the sort, but he also knew that Jason never went out on the anniversary of his death. Bruce would know; he'd specifically looked out for him the first few years, before the habit became apparent, and still kept half an eye out since.

Danny cried out, no longer making any effort to muffle the noise, and seized and jerked through another long episode. Bruce counted silently. Up to thirty-three seconds. When it was over, he sobbed and curled closer to Bruce.

"Why'd they have to build that stupid portal?" Danny choked out. Bruce ruthlessly clamped down on another wave of rage at the eldest Fentons. "God. A-ah. This sucks. I wanna go to bed. I want it to be over." His voice cracked.

Sleeping pills, or a sedative? They wouldn't work on Danny's ghost form either, but depending on why he wasn't reverting to human, they could try to get him to sleep through as much of the day as possible. Something to discuss later on. "It's 3:16." Danny whined in protest. "I've got you. What hurts the most?" He checked on the heat pack by Danny's neck, making sure it was still in place.

"My chest hurts," Danny sobbed quietly, his face wet with tears. "My heart is stopping."

Unfortunately, Bruce couldn't help with that. He set his hand on Danny's chest anyway, and Danny reached up and clutched at it, apparently finding comfort in the futile gesture all the same. Even his hand trembled.

"'M scared, B," Danny confessed after another minute, almost too quiet to hear. Bruce's chest tightened, and he breathed through another wave of frustration and hatred before he could soften his voice enough to reply.

"You're going to be fine, Danny. You'll be in pain for a few more hours, but that's all it is."

"'M already dead," Danny murmured. From inflection, Bruce deduced that it was meant to be self-soothing.

Bruce's throat ached. "...Yes."

At four o'clock, the interval dropped to two minutes, counting from the end of one spasm to the start of the next. It barely gave Danny time to breathe, and he tossed and turned until Bruce moved both of them so Danny could sit up and hold onto him, crying into his shoulder. Danny held on with bruising force - and no more, as careful as Clark even now - and jerked, hands tightening and loosening in Bruce's jacket with the ebb and flow of relived pain.

You did this to him, Bruce thought at the elder Fentons, more than once.

At exactly 4:36 - Bruce was keeping as close an eye on the clock as he could manage - Danny screamed. Bruce immediately recognized the sound from an echo audible in his Ghostly Wail. Bruce's jacket tore under Danny's hands, and a horrible, quaking tremor seized Danny in an unmistakably fatal grip. Bruce counted the seconds and held Danny too tightly for him to accidentally shake himself loose.

Forty-six seconds. That was how long the worst spasm held him. Bruce assumed that was also how long it had taken Danny to die.

In contrast to the other times, when it finally released him, Danny pressed in closer instead of loosening his grip, and sobbed hysterically.

"No, no," Danny choked out, and "Please, I don't wanna-" and "Dad, Dad."

What did you say after something like that?

"I've got you," Bruce settled on. "You're safe. You're with me."

Danny calmed down slowly, sobs dying down into heaving breaths and then into a deep but labored rhythm that closely matched Bruce's but seemed to take much more effort. The next spasm that hit was much lighter, lasting only eighteen seconds, but it still sent Danny into renewed shudders and tears, holding on tightly.

When Danny seemed calm enough, Bruce shifted him enough so that Bruce could hold him in one arm, then pulled his tablet back over and logged the time of death, length of the accompanying fit, and what had followed. Interval immediately increased back to more than ten minutes (Bruce had unfortunately missed the precise time) and period decreased to eighteen seconds.

Danny set his head on Bruce's shoulder.

After that, things got much easier. At 5:15, Danny removed himself from Bruce's lap to lay down. He removed all of the heat packs and passed them to Bruce, but kept the compression bandages on. He didn't reach for the blanket but hummed gratefully when Bruce pulled it over him anyway, and Bruce sat on the floor beside him and debated returning to reading aloud.

"Whoa. You two look wiped."

Bruce looked up. Duke had opened the door to talk to them, probably too worried by what he'd seen through the door to remember to knock first, and his expression was pinched with worry. "Duke. Anything on patrol?"

"Uh, some movement I'll tattle to Jason about, but nothing big." He studied them with concern. "How's Danny doing? I didn't realize he was this sick."

Hm. Had Alfred declined to explain what had happened? Bruce glanced at Danny as the teenager hummed unhappily, but Danny didn't say anything else, so Bruce provided, "He's had a long day. I expect he'll go to sleep soon. We'll debrief tomorrow."

"Debrief?" Duke frowned at him, understanding immediately that there was more than what he'd been told, but then he glanced at Danny and just nodded. "Alright. Feel better soon, Danny. Get some rest, okay? I'll let Alfred know how you're doing."

Danny's hum this time was more positive.

At 5:30, Danny fell asleep. At 5:45, Dick came in to check on them and left once he'd come to look at Danny's sleeping (calm) face, and at 6:15, Cass came in with a plate of food for Bruce and a few granola bars for Danny. For when he wakes up, she signed.

A little while after 6:30, Bruce fell asleep without meaning to.

[missaengg]

Massaging Lord Sukuna

Day 23 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation hosted by @xxsycamore found here Featuring: Jujutsu Kaisen | Sukuna x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, massage, hand job, Lord Sukuna, servant reader, Sukuna is massive Prompts: Massages | “That's it, you're doing such a good job.” ao3 link here.

“Enter.”

The deep, foreboding voice commands you through the sliding doors. You enter, hastening to your Lord’s feet and falling to the ground in a deep bow.

“You called for me, my Lord?”

“Uraume tells me you’re well-versed in the art of massage.” “Y–yes, my Lord.” 

You keep your eyes trained on the polished wooden floor. You’ve heard the stories whispered among the other servants, how Lord Sukuna can change his mood on a whim, how if you happen to be present when his mood shifts… You shiver. You’ve seen the empty beds of those who entered his chambers and never returned.

“Stand before me.”

You scramble to your feet keeping your head bowed. You don’t dare look him in the eyes.

“Look at me.”

Trembling, you raise your chin, tentatively gazing into his cold, demon eyes. They appraise you slowly, taking his time to drag over every inch of your tiny form. You hold your breath, terrified of making the wrong move and catching his ire. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he looks away, releasing you from his hold.

“Do not disappoint me, wench.”

You inaudibly release the tense breath you’re holding in your lungs. “Yes, my Lord.”

Lord Sukuna disrobes, casually slipping the luxurious silk material fluidly off his shoulders and discarding it carelessly to the side. You gasp and avert your eyes quickly, a blush blooming on your cheeks at your Lord’s unabashed naked form. It’s your first time seeing a man – if Lord Sukuna can be considered a man – bare, and you’re surprised by how much you relish it, at the rush of heat overwhelming you. While it’s no secret Lord Sukuna has an informidable build, seeing him disrobed… you can’t help, but admire just how chiseled he is, how clearly each contour of his body is outlined under his flesh.

“Where…” You clear your throat, reaching for the massage oil. “Where would you like for me to focus, my Lord?”

“My shoulders and my back. Do not skimp on the pressure.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

You get to work briskly, slathering a generous amount of oil on your hands, rubbing them together to warm up the oil so your hands aren’t too cold. You don’t know if he’ll mind, but you prefer not to find out at the cost of your life.

Desperately attempting to quell your shaking, you place your hands on his shoulders, feeling his taut muscles ripple under your palms. You can tell that he’s tight, and you knead along the fibers, pressing as hard as you can with your thumbs. You run your thumb along a particularly dense knot, and Lord Sukuna grunts. Lightening your touch, you wonder if perhaps you’ve pressed too hard, and you wait with bated breath, waiting to see if he’ll turn on you in rage.

“Harder, brat. Do not make me say it again.”

You bite your lip to keep from squeaking in fear. “Y–yes, my Lord.”

You dig your thumb in the knot again, harder this time, rocking it back and forth to loosen what you can. Lord Sukuna grumbles in displeasure, your thumb too weak against the thick fibers of his dense muscle. Coating your elbow in oil, you press your bony joint into the stubborn point. You relax when Lord Sukuna sighs, now using your forearm and elbow to soothe the strain in his back.

“Uraume was right. You are satisfactory.”

A rare utterance of praise.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

The tense clench of your body begins to subside as you focus on the task at hand, finding a rhythm to the way your arms slide along his broad torso. You frown when your thumbs travel down towards his waist. His lower back is an impenetrable column, even tighter than the knots in his shoulders. Re-coating your hands with more oil, you rake your knuckles against the firm ropes of muscle, following the path to his glutes. 

You almost topple over once you realize where your hands are placed.

“F–forgive me, my Lord. I did not mean to touch you indecently.”

Lord Sukuna simply chuckles. “You wish to seduce your Lord?”

“No, my Lord!” You throw yourself into a deep bow even though you know Lord Sukuna can’t see you. “For–forgive me, my Lord!”

Lord Sukuna sighs. “You may continue.”

Shaking, you place your palms back down on his glutes, but the heels of your palms are too feeble against his powerful muscle. You wince. You have no choice, you’ll have to use your knees. Hiking the hem of your yukata up to your hips, you coat your knees in massage oil.

“Please excuse me, my Lord.”

“Hm?” Lord Sukuna’s bored hum hangs in the stifling tension, but he doesn’t move, uninterested in your next move.

You carefully climb on top of your Lord, your knees moving in opposing circles on his cheeks, leaning with your hands on his shoulder blades. You’re practically laying on top of him attacking both his glutes and his upper back simultaneously, painfully aware of your close proximity. You can feel his body heat radiating off of him in heavy crashing waves. For such a cold, imposing demon Lord, his body heat is impossibly, scorchingly hot, and you’re burning in its presence.

Lord Sukuna tenses, and you freeze. Are you not using enough strength? Remembering his earlier threat, you prepare to sink more of your meager weight into his flesh when he suddenly rises, and you tumble unceremoniously off his back to the hard floor below. 

Your breath catches in your throat, fear dancing in your now teary eyes. Is this where your life will end?

Lord Sukuna simply flips over in one swift movement, his back now on his futon. You catch a glimpse of his impressive twitching cock, and you almost choke at the sheer, monstrous size of his appendage. It’s standing at attention, fully engorged, a bead of something glistening on his tip. It’s your first time seeing a cock in real life, but they can’t possibly be this big… Can they?

“I’ve changed my mind…”

You forcefully tear your wide eyes away from his lap.

“I want you to work on my front.”

You’re still too dazed to fully comprehend Lord Sukuna’s request or wonder why he suddenly changed his mind when you’ve hardly worked on his back, which is still a mess of crunchy, tangled fibers. All you can do is stutter, “Yes, my Lord,” before moving to kneel by his head.

You jump when Lord Sukuna grabs you by the wrist, snapping you out of your dazed trance.

“By my side.”

You blink. You don’t understand why he wants to keep you by his side to massage his chest. The best placement for the neck and chest is with his head cradled between your knees, but you comply. You aren’t reckless enough to argue with him. What Lord Sukuna wants, Lord Sukuna gets.

“Yes, my Lord.”

You kneel by his chest. Despite the awkward angle, you do your best to knead his pecs. 

“Lower.”

You move your hands down until they’re directly cupping his chest.

“Lower.”

Abs aren’t quite an area that’s normally massaged, but you accede. While humans don’t generally prefer having their stomachs pressed, perhaps demons are different in that regard.

“Lower.”

This time you pause. Lower would mean… you blush furiously at what his command is implying.

“My Lord?”

“You heard me, brat. Lower.”

You hesitantly slide your hands lower following the trail of hair leading down to his… your blush deepens. There’s only one thing in that region that’ll require a massage, and it’s currently twitching quite violently in your view.

“Do I need to spell out what I want?”

The irritation threading through his words is clear. 

“N–no, my Lord.”

You know what he’s asking you to do. Taking in a deep breath, you grasp his thick shaft, your tiny hand barely able to close around its full girth. It’s throbbing, the protruding veins pulsing in a steady yet demanding rhythmic beat. You exhale. The feeling of a man’s dick is foreign to you, and you’ve heard other ladies giggling over their midnight trysts with the other men, but this is your first time even holding one in your palm, much less one this massive. 

Struggling to remember what exactly was shared in the cover of night, you timidly move your oil-slicken hand up and down his shaft. Are you supposed to squeeze? How fast are you supposed to go? Do you include the tip?

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears prickling your eyelids. You so desperately want to please your Lord, but you have no idea what you’re doing, and you’re too scared to ask. Too scared of the consequences that may follow.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?”

“No, my Lord.”

“Hm. Interesting.”

Lord Sukuna is staring at you, contemplating something in his head. There’s a look in his eyes you can’t quite read. You don’t know whether you should be struck with fear or something else entirely or a combination of both. Your hand stills. The moment is tense with unspoken words.

“Apply more pressure and increase your pace gradually.”

Relief floods your anxious, fearful heart. For whatever reason, he is being patient with you, and you’re grateful for his mercy. You strengthen your grip around him, and pump, twirling around his shaft to cover every exposed inch.

“That's it, you're doing such a good job,” Lord Sukuna purrs, his eyes still trained on you, still gleaming with the something you can’t identify.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

“Do not forget to include the head of my cock.”

Your hand aches. After the strenuous exertion of massaging Lord Sukuna’s dense body and the width of his member, your fingers are cramping, at their limit, but you refuse to give in to the strain. Lord Sukuna has spared you several times already, and you’re determined to keep him pleased.

Lord Sukuna growls quietly under his breath, and you take a peek, taken aback at the rosy flush that has appeared on his cheeks and at the way his eyes are rolling under his eyelids and his mouth hangs open. His breaths are rapidly shallow.

He’s enjoying this.

Emboldened by your Lord’s response, you pump furiously. This time remembering to include the bulbous head. Your hand glides easily, the massage oil acting as a slick lubricant allowing you to increase your pace smoothly.

Your aim is to please your Lord, but you feel unsettled by the way your thighs are rubbing together, the way his growl has awoken a fluttering in your belly, the way you ache and throb between your legs.

Sukuna’s growls grow louder, interspersed with guttural grunts, all laced with a feral edge. Every so often his hips jerk against your fist until his cock pulls taut, and with a fearsome groan he erupts, shooting wave after wave of his white cum, his explosion so powerful and copious, his cum is spilling over your fist and spurting onto your clothes.

The ladies spoke of what happens when a man is pleasured, but this… This is something else entirely. Lord Sukuna’s release is a relentless torrent of white far beyond anything you’d previously heard. 

Lord Sukuna finally stills, his breathing labored. Despite spilling an impressive amount, his cock is still undeniably firm. He cracks his eyes open, and he languidly smirks, taking in the way you’re practically bathed in his cum.

“You have pleased me, little one.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” You bow, ignoring just how drenched you are from his release. “If you are satisfied, I shall take my leave.”

You’re so shaken from how much pleasure you also felt from pleasing your Lord, you forget you must first be dismissed before leaving his presence.

