#a little rough around the edges but that never hurt anyone

[lostinalem]

POV the woman you married for the Platinum Chip and subsequently murdered has arrived at your location but she can't decide if she wants to kill you or not

read more about Esme here

how did she get her gun in? she's crazy and delusional and knows the chairmen idk it just works

[kateschi]

in the stillness

synopsis: after an injury leaves you in the hospital, your husband stays by your side and watches over you, silent for a moment.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: him saying 'my wife' does things to me tbh

the steady beeping of machines fills the quiet hospital room, but katsuki can’t hear anything except the pounding of his own heart.

his eyes stay locked on you, lying still in the bed, wrapped in bandages that make his gut twist every time he looks at them.

he’s sitting beside you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched like he’s fighting back the urge to scream.

there’s a storm brewing behind his red eyes, and you can feel it—see it in the way his shoulders are tense, in how his leg hasn’t stopped bouncing since he got here.

“you can go home, y’know,” you murmur with a weak smile. “you don’t have to stay.”

his eyes snap to yours, his scowl deepening. “absolutely not,” he growls. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. you think I’m leavin’ you like this?”

you chuckle softly, even though it hurts a little to laugh. “I’m fine, katsuki. it’s just a few bruises. you’ve seen worse.”

“doesn’t matter,” he snaps, but there’s a roughness in his voice, something he’s trying to bury beneath the anger. “it doesn’t mean I’m leavin’. I should've been there faster. you wouldn’t be in this damn bed if I had been.”

you frown at his words, knowing exactly where his mind is going. “katsuki, it wasn’t your fault. I’m a hero too, remember? I know the risks.”

he scoffs, looking away from you, his hands tightening into fists on his knees. “don’t give me that crap. I’m supposed to have your back, and I didn’t. I was too slow.”

his voice wavers for a split second, and you see the guilt eating him alive.

“hey,” you say softly, reaching out to grab his hand. he flinches at the contact, not because he doesn’t want it, but because it’s you—hurt, reaching out to comfort him when it should be the other way around.

“I’m fine, katsuki,” you repeat, squeezing his hand gently. “you got there. that’s what matters.”

his gaze locks onto yours, fierce and frustrated. “no, what matters is that you wouldn’t be here if I’d been quicker. I shoulda seen it comin’. should've—”

you shake your head, cutting him off. “stop. you’re beating yourself up over something you couldn’t control.”

“that’s bullshit,” he snaps, standing up abruptly, pacing in the small space between the bed and the wall. his hands run through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. “I wasn’t fast enough. you could’ve died, because of me being too slow.”

the words hang heavy in the air, and you can see how much they’re weighing on him, tearing at him. this is katsuki at his rawest—angry not because of anyone else, but at himself.

he’s always been his harshest critic, and now, seeing you hurt, he’s taking all that anger out on himself.

you sit up a little, despite the dull ache that runs through your body. “but I didn’t, katsuki. I’m right here. you saved me.”

he stops pacing, standing still, his back to you. his shoulders are tense, and you can hear him take a deep breath, trying to reign in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.

when he finally turns around, his face is a mixture of anger and vulnerability—two emotions he’s never been good at handling.

“damn it,” he mutters, stalking back toward you. he sits on the edge of the bed this time, closer than before, and his hand finds yours again, this time holding on a little tighter.

“you don’t get it, y/n. I can’t—” his voice falters, and for a second, you see something crack in his usual tough demeanor.

“I can’t just sit here and act like it’s no big deal,” he says quietly. “seein’ you like that… I’m supposed to be stronger. supposed to be the one protectin’ you, and I couldn’t even do that right.”

your heart aches at how hard he’s being on himself, but you know this is how katsuki is. he carries the weight of responsibility like it’s his personal burden to bear, and any sign of failure hits him harder than it should.

you squeeze his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “you didn’t fail, katsuki. you got there. you stopped it before it got worse. that’s all I need.”

he doesn’t respond for a moment, just stares down at your intertwined hands, his thumb running over your knuckles absentmindedly. there’s a long silence before he speaks again, this time softer, more controlled.

“you’re my wife,” he mutters, almost like he’s reminding himself of it. “I’m supposed to keep you safe. you don’t get to get hurt like this.”

you smile, tugging lightly on his hand to bring him closer. “and I’m supposed to protect you too. we’re in this together, remember?”

he huffs, clearly still not happy with himself, but the tension in his shoulders eases just a little. “yeah, yeah,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair again.

but his hand never leaves yours, gripping it tightly like he’s afraid to let go.

“you’re not gettin’ rid of me,” he says after a long pause, his voice a little lighter now, though the worry is still there, lingering under the surface. “I’m stayin’ here until they force me out. and don’t even think about tryin’ to convince me otherwise.”

you laugh softly, the sound easing some of the heaviness in the room. “wouldn’t dream of it.”

for a moment, neither of you says anything, just sitting there in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

you can feel the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s still watching you like he’s waiting for something to go wrong, but you know he’ll calm down eventually.

he’s stubborn, protective, and always pushing himself harder than anyone else. but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“rest, will ya?” he mutters after a while, his voice softer now. “I’ll be right here.”

you nod, letting your eyes close as you feel the exhaustion start to catch up to you. his hand is still holding yours, warm and solid, a constant reminder that he’s there, just like always.

you can barely catch him raising your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to it.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[latenightdaydreams]

First time Konig and reader have sex. But size kink😩😩😩😩 Reader is petite

https://twitter.com/kinulta/status/1765084505810117118?t=HH9h6rCAbx7MwYLdqcOorQ&s=19

I imagine reader is gonna be like this and Konig fucks us til we pass out

As a shorty, I live for size kink König🙏🏽

König x Petite!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, size difference, size kink, petite reader

1.6k word count

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Being 6 '10, König usually dates women around 5’8- and up. They’re beautiful of course, but he has always wondered what it would be like to be with a tiny woman. Most of the interactions he’s had with small women have scared him; they’re incredibly fierce, and he is so awkward he freezes around them. Like an elephant with a mouse, he can’t explain it.

Then he meets you. On a random grocery shopping trip. He had to look all the way down to see your eyes, the top of your head reaching just below his chest. Instantly he became nervous, not knowing how to act. He wanted to make himself seem smaller and less intimidating since that’s all he is ever viewed as and you were so tiny.

Yet, you weren’t scared of him. You looked him right in the eyes and demanded he help you grab something from the top shelf, in a kind way of course.

“You have to help me; I can’t jump high enough.” You laughed and the sound gave König butterflies.

“Ja, sure, lead the way.” He was willing to follow you anywhere.

Two months later and you both have decided to make things official. He treats you like you’re made of glass, scared to even cuddle while sleeping because what if he rolls over on top of you? Other than oral sex and fingering, you both haven’t gone all the way yet. He is terrified his body weight will crush you or he will be too rough with your “delicate” body.

He can’t lie, he has always wondered what sex would be like with someone tiny, like 4’11-5’4, and now he has you. He’s watched a lot of porn of a tall big dick man absolutely dominating the smaller woman, but he never thought he’d be here. Seeing you in front of him makes him question the logistics of it all.

 König stands before you as you lie naked on the bed. He looks at your body before shifting his gaze down and rolling the condom down his length. A wave of nervousness rushes over him, mixed with excitement as he sees your hand go between your legs and begin to rub your pussy. His eyes slowly trail up your body to meet your eyes again.

“Are you sure you are ready?”

“Absolutely.” You’ve been begging for weeks; you aren’t going to back down now.

König smirks and walks to you, standing at the edge of the bed, looking at how your fingers circle your clit.

“How should we…start?”

“How you would with anyone.” You begin to laugh.

König blushes and lays on the bed beside you, “Come here.”

You smile and crawl over to him, straddling his hips. His eyes are drawn to your small body over his, keeping his hands to the side so as to not hurt you. He watches as you grab his cock and slowly lower yourself down on to him. König lets out a soft moan and grabs the sheets, refraining from grabbing you and pushing you down more.

“Fuck…” König drops his head back and closes his eyes.

At first you slowly bounce yourself on him, letting yourself get adjusted to his size. Watching him as he reacts to feeling his thick cock be swallowed whole by your tight little cunt. You put your hands behind you on his thighs as you move your legs so your feet are flat on the bed.

Slowly his hips begin to thrust up into you, he opens his eyes and leans his head forward to look down at you. Your breasts bouncing as your eyebrows are pinched from the pleasure, your eyes meet. He can’t help but to reach out and rest one hand on your breast and the other on your hip. He grips you tightly and begins to assist in your bouncing, making you speed up.

“Fucking ride that cock…” He lightly slaps your ass.

Both of your moans fill the room as you begin to slam down hard on him. He begins to feel himself want to fuck you harder, it scares him so he holds you still.

“Wait,” He is breathing heavily, “I- wait.”

“Are you about to cum?”

“No, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Jesus, König, you won’t!”

“Lay on your side.” He ignores your attitude and watches as you pull yourself up from his cock, it falls forward onto his stomach. The condom covered in your creamy white arousal. He wishes he could go in raw.

You lay on your side and look over your shoulder as he adjusts his big body behind yours. He gets close to you, grasping his cock as he rubs it along your wet folds. He pushes his hips forward slightly, feeling his tip slip in. He lifts your ass cheek up with his hand to push in easier, looking down and watching your pretty lips stretch to accommodate him. He places his huge hand on your waist, and begins to buck forward into your cunt lightly.

Your eyes still locked onto his as he fucks you, he leans in and kisses your lips softly before moaning and resting his head back on the pillow. You begin to push back into him every time he thrust in. The supple flesh of your ass bouncing with every hit.

“Please fuck me.” You beg, the arm you’re resting on outstretched and holding on to the blanket.

“Ja.” He moves his hand from your waist to spank your ass lightly again. His hand goes back as he begins to pick up his pace.

“Oh my god your cock feels so good in my tight little pussy.” You moan out in a pathetic voice.

“Mhm.” Your dirty talk is breaking him down as all he can think of is making you scream his name.

He closes his eyes again and tries to focus as your pussy squeezes him. He feels your hand fall on his face gently and caress his check, sending a chill down his spine.

“Please fuck me harder.”

He opens his eyes and looks at the side of your face as your head is turned. His eyes travel down your body and shit…he can’t hold back anymore.

“You want me to fuck you harder?”

“Yes!”

“Beg.” He growls.

“Please, please pound my pussy.” The new tone in his voice is something you’ve never heard from him before, and it excites you.

König lets out a loud groan as he holds your waist so tightly, he leaves red marks as he begins to slam his cock inside you repeatedly. You’re not able to catch your breath as the sound of flesh hitting flesh and your wet cunt is all that can be heard. Finally a loud moan escapes your lips and you move your hand from his face to his arm and hold it.

“Oh- fuck! König!”

“Scream my fucking name.”

He rams his cock into you so hard you feel a slight bit of pain, but you know if you say something he will never do it again so you stay silent.

“König!” Your nails dig into his arm, his hand holds you tighter. He can feel your pussy begin to squeeze his cock as you begin to babble as if you forgot how to speak.

“Just like that, cum on my cock.”

You move your hand from his arm and twist your upper half more to look at him. His blue eyes gazing down at you with a primal lust.  Moving his hand from your waist, he grasps your neck and holds lightly. Your bodies covered in sweat; he doesn’t stop relentlessly pounding his sensitive cock into you.

Slowly you feel yourself begin to see that euphoric build up again, your vision going double as you feel light headed.

“God- König.” You manage to mumble out as your body begins to shake.

König moves his hand from your neck to lift your leg, shifting his body to be now on top of yours as you stay on your side. With your leg on his shoulder and his body straddling your leg, he is able to shove his cock in even deeper.

“I want to feel you raw Liebling.” He moans kissing your leg as he pushes in deep and pulls out slowly.

In a dick daze you nod your head, agreeing to no condom. Quickly, König pulls out and yanks the tip of the condom, tossing it off the bed. Slowly he begins to push his cock back inside. The textured feeling of your warm gummy walls welcoming his cock was too much. Putting his fist into the mattress, he begins to roll his hips harshly fucking you. You moan out in a scream holding on to his arm. He gives you no time to even catch your breath. König watches your eyes roll back into your head as your body goes limp, but moans still leaving your lips.

“Don’t tap out on my now Liebling, I’m not done.”

He sits up and drags your hips closer to him, wrapping his arms around your leg and not letting up on his pace. König doesn’t stop until you stop moaning. Breathing heavy, he puts your leg down and leans over you.

“Schatz?” He grabs your jaw and turns you to face him. You don’t reply.

He feels for a pulse, you’re still alive. He pulls out and runs to get a washcloth and runs it under cold water, rushing back to you. He places it on your head and caresses your face, gently kissing you.

“I knew I was too rough…” He whispers to himself.

A cocky little grin on his lips because he fucked you so hard you passed out. He will forever tell this story.

[purifiedclitoris69]

Don’t Hide

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x exhydra!reader

Slight angst and fluff/comfort

Summary: After a rough mission, you slip back into what your life use to be, what you were trained to do. Hiding away and spiraling Natasha’s there to comfort you.

The mission had gone sideways, but you’d survived worse. A nasty cut on your side and a few bruises wouldn’t stop you now. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as you carefully locked the bathroom door behind you. The adrenaline was still coursing through your veins, the whispers of Hydra training clawing at the back of your mind.

You’d been sharing this bathroom..a room, with Natasha for just a few months, the two of you navigating the delicate balance of a new relationship. It wasn’t easy—two broken people trying to make sense of something good for once—but you made it work. At least, most days. But tonight was different. You didn’t want her to see you like this.

You sat on the edge of the tub, carefully pressing a towel to the cut on your side, watching the blood seep through. Your hands shook, but you forced yourself to focus. Breathe. Patch it up and move on. That’s what they taught you. Never show weakness. Never ask for help.

In the quiet of the bathroom, the echoes of Hydra training were louder than usual. You weren’t *here*—you were back in those sterile rooms, under harsh lights, voices barking commands. You tried to shake it off, but the memories gripped you tighter. Your throat closed up, and suddenly, you couldn’t find your voice. The blood spilling out and covering your hands wasn’t your own anymore, it was that of your victims. The flashes of the cruel deaths you inflicted. The dozens of assassinations, slaughters.

Outside, Natasha had just returned from her own mission, tired but relieved to be back. She was looking forward to unwinding with you, maybe sharing quiet moments in the space you now called yours. But the minute she stepped into your shared room, she knew something was wrong.

The faint scent of blood hit her nose, and her eyes darted toward the small droplets leading to the bathroom. Her heart sank. You were hurt. Worse, you were hiding it from her.

She crossed the room swiftly, her own exhaustion forgotten. When she reached the bathroom door, she knocked, a firm but controlled sound. "Y/N?" Her voice was steady, though there was a hint of concern. "Can you open the door?"

You froze, your hands trembling more now. You didn’t want her to see this, to see you like this. Weak. Silent. You were meant to be a ruthless killer, the perfect soldier. You tried to stand, to clean up the blood before she could come in, but your knees buckled under the pressure.

"Y/N," Natasha continued, a slight edge and frustration creeping into her tone. "What happened out there, let me in.”

Your mind raced, Hydra’s voice overlapping with hers. Don’t let anyone in. Turn it off. Don’t show any vulnerability, any emotion, or you will be punished. You gritted your teeth, the walls around you closing in. Your breath hitched, and suddenly you couldn’t respond. The words were there, but they wouldn’t come.

Natasha, on the other side of the door, was getting worried. The silence on the other side was too familiar—the kind of silence born out of fear or pain. She knocked again, a little louder this time. "Y/N, open the door, right now, I’m serious. I need to see if you’re okay."

She wasn’t yelling, not really, but the firmness in her voice felt like too much. Like an order. Your chest tightened, and the panic swelled, pushing you deeper into the memories. The room blurred as your pulse raced. You messed up this mission, you didn’t follow orders, you should expect repercussions. All you could hear now were the commands from long ago: “stay quiet, fix it yourself, don’t be a liability.”

When Natasha heard the shallow, unsteady breaths through the door, she knew. This wasn’t just about the injury. She knew that sound—it was the sound of you slipping into something darker, something that haunted both of you. Her own frustration faded, replaced by the urgent need to help you.

She carefully jimmied the lock, opening the door slowly, not wanting to startle you. And when she saw you, sitting on the bathtub, bloodied and shaking, her heart broke. You were trying so hard to patch yourself up, but it was clear you were far from okay. The familiar signs of an episode setting in—shaky hands, heavy breathing, racing heart, visions of the past blending with the present.

Natasha crouched in front of you, her movements deliberate, not touching you but close enough for you to feel her presence. Her voice softened, calm but insistent. "Hey, it’s me. You don’t have to do this alone. You’re not back there. You’re here, with me."

