#and they were set on a lamp bought for ME

[girlsoutlate]

there is a light that never goes out

simon returns home from deployment and is safe with his girl, but fireworks in late november send him back for a brief moment. the hope of you never leaves but neither does the memories of war

light angst, flashbacks, potential PTSD, mention of battle, everything gets resolved, partially inaccurate portrayal of flashbacks?

simon could not be any more content than he was at this moment. his breathing was slow, watching the rise and fall of your head on his chest instead of whatever you were chuckling about on TV. you two weren't under the covers, since you insisted simon runs hot even as december approached. a dim glow was cast around the room from a pretty lamp you bought, while the growing cold was shut out by thick velvet curtains. two china plates rested on the bedside table with a few crumbs of whatever sweet treat simon picked out for you to share after the dinner you made.

thats one specific thing he missed while on his deployment: your cooking. MRE's tasted like school dinners at best or dog food at worst. eating became a necessity, a chore while he was gone. it physically pained him to think about your delectable cooking, even more so you eating it at a table set for one. when he walked through the front door three days ago and smelt simmering spices wafting through the air, he knew he was home.

he knew he was home with his pretty girl. a soft, patient thing; not being thrown off by the ghost persona that was reluctant to melt away this time. he hated it, never wanting you to see that part of his life. but you helped, nails dancing across his skin or soft lips lingering a second longer. you reminded him he was really here, with his love. until he wasn't.

the glowing bliss of your bedroom was shattered by a whizz and a bang from outside. it was too close- too close to you. his love, his darling- you were going to get hurt. the thick smoke of bombs clouded his vision. hot sand burned his throat. fiery sun beat down on his back, scalding his nerves. yet he was clammy all over. cries of death and injury rang around his head. a shrill scream of terror that sounded too much like you shot through his head. eyes stinging with tears and sweat he clawed his way towards that scream. another resounding bang clattered against his skull. pure fear curdled the blood in his veins, consuming his entire being. it was too close, he needed to save you.

it was only a split-second but it felt like a lifetime to simon. he sprang himself on to you, thick arms tightly cradling your head into his chest, bodies pressed together to the point of you struggling to breath. his eyes screwed shut, heart pounding with panic while you lay there in bewilderment and fear at the sudden movement.

in that moment simon died for you, and you both knew he would a thousand times over. he would do anything for his girl, even if it meant being apart forever.

quickly you understood what was happening. you knew simon had an especially difficult deployment as communication dwindled over the month, yet you never expected something like this. he kept what happened while he was gone to himself, and how he felt about it even more so. wrapping your arms around his tense torso you slowly ran your hand up and down his back. "simon, we are here and we are both safe. you have nothing to worry about i promise. we're here in our house that we bought together. its just some idiots letting off fireworks way past bonfire night." you felt him falter at this and decided to continue.

"we ate dinner that you helped me cook a while ago, do you remember? you kept eating the sauce and had to remake it about three times" you let out a small chuckle, hoping your casualness and recollection of your day together would get through to him. "on your way back from the shops earlier you picked up a sweet treat for us to share. i was so happy i almost ate it all, do you remember what it was?" simon slowly lowered his body on to yours, hazy head resting on your chest.

"brownies" he mumbled. you grazed your fingers through his loose curls as you two set in to a steady silence. the idiots had moved on to another far away street. all you could hear were the trees rustling in the wind, the drone of a lonesome car and the hum of the forgotten program on the tv. a few minutes passed like this until simon suddenly got out of the bed. "i'm sorry" he softly said, voice clipped from choked back emotion "you shouldnt ave to deal wiv tha', wiv me".

"oh simon" you raised slowly of the bed and carefully hugged him. simons thick arms with a litter of new bandages, scratches and bruises encircled you gently and rested his head on top of yours. you said, muffled by his chest "i'll deal with anything because i love you simon. nothing will stop me being there for you whether you like it or not, so please don't apologise".

a small smile grew on simons face while a sigh escaped his lips "you were neva' good at listenin were ya?". you let out a soft giggle and shook your head.

"i love ya too, doll" he replied.

thanks for reading!! likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated :)))

out of practice writing and i havent written something like this before so i hope at least someone enjoys it loll.

[lazyspeedy]

sorry to be cliché but i really hate men sometimes :/

[nomairuins]

the connor room glowup (above is my washington room below is my now room ^_^)

[alchemistc]

"I am not packing your kitchen, Buck," Maddie says with a hard set to her jaw and a hand planted on her hip, and Evan sends her a warning look over his shoulder, elbow deep in packing tape and half-folded boxes. Tommy is clearly missing something.

"You found the ring cutter in there with the ladles too, huh?" Snipes Eddie from somewhere in the vicinity of the bathroom, and before Tommy can get a firm grasp on that Eddie's tipping his head back through the open doorway. "C'mon guys, seriously, you didn't pack this shit up before you forced us all to help you pack?" There's an unopened tube of lube in his hand.

"I'm getting things off of walls and that is all, Evan Buckley," comes Maddie's quick rejoinder, and Buck levels them both with a look.

"That could be for normal stuff! Sometimes rings need cutting! Sometimes you need to - lubricate other things!"

It is, of course, the moment Bobby wanders through the unlocked door.

Tommy's still familiar with the cadence of Hen and Howie, ribbing and mocking a form of endearment for them both, so he's not exactly shocked when Bobby just rolls with it and starts listing off the last fifteen calls they've needed it for. None of those things particularly improve the red rising up Evan's cheekbones, but Tommy catches the grin Bobby's hiding while he sets boxes of pizza up at the kitchen table, cleared of the latest seasonal decor Evan had dragged him through three different department stores to find, not that he could be bothered to care when the very existence of them was all it took to shift Maddie's opinion of him from tolerantly friendly to encouragingly approving.

("This loft was a minimalists wet dream before you were in the picture," she'd told him one evening, after she'd manipulated him into admitting he was terrified this didn't mean the same thing to Evan as it did to him. "He started nesting a month after my wedding, Tommy.")

And now they're here. Watching Evan pretend to be miffed by the teasing while he fights a roll of packing tape.

He's going to miss the upstairs shower, wide enough for two grown men to fit more than comfortably; and the balcony on cooler nights when he could tempt Evan out for a slow dance set to the late-evening traffic; the kitchen island at the perfect height to lift Evan onto and tilt his head up for an angled kiss.

He won't miss the open plan that makes it impossible to do much of anything with a snoring Eddie right below them, the tuba player two doors down who only seems to practice the moment Tommy's head meets the pillow at the end of any random days-long shift, the way the elevator always smells like tuna on Thursday afternoons.

There are things he won't have to miss, of course. Evan, on nights when they just can't make their schedules align well enough to justify the drive time. The extra fluffy towel set Evan had refused to reveal the origin of ("You'll buy your own and leave me, I know you're only with me for my towels."). The pictures plastered to the fridge that Tommy's spent the last few weeks plotting out space for on his own before deciding he'd need a new fridge just to fit them all. The plant he'd bought Evan to appease the grump, the first time he'd dragged him to the farmers market at the ass crack of dawn, lovingly named Herbert. The fancy adjustable bedside lamps Evan had bought the last time he'd caught Tommy squinting down his reading glasses at the book in his hands. Evan.

Christ, he wouldn't have to miss Evan anymore. They'd synched up their schedules more or less as well as they could, but Tommy's spent months now trying to ignore how quickly a sleepless night could turn restful with Evan in his bed - how fitful a night without him there had a habit of being.

Most of the loft is already packed. Evan's wardrobe has been dwindling for weeks now, a box at a time carted from the back of the Jeep up Tommy's drive, through the mud room, down the hall and straight to the closet that had never seen such a shock of color or variety of fabric. They'd sprung for a bigger mattress, once they'd gotten over the sticker shock and remembered how much they'd be saving by paying half a mortgage each with no rent to speak of, and other than the kitchen table most of Evan's other furniture was being donated.