Lord Sukuna narrows his eyes, and he grabs you by the arm, pulling you closer towards him. “I’m not done with you, brat,” he hisses.

You flinch, recognizing your impudence. “I’m sorry, my Lord,” you whisper, flushing from how close his face is to yours.

Lord Sukuna trails his finger down your cheek, a wicked grin gracing his lips. You look into his eyes, finally understanding the gleam you couldn’t identify earlier.

Ravenous hunger.

He brings his lips so close to your ear, they brush your helix causing you to shiver, and says…

“I won’t be done with you until morning.”

[skeltnwrites]

A/N: I think this is the first time I've ever been so emotional about something I've written 😭 this hit a little too close to home for me

Summary: You help Eddie wash his hair when he can't. | 0.9k words

TW: depression, best friend!reader

“Nooo,” Eddie whines, voice muffled by blankets. “Stop– Seriously!” 

Your grip around his ankle only tightens from where you’ve fished it out of his cocoon. You tug, ripping his sock off in the process, until he’s halfway off the couch, clinging onto a cushion like his life depends on it. 

“You’re so annoying,” he slumps into a sitting position on the floor, eyes peaking out of the fold in his comforter. 

You crouch in front of your best friend. “Yes, but you love me.” 

He leans away when you peel the corner of the blanket away. He’s pale, which is typical, but it’s summer and he looks borderline vampirish with how visible his veins are. A palm brushes his bangs back to meet the knot secured to his crown. He bends away from your touch a second time. 

“Hair’s greasy,” he mumbles; a weak excuse, like you’d ever care about that. 

“I can wash it for you,” you offer seriously. 

His lips tilt into a sort of smile and his brows knit together, “What? Like in the sink?” 

“If you want?” 

He hums, “Prolly uncomfortable.” 

“Okay, in the shower then.”

A real smile this time. “If you want to see me naked just say that.” 

You punch his shoulder lightly. Normally you’d shove him hard without a second thought, and he’d probably push back equally, but it feels wrong to do so when you know he won’t put up a fight. “You can put swim trunks on.”

“I don’t feel like changing.”

“Okay, then in this.” You pinch the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. 

“That’s a little weird.”

“Since when do you care about weird?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, “I guess. If you want.” 

In the bathroom, you turn the shower knob, “Hot or cold?” 

“Warm.” He’s slumped on the toilet lid in his pajamas, having ditched the duvet in the hall. 

“Okay, here.” You whisk the curtain open fully. 

He shoots you a look that says, ‘Am I really doing this?’ before stepping into the tub. His eyes widen when you climb in right after him.

“You’re crazy,” he grins and it makes your heart leap. You’ve missed the way his eyes crinkle at the edges and his lashes kiss the tips of his cheeks when he smiles. 

“Not as crazy as you.” You hook a finger under his scrunchie, gently working it until his curls spill over his shoulders. 

He sighs, eyes drawing shut when you tilt his head back. His clothes are already soaked through, clinging to his slender frame like a second skin. He blocks most of the stream but stray droplets catch your arms where they connect with his head.  

“Have you eaten yet?” You ask, massaging shampoo through his hairline. “I could go for some takeout right about now.” 

He blinks at you. “I know what you’re doing.”

You crane his head to the side to scrub his nape, “I’m not doing anything. I’m hungry.”

You’re not looking, but you practically feel him roll his eyes. 

“So, pizza?” 

He knows you only suggest it because it’s his comfort food, but he’s too tired to argue about getting something you both want. Eddie nods into your hand. You thumb his cheek, studying him self-indulgently while his eyes are sealed again. 

You work conditioner through his dead ends, tenderly detangling, and sticking spirals of black hair on the shower wall as they are combed out. 

Silent tears mingle with the water dripping off his chin. The tremble in his breath gives him away and you acknowledge it with a wordless hug. He reciprocates, squeezing you under the warmth of the showerhead. His nose digs into your collarbone and you trace the knobs on his spine. 

This is not the first time you’ve seen him cry, or held him while he did, for that matter. You are well-versed in handling his depressive episodes. Knowing when to push and when not to pry. Knowing when to hold him and when to give him space. And most importantly knowing that most of the time he just needs someone there. Not to talk about it necessarily but to just be with him for a night so he can pretend not to feel like shit for a few hours. 

You wrap him in a towel and scour his room for fresh pajamas. There was a time when he’d have been embarrassed to let you see his room in such a state, but you’ve drilled it into his head that you love all of him, even the messier parts. 

You change out of damp clothes in his room while he does in the bathroom. A handful of his things are put away while you’re in there, but not enough for him to scold you for doing so. 

He meets you back in the living room where he sinks back into his spot in front of the TV. You dial his favorite pizza place before joining him on the couch to brush and braid his hair. He thanks you, though you don’t need it. 

With his legs thrown across your lap and half a greasy pie split between your bellies, the hum of a movie soothes you both to sleep. Outside, the world spins on, but for now, here with him, everything feels still.

[darklordofthesimp]

Anything (König x Reader)

The 1st instalment in the Anything-Verse

Main Masterlist

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Like the characters? Read their fics below!

Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist

Series Summary:  A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

A/N: I have no idea how we got here

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Forced Proximity || Enemies to ?

Warnings: Graphic description of violence || Graphic description of injury || Graphic language

“You’re a liability.”

The words rang like a church bell. You were never one for petty violence but in that moment, after he’d so calmly said the words, you thought that you just might kill him.

“A liability?” You hissed, glaring at your superior like he’d grown two heads. “I’m a sniper, Sir, not a fucking ninja.”

The captain simply shifted his weight lazily, unfazed by your temper. He’d dealt with it many times throughout the years but it hadn’t bothered him because you weren’t inherently his. You were somebody else’s spitfire, under another unit’s command; but now you were part of the 141 and you needed to learn.

“Come on, Birdy. You know I’m right.”

Birdy.

You had Soap to thank for the name. ‘Snipers and birds both shit on people from above’. It wasn’t creative and honestly you could have thought of one hundred better names to offer, but once Ghost started addressing you by Birdy, it was set in stone.

When you said nothing, he continued.

“You can’t fight your way out of a wet paper bag,” he scoffed, swallowing a snort when your eyes widened. “Sniper’s need to defend themselves too, Birdy. You learnt that the hard way, remember?”

How could you not?

The knife wound had healed but the memory of it had not. Images of the hooded man wedging a blade into your shoulder flickered across your vision. Fists bearing down onto your jaw. Fingers wrapped around your throat.

A chill skittered across your skin.

“So, what’s your suggestion?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

When the corner of Price’s mouth quirked upward, you’d already begun to regret asking.

“Simple, really.” He shrugged, “someone’s gonna train ya.”

Your stomach dropped and a cold shiver traced the length of your spine.

“Who, Sir?” Your voice was barely a whisper. “Ghost’s not here. Everyone’s on leave.”

Price smirked.

“Not everyone.”

___

You felt nauseas.

Anxiety had your stomach in a death grip, and it was all you could do to not throw up. Pacing up and down the gym mats, you tried to cool your nerves.

There was only one person that had remained a complete anomaly to you and now he’d been given literal permission to beat the shit out of you.

Training.

You remembered what they loved to call ‘training’ at your old unit. You’d never been the fastest or the strongest, that was not your job. You were the one who could take make an impossible shot a kilometre away, but that’s not what ‘training’ entailed.

Your body ached at the memory.

There was a small noise by the doorway and your body stiffened. He was letting you know that he was there, his equivalent of a knock.

You both knew that he could have had you on your back whenever he pleased.

“König.” You acknowledged him as confidently as you could, turning to face the beast head on.

The giant stood in the doorway looking like the fucking bogey man himself.

“Birdy,” König inclined his head. Those dark, watchful eyes observed you from beneath his hood, taking in your visage. Heat licked the back of your neck and you began to sweat under his gaze.

He was clad in his usual getup from the waist down, the tactical cargo pants and the hefty boots being his barracks favourite. It was the hoodie that had caught you by surprise, you’d seen it a few times in passing, but up close it rendered you breathless.

“I didn’t realize you were staying with the 141,” you said, swallowing nervously as he stepped into the room, ducking his head to avoid hitting the frame above.

This was a sick, sick joke.

“My transfer was approved,” was the only explanation that he offered you.

You knew, logically, that what had happened between the both of you had been a misunderstanding. It was a communication failure on behalf of the brass that had almost gotten you killed but the idea of working with him, training with him, made your stomach drop.

König’s hands got to work removing his gloves and the memory of those fingers wrapped around your throat made you flinch.

You’d set up a sniper’s nest atop the rooftop, watching the entrance of the building the 141 was infiltrating. They were going to flush out the target and send him running right into your line of fire.

No-one had been informed of KorTac’s involvement.

You’d heard König before you’d seen him, the dismantling of your trip mine giving you enough indication to roll onto your back to investigate. By then, he was already upon you.

You’d kicked the rifle from his hands but that was where your advantage finished. He’d dragged you by your ankles from your weapon, straddling your flailing body as he got to work. The knife he’d brandished stabbed into your flesh violently, and at first, you’d thought he only punched you.

Until the searing hot pain bloomed across your body and blood sprayed across his hood.

Those emerald eyes were wild and hard as he gripped your face over your balaclava. You couldn’t think to react, dizzied by the agony of knife he twisted into your skin. His palm covered the entirety of your features, fingers tight against your temples as he pulled your head forward then smashed it back into the concrete.

You thought your skull had exploded.

Fists ploughed into your jaw but it was as though you were numb now. Finally, his fingers were drawn to your throat, squeezing tightly as he leaned in. The cloth of his hood brushed against your battered body, filling the space between you as his lips pressed against your ear.

“Your fight is finished,” he hissed heatedly. Then König pressed down into your skin.

You don’t remember what happened afterward. You knew that he’d been called off by his chain-of-command just in time to stop himself from ending your life, but that was according to Soap.

You were in a coma for two weeks.

It took you months to recover.

And only once you came back to work, fit to fight and ready to go, had you discovered that König had applied to transfer into the 141 shortly after the incident. KorTac had offered him up to fill in your position while you recovered.

Not only had the bastard nearly killed you but he’d taken your place.

Now that you were back, he would lose his place as a sniper and be back to running with the team on the ground.

König watched you carefully from where he stood.

“You’re my instructor,” you said plainly, stating the obvious. “Price made you my hand-to-hand combat trainer.

“Ironic, isn’t it,” his voice came quietly from beneath the hood, a small snort following in suit.

You would have laughed had you not been so fucking terrified. You were about to take your place back on the team, a position this giant clearly wanted and now he was given the chance to put you back into the hospital with no questions asked.

You wouldn’t be able to do anything against him. König was a mountain of a man, a force to be reckoned with, and while he tried to make himself as disarming as possible it was implausible to hide that frame.

“Did you want to get started?” König asked, leaning his hip against the table beside him. He was so casual for someone who had nearly killed you.

“No,” you said simply.

“Are you not up for this?” König ventured carefully, pushing off the bench and taking a slow step towards you. Your heart thrashed against your ribs at his approaching figure and you forced yourself to stay still. “You still have bruising-“

“That’s what happens when someone shatters your fucking face, cunt,” you snapped, casting your gaze from his. You were hoping that he wouldn’t bring it up, everyone had danced around your condition for so long. No one spoke about how fucking ugly you looked as you tried to recover.

“It was an accident,” his voice was hard, almost bewildered at your sudden aggression. “We both paid the price for someone else’s mistakes.”  

“Don’t talk to me about paying the price, you fucker,” you snapped, shoving against his chest. König yielded a step and it infuriated you even further to know that he’d allowed it. “You got the fucking job you wanted, you got the transfer you wanted, you got the training you wanted. Didn’t you?”

“Yes, but-“

“You wanna know what I got?” You snapped, shoving him harder this time. König’s eyes narrowed and he snatched your wrists, holding them against his ribs to stop your assault. You continued anyway, walking his body backward until his heels hit the wall. “I got put into a fucking coma.”  

König’s gaze softened, his chest heaving beneath your hands. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your fists, you could hear his breaths grow ragged.

“I know,” he murmured, his fingers tightening on your wrists. “I was assigned to watch over your bed for those two weeks."

You stared at him for a long moment, sniffling and gasping for air after your rant. König lowered his head and his grip loosened.

“What I did to you…” he trailed off, unable to meet your gaze. How ugly must you have become that he couldn’t withstand looking at his own handiwork?

You turned around, hiding the hot tears forming along your lashes. You were so fucking ashamed by the terror gripping your throat, embarrassed by how much your image affected you. You hated feeling disgusting. You felt like everyone’s eyes were on you at all times it was suffocating you, they gawked and stared and whispered about how your 'pretty face was ruined.'

You began to understand why people wear masks.

“You ruined me,” you rasped. “And I couldn’t do anything to stop you.”

König was silent from behind you, mulling over your words. You couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed by your outburst. He had stabbed you, shattered your skull, broken your nose and jaw and nearly snapped your neck- he deserved to listen to you yell at him at the very least.

Fingers slid over your shoulders, slowly turning you around to face him. You tugged against his hold half-heartedly, vision swimming beneath never-ending tears.

“Look at me, Birdy.” His voice was soft and pleading, his hand slowly moving to cup your bruised jaw. You froze as he manoeuvred you, forcing you to face him square on. König slowly lowered himself to rest a knee on the ground, leaving him still taller than you but closer to eye level.

With the hand that was free, he reached for his hood. You swallowed nervously as he carefully pulled it from his head, resting the cloth on his upright knee.

Dirty blonde hair lay splayed across his forehead, the length curling by his ears. Dark brows framed the emerald gaze that watched you intently, taking in your visage as you observed him. All of him.

The scars caught your attention.

Winding from his upper lip, across his eye and leaving a line through his brow, the winding length of damaged skin presented itself. There was another scar along the bridge of his nose that travelled across the width of his cheekbone and into his hair.

“Do I…” König trailed off, full lips parting as he mused over his next words. You stared in awe at the innocence of the freckles smattered across his features. “Are you afraid of me?”

You said nothing for a long moment, mesmerized by the features of a man that had haunted your thoughts for months. He’d been the centre of your existence for so long, the reason you ached and the reason you’d bled. König had plagued your every waking moment ever since the incident, and now he knelt before you. He was on his knees baring his vulnerabilities to you, knowing you could destroy him with it.

“Of course,” you whispered; your voice shaky as you met his gaze.

König’s expression became pleading, “then let me teach you how to beat me.”

His thumb lightly caressed your purple cheek, brows furrowed as he took in his handiwork. “Let me pay for what I’ve done by teaching you how to never let it happen again. And when you finally beat me, revenge will be yours and you may do as you wish.”

“Anything I want?” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

A wry, sad smile pulled at the corner of König’s mouth.

“Anything, mein vöglein.”

My little bird.