Her words cut through the fog, but barely. Your hands were shaking too hard now, and the towel you were using to stop the bleeding slipped from your grip. Tears welled in your eyes, as you clenched your jaw hard enough to crack teeth, willing yourself to keep them at bay. You tried to tell her you were fine, but your voice wouldn’t cooperate. The training, the trauma—it was all rushing back too fast.

Natasha sighed softly, guilt tugging at her for being stern earlier. "I’m sorry I got loud. I just… I needed to know you were okay."

You blinked, trying to hold back the tears, but Natasha saw them anyway. Her gaze softened even more, the concern etched into her face. She moved slowly, standing and carefully taking the towel from you. "Let me help, okay?"

You didn’t protest this time. The panic was still there, the memories still too close, but Natasha’s presence grounded you. She pressed the towel to your side gently, her touch reassuring, her focus entirely on you.

As she worked to clean the wound, she spoke softly, not to ask questions or pry, but just to remind you she was there. "I know you’re used to handling things on your own. But we’re a team now. You don’t have to hide this from me." She softly cleaned the cuts in your face too, applying bandages and ointments.

Her words made something inside you shift, a tiny crack in the armor you’d built. You nodded, your breath still shaky but steadier now. The room felt a little less suffocating with her by your side.

When she finished patching you up, Natasha finally met your gaze, cupping your face "We’ll figure this out together, okay?"

You nodded subtly, eyes still distant, you mumbled something inaudible.

she kissed the top of your head and held you against herself, “I love you.” she whispered so softly.

“I love you too, pretty girl,” you answered against her, bring your arms to wrap around her waist and hold her ever so gently.

The tension in your body begins to ease as she softly runs her fingers through your hair, her touch grounding you. She doesn’t push, doesn’t ask you to talk, just sits with you, her presence a quiet reassurance.

Her voice is low and soothing as she hums softly, her hand tracing calming circles on your scalp. Slowly, the chaos in your mind begins to fade, the safety of her touch allowing you to breathe a little easier. She stays like that, holding you through the storm, a silent promise that you’re not alone.

For the first time that night, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you didn’t have to face this battle alone.

[enchantedflameandflower]

billy teaching his girl how to smoke a cig would be so attractive

I feel like maybe they would go out to a bar or something and in like a tipsy confession she says “i’ve never smoked” or something like that ”idk how to smoke properly im always coughing its so embarrassing blah blah blah”

Need my man to guide me through it

Billy x you! Nsfw 18+ only for smoking, smut, piv, creampie, hint of exhibitionism

Thank you SO MUCH for this ask anon! Once I got the idea for the vibe it just took off. Hope you all enjoy!

~

It’s late, almost midnight, and you’re sitting up on the roof of your apartment building with Butcher and a cold bottle of beer each. The air is a little chilly but not bad and no one else seems to ever come up here so it’s nice. You’d met Butcher at the bar but it had been crowded and annoying so you’d invited him back to your place. 

The building seems to be mostly made up of elderly people but you love it. They’re kind and quiet and you love being able to help them when they need. The random baked goods you receive from time to time don’t hurt either. There’s one old lady specifically that Billy has charmed completely. He’s definitely got her wrapped around his little finger, that one. 

And you enjoy the quiet at night. You’re sitting cross-legged on a sort of concrete platform on top of the roof that’s at the perfect height. Billy is sitting next to you, his big booted feet planted on the ground of the roof.

You can’t help glancing over at him, and you know affection is shining in your eyes but you can’t help it and you don’t care. You’d started this sort of friends with benefits casual thing a couple months ago but you were falling for him hard and you knew it. Yeah, he was rough around the edges, really rough, but there was so much more to him and you had never cared what anyone else thought. 

And damn if he wasn’t the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. Tall, dark and brooding as fuck. 

“I thought you quit,” you murmur, nodding toward the cigarette he’s puffing lazily next to you. 

He smirks. “I did. Don’t know what ‘cher talkin’ ‘bout.” He takes another drag then holds it out toward you.

You pause for a second but then you take it between your fingers. “I always feel like I’m not doing it right…” you half joke. “And then I just cough.”

Billy looks at you. “All this time on planet ‘earf and ya don’t know how to smoke proper? It ain’t that hard, love…” He grins mischievously. “Just wrap those pretty lips ‘round and suck. But slowly, not too much. An’ let it out slow like, too.”

You nod, pursing your lips around the cigarette but Billy scoots closer immediately. 

“Not so tight, love, relax. Little more slack…ya know, like how ya move your lips when me cock’s slidin’ in.”

You’re immediately pulling the cigarette out of your mouth as your cheeks flush. “Butcher!” 

He just grins and inches back on the platform before he tugs on your wrist, pulling you to sit in his lap and guiding your hand back up. “Try again.”

You try not to think about how good his hard thighs feel beneath you and put the end of the cigarette up to your lips but let it rest there between the two instead of gripping it. You take a slow inhale in, and then slowly blow it out again, watching as the swirl of white smoke drifts gently away. 

Butcher squeezes your hip. “There ya are, doll, see?” he grins, his dimple showing and you know he’s thinking his metaphor is what made all the difference.

“You’re a menace,” you murmur, handing the cigarette back to him. 

Butcher takes a long drag, then after a moment lets go. The thick smoke curls out from his full lips and between the both of you as he exhales. There’s something so fucking sexy about the way he does it and the glimmer in his eyes as he catches you looking at him. He continues to exhale, the smoke kissing your mouth. You breathe it in, swearing you can taste him on it. 

Holding the cigarette up to your mouth again, Butcher watches as you pull lightly and his dark hazel eyes go even darker with heat.

The look makes you squirm in his lap and his big hand clenches your waist. “Ya keep that up and I’m gonna end up takin’ ya right here on this concrete,” he threatens - promises? - a low husk to his voice now. 

Yeah…the thought of that and his gruff tone make you wet for him immediately. It’s been a couple weeks since the last time you slept together and suddenly now you need him so much it hurts. 

He must be able to tell by the look on your face because the corner of his mouth lifts in a wicked smirk. “Ya like that idea, dontcha doll?” 

“Maybe…” you murmur and he tsks at you. He gives you the cigarette and you hold it up to your mouth again as his hand slips down between your thighs. Your leggings and your thin underwear do next to nothing to shield your already throbbing clit from his rough fingers.

He presses in firmly, rubbing his fingertips in a little circle, and his smile widens. “I can already tell, hot and slick for me, aren’t ya.”

Two can play this game, you think. Leaning forward, you bite his full lower lip and he growls, sliding his hand in your hair and tugging you close to capture your mouth fully with his. He tastes like cigarettes and beer and something uniquely him, masculine and rich.  

His tongue slides over yours, hot and possessive and it turns your insides to jelly, somehow making you want him even more when you thought you were already at the max. You moan into his kiss as his tongue strokes into your mouth. The sensation makes you shiver, your center throbbing for him, clenching around nothing. How you wish he was already buried inside you. Butcher holds you closer against him and only breaks the kiss when you push at his chest, gasping softly for air. 

His eyes are dark with need and his gaze is intense. His eyes flick to your lips and you know they must be swollen and pink from his kiss. Your breath is still coming in little pants but you panic a little under his steady stare.

“What?” you ask, a little scared of the answer, but the look in his eyes is making you think crazy stupid things that couldn’t possibly be real, you had to be dreaming…

“Ya don’t even know how bloody gorgeous you are, do ya?” he husks. 

“I - ” you swallow, your muddled brain trying to make sense of what he was saying. Fuck. His hand is still pressed between your thighs and you groan as he shifts you closer. The motion presses his thick knuckle right against your cunt.

“Fuck Billy…need you, please…” you gasp, wriggling against his hand, your eyes fluttering closed.

You don’t want to wait to go back downstairs, you don’t want to wait another second, you want him right here, right now out in the open air, all of his teasing way too much to bear. You’ll beg for it if you have to.

But you don’t. 

Billy is moving the instant you stop speaking. He lets go of you to strip his battered old coat off and you squeak, throwing your arms around his neck, the cigarette still between your fingers, to keep from getting dumped right off his lap.

He tosses his coat on the cement next to you then reaches down to pull your shoes off, before standing and flipping you over to lay you down across his coat. 

“Such a gentleman,” you tease, smiling up at him from your prone position. The cement is still cold and hard beneath you and his coat, but you don’t care and you know you’ll appreciate the lack of cement burn in the morning. 

“Oi, when am I not?” he grins devilishly  and before you can answer he’s pulling your leggings down your long legs, and everything else with them, stripping you bare from the waist down.

He catches your gaze, then his big hand slides from your hip to your side, pushing your shirt up. He bends down to nip and bite at your stomach then drags his mouth over your skin, beard tickling and rubbing, until he reaches your breasts. You wiggle and arch to help him push your shirt and bra up the rest of the way under your arms until you’re naked from your tits down, spread out for him on the cement platform in the night air.

“You’re a fuckin’ sight, ain’t ya,” he rumbles, his eyes taking their fill of you as his rough hands smooth over your body and the chilled air licks at all your naked skin. “Think anyone can see?” He glances up to the right of you, at a taller building next to this one that clearly has lights in some of the windows. 

You whimper, squirming and closing your eyes. “Oh god…” you breathe. 

“Splayed out naked, out in the open here and practically beggin’ for me,” he hums.

“Billy,” you gasp. You aren’t sure if you want to just hurry up and get it over with or if you’re actually going to explode with pent up lust but either way you need him to fuck you now.

Billy seems to acquiesce and he palms your breast, tugging at your tight nipple with one hand while the other undoes his buckle and the button of his jeans. 

He takes the cigarette out of your hand and puts it back in his mouth, holding it with his teeth and taking another long puff as he unzips his jeans, pushing them just low enough on his hips so his thick cock can spring free. He flicks the cigarette aside on the cement then uses both hands to tug on your hips, pulling you to the edge. 

“Fuck…Billy,” you groan as he slots his swollen length against your slick cunt and presses your thighs further part then starts to push in. 

“Don’t need to tell me twice…” he rumbles. 

You stretch for him as he slides inside you, but he’s so big and you have to take a breath to relax enough to take him all the way. 

“So fuckin’ tight,” he groans in a gruff voice, and he shifts to slip his thumb over your clit to help ease his way inside. 

The moment the tip of his thumb circles the slick, tight bud, pleasure bursts inside of you and he thrusts all the way in, filling you up. 

It’s so good. You cry out loud, then quickly lift your hand to cover your mouth and muffle the sound but Billy grabs your wrist, pulling your arm away. “N‘uh…need to hear ya, love. Need to know how much you need my cock…”

“Everyone will…hear…” you whimper as he thrusts inside you again. 

“Won’t know it’s you, doll. Let them listen. Let them hear how good my cock makes you feel…”

All you can do is moan as he thrusts again and then again, his fingers teasing at your stiff nipple and then your clit again, driving you mad, always knowing where to go next. But you need more, you need all of him. 

“Harder…please…Billy…” you moan, clenching around his cock as he buries it deep, gripping the edges of his coat with your fingers. 

“Tha’s my good girl,” Butcher growls, thrusting harder and picking up his speed, hitting that perfect spot inside of you over and over.

You’re crying out with each deep thrust now and you don’t care who hears. When you wrap your legs around his hips, he leans down and presses against you, catching your shoulders and holding on as he groans against the curve of your neck. You can feel the vibration from his chest just as he thrusts, hitting every nerve ending on the way. It makes you cry out loud again, desperate and wanton. The sound echoes off the brick walls, making you blush harder as the pleasure of it zings straight to your clit. Fuck why does it turn you on even more…and it’s so annoying how quiet he can be even when he’s making you crazy. 

After another moment though, all thought leaves your mind and all you know is how fucking good Billy feels as you balance on the knife edge of bliss. The base of his cock pushes right against your clit as he gives one last hard thrust and then starts to pulse deep inside of you. It’s more than enough to make you come too. You’re crying out his name before you can stop yourself in choked moans and gasps that can definitely be heard in the next building as your body shudders in overwhelming pleasure.

Butcher slumps against you as he finishes emptying himself in your body and you curl your arms around his neck, your cunt still fluttering around him as the waves of pleasure from your climax only slowly start to abate.

The cigarette lays forgotten going cold beside you as he finally pushes himself up and tucks his cock away. You can still feel his come leaking out of you, mixed with yours, warm and sticky on your thighs but you can’t even find the energy to cover yourself.

When he starts to slide your clothes back on for you, you make a little noise, tiredly protesting at the mess still between your legs, but he hums and shakes his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that smirk he has with a glint in his hazel eyes. “Have to wait ‘til we get back down to your flat, love. You like it, dontcha? Feelin’ what ya made me do?” he adds, his voice still gruff and low with sex. 

You make a sound of resignation but it is kind of hot, his small possessive way of marking and claiming you. You’re his.

When he has your bottom half dressed again, he grabs your hand and tugs you up, helping you pull your bra and shirt back in to place. You feel completely boneless and blissed out, and you quirk your lips in a half smile as you look up at him. “Fuck Billy…” you whisper. 

He chuckles softly and pulls you close against his broad chest in a hug, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get ya back inside and practice some more with that pretty mouth o’ yours, love, eh? Need ya too much.”

~*~*~ Thanks again anon, hope you like! Also thanks to @butchersdarkbird for letting me chat about it, @shirley-girly for giving me the perfect idea for a line for Billy on her reblog of a previous post and @dwinchesterspie1967 for the idea of including extra of his devilish smirk ❤️

@jynx15 @kus-babygirl @weallhaveadestiny @karlurbanism

@dustie-faerie @violent-darkness @bohemianblasphemy

karl urban masterlist

[benjinotes]

𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 (𝐩𝐭.𝟐) - benjicot blackwood (fancast)

summary: a few months after you and Benjicot start dating, your mom invites him to a family dinner.

pairing: benjicot blackwood x fem reader

warnings: whipped benji, over protective dad and older brother, sweet rhaenyra, modern au, smut, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, heavy make out, rough sex (?), sweet but not innocent reader […]

n/a: reader is rhaenyra and harwin's daughter, her last name is strong, i don't know anything about american football

wc: 4.3K

don’t translate without my permission!

As he slammed the car door shut with a resounding thud, Benjicot ran a trembling hand through his hair, his nerves on edge. He took a deep breath for what felt like the thousandth time, trying to steady his racing heart, and clenched his fists tightly in a futile attempt to stop them from shaking any further.

To say he was nervous about tonight was an understatement—in fact, he was terrified, and knowing that this was a necessary step in his relationship with you, he did everything he could to remain calmer, which clearly wasn't working.

Every step he took felt calculated, almost as if he were on the field about to execute a crucial strategy. Perhaps it was a desperate attempt to hold on to the last vestiges of confidence he had left, remembering how on the field that confidence enveloped him like a comforting embrace.

There, however, he felt as if he would be strangled at any moment. The fear of disappointing your family at that dinner consumed him, but what distressed him even more was the possibility of disappointing you.

Benji knew that disappointing you would be one of the hardest things someone could do, since you were so sweet that you almost never held a grudge, no matter how much someone hurt you. But even so, he didn’t want to risk it happening.

You were the person who had supported him the most in recent months, and he knew that putting up with him was not an easy task—quite the opposite. That’s why he was absolutely sure that you were his most dedicated admirer, just as he was also your number one fan.

So, maybe that’s why he was so determined to put aside his explosive and often inappropriate behavior during the few hours the dinner would last. What seemed like an impossible challenge to many was, for him, exactly the opposite. Since you both started dating, he had become much calmer and more focused, which clearly shocked everyone around you.

However, for Benji, that was normal; after all, you were capable of bringing out the best version of anyone around you, and you made everything that was once an effort in Benji’s life become something natural and easy, almost as if he were floating in the relationship in a gentle and relaxing manner.

Your constant care and support not only smoothed his rough edges but also showed him a new way to live and love. And damn, he loved you so much it hurts.

So, maybe that’s why he was so willing to repay everything you had done for him. He wanted to make sure that this night was special, demonstrating how much you meant to him. And if that meant he had to face your parents and siblings, he was willing to do it a million times.

Yet, Benjicot couldn't shake the feeling of goosebumps that ran through his body when his finger touched the doorbell of your family's house, and he felt his palms sweat and anxiety washes over him as he heard the footsteps approaching from the inside. For a brief moment, it seemed like the sky above him was closing in a little more, and the sound of the doorknob turning and the creaking of the door as it opened only intensified his nervousness.

When the door opened, Benji swallowed hard, feeling anxiety rush through his veins, but as soon as he saw your pretty figure in front of the large doors, his heart skipped a beat with relief, and a smirk appeared on his face for a moment. Forgetting how sweaty his hands were, his eyes completely focused on you like always.

