#and a party-worthy occasion

[jimkirkachu]

plates, cups, and bowls for the Starfleet party (including not just captain's green but also short-sleeve-sickbay-scrubs sky blue!)

When you’re at the grocery store and the paper goods aisle is all, “Wanna throw a party with cheap original series Starfleet-colored napkins and utensils? We can make that happen.”

[cherryredstars]

Hi cherry! First of all thank you for your work, your writing has permanently altered my brain chemistry 😳😳 I was wondering if u could write something where Miguel and his ex reunite after a bad breakup, perhaps a few months after (maybe they bump into each other during a party or smth) and as they finally talk both admit that they never managed to move on (like reader went on a few unsuccessful dates, since shes still obsessed with Miguel it has been pointless) they are still in love and they want to make it work this time!!! And since they are back together reader is rlly needy and touchstarved ��🥴 she missed him so so much and all,,,,

thx again for feeding my miguel’s hyperfixation!! you are one of my fave authors here ❤️❤️ you deserve the world!!

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fingering, Squirting

A/N: Hello and thank you, love 🫶🏼! Enjoy!!

Unedited

Well, this was another disaster.

You’re practically moping at your reflection in the bar’s bathroom. You’ve been hiding in there for more than ten minutes, but you would be surprised if your date- even if he’s not worthy of the small title- has even noticed your absence.

The whole night had been a disaster, right from the very start. Not only had your date been twenty minutes late, but he also failed to so much as greet you for more than 5 seconds before ordering himself a beer and turning his eyes to the small bar TV to watch the old sports rerun from the night before. You would cringe when he loudly reacted to the events on the screen as if it were happening in real time, making the people around you turn to him with perplexed and judgmental looks that made you want to crawl under the bar and out the door. Your attempts to distract him from the game with small talk only turned to him giving half-assed information about himself and him asking if you’re covering the tab for his beers.

What a stellar experience!

You stall in the bathroom a bit longer by being extra delicate in your lip reapplication, all the while whining to yourself in your head about how you could have saved your outfit for a better occasion. With another sigh and a planned excuse to end the night early, you hype yourself up to leave the bathroom and return to your date.

When you open the door, you almost stumble into someone’s chest. You blink in surprise, an apology forming on your lips as you slowly lift your head up. The words instantly shrivel up and die when you meet familiar red tinted eyes, the air in your lungs suspending.

Miguel, sporting his usual grumpy look, instantly softens as he meets your eyes. He seems to take you in, like your the first sign of water since taking a cruel journey through the desert. The look alone is enough for your heart to go into overdrive

Despite the sudden dryness in your throat, you manage a small smile, “Hi.”

The one word is soft, almost tentative. It makes something in Miguel crave more. He’s been wanting more the moment the two of you broke up, the reason stupid after a few months apart.

He returns the smile, hands going to his pockets to fight off the temptation to grab you and never let you go, “Hi, I like the dress.”

Your eyes instantly fall down to take in your outfit, cheeks blazing from the compliment. Your fingers play with the hem of the skirt, a bashful thank you bubbling from your lips. It makes Miguel’s smile just slightly larger as your eyes hesitantly meet his again.

A silence fills the space, both of you caught up on things you could- should- say to each other. The silence begins to grow awkward, and Miguel finds it to be the perfect opportunity to slowly reach his hand out.

He means to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but the pounding in his chest makes him miscalculate slightly and instead skims the apple of your cheek. The touch shoots rapid jolts of electricity down your spine, awakening your nerves from a long hibernation. Your hand desperately grabs at his wrist, trying to keep his hand in place. Then suddenly, everything is fast forwarded.

Your lips crash together in a hungry, desperate urge to be closer. Your bodies pushing against each other until your smaller body is pushed back through the bathroom door, the lock faintly clicking behind the two of you as you’re lifted up and placed onto the counter. Your hands exploring inches of skin that you still know like it’s your own. Refamilarising yourself with every bulge of muscle and every dip.

Despite the vicious need to have you naked against him, for your skin to press against his and swap a cycle of warmth, Miguel grits his teeth and restrains for ripping clothes off of your body. This place is filthy, and he doesn’t want to tarnish your skin. Instead, his hand slips under the hem of your dress, pressing into the soaked spot growing in the fabric of your panties.

Your body bristles from the contact, your sex burning hot and throbbing. You squirm, your body already begging for more. Miguel reads you instantly, slipping his fingers under the fabric until he grazes your twitchy clit and reaches your leaking hole. He circles his fingers around the wet entrance, lubricating his fingers with your arousal before slowly pushing them in.

A low whine escapes you, your walls clamping down hard around his fingers. Miguel hisses at the vice grip you have on him, his thumb attempting to relax you by circling your clit. It makes you whine more, practically squirming on his hand.

Miguel buries his face into your neck, kissing and sucking at the column of skin, “Fuck baby, you’re so sensitive.”

You can only sniffle in response, your mind zeroing in on the slow curling of Miguel’s fingers. Your eyes are half lidded and hazy, small moans leaving your lips as the tips of his fingers press into the gummy spot inside of you. The pleasure grows quickly, pent up sexual frustration from dates you wouldn’t even let into your home and late nights at work to distract yourself from the ache in your heart unleashing and flowing down Miguel’s wrist.

With a combination of thrusting and curling, your body spasms with a choked moan as you collapse against him. He can feel the gush of your release spray against his hand, creating wet squelches as he continues to work you through it. Clear drops landing on the counter eventually begin to form a small puddle under you as your panties become completely soaked through.

You’re fighting for breath once you come down from your high, mind foggy and stuck in a state of bliss. Miguel slowly pulls his fingers out, his entire palm soaked with clear arousal. A stray drop runs down his arm, and he’s quick to catch it with his tongue. He almost comes in his pants as the sweet taste explodes in his mouth, making him hungry for more. He fights the urge for now, promising himself it’ll come with time before grabbing napkins from the dispenser and cleaning the inside of your thighs and the puddle under you.

He slowly pulls your soaked underwear down, recognizing the flash of discomfort that comes over your face as you come back to earth, stuffing the fabric in his pocket before helping you down onto your shaky feet. You hold onto his arm tightly feeling as if you’re trying to balance on jello, and Miguel wraps an arm around your waist to stabilize you. Your breath is still slightly irregular, and you take the moment to close your eyes and lean your head against his chest. You can hear the pace of his heart, not a bit surprised that it mimics yours.

“Come home with me.”

You smile into his chest, humming.

Like he even had to ask.

[lovebugism]

What about Eddie with shy!reader who still gets shy & flustered when he compliments/praises her even after being together for months now 🥺

hi love! this is such a sweet lil scenario! thanks sm for your request!! — the one where eddie is super good at making you feel pretty (but only because you make it so easy)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

“Does this look okay?” you ask for the hundredth time. Maybe millionth.

Eddie doesn’t shrug you off, though. He never does — not even when you’ve repeated the same question to him a thousand times.

The boy eyes your outfit like he’s really analyzing it, just like you wanted him to. In its fourth iteration, it looks only slightly different than the one before it, but he’ll take any opportunity to look at you that comes his way.

Most of the time, you can’t stand it when he stares at you for too long. Now he can do it all he wants because you’re asking him to. He feels a little like the luckiest guy on the planet.

“The skirt’s really pretty,” Eddie affirms with a nod. He’d argue that you’ve looked pretty in everything you’ve shown him, but he knows that’s not the answer you’re looking for. “I think I like it better than the jeans, actually.”

Even though you could wear almost anything and drive him insane, nothing beats seeing you in skirts. Something about your legs has always worked him wild — maybe because you keep them covered so often. 

It isn’t every day he gets to see you in these shorter bottoms. Those are only reserved for real special occasions. And, for some strange reason, you’ve decided that’s what Steve’s party is.

You look over your shoulder at the boy sprawled out on the edge of your bed. His wild hair and all black get-up looks much more jarring than usual against your baby pink comforter.

He’s dreadfully out of place in your girlish bedroom. You never want him to leave.

“You think so?” you wonder aloud, toying nervously with the hem of your white skater skirt. It’s not super short, stopping just below mid-thigh, but you’re nervous that it might be anyway.

Eddie scoffs like the answer’s obvious. “Totally. You look killer, babe. I’m gonna have to walk behind you all night to keep everyone from staring at you.”

Your nose scrunches at the crude compliment. Sometimes you wonder if Eddie thinks you’re prettier than you really are — like one of those funky carnival mirrors, but with the opposite effect. 

He’s under some sort of spell, you figure. He must be. 

You don’t deserve to be loved on as much as he loves on you.

“I’m being serious, Eds,” you argue halfheartedly as you turn back to the mirror. You tug at the bottom of your snug crop top when a sliver of your stomach starts to show.

The bed squeaks under his weight when he rises from his lounged position. He laughs and it sounds like sunshine. “I am being serious. You look amazing.”

“You always think I look amazing,” you murmur, flashing him a weak glare from beneath your lashes through the mirror. You’re not as annoyed as you seem. Embarrassed and a little undeserving, sure — but not annoyed.

“How’s that my fault?” Eddie scoffs with a chuckle. His chunky sneakers thud, thud, thud against your carpeted floor as he walks over to you. “If you didn’t look so pretty all the time, I wouldn’t have to compliment you, so… Checkmate.”

“Stop it…” you protest, mousy and only half-joking.

Eddie’s almost certain that none of his words ever get through to you. Every time he tells you something nice, you think he’s joking. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s never been serious about anything in his life — other than you, of course — or if you don’t think you’re worthy of praise.

Maybe it’s a healthy mixture of both. 

It breaks his heart all the same.

Your back meets his chest when he stands behind you. His deep, musky cologne engulfs you like a fuzzy blanket. His ringed fingers are warm as they splay along your hips.

Even when he’s barely touching you, he makes you feel so held. 

“I mean it,” Eddie assures. His voice is soft, quiet, and serious — a stern sort of coo. His button-eyed gaze pierces your own as he stares at you in the mirror. He squeezes softly at your sides. “You look really pretty, babe. I think you should go with this one.”

Grateful that the attention is less on you and more on your outfit, you get less sheepish. “You don’t think it’s too much for a party?”

“No,” he answers with a curt shake of his wild head. “’S perfect. Honestly.”