____

Next Chapter

[girlgenius1111]

one of your girls part 3

part 1 part 2 alexia x jenni x leila x reader. jenni takes her turn. smut 18+. part of the rush verse @vixwritesagain ... for context: Read Part One here Read Part Two here Read Part Three here Read Part Four here Read Part Five here Read Part Six here Read Part Seven here Read Part Eight here

-----

Though her lips were kind on your shoulder blade, her victorious smile was anything but. Alexia spoke lowly, a quiet thing only aimed at you. “Since you like your girlfriend’s cock so much more, you can come on hers later.”

Another five seconds of listening to your whimpers, then Alexia stood up. She was quick to let go of your wrists and pull out entirely.

Twitching, you pressed your hands to the cold surface and found a little room to breathe through the sensation. 

Meanwhile, the room was quiet but for the buzz of the A/C. 

Jenni could tell how pleased Alexia was with herself when the midfielder turned around to face her. Rising from where she was comfortably reclined on the bed, the striker couldn’t help but smile. 

“Your turn.” Alexia grinned back, moving to take her girlfriend’s spot on the bed. Jenni grabbed the blonde’s hand before she could pass, running a finger over a scratch mark on Alexia’s abdomen that you didn’t remember leaving. Jenni’s eyes found Ale’s, and the younger woman couldn’t help the way she preened a bit under the proud gaze of her girlfriend. 

“Lo hiciste muy bien, amor.” Jenni murmured, taking a moment to gently grab a displaced strand of Alexia’s hair and tuck it behind her ear. The gesture was dripping with affection, but Alexia focused only on the smile on Jenni’s face; the smile that signified the brunette was very happy with her girlfriend at the moment. 

“I am not done.” Alexia whispered, the words just loud enough for you to hear. “Go fast. I want it to be my turn again.” 

Jenni threw her head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the otherwise quiet room. It felt like only a second later that the forward was resting a hand on your back, delighting in the small whimper you let out. 

“Jenni.” You groaned, allowing the older woman to pull you up and over, so that you were sitting on the desk facing her. 

“Hi.” She smiled, brushing some hair away from your face. 

“Your girlfriend is insane.” 

Jenni chuckled, stepping in between your legs and easing you closer to the edge of the desk. “And that is my fault?” 

“You know it is.” 

“Mm. I am not crazy, cari.” She argued, hands trailing up and down your sides in a soothing manner. 

“No?” 

Her lips caught your eye, so close to your own. As if reading your mind, her tongue ran across them, leaving a faint sheen behind. “No. Promise.” 

It was simultaneous, both of you moving in towards each other until your lips met. It was unusually soft, and while Jenni told herself it was just because you needed her to take it slow, the truth made itself known in the way you each melted into the other. Jenni’s arms around your back, your own linked behind her neck, you both pressing into each other until it was skin on skin. So close to each other that the momentarily forgotten strap brushed against your core. You whimpered, a pathetic sound that was just barely muffled by Jenni’s mouth on yours. 

“Sorry.” She mumbled against your lips. Her eyes cracked open to check on you, but you were already leaning forward again. You ignored the apology, chasing her lithe body as it pulled back and wrapping your legs around her midsection. Her hair was pulled up into a bun, and you gently unwound the hair tie until it gave way. The dark strands tumbled down around her shoulder, your fingers promptly weaving into them. 

The two of you kissed for a while, long past what was probably expected from the other two in the room. You didn’t feel like pulling away. Not when Jenni’s soft skin felt so comforting against yours. Not when it had been so long since you’d had her like this. It wasn’t the passion that had been missing from your encounters, it was the tranquillity that couldn’t exist when there was more than just the two of you. 

When you did break away, you didn’t go far. You kept your forehead pressed to hers. “Jen, I-” 

“I know.” She assured you. It wasn’t necessary to hear you say the words; she’d known a millisecond before you’d broken the kiss what you were going to ask for. One of her hands moved from where it cradled your back to slip in between the two of you, finding the strap that was pressed in between both of your bodies. “Do you need-?”

“Just need you.” You gasped, tucking your head into the crook of her neck as she nudged the tip against you. Jenni took care to shift your hips, angling herself in just right. 

“Dios mió,” She groaned, pushing in gradually until she was buried inside. The soft cry that tumbled from your lips was unlike any other sound you’d made so far. It was needy, and you were acutely aware of that fact as you bit down on the firm muscle of Jenni’s shoulder. 

Her hand stroked up your back to cradle your head against her. She let you breathe, pressing her lips to your temple softly. When you eventually pulled back, it was impossible not to get lost in her stare. “Lista?” 

“Yes.” You murmured back, leaning in to capture her lips once again. 

The first roll of her hips had you moaning into her mouth. You could feel the smile she tried to fight, but you couldn’t be irritated when her hands started to wander. Jenni began at the small of your back, tracing gentle patterns with her fingertips. She ran down your sides, stroking at your thighs where they curved around your hips but never dipping inside. 

She worked slowly, rocking into you with a fluidity which made it easy to get lost in the rhythm of her kisses and forget about how well she filled you. Everywhere she touched tingled. 

“Oh my god, Jen.” You breathed, reaching down to hold her waist. Underneath your fingers, you could feel the gentle shift of her muscle giving pass after pass. 

You ducked your head, pressing your lips to her neck, then her shoulder. It took a few seconds to find the spot which made her sigh, a little up from her collarbone, a little down from the sharp jut of her jaw. You licked first to be sure, then mouthed when her fingertips flexed on your thigh. 

She was quick to get you back, licking filthily into your mouth and chasing your kisses with her own until you whined. Only when you gasped at the pleasured shivers she sent up your spine did she pull back. Still, she was so close. Her hair tickled at your chest as she leaned into you. 

It was so quiet when you closed your eyes, just Jenni’s gentle grunts and the slick slide of her skin against yours. Your hands wandered, trailing along bare skin until you held her tenderly. The rock of her hips inside was steady enough for your own to tilt. With every pass, Jenni brushed against your clit. 

With nothing else to focus on, she filled every sense. The taste of her, how her hair smelled fresh from her shower, touching all the tiny marks on her skin you’d memorised so well you could trace them with your eyes closed. 

Her tongue dragged over your neck. You could feel her when you stretched back and let her have you however she wanted. Most satisfying, you relaxed into the sound of the muffled moans she’d breathe out intermittently. 

Jenni just knew where to touch and what to do. You could feel yourself smiling between her kisses, running on nothing but instinct and feeling. Chasing every roll of her hips with a touch of your own, coaxing her to feel as good as she did you. 

The tension she built caught you by surprise. It wasn’t a focus until she moaned herself and changed the pattern. Just a fraction harder, but still as fluid. 

“Fuck.” You breathed, loathe to break the tranquillity with anything too loud. 

Jenni nodded into your neck before one of her hands cradled your cheek. Her forehead pressed gently to yours. 

Your whole body shivered, making you cling to her. “I’m so…” You tried, but the feeling of her made it hard to think. 

The striker hummed before she leaned in to let your lips brush. 

You managed half a second before your own parted in a low moan. Jenni stayed close, shifting her hips just a little deeper now. Her own groan was caught in your mouth. 

Brain blank of anything but her, it went on and on. Over and over. Wet and panting, breathing in each other’s air until you weren’t sure if the high would ever end. 

All it took was a sharp snap. “Don’t let her come.”

Jenni jolted immediately at her girlfriend’s call. A moment of silence, then she was still. She had the decency to pull you close, letting you burrow your head in her neck while you whined needily. 

For a long time, the feeling of her cock inside and her skin pressed to your clit kept you right there. A few little rocks would have done it, but your limbs clung to her so tightly that moving even one of them would have been a challenge. You tried to focus on the whir of the A/C and the occasional shift of bedsheets over her shoulder to calm yourself, but the sounds just kept coming. There was arousal, yes, but also a hint of embarrassment at losing yourself so completely. 

Jenni tried to move first, shifting her torso with every intention of pulling out and creating space. 

At the first movement, you clamped your limbs around her, whining as she shifted inside.

Soothing hands were slow to stroke at your skin. When Jenni spoke, it was the quietest you’d ever heard her. A husky, mumbled thing just for you. “Be good. I want to see you come tonight.” 

-----

one more to go!! this part and the next part are tied for being my favorites so do with that what you will :)

[reallyromealone]

Title: Oh Look a mate(s)

Chapter 3

Fandom: obey me

Pairing: demon brother's x male reader

Warnings: omega verse, nsfw, male reader, gay, smut, attempted assassination, drugging, biting, torture

Notes:

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

It was tomorrow.

The wedding was tomorrow.

(Name) Was quiet as he waited in the altar room, candles circling the room as marble carved murals surrounded him, the ceiling glass and the moon directly above him.

He sat in silence as the moon reached its peak before shadows flooded around him, a cold smoke that strangely didn't strike him with fear but instead filled him with warmth and safety. "Good Omega" one of the voices whispered as shadowy hands grabbed at him, gently touching and smoothing over the linen nightgown he wore before a long finger sliced it down the middle "Shhh" he could hear Satan's voice whisper in his ear as the seven men materialized and kissed various parts of his now exposed flesh "beautiful..." Mammon whispered breathlessly before biting into (name) 's flesh, the others doing the same.

Each scent gland was claimed as a tattoo manifested onto their soulmate tattoos, the demons licking and kissing their soulmate marks "You're bonded to us forever... Whenever you need us, call for us..." Beelzebub said as his blackened eyes gently kissed (name) 's lips as the fire of the candles burned brighter "Alphas...." (Name) Babbled as he leaned into someone's shoulders, Levi he believed... "So beautiful..." Asmodeus whispered as his hand crept down to the other's abdomen and began whispering enchantments, hand glowing as a tattoo formed on his stomach "Your first heat will be in less than 24 hours, this will help keep it from hurting so badly"

Never would he be denied a heat again.

The men scented and kissed (name), they could smell the slick flowing from him but knew better and to wait, wait till it was time.

When morning came, (name) was kept from his alphas all morning as he was polished to perfection, traditional white robes and gold accessories set aside as they painted swirls on his body, apparently matching the marks that would be on his alphas.

He looked at himself in the mirror, the makeup, the paint, and the clothes... He hardly recognized himself.

But it was him.

All him.

Lucifer made sure the guards were on high alert as he and his brothers got dressed, in their traditional robes that were the color of their omegas eyes, as is tradition in the kingdom, they already had two people sneak in after all.

"Your Majesty?" A meek voice spoke out as the demon turned to see an Omega maid look nervous, his eyes sharp and calculating "What is it?" He said simply and the maid straightened her back a bit before speaking once more "His Highness... He's extremely stressed and I thought it would be best if one of his--" Lucifer was already darting out of the room for his mate, he didn't care if he wasn't supposed to see him till the wedding.

His mate needed him.

(Name) Was freaking out as his omega decided Kw was an excellent time to freak out over the lack of alphas.

To be fair he got scented every morning but today, was a very high-stress day.

"My, aren't you beautiful" (name) snapped his head up as the maids left the room with haste and (name) whined and ran towards him, shoving his face into the alpha's chest and whining "My, can't go a day without your alphas?" He teased and lifted (name) 's face to look at it "None of that, you will ruin your pretty makeup" he was only soft for his omega, gentle kisses "We have a wedding, right? We will dance and party and then when the moon is high we will take you back here" he promised and kissed (name), scenting him lovingly.

"Now be good for alpha" he commanded, a slight alpha tone that they found calms (name). He liked not being in control all the time, instinctually.

"Ok alpha" he whispered hazily as the maids came back in and Lucifer left to finish getting ready, confident that he calmed his mate.

(Name) Looked nervous as he was ushered into a beautiful fabric and mahogany palanquin, the finest silks used for it "To walk you to the temple, your Highness" a soldier said calmly and (name) nodded as the soldiers in celebratory costume lifted it and (name) tried not to yelp.

He walked through the city, a grand parade to show the people the next queen, and (name) shyly waved at them as the people cheered in joy and some looked in envy at him. He could hear screaming in the distance, too focused on the slight shake with each step the guards took and the loud sounds around him to figure out what direction it came from exactly but the bullet that flew past his nose as a man was pinned down by guards have his answer, the omegas palanquin lowering as the guards checked on him "oh thank goodness... Are you alright your Highness?" The general that was a bit ahead rushed to check on him and (name) though stunned and Shellshocked, nodded slowly the Alpha nodded with a sigh of relief "We will get there soon your Highness"

The parade continued and (name) tried to regulate his breathing as he lifted his sleeves and took in the smell of Lucifer that clung to him, too close to his heat to be able to properly handle this.

God, he was so tired...

"We're here your Highness" Had that much time passed?

(Name) Was helped out by his maids, dressed in floral traditional outfits, darker colors as to highlight (name) 's snow white robes that dragged behind him, gold accents matching his accessories "You got this, your Highness" (name) 's closest maid, the one in charge of his maids smiled and (name) nodded before walking up the steps of the temple as people cheered.

Traditional fan dancers danced in front of him, a beautiful display as the guests of the wedding sat and watched in awe as (name) locked eyes with his alphas and had to suppress a chirp. The dancers moved their fans away to make an entrance for (name) to walk closer to them, Asmodeus taking his hands and kissing them gently as the others looked fond at the sight of their beloved, even Belphegor awake and focused on (name).

(Name) Looked at the guests, from countless kingdoms the Royals down to the mayors from cities including the village he was from, and looked in awe at the realization of how large this temple was, it seemed so small in the darkness.

(Name) Barely focused on the priestess as he looked at his mates, shadowy magic binding them together as (name) agreed to the contract of marriage "bound by the fates and the demon king himself, his Highness (name) Morningstar is granted a gift from his majesty of immortality, may his heart beat so long as his alphas" the demon king sat in the distance, watching his younger sons fondly, leaving hell to witness such an event as a red-haired demon stood beside him while staring intently.

(Name) Felt warm as he was brought close by his alphas and danced with them, a grand party that was sure to go on for the next week as guests watched and the city partied and after brought around to be introduced to guests "This is our elder brother, the next king" Lucifer introduced the Omega to his elder brother, next king of hell and intimidating to say the least but the large grin that broke out on his face said otherwise "my, a pleasure to meet you! My apologies that it took me so long to be able to meet you! Let me know if they act up all right. It will be nice to not have a little brother that will get on my nerves!" He teased as he hugged (name) and seemed so warm and understanding to him.

"My mate couldn't make it sadly, they're too far along to make the trip but hopefully after you two can meet!" Lucifer felt warm that his elder brother and a mate got along so well as the other brothers were dragged to talk to guests and eventually Lucifer and (name) went to speak to others, the Omega passed from alpha to alpha to not hog.

"An hour and you don't greet your parents?" (Name) Froze under Asmodeus' gentle hold as he turned to see the mayor of his village and his parents... And sister.

How did they get here?