“You're a little early, don't you think?” You smiled in his direction as soon as you opened the front door, and when he noticed the slippers on your feet, he let out a short laugh, looking attentively behind you before placing his hands on your waist.

You raised an eyebrow at the gesture, but Benji could see the sweetness in your eyes despite the playful attitude.

"Well, I always like to come early for important occasions, sweetheart." He said with a light laugh, as his hands gently caressed your waist. Your hands instinctively moved to his arms, massaging them gently as you looked up at him with a loving smile.

“Besides.” He added in a tender tone, “I missed you.” He confessed in a low, but sincere voice and was met with your laughter, which seemed to dissolve the remaining anxiety he had. This only made his smile widen, genuinely happy to hear you laugh again.

“Did you miss me?” You asked with a giggle, bringing your body dangerously close to Benji's. His mischievous smile widened, almost making him forget where he was and why he was there. “We were together just a few hours ago.” you continued, your voice tinged with amusement, smiling again and letting your fingers lightly squeeze his arms. A light blush colored your cheeks as you remembered the intimate moment you two shared earlier that afternoon.

He looked behind you to see if anyone from your family was looking before moving a little closer to your body and tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, which made you blush, and he smiled at your reaction while humming softly, “It’s been too long.” With a soft murmur, he added. “The hours drag by when I’m away from you!” He said this in a playful tone, but the look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t lying.

You laughed loudly again, which made the corners of his mouth rise a little more, while his eyes were still focused on you. You could feel his breath almost mixing with yours.

“You seem very confident,” you teased, the confidence you had gained over the months of your relationship present in your voice, which still had the softness that Benji loved. "Let's see if you maintain that stance when we're having dinner with my family." At that, Benji's eyes widened, remembering what he was doing there.

Benjicot swallowed hard for a moment, and the sound of laughter from inside the house made him move away from your body a little; however, he still kept his hand around your waist, unable to move without touching you.

You, on the other hand, blinked gently, growing increasingly concerned at his lack of reaction. You couldn’t recall ever seeing him so nervous before. With a tender gesture, you moved your hand to his forehead, brushing away the rebellious strands that insisted on covering his green eyes. Quickly, you lifted your feet, still clad in fluffy slippers, to place a soft kiss on his cheek, hoping to offer him some sense of comfort despite his current state.

Upon feeling the soft touch on his cheek, Benji looked at you again, which led you to give him a brief kiss on the lips, causing his heart, previously racing with nervousness, to start beating at a calmer pace. However, seeing your lips move away so quickly, he couldn't help but be slightly disappointed, and he almost forgot the way your lips had explored his body that same day.

“You don't need to be nervous.” You spoke softly. "You already know my family; this is just a simple dinner." You pointed out, and Benjicot looked at you with half-closed eyes, tilting his head gently to the side.

The truth was that Benji had already met your family casually; Jace had been friends with him since they both ended up in the same economics class at university, and although Jace liked him as a teammate and classmate, Benji felt that, despite his friend's approval, Jace wasn't very excited about the idea that he would be his future brother-in-law.

Your mother, although she had an intimidating presence, made a point of making him feel welcome and treated him with affection. However, Benji knew that any mistake he made against you could provoke her fury. Your father was another story; the man always intimidated him immensely. Dealing with a former NFL player and team coach was scary enough; now knowing that this same player was your father made the situation even more complex, especially since you were his only girl.

What comforted him most at that moment was knowing that your younger brothers liked him and that your stepfather, Daemon, would not be present at that dinner.

"You always know how to calm me down, don’t you, sweetheart?" Benji murmured softly, his voice filled with warmth. He placed a tender kiss on the top of your head and then gently lowered his hands, hoping you'd intertwine your fingers with his.

"Of course I know." You smiled in amusement, intertwining your fingers with your boyfriend's, who gave your hand a light squeeze, seeking comfort in your sweet touch.

The sound of laughter from inside the house grew louder as a reminder of the night ahead, and he could have sworn he heard little Joffrey screaming from inside, which made the corners of his mouth turn up just a little. With your hand firmly in his, he felt a wave of calm and readiness. He looked at you, his eyes showing a bit of hesitation and excitement, almost as if he were eager for the challenge.

“Let’s get this over with,” Benji said in a low whisper, and you felt your skin crawl at the tone, which made him bite the inside of his cheek. However, you ignored his nervous gesture and pulled him inside by the hand with a little more force than usual.

As you two entered, the lively atmosphere of your home enveloped you both, along with the loud voices of your brothers, who seemed to be involved in yet another fight. You and your boyfriend laughed together as you watched Luke try to hit Jace in the face with one of his slippers.

Benji looked at you with amusement as he took in the lively scene before him. Noticing that your brothers were still wrapped up in their playful argument, you cleared your throat deliberately, hoping to regain some control over the situation.

The commotion subsided slightly as everyone, including Joffrey, who had almost tripped as he ran up from the back of the house, turned their attention toward you.

“Look who’s here!” you said, raising your voice to be heard above the remaining chaos. You gently released Benji’s hand and reached down to lift little Joffrey into your arms. As soon your youngest brother saw Benji, he stuck out his tongue in a playful gesture. Benji, catching the playful mood, responded by sticking out his own tongue, a grin spreading across his face as he enjoyed the lighthearted interaction.

"Benjicot," Jace greeted in a serious tone, his voice carrying a weight that made Benji tense up. Realizing that Jace would be more of a protective big brother than a supportive friend during this dinner, Benji bit the inside of his cheek, preparing himself for the challenge ahead.

"Jacaerys," Benji greeted back, trying to match the serious tone. You let go of your younger brother and gave your older brother a look of mild reprimand, but Jace just shrugged and pointed with his chin towards the dining room.

You and Benji exchanged quick glances—his filled with a touch of nervousness, yours a mix of excitement and worry.

"Mom and Dad are already in the dining room; we were just waiting for you," Luke interrupted, noticing his older brother's posture. Benji could see that Luke was trying hard not to grimace at Jace's behavior, which almost caused the corners of Benji's mouth to lift up a little. That was exactly why Luke was his favorite.

Giving Benji a reassuring glance, you guided him—almost dragging him—toward the dining room, with your siblings trailing behind. As he entered the spacious room, he took a deep breath and felt his tension ease upon seeing your parents chatting cheerfully.

You still remembered Benji’s shocked expression when you told him that your parents were divorced but maintained a civilized relationship. It was a situation quite unfamiliar to him, but he seemed to be starting to adjust to the unique family dynamics. You think, at least.

“Goodnight,” he greeted warmly as he smoothly pulled out your chair and helped you sit down. Rhaenyra glanced over with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased with his considerate gesture.

“We haven’t started dinner yet,” your father said for the first time, flashing Benji a forced, overly polite smile. Benji, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach, took his seat next to you with a wary glance. “The evening only truly begins after we’ve had dinner,” Harwin continued, his tone carrying a hint of unspoken challenge.

You noticed your siblings trying to stifle their laughter, while your mother shot your father a disapproving look. Despite the subtle tension, Harwin remained unfazed, taking a slow sip of his wine as if nothing were amiss.

"Well then, good afternoon," Benji replied fast, and his lips curled into a slight smile as he saw you and your mother chuckling at his response. However, his smile quickly faded when he noticed your father's narrowed eyes fixed on him. The intensity of your father's gaze made him feel little, and he had to make an effort to maintain his composure under the scrutinizing attention.

He could see Jace smiling across the table, which made him lick his teeth.

You placed your hand gently on his side, whispering some words of comfort, which made him place his hand on top of yours.

“Harwin!” Rhaenyra called out with a firm tone, causing the man to straighten his back. You gave a satisfied smile at the interaction. “Stop scaring the poor boy!” she reprimanded. Harwin rolled his eyes but didn’t dare counter her; no one was foolish enough to do so.

“I’m glad you accepted my invitation,” she continued, this time turning her attention towards Benji, trying to move on from the awkward situation. Her tone softened as she spoke, and Benji gave her a grateful smile. 

“I'm truly glad you invited me,” he replied sincerely. Benji was surprised when he received the invitation from your mother. Although he had always had a good relationship with her, having met her a few times at football games, the situation was entirely different here.

Rhaenyra Targaryen was the woman who raised you and gave you life. It was thanks to her that you were who you were, and Benji felt a deep gratitude for that. Moreover, he knew she was your greatest inspiration, and he was thankful for being welcomed by her so warmly.

“Benjicot,” your father said, his tone surprisingly calm, yet Benji could sense the underlying threat. The interruption made everyone at the table pause and shift their attention to Benji, who tensed under Harwin’s piercing gaze. You squeezed Benji’s thigh unconsciously, a mix of concern and apprehension evident in your gesture.

"Do you really care about my daughter, or is this just a desperate attempt to get attention after last season?" Harwin's question cut through the air, and your eyes widened in shock as you felt a slight tremor run through you.

The dining room fell silent, but Rhaenyra remained composed, her posture unwavering as she understood her ex-husband's intentions. Jace, on the other hand, looked visibly irritated at the prospect of such a notion being true.

"Dad!" You scolded, your voice tinged with irritation. Benji had never seen you so visibly shaken, and his heart ached at the sight of your agitation. "What on earth are you trying to do?" you hissed, your hand unconsciously tightening its grip on Benji's thigh as you struggled to keep your composure.

Your father shrugged, a glint of challenge in his eyes. “I’m just asking a question,” he said, his tone casual but laced with an edge. He turned to Benji, his gaze piercing. “Are you afraid to answer?”

Benji’s free hand tightened into a fist, and he let out a frustrated sigh, using his other hand to gently massage yours. “I’m not afraid, Coach Strong,” he said through clenched teeth, attempting to ignore the smirk on your father’s face and the worried glances from your younger siblings.

"Then answer me." The oldest said this, tilting his chin towards his daughter's boyfriend.

You were about to open your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, Benji cleared his throat.

“I love your daughter,” Benji began, his voice steady. The room fell silent, all eyes fixed on him as he continued. “I’m not using her to seek attention or validation—quite the opposite.” His tone grew more sincere, though it remained firm. “She means everything to me. From the moment I wake up until I fall asleep, she’s on my mind, and I’m certain she never leaves it. Her kindness and the way she inspires me to be a better person are invaluable. I may not know exactly when these feelings began, but they are deep and, above all, sincere.”

He paused, taking a deep breath, as he met Harwin’s gaze directly, which now held a hint of pride. “She didn’t make me fall in love with her suddenly or temporarily. Instead, she guided me to walk in love with her, and this journey has been so soothing that I believe it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever done unconsciously. And I’m grateful that she reciprocates my feelings.”

After his confession, you bit your lip hard, torn between the urge to cry or leap into his arms. As you looked around, you saw that your mother was already struggling against tears, deeply moved by his words and overwhelmed with happiness. Jace seemed to relax too.

The room remained silent for a moment, the weight of Benji’s sincere confession hanging in the air. Your father’s stern expression softened slightly, though his eyes still held a trace of scrutiny. He took a sip of wine, his gaze lingering on Benji with newfound respect.

Rhaenyra, her eyes shining with gratitude, lightly touched her rings. “Thank you, Benjicot,” she said softly. “It means a lot to hear how much you care about my girl.” She leaned in his direction, and he merely nodded, uncertain of what to say.

Harwin nodded, a slight, proud smile breaking through his usually serious demeanor. “It seems you really care about my daughter, and that’s something I respect,” he said, making you raise an eyebrow, realizing it had all been a test.

However, Benji, gave a relieved smirk, licking the inside of his cheek, and gently squeezed your hand. You looked at him, gratitude and love evident in your eyes, and he couldn’t help but notice how your chest rose and fell gently.

“Well then,” Rhaenyra said, breaking the silence. “Let’s enjoy dinner; Joffrey is getting impatient.” She laughed as she noticed the youngest child in the room, who was now mumbling about wanting ice cream.

The atmosphere in the room shifted as your mother’s words eased the tension, and the dinner proceeded in a more relaxed manner. Your father's stern expression softened to contained approval, and Benji, now more at ease, engaged in the conversation. As the evening went on, you leaned slightly towards Benjicot, your smile suggesting a hint of intimacy after the dinner.

It wasn't Benjicot your father had to worry about after all.

〰️ 〰️ 〰️

The rain pounded against the windows, obscuring the outside world. Inside the car, you and Benjicot were locked in a fiery embrace, mouths hungrily exploring each other's. The heat between you intensified as your hands roamed freely, every kiss and touch deepening the passion. 

He didn't know exactly when the making out had started. One moment you were giving him a suggestive smile at the family dinner; the next, your mother had asked you to get ice cream for your younger brother, who was throwing a tantrum. Suddenly, you were pulling him into the back seat of his old car, and ripping off your bra with urgent intensity. But, in any case, he couldn't complain, especially with your hips moving in circular motions on top of him.

He was sure this was one of the best secrets you had, and he made sure to make the most of it.

"Benji," you whispered breathlessly as he trailed kisses down your neck, each touch sending shivers through you. His mouth lingered, teasingly slow, as he moved lower, leaving a trail of hot, insistent pressure. The deliberate pace only heightened your anticipation, making the ache between you more intense as his lips finally reached your hard nipples, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Hmm?" He murmured as he circled his tongue around your nipple, almost letting out a moan himself when he noticed the pressure you were applying with your hips on his already hard cock, and this made him squeeze your ass almost unconsciously but still tightly.

"I need you," you moaned, and he looked up at you with an amused expression, still sucking on your nipple, waiting for you to continue. "Please," you almost begged.

He chuckled softly before pulling your head down to capture your lips again. As you opened your mouth in surprise, he took the opportunity to thrust his tongue inside, turning the kiss into a fervent clash of tongues and teeth.

"Of course, sweetheart," he responded with a hoarse voice. Before you had time to react, he lifted you from his lap and leaned you against the car seat, kneeling in the limited space he had.

Benji looked imposing, kneeling in front of you and completely ignoring the cramped space of his car. He pulled you by the waist with a strange mix of strength and gentleness, just for you, slowly moving your panties aside and making you lean back against the car seat until your pussy was directly in front of his blushing face. He smiled as he watched how eager and wet you were for his attention.

You were already panting, looking directly at Benjicot's face between your legs as his hazel eyes met yours with a mix of anticipation and amusement. His arms wasted no time in holding your thighs, which seemed extremely restless and eager to close with just the brief touch of his breath near your wet entrance, making him whisper a few inaudible and disjointed words before pressing his cheeks against the sensitive part of your thighs and giving your clit a painfully long, slow lick.

As you pulled harder on his hair, he buried his face deeper into your cunt, diving in and eating you out with precision. He was satisfied with the loud moans you let out from the sensation of his flexible muscle inside you, hungry and relentless. You didn't even know when the moans turned into screams.

Benjicot didn't cared about that, though.

Since there was no technique or precision in the way he devoured you, there was only animalistic hunger and fervent passion as his tongue flicked against your sex and his nose rubbed against your clit, leaving you so drunk with pleasure that the next thing that made you squeal was feeling his fingers massaging you while his mouth sucked the spot his nose had just been.

You looked at him as your body started to weaken, and when you noticed the intensity in his eyes, you had to close yours quickly. This only made him grip your legs even tighter, the veins in his arms bulging as your orgasm hit you like a torrent, completely coating his chin.

However, he seemed unwilling to stop.

Benjicot continued with fierce determination, his movements growing even more frenzied as his tongue and now fingers worked together to prolong your pleasure. You were at his mercy, each wave of ecstasy more intense than the last, and he showed no signs of tiring, intent on pushing you to your limits repeatedly.

"Benji," you choked out. "I can't, I can't!" you repeated over and over, your voice trembling with desperation. Your body gave way as the second orgasm of the night crashed over you, leaving you breathless and weak. He finally released you, his grip loosening as you collapsed, exhausted and spent, into the car seat.

He pulled his body away, eyes still burning with desire as he looked at you. You were there, your body shaking and covered in sweat, trying to catch your breath. The car seat was cold against you overheated skin, and the traces of pleasure still hung in the air. Benjicot wiped his chin, a satisfied smile on his lips as he watched you recover from the intense waves of ecstasy.

He looked at you with an intense expression, then, with a playful tone, spoke softly. “You’re so sweet, sweetheart,” he said with a smile as he sat beside you, pulling you against his bare tattooed chest.

You slowly opened your eyes, still trying to steady your breath. “Benji,” you murmured, your body still trembling.

He tilted his head, his touch now tender as you tried to recover. “I mean what I said at dinner. You’re everything to me, and I love you,” he whispered, his usually rough voice softened with affection reserved only for you.