You huff and lean back against him — not relaxed, exactly, just wanting to feel more of him. Eddie’s chin rests on your shoulder as your arms cross over your stomach. You look almost like you’re hugging yourself.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” you wonder, so quietly it sounds like a bunch of mumbles.

Eddie’s practically developed super-hearing after being with you for so long. 

He scoffs in response. “They’re gonna love you,” he promises, brows raised beneath his frizzy bangs. A pink smile tugs at his mouth. “Like, seriously. They’re gonna be obsessed with you. Henderson, especially. Him and Robin are gonna talk your ear off the whole night.”

You’re smiling before you realize it.

You love that he can imagine you so perfectly meshing with all the people he cares about. Your heart swells at the thought. You love fitting into his world.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods with a scrunched nose. “And then I’m gonna have to share you with them and… You know what? Maybe this is a terrible idea.”

You exhale sharply through your nose in place of a laugh. You purse your lips to the side when you feel like you’re smiling too big. It takes over your whole mouth anyway.

Eddie watches your gaze duck towards the floor where his dirty sneakers stand alongside your shiny Mary Janes. He smiles at you like he’s just heard his favorite song on the radio — like he’s watching happiness incarnate and holding her in his hands.

“There it is,” he singsongs quietly. “I’ve been waiting to see you smile all night.”

Your face heats like a stove eye. You think you might actually burn him if he touched your cheeks just now.

“Stop,” you whine as if he’s hurt you in some way. You writhe in his arms to escape his grip, but he only holds you tighter.

“Sorry, babe,” Eddie apologizes, mostly insincere. He tucks his face into your shoulder and mumbles his words there. “You can’t escape me.”

He sprinkles tiny kisses on your neck. You raise your shoulders, not because you want him to stop, but because the softness of his touch tickles you there. You’d rather feel his lips against your own, anyway.

“You’re such a sap,” you tease as your head turns to peer up at him. The words leave your mouth so softly you might as well be telling him ‘I love you.’ In some ways, you are.

“I mean it, though,” he confesses. He seals his promise with a barely-there peck to the tip of your nose. His lips just barely brush your skin before he’s pulling away again. “You look pretty. Beautiful, even.”

You trap your smile between your teeth as you twist in his hold. Your arms stay pressed between your bodies while his arms embrace you wholly. “Beautiful, huh?” you echo with a sarcastic lilt.

“Uh-huh. Beautiful with a capital B.”

Despite how desperately you want to look away from his intent gaze — so full of love that they’re twinkling with it — you force yourself to keep his stare. “Well, I think you’re Beautiful with a capital B, too, Eds…”

Eddie beams at you, taking your compliment in stride. You wish you could do that, too.

“Thank you, baby,” he hums before smacking a kiss to your waiting mouth. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint and strawberry chapstick.

It’s over far quicker than you’d like it to be. He doesn’t seem as grieved by it as you do.

“Alright, babe. Let’s go,” he announces with a boyish grin when he parts from you. You smile as he heads out of your bedroom, picking up the purse on your desk as he goes. He knew you’d forget it otherwise. 

His voice comes muffled from the hallway, “Your chariot awaits!” 

[insidemyrottenbrain]

Henry gets jealous because you spend time with Richard

The risk of jealousy - TSH

Henry Marchbanks Winter x GN!Reader

Dearest anonymous, I hope you can forgive him and his denial of jealousy.

The sharp claw of jealousy finally scratches the untouchable Henry.

I’ve always been incredibly particular about whom I associate with. The people around me need to be worthy. Now, I am well aware that my choice of words may make me sound arrogant, so allow me to explain: I want them to have shared interests, to be able to hold late-night debates on esoteric topics, while giving me a sense of belonging and consequently not tiring me out socially. I do not ask for much, really. Alas, one cannot always get what one desires.

The little group of which I’m currently a part of is… pleasant. The twins regularly host dinners which are, of course, the birthplace of many fights and arguments regarding the most trivial subjects that usually end up with Henry winning. Francis unhesitatingly puts his aunt’s house at our disposal whenever desiderium naturae strikes us and amusingly complains about some disease or other the whole way there. I even consider some of Bunny’s jokes witty on the rare occasions when he stops being insufferable. Unfortunately, they all give me a shallow sense of belonging that only manages to make itself felt in transit moments. However, Henry is different. With him, I feel content reading in silence after a long day, waking up in the same bed, legs intertwined under the soft cotton sheets he insists on buying with Apolon tugging at our lazy eyelids or simply challenging one another’s knowledge on whatever topic interests us at a given moment. A continuous childlike rendez-vous.

I do not know why I have been so platonically attracted to Richard of late. When he first joined our Greek class, he did not strike me as someone who would manage to integrate his lowly self into our complexly layered group, or even more, someone who would enjoy my presence. He was and still is flawed and ordinary. However, this normality flowing through every habit, every movement, or expression is a strange refresh in an intangible web of meticulously tangled appearances and facades. Richard is not some ancient scholar buried in paradoxical ideals, Gods-praising rituals, and glorious beliefs, but a modern human. He is aware of the current world, unisolated, present, an active participant. Not only does he attend parties but he also drinks, kisses, and loves strangers. Though an exaggeration to the unknowing eye, he seems to me quite the Epicurean in a cult of Stoics (excluding Bunny).

Despite my writings above which one might foolishly mistake as praise on my part, I must now dive into Richard’s own tendency to fictitiousness. He throws, here and there, long, lavish fabrications (with the aid of which he becomes unconsciously arrogant) and slight inexactitudes he considers too small to pass unnoticed by the attentive ear. And according to my fate and against my trusted intuition, I found myself unable to stop listening whenever he started talking about his (fake) childhood in California filled with swimming pools and orange groves and dissolute, charming show-biz parents, teenage years with a new girlfriend every night, the newest dramas (if they truly do exist and are not yet other fictions) circling Hampden.

There is a quirk. I notice it now, when we’re all standing in the day room of Francis’, or rather his aunt’s, manor. Charles is playing the piano filling the room with gifts for ears, showing off as he always does, while Bunny comments on one rhythm or another, challenging him, fueling him further. Everything is normal, except for one detail that does not escape me. Henry grows more agitated with every single one of Richard’s grant histoires. Albeit, the so-called agitations are rather minuscule, but I pride myself in being able to distinguish them. A small frown, creasing his pale forehead just the right amount for it to disappear just as quickly and nonchalantly as it came, a constant rub of his hand against his limped leg, and a novel proneness to small physical gestures: touching knees, pressing shoulders, his hand on the small of my back or idly playing with my fingers. I settle on questioning him later since I know he will not show any truths of his mind in such large company. 

We share a room, since we stopped bothering to hide our relationship long ago from the others. Henry’s already in bed, his nose buried in a book, dressed in his pyjamas, his initials embroidered upon the left side of his chest; H.M.W. If I had been told years ago that I was to be sharing a bed or be in a relationship with the person I suffered the least, the one that I had to compete with in Julian’s classes, the one that knew how to push my buttons I would have died of agony. But now I’m content. I know of the infatuation rendering me blind. My life has become a continuous torture, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to live without him. Just like Zeus who vows to fulfil his promise with a single sacred nod of his head, so am I unable to change the basis of my passion. He is in all my plans. In all the joys the future holds. In the dead of night, in Julian’s lessons, in the summer by the lake, instead of my mind’s eye being fully focused on one specific task, it always switches without fail to him.

I lower myself onto the bed next to him. “You seemed troubled earlier, in the day room.” I ask casually an indirect question.

“You’ve been spending an awful time with Richard.” He responds swiftly, tonelessly, simply pointing out a fact. 

I consider my answer for a moment. “I suppose so.” I hum, just as my head hits the pillow. “Don’t you find him intriguing? He watches the news on television.”

“Intriguing?” He blurts out, closing his book and putting it on the bedside table. Clearly, I have his attention. He turns on his side to fully face me, his hair falling over his forehead and slightly over his glasses. “His intriguing part eludes me. You are wasting your time with him, listening to his rambles.” He says clearly irritated, not bothering to keep up his stoic facade. “I assure you, you would be much better spending your time wisely.”

I frown. This is unusual of him. “He is in our class, is he not? I cannot avoid him.”

“Of course not, that’s not what I am suggesting.” His eyebrows remain furrowed. “What I do mean is that he does not bring you any benefit.” He continues in a monotone. “Why must you listen to him with the same attention and interest as you listen to me?”

Ah, I see. Henry is jealous.

“Is this jealousy?” I ask attempting desperately to restrain the slight smile forming on my face. 

“You are mistaken.” He ‘corrects’ me sharply, raising his eyebrows.  “I am merely stating that I see no point in your interactions with Richard when you could gain much more from being in my presence.”

I raise a sceptical eyebrow. He acts as if I wouldn’t mourn his death in the same way Achilles mourned Patroclus’, with rage and violence.

Words are imperfect communication devices, so I pull him down by the back of his neck and press my lips against his in a pleasant normality. I feel him slightly relax against me, his hand resting on my neck.

“Henry,” I mumble as we part, forcefully stretching our souls apart. I remove his glasses and place them down next to us and his forehead naturally falls against mine “you know better than to have such doubts.”

“I do.” He mumbles back, not bothering to deny his feelings anymore. “However, it proves to be quite difficult to not have them when-” He stops considering his words. “When you plague me so. There is no day or night in which your existence takes mercy on me and does not destroy the little rationality I have left.” He lowers himself down on the bed next to me. “You inexplicably and absurdly manage to be and eradicate my sanity.” He sighs. “And it certainly does not help when you look at Richard with the same eyes you look at me.” Henry mutters.

My hand finds his and I chuckle. “I’d argue I look at him with entirely different eyes.” At my comment, Henry raises an amused eyebrow. “Perhaps you’ll stop seeing shadows where there are none.”

That is all he needs to defeat his insomnia in my arms once again and to fall prey to sleep’s vicious grasp his body indistinguishable from mine under the sheets, sharing one breath.

[kurogane2512]

Thoughts about sugar mommy Jade.... God she embodies the trope so well I need to get this out, this is very rushed I just typed out whatever came in mind

NSFW AHEAD || Honkai Star Rail

Jade x gn!reader || NSFW + SFW hcs || How it's like to have Jade as your sugar mommy

Sugar mommy Jade who saved you from crippling debt brought upon by your parents. She promised to pay off everything on one condition- you have to become hers. It was a contractual relationship, one that you didn't give a second thought to and accepted immediately.