"Not even an invite, thankfully our dear mayor invited us as his plus ones as his wife and sons couldn't make it," she said casually as his sister altered between glaring at him and swooning over Asmodeus, the beta looking flirty and showing her bust at him but the demon didn't even acknowledge her as he tilted his head at his mate's parents with a cold smile (name) didn't recognize but the gentle thumb rubbing his hip told him he was safe "my~ isn't this a surprise, (name) darling... Why don't you go make sure Beelzie doesn't eat everything, yes?" He urged his hesitant Omega who looked so precious and watched him walk away.

"E-excuse me!" The dad tried barking out and Asmodeus smiled coldly, a beta demanding not just an alpha but a supernatural alpha. Laughable really "I will allow you to continue to enjoy this celebration but if I hear even a whisper of my mate's name from any of your lips that isn't shining adoration I will remind you of your place," Asmodeus said barely above a whisper as he towered over the stumpy beta and his family, he read the letter.

All seven brothers read the letter.

And despite not being wrath, Asmodeus was the most upset.

No flirting, no banter.

Just a thinly veiled threat.

"Now you best behave"

You would think this Would deter (sister), make her behave... But no no.

She was hell-bent on having them.

Breaking this farce is a marriage.

It was expensive getting rut enhancer drugs but it was worth it in her eyes she looked around and saw that (name) was moved to Belphegor who sat in a corner quietly and (name) said worthless words to him and saw that Beelzebub was enjoying his food.

Perfect.

The drug was a fine powder, easy to mask on the powdered cream puffs that the demon was gorging on, slipping past when he went for some ribs and sprinkling on.

She just had to be available when the drugs kicked in.

It was not too long before the demon returned his attention to the cream puffs... But other people took them as well.

Like servants bringing them to their kings.

Oh well, she thought as she focused on Beelzebub and deemed everyone else as a stepping stone to her happiness.

Beelzebub froze after ten minutes, eyes dilating as he stood and looked around "Are you alright?" She tried to seduce the Alpha, pressing against him but like her brother, she didn't quite understand how mating worked and believed he would go to the first willing hole.

But in reality, he sought out (name) who was talking to Diavolos butler, the two fondly chatting about something or another.

"Move," he said coldly as he locked onto (name) marched to him, and lifted him, the other brothers looked concerned as Diavolo decided to start a ring dance and nodded at Lucifer, they all seemed to understand what was happening. (Name) Was confused as he was held close by his alpha who left the temple gardens and spread his wings before taking off, (name) shoving his face in Beelzebub's neck and that's when he smelt the rut. He couldn't help but whine, he was trying so hard not to go into heat but fuck...

He closed his eyes and felt himself sink further, sounds distorting and he felt his clothes removed carefully as voices spoke around him "he will be upset if we ruin this" Asmodeus...? Or is that Satan? "Alpha?" He slurred as the alphas kissed his flesh, cold to the touch and he felt something hard press against his back before he was pushed into his back, he couldn't even formulate a feeling of shame or worry as Belphegor traced the body paint that was on (name)s flesh "pretty..." The sleep demon murmured as he touched the womb tattoo a wave of pleasure washed through (name) and a low moan broke through him "Any pain he feels will feel like absolute pleasure... We may be dealing with a very horny Omega" Asmodeus teased, they didn't have an incantation to make him feel no pain during heat or pregnancy so it was the best option.

Especially because he kept moaning and crying, without it he would be writhing in pain.

"Why don't you spread your legs for us? Hmm? Show us how an Omega presents?" Lucifer spoke low and deep to the Omega who spread his legs on the bed and yelped when Beelzebub shoved his face between his legs and gave a long lick, pushing his legs over his shoulders as half his body was pulled nearly off the bed, Beelzebub on his knees before the bed. "O-oh! Alpha!" He cried out as Beelzebub ate his ass, licking around the rim before pushing in ever so slightly as the smell of slick was heavy in the room "wanna make alpha feel good? Why don't you show Levi here how much you want his cock?" Asmodeus took the initiative with getting (name) to pleasure them as they pleasured him, the Omega opening his mouth so prettily as the shy alpha fed him his cock, (name) licking the underside as he sucked. "H-how did he get so good?!" Levi gasped as he felt (name) hollow his cheeks with a vice force "I have been teaching him how to be a good little cock whore~" Asmodeus teased as Belphegor sucked on one of (name)s nipples as Asmodeus and Lucifer got hand jobs, the two assisting (name) a bit as his body shook.

Satan kissed his navel before moving to the omegas cock and sucking on it, the pre-cum leaking like crazy as (name) struggled to comprehend all the pleasure he felt, hips being held down as Beelzebub inserted a finger, curving it upwards against his prostate as he ate his ass like a final meal and added another finger "you're gonna be-- fuck! Taking a lot tonight baby ~" Asmodeus stammered as Levi came down (name)s throat, the Omega choking slightly but managing "fuck..? Shit.." Levi was already babbling as (name) 's body shook and a climax rolled through, Satan drinking it all "You want more?" Lucifer asked the Omega who whined "Nest!" Beelzebub wasting no time, feral and horny As the other alphas slowly went into a rut from being around a heat-stricken Omega, their demon forms were on full display. (Name) Was settled into his nest as they let Beelzebub enter first his large and heavy cock pressing against (name)s ass as (name) made out with Lucifer, pretty little sounds as Beelzebub pushed in slowly.

Each inch made for louder and prettier sounds from (name) as his body glistened with sweat, another climax rolling through him as Beelzebub was halfway through bottoming out before his hips snapped forward and his pelvic bone was pressed against (name)s ass cheeks "oh! Big...!" He cried out and pushed against him as Belphegor went behind him and held him up, kissing his neck as the others watched hungrily.

Beelzebub wasted no time pistoning his hips as (name) clawed at his skin, body shaking and writhing in pleasure as he poured slick "puppy up!" He cried out as he begged to be bread, owned and full... Belphegor moved around to Sroke (name)s cock and kiss his neck before biting into its neck watching (name) unfold as Beelzebub rolled his hips at the tightness and his grip so tight it was going to leave dark bruises on his hips come morning.

"Please please! Pup!" (Name) Begged for cum, pulling Beelzebub for a kiss and tasting his slick as the alpha's hips slammed one last time and cum poured into him, hot and sticky.

Beelzebub felt some sanity return to him as he looked at a fucked out (name) who couldn't even form words but babbled nonsense as Belphegor kissed him and coddled him "Let's get water and food into him then the next round starts" Lucifer instructed as they already prepared the necessary things that morning, food tested by the demons along with the water before feeding it to (name).

(Name) May have immortality but they still didn't want anything to happen to him.

Though poison pains right now would probably give him six earth-shattering orgasms.

No! No! Bad!

They washed the sweat and paint off his body as (name) recovered slightly but soon grew whiny as he was placed on top of Asmodeus, cock pushing in with ease and crying as Asmodeus gave harsh and slow thrusts.

"Come now, you got more to take ~"

Mammon was furious, absolutely livid as he slammed his fist against the assassin's skull, not wanting this vermin alive as his mate struggled with his heat and six cocks currently "You are taking my precious time with my mate, who the fuck sent you?" He was bordering feral as the assassin finally gave in "The sister! She wanted him dead!"

Oh?

Interesting.

Mammon left swiftly, telling the guards to find her, she couldn't have gotten far after all.

For now, the greedy demon needed to sink his cock into (name)s cute little ass.

And maybe bite it.

Bite it.

When he walked into the heated room, already nude he was met with (name) being railed by Asmodeus and Satan, cocks moving in his hole at vigorous paces as (name) sucked Lucifer's cock like he would die "(name), look whose here" Lucifer pulled him off his cock to look at mammon and the whine and moan that left his lips as he cried for the silver-haired demon, hands reaching for him, and who was mammon to deny something like this?

Mammon shoved his tongue in (name) 's mouth and relished as the Omega tugged at his hair "Wanna make me feel good?" He didn't even have to show his erect cock as (name) moved and took it in his mouth, mammon sighing at the tightness of his throat "he's a natural" Satan slapped (name)s ass as he pounded as Asmodeus sucked on his chest, the omegas hands going back to work as everyone slowly found a spot for them, the Omega cumming again in the process.

(Name) Was unconscious with Belphegor, needing a heavy rest before the next wave and thoroughly fucked out, the other alphas getting their turns after as Mammon reported findings and what the assassin admitted "She most definitely drugged Bee, our ruts not till winter" Asmodeus said thoughtfully, he should have just let Satan do what he originally wanted to do but that was (name)s choice, not theirs.

But now it was treason that they were talking about.

An attempted assassination against (name).

You see when Diavolo was the next king of hell, they were given rule of the overworld and essentially made (name) queen as they were to be overworld kings come coronation granted by their eldest brother.

And after this, (name) would be carrying their heir.

God, they were half erect at the thought of (name) pregnant.

"I have a manhunt for them, a bounty will be put up as well"

For now, they would care for (name).

When (name) woke, he couldn't feel his legs and his head felt foggy as he was placed into a warm bath "Good morning, lamb" Satan caressed his cheek "Alpha?" He said weakly, voice hoarse from their activities as Mammon gently massaged oils into him, the alphas already washing the cum and sweat off him "Hello pretty baby~ you took us so well, we are so proud of you" (name) chirped at the praise as he received loving kisses "after this was gonna feed you" Lucifer promised and (name) felt a slight sense of clarity "cuddle? Before heat comes back?" He asked as the others smiled, unable to resist the request.

(Name) Was naked and dried off as he cuddled the others who doted on him "You did so well, absolutely beautiful my love" Asmodeus cooed, and (name) let him kiss and love him "My garden?" He asked softly, why that was his worry beyond anyone but Lucifer eased his worries with the promise of the gardeners taking care of it.

For now, he was to relax.

[hiitsm]

Transient Connection: A Meeting of Worlds

You meet a beautiful woman at your workplace, who isn't a professional actress like you.

Fluff

Note: I'm not very well-versed in the acting world, so it's not described in great detail.

Request here

-

You just stepped out of the small makeup trailer, ready to shoot a brief scene. However, you didn't know who you would be acting with. You were aware that a character would be making a cameo, but no one had informed you which character or which actor or actress would be playing the role. This lack of information left you feeling annoyed, as you needed to know for your preparations.

You practically sprint to your manager’s trailer and burst inside. "Valentina, I love you, but please tell me how I’m supposed to prepare without knowing some important key information," you say, your voice a bit raised, though unintentionally.

You’re just a little nervous. This is your first big movie, your first major role, and hopefully, your first big breakthrough. While you’re not entirely unknown as an actress, having played roles in small series, you've never been the lead. This is different, and you want everything to be perfect.

"It wasn’t finalized until just a little while ago. She almost got cold feet and didn’t want to do it anymore," your manager Valentina says, her attention focused on her managerial tasks. Valentina is more like a best friend to you, and her multitasking nature is something you've grown accustomed to.

"That's just great," you say, rolling your eyes sarcastically. The last thing you want is to play this role with an unprofessional actress who would rather not be there. You believe that someone who is fully committed deserves the role. But maybe that's just your selfishness talking.

"I think she’s a professional football player. Everyone on this set loves her, really," Valentina says, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You walk over and playfully smack her arm. "Why would they hire a professional football player? Doesn’t she just want to play football?" you sigh heavily, worried. The last thing you want is for this to go badly because they chose a football player instead of an actual actress.

"Just have some faith in the writers and everyone else who thought this was a good idea. And be nice and kind, just like your mother taught you," Valentina says, pointing at you accusingly.

"I’m always nice and kind. And since when do you talk about my mother? You don’t like her," you retort, taking a bite of your banana to fill your stomach before heading on set for a few hours.

"We both don’t like your mother," Valentina adds, raising her eyebrows. "But she did teach you manners, so use them." With that, Valentina hops out of the van, and you follow right behind her.

"We will first have a reading with her and her manager, getting to meet them now," Valentina tells you, almost running, which is unusual for her. You think maybe the two of you will be late, because Valentina never runs.

"I did hear that she’s very pretty," Valentina turns her head towards you, waggling her eyebrows even more.

"Of course she is, Val. She's a professional football player," you reply, shrugging your shoulders a little. "Maybe she has a nice manager," you tease, and before you can add anything else, Valentina shoves you while you're running, almost causing you to trip.

"Ah, there are the two of you. We were already wondering where you were," you hear a man's voice say.

You find yourself staring into a pair of beautifully greenish eyes.

That's not a man, you think.

Momentarily lost in their captivating gaze.

Where did the man's voice go?

Her eyes are stunning, and you can't seem to look away. Lost in your thoughts and dreams, you only snap back to reality when the man's voice returns.

"Hello, my name is Joseph, and this is Alexia," he says, indicating the woman with the enchanting eyes.

Ah, there's the man. Her manager.

Valentine nudges you slightly, bringing you out of your trance. You extend your hand for Alexia to shake, then Joseph's. "Hi, my name is y/n," you say a little sheepishly, feeling completely out of character. But as soon as you notice, you push the feeling aside, eager to make a good impression.

Valentine talks all three of your heads off, explaining a little bit to each of you as you walk to get the reading done. Alexia is walking beside you, and when you glance down at her hands, you notice they shake a little. You assume it's from nerves, and an urge to help her feel more at ease washes over you.

"Have you ever done something like this before?" you ask her softly. She blushes a little, quickly becoming shy. "No, this is all new for me," she says, with a hint of irritation.

You realize she probably doesn't want to be here, she just wants to play football. "You want to be back on the football field again soon?" you inquire quietly, careful not to overstep.

"Si, but we're in America right now, and my favorite football field is in Barcelona," she replies, her confidence growing at the mention of Barcelona.

"I love Barcelona. When I'm off, I love to go there," you share with a smile, watching as her eyes light up. You decide quickly that you want to see her eyes like that more often.

"Barcelona is great. I'm glad you like it already," she responds, wearing a huge smile, visibly more at ease.

"We both flew in only a few hours ago, so we are both a little bit jet-lagged. We have a strict schedule, in four hours, we need to get on the plane again because she has an important match in two days," Joseph tells Valentine.

You almost feel sad hearing this. You only have a few hours with her. But you can't dwell on it, right? You're a professional actress playing a scene with a professional football player who is now dabbling in acting. It's only professional to play the scene and part ways again after.

"The two of you can prepare for you seen there" Valentine's points to the secluded beach. It was be a beach scene anyway. Just a small talk scene. But you still notice that Alexia is appearing very anxious so you will still try and do you best to ease her nerves.

"The two of you can prepare for your scene over there," Valentine says, pointing to the secluded beach. It was going to be a beach scene anyway, just a small talk scene. However, you still notice that Alexia appears very anxious, so you resolve to do your best to ease her nerves.

The two of you walk over to the beach and start a small conversation. "So, if you're a professional footballer, what brings you to acting today?" you ask, hoping your tone sounds as kind as you intend.

"Just for the brand," she replies curtly, but you sense there's more she wants to say, though the words don't come out.

"That's nice," you respond, unsure of what else to add.