All that really remained were the kitchen supplies Evan hadn't been willing to move until he handed over his keys, a few toiletries, a single drawer of clothes just in case he needed them. Pictures on the walls and stacks of books on the bookshelves - half a decade of life lived in this apartment and most of it was already half unboxed and slowly integrating into the fifteen years Tommy had put into his own solitary life.

Evan finishes taping boxes and makes a beeline for his itemized list, and Tommy has to pretend it's giving him as much grief as Evan's sister and best friend to see the clipboard in action. He's not entirely sure how well he sells it, when even Bobby's shooting him aggrieved looks only to grimace at whatever he finds in Tommy's expression.

And just like that, an hour passes and the pizza disappears; the boxes are loaded into the back of his truck; the kitchen table in Eddie's; and Maddie tugs her brother in for a hug, drags Tommy in for good measure too, kisses them both on the cheek as she leaves; Bobby tucks a wooden box filled with handwritten recipes on note cards into Evan's hand and Tommy pretends not to notice either of their teary eyes; Eddie hefts a six pack out of the otherwise empty fridge and promises to meet them at the house in forty-five.

There's still one picture stuck to the fridge - a candid from the first barbeque Athena and Bobby had hosted after their move, Tommy and Evan backlit by a setting sun, tucked up against each other leaned against a porch railing, and Tommy knuckles at it while Evan does a slow introspective spin to take in the wide expanse of windows and brick. He's still staring when Evan finishes and drifts towards him, hands tucking in at Tommy's waist, chin hooking over his shoulder.

"Is this one staying?"

Evan shakes his head, nose digging into the side of Tommy's neck. "Just wanted to keep it out so it could be the first one we put up."

He remembers the night. Karen had gotten him drunk and added him to the wives group chat. May Grant had stolen half his slice of cake right off his plate and dared him to protest. Jee had spent the entire night calling him Uncle Tommy and thrown a massive fit when she realized he wasn't going home with her to read a bedtime story. Christopher and Denny had spent half an hour trying to teach him how to play Fortnite and then been mystified when he trounced them in Mario Kart. He knows exactly why it's significant to him. "Why this one?" he asks, curving into the cradle of Evan's arms.

Evan's so much better with words than Tommy is, and Tommy's just grateful Evan takes his actions for the things he means with them. "That's the night I knew what our something was gonna be," Evan murmurs, and Tommy tips his chin back and angles his head to catch Evan's lips against his own.

[zephyrchama]

(obey me!) moments where they fall in love with you all over again

---01

It’s dinner, and you’re talking about mundane things that happened during your day. You saw a cool bird, got some gum stuck on your shoe, and bought a new flavor of toothpaste to try. Everyone is listening intently. If only they would pay this much attention in class.

Lucifer knows the way his brothers look at you all too well. It’s a look full of respect, admiration, and fondness. It’s a look that’s often reflected on his own face when in your presence. At first he never really understood why you put up with his siblings, as the option to ignore them and be on your way was always there. Yet you continue to make time for them anyway. How unusual.

Moments like these where everyone is together and you don’t treat them as the Seven Rulers of Hell, you just treat them as your dear friends and family. That’s what makes Lucifer soft. He tries to imagine a long future of things staying just like this.

---02

Mammon’s hesitant to lend anybody money, even you. It takes a few minutes to butter him up and fluff his ego before he relents. At last, he hands you the crispest bill in his wallet. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” he kids, knowing full well he’d do just that if he was in your shoes.

He’s curious what you plan to buy. It never dawns on him that you have no intention of spending the cash. Half an hour later, he finds it on his desk. The exact same bill, now creased and folded neatly into an origami bird.

He picks it up to wiggle the little paper wings, entranced, then looks around frantically and catches your eye. A playful smile graces your face and tugs at his heartstrings.

---03

Leviathan is not typically one to make mistakes when it comes to anime. But even he’s not perfect.

He had it set in his mind that the new show premiered at 6:00pm, which left plenty of time to prepare the ultimate solo viewing party after school. He was humming quietly to himself when you walked over. “Isn’t your show starting soon?”

You specifically took an interest in his hobbies. You remembered that it started at 16:00 (four o’clock), not 6:00. Leviathan wondered, how could he make such a egregious mistake? You were the one who dashed back to the House of Lamentation at full speed by his side. When your human stamina started failing, he unconsciously picked you up so you’d both make it in time. You made it with two minutes to spare.

Sweaty and out of breath, still in uniform, you were able to watch the premiere together. It wasn’t until after credits rolled, you went elsewhere, and the live reactions on social media started calming down that Levi realized what a big deal this was to him. What a big deal you were to him.

---04

Satan wasn’t expecting you to be spacing out in his favorite armchair. He had plans to read in it that evening, and considered asking you politely to move. But the way the lamp light shines on your skin, the thoughtful expression on your face while pondering ideas unknown. The way your lips part ever so slightly and your eyes gaze off into nothing. It captivates him. You look like a painting. His breath gets caught in his throat, and in clearing it he manages to break your trance.

“Oh, hey. Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were there.”

You go to get out of the chair, but Satan insists you stay. It doesn’t look right without you anymore. He doesn’t feel right without you anymore.

---05

Asmodeus does not have wardrobe malfunctions often. His outfits are of the highest quality and a lot of care goes into putting them on. Still, things happen.

When his fans rush forward out of nowhere, sometimes they are successful in tearing his clothes. A fistful of shirt here, a mouthful of pants-leg there. Being in the center of a lust-fueled stampede can make even the most collected people lose their minds, but you are steadfast. You shout at the rabid demons, shaming them for their disrespect. You believe you can chase them off all on your own, not knowing that the Avatar of Lust behind you is exuding a killer aura and warning his fans to back off with a powerful glare.

As you sloppily stitch up what remains of his shirt so he can walk home without the incident repeating, Asmodeus is smiling from ear to ear. You’re so focused on genuinely helping that you don’t even notice the bedroom eyes he’s flashing. The scene of you waving your arms and trying to chase off a pack of demons as if they were stray pigeons is permanently ingrained in his memory. Just as your existence is ingrained in his soul.

---06

Beelzebub knows what he likes. He knows what will catch his interest and is pleasantly surprised when a new one crops up.

One thing he likes is you. Another is food. Both are in the cafeteria. He piles a tray high with carbs and goes looking for you at lunch time, finding you seated in the middle of a long table at the edge of the room. He calls your name.

It’s unexpected, the way you quickly swing your head up mid-bite. Your cheeks are full and noodles dangle from your mouth, sauce dripping back onto your plate. Your eyes light up as you look at him from below. It makes him stop in his tracks, causing several shorter demons to walk into him. Such a simple action, yet so profound. You hurriedly chew and offer him a seat while Beelzebub powers through his emotions. He takes a seat across from you to offer a napkin, wondering when he’ll see that face again.

---07

It’s late, far past everyone’s bedtime. Yet Belphegor forgot to tell you something during the day and decided now would be a great time. When you don’t respond to the quiet knocks at your door, he lets himself inside. Your sleeping figure looks too comforting to resist and he gets the brilliant idea to crawl into bed with you to whisper in your ear.

The problem is, as soon as he lifts the covers, you fart. It’s loud. You don’t move an inch, remaining fast asleep and ignorant of what just happened.

Belphegor freezes in his tracks to process it, but is soon doubled over on the futon laughing. The vibrations wake you. You sleepily open your eyes to see who is in hysterics and ask the obvious: “what?”

Belphegor is laughing too hard to tell you. He doesn’t want to tell you. It’s too priceless. You groggily smack him with a spare pillow and it makes him laugh harder. While he loves to look at you, that week it becomes difficult for him to meet your eyes without erupting into a fit of giggles.