Sugar mommy Jade who gives you the most luxurious lifestyle, literally living in a mansion with her having servants for everything and the best kind of facilities in the cosmos. It's like everything you desire is automatically there even if you never spoke of it

Sugar mommy Jade who loves to shower you in gifts. She brings back souvenirs from all her trips to different planets, she loves the adorable expressions on your face as you look at them in awe and are so fascinated. She especially loves adorning you in jewelry.

Sugar mommy Jade who takes you on expensive dates, makes you attend parties as her partner. You honestly don't know what she sees in you to choose you for such special occasions but you never complain as you get to experience such luxury. Gives you the best of dresses to wear so you look someone worthy of her.

Sugar mommy Jade who is secretly very possessive of you. It was supposed to be a contractual relationship, then why does she feel envious when someone else tries flirting with you? She allows you to do almost anything, except going away from her especially in public places. She needs you by her side all the time.

NSFW BELOW

Sugar mommy Jade who uses you as a stress reliever after her work. She expects to find you waiting for her in her room wearing the clothes she picked out, she doesn't pounce at you right away but she teasing you and doing lot of foreplay.

Sugar mommy Jade who is almost never rough on you. She can be intense and sadistic, she owns all kinds of sex toys and loves experimenting on you but she'll never hurt you. There is always a safe word during sex, if sometimes she accidentally crosses the line she's quick to hold you in her arms and cuddle you in her chest.

Sugar mommy Jade who is also into some risky sex. She's more than likely to take you in the bathroom or empty lobby of the party venue you are at. Loves putting her whip around you as a leash and pulling you along like a pet, but she treats you far better than a pet.

Sugar mommy Jade who playfully punishes you if you do something out of line, you don't actually mean to disobey her but she knows you do it intentionally to rile her up. She will spank you with her whip during this, but again she'll never hurt you. She also loves tying you up and doing whatever she pleases with your body.

Sugar mommy Jade is sweet, sadistic, rich, and possessive of you. She will give you the best kind of life as long as you abide by the one rule she set in your contract- never betray her.

[mrskokushibo]

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, Rough Sex, BDSM, strictly 18+.

Plot: This is essentially smut only. Rough BDSM sex with a jealousy-triggered hard dom Kokushibo.

A/N: Despite the violent nature of the intercourse portrayed in this piece, the sex is entirely consensual and, if anything, expected by Kokushibo’s lover.

Masterlist

He was a jealous man, you had never any doubt about it. But his intelligence and sense of humour prevented him from primitive displays in public. Sure, he could give you the occasional glare and even shake his finger playfully, but that was as far as that went.

In the bedroom, he asserted his dominance now and then, venting when frustrated or stressed. His physical prowess was enough to make you feel small and submissive, and more often than not, you were melting just from his huge frame rutting into you at a relentless pace.

But recently, something changed inside you, wanting more of the power play to happen and you began craving firmer and firmer treatment. You obtained ropes, riding crops, whips, gags, and even a collar and a leash. All in the hope for him to release the demon you so well sensed rested dormant in the depths of his innermost being.

On a few occasions, he agreed to play along, tying you up and then half-heartedly smacking you lightly with a paddle or whip, before quickly proceeding to the usual dicking you down and fucking as usual. You were losing your patience. He was so delicious and sexy, his body was a work of art, the way his huge biceps swelled when he supported himself on each side of you as he fucked into you. You were always ready to worship him, and being a hopeless sub, the ultimate fantasy was a night of him stretching his wings and dominating you.

There was one last thing to do. Making him so jealous that his façade would eventually crack and he would show you the full extent of his abilities. And that is exactly what you did. The opportunity for that couldn’t come soon enough with a party you were both invited to. You made sure to wear a revealing outfit, and let your flirty side loose as soon as you hit the crowd.

Kokushibo was occupied in a serious conversation at the opposite end of the room, sending an occasional look your way. It did not take long for an attractive male demon to chat you up and you commenced heavy flirting with the drool-worthy blonde. Initially, Kokushibo did not pay much attention to your behaviour, but when you let the other man touch your back and ass, and you leaned into him a little too close for decency, his look grew fierce. Something darker than the usual jealousy was there, and without so much as approaching you, he gave you a long stare and left the party alone. You managed to piss him off. For a moment, you got worried. Could you have gone too far? You excused yourself from the young male you so eagerly interacted with just a moment ago, and walked out of the noisy hall. But Kokushibo was nowhere to be seen.

You ordered his servants to teleport you to his chambers, but as you entered you were met but nothing else but silence. He was gone. You sat down on the futon and sighed. Was this it? Did your display get to him so badly that he decided to leave you? But as your thoughts were going around in circles, a servant came in with a small note.

‘From the Master to you, Madam.’

He left just as quickly as he appeared and you held the neatly folded note for a while before finally daring to read it. Your stomach clenched up and you felt a lump in your throat grow as you began anxiously to unfold the paper.

“You have gone too far. I need time away from you. See you in a week. We will reconvene then.”

No pleasantries, not even a signature. You put the note aside, laid down as you were, and fell asleep from emotional exhaustion.

The week dragged on unbearably, making your anxiety increase exponentially as time passed. Then, one evening, after you came out of your evening bath, wearing only a thin yukata and your hair out, there he was. Sitting in his armchair in complete silence watching you with narrowed eyes as you emerged from the bathroom.

You stopped in your tracks when you spotted him, standing there as if petrified. Quietly, he got up from the armchair and walked up to you in his dignified, stoic manner.

Without a warning, he grabbed you between your legs, long fingers curled into the depths of your core, and pushed you ahead of him until your back slammed into the nearest wall. Upon which, he lifted you up with that same hand still buried in your cunt, having you impaled like this, he leaned close to you and hissed in your ear:

'I think you need to learn your place, my love, and tonight, I am in the mood to teach you exactly what this means.’

And oh, you relished in the idea of finally having him pass on that knowledge, which, by the way, you already possessed, but needed to revise by practical means. You struggled to not show him how overjoyed you were by him being this decisive. But a small smile could not be masked and his reaction was immediate.

‘Am I amusing you, hm?’ He let you down, your back resting against the wall and your sopping pussy imprinted with the memory of his rough treatment. When he leaned down to speak, he was towering over you, a menacing aura caging you in and trapping your pathetically small body.

‘Because I am anything else but amused with you and your behavior earlier.’ His deep voice, so quiet yet so commanding kept you hypnotised and in place.

A calloused finger run along your lower lip, parting it slowly but forcefully.

‘Open up.’

Obedience was the only way to go, so you opened your mouth and that same finger found its way deep into your mouth, followed by one more and then another. He pushed them as deep as anatomy permitted, and began pumping into your mouth, making you gag.

He then grabbed your chin and held you still, moving his fingers in and out of your drooling mouth. You looked into his eyes no longer able to suffocate a smile. His eyes narrowed and a dark glow appeared in his dilated golden pupils. Suddenly, the fingers disappeared from your mouth and a slap landed on your cheek, and then on the other one, and so repeated a few times. Just hard enough to make a point but definitely not hard enough to do any damage other than a slight passing redness.

‘Are you going to be a brat for me now?’ He was staring at you with those terrifyingly glowing narrowed eyes.

‘You are such a slut.’

He pressed himself onto you and you could feel his poking erection through your thin yukata. As if driven by magnetic force, your hand wandered to his groin, only to be grabbed at the wrist and pinned above your head.

‘You do not touch me unless I say so. Understood, bitch?’

‘Yes. Understood.’

‘Yes, what?’

‘Yes, Master.’

‘That’s better. You are learning fast, wench.’

He pinned you harder against the wall, causing you to lose your breath for a moment. Sharp fangs grazed your neck and then he growled in a terrifyingly low timbre.

‘Wait here and do not move an inch or you are going straight to sleep without your punishment.’

For a moment there was something playful in his expression, but he quickly turned away to hide his face from you. He walked over to the elegant ebony dresser and took out a few items. He kept the long riding crop and one other thing and then put some aside on the futon and then proceeded to walk back to where you stood. Something sparkled in his hand in the illumination from the faint warm light of the chandeliers. As he approached you, the sparkly item was a choker collar encrusted with diamonds with a golden chain attached to it. It was the same collar that you recall obtaining, but now it has obviously been customized. So…. Did he plan this? How and when?

But you were not granted the time to ponder, because, as soon as he was close again, with one lightning-fast movement, he ripped off your yukata and left you standing in front of his fully clothed self, exposed and naked.

‘Kneel. Now!’

Your gaze locked in with his, slowly you went down on your knees, his erection bulging through the folds of his hakama right in front of your starved mouth. His large hands put the expensive collar around your neck and once in place, he yanked the leash a little and smirked, and run the riding crop across your back and to your ass, spanking you lightly.

‘Love it. This is such a great look for my little pet. This is exactly where you belong. On your knees for your Master.’ Another spank, this time harder landed on the softness of your ass.

You smiled again, but it was a mistake. He yanked harder on the leash forcing you to land on all four and grabbed you harshly by the hair, lifting your head up to him.

‘Behave or next time it will hurt.’

You moaned as he moved his hand to your neck and took a chokehold, depriving you of just enough air to make you a little dizzy, while spanking you repeatedly with the crop. He then let go just as quickly and began walking toward his favorite armchair. You followed on all four, just like an obedient dog.

Once he reached the armchair, he turned around to face you, and lifted the leash a little, forcing you to stretch your head up to him and look him straight in the eyes. A faint smile graced his elegant face and with a calm and soft tone he murmured:

‘Undress me, but do not dare touch my skin. Or else…’ He continued the sentence with action instead, by slapping your cheek again and taking the riding crop to one of your breasts, spanking it from the side.

Despite being aroused beyond the bounds of sanity, your hands were shaking slightly as you reached to cautiously untie his obi and the belts of his hakama. He was after all a powerful demon and you were well aware of his limitless talent for cruelty. Because there was no way for you to know how much of his inner beast you woke up when you made him this jealous and worked up.

So, you continued the undressing until he was standing there in all of his nude magnificence, making you weak at the knees and wanting nothing else but to wrap your lips on the pink tip presented right in front of your nearly drooling mouth.

He put the riding crop aside on the armchair and his hand on your head, once again, with a gesture that made you feel more like a dog than a person and slowly twined your hair around his thick wrist, the action slow and deliberate, his beautiful face menacing with a smug look.

