#and 'how to tell when you are hungry if you don't get the low blood sugar crash to warn you'

[tj-crochets]

Follow up question on this topic that is going to sound like a joke but it isn't: How do you tell when you are stressed enough that you need to stop what you are doing and go do something to de-stress if you don't have "oncoming allergy migraine symptoms" to warn you? Like, the silver lining of all my health issues is that they give very unignorable signs when I need something (I can't always interpret them correctly, but that's a different problem). My "uh oh better go take a five minute break and calm down" sign was high blood pressure, low (for me) heart rate, shakiness, and a feeling like I was about to burst into tears despite not feeling sad Yesterday, I got very, very stressed at work. I accidentally pushed right past the threshold that normally would have been my stop point, because I did not have the physical symptoms, until I realized I was so overstimulated I couldn't listen to music (a thing that has literally never happened to me before) So I have to re-learn how to tell when I am stressed. It's not the first time I've had to relearn a basic life skill when I got a health issue more under control, but I admit I'm kinda stumped on how to figure this one out

So on the plus side I apparently unexpectedly reached some threshold of stabilizing my mast cells and have had a few reactions with no migraine or nausea! I'm experiencing acute stress without having bad tachycardia or shaking or having a little bit of that whole "impending sense of doom!" On the minus side I seem to have gone back to hives????? I used to get hives from like 2015ish to like 2019ish, when I finally mostly got my allergies under control*, and then I mostly just stopped having hives. Like. At all. I might have contact dermatitis on like hands knees or elbows if I happened to touch pollen from the Mystery Plant I am allergic to** but I did not get the spontaneous hives on my joints all the time, and now I had one on my hip and I feel like my hand is trying to get one and maybe my knee????? This is definitely a huge step down in terms of severity, significantly less likely to have side effects that land me in the hospital, but I am so confused. Happy about it! Hope it lasts! But so confused. Also (and I do remember this from the few times I got hives once I started antihistamines), feeling a hive try to form while on high doses of antihistamines is so weird. I feel like if I get into too much detail it might squick y'all out but trust me it's a weird feeling. Each individual hive since I've been on daily antihistamines, with one notable exception, lasts less than an hour instead of 24+ hours. *read: four times the daily recommended dose of 24 hour antihistamines, as my allergist told me to do **was not able to narrow down what, exactly, it is, but it was seasonally limited and limited to a certain geographic area so like I think it was a plant? Forgot to mention: I had very little overlap between the "all hives all the time" era of my allergies and the "severe migraines leading to severe dehydration" era of my allergies. Like, very occasionally my hives reaction would get bad enough I'd get the migraine and nausea as well, but very, very rarely. They aren't mutually exclusive they just seem to be for me?

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

your boyfriend, jason todd, could break out of your pink fuzzy handcuffs whenever he wants to.

he's fought countless goons—

kicked guns out of their hands, strangled them, escaped without a scratch (besides red, chafed wrists)

—all while tied up

so to put it frankly, the cheap metal of your sex store purchased handcuffs would not hold up against the power of his arms pulling at them. that's why his arms are decidedly slackened as he looks up at you. a lazy, expectant smile plays on his lips. what's your plan here?

and to be honest, you don't really have one. you thought of the tying-him-up part.. but not much else. your brain gets a little fuzzy just looking at him.

you'd brought out the cuffs, and he'd been down enough to try, telling you that if he was tied back, you'd be given full control..

you'd been so eager that neither of you had even undressed.

how were you even supposed to actually do anything to him? jason's biceps bulged through his shirt sleeves, and the stretch you had him in resulted in his shirt riding up, exposing his stomach. a line of dark hair disappeared down into the waistband of his boxers, into the deep blue denim of his jeans.

thoughts of riding him flit around your brain, making your heartbeat grow louder in your ears. he's restrained. you could tease him, pull him dangerously close to the edge, so close that he's whining, begging you to finish, before stopping altogether just to listen to him pant. you could take a seat on his face, your boyfriend using nothing but his mouth to get you off. and he'd work hard at it too, never one to give low effort to a job like that.

his eyes are half-open, but you can still see how big his pupils are. the warmth in between your thighs grows, you're unable to ignore it as it unfurls into your belly. you can see your boyfriend notice the way you're shifting around, his canines practically glinting when his smile widens in response. your pulse quickens. restraining him almost feels like a mistake.

jason doesn't think he's ever been this hard in his life. he knows you. he can practically see you thinking, knows that whatever you plan to do has you squirming, and it's just making his cock strain painfully against the taut fabric of his jeans. he can tell you're trying to ignore how wet you are, and it's done nothing but send blood pumping into his cock faster.

but he's humoring you. he wouldn't say you had full control, and not give it to you.

you've driven yourself wild with all the possibilities and jason's driven himself wild with the present. the two of you aren't even touching, didn't need to be, with how hungry you are for each other.

you place your palms on your boyfriend's chest, determined in your actions as you straddle his hips. he barks out a strained laugh.

"it's about fuckin' time."

[loveritas]

Kinktober Day 2 - Vampire! Gojo

contains: nsfw content (mdni), fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, biting/marking, blood drinking, oral (reader receiving), fingering, teasing, he calls you 'dove' - for more kinktober here - wc: 4.1k

The room was bathed with golden, warm candlelight dancing across the walls. The air was thick with tension-one brought about by too much pent-up desire. You felt the intensity of Satoru looking at you with those icy blue eyes which pierced through the dim lighting, fixed only on you.

His interest in you had always been apparent, even when you didn't know what he truly was. Now, with full knowledge of him being a vampire, everything fell into place: how observant of you he always had been, keenly aware of your presence. It was in the hunger visible behind his gaze whenever he was near. It wasn't just infatuation.

This ran so much deeper and darker.

You were pinned beneath him now, his body cool against the heat of your skin, his lips grazing your collarbone in teasing, measured touches. Each scrape of his lips sent a shiver down your spine, but the way his teeth skated over your skin was what really got your heart racing.

"Your pulse," Satoru breathed, the low huskiness in his voice sending a thrill through you. "I can hear it. I can feel it." He pressed a cold hand to your chest, over your heart, his lips grazing your neck as he spoke. "It drives me insane."

His mouth trailed down your throat, gently kissing and running his teeth softly along the skin but never breaking it. He left little hickeys in his wake until your breath caught in your throat. The feeling was intoxicating, this threat of pain and pleasure all mixed together into something you couldn't resist. He was always this way: hungry, obsessed, dangerously possessive when it came to you.

And there was no mistaking how badly you wanted him too.

"Satoru…" you whispered, your fingers curling into his hair as you pulled him closer, almost like you were daring him to bite.

He chuckled softly against your neck, the low sound sending chills along your spine. "You want it, don't you, dove?" he murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive spot where your pulse thrummed just beneath the surface. "You want me to bite you."

It wasn't a question. He knew. He always knew.

His fangs teased the skin, teasing and taunting with promises of what would be. His hold on you would tighten as his hand slid to the small of your back, pressing against yours, his cold skin so very far away from the growing heat inside.

“You drive me crazy," he whispered huskily, frustration and longing breaking through in his voice. "I just can't get enough of you."

Then, without a second of hesitation, he plunged his fangs into your neck.

The sharpness of the bite had you gasping, your body taut for that instant the pain hit, but it quickly melted into something else-something much darker, a great deal more pleasurable. You let out a small breathy moan with just the sting of his bite. His fangs drove deeper, drinking from you with a hunger that was endless. His other hand held onto your hip, holding you in place possessively while he drank from you, needing it just as much as you wanted it.

The feeling was overwhelming, the pain evident, but the way his mouth moved across your skin, the way his tongue tasted the blood that spilled was nothing short of intoxicating. It had been some sort of drug, the pain and pleasure melting into one another so fluidly that you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

He leaned back an inch or so, his lips red with your blood, his eyes dark with hunger. He looked at you as if you were his, as if no one else could ever have you, and that possessiveness made your pulse quicken.

“You taste so fucking heavenly,” Satoru said softly, his voice thick with desire as he leaned in to press a blood-stained kiss against your lips. The metallic tang mixed with the taste of him, made you dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by the intimacy of it all. “I could do this forever.”

His hands roamed over your body as he kissed you deeply, the primal hunger in him, gently tugging your bottom lip with his fangs, a silent reminder of the power he had over you. But it wasn't just about power; it was about need, a need that was his obsession.

He leaned in and started kissing down your neck, his lips trailing over the bite mark he had left, licking at the blood still trickling from the wound. It was almost too much, the tenderness of his touch, the soothing of his tongue against the pain. Every moment with him was a contradiction, the danger and the ecstasy, the fear and the love-blurred together.

“You are mine” he whispered, his tone low and possessive, before he nipped at your skin once more, this time softer. “No one else can touch you like this.”

His words, laced with dominance, sent a rush of heat through you. Your hands moved almost on their own, slipping under the fabric of his shirt, tracing the firm muscles of his chest. His skin, cold but electrifying, made you crave more, needing to feel him, to pull him closer. 

Your fingers wandered lower, your touch bolder as you ran them over his abdomen, but before you could go lower, Satoru’s hand caught your wrist. A low hum of laughter escaped his lips as he looked down at you, eyes gleaming with mirth. "Ah," he teased softly, smugness laced within the tone. "A bit eager, aren't you, dove?”

His fingers clutched your wrist firmly, yet didn't hurt you, holding you in place as his eyes stared into yours. "I didn't think you'd be this desperate for me already," he whispered, leaning in so close his breath ghosted your lips. “But then again… You always seem to lose yourself when I bite you.”

Your cheeks flushed, but the desire in his eyes mirrored your own. You couldn’t deny how badly you wanted him, especially when his touch made every nerve in your body ignite. Still, you squirmed under his hold, trying to free your hand, and he loosened his grip just enough to let your fingers slide down his body again, tracing the hard lines of muscle. His body tensed slightly at your touch, but that only fueled your need to feel more of him.

Satoru’s smirk widened as he watched you, his eyes darkened with lust. “Tsk, tsk,” he clicked his tongue, his other hand brushing a lock of hair away from your face. “You’re so impatient, darling.”

His teasing voice made you nervous, but it didn't keep you from reaching for him, trying to close the distance between your bodies. Your hand slipped lower and just as your fingers brushed the waistband of his pants, he was on you again pushing you back against the bed with a playful growl.

"So damn needy," he purred. "Do you want me that badly?" You could see the hunger in his eyes, but he was savouring this, relishing the control he has over you.

His hand slid down your waist, tugging your hips against his. "You’re practically begging for me, " he murmured, his lips against your ear.

“I don’t beg,” you managed to say, your voice breathless and defiant, even as your body betrayed you, arching into him.

He chuckled, clearly amused by your attempt at resistance. “No?” he murmured, his lips trailing down to the curve of your neck again. “Then what do you call this?” His fangs scraped lightly along your skin, enough to catch your breath but not to bite-not yet.

Your hands roamed over his back, desperate to pull him closer, feel every inch of him, but he was going at his own pace, teasing with every touch. He was right, you were practically begging for him, but there was something thrilling in the way he made you wait, made you crave each second of it that much more.

His fingers trailed across your skin, torturously slow in their gentleness, deliberate in every way-a show of control over you. “What do you want, hm? Tell me.”

“You know what I want,” you breathed, your voice coming out shakier than you intended, your hand slipping lower, smoothing over his bulge with bold need.

His eyes flared with a mix of amusement and hunger as you touched him, his jaw tightening. “Oh, I know,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “But I want to hear you say it.”

The playful smirk never left his face as he watched you squirm beneath him, your body aching for the release only he could give. He was enjoying every second of this—holding you just at the edge, making you admit how much you craved him.

You tried to hold back, but the way his hips pressed against yours, the friction he was deliberately denying, made it impossible. “I want you,” you whispered, the admission spilling out before you could stop it, your other hand pulling him in closer. “Please.”

Satoru’s lips curled into a triumphant smile, his eyes gleaming with victory as he finally let go of his teasing restraint. “Good girl,” he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. In one swift movement, he closed the remaining distance between you, his mouth crashing against yours in a searing kiss, full of the passion and hunger he had been holding back in the prior one.

His hands moved quickly now, no longer teasing, as they roamed over your body, sliding beneath your dress to explore every inch of you. His touch was electric, sending sparks through your skin as he claimed you completely, his body pressing into yours with a newfound urgency.

Satoru’s lips left yours, his mouth trailing fire down the side of your neck, marks of his claim already showing. Each kiss he pressed to your flesh was filled with hunger and something darker. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice gruff as his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs to spread them apart as he settled between them.

The change in him was palpable. The teasing was gone and in its place, a primal need that you could feel in the way his body moved against yours. His fingers danced over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He worked his way down, his lips followed the trail of his hands as he peppered small kisses down your body, taking his time with each touch as he savoured the moment.

The anticipation was nearly unbearable, your body trembling beneath him, craving more of his touch, more of the way he made you feel like nothing else mattered but him. He chuckled darkly when he felt you press into him again, desperate for the friction that only he could give. “So eager,” he murmured, his voice laced with that same smug amusement, even as his own desire became harder to restrain. “Look at you... already falling apart under me.”

His words sent a shiver through you, but before you could respond, he lowered himself between your legs, his lips hovering just above your panties as he licked a stripe along the fabric, “You want me to take you like this, don’t you?” His fingers traced the outline of your folds through the already damp fabric, teasingly light, enough to make you gasp but not enough to satisfy the growing need inside you. “I can feel how badly you want it.”

You nodded, breathless, barely able to form words as his fingers pressed against you more firmly. “Yes… please, toru,” you whispered, your voice a broken plea, your hips bucking up against him.

He growled low in his throat at the sound of your voice, at the way you begged for him, his eyes darkening with raw desire. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said, his voice rough and edged with satisfaction as he tugged the cotton fabric to the side, a finger sliding along your slit, drawing a moan from your lips.

He slid a finger inside you, not  facing much resistance as you were already soaked for him. The pleasure was immediate, your body responding to him as though it had been made for him. You gasped as he quickly added another finger, the two working inside you with deliberate precision. He was relentless in the way he touched you, each movement calculated to drive you higher, to make you fall apart under his control.

“You’re divine,” he whispered against your core, his tongue darting out to follow the path his fingers had taken, working through your folds with an intense hunger. “Every part of you… is mine.”

His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes that had you clutching the sheets beneath you. The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of his mouth and his fingers driving you wild, each flick of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through your body, leaving you aching for more. He momentarily withdrew his fingers to spread your folds and flatten his tongue along your pussy, not daring to miss a single part.

The noises were obscene as he sucked on your clit eagerly, it was the same desire he felt for the blood that ran through your veins but amplified tenfold.

Satoru groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core as he increased the pace, his fingers slipping back inside, moving in tandem with his tongue, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging at the white strands as you arched against him, your moans growing louder with every passing second.

“Satoru,” you whimpered, his name spilling from your lips in a desperate cry as the pressure inside you built to an unbearable level, your body tightening, trembling under his skilled touch.

He chuckled darkly, pulling back just enough to look up at you, his mouth slick with your arousal, his eyes glowing with satisfaction. “Not yet,” he teased, his voice low and full of control as he slowed his movements, keeping you on the brink of release without letting you fall over the edge. “You’ll come when I say.”

The frustration mixed with pleasure made you groan, your hands gripping his shoulders as you tried to pull him closer, needing him to push you over the edge. But Satoru wasn’t ready to let you have that release yet, his hands stilling as he kissed his way back up your body, leaving you teetering on the brink of pleasure.

His fingers slid from inside you, and you could feel the loss immediately, your body aching with the need for more.

Before you could whine in frustration, he tugged his boxers down, freeing his cock, the tip looking desperate to be touched. He pressed his hips against yours, his cock, hard and throbbing, grinding against your soaked core. Your body reacted immediately, hips bucking against him as you sought the friction, but Satoru moved at his own pace, teasing you with every slow, deliberate thrust.

He watched you with dark, hungry eyes as you writhed beneath him, completely at his mercy. "Tell me you love me-" he whispered, his voice quiet as he rocked his hips against yours, barely giving you what you needed. "Say it

“I do” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as you tried to pull him closer, needing more of him, needing him to finally give you what you were craving. “I love you, I swear-”

His smirk returned, and with one swift movement, he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly pushed his cock inside you, inch by agonising inch. The feeling of him filling you completely made your back arch off the bed, a moan escaping your lips as he buried himself to the hilt.

His lips crashed against yours in a bruising kiss, his hips stilling inside you as he drank in the sound of your moan, swallowing the noise. His hands gripped your waist with a firm grip that you knew would leave a mark, pulling you closer as though he needed you pressed against him in every possible way. 

The pressure of his body, the way he filled you completely, left you gasping for air, desperate and overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. Just as you began to move, trying to create some friction between your bodies, he growled low in his throat, his hands stilling your hips. He wasn’t done with his control, his game of teasing you to the edge. 

His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, trailing slow, deliberate kisses down the side of your neck. You could feel the heat of his breath on your skin, and the anticipation made your pulse quicken, knowing exactly what was coming.

“You’re never leaving me,” he whispered, the words like a dark promise as his fangs brushed your skin. His hips rocked against you slowly, dragging out the pleasure until you were trembling beneath him, your body a mess of need and desire. “And I want to make sure you know that.”

Before you could even respond, his fangs sank into your neck, sharp and deeper than the first time, the sudden bite sending a shock of both pain and pleasure through your body. You cried out, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you clung to him, the sensation overwhelming. It was almost too much—the feeling of him inside you, his teeth piercing your skin, his tongue lapping at the blood that spilled from the wound—it all blurred together into one, making you dizzy.

His slow, deliberate pace became more frantic, more primal. He thrust into you with a newfound intensity, each movement driving you further toward the edge as he drank from you.

The pain of the bite faded quickly, replaced by a dizzying pleasure as he sucked at the wound as his hips snapped against yours with a ruthless rhythm, his cock hitting all your sweet spots, the pleasure borderline bruising your insides. Your vision blurred as you felt yourself completely lost in him, lost in the way he claimed you so thoroughly, the way he held you.