Smiling warmly, you pulled his head down and pressed your lips to his once more. Completely forgetting the real reason you two were in the car.

well anyways — good night!! (shitty smut but yeah)

tag list: @h-0-error @whiteoakoak @spider-stark @rebeccawinters @knight-of-flowerss @weird-things-i-think-about @rhaenys-nyra @haydee5010 0 @hobis-hope95

— English is not my first language, so please be understanding if you saw any grammar mistake!

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

+18

𝓔𝔁 𝓑𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓝𝓗𝓛!𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝓲𝓼…

a ruthless enforcer who’s not afraid to get into a fight. Rafe’s an enigma. He only lets his guard down for a handful of people. To everyone else, he’s intimidating and cold

dressed in athleisure always, unless it is date night or game day. Cozy joggers, sweatshirts, v-neck t-shirts, and backward hats. He takes off his gold rings for games, but he never takes off his signature gold chain.

particular about his hair. He has a modern mullet with a longer fringe. He's always perfectly “undone,” removing his helmet and brushing his sweaty bangs off his pretty, chiseled face.

awful at dealing with his emotions. He has a temper—one that lands him in the penalty box often. It’s always a risk mic’ing him up because the NHL never knows what he’ll say.

an expert shit talker, chirping constantly. He loves getting in his opponent's head in any way, whether verbal or physical.

strong. Between ice time and workout, he's ridiculously cut. Thick forearms, massive biceps, deep abs and v-lines, and muscular thighs. Sometimes, he catches himself being too rough, but you swear you can take it.

so good at texting. He never fails to give you the butterflies when he’s out of town— sending you pics and texts just to let you know he's thinking about you.

a sweet talker. His favorite pet names are Baby, Princess, and Pretty; always laced in that deep southern drawl.

touchy. His hands are always on you: grabbing your hips, wrapping his big arms around you to give you a hug

posessive... He loves telling you you're his and hearing you say it.

an ace at the game. He’s known for being rough and tumble but has good hands and outstanding stats.

really, really good with his hands in more ways than one. His big hands can make you a wet mess in record time.

rich, and he loves spoiling you.

unreal in bed and his stamina is insane.

a sharp dresser. Rafe always shows up on gameday with a new designer suit. His favorite is an all-black Gucci suit.

soft around you. He's still rough around the edges, but he can't stay mad at you for anything, and you'd always get your way even on the little things, so much so that you'd tease him for it, which made him melt because “who the hell else teases him?”

always hurt. Walking around with a busted lip or a shiner.

a playboy - he was a fuckin’ dog before he met you, and those old habits were hard to break

always in his head. You're the one that got away, and he thinks about it often.

protective as hell. He checks on your socials nightly, making sure you’re okay

a jealous fuck. He’ll sabotage anyone who even looks your way without a second thought

thoughtful. He sends you your favorite flowers and that designer purse you had your eye on when you were together, waiting by his phone to see if you’ll give him anything even just a “thank you, Rafe” and he’d be more than satisfied

observant. Especially when it comes to you… He remembers everything: your coffee order, from the drinks the two of you would grab from your favorite cafe before the game. It's a little pregame ritual that he let you be a part of. He remembers your favorite songs, which is also part of his pregame routine. He loved going for a drive, listening to music, and hearing you sing along with your favorite songs, most of which he didn't know and didn't care to know; he just liked hearing your voice. He also remembers the smell of your signature perfume, the sweet elixir stamped into his memory. One of his college sweatshirts you wore the last night you were together is folded up in his drawer, and it still smells like you.

hopeful. He always sets a ticket aside for you just in case he runs into you before the game and you agree to come.

always looking around for you. At your favorite coffee shop before the game or places, he knows you’ll love, hoping to “run into you.”

reckless with his cash. Rafe went on a spending spree since cocaine wasn't an option: cars, watches, jewelry, trips, anything and everything to get his mind off you.

aggressive on the ice. Especially after your breakup, known for playing dirty. Samming bodies against the glass, throwing gloves for next to nothing, breaking sticks to get out his last bits of aggression before crashing down on the bench, burying his head in his gloves, only to go back out on the ice and crash out again.

humbled by his co-captain. He’s the only one who knows how much Rafe was affected by the breakup. He lets him know he needs to figure his shit out because it’s hurting his game and the team.

lonely. He dreads post-game losses because you were his anchor, someone who could ground him— focused more on how he was feeling versus the “game-talk” he gets from everyone else. At first, he hated it, but now he craves it, trying to remember those conversations and the sweet words you said on his drive home

really lonely… He hasn't been with anyone since and doesn't want to which is unheard of for him.

determined to win you back, which means that he’ll have to talk about all the shit he’s feeling, whichnhe knows is for the best. He’s trying to be the man that he knows you deserve.

[boofeine]

kinky things that make seventeen members more aroused during sex

WARNINGS: mdni, smut headcanons, afab reader, cum play, breeding kink, bondage, restraining, overstimulation, role play, edging, pain kink, orgasm dinal, spanking, choking

tags: @huen1ngk4i @aaniag @svteensworld @kooqitas @unlikelysublimekryptonite @yorkutis

seungcheol – cum play and breeding; it has to be raw sex... there's nothing seungcheol loves more than feel your walls pulsating around his cock. the way he can see his hot cum spurr on your ass cheek or on your breast, belly, neck, anywhere really. sometimes, when he feels a little risky, he can't help but ask to cum inside you, the way your cums mixed comes out of your clenching hole when he finally pulls out, he's done but he's ready to get hard again.

jeonghan – having to keep quiet; it's all about the teasing, he loves seeing you suffer to keep it down when it feels so good. your lips caged in your teeth as small whines treats to come out, "is it too much, babe?", he would tease with a devilish smirk, testing all your limits by restraining your high until you can't take it anymore. when you're finally coming undone, he loves to press his palm over your mouth or demand you to bite him to not moan too loud.

joshua – multiple orgasm; like... HEAR ME OUT!! he likes to take his time with you, he's so gentle, with no rush at all. sometimes, it's not even on purpose, but he's edging you so much, that when it finally comes, you cum and cum and cum again. his stamina is crazy and he won't stop until he's satisfied. you squirm and sweat under his workship, "are you tired? i haven't even started with you yet, lay down again for me".

junhui – role play; see, he just gives me those vibes. he'd feel embarrassed at first, but once you fully clock him in, he'd be obsessed. specially, scenarios where you're doming him, he fucking lose his mind... use him, step on him, anything, he's rock hard under your actions. as he grows used to it, he even asks you to get costumized for it, getting really in character, he loves sexy costumes and lacy fantasies.

soonyoung – pain kink; is it new for anyone? hoshi, himself, said he works better under pressure. he loves the spanking and the degradation, he squirms and growls because of you, but it also makes him want to do a better job... if not to make you fully satisfied, he's not doing anything. i see hoshi enjoying face slapping, rough gripping like grabbing his cheeks and jaw while he's on his knees for you, thumb slowly making its way inside his mouth as you laugh at how pathetic he looks for you.

wonwoo – edging; sometimes he's in his mean mode, he normally is sweet and passionate during sex but breaking a sweat to make you beg him to let you cum is one of his favorites. the way you wrap your legs around his hips, rolling yours as you bumble breathy words in between "please", he never cums harder, pinning you down on the mattress to stop you from running, his core pressing over your clit as wonwoo alternates in rough thrusts and slow ones. it makes you almost cry for his mercy.

jihoon – being loud; different from jeonghan, he loves to hear you loud and clear, it bust his ego that he's doing such a good job at delivering pleasure. it could get him off guard at first, too afraid someone would hear, his cheeks flushing, as you scream your moans. but he grows attached to it, it turned into his breaking point every sex, he always pounds harder just to hear you. "is it that good, huh? fuck! let me hear you"

seokmin – overstimulation; especially during oral, he loves the way your legs close on his head when it's too much, how you whine, whimper, and cry out his name. how the grip you have on him always tighten when you say it's too much and that you can't cum anymore. he snugs to your arms, sweetly saying you're a good girl and that he knows you can take it. your pussy swollen and hurt as he whispers "just one more, give it to me" but it's never the last. he loves to treat you well before he gets anything, he gets hard just by pleasing and hearing you.

mingyu – getting tied up; just give this man some handcuffs, put him tied on the bed headboard, i swear he'd cum by just you using him while he's not able to do anything. he likes the frustration, the way he always tries to break free just to touch you as you look at him, tutting and disapproving his not so well behavior. he always cum faster than anything when you use his cock as your fuck toy on your cunt.

minghao – blindfold; he enjoys doing it on you, you always get more out of breath and sensitive when he gets you blindfold. the thrill of it making goosebumps form easily, anticipating every move he might do next. he's obsessed at seeing you so vulnerable, you look nothing but innocent those times. your low moans and whines, he swears you're heaven sent, bumping his length as he touches your body, watching you react shakily, watching you gets him wetter.

seungkwan – rage sex and spanking; not a surprise either... he almost never fights with you, but if there's a good outcome to those fights, it is how frustrated you both get and pull out during the makeup deed. it goes both ways, he likes both, you doming him or him doming you, either way is intense. the choking, the slapping, the way the words turn just a bit bratty and aggressive. he manhandles you like you're born to be his little light doll, changing positions and throwing you around on the bed sheets.

vernon – bringing more people to the game; yes, he's into it. he's up for the threesome always, more than three people, he'd ponder, though. he likes every different aspect of it, just sitting back and watching, or being watched, or mixing positions. it adds to the sex and he's up to it. he's not a jealous guy but normally sets to making the things to you and just receiving for the third person, maybe that's what also arouses him so much, he doesn't gotta do much to cum.

chan – orgasm denial; more precise, being the one receiving it. he enjoys the feeling of his red sensative cockhead burning and dripping pre cum every time you stop him from cumming. the way it hurts just a bit and enough to make him roll his eyes when he finally cums. he won't cum until you say he can and that alone, that hold of power you have on him, makes him tight on his ball. but he's good, he's so well-behaved, you must treat him well.

[urdreamydoodles]

Hi!!!

May I request something a little angsty to sweet?? 😈

An X-men x teen!reader with that one trope where it’s like:

“You’re not my dad/mom!”

“I know that, do you?”

With characters: Scott Summers, Logan Howlett, Storm, Beast, Magneto, and gambit

X-Men x Teen!Reader

You tell them that they are not your dad/mom during an argument

In the heat of the argument, the words slip out—sharp, hurtful. Their faces fall, stunned and wounded, but there’s a quiet pain in your own heart too, because you know the truth. Later, in the stillness, you find yourself beside them, whispering apologies, and they hold you as if to say: family isn’t only blood, it’s chosen.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank McCoy, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff & Wade Wilson

Ooh, you little evil spawn... I love this prompt, and I hope I have reached your expectations <3

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan’s temper is legendary, but he’s always managed to keep it in check around you, knowing you need stability. However, the moment you shout “You’re not my dad!” during a heated argument, he feels a pang of anger and hurt. He’s spent years looking after you, guiding you in his gruff way, and in that second, it stings. Without missing a beat, he snaps back, “I know that, kid. Do you?”

- There’s a cold silence afterward, and Logan storms off, muttering under his breath. He knows he’s not technically your father, but you’re family to him. As he sits alone, drinking and stewing over the argument, he wonders if maybe he’s failed you somehow. He thinks back to the times he’d pulled you out of trouble or taught you some hard-won survival lessons, realizing just how deeply he cares.

- That night, the silence weighs heavy, and you feel a growing sense of regret. Logan has been the one constant in your life, a steady (if rough) presence who’s always had your back. You think about all the times he’s risked himself for you, the moments he’s tried to be there in his quiet, sometimes awkward way. It dawns on you that, without Logan, your life would be far lonelier—and that he truly has become a father figure.

- The next morning, Logan’s in the kitchen, frying eggs and bacon, trying to act like everything’s normal. When you finally muster up the courage to apologize, he doesn’t make it easy. He just grunts, flipping the eggs with a rough edge to his voice, not looking up. But he listens. After you tell him how much he means to you, he lets out a long sigh, and with a gruff but softer voice, he tells you, “Kid, you drive me crazy, but you’re family. You know that?”

- Later, you notice Logan starts going a little easier on you, keeping the snark to a minimum and checking in a bit more often. The bond between you grows even stronger, and while he’ll never be openly affectionate, you sense the quiet pride he has in you. If anyone tries to mess with you, Logan’s first in line to make sure they regret it.

- From then on, whenever you call him “Logan” instead of “Dad,” he just smirks and raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to say what you really feel. In his own way, he’s let you know that titles don’t matter—he’ll always be there, watching your back like only a true family member would.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy isn’t exactly the “strict parent” type, so when you start an argument with him, you’re used to his laid-back attitude. But this time, he gets serious, which shocks you enough to yell, “You’re not my dad!” Remy’s face goes still for a moment, then he raises an eyebrow with his usual calm demeanor, saying softly, “I know, cher. Do you?”

- Remy’s response hangs in the air, and he turns on his heel, leaving you to stew in the aftermath. You’re left alone, staring after him and feeling a pang of guilt. Remy has always treated you like family, his warmth and charm making you feel safe and wanted. You remember the countless times he’s been there for you, offering wisdom and laughter, even when you’ve messed up.

- That night, you can’t shake the look on his face—calm, yes, but with a hint of sadness. Remy’s always seemed so self-assured, but in that moment, it felt like he genuinely wondered if he’d overstepped. You begin to realize just how much he’s done to make you feel like you belong, without ever asking anything in return.

- The next day, you find Remy in the Danger Room, practicing. Nervously, you walk up to him and mumble an apology, explaining that you didn’t mean what you said. He turns to you, an understanding smile softening his gaze. “S’alright, kiddo. I know you got fire in you. Just remember—blood don’t make family.”

- After that, Remy’s even more of a constant presence, always ready to talk, laugh, or lend a hand. He starts making a point to remind you of your strengths, pushing you to see the best in yourself. Whenever he sees you slipping into self-doubt, he’ll casually throw in a story of one of his own mistakes, just to remind you that he’s been there too—and that he’ll always be there for you.

- Over time, you come to see Remy not just as a mentor, but as family, someone who chose to be in your life. He might not have the official title of “dad,” but there’s no question about the bond between you two. Remy’s heart is as big as his charm, and he’s shown you that family is something you build, piece by piece.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt’s patience seems endless, so when you yell, “You’re not my dad!” in the heat of an argument, the words shock you as much as they shock him. He’s silent for a moment, then replies gently, “I know, but are you sure?” He’s hurt but gives you a sad, understanding look before stepping away, giving you space to cool off.

- Afterward, the guilt eats away at you. Kurt has been nothing but kind and supportive, teaching you about acceptance and resilience, even when things are tough. His faith and positivity have been a guiding light in your life, and the thought of hurting him like this twists at your heart.

- You remember moments when he went out of his way to include you, especially when you felt like an outsider among mutants. Kurt has always been there, understanding what it’s like to be different and offering comfort when you needed it most. It hits you that, despite not being your biological father, he’s filled that role with all the love and patience he has.

- The next day, you find Kurt alone in the library, reading. You approach him, nervous but sincere, and apologize for what you said. He listens quietly, and when you’re done, he gives you a warm smile, saying, “It’s alright, mein freund. I will always be here, no matter what.” His forgiveness is immediate, his kindness knowing no limits.

- After that, Kurt becomes even more of a confidant, someone you know you can turn to for wisdom and understanding. He makes a point of reminding you that love is a choice, and he’s chosen you as family. Whenever you’re down, he’ll tell you stories of his own struggles, showing you that strength comes from within, even when life gets hard.

- The bond between you two only deepens, and Kurt’s gentle presence is something you come to cherish. He may not be your dad by blood, but he’s family through and through. Kurt’s unwavering faith in you becomes a source of comfort, a reminder that you’re never truly alone as long as he’s around.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott is used to being responsible and disciplined, so when you snap, “You’re not my dad!” during a heated disagreement, he doesn’t take it lightly. He stands there, tense and quiet, then responds, “I know. But do you?” before walking away, clearly hurt but too proud to let it show.

- That night, you can’t stop replaying the argument in your head. Scott may be strict, but he’s always had your best interests at heart. He’s spent countless hours training and guiding you, doing everything in his power to prepare you for the dangers of the world. As you think back, you start to feel the weight of what you said, realizing how much you’ve taken him for granted.

- You begin to understand that, in his own quiet way, Scott has been a father figure to you, even if he doesn’t say it outright. Every stern lecture, every training session—it was his way of protecting you, showing he cared. The guilt eats at you, and you know you need to make things right.

- The next morning, you approach him in the War Room, nervous but determined. You tell him how much his guidance means to you, how you didn’t mean what you said. Scott listens carefully, his expression softening as he nods. “We’re a team, and that means we’re family,” he says firmly. “I’m here for you, always.”