"I just want to play football, but this is part of it too," she says, her gaze shifting to the waves crashing onto the shore.

"I understand that a little bit. I love to act, but I don't love the interviews and all the promotion stuff that comes with it," you admit a bit shyly. This woman makes you feel shy, which is unusual for you.

"Yeah, I feel the same," she says, finally meeting your eyes again and giving you a big smile.

As you arrive at the beach, you initially wanted to offer her some acting tips, but you realize she's doing really well. The only issue is that she's a bit shy and awkward. However, with the preparation time you have, you know it's going to be okay.

The two of you were feeling at ease in each other's company, chatting about everything and nothing, and laughing a lot. She made you feel special, a different kind of special. After a while, Alexia received a phone call. You could only see a lion emoji as the caller ID, no name.

"Lo siento, that's my best friend," she said as she picked up the FaceTime call.

"Hola Ale, have you made a move on her yet?" you heard through the phone, and Alexia's cheeks turned bright red. "I mean, you love that show and you always tell me how good she looks," her best friend added, unaware that you were sitting right beside her.

"No, sí, no, ella está sentada a mi lado, idiota," she responded, switching to Spanish in her embarrassment.

"Well, just to let you know, she just picked up all her stuff from your apartment. I just wanted to tell you. Have fun!" And with that, the phone call ended abruptly.

There was a moment of silence between you two—comfortable for you, but maybe not for Alexia. You tried to break the silence without crossing any boundaries. "So, who picked up stuff from your apartment?" you asked quietly, hoping not to be too direct.

"My ex-girlfriend," she replied softly, and you noticed she wasn't ready to discuss it further. The silence settled in again. After a little while, you saw a tear streaming down the right side of her face. "Is this okay?" you asked, moving your finger toward her cheek to wipe it away.

"Sí," she said, looking out toward the shore. "Lo siento, she just hurt me a lot," she whispered, barely audible.

"It's okay to let yourself feel your feelings," you said gently.

"But I don't want to feel so sad anymore," she whispered again.

"You know what usually helps me feel a bit better?" you asked, and she shook her head softly. "Dancing on the beach. Come on."

You put a random song on your phone and started to dance. Alexia looked up at you with wide eyes, then a bright smile spread across her face as she watched you dancing so silly, so freely, so uncaring of what anyone might think.

"Come on," you encouraged, holding out your hand for her to grab. She finally took it, and both of you ignored the tingling sensation that passed between you. But you both felt it.

You didn't let go of her hand, and the two of you danced freely to the music. You were laughing and smiling, feeling an unburdened joy. It was wonderful to see her eyes light up and her smile brighten the world around you. Hearing her laugh was like music itself, a melody of pure happiness. Watching her, so beautiful and full of life, you felt an incredible connection growing between you.

"Are you guys done?" you hear behind you. It's Valentina, and you give her an annoyed look. She smirks at you, clearly aware that you've caught feelings for the blonde professional footballer rather quickly.

"Just a second, we'll be right there," you say, gently pushing her away from the beach.

"Hurry up!" she playfully screams back at you. You roll your eyes, but when you turn around again, you're greeted by a breathtaking sunset you hadn't noticed before due to your dancing.

Alexia stands there, bathed in the warm glow, looking stunning. You wish you could do something, wish you had the courage to ask her to spend more time together. But you also know she's heartbroken, so you decide to give her the space she probably needs.

"The sunset looks beautiful," she tells you.

"Yes, it does. Do you want a picture?" you ask, and she nods excitedly.

It's a beautiful moment, and you secretly hope she'll share it on social media so you can see it again, maybe a thousand times more.

"Gracias," she says, grateful for the offer.

"Now, we should go shoot our scene." She grabs your arm and pulls you with her, and you follow, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

-

Maybe a part 2 in the works if y'all want to?

[mybworlds]

Run, stop, stay

Pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: You, after a very long trip alone across the country, arrive in Jackson. Joel is a very lonely man and after Ellie broke up with him, he's even more alone and grumpy. Tommy and Maria decide that you're going to stay at Joel's house for a while, at least until more houses are built. Will your cohabitation be easy? Or will it be more complicated than everyone thinks?

Warnings: use of you, use of alcohol, loneliness, suicidal thoughts, suicidal attempt, a short story about sexual assault that occurred in the past I won't go into details, another SA in the present days, PTSD, violence, blood, lots of sexually explicit content, use of petnames, dirty talk, fluff elements, mutual pining, the main characters spy on each other for a while, the image of the female character has the sole purpose of representing the character, but you can imagine her however you want, no physical description of the female character except for long hair often gathered in a ponytail or braid, she wears a bra and jeans (most of the time).

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Masterlist

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics.

You run frantically through the woods, you don't even know how long you've been running in those damned woods, you trip over a large root and you fall on your hands and knees on the muddy ground. Your hands and knees burn, but you can't stop. You can't think right now, what you can do is run, run as fast as you can. You have to keep running, that thing is still chasing you. Those verses echo in the woods, you don't want to scream, you don't have to or you will attract others on you and then it'll be worse.

The skin on your hands and knees throbs, but you have to continue, you run, run faster and faster still hearing those gasps getting closer and closer, then the sound stops the moment you trip over something and sink into the soft ground. You hit your head violently against what appears to you to be stone or slush, losing consciousness.

When you recover, it's night and you can't move. Everything hurts. Your head throbs, your hands feel dirty and sticky, your legs feel soft and almost as if they aren't part of you.

You've fallen into a trap and you don't know how to get out of it, but at the moment you can't and because you're hurt and because it's night. And at night you know, it's better not to move as the dangers are greater.

You observe the segment of moon rising high in the sky, it's so bright now and in that moment you can see what has happened to you even if only partially. You look at your hands and discover them full of soil, raised skin and now dried blood.

You almost feel like your legs are broken, you have an indescribable pain, you know that you are not about to die, but you have the horrible sensation of a pain that is overwhelming and devastating you.

Oh, if only you hadn't been so stubborn and stayed with your friends there in that damn QZ, maybe you wouldn't have lived hand to mouth, maybe you wouldn't have fought and killed to survive, maybe you wouldn't be in that trap now. Maybe whoever made it is dead or no longer in the area and no one will ever know you are there. You're cold, so cold, shivers ripple your skin, you shiver, shrugging your shoulders. Everything hurts, so much. After what seems like hours to you, you open your eyes hearing various footsteps, your senses are on alert, you open your eyes wide, prick up your ears and take, with a groan full of pain, the gun from your now worn backpack and point it towards the way out of that trap you fell into. Those footsteps are getting closer, closer and closer, and then at the exact moment the figure appears you shoot. Just one shot. But it's enough. Your shot hits. The figure lets out a cry of pain and you also scream "GO AWAY!" if you weren't so scared of mankind, or rather what's left, you would have asked for help instead you fight as you've always done and will always continue to do.

"Fuck!" you hear a man shouts, a few moments later, you hear someone else “Did someone hit you?”, "Fuck, it hurts." the first complains.

“You'll survive, okay?” the second seems to want to reassure him.

"You okay down there?" the second one asks you. You are still highly suspicious so you don't answer. Instead, you reload another shot ready to fire in order to defend yourself.

You swallow, gritting your teeth tightly, you're out of breath from the effort and the pain. The pain in your legs is killing you, your head hurts, your eyes burn, you can't and shouldn't give up, but you're suddenly so tired. You are forced to stop. You have to.

Before you know, you pass out.

Joel throws a glass at the kitchen wall. He's drunk again, when he's drunk he's grumpier than usual and rarely even gets violent enough. He's been in this state ever since Ellie cut him out of her life, since she no longer speaks to him, and since she goes on patrols with everyone but him. Joel feels like he's going crazy. He loves that little girl, even if she is no longer a fourteen-year-old girl, in his eyes she will always be the one who needs his care. Joel staggers as he goes to look for another glass, almost hitting a door so much so that he struggles to stand. Tommy, since he put on a show to Tipsy Bison, advised him to drink alone at home and stop arguing with Seth, the owner of the club. Joel even threatened him once, and Seth returned the threat with a threat to get him kicked out of Jackson. The situation would have completely degenerated if Tommy and Maria had not intervened. From that moment on, Joel has been banned from entering the club unless he apologizes to Seth, but he has no intention of apologizing and therefore since then he has been on his own drinking and throwing glasses and sometimes shouting at himself or the damned world.

He had lost everything, everything that mattered to him had been swept away. He had found some hope and the will to live again, but now that she too had turned her back on him, everything seems useless to him again.

Some people feel sorry for him, he knows it, he feels it, he sees it in their eyes. He doesn't want anyone's pity.

Fuck everyone!

Even his brother, when he sees him drunk or down in the dumps, has turned his back on him or gives him looks full of pity and shrugs his shoulders.

Fuck Tommy!

He goes upstairs and goes to his room, closing the door behind him. He goes to the wardrobe and takes a box in his hands, places it on the bed and opens it. Inside there is a gun, his gun. He sits on the bed and takes it in his hands and the thought of putting an end to his life, his useless life, becomes increasingly clear to him. He can't think anymore, his thoughts are confused, meaningless.

He closes his eyes. His hand is shaking noticeably, he feels the sweat beading on his forehead, fuck... Do it, just do it.

But something prevents him, he reopens his eyes to find himself trembling and covered in cold sweat. No, he can't.

A knock on the door preventing him from continuing those bad thoughts, then he hears his voice, Tommy.

"Joel, you there?"

Another knock on the door.

"Fuck..." he murmurs getting up from bed and hiding his gun in the box, then he puts the box in his wardrobe and close it. He goes downstairs and reach the door. His brother is at the door. His hands on his hips and he looks at his brother for a very long moment.

"Can we talk?" he asks.

"Tsk, whaddya want?" Joel asks crossing his arms.

"Please, I'm sorry. I was a jerk, but hey I'm your brother..." Joel nods "I had to, please try to understand, I..."

"You're a fucking asshole, that's the truth. And no, you're not my brother. A brother doesn't turn his back on his brother. So fuck you, Tommy." he speaks bitterly avoiding Tommy's look.

"Joel, c'mon... okay, I'm sorry. Okay? I dunno what to say to convince you."

"You can do somethin'. Get the hell out of my property."

Tommy sighs shaking his head and turning his back on Joel, "Yeah, do it, all you ever do is shift!"

Tommy reconsiders and walks again toward his older brother, "Joel, I won't give up, so I go back here tomorrow, the next day, the next day again until we get clear, bro." he says with a sad small smile.

Joel doesn't smile back. His expression becomes harder if possible so his brother has to back off and goes away.

The situation doesn't change the next day and for the next fifteen days.

Then, an early morning Joel makes the first move towards his brother who, despite what happened between them, joyfully embrace him. Joel's hug is just a little pat on Tommy's shoulders and then hastily depart from him.

"I mean, can we get past it?" Tommy asks smiling at him weakly putting his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Yeah, course," Joel says avoiding his brother's gaze.

"Look, we need some time, I know... but maybe you and I can we go back to make a few patrols together." Tommy suggests.

"Uh, uh," Joel mutters.

"Is it a yes?" Tommy smiles widely while his older brother rolls his eyes and shakes his head "Right?"

Fuck you, Tommy...

"Yeah, okay..." he says with a resigned air.

When you open your eyes again, you are not in that hole anymore, but you are in a very confortable bed with green blankets, it's so warm and you feel all of a sudden so safe. You open and close your eyes feeling that strange pleasant feeling. You never felt something like that. It's weird, but it's good.

Really good.

You sit in the middle of the bed and you feel stiff and sore. Your hair, usually pulled back into a ponytail, is loose around your shoulders.

"Ouch," you groan touching your head. You feel under your fingers what you think are stitches and your puffy skin. Your head is spinning, but you try to get out of bed the same. As soon as your feet touch ground, you cry for the pain. Your knees are swollen and red, and fuck it hurts so much!

"You are going to be okay, you are going to be okay," you repeat in a breath trying to not to cry again. You have to move and go away, you don't know where you are and you could be in danger in this place. So you gotta move now!

When you try to walk again, you feel so much pain like you walk among fire pits, you feel your eyes filling up with tears. It hurts so much, you clench your teeth, but you have to move.

You almost approach the door, when it opens and a middle - aged woman with long black hair shows up, she looks surprise to see you walk, but then she smiles at you. Her smile is so warm, but you don't smile back. You can't trust her. She could be anyone. She could be a danger like everyone else.

"I'm glad you're up," she says and only then you notice she holds a tray with what you suppose are drugs and there's also some food "I brought you some hot supper and there's a pill for the pain, I didn' believe you could walk. Your fall was really hard and you lost so much blood." she adds laying the tray on a piece of furniture "Can I take a look at your injuries?" she adds again "'m not a doctor, but I learned something throughtout those hard times." then she points with a hand your bed inviting you to go back.

You reluctantly obey without losing sight of the mysterious woman, you touch the bed with your knees, "Please, relax," she says again "I won't hurt you, my name's Maria." you swallow looking into her eyes "And what's your?"

You look at her, you stare at her. You don't know if you can introduce yourself, you're scared. You knew so many survivors who did the worst things to survive. Is this woman so much different?

"Look, I know you can't trust no one except yourself because your strenght helped you to survive and to survive you did what you never thought you could do," she says kneeling before you and using a very quiet tone like you are frightened animal "but since now you can drop your guard and try to go back to a life less... dangerous and more peaceful. You are in Jackson, in a community of over a few hundred people. Here people work, there's a council, so there can be no anarchy, no one could do whatever he wants because if one break rules, he's out." she explains trying to make you feel comfortable.

Even in the QZ there had to be rules, but...

"I promise," she continues interrupting your painful thoughts "no one will ever hurt you. And if someone does, well look for me and he'll be punished. I swear."

You lower your gaze, then you look back at the woman, Maria. She gives a little smile before gets up and says "Now, I'm going to check your injuries, is that okay for you?" she looks at you and you nod "Good. I won't hurt you." she adds.

And it's true, she doesn't. She takes care of you, she gives you some food which you barely touch and not because you're not hungry!

"By the way, I brought you some clean clothes, I don't know if they're your size, but these are better than the ones you're wearing. Now, rest. D' you want light on or off?" you shake your head and she understands she can turn the light off and then closing the door behind her back.

You are alone again, confused. So, you are in a city. Or something that reminds it. There are rules and apparently no one kill or rape no one. It sounds too good to be true.

You lay on that bed until the pill works, then you get up again approaching the window and you find out the woman is right, there's a city at your feet, the light dimly illuminates the road, you can hear the neighing of horses in the distance. You open the window and feel the cool evening air and then you can see for the first time with no fear the stars and the Moon over there.

You feel strange, you look around realizing you have never been in a room like that to have a rest, but you usually go into houses to look for supplies or drugs useful to survive. You have not to do that anymore, according to Maria.

Can you do that?

Maybe...

"I knew there was a catch," he says shaking his head "Maybe the two of you forgot she shot me." Joel adds.