You moaned his name, your voice breaking as you felt yourself nearing the edge, your body tightening around him as you clung to him for dear life. Every nerve was on fire, the pleasure of him inside you mixing with the lingering sting of the bite.

Satoru’s growl deepened as he felt your body tighten around him, your moan echoing in the room like a melody only he could hear. His hips moved faster now, the once deliberate rhythm replaced by a primal, uncontrollable need. Each thrust was harder, deeper, his pace relentless as he drove into you with an intensity that left you gasping for breath.

The pain from his bite had long faded, replaced by the heady pleasure that coursed through you with every pulse of his hips, every time his fangs dragged against your skin. His mouth never left your neck, his lips stained red with your blood as he licked and sucked at the wound, drinking from you as though he could never get enough.

Your body was completely overwhelmed by the raw, consuming pleasure that left you trembling beneath him. His name spilled from your lips again and again, a broken, desperate sound that only seemed to fuel his desire. He groaned against your skin, the vibration of his voice sending shivers down your spine, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading your legs further apart as he angled deeper, his cock hitting spots you didn’t even know he could.

"That's it," he purred, his voice rough with hunger as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze wild and dark. His eyes, clouded with lust, locked with yours, and there was something almost feral in the way he smirked. "Let go for me."

You could barely speak, the intensity of his pace robbing you of words, but the way you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, was all the answer he needed. Your body moved instinctively with his, meeting his rough, demanding thrusts as he pushed you closer to the edge, every movement making the knot of pleasure inside you coil tighter and tighter.

"Come on, dove" he urged, his voice low and commanding as he felt you trembling beneath him. His lips found your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to feel you fall apart."

The intensity of his words, the way his hips slammed against yours with a ruthless pace, was too much. The pressure inside you finally snapped, pleasure ripping through you like a storm. Your body arched against him, your nails raking down his back as your release consumed you. His name spilled from your lips in a breathless cry, your entire body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Satoru groaned deeply as he felt you clench around him, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you with even more force, chasing his own release. His thrusts became erratic, his breath coming in harsh pants as he lost himself in the feeling of your body, the sound of your moans, the taste of your blood still lingering on his tongue.

With a final, deep thrust, Satoru buried himself inside you, his release hitting him hard as he groaned your name against your neck. His body shuddered against yours, his fingers digging into your hips as he filled you completely, thick ropes of cum shooting as far as they could, his pace finally slowing as the last waves of pleasure coursed through him.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, your bodies still pressed together as the intensity of the moment lingered between you. Satoru’s lips brushed over the bite mark he had left on your neck, soothing the wound with soft, tender kisses, the possessiveness in his touch still palpable even in the aftermath.

Your body was still buzzing, trembling slightly beneath him, but there was a strange sense of peace in the way he cradled you now, in the aftermath of all the intensity. You couldn’t find words, your mind still reeling from the storm he'd unleashed inside you, but your hands moved instinctively to stroke his back, your touch soft and affectionate, grounding yourself in the feeling of his skin beneath your fingers.

Satoru sighed against your neck, his breath warm and soothing as he finally lifted his head to look at you. His pale blue eyes, clouded with the remnants of desire, held a certain tenderness now—something soft and possessive all at once, like you were a treasure he’d keep forever.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again, his thumb brushing over the mark he’d left on your neck, as though to remind you of his words. The intensity hadn’t left him; it was there in his gaze, simmering beneath the surface, but there was a sense of devotion too, that made your heart clench.

You gazed over at him, feeling the weight of his claim, not just in his words but in every touch, every kiss he pressed against your skin. You were his, in a way that no one else ever could be, and somehow that possessiveness, that dark obsession of his, made you feel safe in his arms.

Satoru chuckled softly, leaning up to press a final kiss to your forehead. "I’m never letting you go, you know that?" His voice was low, filled with a promise that made your heart race all over again, despite the exhaustion settling into your bones.

You smiled softly, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his lips stained with your blood. "I wouldn’t want you to."

His smirk widened at your words, that cocky confidence returning to his features as he captured your lips in another kiss. "Good," he murmured against your lips, his voice a low purr as he pulled back to meet your gaze again. "Because you’re mine forever."

As he held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you, you realised that there was no going back. You were bound to him, just as much as he was to you, in this endless cycle of obsession, hunger, and love. And with the way his body curled protectively around yours, you knew he would never let you forget it.

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[kennarose1108]

Feyd Rautha x Reader "You're Perfect."

Summary: You and Feyd have an arranged marriage. He was cold and didn't talk to you often. But that was only because he didn't was to corrupt you. But he craved you. In his heart and in his arousal. And when you confront him one day he couldn't help but let out all his true feelings...

Warnings: p in v, blood kink, breeding kink, oral (f receiving)

You didn’t understand him. He always spoke to you cruelly but did things that showed he cared. Like getting rid of his concubines after he married you. Or not letting anyone harass or hurt you. He was protective of you, that was for sure. I mean, you were his wife after all, how could he not be protective of you?

But that doesn't mean he was going to be nice to you.

He tended to lash out at you often, especially if you touched him. There was a time he even shoved you back when you rested your hand on his arm. It was like he was disgusted by your touch...

But in reality, it was the complete opposite. God, he wanted you so bad. When you touched his arm he nearly lost control and took you right then and there. You make him go insane. He can't tell if it's lust or love but either way, he knows he wants you badly.

You, of course, didn't know this. You thought it was pure hatred and you didn't understand why.

So you decided to confront him.

He was preparing himself to battle in the arena and he was getting himself painted like he always did before a battle. But someone else entered the room... Someone he didn't expect.

You.

When you entered you looked over his body. He was toned and it was quite attractive to look at... But you swallowed your desire for him and waited for this to be done. When they finished painting him Feyd looked at you over his shoulder before waving his hand at the people around them, telling them he wanted them to go.

They quickly scurried off in an instant leaving you two alone. Feyd turned forward and looked away from you. "Why are you here, wife?" He says in his usual raspy voice. You slowly circled him, taking in his shirtless appearance. "I want to know why..." You say, finally stopping in front of him.

"Why what?" He says, not even looking at you. "Why you hate me." You say while crossing your arms over your chest. He rolls his eyes and makes a 'Are you kidding me' face. "I don't hate you. You're my wife." He says it like it is the most obvious thing in the galaxy. "Then why are you so cold to me? I mean... You seem revolted by my touch." I say. He clicks his tongue, "I don't have time for this." He says while turning away but you grab his arm which he quickly snaps out of your grip.

"See!" You say. He has his back turned to you. Your face grows sad and you sigh deeply. "Please just answer me..." You say in a low tone of voice while staring at him with sad eyes. He doesn't answer. He doesn't move.

You grow frustrated and you huff before saying, "Forget it..." You say while walking past him and trying to leave the room... But before you can he grabs you, one of his arms going around your shoulders and the other going around your waist. You let out a sharp gasp as his hot lips trailed up and down your neck.

"I ache for you..." He bites down on your neck, getting another sharp gasp to escape your lips. "I want you so bad I can hardly breathe..." He says while licking the wound clean, tasting your sweet blood.

"I can't get enough of you..." He whispers in your ear. He then spins you around and cups your face between his hands, his thumbs resting on your cheekbones, his face inches away from yours. Your breathing was heavy and your face was flushed. "Feyd..." You whisper, the sound sending shivers down his spine.

"I have restrained myself from you. I don't wish to corrupt you." He says, his thumbs rubbing your cheekbones gently. "You won't corrupt me Feyd..." You say in a whisper. He lets out a heavy breath before slamming his lips onto yours. His kiss wasn't gentle or loving... It was hungry and full of lust and desire. His kiss was rough and bruising but you liked it.

As he kissed you his teeth scraped along your bottom lip before he bit down until you bled. You let out a groan as he suckled your bottom lip and pulled back. "I want you. Now." He says before lifting you up so he can rest you on the floor. He crawls on top of you and kisses you once again. As he kissed you he licked the wound on your lip before pulling back so he could kiss your neck. He kissed your neck, your shoulders, then he went down to your collarbone.

He lifted up your dress and kneeled in front of you. Next thing you know you hear the sound of your panties being ripped off your body and thrown aside. You were aching for him too, he could see it. Especially since your core was practically dripping for him. He licked his lips and smirked at you. You blushed and pressed your knees together but he quickly growled and pushed your knees apart.

"No." He says in his raspy tone of voice. "Don't you dare." He hisses. In the blink of an eye, you felt pleasure soar through you as he buried his face deep into your core. "Oh god!" You cried out as he licked over your clit before diving his tongue deep inside you. His hands gripped your thighs and you were sure he'd leave bruises behind. Your back arched and you made fists into the skirt of your dress. You cried out his name and he growled in response which caused a shockwave of pleasure to vibrate through your body.

His nose pressed against your clit as his tongue dove in and out of you. You moaned and your legs shook as you felt the knot in your stomach about to come undone. You couldn't believe how skilled he was with his tongue... And you couldn't get enough.

You let out a cry of pleasure as you came undone around his tongue. When he milked all the pleasure out of you he pulled back with a grin on his face. Your face was flushed and your breathing was heavy. He crawled on top of you and got close to your face, "You're stunning." He says in a low tone of voice. "Especially when you're writhing in pleasure." He whispers. He then leaned down and kissed you. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue which was arousing.

He knew it was your first time and that he was going to be your first. That turned him on but also worried him slightly. He didn't want you to be hurt, which is why he was so distant with you in the first place.

He pulled back. "I don't think I can be gentle with you." He says. "I don't want you to be gentle with me." God... That sentence drove him completely insane. He quickly pulled down his pants to show his erect cock. You gasped at his length and he smirked. He smashed his lips onto yours again and you felt his tip at your entrance.

You thought maybe he'd be slow at first... Especially since you can tell he was worried about hurting you but instead... He shoved himself fully inside of you, not giving you time to adjust to his length. You gasped loudly in his mouth and gripped his shoulders.

But he had some restraint to not pound you into the ground so he moved in and out of you at a decent pace. Your legs shook and moans and whimpers escaped your lips. "So fucking good..." He growled into your ear.

"You're taking me so well my dear..." He says. His words make your heart flutter and your stomach curl into knots. You let out a whimper and it drove him on further. He began to snap his hips against yours, his tip hitting that sweet spot inside of you. You moaned loudly and your nails dug into his back, drawing blood. He let out a groan then a laugh. You felt yourself getting closer and he could feel it as you grew tighter around him.

He gripped your hips and began pounding into you. You let out one last cry of pleasure before feeling that wave of pleasure course through your body again. But he didn't stop. He kept pounding into you which made whimpers and mewls escape your lips as you were so sensitive. He felt himself getting close and the thought of breeding you and you carrying his heir made him get closer and closer to the edge.

You knew he was getting close and you stared up at him with wide eyes. "Feyd..." You whisper and he knows what you are about to say. He stops for a moment. The thought of pregnancy scared you... But also intrigued you.

"It's okay..." He says. "I'll take care of you." He smirks. You nodded and he leaned down to bite your neck again before continuing to pound into you. It didn't take long before he came deep inside of you. You both laid there panting and heaving before he lets out a chuckle and leans down to kiss your shoulders, neck, and cheeks.

"You're perfect..." He hums.

"I'll never neglect you again." He says before placing a kiss on your lips.

I TAKE REQUESTS :)

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Warnings: depictions of blood/blood kink.

Mean Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

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Miguel isn't the type to ever be smitten. He's not the kind to stare after some pretty girl that gives him eyes, and he's not the kind to flirt around. Ever. And he was pretty sure you were going to be just another of the many spiders he's worked with.

You're not. He's head over heels for you.

Funny, witty, persistent. You take no shit from anyone. Not even from him. You've never been afraid of him, when he snaps or yells or makes his usual snarky comments, you don't even blink. You cross your arms, level his gaze, shift your weight to one of your hips and call him out. Calm and collected, your voice full of authority and confidence, and it always manages to shut him up. He'll purse his lips and turn away from you. Then you know you've won.

Not today.

Today, you walked away first. He yelled at you in a fit of rage even though the issue hadn't even been your fault.

"Miguel. Take it easy,” you tried to calm him down. “We'll fix this. We always do.”

“The fuck would you know? All you do is make more of a mess.”

“No. I don't. I'm here to help.”

He scoffed. “Help? You're useless. All you ever do is annoy everyone around you. No one stands you.” His eyes had met yours and he'd snarled, “Everyone hates you.”

And you knew it wasn't true. But it still hurt. You'd clenched your jaw, eyes narrowing at him. And then you turned around and walked away.

No one saw you the rest of the day.

Guilt has been eating at him all day. He's in his bedroom, pacing from one side to the other, hands tangled in his hair, sharp teeth digging into his lower lip.

“Fuck,” he growls at himself. He doesn't want to, but he's going to do it anyway.

You're sitting on your bed, a cigarette between your fingers. You exhale the smoke slowly, wiping away a tear that rolls down your cheek.

A portal opens in your room and you sigh. You're expecting Peter to show again, fully intending on comforting you again.

Instead, Miguel shows. When you see him, surprise rushes through you, but you're quick to mask it.

“Took a wrong turn, did you?” you say flatly. You take a drag from your cigarette and he frowns.

“Didn't know you smoked,” he mumbles, not waiting for an invitation. He steps closer to you and sits beside you on the bed.

You hum.

He swallows his pride. “That's not good for you, sabes. It'll kill you.”

“Yeah, thanks, dad,” you spit. “Is that what you came here to do? Point out all my mistakes and tell me how I'm gonna die?”

He sighs. “I'm trying to apologize, kid.” That stuns you into silence. “I...overstepped.”

“Understatement,” you mutter, putting your cigarette out.

He huffs silently. “This is fucking ridiculous,” he sighs. “Look. I didn't mean what I said. I was...upset. You-you know how I get when things don't go my way. And it...It was a low blow. I'm sorry.”

You blink at him. “Say that again?”

He throws you a glare, but sucks it up. “I'm sorry,” he says between clenched teeth. “I didn't mean it, alright.” He huffs a thick sigh, looking away from you, his gaze focused straight ahead. “And it's not true anyway. It was a cheap lie.”

You smile slightly, nudging his shoulder with yours. “I know that. I'm too much of a likeable person.”

He turns to look at you, that sharp gaze making you freeze. Your breath hitches, mouth inching open, and his eyes fall to your lips.

You swallow, drawing his eyes to the dip of your throat. He meets your gaze.

“Miguel...” Your voice is a soft, quiet sound. A low purr that makes his blood rush south.

“Ven acá,” he growls, huge hands moving to cup your face. He pulls you closer, kissing you roughly, sharp canines poking your lower lip.

You gasp, palms pressing to his chest. He kisses you rough, hungry, like he's been aching for you all this time.

His hand slides from your cheek to your neck, down your arm to your waist. He tugs you closer, your leg pressing against his.

Your hand finds one of the buttons of his shirt and starts fiddling with it. He smirks against you, hands moving to your hips to drag you onto his lap.

He makes a low, contented sound against your lips when your clothed core rubs against his hard cock. He slides his tongue into your mouth, tasting the cigarette you'd been smoking.

Your hands hold onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin slightly. Almost instinctively, your hips start grinding on his, a whine leaving you.

He grunts slightly, starting to guide your movements in small circles, your clit rubbing against the thick tip of his cock, making you jerk in his grasp.

“Princesa,” he hums, “let me make it up to you.”

You meet his gaze. His pupils are blown wide, eyes darkened with lust. You don't even have to _think_ about it.

“Alright,” you say. “As long as you don't leave me waiting.”

He chuckles lowly. His hand moves to your thighs, thumbs caressing the inside of your thighs, inching higher until he's rubbing your cunt through your jeans.

You exhale softly, swallowing hard. He pops the button open, unzips your jeans, his knuckles grazing against your soaked folds.

You quiver on top of him. “Miguel.” It's a soft sigh, a breathless plea for more.

He dips his mouth into the crook of your neck. His tongue is warm, wet as it drags over your pulse.

He lifts you slightly, helping you out of your jeans before pulling you back onto his lap. His rough fingers caress you through your panties, gathering your slick until his fingers are dripping with it.

He raises his fingers to his lips, licks your arousal off. You blush as you watch, a wave of desire crashing over you and flooding your senses. He can barely contain himself at your taste.

He wants to toss you onto the bed, bend you over it and fuck you hard and fast. He wants you on top, wants to make you bounce on his cock until you're crying with ecstasy. He wants to tie you up, watch you squirm as he makes you come over and over and over, making sure you feel nothing but pleasure.

He pulls your panties aside, his digits quick to find your clit. You barely have time to react when he's already rubbing the nub in tight circles, his sharp teeth dragging over your jaw.

You whine, hips bucking, thighs tightening around his hips. “Fuck,” you hiss, eyes shut tight.

“I'm sorry, princesa,” he says. “Didn't mean to make you feel bad. Never meant to hurt you.” He nibbles your shoulder, his fingers pulling away from your clit. He tugs your panties and you lift your hips to take them off. Instead, he holds you down against him and tears your panties off.

You gasp at the sound of the thin fabric tearing, and he chuckles. “Después te compro más, princesa.” I'll buy you more later. “Don't worry about it.”

You nod. “Yeah, alright.”

He considers throwing the ruined panties aside, but he ends up tucking them in the front pocket of his jeans. He knows he's going to find a bunch of uses for it on those late nights he can't fall asleep.

He runs his fingers up your slit, spreading your folds and tracing your slick entrance with his middle finger. You shiver and he digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“Princesa,” he groans, “look at how wet I've got you. You pretty, pretty thing...” He kisses your jaw, sharp teeth grazing your skin. He slides his thick middle finger into you, feeling your soft walls clench around him.