- From then on, Scott’s support becomes even more evident. He may not be the most openly affectionate, but he makes it clear that he’s in your corner, no matter what. He starts opening up to you more, sharing his own struggles with responsibility, letting you see the weight he carries as a leader and mentor.

- Over time, you come to appreciate Scott’s steady presence, realizing how lucky you are to have him as a father figure. He may be tough, but his loyalty is unwavering, and he’ll always have your back. In Scott, you find a kind of steadfast strength that reminds you every day that family isn’t defined by blood—it’s built on respect, care, and unwavering support.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean’s kindness is boundless, so when you shout, “You’re not my mom!” during an argument, her expression drops, a mix of shock and sadness. She takes a deep breath, her voice calm but strained, and says, “I know, but I care about you just the same. Do you know that?” With that, she steps back, giving you space to cool down, but the sadness in her eyes lingers.

- In the quiet that follows, you feel a pang of regret. Jean has always been there for you, her gentle support unwavering, guiding you with both warmth and patience. You remember the countless times she’s been there to comfort you, a soothing presence who never hesitated to make you feel loved. The memory of her expression, the way her shoulders slumped, makes you feel worse.

- That night, you find yourself replaying the argument over and over. You begin to realize how much Jean’s presence has shaped your life, that she’s been more than just a mentor or friend—she’s been like a mother, even if neither of you ever said it out loud. Each memory fills you with gratitude and a growing need to make things right.

- The next day, you find Jean in the garden, tending to the flowers with her usual care. Tentatively, you approach her, stumbling over an apology. She listens, her eyes soft as she pulls you into a gentle embrace. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “I know these things aren’t easy. I’m here for you, no matter what.” Her forgiveness is instant, her hug comforting, as if she understands all you can’t say.

- After that, Jean becomes even more of a mother figure, offering a patient ear and a shoulder to lean on whenever you need. Her kindness is a quiet strength that you come to lean on more and more. You notice she checks in on you more often, making sure you know she’s there, even when words don’t need to be said.

- Over time, you come to cherish her presence even more, recognizing her as your found family. With Jean, you feel safe, loved, and valued, and her quiet guidance reminds you every day that family doesn’t have to be by blood. It’s in the love you choose to share, and Jean’s love is as steady as the rising sun.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Ororo’s calm strength is like a force of nature, but when you yell, “You’re not my mom!” it’s as if a storm has passed through her eyes. She doesn’t lash out, doesn’t even raise her voice, but she looks at you with a steady gaze and says, “I know that, little one. Do you?” Her words are gentle but piercing, and she leaves you to ponder them.

- That night, as the weight of your words sinks in, guilt gnaws at you. Ororo has always treated you with kindness and respect, guiding you through life’s challenges with wisdom and care. She’s been your rock, the person who’s grounded you, and you feel ashamed for taking her love and protection for granted.

- You think back to all the moments Ororo has been there for you: teaching you about the world, sharing her culture, and encouraging you to be true to yourself. You realize that she’s been more than a mentor—she’s been family. Her quiet strength and unwavering love have been like the rain, nourishing you and helping you grow.

- The next day, you find Ororo on the rooftop, gazing at the horizon. Gathering your courage, you apologize, explaining how much she means to you. She listens, her gaze as steady and calm as ever, before she gently places a hand on your shoulder. “I forgive you,” she says with a small smile. “Family isn’t always about blood. It’s about the bonds we choose.” Her words bring you a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed.

- After that, Ororo takes on an even more motherly role, gently guiding you and always offering wisdom when you need it most. You start spending more time together, finding solace in her presence and strength in her words. She reminds you of your own resilience, always making you feel capable and valued.

- Ororo’s love becomes a source of strength, and you come to see her as family in the truest sense. Her support is unwavering, her guidance is steady, and with her, you find the sense of belonging and family you never realized you craved. She’s a mother figure, not by title but by choice, and her love fills a space in your heart you hadn’t known was empty.

Charles Xavier aka. Professor X

- Charles rarely shows disappointment, but when you yell, “You’re not my dad!” during an argument, there’s a flash of hurt in his eyes. He looks at you thoughtfully, his calm, composed demeanor intact, and simply says, “I know that, but are you sure?” before quietly excusing himself. His voice is soft, but the weight of his words lingers.

- As the reality of your words hits you, a wave of guilt follows. Charles has dedicated himself to making you feel safe, offering guidance, structure, and endless patience. He’s been more than just a mentor—he’s been a father figure, the one who’s always there to listen and guide you without judgment.

- You begin to reflect on all the small gestures he’s made to show he cares, from teaching you with kindness to offering you advice when life felt overwhelming. Charles has seen potential in you from the start, treating you with respect and compassion, and the thought of hurting him leaves a knot in your chest.

- The next day, you approach his study, nervous but determined to apologize. Charles listens, his usual calm presence enveloping you in a sense of safety. He smiles gently, nodding as you express your regrets, and simply says, “I understand, and I forgive you.” His forgiveness feels like a weight lifted, and he reminds you that love and family are choices, not just obligations.

- After that, you feel even closer to Charles, and he continues to be your steadfast supporter. He encourages you to pursue your strengths, guiding you with wisdom and patience, and you start to see him as a father figure you can truly depend on. His calm understanding becomes a source of comfort, a reminder that family can be chosen and built on mutual respect.

- Charles’s influence becomes a grounding force in your life, his guidance always there to lift you up. With him, you find a sense of belonging and love that goes beyond mere words. He may not be your biological father, but he’s family in every way that matters, and his unwavering belief in you becomes a constant source of strength.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik is not known for his patience, so when you yell, “You’re not my dad!” it’s like a slap to the face. His eyes harden, his voice cold as he responds, “I know, but perhaps you don’t.” With that, he turns away, his pride wounded but his expression betraying a flicker of sadness. For Erik, family is sacred, and your words cut deep.

- That night, guilt starts to creep in. Erik has been harsh, yes, but he’s always shown you the value of strength, resilience, and conviction. He’s taught you to be bold, to stand up for yourself, and though his methods are tough, he’s been there for you in ways that no one else has. You begin to realize how much you owe to his guidance.

- Memories flood back of times when Erik’s fierce loyalty protected you, his dedication ensuring you never felt alone. He’s been like a father to you, albeit a strict one, and as the guilt weighs on you, you see that his rough edges have been his way of showing love, even if he doesn’t say it outright.

- The next day, you approach him with an apology, your voice shaky but sincere. Erik listens, his piercing gaze softened by something like understanding. He accepts your apology, and in his own stern way, he reminds you that strength is born of struggle. His words are harsh, but his forgiveness is there, hidden beneath his rough demeanor.

- From that moment on, Erik’s presence becomes even more of a steady force in your life. He challenges you to be your best, pushing you to embrace your potential, and though he rarely shows open affection, his actions speak louder than words. He’ll protect you fiercely, his bond with you deepening as he takes on the role of a mentor and protector.

- Erik’s influence makes you feel strong and capable, and while he’s a difficult figure to love, you know that he’s chosen you as family. His pride and determination inspire you to believe in yourself, and even if he’ll never say it directly, his loyalty is proof that you’re family to him, forged through fire and unbreakable.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank is rarely one to raise his voice, but when you blurt out, “You’re not my dad!” in the heat of an argument, he freezes. For a moment, he’s quiet, his face clouded with hurt before he gives you a calm but serious look. “I’m aware of that. But I’ve always tried to be here for you, haven’t I?” His voice is gentle, yet his words sting in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Without another word, he leaves, giving you the space you both clearly need.

- As you cool down from the argument, guilt quickly sets in. Hank has been nothing but patient and caring, always offering you understanding and support when you needed it most. His gentle presence has been a source of comfort, and the memory of the sadness in his eyes makes you realize how deeply you’ve hurt him.

- Reflecting on all the times Hank has been there for you, you remember how he would stay up late to help you with your studies, his voice soft and encouraging as he shared his vast knowledge. His kindness was never forced; he genuinely cared, and you start to see that he’s been like a father figure all along, even if neither of you ever put a name to it.

- The next day, you find Hank in the lab, engrossed in his work as usual. Hesitantly, you apologize, struggling to find the right words. Hank stops what he’s doing, looking at you with that familiar, gentle expression. “I appreciate your apology,” he says, his tone warm and forgiving. He doesn’t need to say much to make you feel better; his soft smile is enough to lift the weight from your shoulders.

- After that, Hank is still there for you, but the bond between you feels stronger. He seems to make an effort to check in on you more often, even gently guiding you through life’s challenges with his usual wisdom and warmth. You realize how much you’ve come to rely on him as a steady presence in your life.

- Hank’s compassion and patience become pillars of support as you grow, and he becomes more than just a mentor—he’s family. His encouragement and gentle guidance make you feel valued, and you start to understand that family isn’t just about blood; it’s about those who choose to stand by you, even when things get tough. With Hank, you’ve found a father figure in the truest sense.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- When you yell, “You’re not my mom!” in a heated moment, Wanda’s eyes flash with pain. She takes a deep breath, her voice steady but laced with hurt as she responds, “I know I’m not. But I’ve always tried to be there for you, haven’t I?” Her voice is soft, a mix of sadness and disappointment that lingers in the air as she turns away, giving you the space you clearly need.

- Guilt settles over you like a weight as you recall everything Wanda has done for you. She’s been a constant source of love and protection, going out of her way to create a safe space for you in a chaotic world. Her kindness has been unwavering, and the memory of her hurt expression leaves you feeling remorseful.

- You begin to remember all the times Wanda has comforted you, her gentle presence like a soothing balm when the world felt overwhelming. She’s always known what to say, her intuition guiding her as she wrapped you in warmth and reassurance. You realize how much her presence means to you, that she’s been a mother figure even if you never said it.

- The next day, you approach Wanda, the words of an apology on your lips. She listens, her eyes softening as you explain how sorry you are. She pulls you into a gentle hug, murmuring, “It’s okay. I understand.” Her forgiveness is immediate, her embrace warm and reassuring, and you feel the weight of your guilt lift as you lean into her.

- After that, Wanda continues to be there for you, her love as constant and unwavering as ever. She’s more protective, always ensuring you know you’re loved and valued. Her presence feels like home, a reminder that family is more than just titles; it’s the bond you share and the love that endures even through difficult moments.

- Over time, Wanda becomes even more of a mother figure, her guidance and love anchoring you as you grow. With her, you find a sense of belonging, a family built on mutual care and understanding. Wanda’s love becomes a source of strength, and you come to see her as family in the truest sense.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

- Pietro has always been quick to defend you, so when you shout, “You’re not my dad!” during an argument, his face falls, his usual bravado replaced by a flicker of hurt. He hesitates, then responds with a hint of vulnerability, “I know I’m not. But I care about you, and that’s not going to change.” He doesn’t say much more, leaving with a hint of frustration and sadness.

- Your heart aches almost immediately after the words leave your mouth. Pietro has always been a constant in your life, fiercely protective and ready to do anything to keep you safe. His loyalty has been unwavering, and the memory of his hurt expression weighs on you, leaving you feeling guilty.

- As the regret settles in, you begin to think back to all the moments Pietro has been there for you, his fast-paced life slowing down whenever you needed him. His protectiveness might come off as overbearing, but it’s always been rooted in love. You realize how much you mean to him, that he’s been like a father figure, even if neither of you put it into words.

- The next day, you find him in the training room, going through a series of drills. Nervously, you approach him with an apology. Pietro pauses, listening intently, and his usual cocky grin returns as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, saying, “Don’t worry, kid. Family fights sometimes.” His words are light, but there’s a warmth in his tone that makes you feel forgiven.

- From then on, Pietro is still as protective as ever, though he seems to make an extra effort to remind you that he’s there for you. He includes you in his adventures, always finding ways to bring laughter and excitement into your life. His loyalty is fierce, and you find comfort in the way he’s chosen to stand by you.

- Pietro’s support becomes a source of strength, and over time, you come to see him as family. He’s there for you in ways that matter, his love loud and unfiltered. With him, you’ve found a father figure who’s more than willing to face the world at your side, his loyalty a constant reminder that family is chosen as much as it is given.

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- Wade’s never been the most conventional parental figure, but when you snap, “You’re not my dad!” he goes silent. It’s rare to see him at a loss for words, but the hurt that flickers across his face is hard to miss. After a pause, he says, “Hey, I know that, but... I kinda thought we had something here, y’know?” He tries to play it off, but the sadness in his voice lingers as he gives you space.

- Almost immediately, regret starts to settle in. Wade has been your protector, your friend, and even if he’s unconventional, he’s always made sure you’re safe. He’s taught you to laugh, to find humor even in dark situations, and the thought of hurting him leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

- You think back to all the times Wade has made you feel cared for, his offbeat sense of humor a constant source of comfort. He’s been like a father in his own chaotic way, always finding unique ways to show he cares. The memory of his hurt expression haunts you, and you feel a strong need to make things right.

- Finding Wade isn’t hard; he’s at the usual hangout, cracking jokes to mask whatever he’s feeling. You approach him, offering an apology, and he listens, his face breaking into a goofy grin. “Oh, kid, you can’t get rid of me that easy!” he teases, pulling you into a bear hug that’s both ridiculous and comforting.

- After that, Wade goes back to being his usual chaotic self, but he’s even more protective, throwing around jokes about being your “self-appointed, totally unofficial, slightly psychotic dad.” His antics make you laugh, and you come to appreciate his unique way of showing love, realizing he’s been there for you all along.

- Wade’s love may be unorthodox, but it’s real, and over time, you come to see him as family. He’s the loud, unpredictable presence you didn’t know you needed, his humor and loyalty bringing you a sense of belonging. With Wade, you’ve found a father figure who’ll stand by you, his love chaotic and unconditional in every way that matters.

[dissapointu]

u have beautiful writing and it’s honestly a talent! you’re so quick with it like hello? may u please do how arcane characters would react to having a partner who likes making handmade gifts instead of buying them? me personally i LOVE making handmade gifts because it seems more beautiful putting in work for my friends and family! honestly you’re my favorite writer on this app I’ll most definitely think about makin u a handmade gift! you’re so cool!

FIRST OFF??? YOU are the coolest person EVER and reading your message made me do a little happy dance in my chair, so thank you for THAT! 🥹 The fact that you’re out here pouring love into handmade gifts for your friends and family?? ICONIC. Handmade gifts are SO slept on, and you’re out here proving they’re the superior love language. If I could, I’d be your hype squad 24/7. (Also, i would ugly cry if you made me a gift Mamas.)

Okay, okay, let’s jump into how the Arcane characters would react to having a partner who loves making handmade gifts because spoiler: they’re all gonna be absolutely obsessed with you. Let’s GO.

———————————————————————-

Jinx

Jinx would LOSE HER MIND every single time you gave her a gift. She’s such a sucker for anything you pour your heart into.

• “Wait, wait—YOU made this? For ME?” She’s staring at it with huge eyes like you just handed her a treasure map.

• She’d keep EVERYTHING you give her, no matter what it is. You could hand her a crocheted pigeon and she’d be like, “This is the best thing anyone’s ever given me.”

• She’d totally try to make something for you in return, but it’d be chaotic as hell. Like, you’d get a DIY flamethrower or something held together with duct tape and glitter.

Basically, she’s your number one fan and would brag about you constantly.

Vi

Vi is playing it cool, but deep down, she’s melting into a puddle of feelings. She’d get all quiet when you give her something and just kinda… stare at it like she can’t believe someone would put in that much effort for her.

• If you made her something wearable, like a bracelet or beanie? That thing is NEVER coming off.

• She’s not much for words, but she’d pull you into a tight hug and just whisper, “Thanks. I mean it.”

• Also, if anyone dares to make fun of your gifts, she’s throwing hands. (“What’d you say about my partner’s hand-painted mug? Yeah, that’s what I thought.”)

Sevika

Sevika would be SO caught off guard when you hand her a gift. She’s not used to people doing thoughtful stuff for her, so she’s just… staring at you, holding your gift like it’s a foreign object.

• If it’s something practical, like a leather pouch or gloves? She’s putting them to use immediately. And trust, she’ll let everyone know her partner made them.

• If it’s something sentimental? She’s keeping it tucked away somewhere safe, but you’ll catch her looking at it when she thinks you’re not watching.

She’s a little rough around the edges, but trust me, she cherishes EVERY handmade thing you give her.

Silco

Silco would be SO intrigued by the concept of handmade gifts. Like, he’s trying to figure out why you’d put in so much effort instead of just buying something. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes it’s because you care about him. And yeah, that hits him right in his cold, scheming heart.

• Something elegant or functional, like a pen case or a decorative box? He’s putting it on his desk like it belongs in a museum.