Slowly, he lifted your head up again, and put the other hand around your throat with a steadily tightening grip. He sat down in the armchair, guiding you toward him with a firm grip on your throat and hair.

‘Suck my dick, whore. But no touching yet. Use your filthy mouth. And your mouth only. I want to see if you can take me like that.’

With that, he let go of your throat and just after you managed to gasp for air, he shoved your head to his leaking tip.

‘Open your mouth, bitch.’

The combination of his brutal words and actions was making your core cry and throb with arousal. You did as he commanded and he began sliding himself into you while pushing your head down with the iron grip he had on your hair. A deep groan escaped his throat as he bottomed out, his tip touching the back of your throat and you gagging, drool running down your chin.

‘Just like that, my precious doll.’

He began to mouth fuck you. Slowly at first but as his arousal grew, he was beginning to lose control and the thrusts were getting deeper and more powerful. He was using you as if you were a toy, with complete and utter disregard for you being barely able to take his huge size.

Not being able to hold all the precum and spit in your mouth, nor hold back the tears welling from strain, you let it run out freely. Just like a ragdoll mistreated by a naughty boy, you were completely at his mercy. He increased his pace and as he did, you essentially blacked out, collapsing forward and hovering on the last involuntary survival reflexes of your needy body and held in place by him moving your head up and down while fucking into you. Somewhere from the depths of the half-conscious state you were immersed in, you felt an increasing fullness in your gaping, impossibly stretched-out mouth, and a moment later, thick ropes of his precious semen were spraying freely onto the inside of your cheeks, your tongue and deep into your throat.

When his abdomen stopped its violent contractions and he pumped in the last of his seed into you, he lifted you off him, your mouth connected to his cock with a mix of spit and cum.

‘Look at you and the mess you made.’

He was watching you with interest as you were slowly coming down to reality.

‘Clean it up.’ His voice was barely a whisper.

You licked his half-erect cock, lapped up the cum from your face with your tongue, but the mess was too big to clean up just with your mouth. He stretched out his arm and grabbed a towel to dry you up with, tossing it aside when he deemed the job was done.

The throbbing ache in your core was almost unbearable and your juices were running down your legs, making you feel like a bitch on heat. Degraded and horny as a fucking dog. That is what you were right now and you loved every nasty bit of it.

You looked up at him with those teared-up, puppy eyes, up to your dark god, who, in this very moment held all the power over your life and pleasure. His faultless instincts picked up on your silent plea as he spoke in a honey-glazed voice, making the lewd words sound like a hellish prayer telepathically passed on to him from your obsessed mind.

‘So, you want to cum? Yes?’

‘Yes, Kokushibo-sama.’

He held your face in his brutal hand, big enough to crush you and your heart.

‘And why do you think you deserve such an honour? You already got to savour my precious semen. That should be enough for a cheap whore like yourself.’

He kept your face in his hand, smiling the sweetest of smiles while his eyes retained the darkness from before.

‘Because I crave you, Master. I live for the pleasure you so generously grant me.’

His smile widened, baring the huge fangs in a menacing fashion. ‘You dare crave me? Hm?’

He moved his face closer to yours and, all of a sudden locked his lips with yours, prying his tongue into the depths of your throat, making you gag a little. As he released the rough kiss he smiled again.

‘Careful what you wish for because the pleasure might be too much for a little human like yourself.’

‘I do not care what happens to me, Master. As long, as you grant me it. I beg you.’

With shaking hands, you reached out to touch his chest. He looked down at your hand in silence, not moving a muscle. When he looked back at you, his voice bore the tone of suppressed malevolence

‘I told you not to touch me.’

With that he unhooked the chain lead from the diamond collar, tightening the collar a little around your throat, and yanked you up to standing.

‘Stay still.’

He went to the futon and the items put aside earlier. He picked up a bundle of silk rope and a gag. Once again, sinewy fingers were forcing their way into your mouth, spreading you open to place the gag. Your flesh wanted him to repeat the action in your dripping cunt, but there was no sight of that happening. He was determined to tease you to the edge of your sanity. It felt like being cast in the middle of a roaring sea with waves pushing you further away from shore the more you swam.

Once the gag was in place, he picked up the rope and began tying you up in classic Shibari mode. You closed your eyes and compliantly let his hands restrain you with seemingly endless lengths of tightly wrought silk. After what felt like an eternity, the action stopped altogether and you opened your eyes to the sight of him standing in front of you with a look of unbridled lust and admiration. He tossed the remaining length of the rope over a roof beam and with no effort at all, hoisted you up so that you were suspended horizontally and your hips were level with his.

He picked up a small whip consisting of many thin leather strips and quickly ran it along your slit, smiling viciously as you tried to moan through the gag.

‘Enjoying this, my love?’

You nodded and moaned into the bar in your mouth as he repeated the action, following it up with a light hit of the whip directly onto your clit. You flinched from the sudden sting, but the pain mixed with pleasure made you only cream more. Something he noticed and rubbed two fingers between your swollen folds, escalating your impossibly stifled moans. He kept on whipping you and rubbing your puffy softness as you were squirming from the mixture of pleasure and pain.

He took to rubbing circles around your clit while simultaneously landing whip lashes on your ass and back. As his actions intensified, so did the pleasure you experienced. He kept on edging you mercilessly, causing tears to flow freely down your flustered cheeks. With his transparent vision he assessed how close you were to coming, removed your gag, and asked, his voice dropping an octave:

‘Are you ready to cum on my cock?’

‘Yes Master.’ Your voice merely a silent whimper.

Without another word, he grabbed your hips, aligned you with his, and shoved himself into you with one quick thrust. His speed and precision were relentless from the very start, creating an almost chant-like soundscape of flesh slamming flesh on the base note of obscene wet squelching of his dick so efficiently invading your core.

You began to shake as your orgasm was on approach, and when all the knots burst and your release finally arrived, all you could do was to scream and scream and scream. Your eyes went blurry and you tried to focus on the chandelier at the back of the bedroom. After a while, your vision sharpened acutely as the release brought back some sanity to your fucked out brain and you were able to see objects in the dimply room clearly again. But what you could not see was how his expression softened the moment you came and how he stopped himself mid-air from stroking your back gently and kissing you on your neck.

Instead, he grabbed your hair, but not as brutally as before, and pulled your head back a little to face him.

‘I am not satisfied. We will need to move this to bed.’

You nodded instead of speaking as language has not yet come back to your mouth from the extreme pleasure of your orgasm. He let go of your hair, hoisted you down, and carried you to bed, where he loosened your restraints, but only to spread your arms and tie them to the bedposts. Once he was done, he moved in between your thighs, stroking his rock-hard erection, and spreading the precum pearling at his slit all over the delicious girth.  

Supported by one powerful arm on your side, huge muscles flexing, capturing all your attention for a moment, he aligned himself with you and started entering. You gasped at the pleasure of your core welcoming his manhood in a tight embrace, your eyes moved to his face and were caught by his fiery gaze, the dark flame so intense it felt for a moment that he could pierce through you by just one look. His expression was dead serious and emanating uninhibited lust.

He moved his now free arm to your side and lowered himself over you, not taking his six eyes off you, staring at you with a predatory look, his hips pushing his dick deeper and deeper into your burning core. The thrusts started as soon as he bottomed out, languid and steady, following the rhythm of his lips crushing yours in a hungry kiss.

The movements of his body were becoming increasingly intense, hands caressing and squeezing every inch of your flesh that was within reach, soft lips pressing kisses all over your mouth and neck, all the while his hips were picking up in pace.

Your louder and louder moans were spurring him on as an invisible whip on a racehorse, and he was growing ferocious in the way he was now having sex with you. It was as if he was trying to fuck his way into your soul. Sweat was dripping down his hair that cascaded all over your breasts and belly, his breathing heavy and strained, his mouth releasing deep, raspy groans that with every second that passed, grew louder, turning into growling.

Finally, a violent spasm of his abs and a loud growl indicated his release. His torso was contracting countless times as his balls were being emptied into you, filling you up with his fertile seed. There was so much of it that a small bulge began to form on your belly. The warmth of his cum lulled you into a still, relishing in the fullness of it all. You were too exhausted to crave another orgasm of your own. All you wanted was to lie in the stillness and flame of what had just now become a hot memory.

He collapsed on top of you, still breathing heavily, you could feel how his heart pounded in his huge chest. With a last effort, he lifted himself up and untied your hands, placing you in his embrace and rolling onto his back with you splayed on top of him.

‘Was this what you expected of me?’

He kissed you softly on your forehead and closed his eyes nudging your cheek with his nose.

‘You were perfect, Koku…’ You paused briefly and then asked in slight apprehension.

‘Did you enjoy … being like that?’

‘Well… I cannot say I didn’t. It was very …  new to me, but yes. I think we could do this again if that was your wish?’

‘I want that very much…’ and with that you buried your face in his warm, strong chest, enjoying the safety that was Kokushibo.

Tagging: @horror4themasses @sunsblaze @muzansfangs

Banners by @cafekitsune and @adornedwithlight

[tsukii0002]

I've been thinking that in Nightbringer the brothers don't celebrate their birthdays. They have been through a lot and Devildom is very different from the Celestial realm. However, Satan has never had a birthday, he hasn't had the opportunity to have one.

Mc knows it is a sad day, the day Lilith "died", yet it is also a happy day, a day that deserves to be celebrated. And knowing everything they know, coming from the future, they decided that themself would be the one to take the step.

They started decorating the garden, preparing all of Satan's favorite foods and buying all kinds of meaningless gifts. The brothers felt a contradiction, they were not sure about it. Satan himself kept locked in his room because he knew what the day meant to his siblings and he was also unsure how to feel. But that human attendant was as stubborn as a mule, and they would not stop.

To everyone's surprise Lucifer was the first to join in, he said he would find a great gift for Satan. Soon after, Mammon and Beel joined in, both wanting to help prepare a feast that their little brother would not forget. Asmo followed them, offering to prepare a costume worthy of the occasion. Finally Levi and Belphie decided to go and find as many kittens as possible, because they knew that nothing would make their brother happier.

When Satan realized everything (because yes, they couldn't keep the surprise) he couldn't help spilling a couple of tears. Not because of the gifts, not because of the food, not because of the party, but because his brothers were happy, they were happy that he was there with them and they wanted to show it to him.