You moan softly, a breath leaving your lips. Your nails dig into his shoulders, a shaky exhale escaping you. “Miguel,” you say quietly, beginning to move your hips against his hand. “Ahh...”

He slides a second finger into you and grunts at the sound you make. He curls his fingers, pressing against your g-spot and making you whimper. His thumb catches your clit, drawing neat circles on it.

“Princesa, there's something I wanna teach you,” he says against your shoulder. “Want to make you feel something new.”

“Yeah?” you question, breathless.

You can feel him grin against your skin. “Has anyone ever made you squirt?”

You shudder. “No,” you reply, eyes fluttering shut. “Never.”

Miguel smirks. “Then it'll be my pleasure to teach you, princesa.”

You shiver, whimpering lowly. His fingers touch every right spot, with the perfect pressure and rhythm.

He pulls his face back a little so he can see you, his eyes watching your every reaction. He admires the way you tremble, your plump lips open as moans and whimpers leave you.

His eyes glisten with a predatory lust that has you shivering. And then he kisses your mouth, hard and hungry, almost bruising your lips with his. He licks you, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you.

You whine softly, legs quaking, and he moans lowly, a deep rumble in his chest that makes your arousal spark.

He slightly grazes your lips with his sharp canines, making you gasp, and the sound sends an animalistic heat through his body. Almost involuntarily, he bites your lower lip, hard, not only bruising the soft flesh, but also drawing a little bit of blood.

You hiss at the sensation, the pain adding to the endless flow of pleasure within you. He licks at your blood, groaning at the taste of it.

You move a hand from his shoulder to the hair at the back of his head, tugging at the soft locks there. He growls out a moan, a sharp breath leaving him. “Princesa,” he says lowly, as if in warning.

You whine in response, your hips beginning to stutter against his hand. You can't breathe right and you're trembling almost violently. You can feel your orgasm nearing, growing within you like a balloon of warmth low in your stomach.

He can tell you're close. His eyes shine as he watches you, his cock twitching as your velvet walls clench around his fingers.

“Come on, princesa,” he says lowly, leaning closer to your ear,licking your earlobe. “You can do it for me, yeah? You can come for me, can't you?”

You nod, moaning. “Yes...Mhmm!”

“Muy bien, princesa,” he praises, eyes darkening. “Almost there, aren't you?”

You whimper, trying to reply. But the sensation within you is dizzying, stupefying. Your orgasm grows closer and closer, making your every moan nothing more than a pathetic little whimper.

And suddenly a new sensation takes over you, growing deep in your womb and spreading to the rest of your body.

“Miguel—” You don't get the chance to say anything else to him. Your body shivers and your orgasm is suddenly dragging you under, your eyes fluttering shut.

He gasps softly as you come, your body shaking as you squirt onto him. He can't glance away, can't stop moving his fingers. He just keeps going, stuck in a trance as he watches your arousal gushing all over him.

You whimper when the pleasure becomes too much, one of your hands racing to grab onto his wrist weakly.

“Miguel, 's too much.”

He stops his movements then, eyes rising to yours. “Oh, princesa,” he says, voice rough and deep. “You did so well. So good, cariño.” He pulls his fingers out of you, licking them clean as you watch.

You lean towards his ear and whisper, “Miguel, please, fuck me.”

He shudders as your breath caresses the skin of his neck. “Say it again,” he orders quietly.

You grin. “Miguel, fuck me. I want you inside of me. Need your cock in me.”

“Dios,” he grunts, eyes shutting as his cock jerks in his pants, eager. “Esa boca tuya, princesa...Tienes carita de ángel y aun así...” That mouth of yours, princess...You have an angel's face and yet... “Capable of being so, so dirty. It drives me fucking crazy, princesa.”

He picks you up, placing you face down on the bed, one of his hands on your hip while the other one pushes you down against the mattress.

You gasp, back arching as he teases your raw, soaked folds with a finger.

He keeps his eyes on your cunt before moving them to your ass. His hands splay over the soft flesh, kneading it and squeezing it before he delivers a soft slap to it. You whine and his lips curl into a slight smirk.

He undoes his pants eagerly, pushing his jeans off, his underwear falling away with them. His cock springs free, the tip glistening with precum. He's so hard, he can't believe the way you affect him. It's insane how easy it is for you to turn him on and make him forget about everything else.

He runs the thick head of his cock between your folds and you shudder, hips jerking away before pressing back against his in search of more.

He holds tight onto your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he slides his cock into you.

You mewl at the sensation, gummy walls stretching to their limit, your legs trembling as he fills you to the brim. You gasp softly when the tip presses against your cervix and then some. You clench your hands around the bed sheets, your eyes shut tight.

“Fuck,” Miguel groans, his eyes locked on your cunt and how his entire cock has sunk deep into you with so much ease. “Oh, princesa, you've no idea how much I've wanted this.”

You whimper in response, not really able to say or do anything else.

His thrusts start out slow, measuring how much you can take while giving you time to adjust to his size. But soon, when he feels you're wet enough and you're rolling your hips against his in a desperate plea for more, he starts going faster, harder.

Your entire body quivers with each thrust, the breath leaving your lungs accompanied by little whimpers. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he fucks you, and you're absolutely certain that you are going to pass out from the ecstasy.

“Princesa,” Miguel grunts, “I wanna try something else with you. May I?”

You nod, moaning out a squeaky, “Yeah,” as he keeps going.

He smirks, one of his hands leaving your hip to grab your hair and tug it hard, forcing your back to arch even more. He leans down to you, his chest against your back. You feel his lips on your shoulder, slowly trailing up to your neck, and then his teeth graze over your skin.

His sharp, sharp canines, send shivers down your spine. You shudder out a breath as he slightly bites you, the tip of his teeth digging into your skin.

He bites down a little harder, the pressure gradually increasing until his teeth sink into your flesh. You shudder, crying out as a shock of pain slices through you.

Miguel groans as blood starts flowing from you, its taste invading his senses. He licks your blood, reveling in the taste, and then he kisses the small wound he's inflicted.

You whimper, the pain adding to the pleasure and making your body shiver. You can feel the bliss within you growing into an unbearable entity within your womb, and you can't take it anymore.

“Miguel!” you whine, eyes fluttering shut, stars dancing behind your eyelids. “Miguel! I-I can't—! Fuck!”

“Shh,” he coos. “It's okay, princesa. Respira.” Breathe. “You're almost there.”

You cry out, biting down on the duvet to keep yourself quiet. Still, your little sounds echo in the room, growing louder as you reach your release.

Your orgasm tears through you, destroying whatever little was left of your composure. You shudder violently, body falling limp against the bed.

Miguel gasps as your cunt tightens around him, your arousal gushing out onto his cock. He keeps his hands on your hips, holding you up as your legs falter and give.

He thrusts into you a couple more times and then he comes, spurting his load deep into your pussy. You mewl weakly at the sensation, truly fucked dumb, and you can't do anything but feel him fill you up.

He grunts softly, grinding his hips against yours lightly before pulling out.

The two of you stay there for a moment, breathing heavily, bodies shaking from the shared effort. And then Miguel's quickly taking care of you.

He helps you onto your bed, laying you down gently and pushing your hair out of your face. He cleans you up with a towel, gathering your combined release with the soft material before tossing it in the laundry basket. He helps you into his shirt and he slides a pair of clean panties onto you.

Then, he lies beside you, his fingers tracing your skin, his eyes stuck on the way his shirt is too big for you because he's huge.

You cuddle up against him, your nose nuzzling into his chest. He smiles softly. “Am I forgiven, princesa?” he asks quietly, caressing your jaw.

You smile up at him, sleepily and pleased. “Yes. You absolutely are.”

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Blog masterlist

[taurder]

Rooftop

top!dom!reader x bottom!miguel o'hara.

contains: exhibitionism kink, voyeurism kink, begging, biting, oral (character giving) degrading, dirty talk, anal, dumb-fucked, implied villain reader.

note: i'll continue to be self indulging until i get requests.

"just like that, yeah, yeah, mgghh– i love your mouth so much– yeah, fuck. you can go deeper, ah– c'mon" his small choking sounds make it more pleasant for you. seeing him on his knees in this dirty rooftop with scratches on his suit showing his chest, with your dick in his mouth and one of his hands touching his own covered member is just delightful.

You didn't even think in the fight you two had before, because the newest of your schemes didn't matter, or his sense of justice or the police sirens that were still on in the distance with several cop cars looking out for you. what mattered was that you were fucking his throat. there was fresh blood in your nails from scratches and punches you gave him, you probably were going to sport several bruises tomorrow along with a swollen lip and nose, but the only thought in each others minds was if you were close enough to cumming.

"that's it, that's ohmygod– yeah, swallow me whole, c'mon you want this. if you don't swallow it all i'm gonna cum all over your face and tits, slut" you made your words sound mean, awful, but you saw his enthusiasm to every single one of them. the way he rubbed harder into his member to touch himself over his suit, how his cheeks hollowed to suck you off better. "you'd like that, wouldn't you? fuck, of course you do, you love my cum so much" a whine from his throat made you swear too loud, jerking your hips on and on to make him swallow every inch of your cock.

"you're watching your fangs for me, yes? i can't fuck you later if you paralyze me, kitty" a half choked laugh was the only thing you could muster before you reached your limit. his tongue flicked before flattening entirely when he knew your climax was near and he allowed every ounce of semen to go directly into his throat as you pushed his head towards your pelvis. you grabbed his hair for your own balance, but he took it as a silent request of keeping himself there.

"fuck, fuck, just fuck. if i knew you liked my dick in your mouth this much i would've made you my cock warmer sooner" spider-man's body twitched and he closed his eyes tighter, still sucking a little to get every drop of your seed. "is that another idea you like? at this rate i could tell you i want to fuck you while the police and your spider-society friends watch us and you would consider it". he moaned, and by the way the hand that was rubbing his member stopped you could tell he had just cummed too.

you pushed his head away, swearing low when you saw a string of saliva connect from his swollen lips to the tip of your cock. "look at you, miguel. you want everyone to see you like this?" coming out of his daze he groaned a little in annoyance, but his face was hot. "i'd like to. make everyone see how much of a cock hungry slut you are" you came closer to him, offering your hand for him to stand up, and you immediately after took his glutes in your hands, getting him to jump a little so you could carry him, pushing his back into the wall where the door to the rooftop was.

"idiota" he hissed at the rough treatment, shutting down any other complain he had when you really grabbed at his ass, making sure your fingers would get imprinted there. he squirmed in your hold, ultimately pushing back at your hands. "este idiota quiere cogerte, precioso" you said back, already leaning to have a go with his neck, kissing and slightly biting as he reached with his right the other hand, touching some buttoms to deactivate his suit completely, groaning when a bite from you made his fangs instinctively go out. [t: this idiot wants to fuck you, gorgeous]

"naked in the wild.. anyone could see us from here, don't you think? maybe even a spider-person of yours doing a late night patrol.." you got the lube out of your pocket with ease, still assaulting his neck when your first two fingers went inside him. he pushed back again, so turned on with your words and the way you could carry him as if it was nothing that you could feel the heat radiating from his skin ".. they'd see the menacing miguel right here, being finger fucked by ol' bad me" he threw his head against the wall when you added a third finger. "dying to have me inside to fill him up and–"

"please just fuck me!" he growled, hands on your shoulders while he hopped up and down to reach deeper inside himself with your fingers, but it wasn't enough. "please, please, you can call me anything, please, just fuck me already" his desperate eyes looked foggy, as if he was near losing himself. and you did love to make him go dumb in your cock.

so you whispered more filth into his ears, pushing him into the wall, biting at his broad shoulders and calling him a slut for having such big tits, all shiny with the slight coat of sweat that covered his body. and he said yes to all of it, screaming and pleading with pretty whines as you guided your cock to his hole. you called him desperate, a bitch in heat, a poor excuse of a hero who truly just wanted to be dicked down by every strong man available that could handle him.

and just as he agreed to all of it you sank deep, letting go of his body and leaving him no other option but to take all of it in one go with no support. his eyes went up on his head, mouth hanging open as he taked what he craved. you carried him again, giving him only a little to adjust before you started thrusting into him with force, making his body go up and down (and he'll probably be mad at you for the red marks the uneven wall is leaving on his back but right now he doesn't care).

right now he can only wail and moan deep once you find his prostate, going on and on into that same spot just to watch his face show how much he loves this. his pecs are moving just as quickly as he tries to regulate his breathing in-between thrusts but it's just as hard as to keep his legs hooked into your body. "you want to open up, big boy, don't restrain yourself" you say and he nods in gratitude just before really letting go of his body. the hands that were touching your shoulders travel down to his own dick, not really jerking off but only putting his palms around it, holding them in position so your movements can also dictate the rhythm in which he touches himself. you feel more weight, but it doesn't stop you from going harder and faster into him. his legs keep opening up more and more, practically bouncing at your sides as you hook your arms under his knees, hearing him bitch about the momentary stop.

the new position allowed you to keep him open, and even if you had to really push him against the wall you don't think he cared as long as he was getting fucked. "you look so hot like this. quite a whorish hero, yes? maybe you should call up layla, make her record this whole thing". a moany sob comes from his throat and he closes his eyes, you could swear he's imagining everything you said while he lets out a line of ah, ah, ah, ah from his mouth. "that way you can watch it at your headquarters and jerk off to this. you could finger yourself so in our next fight you're nice and ready for me to just– fuck! you're getting really tigghhh.."

and just like that he cums, hard. squeezing your dick in the process, forcing you to reach your climax too, filling him up as he keens for the sensation, holding you close even if there's semen in both your chests and stomachs. you two breathe in and out some seconds in the same position before your dick twitches again inside of miguel, and you push in a little, swearing at the wet sound and the feeling of fucking your fresh cum out of him. you're about to pull out when his walls contract against you, spider-man's hips starting to move once more and as you look at his face you catch him opening up his eyes again, a lazy smile on his lips. he moans once more, trying to milk your cock again.

"you're insatiable, you know that?" you chuckle, thanking to yourself that you both sharing a short refractory period and a strong libido is a blessing. your schemes and his morals could wait a couple more hours.

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 9.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: Things are starting to go according to plan, but is it a good thing...or a bad thing teehee I don't feel as this is my best work, i have such a killer migraine rip but I do hope you guys enjoyed! I definitely skimped on the action scenes ;-; If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8

The city of Gützkow, Germany, was a small and slightly medieval town that was situated in the Northeast. It's population was considerably small with only about 3,000 people occupying the historical town. It was the perfect place to lay low in, but with small towns came lots of talk.

When newcomers or visitors would come, the word spread like wildfire. Thankfully, Natasha and Bucky knew how to blend right in. They were walking around in casual clothing, Natasha wearing a babushka tied beneath her hair, and Bucky was wearing a hat with sunglasses and a surgical facemask.

They were scouting; on the look-out for anybody that looked suspicious to them while blending in with the other tourists that were in the town. Their comm links sparked to life, making the two jolt slightly as Tony's voice came through.

"You guys have got to try the Jaegerschnitzel here at the hotel. I don't think it's got actual jaeger in it though, it's missing that 'why did i put this in my mouth' taste."

"Tony, are you seriously eating right now?"

Steve sounded annoyed, and Tony replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry that I'm a hungry growing boy, cap. Not everyone can be all muscles and conditioned like you."

T'Challa's annoyance rang loud as he hissed through the comm links.

"Would you both get it together? We're on a mission, not vacation."

Natasha muttered, hiding it behind her hand as she coughed slightly.

"You're telling me."

As they walked, Bucky could see a group of men walking out of an alleyway; wearing mostly black and looking as if they were looking for something or someone. Bucky stated as he looked over at Natasha to look as though he was deep in conversation.

"Got company at 12 o'clock. 6 EC's. I can't tell if they're armed."

Steve hummed in response.

"Let's assume they are. Do we have a visual on Rollins?"

"No. He doesn't seem to be with them."

T'Challa's voice came over the comms again, saying as the wind whipped past his mic.

"He is probably lying low so he doesn't get recognized...or doesn't get caught on camera."

Natasha then observed, watching as they grabbed a few take-out boxes and began to walk down the street.

"Seem to be on food delivery for today. Let's see where they're servicing."

Bucky and Natasha began to move slowly, inconspicuously following the men, and they cut behind an alleyway to walk on the opposite side of the building so the group of men didn't notice them. From above, Bucky could see T'Challa soaring over the roofs, staying as low as he could so pedestrians didn't see him.

The men turned down a narrow alleyway, and their steps seemed to quicken. They unexpectedly when down a flight of steps into a door that was situated in the side of the building. Bucky frowned, and Natasha hummed.

"This must be where Rollins has been hiding...right underneath everyone's nose."

Tony then cut in, asking.

"So, what's the plan? You wanna just...knock on the front door?"

"Tony, do not."

Steve hissed with an annoyed tone, and Tony sighed before he dropped down right behind the group of men.

"Sorry, I have an appointment that I just can't miss. You understand, right?"

Steve began to berate the man as Tony engaged the group, knocking them out one by one, and Bucky couldn't help but to glare into the eyes of the Iron Man mask.

"Really? You couldn't let Natasha and I do this? Rollins might know that we're here now."

"Guess we better hurry then. Hop to it, gang, we've got a mystery to solve."

Natasha snuck in first, carefully and quietly neutralizing guards that were in the hallway, and Bucky came in behind her and went through the doorway. The two of them began to engage four guards that were in a common area of the basement.

While Bucky harshly head-butt one of the agents and knocked them out, Steve's shield came flying into the stomach of the other, effectively incapacitating them. Bucky glanced back to see Steve standing in the doorway in his suit, glaring at Tony as he caught his shield.

"Tony, you were supposed to wait on the other side of the building in case they had an escape route."

"I thought Mufasa could handle it."

T'Challa hissed with disdain into his mic.

"I am a panther, not a lion!"

"Okay, does Kitty Claws work?"

Bucky just groaned and declared.