• Something more emotional, like a portrait of him and Jinx? He’ll treasure it forever but keep it private—it’s too precious for the world to see.

You’ve officially cracked the Silco Code: thoughtful effort = instant softie.

Vander

Vander is 100% DAD MODE ACTIVATED every time you give him something. He’s smiling so big it hurts, just standing there like, “You made this? For me?”

• If it’s something for the bar, like a new sign or decoration? He’s putting it up immediately and making everyone compliment it.

• More personal gifts, like a knitted scarf? He’s rocking it every single day, even if it’s summer.

• He’d also love hearing about your process, sitting there with his tea like, “Tell me about this one. What inspired you?” Big golden retriever vibes, honestly.

Ekko

Ekko would be OBSESSED with your gifts. Like, you’ve unlocked a whole new love language for him.

• If you made him something for the Firelights, like a custom mask or patch? He’s adding it to his gear immediately. “Look at this! My partner made it. Isn’t it sick?”

• If it’s something sentimental, he’d carry it around like a good luck charm. It could be the tiniest trinket, and he’d be like, “This? This is everything.”

• He’d also 100% try to make something for you in return. Now you’ve got matching handmade energy, and everyone is jealous of your vibes.

Jayce

Jayce would be SO touched by your gifts. This man is a golden retriever in human form, so every time you give him something, he’s beaming like you just made his whole week.

• If it’s something for his lab, like a personalized toolbox? He’s showing it off to Viktor like, “Look what my partner made. Aren’t they amazing?”

• Something sentimental, like a framed photo or painting? He’s hanging it in his house and telling EVERYONE about it.

Jayce is basically your personal hype squad, and he’s never gonna stop appreciating your creativity.

Viktor

Viktor would be SO soft about your gifts. Like, he’s not used to people going out of their way for him, so when you hand him something, he’s just sitting there like, “You made this? For me?”

• If it’s something practical, like a custom notebook for his designs, he’s using it every day and thinking of you while he works.

• Sentimental gifts, like a sketch or keepsake? He’s keeping them close, tucked away in a spot where he can see them when he needs a boost.

You’d inspire him to start tinkering on something special just for you. Now you’ve got your own Viktor Original™.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would be SO charmed by your gifts. She’s used to fancy, expensive things, but the effort and love you put into your handmade stuff? That’s what gets her.

• Make her something practical, like gloves or a scarf? She’s wearing them CONSTANTLY and bragging to everyone.

• If it’s more sentimental, like a personal letter or drawing? She’s keeping it somewhere safe and rereading it when she misses you.

Caitlyn loves thoughtful gestures, so you’re basically her dream partner. Period.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be absolutely enchanted by your gifts. She’s surrounded by luxury, but your handmade work feels so much more personal.

• Something elegant, like jewelry or an intricate painting? She’s showing it off at council meetings like it’s priceless.

• Something heartfelt? She’s keeping it in her private quarters where she can admire it when she’s alone.

Mel would also encourage you to turn your craft into a business because she believes in your talent 100%.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would be IMPRESSED. She’s a practical person, so if you make her something functional, like a knife sheath or leather gear, she’s putting it to use immediately.

• If it’s sentimental, she’d keep it hidden, but trust—it means a lot to her.

She’d respect your dedication and probably compare you to a warrior. “It takes discipline to create something with your own hands.”

Heimerdinger

Heimerdinger would be THRILLED. He LOVES creativity, and your handmade gifts would light up his world.

• If you made him something clever or whimsical, he’s showing it off to everyone in Piltover. “Look what my partner made! Aren’t they brilliant?”

• Sentimental stuff? He’s putting it in his workshop where he can admire it while he tinkers.

He’d also want to collaborate on a project with you because you’re basically his new favorite inventor.

Salo

Okay, Salo would be one of those people who doesn’t know how to react at first, but you’d totally catch him staring at your gift later, all soft and thoughtful.

• If you made him something like a carved figurine or a small keepsake, he’d keep it in his pocket for good luck and touch it when he’s thinking about you.

• He wouldn’t be super showy about it, but you’d KNOW it meant a lot to him when he said something lowkey like, “You didn’t have to, but… thanks. This is nice.”

• Deep down, he’d be so touched that you took the time to make something just for him. Handmade gifts just hit different for someone like Salo, who appreciates quiet, meaningful gestures.

Scar

Scar is giving CHAOTIC, “OMG YOU MADE THIS??” energy every single time. Like, no matter what it is, he’s holding it up like you just gifted him the crown jewels.

• If you made him something goofy, like a silly little knitted hat or a bracelet, he’s rocking it IMMEDIATELY. “Look at this! My partner made it! Aren’t they the best?”

• He’d totally try to “help” you make stuff sometimes, but he’d just end up making a mess and laughing about it the whole time.

• Scar is your ultimate hype man, always gassing you up and telling everyone how talented you are. You could hand him a macaroni necklace, and he’d be like, “Masterpiece. Absolute masterpiece.”

Maddie Nolen

Maddie is secretly the softest bean about your handmade gifts. Like, she’d be a little shy at first when you gave her something, but you’d catch her smiling at it later when she thought you weren’t looking.

• If you made her something practical, like a cozy scarf or a cute notebook, she’d use it all the time and feel so warm and fuzzy knowing it came from you.

• Sentimental gifts? She’s absolutely treasuring them forever. She’d keep them somewhere special, like her desk or bedside table, and glance at them whenever she’s missing you.

• Maddie would totally ask about your process too, like, “How did you even come up with this? It’s amazing.” She’s so supportive, and your gifts would mean the world to her.

Lest

Lest would be absolutely ENCHANTED by your handmade gifts. Like, she’d hold them so gently, as if she’s afraid of breaking something so precious.

• If you made her something elegant or delicate, like a hand-painted vase or a piece of embroidery, she’d treat it like it’s the most valuable thing she owns.

• Lest would also love the thought and care behind your gifts. She’s the type to listen closely when you explain how you made something, nodding along with genuine interest.

• You’d totally catch her showing off your gifts to her friends, like, “My partner made this. Isn’t it beautiful?” She’d treasure everything you give her, no matter how big or small.

And that’s it! TL;DR: YOU are a gift, and every Arcane character would feel insanely lucky to have someone as thoughtful and creative as you. Keep being amazing, bestie. 💜

[kaisaerinlover]

michael kaiser

tw: mentions of domestic abuse, and he hurts her a little bit at the end with a pinch

michael kaiser is rough around the edges, rough all over actually. well, not quite. even the most violent of people have their softest most tender spots. he is no exception to the rule. kaiser is so dark, so disturbed, so ruined from everything. he’s really just the product of every bad thing to ever occur in his life. maybe that’s why there’s something so sweet inside of him too, just a fraction of sugar amongst all of the bitter tar. a gram of your sugar. the kindness you gave him. kaiser can be gentle when he wants to be, when you ease it out of him.

that’s why you’re brushing his hair so nicely, you almost look like a normal couple. standing behind your boyfriend, brushing out his golden hair, goldielocks kaiser. you could laugh at that thought. he looks so sweet like this. so sweet when he has his guard all the way down for once. it’s a deity for him to be so relaxed, so you should relish in it the few occasions it happens. the poor man never seems to let his mind rest, never seems to trust anyone totally, never seems to be able to just be human. with you it’s different though, it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, the opposite actually. why wouldn’t he trust you? you stay with him through everything he puts you through. he trusts you the most in the world, actually. you could ruin him, ruin his life at any moment. what would the public think of his less than savoury relationship with you? what would everyone say when they found out how he treats you? about you at all, even? he knows you won’t do anything bad to him. that’s how much he trusts you. maybe it’s not even trust. just confidence. just unbridled pure knowing. you could call it love, but with kaiser, it’s hard to be sure.

you’re special, is what he’s trying to say, what he’d be trying to say if any of this was going on out loud. but no. you’re brushing his hair so delicately, like if you’re too rough he’ll disintegrate, and he could almost fall asleep. it’s the opposite though, the most breakable one is you, and in more ways than not you’re already broken beyond repair, thanks to kaiser’s words, kaiser’s fists, kaiser kaiser kaiser. it’s a shame he doesn’t really grant such treatment to you. but he likes broken toys anyway, they feel better, more familiar; like home. but you were broken from the beginning anyway, in ways only he could understand.

he pulls away eventually from your hands. you flinch instinctively as he stands up from the chair in front of his vanity and turns around to face you. it’s scary, naturally, he’s a vigorous man. he’s so merciless to you sometimes that you struggle to even comprehend why he’s with you and why you’re so lucky to have someone like him. you flinched over an impact that was never going to come, no fist to the face, no slap, no shouting, no choking. just a slightly bent over michael kaiser. your 186cm lover face level with you, giving you a genuine smile. none of the cruel smiles he gives to you usually. just a soft smile on his face. he looks so pretty like this. he’s so cute. you really can see the kid in him. he’s so innocent looking when he wants to be. or does he want to be innocent looking? either way, he’s so cute to you.

it’s strange seeing such a thing etched onto his features, his perfect model-like features. fuck, you’re so lucky aren’t you? you’re so fucking lucky to have him, even if he treats you so bad. why the fuck hasn’t he left you yet? he’s so beautiful. seriously, he doesn’t even look human. he’s like a fucking angel. staring into your dull eyes with his deep blue ones. they’re piercing you. even his eyes upstage yours. it’s hard to not be insecure over michael kaiser, because he truly is a spectacle. it’s okay though, he doesn’t think you’re human either. you’re a sweet angel princess. you’re as pure as a little bunny enjoying its first snow. and you’re also as cute as a button. he doesn’t verbalise those things too often though; he has a lot of untended to rage inside.

his tattooed hand is holding your considerably smaller one as he looks into your eyes so deeply, so lovingly. it’s really like something from a movie, a romance novel written by a teenage girl back in the day, a girl who just finished twilight, or the titanic. some cliché love story. so savour the moment while it lasts, because you and him are both not lacking the self awareness it takes to realise it won’t last for long. you smile back ever so sweetly. god you’re sweet. like sugar, or something of that sort. so fucking endearing. too cute, kaiser thinks. “little angel” he praises, and you giggle. your giggle is the most beautiful of melodies to him. it’s also rare, because he sure as hell doesn’t make you giggle often. more like cry. and sob. and everything of that sort, he won’t let his brain dwell on the synonyms for too long, then he might just have to think about the weight of his actions (and nobody wants to do that.) but hey, he’s just as fond of those sounds too, maybe in a different way.

he leans in and kisses your cheek in a way only a prince could kiss the princess he just saved from turmoil. it’s like you’re just kids again, fooling around and seeing what it’s like to have some loving contact from another person. like you’re both still too shy to go that extra mile. it’s so pure. so white. yeah, if you were a colour, you’d be white. milk white. it’s ironic because kaiser actually hates milk, you love it though. there’s something so deeply poetic about that, kaiser thinks. but he chooses, again, to not dwell on it; he hates thinking about these things too much. sometimes he does though, sometimes he’s so angry at himself for treating you the way he does. he fucking hates himself sometimes. he punishes himself as harshly as he does you sometimes. because he doesn’t really want to be this way, but then again, he likes it.

he’s leans in again and pecks your lips, and you giggle again. you’re like a giddy little girl. he picks you up like you weigh nothing, maybe you don’t, maybe you’re light because you’re not even human, just a cute pile of sugary sweetness, or a cupcake. he slams you onto your shared bed, the first rough act of the night. ouch. it kind of hurt, your back definitely felt that impact. usually you would be scared, heck, 5 minutes ago you were scared, flinching at him merely standing up. but right now is different. you don’t care at all. you’re so excited, so drunk on your’s and kaiser’s love. don’t focus on the bad, just focus on the good.

man, it’s so difficult for kaiser to not just ravage you here. you look so fucking cute. so untainted, somehow, even though you very much are. maybe that candy sugaryness of yours is keeping you untainted after everything. you’re so sweet you could seriously turn someone diabetic, he thinks. he almost laughs at that thought. his smile is still genuine as he nips at your neck, the skin marked by his hands last night. he remembers it too well, but shakes off the thought. he’s licking and biting so lightly, gently claiming you as his for the 1000th time. there’s really no need anymore, but you both enjoy it anyway. “so cute” he mumbles into your neck. “wie eine kleine prinzessin” you giggle some more. “really? you mean it?” you wonder. does he? ‘cause sometimes he’s seriously treating you in the complete opposite way. “of course, my princess. my dolly to do what i want to” he smirks back into your neck. that makes sense, of course, you’re his. you’re still his princess, he’s just a little different to those fairytale princes you (secretly and ashamedly) sometimes wish you had instead of him.

kisses in bed with kaiser always escalate into something more, even if he’s in a good mood, you guess. but you want it so bad this time. he’s so gentle right now. lightly fucking you. can you even call it fucking? it’s like, seriously, making love. kissing you, holding your hand and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he thrusts himself inside of you, albeit so slowly. he’s usually rough, extremely rough, the bruises alongside your thighs and hips are proof of it. you’re marked all over by kaiser’s barbarity, but now he’s being so nice. it feels so good too, getting fucked in such a way. it’s like you’re a virgin again, having your very first time. this is how your first with kaiser should have gone. but we all know it didn’t go that way, because why would it? it’s michael fucking kaiser. “l-love you- s’ much- mi-“ he shushes you with a kiss before you can even finish your declaration of love. “sh, don’t say stupid things like that. i love you so fucking much my sweet fucking babygirl” is he insecure? why is your love stupid? he’s still fucking you, it’s difficult to articulate yourself clearly; “b-but- hnghh- i do love yo-u- and it’s- it’s- is not stupid-“ you manage to sputter out between his thrusts. he laughs and kisses you sweetly “you shouldn’t love me, but you do, you’re crazy, schatz” he laughs again and mumbles “so fucking crazy, mine” he thrusts one more time “all for me”

feeling kaiser finish inside of you after he just fucked you like you’re the most special princess in town is liberating, so good. to say the very least. he’s still ontop of you looking at you like you’re the most valuable gem in the museum; he’s smiling too, still with that genuine smile. making love feels so good, it really does. being pampered in such a way is so good. he’s so good at it. it’s a shame he’s so brutal most of the days. he thinks the same. he’s eyeing you up and down, pinned underneath him on his white lacy bedsheets, the ones you picked that day at the store. he feels crazy powerful, examining every mark he gave you that’s still present. he sees a particularly nasty bruise on your stomach, one from a few days ago, and runs his hand over it so gently. he pinches it, squeezes it tightly, and laughs a bit. “fuck, you’re so helpless, aren’t you?” he chastises you as he prods and pinches your injury.

his change in behaviour was sudden, yet not dramatic. he’s still being relatively nice, actually. you bite your lip to keep those pretty diamond tears from spilling over your rosy cheeks and nod obediently. “yes, yes ‘m h-helpless” fuck it hurts. he’s still laughing at you, his blonde locks, the ones you brushed so gently earlier falling on your face, dampened by the tears that you just couldn’t stop from falling. those aren’t just from pain, you’re mourning the sweet kaiser you just lost. it’s almost taunting, his blonde hair somewhat drying your tears. the hair you treat with such care, the man you treat with such care, and still will. he’s still laughing “i like that, and you do too, don’t you little thing?” he’s not expecting an answer, and you’re not going to give one, it’s pointless to; you already know the answer and he does too. you both like it. you both love it, even, because even though he’s more evil than you by a long-shot, you’re still both as sick as each other.

the german said : what a little princess or something like that, idrk how to directly translate it into english but yeah it’s something along those lines, enjoy <3

[wolvietxt]

𝓭ay 𝓯ourteen.

daryl dixon and mixed signals.

you’d gotten used to daryl’s rough edges over time. there was a certain comfort in knowing what to expect, even if that often meant dealing with his gruffness. but lately, he’d been different - quieter, more distant. whenever you saw him, there was hardly more than a grunt of acknowledgment before he’d be off somewhere else, hunting or keeping watch. it felt like something had shifted, and you weren’t sure why.

you kept your distance, figuring if he needed space, you’d give it to him. after all, everyone was dealing with their own struggles at the prison. you kept yourself busy, helping with the chores and making yourself useful wherever you could. but when you noticed how little he seemed to care whether you were around or not, it started to hurt more than you wanted to admit.

days turned into a week, and by then, you could barely remember the last time you’d had a real conversation with him. he was always somewhere else, either physically or mentally. you found yourself hesitating to approach him, not wanting to deal with another one of his curt replies. you told yourself it was just how he was - he’d always been a bit standoffish - but it was hard not to take it personally when he seemed to be avoiding you entirely.

one afternoon, you caught sight of him by the gates, checking the perimeter. the sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the yard. taking a deep breath, you decided to approach. maybe you’d been reading too much into things, and if you just talked to him, you’d realise it was all in your head.