[wileys-russo]

Hoy

"I challenge you to a duel "with pollito/barca femeni at the ikea/training ground

part of the pollito universe the duel II barça femeni

"ow! puta." you hissed, rubbing your shin where mapi had rammed it with the trolley, lunging at her before a hand grabbed the back of your hoodie halting you.

"behave kärlek, we are in a public setting." frido warned sternly as your eyes bugged in disbelief. "but she just-" you tried to defend yourself as the tall swede shut you down with a firm look, letting go of you as you mumbled you'd behave.

your eyes narrowed into a glare as mapi smiled smugly, walking side by side with ingrid who was clearly trying to plan out what was needed, pinching her girlfriend whose attention immediately returned to her.

"por favor can i-" you started to ask, spotting a cool looking lamp in one of the display sections. "no." frido answered right away, not even turning to look as she continued on ahead.

"frido!" you huffed, hurrying to catch up with her long legs. "alexia said you came here with them last week and you don't need anything else." the blonde chuckled with a smile, arm falling across your shoulders as you groaned.

"nobody lets me do what i want. i'm not a little kid!" you huffed making frido laugh. "of course not den lilla." the swede cooed sarcastically pinching your cheek rather sharply as you grunted and wrenched her hand away.

"well why am i even here if i 'don't need anything'?" you mocked, shrugging off frido's arm and shoving your hands into the pockets of your hoodie. "because they made me come, and i do not wish to be a third wheel all day, so i made you come to keep me company." the defender answered with a grin.

"frido! kom och titta." ingrid called, inspecting several different throw pillow options as the blonde pinched your cheek again and hurried off to catch up with the norweigan before you could hit her.

"so much for company." you grumbled to yourself.

mapi was across the aisle inspecting a large wooden bookshelf, clearly trying to measure its length using her forearm which was not working well as you made your way over, the opportunity presenting itself all too easily.

you kicked at the back of her knee, hitting it at the right angle to send her falling down to the ground as you snickered and she just caught herself, head whipping around to glare at you.

"get off maría!" you whined as she grabbed you in a headlock, messing up your hair as you fought to shove her away, swearing at the older girl under your breath whose arm only tightened its hold on you.

"hey!" you both paused, ingrid stood a few feet away with arms folded across her chest and eyebrows knitted into an unimpressed scowl. "pollito started it!" mapi protested, pushing you away and tutting as you swung at her and she ducked with a grin.

"i do not care who started it. act your age maría-" you snickered at that, whining as the girl rolled the trolley over your foot. "oh lo siento pequeña, un accidente." mapi cooed with a sarcastic pout as your eyes narrowed.

"vamos, i am not getting lost in here." mapi grabbed the trolley and nodded for you to follow, hurrying after the two scandi's who were already a good hundred metres ahead.

"whats on your list?" you asked a few minutes later, annoyance already forgotten as boredom had kicked in and you leaned your body into mapi hugging her who chuckled, tilting her phone toward you.

"dios mío your list is almost as boring as ale's." you rolled your eyes as she flicked your ear fondly. "we had to get photo frames, clothes pegs, a cutting board, a new blanket for the couch, a water jug!" you groaned at the memory, not even having been allowed to walk through the display section like you'd wanted to but dragged right to the shopping hall.

olga had at least taken pity on you and bought you all lunch at the cafeteria afterwards, and pretended not to notice when you tossed a few things that were not on her girfriends list into the cart, alexia a woman on a mission.

but that didn't stop the blonde from questioning the pair of you on every single choice despite already knowing in her mind which she preferred, sending you daggers every time you'd groan loudly and verbally express your boredom, catching the attention of fellow shoppers who looked on with disapproval.

"oye pollito, which one?" you slid your phone into your pocket and looked up at mapi's voice, eyebrows creasing as she held up two near identical coaster sets. "mapi...they're the same." you sighed with a shake of your head as she scoffed.

"no. look this one has stripes that go yellow, orange, red. this one has stripes that go red, orange, yellow!" the spaniard exclaimed as you rolled your eyes and grabbed one, turning it over and handing it back to her as she paused.

"oh. they are the same." she shrugged, tossing both of them into the cart as you wanted to pull your hair out but refrained, instead silently screaming behind her back as you dragged your feet and followed after her into the kitchen section.

"hey pay attention! this is important work." your phone was snatched out of your hand and slipped into frido's pocket as she passed, having stepped away to call her fiance before hurrying to catch up with ingrid and taking your phone with her despite your protests.

"nena." you looked over with a bored expression toward mapi who suddenly threw a wooden spoon at you, chuckling as you missed it by a mile and it clattered to the floor quite loudly.

"cata would have caught that." the defender tutted with a smirk as you flipped her off and picked it up. "no no, keep it. you will need it!" mapi warned as you went to put it down, giving her an odd look as she glanced around to make sure the two of you were mostly alone.

"why? i hate cooking and ale has like five of these." you frowned in confusion as mapi's cheeky grin only grew. "because, i challenge you to a duel." mapi held her own wooden spoon up as if it was a sword as your face lit up.

"oh you are on león." you grinned, matching her position as she counted down. "vaya!" she announced, launching at you as you laughed and smacked her wooden spoon away with her own, the two of you ducking and lunging at one another as your spoons clacked and smacked.

"bah! vale, match point." mapi huffed as your spoon poked at her chest again. "vaya!" she lunged again as you ducked and rolled suddenly, causing her to stumble forward not aware of her own momentum as she tripped and went flying into a crate of measuring cups.

the spoon fell from your hand as it hurried to cover your mouth, watching on with wide eyes as the walls of the crate shook and creaked before snapping, mapi sailing away on a wave of kitchen ware and an almighty noise thundered through the air as footsteps hurried and a crowd formed.

you held your hands up in defense and stepped back as a worker began to question what happened, acting as if you had no idea who mapi was or what happened as the defender gasped at your betrayal.

but you winced as hands fell to your shoulder and you knew who it was before she even spoke, ingrid appearing shortly afterwards as frido stood firmly behind you, hands gripping your shoulders in warning not to move.

"amor there is something you must know..."

mapi's mouth opened and closed trying to finish her sentence as fear set into her gaze at the withering glare coming from her girlfriends eyes as she held up a finger and pointed right at you.

"...this was all pollitos fault!"

[freshxsturniolo]

i want you there - chris sturniolo x fem!reader

REQUEST : Hey! Could you maybe do something about y!n and Chris going on vacation in like a lodge or something in the woods or mountains and just having the best time ever! (Also with nick, matt and Nate)

i hope this is okay!!! i had so many requests for more chris fluff too so i made this sweet and mushy 🥹

when chris had asked you to come on his boys trip, you had thought he was joking. you were flattered and happy enough to have been ask to go to boston with him in the fall, now becoming a loved member of his family due to being his girlfriend, but you were more than aware how important his trips away with his brothers and best friend, nate, truly was.

"you're joking" you said as you sat on the couch the night before, glass of wine in hand. he shrugged.

"no. why would i be joking?" he asked, his hand on your knee as you sat with your feet up, blanket over your knees as you were reading your book whilst he packed his bag for the following few days.

you sit your book down on the ledge of the couch at the same time mary-lou walks in, and she gives you a smile as she sees you both, which you return before looking back at chris.

"because your boys trips are like, your favourite weekends ever, are they not?" you say again, and chris gives you another shrug.

"okay?" he says, genuine confusion to his face at your question.

"well, i don't exactly want to intrude. have you spoke to the boys about it?" you ask now, and chris rolls his eyes.