"Can we please focus? Steve and I will go down the left hallway, you and Natasha can go down the right. T'Challa can watch the south exit while Clint watches the North exit."

Steve then frowned, asking.

"Wait a minute, has anybody heard from Clint?"

Suddenly, there was a high-frequency interference that made everyone clutch their ears, and Clint's apologetic voice came over the line.

"I am so sorry, everyone, I couldn't figure out how to get my hearing aids to connect to the server. No movement so far, nobody's gone in nor out, but I have it covered."

Natasha couldn't help but to snort and Tony shook his head.

"I told you that I could update your ears for you."

"I'm not interested in being able to hear you 24/7 Stark, but thanks for the offer. I'm turning my ears down now."

Clint went quiet, and Steve instructed.

"Let's get a move on. The quicker we get this done, the better."

The group split up, and Bucky and Steve began to carefully go down the hallway. Bucky's ears were straining, listening for anybody that might be in the rooms on either side of the hallway, and Steve approached the door at the end of the hall. From within, Bucky and Steve could hear a man speaking that sounded a lot like Rollins.

He gave Bucky a look before nodding, and he kicked the door in with a grunt. The door splintered and came flying off of the hinges, and Bucky raised his gun, glaring down his sight at the empty room. There was a recorder propped up against a microphone, and Steve frowned when Bucky got a haunted look across his face.

"What is it, Bucky?"

"The trigger words...they're reciting her trigger words!"

Steve looked grave and he immediately called within his comm link.

"We got an emergency. Rollins isn't here, but he's got a device broadcasting the soldier's trigger words. We need to get back to Wakanda immediately!"

Tony's voice came over the comm link, sounding slightly out-of-breath.

"A bit busy, Cap! We've got a bunch of hostiles. No sign of Rollins yet either!"

Bucky slid behind the desk, crushing the recorder, and he stated.

"Fuck, they implanted some type of advanced radio within the neural tissue of the soldier's brain that's seemingly undetectable from CT and MRI's. It says that it's engineered to emit controlled radio waves, operating on low-frequency electromagnetic waves that interact with the brain's electrical signals."

Tony hummed after a moment of grunting and huffing.

"It's basically like a small speaker. Whatever they want the subject to hear, they can relay to them through that chip."

Steve instructed.

"We need to get to Wakanda immediately. Tony, can you get us there quickly?"

"I can't get us there in enough time without a quinjet or unless I go alone."

T'Challa called through the mic with urgency.

"We have a way. If you are not with me within the next two minutes, I am leaving without you!"

Steve and Bucky began to jog as fast as they could to T'Challa's location where a Royal Talon Fighter was hovering and being piloted by Okoye. Clint was inside as well, and a moment later, Tony and Natasha arrived. They all jumped into the jet, and T'Challa exclaimed.

"Go!"

-SHURI-

She didn't know what had happened. It had been peaceful in the lab as Shuri ran some more programs to further break down HYDRA's programming when all of a sudden, the digital representation of the soldier's mind began to pulse with red light. The soldier had reacted physically as well, clutching their head and screaming.

Within real time, Shuri watched as her safeguards were destroyed and the whole brain went completely red. When the soldier stopped screaming, Shuri was horrified to watch as she turned around, and the Winter Soldier was back.

Shuri exclaimed to the other scientists that were in the lab to evacuate before initiating a lockdown on the lab. The soldier had wasted no time, bounding across the lab and throwing lab equipment out of her way before she began to punch the door. There was a energy barrier that was installed in the door, repelling her punches.

However, the barrier was weakening with every punch, and Shuri began to curse in Xhosa before calling her brother. With no time wasted, T'Challa answered the call.

"Shuri! They have some sort of chip installed in her brain that is like a speaker. You must get away from her! The Winter Soldier has been activated!"

"How is that possible? I scanned her brain completely! There's no way I wouldn't have noticed!"

T'Challa clicked his tongue loudly, replying.

"They made it with the intention of it never being found. Stark said it's within her neural tissue."

Shuri cursed again as the woman slammed against the barrier again, shattering it before she began to punch at the door again. Shuri watched as the door began to bend, and Shuri stood up, members of the Dora Milaje standing around her.

"Evacuate the Citadel! Protect the people!"

"We can see the Citadel. Hold on, Shuri!"

The lab door suddenly flew off of the hinges, and as the kingdom went on lockdown, the lights flickered. The soldier stalked out of the doorway, and Shuri stood protectively with her vibranium gauntlets readied.

"Isithunzi, please stand down! I don't want to hurt you!"

The woman did not respond, marching towards her, and Shuri shot her gauntlets, the soldier flying backwards and skidding on the ground. Shuri frowned, calling again in Russian.

"Отойди, солдат!"

The soldier faltered for a moment, but she stood up with an angry sneer on her face. As she walked, the feeling of dread filled Shuri, and the Dora Milaje immediately began to engage.

Despite the soldier's weakened state, she still fought as if she was in prime condition. Dodging spears and swinging her fists, the soldier was a beast.

There was no other way to describe the way the soldier fought. She was calculated and cold with her movements as she engaged the Dora Milaje.

She threw one of the women into another, letting out a roar of frustration, and Shuri exclaimed.

"Do not hurt her! Try to incapacitate!"

The Dora Milaje immediately changed their approach, and though they were coordinated and quick, the soldier seemed to anticipate every move that they made.

Once the Dora Milaje were taken down, the soldier began to advance towards Shuri. Shuri stood at the ready, a bead of sweat running down her temple.

As the soldier advanced, the wall to her left suddenly exploded, Iron Man tackling the woman straight through the opposite wall. Shuri gasped as T'Challa and the Avengers came barreling into the room. The king ran to Shuri, asking her.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, but our walls are!"

T'Challa shook his head before he quickly yanked the two of them out of the way of a stray gurney; glass shattering and the bed creating sparks as it slid across the ground. Natasha came barreling through the hole, and she groaned softly once she stopped sliding on the ground before looking up at Shuri.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to have an extra pair of those gauntlets, would you?"

Shuri shook her head, shrugging.

"Only the prototypes."

Natasha huffed, and Clint came to her side, checking her over before shaking his head and grabbing an arrow that was glowing blue.

"I need you guys to give me an open shot!"

Within the lab, the soldier was currently being crowded and held down by Steve and Bucky, her feet kicking and teeth gnashing as she tried to escape. Tony slapped a collar onto her neck, and when the two super soldiers let her go, Clint took his shot and electrocuted the soldier. The electricity triggered the collar, and harsher voltage began to course through the soldier's body.

The soldier screamed before dropping, convulsing on the ground, and Bucky wiped his nose of blood. Tony's mask slid off, and he shook his head.

"I feel like that could have been a lot worse. I think even you pack a harder punch than she did, MC 1."

Bucky huffed, muttering with an exasperated look.

"She hasn't been properly fed and hydrated in a long time, so she's not exactly in prime condition. If she had been, this would have been a lot worse."

Steve looked over at Shuri as the princess stepped through the door with a grave expression while T'Challa looked angry. Steve immediately apologized, guilt running deep within his mind.

"I'm sorry, Shuri, I didn't know."

Shuri raised her hands, shaking her head.

"It's not your fault. I feel so stupid that I did not think about the possibility of them installing a physical failsafe, not just a mental one."

T'Challa was silent, and Okoye looked livid. The woman stayed quiet, however, and Natasha said as Clint walked her into the lab.

"To be fair, it seems like relatively modern technology that they could have installed recently. We know that she's been active since 1985, and to my knowledge, they didn't have that type of technology then."

T'Challa then decided, crossing his arms.

"Then let us get this lab cleaned up so we may locate the chip and extract it. We must play it safe as we don't know if Jack Rollins still has another communicator."

The Citadel was released from lockdown, and the lab lit up. Shuri opened up a hologram of the soldier's brain, pointing at the large portions of red that had showed up again.

"Her activation completely rendered my safeguards useless. What I can do is reinstall them, begin to locate the chip and extract it, and then begin rehabilitation once more."

T'Challa couldn't help but to say.

"Is rehabilitation still possible?"

"Yes, it is."

Shuri looked stern, and T'Challa just sighed. Tony glanced around the lab and began to ask Shuri about the different equipment that she had while the soldier was placed onto the cryostasis pod bed. Bucky moved back after strapping her in, and Steve shook his head.

"I should have known."

Bucky gave Steve an incredulous look, his blue eyes wide with exasperation as he looked at the upset Captain.

"How could we have known? I know HYDRA implanted trackers into every subject, but even I wasn't aware that they experimented with technology like this."

Steve had a forlorn look on his face, and Natasha spoke as Clint stood by, tilting his head as he looked at the soldier.

"Don't do that to yourself, Steve, none of us knew. Not even Shuri."

Steve looked defeated, and Clint hummed in thought as he gazed at the sleeping soldier.

"You know, she doesn't even look any older than 25."

His statement made Steve shake his head, and Bucky muttered as the wounded began to file in and begin medical treatment.

"Let's just figure out how to get that chip out."

-

STORY NOTES: Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Tony, T'Challa, and Clint all go to Gützkow, Germany, to locate Jack Rollins. While Bucky and Natasha are scouting on the ground, Clint and T'Challa are on the roofs. Steve is stationary on the opposite side of the town, and Tony is at a restaurant.

Natasha and Bucky spot a group of suspicious looking men that are carrying boxes of food, and they begin to follow them. They arrive at an entrance that is hidden within the alleyway, and Tony decides to engage immediately despite Steve's orders not to. Unable to wait, the Avengers begin to infiltrate the secret base. After engaging and incapacitating most of the agents, the Avengers split up to cover more ground.

Steve and Bucky arrive at a room at the opposite side of the building, and they discover that Rollins is nowhere to be found. However, they find that a voice recorder is playing the soldier's trigger words into a microphone. Despite crushing the device, the words have already been looping for an unknown amount of time. Bucky discovers that HYDRA implanted a chip into the soldier's brain that emits radio waves that translate into words; allowing HYDRA to remotely activate the soldier.

Upon finding this out, T'Challa calls Okoye to come to his location to pick him up and advises the Avengers to hurry, or he will leave them behind. In Wakanda, Shuri and the Dora Milaje are currently engaging the soldier after she has been completely reactivated. The soldier is able to disarm and defeat the Dora Milaje, but before she is able to begin engaging with Shuri, Tony breaks through the wall and attacks the soldier.

Natasha and Tony begin to engage the soldier, but the soldier is able to throw Natasha off and back out of the lab, in which Natasha asks Shuri if she has extra gauntlets that she could use. Inside the lab, Bucky and Steve arrive to give Tony backup, and they are able to detain the soldier.

Tony puts on a collar that delivers high-voltage shocks to incapacitate the soldier, and Clint activates it after shooting the soldier with an electrified arrow. Once the soldier is taken down and put in restraints, she is immediately put into cryostasis for the time-being.

Steve then apologizes to Shuri, but Shuri brushes him off and tells him that she feels stupid for not considering the possibility of HYDRA implanting a chip as a physical safeguard alongside the use of mind-control techniques. T'Challa suggests that they remove the chip as fast as possible, and the Avengers begin to administer first-aid while beginning to research how to remove the chip.

TRANSLATION:

Jägerschnitzel - An Austrian meal that is made with veal and a creamy sauce that is usually made with mushrooms, tomatoes, or by itself

EC - Military Lingo for Enemy Combatants

Isithunzi - Xhosa for Shadow/Shade

Отойди, солдат! - Stand down, Soldier!

TAGLIST: @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x

[silassinclair]

Say My Name

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Reader

CW// 16+ Content, Abduction, Guns, Yelling, Talk of Murder

Introduction (Optional to read)

Last night my life changed forever. My Father managed to get on the bad side of a wanted outlaw by the name of Maddox Graves. And that very same night that very same outlaw killed my Father in cold blood. I thought I’d be next but instead he bound my ankles and hands and threw me with him on the back of his horse. We’ve been riding for hours and I have no clue where this psycho is taking me. Maybe somewhere far away to do diabolical things to me. If that’s the case then I’d rather be dead.

“What’s on your mind princess? You were thrashin‘ and screamin’ a few hours ago. Where’d that fire go?” Graves turns his head slightly back to face me. But I look away. Being this close to him was the most uncomfortable I have ever been in my life. But I had to keep my arms around him as to not fall off the horse and break a bone. I need to be in top condition if I want to escape.

“Nothing…” I mutter. But that answer doesn’t seem to satisfy the greedy bastard. So he halts his horse with a gentle tug of the reins. For a psycho murderer criminal he’s nice to his horse.

“You hungry? Gotta piss or somethin'?” Even though he has a bandana covering his mouth I can tell he’s annoyed by the way his eyes wrinkle slightly.

“No! I’m fine..”

But I’m not fine. How could I be fine? This animal killed my Father and is taking me only God knows where! We've been riding through this desert for hours and it's almost sundown. I'm scared shitless of potential bandits and I'm literally starvi-

Growl~~~

"Your stomach is tellin' me otherwise sweetheart." I can practically hear the smirk on his stupid face.

Hugging myself I sigh in defeat. "I haven't eaten in over a day.. So of course I'm hungry. I just have no appetite."

Lies. I could eat a horse.

"Well you're lucky because look on ahead princess."

Moving my head up and to the side to see over his broad shoulders I see a town less than a mile ahead. I thank the lord in my heart and soul.

"Now don't go thinkin' you can run off and escape. You go to anyone for help and I'll shoot em' dead like your old man." He adds.

Well that dug deep. Scowling, I kick him in the shin causing him to hiss a low curse.

"Watch your mouth. You may be all big and bad but I'm not afraid of you. I won't let anyone disrespect my Father. Especially not the likes of you." I say. But Graves only furrows his eyebrows and crosses his arms. He hops off his horse and grabs me by the waist, pulling me down with him.

"Get off you mongrel!" "Silence that mouth of yours before I gag it!" He snaps, I immediately do as I say. This unpredictable gunslinger could kill me or worse in seconds. I shouldn't have said anything in the first place. My initial plan was too cooperate so I could escape but here I am blowing it. But it's hard because he pisses me off to kingdom come.

His hands are still on my waist as he pulls me closer and speaks, "Do you have any idea why you're alive girlie?"

I feel myself unwillingly do a full body shiver. His eyes were a dark brown but not a normal brown. Almost red due to the sun's setting light shinning down on us. He asked me a question but my throat can't conjure a reply. I only shake my head 'no' back and forth.

"It's because I think you're pretty, and I'd hate to waste a pretty lil' thing like yourself." He slurs. His rugged hands go lower, I can feel them. The fabric of my dress protects me from his direct touch but the violating feeling is all the same.

"So young and precious, you-" He pauses. "What's your name? I never got it."

What a dunce. I sigh and remove his hands from my waist, luckily he doesn't fight back.

"It's Y/n. Y/n L/n."

His eyes soften, but only barely. There's still a hunger behind them. "Y/n..." He tests the name on his tongue.

"I like that. But I like princess more. Sweetheart is a good one too. It matches that cute face o' yours. Or missy when you're bein' a bad girl." His hand goes under his chin as he lists off the stupidest pet names ever.

I deadpan and shake my head back and forth. Pinching my nose bridge I look over at the town in the distance.

"So aren't you gonna ask what my name is?" His sudden voice whispering in my ear and his fingers grazing my neck makes me physically jump and clamp my hand over my neck.

"D-Don't do that!" I shout and take in a deep breath. I'm probably a tomato right about now.

"And I already know your name." I scoff and cross my arms, turning away from him. But he walks around me to try and get me to face him, which I turn again and again after every attempt me makes.

"I wanna hear you say it though. Bet it'd sound real' sexy comin' from your lips." Grave's hands squeeze me around my biceps and lock me in place, leaving me to look no where else except for those devilish eyes of his.

Knowing him for the day I've been around him I know he won't relent. He'll keep me here until I give in.

Sighing I say his name. "Maddox Graves.."

It came out softer on accident. Maybe I'm exhausted. But looking at his concealed face I can see his wide eyes.

"Say it again." He whispers. His grip tightens. It hurts and I whimper in pain but his eyes still bore into mine.

"Maddox Graves." I say firmly. But he groans and shakes his head back and forth. A dissatisfied groan leaves him.

"No not like that! Say it how ya' said it before!" He whines, but he still sounds aggravated.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about..." I mutter and clench my teeth. He has the grip of a bear trap.

"Say it like a wife would! Say. my. name!" He snaps and jerks me forward. My eyes widen in fear at his outburst and I'm reminded that this is no normal man. He's a killer. A dangerous outlaw and the one who killed my Father.

But what he said has me confused. What does he mean by that? He must tell how confused I am because his grip loosens.

"Just... Say it like ya' don't despise me."

That's damn near impossible. But if I want to survive and get food in my stomach then I need to perform.

"Maddox." I say only his first name this time. Gently, I raise a hand and lay it over his that is on my arm. Both his hands drop and I hear his let out a long breath.

He says nothing but he turns away from me and hops onto his horse. His hand reaches for mine and I take it. He pulls me up but I nearly fall over. The control I have over my legs is lacking because of their bound state. Luckily he catches me with an arm.

"Easy now sweetheart. I don't want ya' gettin' hurt. After all, I know what I'm gonna do with ya now." He says in a low timbre that strikes fear into my core.

"Hya!" He shouts and his horse walks in the direction to the town ahead.

This unpredictable psycho... I'm at a complete loss here. What can I do? I'm hopeless! His behavior is nearly bipolar and he's a walking weapon. But now he has a plan for me? Whatever it is I don't want it...

[dearestaussiechannie]

⛧ Oh Darling ⛥ ― Song Mingi

Word Count: 1.7k Pairing: Song Mingi x GN!Reader Genre: Kinda angsty?? more yearning than anything- Warnings: I don't think there's really any warnings for this one besides maybe the fact that min bites reader and drinks their blood and petnames (Darling, Lamb) Authors note: HIII its been so long bbs !! this is vv loosely based on a dream bestie had and told me about bc I was in it- he told me "We had to find out and you asked Mingi 'if i was passed around blunt style... how many vampires could i take' and then Mingi said "Well if I was there, just one.' which is crazy !!" -bestie AND THAT WAS CRAZY TO MEEE !!!! so please enjoy !! <3

The rain hammered against the old windowpane, a relentless rhythm as wind outside howled against the exterior of the house. Inside, the air felt light, as if there wasn’t a heavy storm trying desperately to climb its way through the house to wreak havoc.