“hey,” you called out, walking up beside him. “haven’t seen much of you lately.”

daryl didn’t look at you. his eyes stayed on the treeline, his expression as unreadable as ever. “been busy,” he muttered.

“yeah, i figured,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. “but, y’know, we could still talk every now and then. just because we’re all busy doesn’t mean we have to shut each other out.”

“i ain’t shuttin’ anyone out,” he said, his voice a little sharper than you expected. “got things to do. don’t need to be chit-chattin’ all the time.”

you took a step back, surprised by the edge in his tone. “i wasn’t saying that. just... thought maybe we were friends.”

that got his attention. his gaze flicked over to you, brows drawn together in a frown. “we are,” he said, like the word was unfamiliar on his tongue. “just ‘cause i ain’t around doesn’t mean i ain’t still... y’know, here.”

“could’ve fooled me,” you shot back before you could stop yourself. “you’ve barely said two words to me in days.”

he turned fully to face you then, his expression hardening. “been dealin’ with stuff,” he said. “you ain’t the only one who’s got things goin’ on.”

“i never said i was,” you replied, your own frustration building. “but if you’re gonna act like i’m just some inconvenience, then maybe i should stop trying to be around.”

“who said you’re an inconvenience?” he snapped, his voice rising. “damn, you always gotta make things so complicated.”

you flinched, the words hitting deeper than they should have. “i’m not trying to make things complicated, daryl. you’re the one sending mixed signals. one minute, you’re fine, and the next, you’re acting like i’m a nuisance. what am i supposed to think?”

he exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “i don’t know,” he admitted, his tone softer now. “just... things are different. i’m different. don’t mean it’s got anything to do with you.”

“it feels like it does,” you said quietly, the anger giving way to a dull ache. “i thought we were closer than this.”

“we are,” he said again, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “i ain’t... good at this kinda thing.”

you sighed, your shoulders slumping. “daryl, i’m not asking you to be perfect. just... don’t push me away. i care about you, and it’s hard to do that if you’re always keeping me at arm’s length.”

his jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed to struggle with whatever he wanted to say next. “i’m tryin',” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “ain’t used to people givin’ a damn.”

“well, get used to it,” you said, your voice gentler now. “i’m not going anywhere.”

there was a long pause, the air thick with unspoken words. daryl looked at you, and for once, there was no anger, no frustration - just a quiet kind of confusion, like he didn’t know why you cared, but he didn’t want you to stop. “sorry,” he mumbled, his voice low. “for actin’ like a jerk.”

you managed a small smile. “it’s okay. just... maybe let me in a little, yeah?”

he nodded, a hesitant movement that seemed to cost him more than it should. “yeah,” he said, almost like a promise. “i’ll... i’ll try.”

you reached out and gently touched his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. he didn’t pull away, just watched you with that same uncertain expression. it was a start, at least.

over the next week, things got a little better. daryl wasn’t exactly chatty, but he wasn’t avoiding you either. he’d linger a little longer when you’d talk, offer a gruff “good job” if you did something useful, and once, when he found you struggling with a heavy load, he stepped in without a word, taking it from you like it was nothing.

it wasn’t much, but it was something. still, there were moments when he’d pull back again, just when you thought he was starting to open up. it was like two steps forward, one step back, and you couldn’t tell if he was making progress or if he was just... stuck.

one evening, you found him out by the edge of the woods, crouched down as he checked a snare. the light was fading, and there was a chill in the air, but you walked over anyway, determined to keep trying.

“catch anything?” you asked, crouching beside him.

“nothin’ yet,” he replied, not looking at you.

“figured,” you said, glancing at him. “you okay?”

he shrugged. “fine.”

“you sure?” you pressed, watching him carefully. “you’ve seemed... off.”

he stilled, his jaw clenching. “ain’t nothin’,” he said, but there was something in his tone that gave him away. you could tell he wasn’t being honest.

“daryl,” you said softly, “if something’s wrong, you don’t have to keep it to yourself. i’m here for you, you know.”

“i know,” he grunted, finally glancing at you, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. “just... ain’t used to talkin’ about stuff.”

“then don’t talk,” you said, your hand resting on his shoulder. “just... let me be here with you.”

for a moment, he didn’t respond, just kept his eyes on the snare in front of him. then, with a slow exhale, he straightened up, his shoulder brushing against yours. “fine,” he said quietly. “but don’t expect me to get all... sappy.”

you smiled at that, a little relieved that he hadn’t pushed you away this time. “wouldn’t dream of it,” you said lightly.

as the days passed, you continued to see glimpses of that softer side of him, though it was still wrapped up in that familiar gruffness. you caught him watching you sometimes, a look in his eyes like he was trying to figure something out. you didn’t push him, just let things be, and hoped he’d come around in his own time.

but then, just as you thought you were getting somewhere, he snapped again. it was over something small, some stupid disagreement about whether or not to go on a run for supplies. he was short with you, his words cutting sharper than usual, and it took everything in you not to snap back.

afterward, you found yourself retreating to your cell, wrapping your arms around yourself as you fought off the sting of rejection. you’d tried so hard to be patient, to give him space, but it felt like you’d been walking in circles. why did it always have to be so hard with him?

that night, you found yourself wandering out to the courtyard, needing some air. you hadn’t expected to run into him, but there he was, leaning against the fence with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the darkened landscape.

“what’re you doin’ out here?” he asked when he noticed you, his voice softer than before.

“could ask you the same thing,” you replied, not bothering to mask the hurt in your tone.

he shifted, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “look, about earlier,” he started, his voice gruff, “i didn’t mean to - ”

“yeah, i know,” you interrupted, not wanting to hear another half-hearted apology. “you didn’t mean to snap, you didn’t mean to push me away, you didn’t mean to make me feel like i don’t matter. i get it.”

daryl stiffened at your words, his jaw working as if he was trying to form a response but couldn't find the right one. his gaze dropped to the ground, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “ain’t like that,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “you do matter.”

“then why does it feel like you’re always pushing me away?” you asked, the hurt bleeding through in your voice. “it’s like one minute you’re letting me in, and the next, you’re shutting me out. i don’t know how to keep up with you.”

he glanced up, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something vulnerable beneath the gruff exterior. “i ain’t good at... keepin’ people close,” he admitted, his voice rough. “always figured it was better to keep my distance.”

“better for who?” you asked, taking a step closer. “because it sure as hell doesn’t feel better for me.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, frustration evident in the tightness of his movements. “for you,” he mumbled. “don’t need someone like me weighin’ you down.”

you shook your head, your chest tightening at the realisation. “daryl, i’m not here because i need someone to make my life easier. i’m here because... because i care about you, okay? and it hurts when you act like you don’t care back.”

he was silent for a long moment, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you. finally, he let out a breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. “don’t know how to do this,” he said, the words coming out almost like a confession. “bein’ close to people... it don’t come natural to me.”

you took another step forward, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “then let me help you figure it out,” you said softly. “we don’t have to have it all figured out right now. just... don’t push me away.”

he looked down at your hand on his arm, his gaze softening in a way that was rare for him. “sorry,” he said again, his voice gruff but sincere. “for actin’ like an ass.”

you managed a small smile, relief washing over you. “it’s okay,” you said. “just... try not to do it so much.”

a quiet chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head. “can’t promise that,” he admitted, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips now. “but i’ll try.”

you stood there for a moment, the silence stretching between you but feeling different now - less strained, more... comfortable. when you looked up at him, he was already watching you, his expression a little softer than usual.

“thanks,” you said quietly, not really knowing what else to say.

“don’t gotta thank me,” he replied, his tone gruff but lacking its usual edge. “just... don’t give up on me, alright?”

“never crossed my mind,” you said, and you meant it.

as the weeks passed, things continued to shift between you and daryl. there were still moments when he’d get snappy, but now, he’d usually apologize afterward, albeit in his own awkward way. sometimes, you’d catch him looking at you like he was still trying to figure out why you bothered sticking around, and you’d give him a reassuring smile to let him know you weren’t going anywhere.

one afternoon, as you sat in the courtyard, patching up an old jacket, you noticed daryl nearby, working on his bike. he kept glancing over at you, like he was debating whether or not to come over. eventually, he seemed to make up his mind, dropping his tools and walking over with his usual guarded expression.

“you busy?” he asked, his voice gruff.

“not really,” you replied, setting the jacket aside. “what’s up?”

he shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “just... wondered if you’d wanna go on a run with me tomorrow,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “could use the help.”

you raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips. “are you asking me to come along because you actually want my help, or because you’re trying to make up for being a jerk last week?”

he scoffed, but there was no real annoyance in it. “don’t push your luck,” he grumbled. “could just as easily ask someone else.”

“i’m kidding,” you said quickly, standing up. “i’d love to go.”

his expression softened, and he gave a short nod. “good,” he muttered. “be ready at first light.”

the next morning, you were up before dawn, and by the time daryl arrived, you were already waiting by the gates with your gear. he gave you a quick nod of approval before leading the way into the woods, his pace brisk but not hurried. you followed closely, glad for the chance to spend time with him outside the walls of the prison.

the run went smoothly, with only a couple of walkers to take down along the way. it wasn’t until you were on the way back that daryl finally spoke, his tone more casual than you’d heard it in a while. “you did good out there,” he said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“thanks,” you replied, a little surprised by the compliment. “you weren’t too bad yourself.”

he huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “don’t get cocky,” he said, but there was a faint smile on his lips.

as you neared the prison, the conversation tapered off, and you found yourself wondering if things would go back to how they were before - if he’d retreat behind those walls he’d built around himself. but as you reached the gates, daryl turned to you, his expression more open than you’d ever seen it.

“thanks for comin’ along,” he said, his voice low. “meant a lot.”

“anytime,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “you know where to find me.”

he nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small, almost imperceptible smile before he turned and walked away. you watched him go, a quiet warmth spreading through your chest as you realised that maybe, just maybe, things were starting to change.

over the next few days, daryl was around more often, seeking you out for small tasks or just sitting nearby while you worked. it was a subtle shift, but it felt significant. there were still moments when he’d snap at you, but now, it was easier to brush off, knowing that the softness was still there underneath.

one evening, you were sitting by the fire, lost in thought, when daryl came over and sat beside you. “whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asked, his tone gruff but curious.

“nothing much,” you replied. “just... glad you’re here.”

he gave a quiet grunt in response, but you could see the way his eyes softened at your words. “yeah,” he said after a moment, “me too.”

you turned to him, a small smile on your lips. “i think you’re getting better at this whole ‘being close to people’ thing,” you teased.

he rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in them. “don’t push it,” he said, though his voice was light.

“fine,” you said, leaning back and letting the warmth of the fire wash over you. “but i’m proud of you, daryl.”

he looked at you, something like gratitude flickering in his gaze, and for a moment, there was nothing but quiet understanding between you. then he looked away, his usual gruffness returning. “you’re somethin’ else,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“guess that makes two of us,” you replied, nudging him playfully.

he didn’t respond, but a small, genuine smile graced his face.

the fire continued to crackle, casting flickering shadows across daryl. he was still beside you, closer than he’d been in a while, his usual distance melting away in the warmth of the moment. you couldn’t help but feel a quiet thrill at how his defences seemed to be crumbling bit by bit.

“you know,” you said softly, turning your head to look at him, “you’re not as tough as you let on.” there was a teasing lilt in your voice, but it held a hint of something deeper.

daryl’s eyes flicked to yours, narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge what you meant. “what’s that s’posed to mean?” he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.

“just that... you’re not fooling anyone,” you continued, your voice dipping lower. “especially not me.” 

he held your gaze, something sparking in his eyes that hadn’t been there before - a quiet intensity that seemed to draw you in. you could feel the air between you growing heavier, charged with an unspoken question neither of you dared to voice.

“yeah?” he murmured, his voice gruff, but there was a softness underneath, a trace of uncertainty that told you he was letting his guard down just enough to let you in.

you leaned in slightly, closing the small distance between you, your gaze flickering to his lips before meeting his eyes again. “yeah,” you whispered. “you’re kind of sweet when you want to be, you know.”

he scoffed, but it came out almost breathless. “ain’t sweet,” he grumbled, though his eyes betrayed the way his breath hitched when you got closer.

“prove it,” you challenged, your voice barely audible, your breath mingling with his.

his expression tightened with something you couldn’t quite place - part hesitation, part longing, part frustration. then, in a quick movement, he cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in, his lips crashing against yours with a roughness that sent a shiver down your spine. 

his kiss was demanding, almost desperate, as if he’d been holding back for far too long. his calloused fingers tangled in your hair, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the thought of letting you go. you responded just as fiercely, your hands fisting in his shirt, feeling the solid warmth of him under your touch.

when he pulled back, it was only for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as his breath came out ragged. “this what you wanted?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, the roughness edged with something raw and unguarded.

“maybe,” you breathed, your lips grazing his again, teasingly light. “or maybe i just wanted to see if you’d actually do it.”

a growl rumbled in his throat, and he kissed you again, harder this time, his grip on you firm but not harsh, like he was trying to convey everything he didn’t know how to say. the heat between you intensified, and you found yourself arching into him, his hands trailing down to your waist, pulling you even closer.

it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a silent promise, a raw confession of everything he’d kept bottled up. and when he finally drew back, his lips swollen and his gaze burning with something deep, you knew this was a turning point - one you wouldn’t come back from.

“damn troublemaker,” he muttered, but the words were rough with affection. his thumb brushed over your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture that sent your heart racing all over again.

“guess that makes two of us,” you whispered, echoing your earlier words as you leaned in to steal one last kiss, savouring the taste of him and the feeling of finally breaking through the walls he’d built.

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[blueparadis]

❝ SAY YES TO ME ❞ + JING YUAN.

CW :: female!reader, husband!jing yuan, mostly fluff, ‘baby talk’, angst and smut undertones // synopsis. Jing Yuan wants a little bundle of joy. // word count.1k

notes :: back with my bullsh!t again. atp, jing yuan and his wife has become my new song on loop. this is a sequel but you can enjoy it as a one-shot too. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED. back to blog navigation.

Never in thousand light years Jing Yuan thought he would witness this sight: his wife sleeping on same bed with him using his arm as a pillow. Not that he has not slept with you before, he has but not like this: like fine silk threads that are too tangled to be spruced up for weaving. He swiftly moves his arm by an inch not to wake you up but enough to let you shift in sleep.

Jing Yuan’s dawing amber eyes flash on the pendant that rests on your chest and his mind is immediately occupied by the visions on that pendant kept dancing as he fucked you deep and full, along with your tits. He groans getting out of bed and spotting the nightgown you had on last night. That's odd. You are not naked now. Maybe when he was asleep you cleaned yourself up.

Jing Yuan walks to your side of the bed grazing your cheeks with the back of his palm. You look so at peace, so beautiful like this. He leans towards you blowing air into your ears, hands resting on the edge ready to catch you if you fall. A sharp intake of breath, slow blinking of heavy eyelids as a husky voice penetrates your lulled state. “Good Morning, my little sparrow.”

“Good morning ’my lion.” you barely mumble stretching out your limbs to be properly awake.

As he ties the sash of his robe you sit up, looking around your eyes fall on a carved piece of wood that seems like a bird. “What is that?” You asked briskly grabbing the piece from the side table and inspecting it. “Have you been taking Yanqing’s toys? to punish him? Again? ” Your voice spiked up at each turn of a question.

“No,” He protested immediately yet it did not satisfy you. You narrowed your gaze on him and then shifted your attention to the carved wooden piece.

“Did you make this?”

“Hmm-ummm” Jing Yuan responded. He is tapping his feet on the ground with his arms tucked across his chest. Unable to keep his bubbling thoughts to himself he blurted out “It’s for you.” You snap your eyes at him with surprise. He sat at the edge of the bed explaining further, “I — I made this for us. For you know, our baby.”

“Oh.” Your eyebrows grew closer as you looked at him holding the wooden eagle in curled palms. “oh” You realized what was going on with him all these, getting handsy with you, spending more time with Yanquig, looking at you with bedroom eyes every time you went in his quarters during his working hours and as such.

“Oh I see.” At this point you could hear every swallow of breath you took. “Will you...will you really discard me...if i don't want— You murmur with tears in your eyes, vision so blur that you can barely see his face properly. You looked down curling your palms in fists on your lap. The rough surface of the wooden eagle pinches your skin.

You remember how your father wedded another woman to produce an heir, always looked down upon since the moment your half-brother was born and when things did not go as planned he decided to use you as a weapon, to mend his torn kingdom. In your memory, your mother has always been a spectator, an audience of the sabotage your father inflicted on you, and your mother — always will be; but shall you too go down the same fate?