"you're literally nicks favourite person, i wouldn't even need to ask. but yes, i did. and they're all okay with it. i want you there."

it was the 'i want you there' that had done it. you were planning to just spend a few days in boston by yourself, grab coffee in a morning and read your book in the park, come home and help mary-lou around the house. you genuinely had not considered going with them for their weekend away. but the look on chris' face made you want to melt, and so you smiled deeply and agreed.

so now you let out a deep sigh, stretching out your back as you place your bag down on the floor of the shared bedroom of yours and chris' for the next few days in the log cabin they had booked. it smelled like wood and pumpkins and it was absolutely perfect. four poster bed, bedside lamps illuminating a soft glow around the room. you could hear chris and the rest of the boys laughing away in the background before the door swung open, and chris' beautiful smiling face met yours. he shut the door, flung his bag down on the floor, and before you knew it he was running over to you, picking you up by the waist and spinning you in a circle.

"chris!" you half screamed, half laughed, before he eventually dropped you back down, his hands snaking to your hips as he pulled you into him, pressing a deep kiss to your lips.

"hi baby" he smiles. and you chuckle as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"hi" you smile.

it had been a long car journey and with only one stop, you were aching from head to toe. you were dying to get out in the late autumn afternoon sunset that was setting outside the windows and stretch your legs. you weren't sure if thats something the boys would want to do, but you were happy to go alone.

"i missed you" he whined, and you laughed.

"we just had a 4 hour car journey side by side." you said, and he leant forward and nuzzled his nose with yours.

"its not the same as being alone with you." he whined again, and you let out a chuckle as your hands came up to the back of his hair.

"you bought me on a boys trip, baby. what did you expect?"

he chuckles now, giving you another kiss before breaking contact, your hands sliding down his shoulders before dropping down to your sides.

"what you wanna do? we usually grab pizza and watch a movie on the first night."

you smile as you make your way to the bathroom, flicking on the light and looking over yourself in the mirror.

"that sounds good. i might go for a walk, stretch my leg. if thats okay?" you say as chris follows you in, wrapping his arms around your waist and looking at you through the reflection in the mirror.

"of course. let me tell the boys and we'll all go."

"i can go alone, it's okay!"

he spins you around now, pressing you against the sink.

"alone? when its almost dark? in a place you've never been. not a fucking chance, babe. let me tell the boys."

he doesn't let you say another word before he's gone, his voice echoing through the log cabin as you hear him call out the his brothers and nate. you don’t hear much else as you let out a soft chuckle, before slowing following him out the room.

your eyes meet nicks immediately.

“i was just coming to get you!” he says.

“you good?” you ask. nick smiles.

“yes. do you wanna go for a walk now?”

you sigh. “you boys really don’t have to come, i just feel stiff.”

nick rolls his eyes, walking behind you and grabbing your shoulders, pushing you forward slightly until you enter the kitchen, eyes meeting with nate and matt who give you a smile.

“we can scout out the lake, ready for fishing tomorrow” nate says to everyone in the group, and nick claps his hands on your shoulder.

“and me and you can sit far away in peace” nick says, and you turn to give him a laugh. that small peace of anxiety leaving you at their words. you hated to feel like you were intruding but it was so clear these boys appreciated and loved you as much as you did them.

an hour later, the sun is setting in the most beautiful space you’d ever seen. the lake was beautiful and the sun bounced off the water, all whilst you stood back and watched as the 4 boys in front of you laughed and joked away. you’d walked with them all equally on the way here, but standing back now you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them all. when nate and matt picked up rocks to skip across the water, you knew you’d be staying her for a while, so you found a piece of grass to perch yourself down on, pulling your phone out to take a photo of the scene in front of you. the soft orange glow, the water, the 4 best friends. it was so peaceful. but after a minute or so chris turned around, and the minute his eyes lay on yours he walked straight over.

“you okay, baby?” he asked, reaching you and holding out his hand. you took it, allowing him to help you stand up before he pulled you into his side. you smiled, wrapping your arm around his back and your other arm around his waist.

“i’m good. so good. this is beautiful.” you say, looking out at the sky once again.

chris doesn’t say anything, and you appreciate the comfortable silence between you both before matt turns around, ushering you over.

“come on, y/n.” he says, moving his hand in motion to get you to join him. you look up at chris, and he gives you a smile before pushing you forward slightly to go join his brother.

you spend the next half an hour skipping rocks, all four boys making light joke with you about being rubbish whilst also helping you out, before you take the walk back. you find yourself sandwich between nate and matt, as chris and nick walk behind, and by the time you reach your cabin, your cheeks hurt from laughing.

later that evening, after takeout pizza, you find yourself falling asleep in chris arms in the small armchair designed only for one. you’re squished in by his side, his arms around you as you lay your head on his shoulder. tiredness over comes you like a soft blanket, and before the 4 boys have even decided on a movie, you’re asleep.

you just catch the moment chris brings his lips to your ear though, and whispers a soft i love you.

[mari-the-bimbo]

Gojo’s Satoru’s obsession

A/N: Some yummy content for our glorious king 🙏👑

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, age gap implied

Gojo Satoru was obsessed with you from the moment he laid his icy blue eyes on you. He knew he needed you, in a way he couldn’t explain, you were made for him, he could feel it. Fantasies of spoiling you, kissing you and touching you forever played on his mind.

So once you finally gave the business tycoon a chance, he wasted no time making his admiration known. You haven’t been dating for long but you sure knew how he felt about you through his touchy ways.

“So how was college today princess?” He says casually, as if his tall 6’3 figure isn’t towering over you, making you hyper aware of the size difference.

You both sat on his leather sofa in his large monochromatic living room. A dim light from the crystal lamp that glowed amber.

“Oh it was okay” you manage to say with a smile. His long pale finger twirling strands of your hair, “oh yeah?” He purrs with a devious smile, as he watches your poor attempt to keep your composure, he knew his sweet girl wouldn’t last long though. Not when you’re already blushing and squirming in your seat.

He leans in closer and takes off his sunglasses as if to create more tension, before asking “you didn’t miss me too much did you?”

Trick question, he was setting you up, either answer leads to a dangerous territory.

However you couldn’t deny his scheming flirty ways and the authority he had over you didn’t turn you on. You tear your gaze away from his entrancing eyes and fiddle with his shirt, “um well..”

“Y/n~” he sings your name out when you don’t answer.

His bulge now pressing against you, you gasp from the sudden contact but that doesn’t stop him from grinding against your clothed pussy painfully slow. You feel the hardness cause friction between your sensitive area until you had a wet patch exposing your desire. You hear a stifled laugh from Gojo as he reaches down to play with the wet material. Pervert.

Suddenly you find yourself dry humping him too, chasing that delicious feeling it gave you. He smiles widely at your contorted face, eyes closed, gosh you’re so cute when he has you like this.

“Oh Gojo…” you sigh

“Say it”

“I missed you too much!” You gasp as your hands weakly attempt to pull his grey sweatpants down.

“Hey hey slow down princess, I’ll take them off for you okay? You know I’d never deny you anything right?” He says, with a soft chuckle. You nod your head in agreement.

And so as you hold eye contact with his intense gaze on you, his hands travel down, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers at once, exposing his girthy cock, pre cum glistening at his pink tip.

He gives it a few pumps with his own hand, and all you could do is stare in awe before he placed his cock into your own trembling hand, much to your surprise.

“Your turn” he says with a flirty wink, and you blink a few times, before getting to work. You knew the drill, if you wanted him inside you, you need to work for it.

Your much smaller hands pumped his now wet cock, smearing more wetness along the length, the cold feeling of the diamond bracelet he bought you touches his skin, causing him to shiver in pleasure. His hands were still entangled in your head as he let out a strangled moan. “Oh you’re so good to me y/n, such a good girl for me” he whispered.

“You deserve it don’t you?” He asks. And you know what he’s referring to. “Yeah”

“Take it off then”

Upon command, you waste no time leaving his length to undress yourself, taking off your panties to welcome him. He has a content smile as he watches you adoringly, hands behind his head.

Once you’re finally undressed, Gojo grabs you by the hips and pulls you to him to line his tip up with your folds.