Inside, you were in the house's living room, sat in front of a large fireplace on a dark maroon chaise lounge, the aroma of firewood with the soft crackling noise of the burning bark filled the room. You were trying your best to focus on the book in front of you but as the night ticked by, it was getting harder to hold your eyes open. Without even realizing it, you’d slowly fallen asleep, the book falling as gently as it could to the floor.

Mingi had finally awoken, quickly stepping out of his room when he smelt the fireplace still burning this late. As he quickly made his way to the living room, his robe barely pulled on while turning the corner, he came to a full stop when his eyes land on you sleeping in his chair. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself before he felt his mouth suddenly run dry. The sight is almost too good to not walk over and take it all for himself.

Carefully, Mingi walked over to you, crouching down in front of you before putting his knees on the floor as he leaned closer to you, one hand on the couch and the other gently placed on your waist, giving it a soft squeeze before he mumbles under his breath. “You always smell oh so sweet, Darling..” 

The sound of his voice and cold touch slowly stir you from your sleep, opening your eyes to see his body practically swallowing you into him. Without even realizing how quickly you move, you’ve sat up, back now pressed against the arm of the lounge. “Mingi, you can’t just sneak up on people like that..”

“I’m sorry, Darling.. But it's quite hard not to sneak up on such a sleepy lamb..” He responds, the new position you've moved into leaving him close to your thighs, laying his heavy head against them as he looks up at you. He takes note of how his words make your ears and cheeks flush bright red, hearing your heart pounding in your chest even from this far away.

“Well.. maybe.. But I've asked you before to wake me before you get this close..” You mumble, looking away only to glance back when you hear his low chuckle, noticing how his eyes keep moving from your face to your neck. He must have woken up hungry and made his way directly to you. You straighten your back at the thought only for him to move as well, sitting on the lounge with you, hand still on your waist.

“Tell me, lamb.. How was your busy day, hm? Couldn’t help but notice how empty the house feels without you here and the sweet scent of your shampoo filling the hallway between our rooms.” He asks, hand holding your waist tighter as he leans his head down to your chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat, trying to force his mind to calm itself since he doesn’t want to just feed off of you then leave you alone.

“Well.. I finished my final today then had to go to work, which was an absolute nightmare.. One more lady yells at me over her latte not having enough foam or over the amount of ice in her drink I might just lose it.” You tell him, looking down at him and running your hand through your hair to brush it back from your face. You wondered why he asked you this so often lately since your ‘mortal concerns and issues’ never used to pique his interest.

“Well Darling, you know you could just quit that job. You know I’d have no problem supporting you financially, what else would I use this money for?” He mumbles before sitting up and slowly looking into your eyes, his dark pupils burrowing under your skin as his own way of trying to convince you to say yes, because he’d never tell you that he actually hates the smell of everyone on you when you come home.

“Min, for probably the 50th time, I won't let you pay for all of my things. You already let me live with you after everything that happened with Woo..” You mumble, looking away from him again as he sighs, if you were looking you’d have watched a small flick of anger in his eyes before rolling them while laying his face against your neck. Neither of you like to talk about what happened with Wooyoung since it was traumatic for you and a source of frustration for Mingi.

“Fine, lamb.. I won’t push it further.. May I ask you a favor?” His voice was soft as his nose brushed against one specific spot on your neck, giving away what he wanted from you. You slowly change how you’re sitting on the lounge, giving him a little more room as you slowly slip your shirt down your shoulder to give him more room without the fabric in the way. Mingi hums in appreciation, gently brushing his nose against you again, before sinking his teeth carefully into your neck.

You wince at the feeling, not quite used to the feeling as your eyes close, hands balling into fists as you turn your head. Mingi tries to hold onto his self restraint as he slowly drinks you in, humming to himself, hands holding your waist tighter before letting one move to your lower back, pulling your chest closer to his, enjoying the feeling of your fast heartbeat against his almost invisible one.

As time keeps ticking by, you feel yourself starting to get light headed, tapping his shoulder. “Min.. I'm getting dizzy.. Need a minute..” You mumble to him, trying to sit up again only for him to hold onto you tighter, not stopping as your heart starts beating harder to replace the blood he was taking from you. This only makes you try to pull away harder, whining as he sinks his teeth in again. 

Mingi can’t get himself to calm down as he keeps chasing his thirst, holding you tighter as you wiggle in his hold. He knows he needs to stop but he can’t, he knew this would eventually happen and he’d destroy himself or you because of it. You keep wiggling against him before finally grabbing a handful of his hair to pull him away from you enough to get yourself off of the lounge, quickly rushing away to your room to bandage yourself up and lock yourself away for the night, leaving Mingi alone in the living room.

Quite some time had passed since that moment and you've hardly even seen each other in the house due to your busy schedule and him keeping himself locked to his room or going out during the night. After yet another long and busy day, you’ve finally made it back home, making quite a ruckus as you make your way inside. You couldn’t help but think back to the last time Mingi fed from you and how he shouldn’t be going this long in between which also makes you remember the look of fear he probably saw on your face. 

You were sat in the living room again, trying to decompress from work since today had been a rough one, causing you to get home so close to midnight. Mingi used to meet you at the front door when you came in this late to make sure you were okay, the memory making you frown slightly as you removed your heavy boots and hoodie, soaking in the heat from the fire you assume Mingi lit. 

Slowly warming up by the fire, you hear a door open which pulls your attention to the hall, locking eyes with Mingi as he emerges. “Hello, Darling.. Are you alright, you’ve come in quite late.” He mumbles in your direction before slowly looking away, his heart pounding. He wants to walk over and just fall to your feet and mutter his apologies over and over again but he’s afraid that he might lose control again or you might push him away.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just had a long day at school and even longer at work..” She says, trying to look at him only for him to move further back into the hallway. “Mingi? Are you headed back to your room already?” you ask as you slowly stand to step towards him, not wanting this moment to end so quickly. 

“Yes lamb, I’ll be returning back to my room for now, I'll be back out later in the night. Please go back to your fire and relax.” His response was cold as he shut the bedroom door. This deterred you from following him, moving back to the seat by the fire to warm up just as he said, slowly drifting off to sleep. 

Mingi came back out of his room a few hours later, finding you curled up in the chair by the fire, sighing to himself as he slowly walked over to wake you to go get in your bed. He tried to shake you, speak to you even but was getting no response, quite shocked by how deep in sleep you were. Carefully, he lifted your small frame into his arms, heading towards your bedroom. As he laid you down, your hand grabbed onto his shirt, face contorting into a pout as you mumbled to him in your sleep. “Don’t go.. please..” Your voice filled the room before you’d fallen back into your unconscious state.

“Oh Darling.. Don’t ask me to stay..” He mumbles back, sitting down at the foot of your bed, head in hands as he thinks to himself about the many moments the two of you have had. He hasn’t felt like this in years, centuries even, why did that have to change with you? You were just someone who was brought to his doorstep by a friend that had fucked up. Someone he’s supposed to protect, not fall in love with. Would he even call this love? The way he just wants you to stay in the house, never leaving his side. It felt more possessive, controlling…not endearing.

©️ dearestaussiechannie, all rights reserved. Taglist: (to be added, comment or message me♡) @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @tiredlittlevirgo

[grilledbroccolli]

Vampire!reader is craving Dan Heng

Description: Fem!Reader who is secretly a vampire but refuse to feed on human. Dan Heng to the rescue.

Warning: vampire, blood, reader forgetting about taking of herself

You have been starving yourself. Fresh blood is scarce on a train in the middle of space. Since joining the nameless in their travels, you have not told anyone about your thirst for blood nor did you plan to feast on your new friends. After arriving on a new planet, you always excuse yourself to be alone to search for live animals. Blood of animals are the only blood you dare feast on. Being a half blood, you always felt bad for hurting innocent humans. You would go out and hunt for wild animals for their blood. Once you're full, you would store the rest in blood bags for later consumption. But right now, you underestimated how long the journey would be to this new planet, you have already consumed all the contents in the blood bags you have prepared before boarding the train. Even though you can still eat human food, but it won't fill you up.

The crave for blood is getting stronger by day. All you ever did these days is stay cooped up in your room to prevent yourself from hurting others. You only leave your room for the bathroom or to eat human food with your crewmates to prevent them from worrying about you. You know rumours of your kind is terrifying. It's true that many vampires do kill and feast on humans. You worry that once they find out about your secret, they would identify you as a threat to the whole Astral Express. You would feel guilty from time to time when you know you're a threat to your crewmates but still crave the family-like atmosphere they offer and also the smell of a crewmate. From the moment you met Dan Heng, he never left your mind. His face, his voice and his delicious scent is so addictive. The last time you crave human blood was the last time you were blood hungry which was when you were just a child. But craving on a specific human's blood is a first. His being made you agree to joining the nameless. To you, he smell like lotus flowers somehow. You avoided him the most during your hungers to prevent yourself from jumping on him like hungry lion. You believe that if you can keep your cravings on the down low, consume blood cautiously, you can keep your identity safe from the rest of the crew and from him.

Your crewmates starts to smell like a feast. Your nose were getting more sensitive these days. Then, the worse happened. Dan Heng cut his finger on a page of a book. The distinct metallic smell swarm into your nose when he just so coincidently decided to ask about what's wrong with you these days.

Knock knock, "Y/n? Are you in there?" Dan Heng ask in his usual cold tone. He thinks you're acting fishy these few day when you keep avoiding socializing and eat your meals in a hurry.

"Y- Yes! What's up?" You answer in hurried tone. The smell of an open wound is getting to your head.

"Are you ok these days? You've been acting weird."

"I- I'm fine! I'm a little busy now, can't talk." You answered while rushing to the furthest corner from the door to control yourself.

"Is it ok if I come in?"

"N- No! No! Please don't! I, uh, my room! Is a mess! Ya, a mess. I- I will..." The scent is starting to consume your mind. Drools start forming in the corner of your mouth. You tried so hard to breath in as less as possible. "I'm not feeling well. It's contagious. Please don't come in. I will tell you when I recover." You don't even realize your sentence is all over the place.

"Uh ok? Can I get you anything? Maybe some medicine?" Dan Heng starts to get worried for your wellbeing.

"No need for that. I have the meds. Thanks for worrying."

"Then, I'm gonna get going. Do text us if you need anything."

"Ya ya, sure sure." You pray for him to just leave.

Luckily he left after that. But of course, he did not forget to informed the crew about your wellbeing.

From time to time, March and Stella would knock on your door to ask how you're feeling. They haven't seen you out of your room since ever since Dan Heng came by your room that day. The whole crew is getting worried. Now that you have smelt raw, fresh human blood right from the vessels, you fear you will pounce on anyone that you see. They would leave your serving of the food at the door to make sure you are eating well even though you have long lost the appetite for it. Once you bring the food into your room, the lingering smell of your friends on the tray is the only thing that allows your stomach welcome the food into the system. But they will not last long in there. Your system would absorb the nutrients needed for your human side and then reject the rest. You would eat your meal when everyone's asleep so that you can leave your room to use the bathroom without encountering anyone. You pray everyday that the train will arrive on the new planet quicker so that you can quench your thirst.

Today, you lock yourself in your room, a blanket over your head, facing the corner furthest from the door. Thoughts of Dan Heng and how he would taste on your tongue is consuming your mind. You haven't slept last night and haven't showered in days. You just took the tray of food that Stella put on your doorstep a few hours ago into your room. You took a bite of the cold rice. Blegh! You gagged. You run to the door, unlocking it and flinging it open and sprint to the bathroom while sealing your mouth shut with a palm to prevent vomit spilling on the floor. You kneel down against the toilet bowl and start vomiting.

(Blegh-gh ugh)

You haven't eaten the whole day, making it more painful to vomit.

Suddenly, a pair of hands were pulling your hair back. Preventing them from getting into your face. Shit! The smell of vomit and the burn of the stomach acid at the back of the throat has distracted you from noticing someone approaching. You quickly stand up from the kneeling position to wash and gargle your mouth at the sink. You did not fail to pick up the scent of Dan Heng.

(Shit, shit, shit!) You thought. You hurriedly turn off the sink and fingers immediately pinch your nose shut. You face him who was behind you, handing you some tissue paper to wipe your face dry. You were slightly embarrassed to have him see you in a state like this. Cracked, pale lips, messy and clumped up hair, just vomited.

"...h-... hey, Hey!" Exhaustion and hunger is seeping into your system. "Hey! Are you alright?" Dan Heng ask with a face full of worry. He started to grab your shoulder, hoping to get your attention.

"Y- a! Yes I'm alright. Thanks for helping me." You started to panicked. (Too close! His scent, omg.) "You need to go. " You tried to shake off his grip on your shoulder but it did not budged.

"Y/n, what is wrong with you?! You just vomited. You are not alright at all." He is starting to get frustrated with you. He haven't seen you in days, neither did the other crewmates. And now that you just vomited in the middle of the night. He really couldn't help but get worried for you. These last few days, his mind is full of you. The last time he heard your voice, you sounded like you don't want him near you at all. He does not care for whatever others think of him, but you, you got him curious. Something about you is just so alluring and he couldn't put a finger onto why. Now that you rejected his help twice, he needed to know what is wrong with you, he need you to accept is help.

"Go! Please go." You go on your own. You ran away. He immediately grip your wrist and pull you back into the bathroom and slam the door shut. He grip both your wrist in one hand and lock it in place above your head.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what is wrong with you." His patient is running thin. He glare at your weak and sickly figure. Your faces just inches apart. You look away as you panic to how close he is to you. You are a shaking and a blushing mess under him.

"Be a good girl and look at me." Dan Heng demanded. You comply. He realized that your face is all red and sweats dripping down your forehead. You are panting, hard, and drool leaking from your mouth. He suddenly see your fangs that he failed to notice in the past, or at least they weren't this sharp before.

"A- are you a... vampire?"

(It's over. He found out.) You thought.

"I uh... uhm..."

"Is this what you want?" Dan Heng raise his right wrist to your mouth. No, this is bad, so bad. His smell is taking over your brain. You could no longer control yourself. You open your jaws larger as he move his wrist right where your fangs are. You puncture his wrist with them and close your lips around it.

"Ngh" Dan Heng sigh in pain as you drink his blood. He slowly release your wrists from his grip and pat your head, encouraging you to drink more. With your free hands, you grip his arm tighter and closer to your mouth like a beggar who haven't eaten in days.

"Slow, slow now. I'm all yours."

This is my first ever fanfic. I got so carried away writing this. I'm sorry for any error.

Part 2 out

[soraviie]

coming home tired.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader   ━ navigation

━ about: fluff! (maybe some angst you all know how it is)

━  pictures taken from Pinterest

━ lmao I don't like this. Anyway, Ice Age 1 and 2 absolutely peak entertainment

NAMJOON | The second the slippers are on your feet, you trudge to the bed and toss yourself face first into the mattress. With a bit of luck, you could suffocate yourself like this. A low whistle rises from up behind you and squinting with one eye open, you spot a sympathetic looking Namjoon standing in the doorway.

“That bad, huh?” he drawls and you groan at the mere mention of it.

“Don’t even remind me,” you plop your face back into a pillow where your voice can only barely be heard as a muffled whisper. “I’m seriously thinking of quitting.”

“You say that all the time,” he rolls his eyes to which you take some offence. With narrowed stare, you glare back at him, cringing at how palpable the sweat on your back is. 

“You’re supposed to be my boyfriend-”

“Supposed to be,” Namjoon scoffs just as if not more offended. “I am your boyfriend.”

“And boyfriends are supposed to be comforting when their partners are feeling down,” you scorned. “Not be snide. I swear you treat me as bad as Monie. We should both leave.”

“I treat you both well!” the volume of Namjoon's voice suddenly rises and you cannot help but wince as it hits against the pounding baseline of an oncoming migraine. Immediately, he forces his voice to a much quieter tone, a sound no more than a vague whisper whilst an indisputable shade of concern appearing in his eyes. 

“Is it that bad? Do you need to go on a sick leave?”

“No, no,” you wave him off, crawling off the bed with no meagre amount of difficulty. It wouldn’t exactly be the first time when “after a bit” has grown to be you drooling in deep sleep on the pillow, still fully dressed only to then wake up at 2 am incredibly hungry. “I’m just a bit tired, that's all.”

“You be careful, alright?”

Namjoon’s face still has a sort of worried film to it as though he’s caught between two possible options of how to make everything better and knowing him, he probably was.

“Do you want me to read to you?” 

“You hate it.”

“But I like you so…”

You try not to, however, a small smile still stubbornly worms its place onto your lips and it’s soon echoed on Namjoon's own expression. He outstretches his hand and it isn't long before you grasp it.

“Come on,” he throws his head towards that god awful hellscape of a seat that you detest so much but had no heart to tell as Namjoon had grown fond of it. “Let’s get your mind off things.”

Though there is a wolf-like whistle as you change out of the work clothes for which he gets a shirt thrown into his face, largely the evening is spent in civil spirits.

“How about we eat before?”

Instantly, your blood curdles and from where you’re perched on the end of the grey sofa, you throw Namjoon a deeply, deeply anxious glance. He doesn’t miss it and after once again rolling his eyes because damned if Kim Namjoon wasn’t a passive aggressive bastard, he wraps a precarious hand over your shoulders and grumbles —

“I didn’t cook anything myself. Don’t worry.”

“Thank god,” you sigh and get pinched in the side. 