"C'mon, bro, it's just a scratch." Tommy replies.

"Don't call me bro, you always do when you want somethin', but not this time. I came with you for a patrol, but end of the story, she won't stay with me. I have my private spaces and I won't share 'em." he blurts out putting his hands in his dark jeans pockets.

"She doesn't say a word, she's quiet probably she will stay in her room." Maria says trying to convince a reluctant Joel "She needs some time, Joel. You can help her."

"No, I can't..." he says getting up from his chair and giving his back to his brother and his sister-in-law "I can't help no one."

"Joel," Tommy approaches him and puts a hand on his brother's shoulder "You're thinking about Ellie, aren't ya?" Joel doesn't answer, but it's clear "Well, you did what you thought was right and she doesn't hate you, believe me. You helped her and she knows. Now, there's someone else who needs your help, please. Think 'bout what she lived, she's scared and she needs help, maybe your help."

"I hate you when you make these speeches 'cause you're able to make me feel guilty."

"Will you help her?" Maria asks again.

Joel sighs, "I want to see her first, then I will decide."

"Okay, follow me." she says.

Jackson is really quiet right now, the only sounds are the neighing of horses and from time to time some dogs barking, Joel is not at all thrilled in hosting who shot him, but apparently you need help and a place to stay.

Joel enter in the place used as hospital and Maria drives him and Tommy upstairs, then she opens the door and let Joel enters first. She wants to show him you are harmless, but as soon as Joel enters in the room you hit him with a bedside light and he curses covering his head.

"Go away!" he hears you scream and ready to hit him again, this time he grabs and rip the bedside light from your hands.

"Dear," it's Maria who stands between the two of you "this is Joel, he's a friend, you don't have to be scared, he won't hurt you. Please, calm down." she says putting her hands on your shoulders trying to help you to calm you down.

"This is the harmless girl, the girl I'm supposed to host, no way!" he says taking a sharp look at his brother and Maria first then at you who you're staring him with a challenging look.

"She's scared, Joel, please give her some time."

Joel leaves the room and Tommy follows him, "Why do I have to host her?" he asks raising his voice, while he sees Maria close the door.

"'cause no one else can and you are the last one who arrived here in Jackson. There are not enough buildings, and since you're avoiding work and concentrate to drink, well work's slowed down. When we built more buildings, she will go somewhere else. I promise."

"Yeah... your promises..." he says rolling his eyes "I know your promises."

"Yes, well... now, I give you my word. Trust me for once." he says and Joel can't help but reluctantly accept.

NEXT CHAPTER ➢

[veltana]

Buy my heart - 1

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~1,2k

✦ Rating for this part: Mature

✦ Warnings/tags: Alpha!Bucky, Omega!Reader, slow burn, eventual smut, omega auction.

✦ Summary: Bucky buys you

✦ Note: Due note that this is a drabble series, the parts will be short but I still hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to come back and read Lloyd's series, set in the same verse! 😉 Bucky's scent is based of my favorite perfume of all time ÆTHER XTRÆM 🤤Reblogs, comments and asks are much appreciated!

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

Everything is numb. As you stand on the podium in front of the faceless crowd with the lights in your eyes, you don't feel a thing, except the uncomfortable sensation of scent blocker on your skin. As soon as you pulled the thin dress on for the auction you decided that the only way you would survive this is if you just turn every emotion off.

Paddles go up. Paddles go down. The man beside you rambles fast but you don't listen. It's not irrelevant how much you sell for, since your family needs it to pay off their debt, but you can't take it in.

Instead, you focus on your breathing. The mask-covered mass in front of you is grass on a meadow on a windy day. Breathe in. They sway towards you. Breathe out. They sway away.

You don't want to look at who raises their paddle the most, and even if you did, you wouldn't be able to identify them since everyone's face is concealed by the same black mask. But you'd find yourself scrutinizing their hands and build, trying to guess if they're old or young. Honestly, you dread both: a young pup with an overly cocky attitude who knows nothing about caring for an omega, or an old lone wolf who is too frail to do anything himself and would require constant care.

The sharp crack of the club startles you from your self-induced meditation. That's when you finally hear the sum you've been sold for and some of the tension in your shoulders drains away. It's enough. Your family will be fine.

An attendant leads you away through dark corridors before leaving you in another changing room. They've brought your old clothes but you don't touch them. They smell like home. Like your family. And you can't go into this new life with it, you have to leave it behind.

If the attendant is confused about you still wearing the sheer dress they provided when they come and collect you, they don't let it show before walking you out.

The air is cold against your skin but there is a car idling just outside. Well, it's a limo. The driver opens the door and gestures for you to climb inside. Guess this is your ride. Time to meet your alpha.

Pressing down every feeling of panic and dread you walk on bare feet the short distance. The door shutting just behind you makes you jump. A moment later, the car starts moving.

The first thing you notice is that it's dim in the back of the limousine since the tinted windows don't let the streetlights in. The only illumination comes from small spots in the ceiling.

The second thing you notice is him. He's at the other end of the seat. Maskless with a glass of something in his hand that he swirls before taking a sip, staring at you over the rim. He's tall, broad-shouldered, short hair that looks soft with a neatly trimmed beard framing his face.

Then the smell hits you. It's easy to filter out the artificial notes of his cologne from what is his pure natural smell. It's a woody musky scent with a light tone of florals buried beneath that is not sharp or strong. It just fills your lungs with a warm, sensual feeling. For the first time in your life, you think you understand what other omegas rave about when they say that the smell of alpha is unlike anything else. The omega in you wants to slide up to him and rub yourself all over him, but you resist.

“Hello, little darling,” his rich voice fills the compartment. “Hello, sir,” you respond and is pleased when your voice doesn't waiver. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes. I prefer if you call me Bucky.” “Bucky,” you try, and nod, although it feels odd on your tongue. You've never addressed an alpha by a nickname before.

He doesn't ask for your name and you don't offer it, the less personal this is for you, the better. Bucky might have bought your body but your mind is still your own and he can never take it away from you. If he never calls you by your name, the better.

“Why do you still have that dress on?” he asks. You pluck at the fabric. “I couldn't take my old clothes with me.” “And no shoes?” “No, sir. I mean, Bucky.”

He picks up his phone. You hear the dial tone and then a woman's voice answers at the other end. “We need clothes, all types, but for tonight just get some underwear and something to sleep in. Then he directs his attention to you. “What size are you?” After hesitating a second, you tell him and he passes the information along before he hangs up.

The car slows and sounds as if it's driving on gravel. Bucky finishes his drink and studies you. There is a tick in his jaw as if he's irritated. Without a word, he starts taking off his suit jacket.

The blood in your veins turns cold and you press yourself back against the door. You don't want him to touch you. The dress might be sheer but the thought of being naked with him in the back of the limo is not appealing in the least.

But his actions surprise you. He holds out the jacket for you. “Wear this. My men are loyal but I don't need them to ogle you and get distracted.” There is no hiding the way your fingers tremble as you take it from him. After putting it on you realize that in a way, he's marked you with his scent now, but without touching you. It shouldn't make you pleased, but it does.

When the car comes to a stop you reach for the handle but with something very close to a growl he instructs, “Wait there,” before stepping out. You pull your hand back quickly and place it in your lap. Moments later the door opens. “Since you don't have any shoes, I'll carry you,” he explains, reaching for you, but you shuffle away. “I'll be fine, I promise, you don't need to do that.” His jaw ticks again. “No, you will hurt your feet, darling. Come here, now.” You hesitate still, but you're not prepared to find out what the next tell of irritation might be, or if the twitch in his jaw is the only warning you're going to get.

You move closer to him and hardly have time to process what happens before you're in his arms. He carries you near his body with your face pressed against his fine dress shirt. It's dark outside but the mansion he carries you towards is well lit. There is no doubt James Buchanan Barnes is a very rich man.

After stepping inside he still doesn't put you down. You want to object but decide against it as he carries you up a flight of stairs and into a room, where he puts you down on a soft carpet, then steps back.

“Clothes should be here in about twenty minutes. When was the last time you ate?” “Uhm, this morning?” “Allergies?” “No, but I really don’t like tomatoes.” “I'll inform the chef,” he nods, before continuing, “This is your room. Mine is across the hall. For tonight, stay here, I'll have food brought up. Tomorrow I’ll give you a tour and we'll talk about what is expected of you going forward.” You nod. “I suggest you take a nice long bath, before eating and going to bed.” “Yes, Bucky.” Your obedience seems to please him because the lines between his eyebrows disappear. “Have a good night, little darling.” And then he leaves.

next

[cosmopretty]

Finally Reunited

Caroline Harvey x Fem

Synopsis: You and Caroline both haven’t been spending any time together recently due to being in difference counties and you come surprise her.

Recently neither you or Caroline have had a break, with her long hockey practices and pre season workouts. Then with your studying and modeling gigs you have been moving around for a while for companies. Yeah you both texted and called every day but it wasn’t the same, and it showed when Caroline would mess up durning practice because her head wasn’t in the game. It’s not her fault that all she could think about was you, and she told you every detail about it.

Which is what led you to getting a plane ticket from Paris, France to Wisconsin, USA. You didn’t want to tell Caroline you were coming instead deciding to surprise her. Laila knew you were coming since she helped you plan this surprise for KK.

Boarding the Plane you see a FaceTime call from your girlfriend, not wanting to spoil the surprise you decline it and go find your seat on the plane.

“What the fuck” Caroline mumbles calling you not once but three times. Laila comes behind her and looks at her phone “She’s probably busy KK” the taller girl shrugs trying to not sound suspicious in any way.

Caroline rolls her eyes “Yeah whatever” she drops her phone on her bag and goes back on the ice to counting practice not noting Laila’s suspicious smile behind her.

Once your plane lands, you check the time and notice you have about an hour before Caroline’s practice ends at 5:30pm. You get an Uber down to the dorms, your girlfriend’s dorm to be specific, you walk in and go straight to her room leaving your suitcase there and changing into a new outfit. One of KK’s badger hoodies with her jersey number on the back and a pair of black shorts.

Leaving her apartment you walk, well more like speed walk down to the rink, where Laila told you the team would be today. Excited was an understatement to what you were feeling, your hands kept shaking. Soon enough you open the doors to the rink quietly trying not to make any noise.

The team was split into two groups versing each other, you get into the box and stand next to coach. She looks down at you and smiles “Your back? How was Paris?” she asks you looking away from you and back on the ice. Shrugging your shoulder you follow her eyesight down to the rink “It was okay, stressful. How’s the team been these past few weeks?” you ask her.

Coach laughs shaking her head “The team would be better if my star player wasn’t distracted all the time, daydreaming” she raises her brows looking down at you the pointing subtly to Caroline. You suck in a breath of air, scratching the back of your neck “My bad” you mumble laughing. She rolls her eyes at you before, you both move your eyes back onto the rink watching the girls play.

Laila stands confidently in the goal, watching as Laney skates down the ice with the puck, your girlfriend follows on the other side. Laney passes the puck to KK, who pushes through Ava and slams her stick across the ice hitting the puck into the goal.

You start clapping jumping up and down next to coach in the box. Caroline head immediately turns towards you recognizing your cheers, she takes her helmet off and drops it, a smile of shock forming on her face.

She immediately runs towards the box, forgetting she’s on ice skates. One minute she standing up straight the next she’s face down on the ice goaning. Everyone starts laughing at the poor girl while you walk up to her slowly on the ice so you don’t fall too. You let out a laugh that the sight of her lying down on the ice, looking like she gave up. You lend her your hand expecting her to take it so you can help her up. Instead her hand wraps around your wrist pulling you down on top of her so her arms can wrap around you in a bear hug.

She rolls on top of you pushing your body down on the cold ice, you squeal “KK baby I missed you too but I’m turning into a popsicle here it’s cold ” you squeal gripping onto her biceps. The girl gets off you for a second, moving to grab her helmet.

Laney comes over and grabs both your outstretched hands, pulling you up. The second your on both of your feet she pulls you into a hug “We missed you so much, KK never shuts up about you” she whispers laughing at KK who was staring at you both annoyed.

Caroline comes over and pulls you from Laney “Yeah enough y’all can see her later she’s mine again I missed her the most” she says gripping the back of your thighs signaling you to jump. You jump into her arms, your legs wrapping around her waist. She carries you off the ice as you wave to all the girls “When KK’s done acting like a baby I’ll come over” you yell to them across the ice.

She carries you all the way to the locker room dropping you onto the bench, so she can change out of her uniform. You bite your lip staring at her abs, and of course she notices “Like what you see baby?” she teases you turning around to face you fully.

“Yeah I do. I really did miss you Caroline more than anything, it was like it physically hurt to be away from you. That’s how much I love you.” You admit to her looking up at her through your lashes standing up, from the bench.

Her eyes drop down to your lips before going back up to your eyes “I know what you mean, it hurt so much to not be able to hold you in my arms. I love you more than anything so- uh why don’t we move in together? You know get our own apartment.”

Caroline’s hands fidget with each other as she looks down at your waiting for your reaction. Your mother opens in shock for a moment “Yes of course let’s move in together KK” you squeal wrapping your arms around her shoulders pulling her down into a kiss. Her lips touch yours for the first time in weeks, your stomach fills with butterflies. You open your mouth giving her room to slide her tongue in, her big hands grin your waist pulling your impossible closer to her.

The locker door flies open and you pull away from each other fast as you hear her tempests yelling. Laney shakes her head “OooO spicy maybe try it in your own room next time” she says walking in and holding the door open for everyone else.

Caroline rolls her eyes “You jealous?” she asks grabbing her hockey bag and putting it in the locker along with her stick. Laney sticks her tongue out at her teammates and grabs your waist “You know I could steal her in a heartbeat” Laney says giggling. You nod your head “Laney your the love of my life let’s runaway together” you gasp falling in her arms.

Laila snorts “You guys are so dumb” she laughs looking over at KK who was laughing at you and Laney. You wrap your arm around Caroline’s waist and wave to everyone “We’re leaving see you guys” you tell everyone dragging her out of the locker room down to her car.

Opening the passenger door for you like always you smile at KK in thanks before getting in and letting her close the door. The drive between the both of you was quiet, just enjoying each other’s presence, fingers interlinked on your lap. Your thumb rubs back and forth on her knuckles “So where are we going baby?” you ask her looking up from your lap to her. She turns away from the road for a moment, making eye contact with you “It’s a surprise just wait ma, you’ll like it I promise” she tells you bringing your interlinked hands to her lips, kissing your hand then bringing it down to your lap.

Trusting her words you relax in the seat of her car, you watch her drive the two of you. Soon enough she parks the car on the side of the road and gets out opening the door for you. She wraps her arm around your shoulders and you follow her moving your arm so it’s around her waist. Looking around at all the stores and diners you gasp “Are we going to that cute cafe that just opened please say we are” you beg her looking at her.