At the end the seven demons melted in a big hug. And while Mc watched them in satisfaction, somewhere in the human world a girl felt happy, unconsciously happy for that little brother she did not know.

Happy Birthday Satan!! ~

If you have made it this far, thank you very much. I have to say that nightbringer has made me like Satan's character a lot more and I can't help thinking about these things, it warms my little heart. So for his birthday, self-indulgent publication.

.

.

[lavenderchqn]

synopsis — they get jealous parings — bf! xiao, wanderer, lyney x reader (seperate) warnings — it's written in 2nd person (and although it's been proofread... my english is not englishing all that well); you and xiao get into a minor argument (it gets resolved!); scara is his boastful self and pays a price for that; lyney's just sad I'm sorry :( requested? — requested by @ceneid notes — thank you so much for the request! hopefully it's to your taste, considering I've made it more sad if anything and it's a written piece with some texts messages included!!

XIAO

Any occasion to meet with friends is a worthwhile, so when Hu Tao invited both you and Xiao to her upcoming birthday party, you quickly agreed to come — of course, with the ‘pass’ from your partner.

He wouldn’t consider your friends to be the most enjoyable in the ‘company’ department, mostly because he considered them too loud for his liking. However, despite such displeasure, Xiao could still certainly say that your enjoyment was worthy of a few hours of his torture.. 

Unfortunately, not everything can go as we would like every time and that would be the situation the raven-haired man has found himself in. 

The moment the two of you stepped into Hu Tao’s apartment you were whisked away by some of your friends, leaving Xiao to fend for himself… Although he could see a smidge of displeasure across your face the moment one of the girls - Xiangling if his memory didn’t betray him - grabbed your arm. 

And well, that’s the situation he was stuck in for a while… Feeling like an accessory to your person, all while your friends have been chatting about how life was treating them. Being overstimulated was an understatement to of how he felt at the moment. 

Leaving the living room to get a breather only furthered him in the thoughts of feeling ignored… and perhaps a little bit jealous? Well, it’s not like he could voice his concerns with how you’ve been behaving throughout the evening.

Your phone vibrating multiple times in the past minute has piqued your curiosity, prompting you to open it to check the messages… Only to leave you in utter shock.

Not only have you realised that the time was more than what you expected… But your partner was about to leave to head home all without you. Guilt was most certainly creeping down your back. 

You replied to him as quickly as you could, hoping that he would stay true to his word of staying for a second longer.

— Hu Tao, we’re gonna head home now. - You tapped her shoulder, informing her that you and Xiao would be leaving in a moment. - Once again, happy birthday.

Grabbing your purse, you’ve made your way to the hall of the house, eyes meeting with the displeased look of your partner’s and the silent treatment already making its debut as you were leaving the building.

The car ride was borderline horrific - the tension between the two of you thick enough to cut with a knife… And albeit confused with Xiao’s behaviour, you needed to start the conversation in order to hopefully resolve the conflict between you.

— Can we talk about it? - You asked shyly, turning your head to search for some signs of willingness on his face. 

— Not that much to talk about. - Xiao sighed, not taking his eyes off the road. - I’m simply upset your friends can hog your attention for so many hours. 

Your eyes widened at the thought of his obvious statement of jealousy… And the next second, turned into immense guilt. You of all people should be aware of how he reacts in settings like those, and yet you kind of brushed that off.

— I’m sorry. - You stated, hearable sincerity in your voice. - I should’ve kept your feelings in mind, and yet I didn’t. 

Xiao… Was most certainly not expecting that. He could imagine multiple scenarios, in which you attack him for being jealous and possessive, and yet here you were - taking accountability for a minor mistake you’ve made. 

— I understand you wanted to enjoy some? time with your friends. - He stated. - Next time I won’t go. I don’t want to sour the mood. Spending time with your friends to the fullest is important, is it not?

Apologies have been exchanged between the two of you, topped with a night of eating fried tofu snacks and watching silly horror movies.

After all, friend time and Xiao time don’t have to land at the same time, do they? 

WANDERER

If you could use only two words to describe your partner - “prideful” and “boastful” are the first ones that come to mind. At this point you’re pretty sure, you’ve heard the story of Haypasia at least twenty times…

To Wanderer, your jealousy makes him thrive. As messed up as it sounds, to him it’s proof that you’re with him for real… That you won’t betray him, given the chance. On the other hand, you don’t appreciate that specific behaviour of his too much — One or two times might’ve been silly but the more he tends to engage in said actions, the more it makes you feel insecure.

His persistence is exactly what resulted in… let’s say a tad of joking.

You’ve known  Tartaglia for many months now. Introduced to you by your partner, the only interactions the two of you shared have been online. According to Wanderer, it’s due to Ajax’s constant traveling…

And yet the ginger says it’s due to other reasons. 

— [y/n], trust me. - He says cheerfully via voice chat during one of your gaming sessions. - That will absolutely make him fuming with jealousy! Hell, I’d be lucky to make it out alive after pulling that. -

You’ve found out that Tartaglia will just so happen to be flying to your city soon. Throughout the last few weeks, the two of you schemed a little plan to show your loving partner EXACTLY what jealousy is like In the end, you trusted the male to take reign over the performance that would happen in due time.

Sure — you felt a bit bad doing something that in your eyes seemed “malicious”, but with Wanderer’s persistent attempts and encouragement… Surely you needed your boyfriend to have a taste of his own medicine. 

And said time was about to come. 

You’ve agreed to pick up Ajax from the airport, excitedly speaking of this  being your first meeting in person. While you’ve sent each other pictures, albeit in your case it was Wandy sending a couple of photos of the two of you, this would be much, much different in comparison. 

— I still don’t understand what prompted you to pick up that ginger from the airport. - The raven-haired man scoffed, looking at the arrivals signs. Him and his silly ways of showing affection… 

— Well, I know that said ginger is quite an important person in your life. - You smiled, partially since you knew you were saying the truth as well as the chaos that was about to happen between the two of you.

Wanderer was almost about to say something, getting when he got cut off by the noise of someone running, getting increasingly louder and culminating in him getting tackled into a hug. 

— It’s so good to see you guys! - Tartaglia said, after leaving your boyfriend alone for a second before turning to you. - It’s so lovely to finally meet you in person, [y/n]… Pictures don’t do your beauty justice. - A kiss on your hand. 

To say you were flabbergasted would be an understatement. Sure, you agreed on him doing mild flirting… BUT THIS? And you were not the only one standing in utter shock. 

— What the fuck was that Childe? - Your partner asked, seeing red at the events unraveling right before his eyes.

— Common courtesy. - Tartaglia winked. - In my culture, it’s quite normal to kiss a lady on the hand when you greet her. 

Oh, the coyness in his voice spoke everything. He enjoyed every single second of the jealousy Wanderer was feeling. And to say that this interaction would be the last of your plan was a huge understatement.

Your phone has been pinging ever so often, with messages coming in from different social media — all from your boyfriend obviously. Tartaglia ordered a lovely dinner on his tab as ‘thanks’ for picking him up from the airport. This was also a way of the ginger giving you space, which posed as an opportunity to check what Wanderer was up to.  

LYNEY

Lyney feels as if he’s going to suffocate in the next few minutes. It’s not that he’s unhappy to be here. Frankly, he’s here to support you as a loving partner. It’s just that… The atmosphere here is rough. The situation at hand is reminding him is reminding him of all the times he has attended those funding meetings with his Father.

He proceeds to take a deep breath. “Anything for [y/n]” - Lyney whispers to himself. 

Speaking of yourself, here you are trying not to pass out from the stress you feel. You’re mere minutes away from giving a presentation on your project, which if received positively, will land you a promotion with a generous pay raise.

The possibility of this success comes with its price — the need to “suck” up to some of the more liked employees in hopes of getting their approval for your ideas. 

This is precisely how you’ve ended up in this situation… away from Lyney because archons only know why.  One moment you were introducing him as your partner to many of your work besties, and the next you’re in the middle of a conversation with the manager of another branch… Who - you would say - has a horrific sense of humour. 

— And I tell her “Can’t say I sleep like a log! After all, I don’t wake up in a fireplace”! - You force yourself to smile, fully cringing inside at the dad joke you’ve just heard. Hell, this guy isn’t even a dad… nor is he over thirty years old to be making jokes like these! 

— I see, I see. - You reply politely, fully intending not to show your hidden feelings at what you just have witnessed. Your eyes, however, wander to try and find Lyney amongst all these business-oriented people. And indeed you manage to locate him. 

Unfortunately for you — there’s clear evidence that your partner is not feeling his best… And since you’re the reason he even showed up to this setting, you feel like you need to check up on him. Therefore, you proceed to message him. 

From the messages it seems like your lovely partner is doing much better than before… However there’s this inkling in your brain that he might still feel jealous about this situation. 

— Thank you for the conversation. - You manage to finally get a word in with the manager who has been talking nonstop. - Unfortunately, I’m here with someone… and I feel bad leaving them unattended. I shall be taking my leave now. - 

With those words said, you proceeded to get to Lyney, finally getting a break from acting as a suck-up throughout the entire evening

— Hi lovely. - You say, catching your partner’s hand in yours. - I’m so sorry about leaving you all alone. - 

The guilt inside you can be felt both in your manner of speech, as well as in the grip you have on his hand. Lyney must be able to sense this, as he’s bringing your hand up for a loving kiss. 

— Pay that no mind. You’re absolutely forgiven, Muse. - He whispers, not wanting to bring more attention to you than necessary. - Besides, I’m sure you’ll repay me with all the kisses in the world once we get home.

It always turns out like this. A situation where you were supposed to be the one comforting your partner, turns its tables into him uplifting you with poetic words. The result of it being you - feeling the most courageous you have been throughout this entire business meeting.

In the end, your presentation goes more than well. You’ve knocked each point out of the park and even answered all the questions with merit! 

— I knew you would do amazing, bubs! - Lyney gives you a kiss on the cheek the moment you leave the venue where your presentation took place. - As expected of the magnificent Muse of the magnificent Lyney. 

He’s singing you — and himself by proxy, because he has to be stunning if his partner is that good — praises the entire road home, which makes you wonder… How in the world a singular person can go through so many behaviour patterns in the span of a singular night? 

date of posting - may 22nd 2024

[autistichalsin]

The fact that Halsin is almost certainly a recovering alcoholic is not discussed enough. Granted, the line that shows that this isn't just him not drinking much (like he tells you at the Grove celebration) is hidden behind a rarely-encountered party banter to Wyll.