Some would say it’s simple, almost boring but time with Namjoon, wanted or not, fair or unfair, was limited. Moments like these — with your back pressed against his side as you curl up onto the sofa, a leftover pizza laying in front was a luxury. He was rarely if ever at home and it seems that even he gathers as much as his lips seek out his beloved spot on the side of your temple and press a feathery kiss. Simple — yes but precious all the same and you couldn’t thank him enough for just being here. 

“Now where were we…” you mutter to yourself, haphazardly sorting through the pile of books laid like a fallout rubble on every surface nearby. Taking advantage of the bared skin of your back, the tips of his fingers softly graze along your spine, mutely inviting you to return into his hold.

"Why do you check out so many books if you never read them?" he grumbles.

"Why would I read them if I can have you do that for me?"

"Tyrant."

"I know you are but what am I?"

The sheer volume of his exasperated sigh is almost enough to wipe your tired state clean off.

"Behave," Namjoon warns lowly, letting his head fall back on the headrest. "Otherwise, I'll just put you to bed."

You give him an angelic smile but comply, offering the book of choice only to frown when he is too eager to grasp it. There's even a twinkle to his eye.

“A cliche of story,” you grouse underneath your breath, mocking the same words Namjoon had said after forcefully reading or as he insisted “surviving” the first chapter. “My ass.”

Nonetheless, save for a few laughs, there is not much that you talk about. There’s no need to share a conversation, just the feeling of his warm skin is enough to sate the void his absence left behind.  And with it, the stress slowly abates, unclenching its grip from you, sentence by sentence as Namjoon's voice cruises through the evening.

YOONGI | You don’t quite know how your jaw has not yet unhinged off your face, stretched to its absolute limits by the snake-like yawns but you’re thankful for it anyhow. Another one breaks out the second you’re over the threshold and that is what greets Yoongi instead of a smile or a single, coherent greeting. 

“You’re home early,” you point out, withering out quickly. So much so for reading a book or watching a movie, or tackling any amount of apparently never-ending chores.

“Yeah,” he shrugs off, seemingly unconcerned but those slanted, all too observant eyes track the slope of your tired back — the way you collapse into yourself, unable to fully stand neither still nor straight — and with it his lips purse into a thin, displeased line. 

“I’m fine Yoon, don’t worry about it,” you call out with a shake of the hand. You don’t think he buys it. 

“I’m sure,” he replies simply, tone aggravatingly pleasant, not a hitch, not a crumble for you to catch onto his motives. “Let’s get you into something cozier.”

Peeling off the layers of those impersonal, pretentious clothes makes you cringe. The sweat that had been subtly building under the material is sticky and for a second you almost wish Yoongi would be at the studio like usual. Not much of a looker — sweaty and as appealing as worm splattered underneath the car’s wheel. 

“Cute,” you hear a mutter behind you and turning around, you find Yoongi standing before you, chin in hands, almost appraising you the way an art critic would a rare painting. 

“I’m not cute right now,” you grouse. Yoongi was never one to sugar coat things, so why begin now?

“You’ll always be cute.”

There is an audible offence in his tone and something in it makes you wanna tease him and almost begrudgingly you have to admit that yet again his master plans proved to be fruitful — the accumulated tension was slowly dissolving in the air around you. 

“Even if I’m 90 and all my teeth are gone?”

“Well then I’ll be just as old and we can expire together.”

You shake your head with a barely suppressed smile and suddenly the home feels that much warmer. Not just four walls with a buzzing fridge, droning of the vapid TV and somewhat unsettling emptiness but an actual home. 

“Always the romantic Yoon.”

“I drew you a bath,” he throws his head towards the closed bathroom doors. “Get in.” 

There’s not a space left in that statement for you to argue and thinking about it, you didn’t want to. The water is in perfect temperature, betraying the amount of time you’ve been together and seeing the purple foam sitting atop of the scented waterline as candles laid around hobbled on the nearby surfaces,  tears rush to your eyes. 

Sometimes it was good to cry, be it out of joy, sadness or just as a way to release things and while for some it might seem bizarre to hear your cries in the bath, even somewhat disconcerting but Yoongi knew better and he knew when to simply give you space. 

By the time you get out of the bath, pruned almost to the bone, your head feels hazy — emptier but soft at the edges. The second you see Yoongi setting up the table, you nuzzle into him, practically melting against his frame. For a second he freezes, out of the corner of the eye you glimpse how his features widen in a shock-stricken expression but once the moment inevitably passes, he plays it cool, pretending that there isn’t a pink blush nestling prettily on top of his cheekbones. 

“My, my, you really are tired,” he calls out, gingerly prying your hands away, largely to sit you in the nearby chair. Yet another sign of the sheer exposure you've had with each other over the years — when you clung, you clung, more than once lazing atop of Yoongi as though he was your own personal body pillow. He put up with it like he did with most of you — possessing endless kindness and patience. 

"Some soup, nothing fancy," he explains, sliding a spoon your way. "It'll fill you up but won't give indigestion."

"Thank you. You're the best."

He doesn't respond to the compliment with anything credible, just something whined softly through a pout. The dinner passes by in a blur as you try to listen to Yoongi's day. The guilt gnaws with sharpened teeth - at your own inability to focus on what he's saying -but the haze spindles its spidery web too tight around your body and quickly enough, you sink into the mattresses absolutely boneless. 

"This just needs one thing," you hear Yoongi muttering overhead and after a beat during which you might as well have fallen into some form of micro sleep, he returns back, paddling quietly across the plush carpet carrying none other than an extremely sleepy and confused Min Holly. The poodle sniffs slightly, veering as he suddenly finds himself put on the bed but then simply decides to snuggle up the pillow next to you — an arrangement that often resulted in Yoongi putting up a fuss over being exiled from his own bed. Though tonight there is no tantrum and quietly you dream of soft hands caressing your head before inviting dark embraces you whole.

JIN | "So you don't want to come out?" 

The blanket shakes in a definitive no, pulling from him a deep, deep sigh. "Alright but just text if you need me."

For a second, more so out of instinct than anything, he thinks of leaning down, brushing away this ridiculous blanket you've cocooned yourself in and planting a kiss on your forehead - like he always does- but something in the way you're so obstinately clinging to it stops him and instead he lays his lips atop of it, allowing you to hide away from the world. When the ends of your ears perk at the sound of the closing doors, you slowly push the blanket onto the floor, gulping down large breaths of fresh air. 

Jin was nice, you liked Jin, obviously as you lived together, but sometimes…sometimes a person just needed to be on their own. The way you move throughout the house is largely mindless. Something is playing in the background, what - you don't know. You don't put much focus on what passes between your hands - the vacuum, the window cleaner — it's just a motion. A motion required so that the tension doesn't flay you whole. It's not like you particularly want to do so — the lower back pain surely is a sign you don't want to but it is needed. The nagging thoughts of something being not done in the house will just nag you on and coupled with the stress from work, you didn't put it past your body to become the first person on the planet whose head popped from their shoulders and become airborne. 

It is when you're in the middle of battling one very annoying corner of the front entrance when Jin comes home. All too soon you hear the code pressed on the outside and you greet him as such, standing and staring like a deer in headlights with vacuum in one hand and a wet wipe in another. For a passing moment, Jin simply takes you in, a wrinkle of thorough confusion marking his face. Then as if to come to a foregone conclusion, he sighs, places the many, many takeaway boxes that tower dangerously all together in a green plastic bag on the console nearby and struts forward. You almost go in to defend yourself be it verbally or with a vacuum cleaner but he simply disregards it and places a palm right over your forehead. 

“As I thought,” he mumbles solemnly. “You’re running a fever.”

Immediately you check yourself, in the hurry almost letting the vacuum hit the ground had Jin not caught it at the last second.

“No, I’m not,” you protest but deep down you've grasped that your hand is sweaty and that your head feels…heated, somehow. “I don’t want to take a sick leave!”

Jin was often an easy-going man, never a joke missing when he was around, never a moment weighing too heavily but he was still an adult and sometimes…sometimes he put his foot down. 

“But you are,” he insists with a deadpan tone. Both of your hands are forcibly freed from the items in them as you’re spun around and pushed towards the bed, your socks providing no grip to fight the movement. “Better one sick day today than a whole month later. Remember November?”

“I remember November,” you huff begrudgingly. “But it’s not that bad.”

“_________,” the sound of your name falling from his mouth with not a lick of usual laughter or any form of fond exasperation rings like a cannon shot through your ears, making you shrink smaller. “You’re tired. Just rest. Everything else will fall into place.”

You grow limp under his touch and let yourself be carded back into bed, no huff, no puff. Vaguely it’s reminiscent of Jin’s own temper tantrums as he battled a cold two months ago. You’d chided him then for acting like a spoiled child with a silver spoon both in his mouth and up his ass and you know now that it was merely an act of the infamous pot calling the egregious kettle black. There is a twinkle of vindication in Jin’s eyes even if he does not say it out loud. The session of being made fun of was simply postponed due to the pitifulness of your state alas not entirely avoided.

“Now, let your boyfriend take care of you,” bright is Jin’s smile as he beams down upon you from one ear to the next but the pat on your head dours the cheesy sentiment if he even had any to begin with.

“I’m not a dog,” you gruff, wrenching his hand away but as Jin saunters away, dignified as ever, “could have fooled me” is tossed casually over his shoulder. 

HOSEOK | “You don’t have any plans later in the evening?” 

Because it was 6:30 of a quiet Monday morning and you had assumed that Hoseok hadn’t come home at all, given how you’d gone to sleep alone and woke up as such, the question poised from a poked-in head, partially hidden by a steam of running shower, it came as a no surprise you were scared shitless. Nursing the elbow that was so rudely slammed against the tiled wall, you replied that no, you did not have any plans. 

“Great! Love you!” 

The only thing you heard after were quick, running footsteps and then — silence. 

“Love you too,” you muttered to the empty air. “Whatever that was.”

But Hoseok did sometimes do odd things and so as the work day reared its vicious Hydra head you forgot all about it, too submerged in the rising pile of problems. 

By the time you shuffle out of the work doors, there is a deadpan expression upon your face and even more upon your soul. You’re tired and the outlook of coming  back — yet again! — tomorrow makes it all the more draining. As you drudge your way down the main street there is only one dream floating almost palpable before your eyes and that is your bed. The very thought of immediately propelling yourself underneath the fluffy duvet and dozing off to a good music is a piece of private heaven you’re salivating after and all that was needed was to go home.

If only it would be that easy. 

A sleek, black car rolls in front of you, so crudely that only by the last pinch of your nerves you do not curse the driver out then and there. It’s a blessing you do not as the window rolls down and you find none other than your boyfriend sitting joyfully on the other side. 

“Are you abducting me, good sir?” you call out and Hoseok opens the doors from the inside, invitingly patting the seat next to him.

“Yes, now get in. This is not legal parking.”

At first, you hum happily along to the song playing on the radio. Sure, Hoseok makes a weird turn — it definitely does not belong to the usual route but maybe that was him trying to evade the congested traffic. A second one? Your hum falters but still you persist. You were still going in the correct general direction and if anything you should be grateful about being rescued from the overcrowded hell that is public transport in a rush hour. But once the third turn is taken and you no longer recognize the area, the soft happiness blossoming in your body freezes and for a fact refuses to thaw. 

“Uhh…Hoseok?”

“Hmm?”

“Where are we going?”

“To the mall.”

If feasible, your brain would make a sound similar to a record being pulled under the needle of the player. And then smashed against the fucking wall. 

“The mall?” you echo slowly, however Hoseok remains blissfully oblivious and smiles as your dream of bed and rotting rest shatters into unmendable pieces. 

“Yeah! You’ve been working so hard! You definitely need some new gifts. Name whatever you want, I’ll get!”

Get me home, is what flashes through your mind but even thinking about it feels ungrateful of sorts. Thus,  you bite your teeth into a pained smile.

“Yay,” though you try to sound enthusiastic it comes out more like a squeaking cry of a dying animal. 

Having three bodyguards flickering in and out of your periphery as blinding mall lights blare overhead was not your idea of fun in the best of days but even less so after the dogshit that was work on this particular Monday. 

Suddenly Hoseok shoves a string of pearls underneath your noise, with an overeager “try this!”. You oblige but something in the look does not please him and quickly the pearls are swapped for another, a tad more delicate piece.  

The longer you trail after him, the more your eyes droop downward. It becomes too difficult to even properly focus on walking let alone on what Hoseok is saying. Covertly, you try to slump against him while on the escalator and once more Hoseok misinterprets this as an expression of affection, cooing at it. 

You do not have the heart to tell him you were seconds away from crawling into the bathroom and sleeping there.  

“Which shoes do you like better? These ones or these ones?” 

Strategically, you position yourself on the plush albeit hard chair of the shoe shop.

“They’re both good,” you mutter and the next time you open your eyes, a muted darkness stands before you. For a second, your heart leaps, dry spit curls up at the back of your throat but as the second passes, so does the fear. The dark slowly abates and the familiar feeling and smell of your comforter drags you back into the peace.

You’re home. 

There is a vague clattering coming from the closed bedroom doors and as you drop back onto the pillows with a sigh of deep relief, it stops only for someone to move closer. 

As Hoseok opens the doors, he stands in them for a while wearing a gentle but knowing smile. 

“If you didn’t want to go, you could have just said so.”

You screw your eyes shut, feeling the end of a headache coming back up from behind the eye sockets.

“Did you drag me back?” you groan, sinking deeper into the mattress as though it could possibly save you in any way.

“With some help,” Hoseok nods, throwing a towel to rest over his shoulder. “You were out of it.”

“I’m  sorry,” you glance at him from the covers, turning your voice much more earnest. The feelings of ungratefulness cling to your chest, creating a heavy, pressing sensation. How much time really did you have with Hoseok? Hours,  minutes? Versus the days that he was entrenched deep into work or worse on tour. You ought to spend every moment with him, radiating nothing but happiness but it was just…

You were just too tired. 

“I really am.”

“Don’t stress about it. But really just tell me next time that you don’t want to go and would rather sleep instead. Trust me, I would understand.”

You nod along to his words, giving a mute promise though it's one he accepts. 

“Besides there’s always online shopping,” he supplies lightly before his smile warps to cut a  bit too deep into cheek and too devious in its hue. “And I can always spoil you in other ways.”

JIMIN | The second your aching feet drag over the warm threshold, you don’t even let Jimin finish his greeting, instead propelling yourself tiredly into his chest, self-indulgently wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“What’s this?” he chuckles softly, placing one cheek upon the top of your head — you could feel the weight of his motion. It rests on you like a heavy blanket, relaxing yet not caging. “Since when are you so nice to me?”

“Oh, shut it,” you hiss meagerly, cheek still ruffling against the thin material of his grey t-shirt.  “I’ve always been nice to you.”

“Debatable,” he laughs but it quickly sizzles into a low hum. “Long day?” 

“Felt like it would never end.”

Dinner is eaten quickly, with you mostly scarfing down whatever is put down before you and Jimin occasionally throwing a worried glance though he chooses not to give these concerns a voice. You’re grateful for the silence — too exhausted in your own right to dwell on what should soon turn into a hazy, near non-existent memory. 

The sofa underneath your back is pliant enough and slinking onto the too small decorative pillows, the same ones Jimin had sworn would be perfect as you had stood in IKEA checkout line, you feel your eyes fall downward — not slow and steady, but definitive and pointed like a crash of a rock.

Jimin’s voice floats above the cotton-candy haze that circles the ends of your eyes and maybe vaguely you catch the tail of a sentence. 

“...movie?” is all you hear and deeply not caring, you nod along, still partially clinging to his arm. 

“Something you like…” Jimin mutters under his breath. “The Notebook is always great.”

“I literally have never liked that movie.”

He lets his mouth open in truly horrendous offence, placing a palm over his chest as though you’ve just stabbed him with a kitchen knife. 

“Blasphemy! And in my own home too!”

Imperiously, you make a grab at him, settling yourself to lay partially on his torso. 

“It’s our home, you menace.”

“Ah, and there they are! So I thought you being nice earlier was suspicious.”

But even as he’s saying it, there’s a lingering presence of suppressed smile etched across his lips. 

“Just play something,” you mutter, not even bothering to maintain the appearance of  wakefulness. 

“What about “cold eyes”?” he suggests, switching contemplatively between the select options, each one playing an annoying loud 

“That’s still your favourite movie. I like “The Lighthouse”.”

As expected an immediate wrinkle of distaste curls up his nose as he regards your suggestion. Apparently taking in a noir coloured fever dream seeped in oceanic nightmares had not been his favourite way to spend an evening and though he endured it once, more thanks to his apparently endless love for you than patience, you doubted the chances of him laying his eyes on the production ever again.

“A compromise,” he suggests, by now only barely able to move as you melt into him, your tired bones demanding a rest. How could even one’s inner thigh muscles hurt you did not know but such was the reality. 

“Ice age.”

“Deal.”

It’s not even five minutes into the movie that the warm colours flashing on the screen, not to mention the rub of Jimin’s fingers tenderly grazing against your scrap, lulls you into deep, exhausted sleep. Jimin doesn't wake you.

TAEHYUNG | Though the headphones squeeze on your ears in a manner that manages to somehow be both painful and itching, you pour all of your focus into the pot of soup boiling on the counter. The sensory hell that is extractor hood whirrs overhead and while you hate both the steam making everything just a touch too hot and the noise being a touch too grading, it does the trick. It completely overwhelms your mind and with it the piled up anxiety. The sudden light touch, light yes but unmistakably belonging to a human hand, forces some form of primal scream out from your throat and you’re met face to face with equally wide-eyed, equally frightened Kim Taehyung. Who is in your house. 

You almost ready the ladle as a weapon of sorts but the fleeting voice of reason reminds you, he is in your home because this is the home you share.

Because you’re dating, it goes to supply and you’re thankful that it does otherwise you would have just slammed your boyfriend into the kitchen ground with the aforementioned ladle. 

He attempts to speak or at least so you assume from the way his mouth moves.