She smirks “Yeah it’s the one I told you about on FaceTime the other day” she informs you pulling you impossibly closer to you. You squeal moving in front of her and hugger her your arms around her neck “I love you so much” you whisper as her arms shake their way around your waist.

“I love you more and your sweet tooth” she teases you her words muffled by the way her head was in your neck. She pulls away “Come on let’s go before they close at eight” she grabs your arm pulling you inside the cafe.

You’re in awe at all the assortments of baked goods, you smile at KK “I have never loved you more than this moment” you tell her putting your hand on your chest. She laughs at you “They have those marble cakes you love so much” she tells you.

“I was wrong” you grab her hand going to sit down outside so you both can wait for a waitress to come serve you both. KK pulls out your chair for you then sits right in front of you. She pulls your hand into her holding it “I missed you so much I hated knowing that you wouldn’t be home with me. But how was Paris and all your jobs?” She asks you wanting to know how everything went for you.

You smile opening your mouth to speak before the waitress comes over “What can I get you both tonight?” she smiles sweetly at the two of you. Caroline nods at you to go first “Can I have hot chocolate with a slice of marble cake please” you tell her nicely your parents taught you to always have good manners.

The waitress nods writing down your order “And you?” she asks looking at your girlfriend. Caroline looks at you then back at the worker “I’ll have vanilla iced coffee and the brownie Sunday thank you” she says. The waitress nods and walks away from both of you back inside.

Caroline looks at you waiting for you to tell her about your time away from her. “Paris was beautiful and the girls I worked with were so sweet I made a few new friends who live in New York, so I’ll probably go meet them soon. I told them all about you I could never stop talking about you, you know” you blush a bit at your own words.

She awes “That’s cute baby how was work everything went well right?” she asks you always checking up on you and wanting to make sure your okay. You nod “It was stressful with all the companies I had to work for some were kind of rude but I met the Dior ambassador and she gave me her number. She’s gonna call me because she said she loved my look and wants me to model for Dior some more so that’s really exciting” you tell her your words filled with excitement and raw emotion.

That’s what KK loved about you, how passionate you were with the things you loved. The waitress comes back handing you both your orders before walking away. You take a bite and moan causing Caroline to choke on her drink “Baby if you’re gonna make the sound it’s gonna be from me not some cake” you shrug at her words smiling. The two of you ate your desserts together talking about anything and everything before leaving the cafe to go back to her dorm, KK eager to get you all alone.

[chuunai]

Hi hi! Would love to participate in your event if that’s cool

I was wondering if we could hav a Fyodor with scenario 2 and prompt 14

Idk if you want more details but I discovered your blog and I kinda got baby fever too sooooooo

Fire away friend

I’m sorry for making you sick : (

✧˚ · . my days are yours, yours - fyodor dostoevsky

how can a baby control his heart?

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), babies, babies and babies, SFW → minor mentions of death and overall fyodor trying to be a daddy while juggling killing the entire world. Spoilers for the last episode of BSD season five and the latest chapters of the manga.

Lord, she looked so much like him.

Rounded purple eyes and thick strands of black hair, she was his copy. Of course, genetically speaking, she was half his. And half yours. But Fyodor had a greater influence on your baby daughter. A squirming seven month old named Avdotya Fyodorovna Dostoevskya. Ironic, wasn’t it? That his child’s name meant good while he was evil?

It made sense, though. Yin and yang.

Putting down his pen, Fyodor looked over at the small makeshift crib that was next to his desk. In it was the sleeping Avdotya—Dunya, for short—wrapped up in cozy blankets and stuffed animals.

He’d worked enough for today.

Carefully picking up the newborn, his pale anemic hands cradled her, supporting her head as he held her to his chest. His heart sped up a bit when Dunya stirred a bit, but she ultimately didn’t wake up. She looked so calm and content in the moment. Fyodor shared the same feelings. Besides awe, of course.

For all of his planning and manipulation, he had never planned for a baby.

Sure, you were his wife, but he’d always use protection. An infant wouldn’t work with his current dangerous plans. Yet he somehow managed to knock you up. A completely unplanned variable in his plans. Yet it seemed so right. As a man of god, Fyodor couldn’t deny the blessing that God gave him.

His study door soon freaked open by your arrival as you quietly walked behind him, arms sliding around his neck in a tired way as your cheek pressed against the fluffy material of his ushanka.

“She’s doing okay?”

As if his little angel would ever be harmed.

“Of course, дорогой.”

He replied in an equally hushed tone. He turned his head slightly to the left, placing a gentle peck on your arm affectionately. For someone who regularly manipulated people who trusted him (albeit in a scared way), he could never find himself using you or his newfound family for his plans. God would disapprove of a man who hurt his family.

“You should rest. I’ll watch over her.”

It was only fair.

You had been watching Dunya constantly—babysitters and nannies couldn’t be hired due to his prolific crime record—while he was gone setting up his plans and relations. Fyodor had seen you cry over the stress multiple times. Each time he reassured you all would be better in due time. And it would be. When all the sinners of the world were gone, angels like you and Avdotya would be safe.

In the meantime though, he’d make you as happy as he could.

Feeling a gentle kiss on his cheek, Fyodor faintly smiled as you left for some much needed relaxation and sleep. Tucking his baby’s hair behind her tiny ears, he hummed a small lullaby.

He remembered that as a child his mother would sing some to him. It was one of the few comforting memories he had.

And his Avdotya should have the same experience.

Reaching the second verse of the lullaby, his deep voice quietly filled the room. He slowly rocked his baby, warmth flooding through his usually cold body. A peck on her perfect head.

He’d have to teach you these sorts of lullabies and cradle songs. While you knew a bit of Russian—limited to affectionate nicknames and general greetings—, you could do better. Perhaps you two could study together when Avdotya would nap. Him struggling with kanji, and you resting your head on his shoulder as you stared at Russian characters and committed them to memory.

Fyodor relaxed back into his chair, content with the familial moment.

The finale soon came.

He sat there for minutes afterwards, just taking in the sight of the life he created. Dazai was wrong. Fyodor was no demon, no, he was a god. He had created life, and so had God. And while others may point out the billions of other parents in the world, he’d merely dismiss their claims. They had birthed normal children.

Not an angel like his Dunya.

Could other children have such awe-inspiring eyes? Or the affinity she had for music just like her father—how she babbled and cooed in your lap while he played cello for the two of you. He knew she’d grow up to be something great like him. A firstborn always took after their father, in his opinion.

Standing up with little Avdotya in his arms, he walked to the nursery, passing by your shared bedroom where you were sleeping by now. Creaking open the door, he carefully navigated the dark room, lowering his daughter into her crib before carefully covering her with a warm blanket and her favorite stuffed toy.

A fuzzy penguin gifted by Sigma.

A lot of the nursery’s decorations were bought by Fyodor, but there were a few given by his fellow DOA members. Sadly, a majority of Nikolai’s gifts had to be scrapped. Dunya couldn’t use clown makeup or the miniature cherry bombs. A pity, really.

Fatherhood suited Fyodor rather well.

Flicking on a small nightlight, he soon left after a goodbye to his daughter. His footsteps pattered on the wooden floor, making his way to your bedroom to finally sleep off the day’s events.

Once again, the door slowly creaked open as he walked in. He already had his pajamas on—a baggy long black shirt and some black pants—, sliding into bed next to you as one hand found itself on your stomach, the other already playing with your hair. Fyodor admired your body. It grew his angel, and now it nourished her.

While you were adamant that you looked worse after birth, he could only say the opposite. All of the Renaissance paintings and sculptures had been wrong in their depictions of goddesses and heavenly figures. He could only see you as a true goddess who fell for a sinner like him.

Would such a goddess permit him to have another child with her?

Fyodor had grown up in a small family back in St. Petersburg. Just him and his mother. His father had left him long ago.

He didn’t want Avdotya to feel the same. Lonely.

Siblings would prevent that. Maybe two? Even three, if you felt up for it. He hadn’t said anything about it since you were still recovering and getting used to being a mother just to one child, but he oh so badly wanted a bigger family. More look a-likes of him and you.

“My goddess.”

His lips nuzzled against your hair, murmuring sweet affections and praise. Even he couldn’t have predicted such a thing like this. A wife. A daughter. A family of his own.

And even when weeks later he was stuck in Meursault with four other men playing Nikolai’s twisted game of escape, he thought about you. The plan would work, and he’d see you again after he faked his death. Sure, it might take weeks or months, but he’d come back. He’d made sure of it—having thought of the betrayal of his subordinates a while ago.

And when Dazai would later tug his severed arm out of the helicopter’s crash site, it wouldn’t have a ring on the ring finger.

That ring would be snugly set on his other hand.

They could take his body, his wealth, his intelligence.

But they couldn’t take him away from you and the vow you two had made. Until death do you part.

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx

Help this took so long

[iomoru]

Helloooo ^.^ I'm not sure if you've done this before, but could you write Albedo, Kazuha, and Heizou(seperate) with a reader whose main love language is physical affection?

(Thank you for writing my first request ^o^ + I hope you're doing well)

- Mercury anon

Whispers of Affection

A/n: ackk! Your very welcome mercury anon (◍•ᴗ•◍)!, I apologize for my late answer tho bc I got really busy with school work and I forgot to do it last night-

Genre: Canon Verse, Fluff, Gn! Reader, Touchy! Reader, Second Person, Proofread

Chars: Albedo, Kazuha, Heizou

Summary: In a world of adventure, you find warmth in simple moments of physical affection. Whether through gentle embraces or playful gestures, each encounter deepens your bond and reminds you that love thrives in the smallest ways.

Albedo:

The cool mountain air of Dragonspine nipped at your skin as you watched Albedo work on his latest alchemical experiment. His hands moved skillfully, carefully adding ingredients to a bubbling flask. You admired his focus, his sharp eyes narrowed in concentration. Yet, you couldn’t help but notice how long it had been since he even glanced your way.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the need for warmth—and something more. Taking a breath, you approached Albedo and quietly slipped your arms around his waist from behind, resting your cheek against his back. He tensed for a moment, then relaxed as he recognized your touch.

“[Name],” Albedo said softly, his voice gentle. He didn’t turn around, but one hand reached down to brush against your arm. “You know, you shouldn’t be this close to my experiments.”

“I just missed you,” you mumbled against his coat, the scent of pine and alchemical materials filling your senses.

Albedo’s lips curled into a small smile. “Missed me, did you?” he asked, setting down his materials and turning in your embrace to face you. His gaze softened as he looked at you. “You could have said so. I’ve been so caught up in work I must have neglected you.”

You nodded, and he pulled you closer, allowing you to rest your head on his chest. “You’re always so focused, but I like it when you take breaks.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I’ll be sure to take more breaks then, if it means spending them with you.” His hand came up to gently stroke your hair. “I can’t deny I enjoy this too.”

You sighed contentedly, the warmth of his embrace more than enough to ward off the cold. Even when words weren’t said, being close to him was all you needed.

Kazuha:

The breeze was gentle today, a soft wind playing with your hair as you walked side by side with Kazuha along the cliffs of Liyue. He’d been lost in his thoughts, watching the clouds roll by and listening to the leaves rustling in the distance. You admired how calm he always seemed, like a leaf floating effortlessly on the wind.

But today, you felt a little restless. You glanced at him and smiled, a sudden urge bubbling up inside you. Before he could react, you linked your arm through his and leaned your head on his shoulder. Kazuha blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly at you.

“Feeling affectionate today?” he asked, his tone light and teasing.

“Just wanted to be close,” you replied, squeezing his arm gently.

Kazuha chuckled, the sound soft and comforting. He adjusted his stance slightly to accommodate your weight on his shoulder, his hand brushing against yours as he held your arm more securely. “I don’t mind at all,” he said. “Your presence is like a calming breeze, always soothing.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. Kazuha always knew how to make you feel cherished, even in the simplest of moments. He lifted his free hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and affectionate.

“There’s something special about the way you express yourself,” Kazuha murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Every touch feels like a conversation, and I can’t help but listen.”

You hummed softly, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the quiet moment between the two of you. The sound of the wind and the warmth of his presence made everything feel right in the world.

Heizou:

You sat on the edge of a fountain in Ritou, watching as Heizou chatted animatedly with a merchant. His bright eyes sparkled with curiosity as he questioned the man, digging for clues on some mystery or another. You couldn’t help but smile at how engaged he was, even though the conversation had nothing to do with the two of you.

When Heizou finally turned back to you, his expression shifted from inquisitive to playful. “Were you getting bored waiting for me, [Name]?” he asked, crossing the distance between you in a few quick strides.

“I wasn’t bored,” you replied with a grin. “But I might be a little attention-deprived.”

Heizou raised an eyebrow, smirking as he stood in front of you. “Oh? Is that so?”

Without another word, you tugged him closer by his arm and wrapped your hands around his waist, pulling him down into an embrace. He stumbled slightly but quickly regained his balance, laughing as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders in return.

“You’re really bold today,” Heizou said, his voice warm with affection. “Not that I’m complaining. I guess I have been a little distracted lately.”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “You always get lost in your work.”

Heizou smiled and tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “And you always know how to bring me back,” he said softly. “You’re my anchor, you know that?”

You blushed slightly but didn’t let go, instead tightening your arms around him. “I just like being close to you,” you admitted.

“I like it too,” he replied, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll make sure to give you more of my attention from now on. I don’t want you feeling neglected.”

You smiled up at him, feeling your heart swell with warmth. Heizou’s arms tightened around you, and for a moment, everything else faded away. All that mattered was being in each other’s embrace.

A/n: I hope you liked this! (≧∇≦)/

© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.

[0oolookitsme]

i really really loved baby it's cold outside. the blushiness had me squealing can we has more pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee<3

Burning Up

You sent this request in long, long ago, bestie anon, and I just hope that you'll see and enjoy reading this fic!! I'm sorry for taking so long! I just wanna tell you that this fic has equal amounts of blushiness as 'baby it's cold outside', so it only felt right to attach your ask to this!

Verse - Dwd!Harry x Dwd!Y/n

Word Count - 2.0k

Warnings - Mentions of puke, fever, and passing out.

Harry is sick, and Y/n is panicking because she isn't quite sure how one takes care of a sick person, plus, she can't even cook well enough! But, as she takes care of him, it's like time slows down, and then speeds back up -- just like her heart each time that he lazily smiles at her.

"Harry!" Shrieking, Y/n rushed forward. Heart thudding, she crouched beside his slumped figure and turned him so his head was in her lap. He had been puking, she realised.

"Oh my god, Harry," her voice wavered, trying to get up and bring him with her. "You're burning up," she said to no one in particular, sweat breaking on her forehead as she felt some slip down her back as well.

She took in deep breaths, telling herself that it wasn't anything as bad as the conclusion her frantic mind had jumped to upon first sight. It was just a fever, a very high one at that.

Had she not woken up to use the bathroom, she wouldn’t even have realised that he was out of bed, and passed out on the bathroom floor!