Now it was a harmonious team effort of moans between you and Gojo, both immediately lost in pleasure as he pushes his length into you after promising to only ‘start with the tip’’ liar, he knew he didn’t have such self control when it came to you.

The power of his thrusts rocks your hips back and forth. At some point your screams of his name overtakes his loud moans from when you grab the white strands of his hair in desperation. Your back arches in pleasure but Gojo is quick to press you back down with just one hand.

“Can’t miss me when I’m buried inside you yeah?” He rasps as his pace quickens and you knew you were close.

You’re unable to respond as you become a whimpering mess, responding with nothing but another scream as your vision blurs. He moans as he feels his own high too, “yes yes yes that’s it, yes!” pressing himself closer to you into a mating press as you both cum, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he releases his hot white cream into you with a lewd moan.

Your chest heaves from the aftermath. But your strong, older boyfriend holds you in his warm embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, letting him press flat against you as you both catch your breath.

Once you finally escape the euphoria, you look up from Gojo’s chest to see him already staring at you with a lovesick smile. How could someone hold so much love for you after only knowing you for a while?

“Such a sweet girl” he praises as he strokes your cheek with his thumb, jokingly booping your nose just after to make you laugh.

“Forget college tomorrow, spend some time with me instead okay?“ he says pressing a kiss to your cheek as you scoff knowing damn well you won’t be able to walk tomorrow anyways.

[bloatedandalone04]

Like Fine Wine

➪the one where you can’t resist hayden’s look for his role in ahsoka.

Warnings: hubby hayden bc i want to marry this man so badly, current age (or 41 year old) hayden, smut, fluff, pet names, unprotected sex, handjob (brief), hair pulling, soft smut, you guys just straight up loving on each other, reader is feral for him, spoilers for ahsoka if you haven’t seen the last 2 episodes, takes place during the filming of ahsoka (back in may 2022), this is just self-indulgent tbh

Word Count: 2.5k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

When you finally made your way back to the hotel room you and Hayden were staying at during the filming of Ahsoka, the last thing you were expecting to see was your husband propped up against the headboard, shirtless with grey sweats covering his lower half, and the script for tomorrow in his hands. 

He looked absolutely divine, and you bit back a moan at the mere sight of him, the wine bottle you had bought from the store across the street nearly slipping from your grasp.

When he heard the door open but didn’t hear your voice right after, Hayden looked up to see you standing in the doorway, an unreadable expression on your face as you stared at him. “Hey, baby,” he murmured in a greeting, flipping the script back to the first page as you closed the door without breaking eye contact. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go over this scene with me, but you seem…preoccupied. What’s on your mind?”

You set the bottle down on the table by the door, shrugging off your jacket as you stepped towards him. “I was just thinking,” you trailed off, biting your lip as your eyes stalked his body like he was prey. 

Hayden sat up against the headboard, a teasing glint in his eye. “About what?”

Kneeling on the bed, you kick off your shoes before crawling over to him and straddling his lap. “About what I could’ve possibly done to deserve such a hot husband,” you answer, taking the package of papers from him and dropping them on the rug beside the bed. 

His hands instinctively grab your waist, his own eyes raking up and down your face. “Eighteen years together and you’re only asking that now?” He teased, his fingers lifting your shirt slightly so he could feel your skin on his. 

“Oh, no, I’ve been asking myself that since the day you messed up your practice run with Ewan and had to restart it from the very beginning,” you say back, watching as a knowing smile graced his lips.

“That was only because you walked on set looking like something right off of the red carpet. Kinda like how you look right now,” he not so subtly gazed down at your body, his blue eyes beginning to darken the longer he had you on top of him.

You roll your eyes but blush at his forward words, resting your hands on his shoulders. Eighteen years together and fifteen since you’ve been married, and he still was able to effortlessly make you feel like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. 

Your engagement ring and wedding band reflected off the single lamp he turned on, unknowingly setting the mood for when you got back. It was on the bedside table next to his phone, which had been turned completely off since he was away from set and planned to spend the rest of his night with you. 

“Aren’t you a charmer?” You mumbled, feeling the cool metal of his own wedding band, that was identical to yours, pressed against the heated skin of your hip. “Seriously, do you even realize how good you look right now?” 

His hair was still somewhat styled in his clone wars look for the flashback scene, and the way it curled in certain spots had your whole body aching for him. If he hadn’t taken off the makeup for the scar already, you probably would’ve been wrapped around him by now. “I don’t know,” he answered, kissing you back when you placed your mouth against his. “I’m not sure I can believe it after you told me that about ten times on set earlier today.”

You and he had actually met during the filming of Star Wars Episode II, but didn’t start dating until Episode III had been fully completed. You went to the premiere together and that was your public debut as a couple, and you still remembered how loudly the fans cheered when he kissed you right there on the carpet.

You, too, would be in a few flashbacks towards the end of the series, in the form of your Force Ghost. Your character was killed in the last half of Episode III by Anakin himself, and you still remembered filming that scene like it was yesterday. 

The tears you shed that day were one hundred percent real, as you were actually saying goodbye to the character that introduced you to your future husband. At that point you and Hayden had gone on several low-key dates, but didn’t become official until a couple of months later. His acting was also more real than not in that scene as he had to pretend to kill you in a somewhat brutal way.

To revisit your character for the first time in over a decade was one of the best opportunities you had ever gotten, and you could only assume that this was how Hayden felt when he was asked to return as Anakin in Obi-Wan. While your scenes wouldn’t be filmed for a few more weeks, Hayden still insisted you stay with him until the filming was wrapped up completely. 

“I’m not apologizing for hyping up my husband,” you say against his lips. “I’m being so serious, Hayden, you look good.”

He grins up at you, pulling your body closer until your chest pressed right up against his, the subtle rock of your hips making you suppress a moan. “Well, thank you, sweet girl,” he nudges your nose with his. “I can always count on you to make me feel good about myself.”

“You so can,” you agree, trailing your hands down his toned chest, smirking at the way his stomach muscle flexed at your light touch. “You’re so attractive, I don’t think you even realize it.”

Hayden hummed, slowly dragging his hands up your body and taking your shirt along the way. “I could say the same thing about you,” he said before asking, “You’re awfully flirty tonight, what’s got you all worked up?”

“You,” came your simple reply, your fingers pulling at the loose string of his sweats. You lean down to place a chaste kiss to his lips, one that leaves him wanting more as you descend your mouth down to his shoulder, where you place a few open mouthed kisses to his skin. “You, being so unbelievably sexy when you’re back in your element on set. The way you looked when you were practicing earlier? The way you look now? You don’t know the things you do to me, Hayden.”

“I beg to differ,” he rasps out when you place another kiss to the base of his throat, his hands quickly fumbling to take off your shirt. It drops to the floor beside the script and you lift your head so you were looking right at him, your body level with his as you slowly rocked your hips against his. “Y/n.”

You give him a teasing grin, sliding your hands down his sides before they land on the front of his sweats. “I know,”you murmur and kiss him slowly, slipping your hand past the waistline and palming him. You hold back a smirk when you find him already hard for you, his body’s way of responding to yours every time you come onto him. “I just want to make you feel as good as you look.”

Hayden huffed out a breathy moan as you pulled him free from the sweatpants. “I want to make you feel good, too, baby,” he managed to say as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking him. 

You hum, “I already feel good from just looking at you,” 

A ghost of a moan escaped your lips when leaned forward to kiss your exposed shoulder in an attempt to quiet his own sounds. 

Though this was a nice hotel, he still didn’t want to risk the possibility of the walls being thin enough for him to receive noise complaints, though the thought had him growing harder in your hand. 

“You don’t know how much you turn me on,” you nearly whisper, the pad of your thumb brushing over his tip and making him groan quietly against your skin.

“After twenty years of knowing you, I think I know exactly how much I turn you on,” he mumbled, bucking his hips up so you stroked him a bit harder. “It’s the same way with you, baby. You make me feel so good all the time.”