“Just give me a sec!” you point at your earphones in the still lingering confusion momentarily forgetting to how to turn off the blasting music that just a second ago was mind numbing in a pleasant way but now has grown to be an auditory guillotine.

At last you manage the Bluetooth connected mess and pushing back the hair from your face, you huff, trying to sound light and miserably failing in one fell swoop.

“Why-why are you home so early?” 

Taehyung quirks his head to the side and those soulful, terribly wary eyes glide over your face in suspicion. 

“Was I not supposed to?” 

You almost don’t stammer when answering “no”. Taehyung hums but it doesn’t feel either like a response or the final sentence in the otherwise lackluster conversation. If anything it’s a wordless noise of suspicion and you begin to sweat under its weight. 

“You look like you haven’t slept a week,” he points out, not overtly trying to be accusing outright but similarly failing as well. At first your mind leaps and bounds to white lies, some smaller some bigger but as his gaze grows more expressive, more analytic you wither and simply confess like a child would after eating too much candy from a jar that was specifically left for guests.

“That’s because I haven’t.”

Taehyung nods, clearly having suspected as much. 

“And I assume the reason why you were unpleasantly surprised by my arrival is that like any other night, you wanted to make something quick, then sit yourself in front of three devices all playing different things and then letting yourself rot in an unmade bed?”

You twiddle with your thumbs. 

“Yes. Are you mad?” 

He looks mad, however because this was Taehyung the next second his face blooms with pity and you find yourself surrounded by two arms and what feels like a cashmere sweater. 

“Oh my baby.”

The beginnings of what feels like straying tears rush forward but still for now you force them down. Disconnecting, for the first time you look Taehyung properly over. What initially seemed like nothing but put-together pillars of stability when compared to your crumbling statue ebbs away and in the muted light of the kitchen you see. The downturned corners of his mouth, the eye bags obstinately clinging to his face, the hair that hangs over said eyes, clearly unkempt, obviously trying to hide something he deemed too personal to share with the rest of the world.

Other than you that is.

Once again it rips out of you without much consent or thorough planning of the brain:

“You’re tired.”

He laughs but the sound, alike the atmosphere, falls strained. 

“Yeah I am. Can’t sleep much without you.”

The soft ends of his voice, clipping into an exhausted drawl, makes your heart bleed both in pink and red. 

“I’ve been worried about you,” he adds with a deep sigh. “And it seems not entirely without reason.” 

“It’ll be alright,” you try to brush off but without knowing whom you tried to convince more — Taehyung or indeed yourself. He doesn’t much say of anything, merely gives one truly solemn nod and clutches your hand in his grip — ladle and all. 

JUNGKOOK | The second you feel the familiar walls of your home swallow you whole, the full effect of a thoroughly draining day kicks you in the chest. You feel its weight knead at your muscles, turning every strain of it into an over-taut strings of deepened ache. You breathe a weary, albeit content sigh as one sweaty article of clothing is shed after the next. It’s a quiet retaliation — to toss them into the hamper for laundry tomorrow. Thank god for your laundry fairy. 

You hear someone at the door and momentarily the ache disappears in the surge of sheer adrenaline but as the familiar sounds of dog’s nails scraping against the floor reach your ears, you relax once more. 

“Babe?” comes an inquiring voice just seconds before Bam rounds the corner, gleefully wagging his tail at your presence. 

“You’re wet,” you complain but since much like Jungkook, it was impossible to be mad at him, all the dog hears is the pleased sound of your voice so without any inhibitions whatsoever, he noses at your shin, leaking rainwater onto the beige bedroom carpet. Jungkook pokes one head in and you’re not surprised to see that he’s much in the same state.

“And you’re wet as well,” you point out, monotonous, as he shrugs in response. 

“Forgot to take my umbrella.”

You don’t chide him, having honestly no strength to do so. Instead, you plop down onto the bed, stifling  another monstrous yawn, not entirely missing the faint wrinkle of concern carving its way in the space between Jungkook’s eyebrows but choosing to not remark upon it. He was already too worried these last few weeks. Still Jungkook remains Jungkook and not a second after, from his spot in the doorway comes gentle but somewhat of a sternly voiced question. 

“Are you okay? You look…I’m sorry tired is not the word. Drained of your very soul.”

You offer him a mirthless laugh, running a palm over your face. 

“Is it that obvious?” you try to joke but the hint of frailty betrays you. Its note might be faint but for Jungkook with his musical pitch, its laid out bare on a desolate cliff. He doesn’t speak but there’s no need to. His face says it all. 

“It’s just I’ve never not…known things,” you admit, a sense of frustration immediately clutching at your chest. “I’ve always been quick to adapt. A month, two months tops and I’d be like a fish in water but…” the end of the sentence trails off into a frustrated sigh.   

“It’s not your fault they’re not training you properly,” he objects but even so remembers to be quiet. There was no use in shouting and that was the rule you both agreed upon. 

“I know it’s not my fault,” you mumble underneath your nose but even you yourself can hear the disheartened nature of that statement. For long dragging stretches of time, you simply stare at Bam, reaching out to pat him ever so slightly. 

“I’m just…tired, Koo,” at last you state, the final walls breaking down in one, finite statement. 

“I get it,” he echoes somberly, the shared faraway glint in both of your eyes reminding you both of the many, many tired late evening, early mornings and the middle of the nights. Jungkook rouses himself out the soured memory lane first. He shakes his head and paddles over, sitting on the bed beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. 

“You want a shoulder massage?” he offers and as his touch settles upon your skin, you wince, prompting a hissing curse from his lips. 

“It’s like a rock, baby,” Jungkook whines in your ear. You try to shrug the sentence away however the flare of unexpected pain puts a firm stop to it. 

“And I don’t think you’ll make it better,” you sigh, trying, in a last ditch attempt, to sound a tad playful. You think it somewhat works as Jungkook pressed a preemptively apologetic kiss to the back of your head. 

tagging: @pinkcherrybombs; @sukunabitch; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi267; @back2bluesidex; @silverliningsandstorms; @ahewlett

[animeyanderelover]

Tsukinami brothers and Cordelia Sakamaki fell in love with a human maid girl. ♥

I love your blog and youu <3

Let's be real, none of them would make good lovers.

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, power imbalance, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional thoughts, abuse, clinginess, mocking, humiliation, bullying, sadism, isolation, abduction

Human maid

Cordelia Sakamaki

🟣​As the only human in the Sakamaki estate, you have hell waiting for you since you're constantly either bullied, ignored or disrespected. Even some of the children there treat you rudely but you can't do anything against it. Cordelia is by far the scariest of all of them though as you notice that even the other vampire mothers are afraid of her. You fully understand why as you have been the one to receive her wrath and discontent. So you learn to keep your head low, never speak up against her and silently take everything if she lashes out on you. You make it your job to observe her and know what she wants without realizing that it is this very submissive dedication that manages to catch her eyes. It's been a while since she has had someone paying that much attention to her and listening to her every demand as at one point you can tell what she wants from you without actually having to talk to you. She still sees you as a pathetic, little thing but your effort to please her flatters her as you slowly upgrade to her pathetic yet adorable thing.

🟣​And just like that you become her own personal maid who she expects to cater to her every need. Bellatrix and Christa start avoiding you out of fear to be bullied by Cordelia and if you even do as much as offer anyone else in the mansion your service, Cordelia punishes you. She's verbally and physically very abusive if you shouldn't act like she wants you to. You have scars and bruises all over your skin on such days, dizzy from the amount of blood she consumed painfully from you. She always says cruelly in such moments that you should be glad that she even pays attention to you at all and could easily kill you if she wanted to. Behave! Behave like a mellow and obedient doll and you won't get the worst of her. Follow her always around with your head bowed, only listen to her and she'll be a bit better. Sit perfectly still when she dolls you up with dresses, make-up and jewels as she tells you in a sweeter tone that you need to look presentable when you are with her and don't flinch when her fingers caress the lines of your face gently. Be perfect for her.

Carla Tsukinami

🔮​Carla barely acknowledges you at first but you prefer that over Shin's taunting behavior. As long as you do your job, Carla doesn't care for your presence a lot. You don't even know what it is that eventually causes his golden eyes to be more drawn to you yet you notice it almost instantly. How his piercing orbs scrutinize your every move all of a sudden as you act as submissive and loyal as you are supposed to as a maid. It scares you but when he one day saves you from Shin who was just about to suck your blood again, you're too grateful to think much about it at first. From that day on he lets you spend a lot more time with him in his office where Shin isn't really allowed. He graciously takes care of your wounds as he bandages them and rubs ointment on all scars and open wounds. You're still grateful and thank him multiple times for his kindness to help you, although when you look up you can't help but shiver whilst looking into his eyes who seemingly drill into your soul as he takes in your form, your scent, those innocent and anxious eyes looking into his own.

🔮​Suddenly you aren't allowed to leave his chambers anymore and whilst you initially assume that he just doesn't want you to run into Shin again, the possessive and hungry light in his eyes tells you another story. His presence all of a sudden dangerous and suffocating as he tells you once to head back into his room and you do as he tells you, your body so terrified that it's moving on his own. You are safe from Shin from now on but you have gone from one hell into another hell as you soon come to realize. You're punished for the slightest sign of disrespect as Carla doesn't tolerate any sign of rebellious attitude and so you spend days without food and water in a cold cell, chained to the wall and at the mercy of whatever Carla has in store for you. It's such a stark contrast to when you're instead cuddled up in his arms in his private chambers and he shares his knowledge of the world in a low tone with you. You fear the Carla who hurts you and acts so coldly towards you and do your best to please him so that you only see the gentler side of him. Slowly but surely, you break for him. And that is exactly Carla's plan.

Shin Tsukinami

🐺​Shin makes his disrespect for you blatant as he sees you as little more than a plaything when you first arrive. You're a human after all, know your place. He doesn't let you do your tasks properly as he ruins your work for you. He pushes you around, bullies you, abuses you sexually, scares you and gives you a bright grin when he sees you breaking down in tears before he suddenly grabs your arm and yanks you up, demanding you to clean the mess he just created and prepare something for him. There is never a day where he doesn't give you a break as he is delighted to see your tears, although he also appreciates a bit of sass since it'll make it only more amusing to break you. He is a living nightmare and it is highly likely that you won't even notice that he has developed something for you because he acts exactly the same. He still sees you as a lesser being and you always will be. In fact he seems to be even more persistent now and you initially assume he just wants to torment you more.

🐺​Until one day, he stops. He stops abusing you as badly. Sure, he is still acting like the worst dick you've ever met but there isn't as much abuse anymore. Instead he's clingy and whiny as he yanks you away from your tasks and insists that you spend more time with him. Then the next morning, he's acting like you expect him to act. He suddenly switches back and forth between clingy and entitled to sadistic and psychopathic. You can not predict him anymore as he can seemingly switch from one mood to another within a single second and it makes you paranoid beyond belief. He's unpredictable so you can't even adapt your behavior in hopes of never eliciting his bad side out of him because your own behavior never dictates his actions. It's his own mood and what he is feeling at the moment and you can not influence that. You are adorable like this though as you constantly walk on eggshells around him. You flinch when he wraps his arms around you from behind, his hot breath fanning your neck as you can only wait if he'll bite you painfully or instead just place a kiss on your neck.

[bruhstories]

in heat

summary: zeke works from home. pairing: zeke x fembodied!reader warnings & content: reader is tied up, bdsm dynamics if you squint, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v (don't be silly wrap your willy), dirty talking, terms of endearment (love, sweetheart, honey) w/c: 1.3k

a/n: just a quickie with zeke, nothing more, nothing less. unedited as per usual

"You need to keep that filthy mouth of yours quiet, yeah?" Zeke picked up his phone and answered the call. "Oh, Mr. Magath, to what do I owe the pleasure?'

He spoke so casually, as if you didn't have your hands tied up behind your back, drooling over the ballgag in your mouth and Zeke's fingers deep in your cunt. After all, it was just a typical work from home day for him.

"The meeting went well. No, Galliard behaved, surprisingly." Zeke shrugged, although his boss couldn't see him. He dragged his thumb lazily up and down your clit, and you closed your eyes, bucking your hips against his hand.

This has been ongoing for the past twenty, twenty-five minutes. You weren’t exactly sure. It felt like more than that. All you wanted was for him to fuck you relentlessly, but Zeke enjoyed taking his time with you. It wasn't for your pleasure, but for his. He needed to see you wriggle and writhe under his touch, to know how much control he had over your body, to hear you beg for his cock.

Your body violently twitched on his desk when he practically ripped a growl from your throat with his skilled fingers. With wide eyes, you watched him frown, eyes fixed on yours.

"Mr. Magath, if you'll excuse me just a minute..." Zeke muted his phone. "What did I tell you? Well?" He asked, knowing full well that you couldn't reply back.

Instead, you tried to squeeze your thighs together in a futile attempt to stop him. He was on the phone with his boss, for fuck's sake. But Zeke paid Magath no mind, using his elbow to keep your legs spread open.

"Sorry, chief. Everything's fine, it's just my dog." He spoke, and you whined when he removed his fingers from your cunt, opting to let your blood boil. "She's been acting strange, lately. Think she might be in heat."

Zeke's words were cruel, but all they did was turn you on more. It was incredible how this man could admire and love you so much, yet he could also degrade you like you were dirt on his shoes. He knew exactly what buttons to push to switch you from respectable and clever to needy and hungry for his cock.

Your blood indeed boiled in your veins, because you were unable to get the much-desired friction that you ached for. Oh, and Zeke loved it. He loved watching your eyes fill to the brim with tears and your hips roll on his desk wanting more. He eventually indulged you, pinching one of your sensitive nipples before dragging his fingers down your abdomen.

"The reports are done, I have emailed them to Mr. Smith already." Zeke nonchalantly chatted with Magath while his index and middle finger brushed up and down your slit.

You were soaked, absolutely dying to feel him inside of you, but you knew he wouldn't give it to you just yet. When his fingers finally pushed past your slick folds, you arched your back and moaned, and Zeke's lips twitched in anger.

"I'm afraid I need to take the dog out, Mr. Magath. I'll let the files upload while I do that." He curled his fingers and you wanted to scream, tell him to hurry up and fuck you, but the damned ballgag stopped you from saying anything. Instead, all that came out of you was a series of guttural growls that echoed in Zeke's study.

"Oh, she's getting impatient. Have a nice day, chief." He hung up and tossed the phone on the sofa next to his desk.

Your eyes were filled with both tears of pleasure, and terror, because you knew how mean Zeke could be when you disobeyed him. He used his free hand to pull the ballgag out of your mouth and untie your arms, and a string of apologies spilled from your lips.

"Are you really that desperate for my cock that you couldn't wait five minutes?" His voice was low and threatening, and you shook your head.

"Sorry, 'm sorry-"

"Sorry isn't gonna help you, love." Zeke picked up the pace, thrusting his fingers deeper into your aching cunt, his other hand unbuckling his belt.

"Please fuck me, please, please!" You cried out, feeling your climax bubbling inside of you.

"Oh, I'll fuck you, alright. But first, you're gonna have to fuck yourself with my fingers. You need to earn my cock, sweetheart." He palmed the bulge in his trousers, a groan escaping his lips when he felt you clench around his fingers.

Shamelessly, you pushed your hips against his hand, trying your best to do as you were told. It would've helped ti have your hands untied so you could prop yourself against them, but nonetheless, you managed to come on his fingers, body shuddering from the ecstasy.

"Atta girl." Zeke removed his fingers from your sloppy cunt, giving your thigh a firm slap. "You did well." He said, unzipping his trousers.

"Wait, I can't-"

"You can, and you will." Zeke pulled his cock out, and your eyes darted to it, instinctively licking your lips when you saw it. "Weren’t you the one so desperate for me to fuck you?"

You said nothing, because he was right, so you spread your legs wider, earning a 'good girl' from him. Zeke dragged his cock up and down your slit, coating it in your slick before pushing it in. Even after so much time, you couldn't get used to the size of it, and you whimpered when he bottomed out.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He growled, eyes rolling back as you took him so well. Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his back, you braced yourself for the feral thrusts, and Zeke delivered. He needed you just as much as you needed him, and he didn't hold back, fucking you with aggression and passion.

"Oh, God! Feels good, so-oh good!" You buried your face in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent. You hated the smell of cigarettes, but whenever you felt it on Zeke, you just couldn't help but be aroused.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you? Filthy little slut." His cock brushed over your cervix, buried so deep inside of you that your abdomen hurt.

It was painfully good, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You loved the dynamic you had, and you loved him. It was the perfect balance of love and hate.

"Zeke!" You cried out, feeling yourself close again. "Shit, I'm gonna cum!"

"Again? Aren't you desperate today?" He mocked you. "How pathetic."

"'m pathetic-" You choked on your words, mumbling incoherent sentences while he fucked you deeper and harder. "Gonna cum!"

"Go on, cum on my cock. Show me how much you love me."

"Love you, I love you, I lo-oh! Oh, fuck!" Your dignity left your body when you trembled in Zeke's arms, limbs quivering and your mind cloudy. You were certain you were going to faint from exhaustion.

Zeke slowly pulled out of you, cock still hard. But he wasn't about to fuck you to death, although he was sure you wanted that.

"Let's clean you up." He said and you shook your head.

"Need to... help you finish." You mumbled in your dazed state, but Zeke didn't listen.

"Honey, you're tired. You've already done so much today." He helped you down from his desk and untied your hands.

"What about you?"

"I've got hands, don't I?" Zeke chuckled, dragging you to the bathroom. "Come, I'll order us some food for dinner."

"Sushi?" You yawned, turning the tap on.

"Sushi." He checked the temperature to make sure you wouldn't faint in the shower.

"You know, if anyone saw how we have sex they'd think you're one of those shitty alpha male influencers." You laughed, getting in the shower.