Buuut here we go:

First is the aforementioned celebration discussion. Halsin doesn't go (as recovering addicts do- there's a reason alcoholics avoid bars and parties. If they go, they won't be able to resist). He tells the player with a smile that he only imbibes on special occasions because, basically, he can't hold his liquor. As Halsin tends to do when saying something that implies his trauma, he keeps it light. "I'd be bursting into song or declaring love for the first person I saw." Like it's just a funny little quirk.

Then comes the line to Wyll, which the player is not very likely to encounter, and Halsin still downplays a bit: "After the shadow curse, I became overly fond of honey mead and melancholy evenings by myself. Now I rarely imbibe - only on the most special of occasions."

Overly fond of not just the drink itself, but of "melancholy evenings by himself." Addicts often refuse to do their addiction in view of others, knowing the likelihood of being judged; this would have been compounded by Halsin, an apprentice-turned-leader, likely struggling to prove himself as worthy.

Wyll responds that he wants to break Halsin's dry streak (not grasping the depth of the issue), and Halsin doesn't respond- in the negative or affirmative. This indicates that he doesn't even consider breaking the Shadow Curse as a reason to break his sobriety.

Lastly comes the ending, where Halsin agrees to a drink. And immediately gives away something very telling: "Perhaps after a drink or five I'll be tempted to inflict some of my singing on you all - as if the city has not suffered enough."

Maybe if you are or know an addict, you spotted it. I'll give you a hint: it's not the jokes about his bad singing.

"Perhaps, after a drink or five".

Or five.

The instant Halsin imagines himself having a drink, it's not a drink or two; it's MANY. And yeah, sure, just saved the whole world, of course everyone's probably getting shit-faced-drunk, but he leaves no room for the idea that he could have just a single drink.

Which will be familiar for anyone who has spent time around addicts or is an addict themself.

I know it's understated, only being in a few scenes, and this one is easier to wave off than Halsin's sexual assault backstory. But I think it's still an important part of his story- showing how he struggles with control, and how he still carries a tremendous amount of trauma/PTSD from the Shadow Curse.

[pinkaditty]

Perv!Asmodeus Thoughts (Obey Me: SWD)

hihiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii this was totally 100% self indulgent it's just me thinking about Asmodeus if he was just a little more unhinged

summary: you're so innocent. he's quite the opposite.

a/n: can't really 100% say that this was inspired by anything ive just been thinking about Asmodeus and wanted to give him a little appreciation. admittedly perverted characters just... do it for me. my guilty pleasure lol <3 anyways anyways!!! answering more asks by the weekend or tmrw it depends on how much free time I have!!!! and am almost done with pervert pt 3!!!!! woo!!

cw: perverted behavior, creepy behavior, no penetration/sex but sexual acts mentioned, masturbation, non-con (no r*pe or anything just really weird scenarios in which one party is oblivious), cum eating, and other weird things that i don't really know how to tag, not proofread.

MINORS DNI AS PER USUAL!!!! PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY!

You're so innocent. And god, it drives him crazy. Your eyes make the most perfect alluring expressions, your lips curve into the most perfect smiles, and your body shaped so wonderfully… he can't help it if he feels a little wanting.

At first, he attempts to stifle it… keep it under wraps as much as he can. Sure, his eyes wander, but as soon as he starts imagining what you may look like under those clothes, he quickly tears his eyes away and censors his thoughts as much as he possibly can. Unusual for the Avatar of Lust, but he knows once he starts, he will not stop.

Saliva collects in his mouth so much he has to gulp it down as he watches you eat, teeth tearing and tongue licking and lips slurping. It makes him wonder, would you treat his flesh the same? Biting, licking, and slurping, leaving marks in your wake, swallowing down whatever juices spring forth from him before he is wrung dry? He often finds himself palming himself at the dinner table, completely enamored by your idle consumption of food, leaving his plate to grow cold from neglect. Even watching you walk is pure torture. He watches as the fabric hugs and rubs against your thighs, your ass, your torso, and your waist especially… He imagines how easy it would be to tear it apart, to simply lose control and throw the useless fabrics to the side, caring much more about the skin underneath. Sitting behind you in class proves to be a challenge, much more so when you're wearing that perfume he recommended. He bites his thumbnail until it bleeds, gripping his uniform pants, trying his hardest to resist the alluring scent of your perfume. The perfume is fine on its own, but mixed with your natural scent, it tears him apart.

As far as you are concerned, Asmodeus is a close friend, one you can come to in any scenario. He's proven himself worthy of your trust in your eyes, so you find it fit to spend time with him. Little do you know that while you suspect Mammon is going through your trash to sell things, it's actually Asmodeus, stealing this morning’s finished coffee to lick off the remnants of your saliva on the rim of the cup. While you suspect Belphegor of stealing your pillows, it's actually Asmodeus, humping into them at night, creaming to the thought of you sleeping on the same pillows he's used for personal pleasures. While you suspect Satan of nicking away your magazines, it's actually Asmodeus, taking note of which pages you licked your fingers to turn, carefully licking those edges. While you suspect Beelzebub of stealing some of your open snacks, it's actually Asmodeus, jerking off pointed directly at them, leaving his essence there for you to enjoy but be oblivious to. While you suspect Lucifer of taking your pens on occasion, it's actually Asmodeus, writing on his body how much he craves you, and then using that pen to pleasure himself, leaving his scent all over it. While you suspect Leviathan of stealing your underwear, it's actually Asmodeus, burying his face in them at night, wearing them, jerking off inside of them, all until he sees fit to return them to the wash. He just can't stop. He especially loves it when you visit his room with your guard down, having no idea how much of him you've consumed, touched, and felt just from doing your daily activities.

He's on cloud nine with how deeply you trust him, enough to feed you various snacks during your weekly spa session. He watches as you lick the icing off a pastry, oblivious to how most of it is his cum, simply enjoying the sweet-salty contrast. He is impressed with how much you'll let his hands wander as he gets a general feel of your body while you're in a robe. He's choosing the cutest outfit he can think of, but first, he needs to get a feel for your body to know what looks good on you, which is a total lie. He's letting his fingers drift awful close to your chest, dragging his fingers as they gently graze over your waistband, and pausing for an unusually long time when his fingers reach your ass. He's hard as a rock, but who can tell?

When you leave, having used his body products - to the point where you smell like him - and having consumed various amounts of his bodily fluids, he dreams of you laying on a pillow that he used to masturbate, eating snacks that he's creamed all over, using pens to doodle that are covered in his essence, reading magazines that he's licked every corner of, and having no idea about it at all.

You're just so innocent. And god, it drives him crazy.

a/n: this is short but regardless I enjoyed writing it. if I have any more insane thoughts about perverted characters ill post more.

reminder that i love likes, comments, reblogs, and asks!! tell me how much you liked it or ask for more! I'd love to hear your thoughts! <3

[gi4hao]

a story of garden parties

neighbor!seungcheol x gn!reader

warnings: a vaguely implied mention of alcohol, lots of mentions of food, cheol taking his shirt off *bites lip*

your neighbor’s friends warned you: they’re often around. but that only means seungcheol always has room for one more person, especially if that person happens to be you.

march 24th, 11:41am

it’s the very last thing on your to-do list. something you only allowed yourself to do after cleaning your entire house and unpacking exactly thirteen full cardboard boxes: changing the nameplate on your mailbox. proudly admiring the way your family name states that this is, indeed, a house that now belongs to you, you feel a great sense of accomplishment rushing through your veins. of course you’re far from being done with moving in, but you have a feeling everything will go easy now that the hardships of paperwork are behind you.

on your right, the sound of footsteps and friendly chatters make you look away from your brand new mailbox. you count not one, not two, not even three people walking towards you, but seven. for a moment you wonder whether your neighborhood is something worthy of touristic visits… but watching these guys closely, you realize they’re all carrying food and drinks of various kinds, therefore eliminating the tourist theory.

you greet the group with a polite smile, and the seven of them utter scattered heys and hellos. only one of them actually speaks up:

“hi! are you the new tenant?”

“i am, yeah! i just moved in today. are you guys… neighbors of mine?”

they’re quick to inform you that none of them is actually living in this neighborhood, but that they’re all headed to your actual neighbor’s house, making the most of the sun to have a little get-together. a barbecue, specifically.

you’ve met your neighbor already, although only through hurried exchanges during your two visits of the place. he seemed like a nice guy, although you couldn’t quite remember right now.

“well, don’t hesitate to come and say hi! my name’s seungkwan, you might see us a lot around here if i’m being honest”, the same guy tells you, and you think they all must be pretty close to invite other people to each other’s houses.

may 20th, 1:30pm

“thanks!” you tell seungcheol as he hands you the drink you’ve been advised to try for months now, a creation straight out of joshua’s mind.

and indeed, you understand what the hype is about from the very first sip. you face translates your satisfaction, and causes seungcheol to crack you a smile.

“i needed that”, you admit, putting the glass down on the kitchen table. through the patio door, you get a perfect view of jeonghan trying his hardest to push mingyu in the pool. “thank you for inviting me by the way, it’s always nice to hang out with you guys.”

this is probably a more acceptable thing to say than the actual truth: that the main reason why you accepted the invitation was seungcheol himself.

“no worries, we like having you around”, he replies, getting started on his own drink. “is everything okay though? you seem a bit tensed.”

well, so much for trying your best not to look like you haven’t spent your entire morning having a breakdown over a multitude of sudden bad news.

you’ve gotten closer to seungcheol lately. the sunny weather brought many occasions for spontaneous conversations in your driveway, a few drinks at each other’s houses when the timing seemed right, and even a couple of parties. in other terms, you’re close enough to tell him when you’re feeling down, but maybe not close enough to always tell him why.

still, he’s always listened to you with a patient and reliable ear, making sure your interactions always felt comfortable for the both of you. but this sense of comfort is precisely the reason why neither of you seem willing to make a move.

you take another sip of your drink before answering: “i’m okay, nothing my beautiful new kitchen lights can’t fix.”

he chuckles, knowing you’re referring to the latest thing he’s done for you around your house. and his cheeks feel unusually hot. “well, feel free to ask if you ever need anything else. i don’t mind at all”, he smiles before walking around the kitchen table, motioning you to follow him outside.

your drink in hand as you step onto his wooden patio, you have to make a conscious effort to look away when he lifts his t-shirt over his head. lying on their deckchairs, minghao and jihoon are sharing knowing looks behind your back.

august 6th, 11:56pm

“am i even doing this right?” you ask, not really knowing whether you’re talking to yourself or not.

two hands come to rest on your shoulders, and you feel cheol leaving a kiss on the back of your head, making you instantly melt. “looks perfect to me”, he answers, looking at the chicken and vegetables sizzling on the grill.

you would take that as a compliment if it had come from anyone else, but since cheol has a tendency to believe that everything you do is perfection, you’re not really sure how much truth is behind those words.

so you pick up a slice of bell pepper with your fork, blow on it and turn around to feed it to him.