You whimper quietly when his hand slips inside the front of your leggings, biting down harshly on your bottom lip when he finds your clothed clit with no trouble at all. Being intimate with the same person for half your life came with that perk. “I want you so bad,”

Hayden lifted his head back up to connect your lips in a kiss, murmuring, “You have me. Since that first day I saw you, I’ve been all yours,” when he pulls away to lift your hips in order to rid you of your leggings and the lace that covered your core. “I love you, Y/n Christensen.”

You moaned at that, moving back to straddle his hips again. Gripping the sides of his neck, you use the tips of your thumbs to tilt his head up in order to be able to give him a deep kiss. “I love you,” you whined as he guided your heat over him a few times, prepping both himself and you with your slickness. “My hot, sexy husband.”

And then you were lifting your hips and sliding onto him until he was buried deep within you. Your hips met his as moans escaped both of you, with Hayden leaning back against the pillows and headboard to let you take full control. 

While he always wanted you in this way, seeing him as Anakin again clearly did something to you, and he was more than okay with letting you take the lead like you needed to. 

You close your eyes and grip his shoulders, moaning softly when you lift yourself up before dropping back down again. “I’m never getting over this,” you confess, though it wasn’t new news. Even though you had been together for nearly two decades, you still hadn’t grown tired of each other, further proving the fact that you were meant to be together. “Fuck.”

Hayden groaned under his breath, his hands gripping your waist as you began to slowly ride him. “Just like that, sweet girl,” he praised softly, feeling the way you clenched around him at his words. “We fit so well together, don’t we? Make each other feel so good.”

You moan a bit louder, nodding quickly as your hands move to tangle in his  hair. The fact that it was you who got to see him like this, and it was you who got to mess up his Anakin-styled hair had you going a bit feral.

“So good,” you agree, dropping yourself down on him with a bit more force, really setting a pace that would ensure you both wouldn’t last too long. He is forty one and you were pushing thirty nine, you couldn’t really expect to be as durable in the bedroom after a long day of filming. 

Still, when he hadn’t spent a whole day on set, Hayden could go for longer, simply because he aged unbelievably well and kept his body in great shape. 

He also wasn’t expecting you to want to jump his bones as soon as you got back from your wine run after he changed into more comfortable clothing, planning on going over a few of his scenes with you before bed. 

That still didn’t stop him from letting you completely drain any and all energy he had left from the day as you grind your hips against his. Small, needy whines left your pretty lips as you moved further down on him, driving him even deeper into your willing and wanting walls. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he couldn’t help but say, making your pace falter slightly as you flushed at his words. “My girl. The prettiest woman in the world.” He complimented as his hands slid up your back and expertly unclasped your bra. 

He pulled it from your body and replaced it with his hands, his thumbs and index fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. You whimper at the feeling of his smooth fingers against your sensitive buds, tugging harshly at his strands. “Hayden,” you murmur, guiding him into you quicker with swift grinds of your hips. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah, baby,” he said under his breath, trailing one hand down to circle your throbbing clit with his thumb. His other hand moved to tightly grip your hip again as you picked up the pace, beginning to feel that tight sensation forming in your abdomen. “You feel so good. So good for me, baby, the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut as you pulse around him, your thighs burning with exertion and forcing you to stop for a brief second before Hayden grabs your other hip and begins thrusting up into you. “Yes,” you gasp out, tangling your hands tighter in his hair as he lifts himself up from against the pillows to really allow him to drive himself impossibly deeper inside you. “Oh, fuck, yes, don’t stop, Hayden, please.”

How could he deny you your wish? In all honesty, he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to stop, anyway, as you were clenching so tightly around him and sucking him in as deep as he could go, he almost blacked out for a second from how blinding the feeling was. 

“Come for me, sweet girl,” he requested quietly in your ear, his deep and raspy voice making you clench tighter around him as your walls pulsed in time with his quick thrusts. “I want you to, want to feel it.”

Your mouth opened in a faint cry and your stomach swelled as you wrapped your arms tightly around him. As your whole body tensed up in his arms, Hayden felt your walls spasm slightly before he also felt the flood of your release coat him. It gave him the perfect amount of friction for him to fall not too far behind. 

His jaw locked slightly, his hands wrapping around your middle and pulling you closer to him as he, too, came. Deep within you, he pushed his seed further with a few extra thrusts before he was forced to stop due to the sensitivity of it all. 

With his last remaining energy, he lifted you up and set you down on the bed next to him. He hovered over you a second later, wrapping your legs around his waist as he nuzzled his head in between the space of your neck and shoulder. “I love you so much,” he whispered in between peppered kisses to your sweaty skin. “Thank you for always making me feel like the most important person, everyday.”

You ran your fingers through his damp and messy hair, playing with the curls as a smile formed on your lips. “You are the most important person,” you reminded him, kissing him quickly before wrapping your arms around him and pulling him further down onto you. “And I love you, too.”

[scarnatlover]

Could you write a Natasha x reader fic where reader gets back from a mission and is really sore so Nat gives reader a massage and reader lets out a little moan then things get heated?

(If not it’s fine)

(Also do you write G!P? If you do can this be a g!p story?)

A little bird told me...

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x G!P Reader (romantic)

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. sexual themes, smut, Reader has a cock, sensual massage, mommy kink, mention of punishment, light choking, cowgirl, missionary, lingerie, nipple piercing, handjob, blowjob but not really, alcoholic parent (mention), murder/death (mention) blood (mention), talking about trauma.

A/N: I'm sorry if anything is spelled incorrectly, but English is not my first language. I apologize in advance for my grammar and spelling. If you have any request, I will try and write them.

It was late when the Quinjet finally landed. The mission had gone very well. You, Clint, and Sam had retrieved the information Fury had requested, but not without struggles. You had promised Nat that you would return to her without a scratch, when in reality you were not entirely without injuries. A few cuts here and there, but still nothing to worry about; at least in your opinion.

Nat was waiting for you at the bottom of the ramp, arms crossed and a big smile plastered on her face. You slowly approached her, then put your bag on the ground to hug her, resting your head on her shoulder as one of her hands scratched the back of your neck and the other caressed your back.

"So? How did it go?" she asked, kissing your head before cupping your face in her hands and giving you a kiss that probably lasted longer than it should have. "Any injuries I should know about?" You just shook your head, not wanting to admit that you were actually hurt. But Nat could see right through your lies. "Hey, hey, what did we say about lying? We don't lie to each other, and I know for a fact that this cut wasn't there when we saw each other this morning," she said, referring to the cut on your eyebrow. She then slid her hand from your face to your hand, taking it in hers, and walked with you to your room.

Once inside, she helped you take off your shirt, tended to your wounds, scolded you for not being careful enough, and then left you in the bathroom alone to shower.

"Babe?" you heard her call from the other side of the door as you washed your hair. "Do you want me to give you a massage? I know how relaxing they are, especially after a mission," she continued. You said yes of course, without even hesitating. You've always loved the feeling of her hands on you, even before you started dating. From the way she'd comfort you by placing a hand on your back when a mission wasn't going well, to the way she'd accidentally caress your cock when you were sitting next to each other.

Once out of the shower, you dried yourself, body and hair, then wrapped a towel around yourself and left the bathroom, only to see the lights in the room off, except for your table lamp, which was the only source of light in the room, and Nat sitting on the bed dressed only in her underwear and at that sight you felt your cock harden.

You went to your underwear drawer so you could cover yourself, but Nat stopped you before you could. Turning to look her in the eyes, you noticed that she had already pulled out some boxers for you. Her favorites, to be precise. That black pair of Calvin Kleins she bought you a few months ago. The same pair that you know she completely loses her mind over.