"It's not my fault I've got a freaky girlfriend." He rolled his eyes. "Oh, speaking of." Zeke stripped and got in the shower with you, because the internet was so bad, he knew those files haven't uploaded yet. "Will you marry me? The ring's in my study, I got carried away-"

"Yes. Fuck yes."

[gilverrwrites]

Hi! Here I am with a Black Mask request 🖤. Could you write something where someone is threatening towards the reader and Roman gets protective about it?

Possessive Roman is great too but I wanna see this man go full protective mode!

You don't have to be sorry, Sweetheart.

Black Mask/Reader, 1.8K words

Request Info || Masterlist || Ko-Fi 

Rubbing my hands together like a hungry little racoon being fed. I forgot how feral this man makes me. I took me a while to find my Black Mask head space again, but my Roman is almost always based on an amalgamation of his 60-2000s-ish comic appearances, for reference. Oh and the mask, that does NOT come off. 🖤

Roman doesn't take kindly to an ex employee affronting you, after leaving you alone in a bar. Rated: 18+

CWs: Swearing, blood, spit, threats of violence, actual violence, and some more violence, switchblade, derogatory names: bitch, petnames: sweetheart, failure to wear seatbelts (- please don’t do that irl), protective Roman, somewhat possessive Roman, unhealthy relationship/toxic dynamics.

Please remember: You are stronger than your fears and doubts

Roman Sionis is no stranger to getting his hands dirty. In fact, anyone who’d worked close enough with him, himself included could tell you that Roman thrills in dirty work. However, there are some essential jobs that even Roman won’t touch. When these errands come up, there’s only one place to go to find a runt with morals low enough to get it done.

Noonan’s is the worst bar in Gotham, at least in your opinion. Roman didn’t seem to care much for it either. In fact, the first time you’d accompanied him on a business meeting there he’s told you; “This place is dicey at the best of times. Anyone touches you, says anything to you, so much as fuckin’ looks at you the wrong way, you come get me, alright, Sweetheart? I’ll set 'em straight.” And hadn’t let you leave his side until you’d sworn to come find him at the first sign of trouble.

Usually, you didn’t run into any real problems during the scarce amount of times you’d been there. Roman would conduct his dealings in a function room out back while you tried to keep to yourself. Most people knew who you were, who you were with, and were smart enough to keep to themselves. Nursing a drink in a dark corner typically didn’t draw any more issues than a few side-ways looks. Looks that didn’t seem worth mentioning to Roman. You love him, but he knows how to make a scene, and a scary one at that. It isn’t always worth the fuss. Usually.

It seems somebody was feeling unusually gutsy today. From the moment you’d entered, a familiar face had been watching you. You didn’t know their name, honestly, you likely couldn’t name a single person in this place. But you knew a lot of their faces, Noonan’s always seemed to draw the same crowd of washed-up and bitter ex-goons. Moments after Roman had taken his leave, your watcher approached, tripping over drunken feet until he was close enough to slam his drink onto your table, splashing you with beer in the process.

“Hey, you.” He leans over, pointing a finger in your face, far too close for comfort.

Careful to avoid elevating the situation you remain as still as possible, only moving your eyes in order to get a better look at him. Up close you can see smatterings of scars, and tattoos. He’s clearly tried to pay his dues with a lot of Gotham’s crime bosses and villains. A question mark, a penguin, a black skull.

“Yes, may I help?” You ask cordially, offering a smile.

“You’re Sionis’ bitch ain’t ya?” He slurs as he speaks, spit dripping onto his chin, and ricocheting towards you. “I got a bone to pick with that asshole.”

“Well, I’m afraid he’s busy.” You’d tried to be amicable but now your hospitable tone is gone, replaced with as much nonchalant venom as you can muster. “And his ‘bitch’ doesn’t want to talk to you.”  

“I don’t give a shit what you want.” He bangs a fist against the table. Luckily, you’d seen it coming and had had the foresight to grab your drink. But whoever this fucker was, had not. More of the amber liquid spills out onto the table. “That bastard fucked with the wrong guy when he laid me off. Do you know who I am?”

Do you know who he is? No, and you relay that information by staring at him with a pointedly blank glare.

“I said, do you know who I FUCKING AM?” Spit fires from his lips, hitting your face, you feel your already simmering blood begin to boil with each drop. “I’m. Henry. FUCKING Byrne.”

“Good for you, ‘Henry fucking Byrne’ but…” You shouldn’t say it, you know you’ll only provoke him, but he’s on your last nerve. “I. don’t. FUCKING. care.”

“You don’t care, I don’t bleeding care, I don’t care who cares! But he’s gonna care…” Your comment has set him into a long, drunken, incomprehensible ramble, you presume the ‘he’ in reference is Roman, but all other thoughts are cancelled out by the sight of Henry removing a switchblade from his back pocket. As he leans in closer, pointing the blade in your direction, the gravity of the situation sets in. If you don’t act soon, you might just meet your maker in fucking Noonan’s. Tragic. “He’s gonna fucking care when I wreck his bitch.”

Searching for a defence, an exit route, anything, your eyes dart around the bar, quickly locating your salvation.

His pristinely tailored suit highlights him amongst the crowd, the waxy polish of his mask glowing under the dingy low-handling lights. He advances with confident, assertive strides. Instant relief floods through you, followed by a completely different brand of panic.

Relieved to know that you’re almost certainly safe, panicked by the thought of whatever mess he’s about to make.

Despite the tap of Roman’s shoes and your obvious stare, Henry is too wrapped up in his own anger and babblings to notice the impending danger. Like a frantic school of fish being advanced upon by a shark.

He doesn’t deserve your kindness, but you offer it anyway, sliding your chair back, out of his reach as you shout; “Roman, don’t.”

“I just wanna talk.” He spits, holding both hands up, feigning innocence, showing that he’s unarmed. As if he needed a weapon to be dangerous. It’s a lie, you both know it.

Alerted to Roman's presence, Henry begins to turn but is stopped by a leather-clad hand fixing to the soft spot on the back of his head. With rapid force, he’s pushed face-first against the table. Once, twice, three times. Blood is pouring from his nose, mixing with the already murky puddles of spilt beer. Stray chunks of what you can only assume are broken teeth jump with every collision.

Henry’s knife clatters against the floor, narrowly missing your foot. You grab it, holding tight.

“Roman stop.” You say, certain you’re no longer at risk. “He’s had enough!”

Roman's brown eyes bore into you as he slows, gripping tight to your almost attacker's neck, guiding him back into a standing position.

“Do you think you’ve had enough?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“Yes, yes sir. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Henry’s already slurred speech is muffled even more by his own fluids.

“Oh, you’re sorry.” Roman mocks, his neck is red with rage, his mask creaks as he juts his jaw back and forth, a habit you’ve learned is a calming mechanism, something he’d picked up since getting his pacemaker fitted. It isn’t working. “See ‘sorry’ isn’t gonna cut it, you need to be taught a lesson.”

Using his free hand, Roman reached over to you, pulling the switchblade from your clutching fingers.

“Cause you see, when you mess with what’s mine, you mess with me.” Tension hangs thick in the air, every patron is watching, waiting to see how this unfolds, what the infamous Black Mask will do next. “And nobody messes with me.”

“Roman.” You warn, standing and placing your hand on Roman's shoulder, gently tugging at him, urging him to cool off.

“Fine, I’m gonna let you go.” Henry’s face hits the table one last time with a hard smack, followed by the sickening crunch of his own blade being stabbed through his hand, pinning him to the table. “But be grateful, and know that if I see your face anywhere near us again, I won’t be so gentle.”

All eyes remain on you both as you turn to leave. Roman doesn’t care. He firmly wraps a hand around your upper arm, leading you between tables, past the bar, and toward the door.

“Let that be a lesson to all of you.” He chides the onlookers in one last display of warning, before making his exit.

The time passes in a blur as Roman guides you outside, summons the car, herds you inside, and informs the driver to take you home, all the while his hands never leave your form, but once the car starts running time rapidly slows.

You sit together on the back seat, in silence. Roman is not traditionally expressive, for obvious reasons, but you’ve been together long enough to pick up on his emotional tells. He’s rolling his jaw again, and flexing his hand in and out of a fist shape, trying to cool off, trying to prevent himself from snapping at you.

In an effort to help soothe his anger you manoeuvre closer, until your sides brush together. You move to place your hand on his chest, but he grips your wrist, denying you.

“What did I say?” He isn’t yelling, but there’s still an anger to his tone, and a hardness in his eyes that you’re not accustomed to being on the receiving end of. Before you can respond he continues; “I told you, if anything happens, you come get me. What was that?”

“I know, I know, but I’m fine.” You reassure, nudging your arm until he releases you. “I’m sorry, I thought I could handle him, but it just escalated so quickly.”

His look softens, never able to stay mad at you for long. He lets your hand fall against the soft fabric of his blazer. In a quick, practiced motion he lifts your legs up and over his own, positioning you into a cradled position. Removing his gloves before resting one hand on your lower back, and the other on your thigh where he strokes his hand in slow circles.

“You don’t have to be sorry, sweetheart, just promise me, next time you sense trouble, you come to me.”

It would be easy to lie to him, to make an impossible promise, he tells white lies all the time. But you know he values your honesty, he has expectations for you that he does not hold himself to, you’re the light to his darkness. “If I can, I will, I promise, but it’s not always that simple Roman. I’ve got to defend myself sometimes.”

He lets you talk, but he’s shaking his head, disagreeing before you can finish. 

“This isn’t up for discussion.” He speaks in the gentlest tone, a voice that is reserved for your ears only. “I know you’ve had to look out for yourself in the past, but you’re mine now, and always. You don’t have to do that anymore.”

Your back hits the plush upholstery of the car seat, contrasting with the hard wood of Roman’s mask pushing against your lips. You welcome the familiar mahogany smell, the taste of spice that invades your senses. Kisses from Roman are never gentle, they’re harsh and cold against your skin, no matter how gently he runs his hands along your body.

When he’s satisfied, he pulls away, just enough to get a good view of your face, to look into your eyes. The coolness of his forehead presses to yours.

“Nobody is more important to me than you.” His voice is sharp and gritty. He holds you just a little bit tighter. “I’d burn this city to the ground before I let anything happen to you.”

[jelzorz]

194.

So much of it happens in a blur. Opeli only remembers bits and pieces of how it started to begin with before the softer parts of her brain shut down to let her do what she needed to do. She remembers an explosion, the air filled with fire and smoke, a crumbling tower and Soren beside her, ushering her towards the nearest exit, his words in her ear—stay low, keep going, go, go, go—and then there was light, and screaming, and chaos, and the rest had simply happened, because there was no time to think about it and too many people to save. There were the guards, the civilians, the dragon circling in the air; the order to evacuate and then Soren leaving her in the stairwell with Hat trembling in her palm; more fire, more smoke, a spell? And now—

The magic that protected them from the fires is starting to wear off now. Most people look like themselves again which is a relief, but it gives Opeli a chance to survey the survivors better too. Raids and wars and attacks are brutal and terrifying in the moment, but the aftermath is almost always worse—and this is the worst is has ever been. The injuries look worse on flesh and blood; broken limbs and crushed legs and burns are so much more visceral now that she can see them, now that they're able to set them and bind them and dress them with gauze. Doctors are in short supply out here, so she and the other clerics have been helping with first aid as much as they can. It's not enough. There are still people who will not see the morning. There will be more rites to give before the sun sets again.

This is why she seeks Soren out, she thinks. He's seen it all. He knows how blood looks on his hands. He knows how to handle all this.

She finds him helping to settle a couple of kids. They are fine, thank the Five Sisters, and their parents are fine, just scared and a little hungry, and he is offering them his rations when she gets to him. They hurry away as she approaches, their smiles shy but grateful, but when Soren gets up, he looks just as wary as she.

"That was very kind," she says quietly.

He shrugs. "They need it more than me. Is everything okay?"

"They could be better." Opeli presses her lips together as she studies him, swallowing the emotion that rises when she remembers he is injured too. The gash on his forehead has dried, matting the hair just above his brow, and she almost can't tell if the marks on his face are made of bruises or soot.

She is so tired of blood. So sick of how red it is, how sticky it feels on her fingers. She likes it even less on him.

“You need that looked at,” she says at last, nodding at his forehead.

He waves her off. “It’s just a scratch. The other clerics have their hands full. I’ll be fine.”

Opeli sets her jaw. “My hands are free. I’ll take care of it.”

“Opeli, seriously, it’s okay—”

“I owe you.” It slips out before she means it to. She knows he doesn't want to feel like his bravery has to be repaid. It's his job to protect his people, just as it is hers—but she thinks of the window in the tower, the dragon in the sky, the glow of an inferno and of the heat of dragonfire as it blew the glass inward, right where she would have been standing if he hadn't—

"You don't owe me anything."

"You saved my life," she points out. Twice today, she thinks, when he tackled her out of the way of Sol Regem's attack, and then she was in the crowd by the bridge, trapped by the fires after he left her with Hat to speak to his father. There was a third time too, when Viren crowned himself King and would have branded her and Corvus traitors to the realm. "Let me stitch you up. It's the least I can do."

"Opeli—"

"Soren." She gives him a look, stern, unyielding, the same kind she uses at meetings when someone won't agree to doing something reasonable. "I wouldn't be here to offer if it wasn't for you. Let me help."

He chuckles, then relents. "Fine," he mumbles after a moment. "Let's get it over with."

x

They find a quieter spot, a little away from the crowd but still close enough to keep watch over them in case something else happens. Opeli picks up a first aid kit from one of the younger clerics as they pass, one whose hands are shaking with the shock and exhaustion of treating so many wounded. She is not the only one: Opeli has already ordered two others to go to bed and leave their kits with soldiers or civilian volunteers. One of the guards threw up when Opeli reset someone's dislocated shoulder. Another had her head in her hands and jumped at every sudden noise.

The cracks are starting to show in everyone, and it's not just because of the trauma caused by a dragon attacking the castle. They are all simply exhausted, and the work does not seem to stop. The soldiers keep watch in shifts but then have to assist the civilians with tents, with food, with moving the injured and the dead.

But Soren is steady. His resolve keeps her hands from shaking, even as he winces while she drags thread through his skin. The stitches are not as neat as they would have been this morning, but the gash is clean and closed, and he's not bleeding anymore.

Opeli clicks her tongue at her work, wishing it was better, wishing she could do more, but he catches her hand as she frets over it, the warmth of his fingers like an anchor to this, to now.

"You don't owe me," he says again.

"I owe you three times over," she says. "Three times now, I—"

"You don't," he insists. "It's my job."

"It's your job to keep Ezran safe. Keeping me alive is certainly not—"

"Do not finish that sentence."

"I only—"

"Opeli." His fingers tighten. Opeli's breath catches in her throat. "It's my job to protect my friends," he says. "My family. I've lost enough. Don't act like I can afford to lose more."

There's a pause. Opeli looks away, and then, to her horror, she starts to cry.

Soren stares at her but his grip is firm, even as she hiccoughs and hides her tears in the recesses of her hood. It's all so much. Too much. The smoke and the fire and loss of life; the windows exploding inwards, the wound on his forehead, the castle crumbling to the ground. And now this too? "Thank you," she murmurs.

"Opeli, come on, you don't even owe me that."

"Not for that. For—" Opeli sniffles. "For considering me your friend. I'm honoured."

He almost laughs at her, his fingers tightening that little bit more, a man clinging to what little he has left. "You're pretty well family now," he says quietly. "Don't thank me," he says again. "Just don't die or leave or whatever else. I don't think I can—" He swallows. "Just stick around and we'll call it even. Okay?"

Opeli twitches her lips despite herself. "I can do my best."

[pigeonstab]

Just gonna bonk my head on top of you hellooooo o/ How are you? I hope the animating is going well c:

Also I feel like years have passed since I bothered you sooooo if I may ask, did you have a scenario in mind for the college au bite drawing? Of like how they got into that situation or what happens after? :oc ALSO is it okay to send stuff for Cole and Fern still or do you want a pause so you can work on the ones you have? I have a question but I don't wanna add to the pile if you already have a bunch lol ALSO!! I love you I hope you're having a nice day <3 or actually it's night now but still nice <3

hulooooo <3 the animating is going great. I'm doing lineart and running into a bit of trouble but I'll figure it out lol.

I didn't really, my thought was mostly just like I have an au with vampires and not a singular bite drawing loll. I don't think it'd be out of necessity per say. More like they've recently emptied their stock of blood and they're on the way to get more just cause it's risky for Killer to attack folks cause he's more integrated into human society, also to save him having to kill somebody. But Killer's just running a bit low. He could wait, he usually does but Cross being the sweetheart he is noticed, and.. He asked if Killer wanted to drink from him. Killer knows he shouldn't. Really he'd be fine without for a few more days and Cross is such a people pleaser, Killer knows he'd make himself uncomfortable for his sake. He shouldn't but... He just likes Cross a lot, and the guy's offering, he's smelt Cross's blood before and he knows just how terribly good it must be if it caught his interest even when muddied with wolfsbane, and Killer's just hungry and oh fuck obviously he's gonna fucking bite the guy he doesn't know why he's even trying to justify himself he was never going to be able to say no. So he looks at Cross who looks all sorts of anxious and he accepts with a pit of guilt in his stomach. Anyway Cross is on cloud nine his crush has his mouth on his neck and is grabbing him and he's feeding Killer and being such a good boy. As to why they're naked idk I just wanted to draw arm bones. Probably only Cross would've taken his shirt off lol. He doesn't want blood on it.

Yes! It is okay, encouraged actually please don't tell me I made a second blog only for there to be no asks or I will explode Lmao. Also I only have two in my inbox now and one in progress so I'm running out.

I did have a nice day! I re-did my braids, went to my grandma's ALSO crazy shit, she invited family over at our house. Like planned it with the guests without telling us? So now we have to host on Saturday which I think is pretty insane lol invite people to your own house lady. I hope you had a nice day too!! Sending many many hugs