“perfect”, he confirms with a content smile, before leaning in to leave a kiss on your cheek.

behind him, you catch sight of seungkwan frowning in disgust: “don’t spread your cheesiness all over our food please. what if it’s contagious?”

reacting much quicker than you, cheol throws a towel that hits him right in the chest, all while simultaneously telling him to start handing around the plates.

“wow, someone doesn’t like to be called cheesy…”, you remark in an amused tone as you bring the first batch of food on the table.

“is it cheesy to say you’re the only one who’s allowed to say it?” he questions and pulls you closer for a kiss, fully knowing the answer to his own question.

sure, you guys might be a bit cheesy, but if you were to come up with an explanation, you’d say it’s just the natural release of months of pent-up affection. but everything feels so right now, and you can’t even remember the last time you felt alone, cheol’s presence and sturdiness being your safety net at every inconvenience in your life.

and as much as seungkwan and the others love to tease you for it, they’ll always cherish your fondness for each other, as long as it keeps on making their best friend the happiest man ever.

[inkspiredwriting]

A Hargreeves Wedding Anniversary

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

The Hargreeves home was abuzz with excitement as preparations for Five and Y/n Hargreeves’ wedding anniversary celebration were underway. The dining room was filled with the warm glow of candles and fairy lights, and the table was set with a feast worthy of the occasion.

Five’s siblings bustled about, adding their unique touches to the festivities. Klaus had strung up a mishmash of decorations, ranging from elegant garlands to a slightly tattered “Happy Anniversary” banner he’d found in a thrift shop. Luther was in charge of the grill outside, cooking up a storm. Diego set up a makeshift dance floor in the living room, while Allison curated a playlist of romantic songs. Viktor was tuning his violin, ready to provide a musical backdrop, and Ben and Sloane were handling drinks and dessert.

Five and Y/n were in their bedroom, getting ready for the evening. Y/n adjusted her dress in the mirror, a soft, flowing number that made her look radiant.

“You look stunning,” Five said, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“And you look incredibly handsome,” Y/n replied, turning in his embrace. Five was dressed in a sharp suit, a sight that made Y/n’s heart flutter.

“Can you believe it’s been eight years?” Five mused, resting his forehead against hers.

“Feels like yesterday we were saying ‘I do,’” Y/n said, smiling. “But then again, it also feels like a lifetime with everything we’ve been through.”

“A wonderful lifetime,” Five agreed, leaning in for a kiss.

The party kicked off with everyone gathered in the living room. Maddie, their six-year-old daughter, was bouncing around with excitement, while Milo, their two-year-old son, toddled about, chasing after a balloon.

“Happy anniversary!” Klaus exclaimed, rushing forward to hug Five and Y/n. “I’ve been counting down the days for this!”

“Thanks, Klaus,” Five said, patting him on the back. “The place looks… festive.”

“You mean chaotic,” Diego said, grinning as he handed Five a drink. “But that’s how we do things, right?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Five said, clinking his glass against Diego’s.

“Let’s get this party started!” Luther called out from the grill. “Dinner’s ready!”

Everyone gathered around the dining table, plates piled high with grilled meats, salads, and various side dishes. The room buzzed with chatter and laughter.

“To Five and Y/n!” Luther said, raising his glass. “May your love continue to grow and inspire us all.”

“Here, here!” everyone echoed, toasting to the couple.

Maddie was seated between Five and Y/n, her eyes wide with delight as she dug into her plate. Milo was in a high chair next to Five, gleefully munching on a piece of bread.

“This is perfect,” Y/n whispered to Five, squeezing his hand under the table.

“Absolutely,” Five agreed, his eyes soft with affection.

After dinner, Viktor began playing his violin, filling the room with soft, romantic music. Maddie twirled around the room in her pretty dress, her giggles adding to the joyful ambiance.

“I have a surprise for you,” Y/n said to Five, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh? What is it?” Five asked, intrigued.

“You’ll see,” Y/n said, standing up and heading to the small stage area Diego had set up. She took the microphone, and the room fell silent, all eyes on her.

“I wanted to do something special for you tonight,” Y/n said, looking at Five with a tender smile. “This song is for you.”

She began to sing “Love me tender” by Elvis Presley, a song that had become their unofficial anthem over the years. Her voice was clear and melodic, filling the room with emotion. As she sang, Five’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, his heart swelling with love and gratitude.

By the time Y/n finished, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Five stood up, walking over to her and pulling her into a tight embrace.

“That was beautiful,” Five said, his voice thick with emotion. “You always know how to make me cry.”

“Happy tears, I hope,” Y/n teased, wiping away a tear from his cheek.

“The happiest,” Five confirmed, kissing her deeply as the room erupted in applause and cheers.

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter and dancing. Diego and Klaus engaged in a ridiculous dance-off, much to everyone’s amusement. Allison and Luther led a conga line that wound through the entire house, with Viktor and Ben reluctantly joining in. Sloane and Lila teamed up to keep the drinks flowing, ensuring no glass was empty for long.

Maddie, now with a crown on her head from Klaus’s stash of props, dragged Five and Y/n to the dance floor.

“Come on, Daddy! You too, Mommy!” Maddie insisted, twirling around them.

“How can we say no to that?” Y/n said, smiling as she took Five’s hand.

“We can’t,” Five agreed, spinning Y/n around as they danced with their daughter.

As the night drew to a close, Five’s siblings gathered around for one last toast.

“To the best couple we know,” Klaus said, raising his glass. “May your love be as timeless as your dance moves are questionable.”

“Cheers!” everyone shouted, laughing and clinking their glasses.

“Thanks, everyone,” Five said, his arm around Y/n. “You’ve made this anniversary unforgettable.”

“You make every day unforgettable,” Y/n said, leaning into him.

With the party winding down, the guests started to leave. Five and Y/n stood at the door, saying their goodbyes.

“See you all tomorrow,” Five said, waving as the last of his siblings departed.

“We should do this more often,” Klaus called back. “Love you guys!”

“Love you too!” Y/n and Five shouted in unison.

With the kids tucked in bed, Five and Y/n finally had a moment to themselves. They sat on the couch, the room now quiet except for the soft hum of the music playing in the background.

“Happy anniversary, love,” Y/n said, resting her head on Five’s shoulder.

“Happy anniversary,” Five replied, kissing the top of her head. “Here’s to many more.”

They sat in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of a perfect evening.

“I think Maddie’s out like a light,” Five said, glancing at the baby monitor.

“Milo too,” Y/n added, snuggling closer to Five.

“I have another surprise for you in our bedroom,” Five smirked, standing up and extending his hand to Y/n.

“Lead the way,” Y/n smiled, taking his hand. They walked hand in hand to their bedroom, ready to enjoy a night full of passion and love.

[antisphinx]

i firmly believe they own a set of artisan ceramic tableware that they call "the fine china" that they only bring out for dinner parties and other such special occasions. and they have these beautiful hand painted scenes of gay sex on the plates and inside the bowls just like the ancient greeks. and they cost thousands and thousands of dollars

this one was so fucking hard lol

[xy-nox]

Happy belated 2nd B-Day to my blog. HASO: On the topic of birthdays

Birthdays are not a human concept. Tracking one’s age through time since birth is logical. It allows to you see how much time has passed and how much longer in your natural lifespan you have left, how much longer you have before you must mourn. Yet, on the day, one I’ve known all my time as melancholic and introspective was the same occasion humans deemed worthy of celebration. Celebrating life and not where death lurks. Counting time as an accomplishment and more than a number. That I find is a human concept. I’ve been to 30 and counting off such ‘Birthday parties’ in this life. I do hope my humans continue their rejoice. It’s a fondness I’d like to continue to allow myself.

[cool-thymus]

Rin Week 2023

A drabble and an illustration for the most special girl in Narutoverse.

Day 4 | November 15 Secret

Team Minato; Rin has a secret; Kakashi has a secret; Obito ...is asleep; they are all tipsy; this is supposed to be funny

The shinobi world is a cruel place. If you’re raised a ninja, it often feels like running naked through a nettle field. No matter how fast you are trying to get out, it always stings. Constant pain and misery touch your bare skin, and you slowly get used to it. The shinobi world is greedy too. It takes the people you love and hardly ever returns them. And you are expected to go with it, no questions asked. But as one Red-Hot Habanero shrewdly observed, this world had room for smiles, laughter, and occasional celebration, especially when your loved ones were given back to you. 

A team of three young shinobi of the Hidden Leaf was that lucky. But miracles didn’t just happen for them. They had to claw back their teammate from the darkness and then fight day and night for his life. Cry for each other and hold shaking hands; lose sleep and hug tight.   

Since then, the hardest and the happiest day of their lives turned into an anniversary that was celebrated as the team’s birthday, their own little festival. Kushina and Kakashi would prepare a feast making sure everybody’s favorite dish was on the menu. Rin was in charge of decorations and flowers. Every year she would make a special arrangement for the table and provide small bouquets for her teammates. The location for the celebration was Minato and Obito’s duty. They liked scouting out picturesque spots, preferably near water. The hike was their small ritual: they traveled alone, mostly in silence. Obito felt special because he was on the same task as the captain, but for Minato it was a pilgrimage to the day when he carried the dying boy back to the village cursing himself for every wrong choice he’d made. Now he let Obito lead the way watching how the 16-year-old jumped left and right like a puppy chasing a butterfly. He followed and silently renewed his vow to always have his back, always protect the kid he’d almost lost. 