"Put them on and then lie on your stomach. I can see how tense your back is," she said, occasionally biting her lower lip, her gaze never leaving your body, focusing mainly on your eyes, your abs, and the outline of your cock, which was slowly getting harder.

Without hesitation, you did what she said, putting on your underwear and then lying on your stomach. You heard her get out of bed and go to the bathroom, then return and set down a bottle of massage oil. 

"It's your favorite. Now, relax and let me do all the work." 

Her hands hovered over your skin, just close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from her palms. She started at your shoulders, her touch gentle, teasing. She pressed her thumbs into the tense muscles at the base of your neck, working slowly in firm, circular motions. You sighed softly, your body melting beneath her touch With each stroke, you could feel yourself getting harder, she let her hands glide lower, tracing the curve of your spine. Her fingers spread, following the natural lines of your body, applying just enough pressure to unravel the knots of tension wound tight beneath your skin. You arched subtly, groaning, responding instinctively to the pleasure coursing through you as her hands worked magic, easing away the day's stresses.

She paused, dipping her hands back into the bowl of warm oil, letting it drip languidly over your back. It cascaded in slow, lazy streams, pooling at the base of your spine. She spreads it evenly with her palms, kneading your flesh with a mix of tenderness and control, the friction building a steady, delicious heat. As her hands ventured lower, her thumbs pressed into the small of your back, eliciting a soft gasp and a light hump against the pillow under you. She moved deliberately, savoring every inch of you, reading the subtle shifts of your body like a map. She could feel you breathing slow, your muscles loosening under her touch. Each stroke was an invitation, a promise, lingering just at the edge of something deeper.

Her touch grew bolder, exploring the curve of your body, tracing patterns that left your breath hitting. You turned your head to the side, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure, surrendering completely to the rhythm of her hands. She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear as her fingers danced along your skin, every touch deliberate, every movement a silent conversation. And just then, from the immense pleasure you were feeling and from the contact between her pussy and your hips, making you feel how excited she was too, you let out a moan.

“Did you just-? God, turn over, on your back. Now,” and you did just that. She got off the bed, standing in front of you with her arms crossed and a smug smirk on her face, giving you the chance to turn around. Once on your back, she could clearly see your erection and the stain of pre-cum. “Oh baby, look at it. You got all turned on, just because Mommy was giving you a massage, hm.”

She slowly moved closer to you, swaying her hips, and sat on your lap, making you moan as her soaked panties touched your erection. She started grinding back and forth, moaning, while you could only whimper, throwing your head back. She gripped your jaw, looking into your eyes.

“A little birdie told me,” she began, her hips never stopping to move, “that today isn’t the first time you’ve lied to me this week,” she continued, increasing her speed. She moved her hand from your jaw to wrap around your neck, choking you and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “You know how much Mommy hates lies. Normally this would mean you'd be getting punished, but not tonight. But I'll take my time with you,” she concluded, kissing you hard.

At this point, you couldn't even think clearly. Her hand on your throat, applying gentle pressure, her violent kisses, her hips that kept rocking above you didn't allow it. For this, you just nodded without even really understanding her statement. And suddenly, everything stopped. She got up, leaving you alone on the bed, and stood in front of you. You sat on the bed and wrapped your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her sternum.

“I missed you so much, bunny,” she whispered, kissing your forehead and running her hand through your hair repeatedly. She definitely missed you judging by the lack of underwear in the drawer, snack wrappers in the bin, and sweatshirts thrown around the room.

You smiled sweetly at her and she immediately smiled back and kissed you softly. She sat down on you, but not before pulling down your underwear, presenting your hard cock, and taking off her panties in turn, which you only now realized were your favorite and that they matched the bra she was wearing, the pink color almost the same as her pale skin given the dim light in the room.

She grabbed your cock, raised herself slightly, and slowly slid your cock inside her. She sat on you, still, enjoying the pleasurable sensation of being full. She took your hands that were on her hips and slowly placed them on her breasts. “I have a surprise for you,” she said, moving her hands behind her back and quickly unhooking her bra. She threw it somewhere in the room, but you didn’t notice because what you were focused on were the jewels attached to her nipples. “Do you like them, bunny? You know, they’re much more sensitive now,” she commented, bringing your hands to her globes again. You started to gently massage her boobs, her mouth making the shape of an O. But when you finally teased and pinched her nipples, she couldn’t help but moan loudly.

She finally started to move back and forth on you. You started thrusting, to help her reach climax before you. Usually in these moments she's the one trying to make you come first, but tonight you decided to let her take precedence. Moving a hand from one of her breasts to use as support, you quickly changed positions, with you now on top of her.

You increased your thrusts, moving your other hand to her clit and making tight circles on it, occasionally applying a little pressure. She cried out in pleasure, her movements slowly stopping just like your thrusts, but continuing long enough to allow her to prolong her orgasm as much as possible. She only stopped completely when she started to feel overstimulated.

She let you slide out of her, but still remained sitting on your lap. “You didn’t come?” she asked, but it was less of a question and more of a statement. You shook your head and she sighed, a little disappointed that you didn’t finish inside her. She stood up and slowly walked over to your nightstand, where you kept the various bottles of lube. She grabbed one and walked back to you. She fell to her knees in front of you and squirted some onto her hand. You watched her every action, every move with apprehension.

She finally closed her hand around your length, making you throw your head back in pleasure. Natasha started moving her hand up and down your shaft, slowly at first to get you fully hard, then gradually faster. “Mommy is making you feel good, mhm?” to which you quickly nodded, letting out moans and groans. “Are you close? Do you want to come for Mommy? Want to be a good little bunny for me?” she asked in vain, because she already knew the answer.

“Please Mommy” you started thrusting too, trying to find the right speed to make you come faster.

She squeezed her hand a little tighter while with the other she gently massaged your balls. Seeing you so close to her peak, she engulfed the tip of your cock, tracing the outside with her tongue, and she started sucking. Feeling the sensation of her lips and her tongue on your sensitive tip finally made you cum in her mouth.

She swallowed it all, but when she looked at your face instead of a happy look, she saw only tears. She took action immediately. She laid you down on the bed and ran to the bathroom and started filling the bathtub. Once she was done she came back to the room, this time seeing you face down. She sat down next to you and placed her hand on your back, offering you silent comfort. She gently took your face in her hands, making your eyes meet.

“I have a hot bath ready. Do you want to come with me?” she whispered, giving you a big smile.

You followed her without hesitation, wanting only to be with her in that moment. She went in first, making sure your back was against her chest, and left soft kisses wherever she could reach. Despite her attempt at silent comfort, your tears wouldn’t stop falling. “Do you want to talk about it?” Nat asked, noticing the river of tears.

“I saw something while I was on a mission” you whispered, your voice cracking with almost every word. Nat continued to kiss you, waiting for you to tell her what set you off. “It was like I was in that house and I was reliving that night all over again.” Nat stopped suddenly.

During your relationship, surprisingly, you were the one who had the hardest time opening up. You grew up in a toxic environment and she knew it. “Nothing compared to what you went through,” you told her every time. But Natasha always responded, comforting and reassuring you, saying that her traumas were just as important as yours and that they shouldn’t be compared. Of course, you told her, briefly and without much detail, what you went through.

How you grew up in a toxic environment. Your father was a workaholic, who would get irritable whenever he wasn’t at work or if he didn’t have full control over things. Your mother was an alcoholic, who could only go a short time without drinking alcohol. They never hit you or hurt you physically, but the scars remained. You saw things a child should never see.

One night things got particularly bad. You had just come home from spending the day at a friend’s house. As you entered the house, you noticed that the lights were off, except for the kitchen ones. You walked towards the light, thinking that one of your parents had accidentally left it on before going to bed, but instead, when you entered, all you saw was your father’s inert body on the floor, a pool of blood all around him, and your mother was nowhere to be seen. After that, your memories are all hazy, as if your mind had shut down. You only remember Nick Fury sitting in front of you while you're at the police station.