— or rather can't give you an heir? Tell me. Now. Will you? ”

“what? No. No. I married you because I liked you. Anyone who says otherwise is just lying. Moreover, you don't have to give me an heir.” Jing Yuan buried under the debris of some fairly tail happy endings he concocted about you crashed into pieces. Who made you like this? Who hurt you so bad that — “I just... I just want us to try for a baby. A symbol of our love.”

“symbol of our love?” You question it as if you never thought of him having any iota of affection for you. You question it as if you never considered that this marriage of convenience could offer you something more.

“yes.” Jing Yuan sternly spoke taking your hands into his. He cupped your cheeks swiping away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. “You know,” he starts “I always wondered why you didn’t cry that day. . . when I brought you here for the first time. I was under the impression that girls generally cry when they have to leave their home.” He chuckles softly scooting towards you. “But i think I have an idea now. . .” he trails off. Ducking his head a little he meets your eyes that has been stilled on the crumpled bedsheets for a while now.

“I— I felt caged there. My father isn't a kind man.“ You admitted .

“Oh Trust me, I’m aware.” A cackle followed. You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes.

“Let me think about it. I promise. I promise to think about it.” You muttered flinching at the sudden jolt that made you close your eyes. When you opened them, you were inches closer to his face, your knees touching the soft mattress as one of his thighs support you in V - position. He is deflecting the hurt, there must be some isn't it? After all, Jing Yuan did not anticipate this kind of reaction either. Sure, he expected you to throw a tantrum but not to be so dipped in dread.

“Sure.” He quips resting his chin on the apex of your cleavage. “Meanwhile. Give that to me.” He eyes the wooden piece of the eagle before continuing, “I don't want you to stress about this. We have time. We can talk about it tomorrow, the day after, or maybe never. I'll wait,”

You parted your lips to speak in hopes of soothing the hurt. If you know him well, then you can assume that he is hurt, so much so that he might have reopened some old wounds.

“I’ll wait my dear.” he beams before kissing between your collarbones. Ah! He is a walking wound now.

sequel to void.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

♦️

There is never a time when trans Ranpo isnt on my mind. Absolute peak being..

I'd love to request anything for him 👏

Author's Note: Trans Ranpo… big brain moment 😳 — I went with headcannons for this request, I hope that's alright with you 🙏

Pairings: Ranpo x male reader

To start things off, Ranpo does not shave or wax down there. It's way too much work and it hurts. He's not going through all of that!

Which means he has a really nice happy trail and a thick bush of pubic hair. Both of which are on the softer side

Ranpo can be a brat, but like, a fun, playful brat. He likes to tease and play fight and whine, but he doesn't like getting punished

Not harsh punishments, anyways. A few spanks, orgasm denial/edging, or withholding praise: those are very good punishments though 👍

Speaking of! I definitely think Ranpo has NPD, and obviously a major praise kink

SPOIL 👏 THAT 👏 MAN 👏

Compliment him in between kisses, trailing all up and down his body

Compliment his voice and the sounds he makes

Praise him for how well he can take your dick

Praise him for being so fucking good all week. Then reward him with his favorite snacks and a good, rough fuck

And, speaking of food; another anon requested something where Ranpo has a food kink, and now I can't see him without one–

Make Ranpo lick chocolate or whipped cream off of your dick, or some other food that can easily be incorporated into sex

And, if you also like chocolate or something, pour a bit down his chest and lick it off. Grab his waist and feel how squirmy the cutie gets when your tongue drags up his chest 😋

When you're working and he's bored, Ranpo will just throw himself in your lap or your space

This has resulted in many under the desk BJs, cockwarming sessions, and sneaky sex in the office

My mans will literally think about riding you in the middle of a meeting. No shame 😐

Would he actually ride you with anyone else around? That's tough to say. I think there's a possibility there

It's not even a question of "does Ranpo have a public sex kink?", it's a matter of "how bad does he want your cock?"

If he's desperate enough, he might be willing to throw that humiliation out the window

It's not that he doesn't enjoy giving you head, but if he does, he expects you to eat him out in return

Make his little legs tremble while you stimulate his puffy clit (or tdick, if he has any growth down there!)

Ranpo gets embarrassed when you loudly lick and slurp though… it's really cute 🫣

After sex, he can be very, very cuddly

Lots of kisses and more praise is a must!

So are tight hugs and a playful ruffle of his hair

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐕𝐄

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Jess was not what everyone made him out to be, and you were not too naïve to believe that...right?

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Jess Mariano x Reader

Stars Hollow has always had a way of wrapping itself around you. Every corner of the quirky little town, every face that smiled back at yours, it felt like safety. You’d grown up here, where everyone knew your name and the soft way you saw the world. It wasn’t naivety, at least that’s not how you saw it. You just always chose to believe the best in people, even when the town buzzed around you, warning you to be careful, to protect yourself.

But it was always protective of you. The town. They treated you like something fragile, like a porcelain doll that might shatter if handled too roughly. You never saw it that way. You were just… you. Seeing the good in people wasn’t a weakness; it was just how you were wired. But that didn’t stop everyone from fretting.

When Jess Mariano moved to town, all those concerned whispers turned into full-on conversations. “Be careful,” they’d say, watching you like you were made of glass. “He’s trouble.” And sure, you’d seen his rough edges—the sarcastic comments, the lingering smirk, the way he pushed everyone away before they had the chance to get close. But somehow, with you, he wasn’t any of that.

You’d catch him slipping books into your bag when you weren’t looking, ones he knew you’d love. He’d hold the diner door open for you without even thinking, and sometimes, in those quiet moments when you’d both sit by the bridge reading, his arm would brush yours, and instead of pulling away, he’d linger just a little longer.

But Rory didn’t see that. Rory, your best friend, and when you told her—voice soft, words barely above a whisper—that you thought you might like Jess, it felt like the ground beneath you shifted.

"Jess?" Rory’s tone was sharp, her brow furrowed in disbelief. "You can't be serious. He’s just playing with you, you know that, right?"

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden coldness in her voice. “What do you mean?”

Rory sighed, crossing her arms. “Look, you’re… you’re sweet, okay? Too sweet. You always see the good in people, and Jess—he’s just… Jess. He doesn’t care about anyone, especially not you.”

Your heart sank, her words landing like stones. "How can you say that? You don’t see the way he is when it's just us."

Rory laughed, but there was no humor in it. "He's not different with you. You're just… you're the easiest person to fool in this town. Everyone knows that. You’re the nice one. The innocent one. He’s just going to break your heart."

The sting of her words was sharp, like a slap you hadn’t seen coming. "You don’t get to decide that," you murmured, feeling the familiar burn of tears behind your eyes. "You don’t know him like I do."

But Rory was relentless. "There’s no way Jess actually likes you. He’s just bored. He knows he can mess with you because you’ll let him." Her voice was firm, unyielding, and it left no room for argument.

You didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. Not when the hurt clawed its way up your throat, silencing you. Without another word, you turned and left, the tears finally spilling over as you opened the door to leave.

You made it to the porch, when you saw Lorelai already sitting there, a mug in her hand. Her eyes softened when she saw you, the slight quirk of her lips not quite enough to hide the concern etched in her face.

“So,” she said, trying for a lightness that didn’t quite land. “Guessing you had a little chat with Rory, huh?”

You stood there, heart aching, lip trembling, before finally breaking. “I guess you heard.” Your voice was barely a whisper, and it broke halfway through.

Lorelai’s smile faltered, her eyes filling with that knowing kind of sadness she always got when she wanted to fix something but couldn’t. “Well… she’s not exactly quiet. Or subtle. But hey, that’s our Rory.” She tried to laugh, but it only made your chest ache more.

You sat down beside her, your shoulders slumping as the weight of everything pressed down on you. “What if she’s right?” you whispered, staring down at your hands as they twisted together in your lap. “What if… he doesn’t really like me? What if I’m just… the easy one?”

Lorelai sighed, long and deep, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Kid, you’ve always seen the good in people. Sometimes more than they deserve. But that’s part of what makes you… you.” Her voice was softer now, less playful, and it only made the tears come faster.

You wiped at your face, sniffling. “He’s not like that with me, Lore. I know he’s not.”

She stayed quiet for a moment, her thumb tracing gentle circles on your arm. “Tell me what he’s done. What’s he done that makes you think he cares?”

You swallowed hard, trying to hold it together. “He… he gives me books. Ones he knows I’d like. And he… he waits for me after school sometimes. Even when I didn’t ask him to. And when I’m upset, he just… listens. He’s not the guy everyone says he is.”

Lorelai pursed her lips, thinking. “Sounds like he’s a little softer than the town likes to think, huh?”

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper now. “I think he cares about me.”

She sighed again, this time a little less heavily, and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Maybe he does,” she said quietly, reluctantly, like she didn’t want to admit it, but couldn’t deny the possibility. “Maybe he does, kid.”

You sniffled again, leaning into her, the warmth of her arms the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. “I just… I just want to believe in him.”

Lorelai pulled you closer, her arms wrapping tighter around you. “I know you do. And maybe you’re right. Maybe Jess Mariano does like you. And if he doesn’t… well, Luke and I will take care of that. But you… you're not the naive one for believing in him.”

Your lip trembled again, the weight of everything finally catching up to you. “I just don’t want to be wrong about him.”

Lorelai’s voice was soft, soothing as she rocked you gently. “Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. I promise.”

And you stayed there, curled up against her, wondering if maybe, just maybe, Jess Mariano wasn’t the villain everyone said he was. Maybe he was just waiting for someone to believe in him the way you did.

[rhadamanthes]

Passenger princess. Bodyguard!Sukuna x reader

word count: 1,6k

warnings: reader is a brat, so brat taming, hate sex, rough sex, no prep, biting, fingering, car sex, squirting , lot of spanks, one (1) face slap, hair pulling.

"I don’t care that it’s getting late. I'm a grown woman. If I want to spend the night outside I do! » you yell in the receiver.

« Let me make this simpler If your not home in an hour I'm cutting you off and you can go find a job » Your dad counters

You gasp in shock at his word, your free hand comes to your chest in surprise. You never worked a single day in your life and you don't intend to. Guess an early night never killed anyone.

« Well, how can I go home when my car is at the pound? » you say sarcastically 

« I sent someone for you he’s already there »

You turn around and come face to face with a pink haired handsome man. He clearly looks as displeased as you to be here so you decide to test the water.

« Let me guess pink hair, questionable face tattoo and could lessen on the aftershave? tell him to back off if he doesn't want to get hurt » you say hanging up and making your way to the shiny black car.

Resting your lower back on the car you text your friends that you have to go. The brooding man opens the door for you, you take your seat and he closes the door, so fast it almost gets to your foot. you gasp looking at him through the window but he's already making his way to the driver's seat. Pluggin the keys in, he starts to drive away. 

"You almost cut my foot" you warn, looking at his side profile.

"Not of my will, sorry miss" he states uninterested looking at the road

Sukuna reaches for the radio but you swat his hand away. 

"I need silence" you smile softly, meeting his gaze briefly. His grip on the wheel tightens, leather crying under it and your smile widdens. 

You take a sick pleasure in making people angry and he is very receptive if you push a bit more he'll break you wonder what he will do, smiling to yourself you look at the scenery through the window. You sneaked out to go to a party outside the city and your dad was pissed when he found out, he wasn't supposed to, he always goes to bed early. You look at the time 1:18 AM. You sigh, resting your back against the window so you can look better at your babysitter. You know Sukuna is one of your father's employees. He ensures his protection and chauffeur for him sometimes, you don't know the terms of his contract but for him to be available at this hour makes you want to push him to the edge even more. Letting your feet slide out of your heels you extend them to his face. Tracing his tattoos with your toes. 

"It's only good measure for you to kiss it when you almost amputated it" you taunt covering his mouth with your foot. 

Before you can continue your scheme furthermore the car drifts to the side of the road he grabs both of your ankles in one of his large hands. In a blink of an eye he's outside dragging you by your feet. He held you up on his shoulder throwing you in the backseat. You're about to scold him when he squishes your cheeks making it impossible for you to talk.  The tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife, you feel your excitement rush to your panties. He's breathing heavily and his eyes are dark. If it wasn't for his hands crushing your lower face, you'd be grinning ear to ear. 

"I'm not your father and I'm not one of his other lackeys scared of you, so keep going on with your little act and you are walking back home. I don't care if he kicks you out of the trust fund." He says through gritted teeth releasing his grip. 

Working your jaw a few times to soothe it, you slap him across the face "And i don't care that you're different from the other guards, you're still my bitch boy if I tell you to do something you just do, i don't care about your opinion" you state, pushing on your hands to get past him. Before you can feel the cold air he pins you down by your wrist on the leather seat, hovering you with eyes even darker than before.  

"I'm sick of dealing with brats like you and your stupid father." he rasps biting on your neck hard; You wiggle trying to get out of his grasp but he pins your wrist higher to stop you from moving. with his teeth he lift the hem of your dress up to your belly and fuck you're not even wearing underwear. he rest his forehead and you tummy breathing in your scent, it's disgustingly sweet. Letting go of your wrist, Sukuna gets rid of your dress and throws it on the passenger seat. A golden jewel on your nipple catches his attention. He scoffs, reaching for it, but you stop him, catching his hand in yours. 

"It's not healed yet, please don't touch it will get worse" you say, kissing his hands in an attempt to soften him. He crushes your hand in response, you hiss freeing it from his grasp. His index finger comes in your face pointing you accusatively. 

"No more funny shit you get it?" he growls in a serious tone. You nod your head eagerly, excited for what is about to come. "Promise!" catching his slender finger in your mouth. You twirl your tongue around it mimicking a blowjob as you hollow your cheeks and take progressively more in your mouth. 

Sukuna looks at you with furrowed brows thinking you really are a lost cause as he starts to understand you did this in the only purpose to get railed. If this is what you want then. Retrieving his finger from your mouth he positions you on your belly spanking your ass hard. You squeal at the stinging sensation, it only adds more arousal to your wet cunt. He spanks you again on the other cheek. This time you turn around 

"Don't go so hard i have a pool party tomor-" Another spank, He's looking at you with a defying gaze and you just sigh in defeat resuming your previous position. You hear his belt unbuckle and his zipper going down. 

"You're not even going to lick me a bit?" you ask, resting your cheek on the leather seat wiggling your ass to tempt him. 

"Like you deserve it" he spat spreading your pussy lips groaning at the sight of your wetness already leaking. 

You giggle, looking back at his cock, you bite your lips at the angry red of his tip, the veins popping on the sides, you can't wait to feel him inside of you. 

Without warning he enters his full length inside of you and all the air is pulled from your lung. He's filling you so well but his roughness makes it hard to appreciate.  He starts to thrust at a rather slow pace which eases the pain. You slowly start to feel the pleasure, bouncing back on his cock 

"God Suki you do it so well" you moan.

The nickname earns you a spank and you can't help but grin at his easiness to be riled up. Sukuna pulls on your hair until you're against his chest, never slowing down the pace. You grip on the headrest for support locking your eyes with his. 

"Kiss me" you say out of breath. 

The anger can not be mistaken and yet, he dives for a kiss, it feels more like a domination assertance the way he bites on your lips and tongue while keeping your throat in place with one of his warm hands. You moan into the kiss letting your free hand go to his hair pulling lightly on it. He releases your mouth picking up his pace while cursing under his breath. At this point arousal is running down your thigh and you don't care if it stains the leather. Sukuna's cock is kissing your insides perfectly. He tries to be rough but you like it like that, feeling the pleasure escalate quickly inside of you. His thrust gets sloppier, you know he's about to burst.

"Come inside of me please" You beg.

Sukuna grunt at your request, as much as he would like to watch his semence leak out of you he doesn't want to grant you your wishes, the way you danced on his nerves still angers him. He ruts until he's on the edge and pulls out at the last second turning you around to cum on your belly. You're empty and your orgasm has been robbed, the tears prickle in your eyes and when you look up at him, for the first time tonight he smiles, you want to insult him so badly. 

"I'm going to give you a real reason to cry" he coos.

His fingers replace his cock as he curls them up against your g-spot he's rubbing them fast and you feel something that you haven't felt before, it feels like you're about to pee but it feels good too, not wanting to humiliate yourself further you pull at his wrist for him to stop, he only goes faster. Seconds later  you squirt all over his hand and the leather, shaking in his arms as the bliss takes over your body. You moan uncontrollably digging your nails in his skin.  Your eyes are closed, suddenly you want to sleep letting your body slump against his. Sukuna looks at you half asleep in his arms, you almost look peaceful.  He sighs, wiping the cum out of your body and covering you with his sweater. Now that he calmed down he's determined to drive you home before your dad desherite you.