This year they picked a cabin near a small waterfall. The view was worthy of the occasion, and there were enough rooms to stay overnight. The Namikaze-Uzumaki family had grown a new member who enjoyed the attention and liked making everything about himself. He was three. The baby added the ingenuousness that the team gradually grew out of, and he kept his parents occupied, so that Rin, Obito and Kakashi could have more privacy and party the way they wanted.

However, none of them was a party animal.  

***

“Isn’t he adorable?” Rin said quietly tugging at Kakashi’s sleeve. Obito had rested his head in her lap; his eyes were closed, lips parted; soft snuffling noises made it clear - he was fast asleep. 

“The word is ‘pathetic’, Rin. We didn’t even drink that much, and he’s already out like a light.” Kakashi took another sip of his beverage (being on good terms with the Sannin had its benefits: their favorite genius was allowed a drink of his choice now and then, in moderation though), “Or… maybe he just really wanted to get to his comfort place as soon as possible.”

“You mean he’s dreaming of something comforting?”

“I mean your lap.” 

Rin paused for a moment, startled with the misplaced sarcasm, but then smirked at him and continued stroking Obito’s hair. “Are you trying to be funny or irritating?” 

Kakashi’s snarky comments never worked on her; at least they never escalated into a full-scale fight like they did with Obito. Rin was just… smarter. If Kakashi all of a sudden started showing his sassy attitude, it only meant he was uncomfortable. She reached for his face and playfully squeezed his cheek like she would with their captain’s little son. 

“Rin, are you trying to be … cheeky right now?” He barely finished the sentence as they both started giggling. Making terrible jokes was their thing, especially when they were tipsy like that. 

“What is it, Kakashi? How did he piss you off this time?” 

“He didn’t. Everything’s fine.” 

“Come on now. You know you’ll feel better if you tell me. Is it because he kept teasing you about that girl?”

Kakashi pulled his mask down and drank some more, then he looked at Rin, the mask still under his chin. 

“Bingo,” said the girl with a half-smile. “You know he’s not trying to be insensitive, right? It’s just that you never talk to him about this kind of stuff, and he probably needs it. So he’s simply trying to start a conversation with you.”

Kakashi turned his gaze to the floor in front of him pulling his yukata over his knees.

“I know we’ve been over this, but… why don’t you just tell him?”

“Let’s not do this tonight, Rin.”

“You told me…”

“It was different with you! You had a thing for me, and it wouldn’t be fa…” 

Rin quickly pressed her finger to his lips, “Yeah-yeah! Let’s pretend you told me because I’m your best friend and not recollect the moment I made a fool of myself?”

Kakashi took her hand in his, bowed his head and pressed his forehead to the back of Rin’s hand, “I’m still sorry about that by the way.”

“Hatake Kakashi, stop being so suave, or my inappropriate feelings will return again!” 

They both started laughing causing Obito to stir in his sleep. Rin pulled Kakashi closer, and he moved to sit next to her, their attention returning to the sleeping teammate. 

“Although… he was kind of an ass to you today,” whispered Rin. “Do you want to teach him a lesson?”

“I might wanna teach him a lesson, yes. About the importance of respecting other people’s boundaries,” Kakashi whispered jokingly, but then, to his surprise, Rin carefully lifted Obito’s head, laid it onto Kakashi’s lap, and sprang to her feet.

“What are you doing?” 

“Be right back. Don’t wake him up!” she shot back and dashed to the hall.

Obito’s head felt heavy. Without Rin in the room, it was too quiet, and Kakashi could hear his friend’s breathing: in and out, the chest rising and falling, slowly, evenly; no gasping for air. “Good job, buddy. You’re doing a great job, just keep breathing, okay? Just like that.” His own words from a long time ago echoed in his mind, but he suppressed them right away reminding himself that there was no need to monitor Obito’s breathing anymore. He was okay now.     

Rin suddenly reappeared next to Kakashi, eyes sparkling with mischief. Noticing that his hands were still hovering near Obito’s temples, she gently nudged Kakashi out of his trance. When his eyes gained focus again she proudly demonstrated a black marker that she'd fished out from Kushina’s bag with the baby stuff.

“Are you actually going to draw on his face? Like a five-year-old?”

“Yep! Can you steady his head a bit, Mr. Boring?”

Kakashi’s hands reluctantly landed on Obito’s cheeks tilting his head in Rin’s direction. She proceeded to draw a funny-looking beard and a mustache. 

“You know, he can’t grow a beard anyway, so this is offensive as hell. Keep drawing.”

Rin raised her eyes at Kakashi covering her mouth to stifle a laugh. Then she started to draw a pair of very thick eyebrows. 

“Oh, that’s just cruel! He’ll never forgive you for making him look like Gai.”

“Me? Who said I was responsible for this? It’s totally your doing,” she said in a mockingly indignant tone as she traced out ‘Kakashi did this’ on Obito’s cheeks. 

“Hey! He’d happily let you off the hook, but me?! I’ll never see the end of it!”

Rin ignored Kakashi’s words, admiring her work. 

“Isn’t he adorable?” Having said that, she was carefully watching her friend whose left hand was still resting on Obito’s cheek. 

“Yeah… he is.”

“Kakashi, you can tell him. He’ll be okay with it, I promise.” 

There was a minute of silence between them.

“But you can’t promise me that, Rin. What if he’s simply weirded out by it? Or feels uncomfortable? What if he stops hanging out with me at all?”

“That’s not gonna ha…”

“I know! I know this is probably not gonna happen, but what if it does? What if I'm not a part of his life anymore? You were there, Rin; it was hell without him. I’m just… I’m not ready. I’m not ready to lose him… again.”

“Kakashi, you idiot! Did you really think I would…” Obito opened his eyes and tried to prop himself up with his elbows, but in an instant a very precise hand hit several chakra points on his neck knocking him unconscious. 

“Kakashi! You can’t do that! Why did you hit him?!” 

“It was a reflex, okay!” They both leaned over to check on Obito.

“Has he been awake the entire time?” Kakashi was getting worried.

“How should I know? Seriously, Kakashi, I just wanted you to be honest with your best friend, and you go and do this?!”

“I said I didn’t mean to knock him out, okay?! And by the way, maybe you should stop berating me? It’s not like you’re completely honest with him either. Did you have enough courage to tell him about your secret nurse-boyfriend?”

“Rin?! You have a bo…” Obito regained consciousness but only for a few seconds before another hand made him pass out again.

“RIN!”

“I’m sorry!” 

@rinweek2023

[josnhoes]

I would love to see if reader had a crush on someone, like she was madly in love and yandere Jason Todd, Yandere Damian Wayne, and Yandere Tim Drake found out. (Maybe yandere dicks reaction as an extra)

I'm going to assume this is in the young adult reader verse. So platonic (though since you said she I will use fem pronouns), if you wish for a romantic yandere separate from that verse let me know.

Note to readers this is a side story to the young adult reader story. It is not directly canon due to the use of gender.

Warning: Fem reader, yandere, murder mentions, obsession, over protective,

Jason knew his Sparky had a lot of love to give, and he figured eventually you'd end up in love. Granted, he'd figured since you never were outside of the manor without someone at your side that you wouldn't get a chance to. Oh boy, was he wrong.

The person in question was some rich kid who attended almost every gala or party due to their parent's part in the various charities Bruce ran. He knew because he'd tried to get Bruce to stop inviting them just so this blooming romance would fade. Yes, he was a romantic at heart, but he couldn't agree to *you* being the one involved in romance. You were too young and naive.

Since he couldn't get them uninvited and his siblings were failing as your guards and keepers, it looked like he'd have to step in. Jason had learned that despite Bruce's moral high ground of no murder that whenever the Wayne princess was involved murder was sanctioned. It was the only exception Bruce made. Usually he'd be pissed someone was more worthy of being killed for by Bruce, hadn't Jason been worthy of vengeance? But his baby sister was someone he saw as worth killing for too so Bruce got a pass...this time.

If he were a more patient man, he'd have dragged Tim in on this; but he wanted this budding romance gone. So he took care of it. You'd mourn, probably have a few breakdowns, but you didn't need to know it was him. Gotham *was* dangerous. After all, it could have been anyone who shot them.

Damian was somehow the most protective of the brothers; which said a lot since the entire family was willing to kill for you. But Damian was the one willing to torture for you. But for his devotion, he expected you to give him attention. Ideally, he'd be the focus of your attention, but he realized he had to share with his family.

That being said, anyone outside of the family he absolutely refused to let you give them even an ounce of your attention. Exceptions were people like doctors or therapists. As your brother, he wanted you to be healthy after all. Still when your attention wavered from the family to some budding socialite from the Galas he was enraged.

Not at you, he realized as a human on so sheltered his darling sister would naturally crave bonds with others. Romantic ones were inevitable; and maybe some day when you were older and it was someone he could approve of he would have let it continue. This was not that. This was an unknown; one who would put you in more danger.

He debated what to do about this problem. Clearly he had to keep you both apart. Tripling his hovering in galas and the rare occasions you left the manor. But that wasn't enough for him. Damian knew a proper threat and maybe some light torture would scare them away from you, the only question was did he do it in his old league uniform or as Robin.

The league of shadows garb would ensure the continued positive image of the vigilantes, but the Robin costume would make people second guess the socialite and their sanity. Well he'd hoped so, then again he *was* known as the stabby Robin. League gear it was.

No matter your feelings for this person, Damian knew you'd get over them. You had him. You didn't truly need anyone else.

Tim was all for giving you online freedom. Or an illusion of it anyway. Everything you did was monitored, and any attempt to lash out and try and call for help was prevented by your device's new program. But you hadn't even tried that in months; he'd figured you'd finally stopped trying to rebel, but that wouldn't gain you any extra freedom.

Your emotional attachment to the new person was worrisome. The socialite had approached you and charmed you at an event when Dick was supposed to be watching you. From there, a small romance began budding online. A fact that was loathed by Tim. As your big brother he had to protect your honor.

He was saving physical retaliation for a last ditch option. Instead, he'd planned a mind game. Hacked phones and social media leaking the socialite's secrets. Bank accounts being flagged. Even forging a few criminal charges. Every bit of their life was going to suffer.

Some would say that was more cruel than simply physically handling them, but Tim knew those kind of things were far longer lasting. You would see the worst in them, and if that didn't keep you apart, then the way their life would burn would keep them too busy for you.

If all of that failed, Tim had no problem making them disappear.