With one hand, she flushed the toilet before clutching his wrist, hanging his arm across her shoulders. His head, on the other side, had slumped off her shoulder and was now brushing against her chest – but she couldn’t have been less bothered about that.

"This is bad, oh this is so bad," she shook her head, face palming herself in her head for not realising earlier that he was running a fever. For accepting his plee and sleeping before he had arrived home, because he was going to work a little later.

"Oh lord," she breathed, staggering forward but making sure that neither of them fell. "It's alright, we're gonna get you to bed," she reassured, not sure if him or herself.

Dropping him on the bed, she cursed when she realised that he had slumped over top of the blanket. Oh, she wasn’t strong enough for all of this!

Still, somehow, she managed to thank the heavens above that he had changed his clothes while raising his legs to get the blanket out from beneath him, proceeding to drape it over his lower half.

His torsos was almost in place, he just needed to move a little up in order to fit his legs.

“Please lord, just make sure he doesn't open his eyes for this one.” She muttered under her breath before crossing one of her legs over his lap.

Getting up on her knees she climbed a little higher so she was now hovering over his stomach, and then raised his shoulders through his armpits and pushed him up, cussing again when he stirred awake.

Of course, he woke up during this. Her breasts were in his face right now and he woke up!

"Y/n?" He croaked out, and Y/n almost flinched due to how hoarse his voice had gotten.

"Yes, yes," she rushed, getting off of him, onto the other side of the bed. "I'm right here."

She watched him heave a breath, before a smile pulled up on his mouth.

"You know, that was a nice view," he chuckled, face scrunching when a fit of cough followed.

With narrowed eyes, "you're hot," she stated.

"I know, love, but now's not the time," he managed to say.

Gasping loudly, Y/n covered her face. "I'm talking about your temperature, oh my god!"

Harry laughed at that, painfully coughing afterwards and closing his eyes due to the pure exhaustion, mumbling something.

"What was that, again?" Y/n asked, leaning in to hear him properly.

He mumbled again, something incoherent but Y/n could tell he had spoken something different from what he'd said earlier.

"I know I should've made you wear a coat," she shook her head, sighing with a slump of her frame.

But then, it was as if her senses knocked back into her. "God, what am even I doing," she smacked herself on the forehead before scurrying off of the bed and rushing to the kitchen.

She wet a towel there, throwing all of the ice they had left in the freezer into a large bowl before filling it with water. She dipped the small towel in it, squeezed out the water and walked back to the room carefully.

He seemed to have fallen asleep, so Y/n quickly folded the towel and put it on his head before rushing back to the kitchen to make a soup out of the little grocery they had at home.

It wasn't really her fault, it was the weekend, so, of course they were running out on fruits and vegetables.

So, almost on an autopilot brain, she took the frozen Kale from the fridge. Then, began collecting the ingredients. An onion, a garlic, some beans and potatos -- wait, he doesn't like potatoes in his soup, she remembered and put the two she'd picked out, back. A few Thyme Sprigs caught her eye and she snatched them, before adding a lemon into the small makeshift bowl her palm was right now.

And lastly, with a scrunched-up nose, she picked up the packaged chicken tenders from the freezer. Because whilst she did love herself some chicken, she couldn't, for the love of god, cook some herself because the feel of it made her sick to her stomach.

Once she had all of the ingredients set out, she rushed back to the room to check on Harry. He looked asleep, but she knew better. So, taking the towel off his forehead, she refreshed it in the ice bowl and put it back.

She got up afterwards and before she could've walked farther, Harry caught ahold of her hand. She turned to look, and his eyes were barely open but still set on her with a lazy smile on his mouth.

"Thank you," he rasped out.

An embarrassed smile grew on her lips. "Of course," she whispered before taking off towards the kitchen again, this time, burning up herself.

This was going to take longer than she wanted, so she began to move through the recipe as quickly as she could. Which was how, ten minutes into cooking, she cut herself a little on the finger while dicing the onions.

Hissing, she hurriedly wrapped a bandage around it and got back to work, hoping and praying that Harry was asleep and not in utter need of her. Although that would be flattering, it still wouldn't be practical.

Cooking wasn't her best skill. So many things, Harry had taught her how to cook when he'd married her about eight months ago. But she knew that something was better than nothing -- so what if the soup ended up tasting disgusting, at least she'd have something hot and healthy to feed him!

And as she was stirring the Kale into the soup to wilt and soften it, she wished nothing more than for her past self to buy a freaking booklet on how to take care of a sick person, because she was decently convinced that abandoning them for more than thirty minutes was not a part of it.

A creaking sound went to her ears, and she shrieked, jumping around only to see her half-asleep husband walking with all his might.

"What are you doing out of bed!" She panicked, walking over to support his heavy frame in some way.

"Oh, for the love of god, I need to pee," Harry grumbled, letting her drape his arm on her shoulder and walk him to the bathroom.

"Could've called me, you!"

Harry only mumbled some incoherent nonsense at that, waving her off before he seemed to realise how rude he was being.

So, just as incoherently, he uttered an apology to her and remembered nothing more than her laying him down on bed and falling on top of him because he laid down before she could've removed her arm.

That, felt nice. Almost every waking second that he spent near her, he just wished he could be a little bit nearer, hold her, maybe. Their marriage still felt so new, and he could tell that she wanted to take things slow.

And while he understood and respected that, he could also tell that he was falling for her as they grew closer and closer each day. He could see the frequency of the smaller and way more vulnerable gestures that sent shockwaves through him, increasing rapidly, like a wildfire. 

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry," she blabbered, rushing to get off of him and pulling her shirt down, face utterly flushed and breathing suddenly heavy.

She got flustered so easily, and so often, that he worried her heart was going to fall out of her chest some day. 

And as she was walking out of the room, she heard a small chuckle pass his throat, causing her to smack herself on the forehead.

Rushing the last couple steps to turn off the stove, she leaned on the kitchen counter to catch herself a breather. This man was going to be the death of her.

She took out some of the soup in a small bowl and put it down before taking some ibuprofen in her other palm. Then, still blushing, she walked back to the bedroom they shared.

"You hadn't taken any medicine before, had you?" She asked, and when he just mumbled something, she knew it was going to be hell of a work to get the soup into his system. She just wished she could inject it in, because she would need to be way too close to him to feed him in a normal way.

Placing the soup on the bedside table, she sat beside him and placed her hands behind his back as he began to get up. Shifting so she was sat facing him, she picked back up the bowl and began stirring it with the spoon.

"Here," she muttered, blowing on the spoon before bringing it to his mouth, her eyes unable to remain still.

He swallowed the soup, and a smile came up on his face. "Feels nice," he whispered, before opening his mouth for the next spoonful.

The same thing kept repeating and slowly, Y/n's eyes settled on his blissful face. She needed to wipe off the sweat on his face, she realised.

"Is it any good?" She asked softly, wiping the soup slipping down his chin with her fingers.

He nodded at that, looking at her in a way she couldn't quite describe. And she hated it when he did that because it made her feel things. Something erupted inside her chest, blood rushed to her face, and it felt funny in her in her stomach.

His head was tilted to the side, and he was looking at her without a blink of an eye. He was staring. Didn't he know staring was bad? She wondered, her eyes looking anywhere but at him.

Upon the last bit, she got up and passed the pill to him, helping him with drinking water. She walked off to the kitchen again, putting the dish in the sink before she went back to him with another towel, this time gently wiping his face.

"Can I have another blanket?" She heard him ask when she was squeezing his previous towel rid of the excessive water.

A chuckle passed her mouth then, making him smile with his eyes closed. "Do you really think that's a good idea, darling?"

Immediately, her eyes widened at the realisation of what she'd just called him.

"Darling, hm?" Of course, he heard it. "I like that," he chuckled, falling into a fit of coughs soon after.

Placing the cold towel on his forehead, she raised his head – placing it in her lap when she sat down. Slowly, she began to press his head, hoping that it felt more relaxing than annoying to him.

And when he groaned, she knew she was doing a good job.

They didn't talk after that, and when he began to snore, she changed his towel one last time before slipping into the bed beside him. Usually, she'd be on the very edge to make sure she didn't get too close to him. But only because he was sick, she slipped closer to him to keep him warm for the night.

And her breathing stilled while her heart began thudding inside her chest when he took her hand and softly intertwined their fingers – before then bringing her arm to slip over his torso and pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckles.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Unwanted Cravings.

Pairing: Yandere!Miguel O'hara x Reader (Spider-Verse).

Word Count: 1.3k.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Venom!Reader, Obsessive Behavior, No Actual Sexual Content But Unlimited Access to Miguel's Horny Thoughts, No Seriously This Man Just Wants To Be Topped But He Has To Be So Weird About It, and Slight Violence.

Miguel couldn’t remember the last time he’d been restrained.

Beaten, broken, pinned under falling rumble or sedated or exposed to a paralytic gas, but not restrained. When he was first coming into his abilities, maybe – he could picture himself waking up in some damp, depressing holding cell, but he’d never been handcuffed. If the cops managed to get their hands on him, he wasn’t in a state to resist, and his villains were rarely the ‘catch and release’ types. Or, most of his villains, at least.

This would be so much easier, if all you wanted to do was kill him.

Without warning, the tendrils of your symbiote binding his arms behind his back wrenched tighter – tearing something in his shoulder and drawing a low, pained grunt out of the base of his throat. He clenched his eyes shut, but opened them again just as quickly, turning his gaze toward you.

You were above him, but not out of reach. Perched on the edge of a well-beaten wooden crate, one leg crossed over the other, everything below your neck covered with the glistening black tar of your symbiote, you were staring down toward where he’d been forced to kneel on the cement floor, too, sizing him up with an expression bordering between total disinterest and utter boredom. The repulsion in your eyes alone was enough to spark something in his chest, to make him wonder if you’d look at him with the same indifference if he got his hands free and forced your legs apart, if he buried his face between your thighs and gave up air in exchange for something much more precious. He could do it, if he needed to. If he used his talons, if he pushed himself, he could do it.

But, he didn’t. He wouldn’t. Because you’d get hurt. Because you’d already proven you weren’t looking for a fight, just something to do.

Because you’d leave if he didn’t play along, and you couldn’t leave.

Not that you were in a rush. With an airy sigh, you leaned forward, letting your head lull to the side as you raised your foot, finding the underside of his chin. With more force than you really had to use, you tilted his head back, taking a moment to evaluate his swollen eye, the jagged cut you’d left along his cheekbone when your symbiote had momentarily mistaken him for its next meal. Eventually, your foot fell away from his chin, the sole of your boot finding a place against the center of his chest. He could feel heat rushing to his face, his breathing grow hoarse and ragged, and could only hope it was too dark for you to notice. “You look good with a little damage.” Cold, viscous condescension dripped from your tone, but Miguel had to fight the urge to preen. “You should drop the mask more often. Reaper might stop trying to take a bite out of you if she knew how pretty you could be, when you put the effort in.”

Pretty. A pang of something pure and electric shot from the base of his throat to the pit of his stomach. His breath hitched, and as if in response, your symbiote nipped at the corner of his jaw with just enough force to break the skin. He didn’t try to speak, too aware of how audibly his voice would wavevr - only glaring in your direction, doing what little he could to square his shoulders, to look like a hero. You just laughed, the noise flat and humorless. It made him want to carve your throat out. It made him want to kiss you until his lips bled.

“It’s not fun if you’re just going to make faces at me.” You clicked your tongue, rolled your eyes. “Who was that guy you were with the other day, the one who I threw through a billboard? He was cute – do you think he’d want to play with us, sometime?”

Miguel bared his teeth. Your symbiote purred with delight. “Peter’s not worth your time.”

Another laughed. A real laugh. “And you are? Tell me, Spider-Boy, what exactly can you do for me?”

Involuntarily, images flooded his mind by way of an answer. You, straddling his waist, riding him until he was barely conscious beneath you. Your body between his legs, thrashing void clinging to your skin as you split him open with the help of your symbiote, as you wrapped your clawed hands around your neck and squeezed. A tongue longer than his forearm forcing its way down his throat, the feeling of your body pressed against his, the wild grin you wore as you tried to tear him apart plastered across your lips as you—

The grin you were wearing now, he noticed, when he finally snapped himself out of his fantasies. Not as unrestrained, not extenuated by a thousand rows of pointed teeth, but just was sharp, just as piercing. Complimented by the glint in your eye you only ever got when you saw something you wanted to bite into. “You’re blushing.”

He bowed his head, cursing under his breath. “Let me go—”

“Don’t give me that.” A pair of think tendrils sprouted from his restraints, wrapping around his thighs and forcing his legs apart. Your foot fell farther, landing on his crotch and applying enough pressure to force a sharp hiss through his grit teeth. “Good guys aren’t supposed to lie.” You ground your heel into the base of his shaft and he doubled into himself, a violent moan tearing past his lips. “Be honest, this time – do you get this hard for every rouge you fight, or am I special?”

You were special. Of course, you were special. If you weren’t, his skin wouldn’t itch when anyone else so much as looked at him. If you weren’t, he wouldn’t melt so easily under your attention – hostile or affectionate. If you weren’t, he wouldn’t have to fight so hard not to grind into your heel, not to imagine your symbiote slipping underneath his suit, splaying him out, binding him in place and rendering him immobile, helpless, yours. He tried not to imagine the feeling of your hand against his chest, his waist. He tried not to imagine what you’d do to him, when you had him at your mercy.

It slipped out before he could swallow it back, before his better judgement could overshadow his primal need to feel your skin against his. “Please.” And again, as your lips quirked upward, as you rolled the sole of your boot against his crotch, “Please.”

“Please what, Spider-Boy? Ask for what you want.”

“I— I want you to—” To kiss his neck. To draw blood. To eat him alive. “I need you to touch me.”

There was a beat of silence. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, erratic and nearly overwhelming, nearly deafening.

Finally, you snapped your fingers, calling your symbiote back to you. Miguel fell onto his back, panting as you pushed yourself to your feet. As your mask crept up your neck, you spared him one more glance. For a second, he could’ve sworn you were going to turn on him, sink your claws into his neck, tear his beating heart out of his rib-cage. For a second, he could’ve sworn you were going to stay with him.

Then, your lips quirked upward into a lopsided smirk. You reached down, a bone-white claw emerging from your monstrous hand. Slowly, deliberately, you dragged the sharpened point down the length of his chest, splitting open the holographic fabric of his suit and drawing a thin, red line from his collarbone to the tender flesh of his upper pubic area. You watched with a glint in your eye as he stiffened, as his shoulders shook and a bright, searing heat seeped into his veins and dripped down his thighs. Once the aftershocks had faded, you let out a bark of a laugh, recalling your talon and standing to your full height.

“Fucking pervert.”

Without another word, without another sound, you disappeared into the night, leaving Miguel alone, frustrated, and already desperate to see you again.