Natasha placed her hands on your shoulders, massaging them and tightening her grip, as if to reassure her. "I know it was hard. But you're strong. Stronger than you think." You opened your eyes and looked at Natasha, a look of gratitude in your eyes. "Thank you, Nat. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Natasha smiled at you, stroking a lock of your damp hair. "We're a team, remember? Always and no matter what." The two of you were silent for a moment, listening only to the sound of the running water.

You rested your head on Natasha's shoulder, feeling protected and safe. Tears slid down your face, but this time they weren't tears of pain, but of relief. Natasha gently wiped your cheeks with her thumb. "It's okay, my love. I'm here."

[lale-txt]

❉ in a long-distance relationship ↳ w/ Nanami & Naoya (separate)

a/n: getting into my clown car because originally i was planning to write this for four characters in total, then i blinked and suddenly i had written over 2k words in headcanons and drabbles and decided to call it a day. i personally want to thank Nanami and Naoya for representing the both flawless and horrendous ends of the spectrum regarding my taste in fictional men ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

contains: headcanons are sfw & gn!reader, drabbles are ns.fw & afab!reader. i'll put individual warnings before each drabble later in the text.

word count: 2.3k

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

the driest texter known to man

it’s not like Nanami won’t think of you and text you throughout the day, it’s more that his texts read as if they’re coming from your tax consultant rather than from the love of your life

“Arrived at the accommodation. Room is very clean. About to head out for work, will call you later tonight. Love you, K. PS: Heard Lawson has cabbage on sale this week.”

he’s never beating the old man allegations

it’s an obstacle that yours and his work often requires you both to travel and spend time apart, but to Nanami, once committed, long distance was never a reason for things not to work out between you

he keeps his promises and calls when he said he would, he sends you flowers when he can’t bring them back home in person and he orders you food when you’re having a rough day, staying on the phone with you while you eat and letting you vent if you need to 

when he misses you (which he always does), he lets you know. no matter how far apart, Nanami would never make you doubt if you’re on his mind and in his heart 

often he’d send you photos of his lunch or local specialities, sometimes photos from the local pigeons too when they’d pick up the crumbs of his sandwich at his feet

“Those two seem inseparable. Made me think of us. Miss your voice, will call you tonight. What are you having for lunch? Careful when you cut the cabbage.”

at night, after another draining day of fighting curses, the only thing keeping Nanami going is the prospect of hearing your voice over the speaker

he will close his eyes and imagine you snuggled up in bed while talking to him, waiting for him to come home, and oh, how badly he wants to be by your side and never let you go

cw: afab!reader (no pronouns used, 'cunt' and 'pussy' used to describe genitalia), phone sex, panty sniffing, masturbation (with said panties), dirty talk, breeding kink (no mention of pregnancy or babies), mention of: brat taming, mirror sex and hair pulling

“Sorry, love. Were you asleep already?”

Nanami’s voice is quiet, almost like an apology for calling you this late. He knows you’re always staying up and fighting your sleepiness, despite him telling you not to wait for him—he’s grateful you do though, because hearing your voice is the one thing that will get him through each day, no matter how long it drags on.

“Mhm, not quite yet,” you mumble into your phone and smile at the sound of his voice. “‘m all cozy in bed though, it still smells like you. Only missing your warmth.”

Nanami laughs quietly at the other end of the line. He has no problems imagining you right now, having the big bed you bought together all for yourself but still curling up on his side of the mattress, where his scent still lingers. He hums softly.

“That was quite the surprise I found in my pocket this morning.”

You hear some rustling sounds and a pair of pants getting unzipped, and the grin on your face widens. Putting your phone on speaker, you set it down on the pillow next to you and roll over on your back, feeling more awake now.

“Well? Did you like it?”, you coo.

“Loved it.”

The panties you slipped into Nanami’s jacket before he left are now dangling from his finger in the dim light of the bedside lamp. He picked them out for you a while ago and now you were simply returning the favor, knowing how lonely it can get on a solo mission. He closes his big fist around them and brings them to his face, inhaling your musk and making him groan quietly. His cock aches in his boxers, precum staining them slightly, but he doesn’t touch himself yet.

“God, I miss you,” he mutters after catching another whiff of your worn panties. “Want to taste you so badly, love. When I get home, I’ll have you sit on my face till your legs give out.”

You chuckle at the prospect of it. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Did you touch yourself with my panties?”, you ask in a sultry voice and you can hear Nanami growl a little at the other end of the line.

“I’m doing it right now,” he replies in a husky voice, having his bottoms hastily pulled down his thighs and now fisting his cock with your panties wrapped around it. The fabric feels soft and expensive, and the thought of how they clung to your cunt when you soaked through them has his mind spinning circles.

“Good. I want to hear you cum,” you whisper, closing your eyes for a better imagination. “Tell me what you want to do with me when you’re back home.”

Nanami pumps his fat cock with one hand, the other holding his phone to his ear. He’s sprawled out in an armchair, head in the back of his neck, his eyes shut as well. His breath comes out raggedly.

“Gonna fill your pretty little cunt to the brim,” he mumbles. “Tongue, fingers, cock. Everything. Whatever you beg for, I’ll give it to you. Gonna pump you so full of my cum, you’ll have it ruin your panties for days, but you’d like that, don’t you?”

“Fuck,” you mewl at the other end of the line, kicking back the sheets and spreading your legs to touch yourself to his words. Your fingers reached nowhere as deep as Nanami's, but it was better than nothing.

“Gonna bend you over and fuck you on every flat surface in our house,” he rasps. “In front of the big mirror too, so you can see the faces you make when you cum on my cock. Wanna feel how tight you get when you’re milking me. As if you’re trying to remember the shape of my cock forever. Made for me, only me. And if you’re gonna be a brat, which I know you will, I’ll stuff your mouth with your panties and pull your hair till I fucked some obedience into you.”

Nanami groans; he is so close. Damn, if only you were here for him to bury himself in the warmth of your cunt. Your whimpering at the other end of the line and your panties wrapped around his cock as he pumps himself are enough to send him tumbling over the edge, a supernova of pent up lust and frustration unleashing within him. The silken fabric soaks up all of his cum, sticky and hot against his skin. He made a mess, but cleaning up was for later.

“You good, love?”, he asks in a raspy voice and can’t help but smile at the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Came so hard I saw stars a little,” you confess over the speaker and snicker. You’ll definitely have to change the sheets before Nanami gets home. As if you two wouldn’t ruin them anyway.

“Good, good,” he laughs. “Now sleep, dear, I kept you up for too long. I’ll be home tomorrow night, okay? Can’t wait to kiss you.”

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀

Naoya hates being apart from you and he doesn’t understand why you take on missions that require you to leave the Zen’in estate aka him

in his eyes, as his spouse there’s no need for you to work at all, you should just stay at home with him or accompany him on his business trips 

he can and he will yap about this while you pack your bags, while he drives you to the train station (he insists to escort you there himself), while carrying your luggage and even between goodbye kisses. seriously, this man never learned how to shut up in his entire life

the night prior, Naoya had made sure to leave plenty of hickeys all over your body, as a reminder who you belong to 

he’s clearly bored out of his mind without you around, your phone blowing up with text and voice messages from him, demanding your unrestricted attention and getting pouty when you don’t immediately reply to him

it’s not like Naoya is jealous or worried that you’d see someone else behind his back–his ego is too big to consider this even a possibility

he’s simply the undefeated champion in the pain in the ass competition 

he’ll act nonchalant when you call him once you’re back at your hotel, trying to sound as if he wasn’t pacing restlessly around all day until his phone finally lit up with your name on display

asking you about your day comes second, first you’ll have to listen to him whining how much it sucks without you around and that this’ll be the last time that he’s allowing you as your husband to go on a solo mission (he’s ignoring your unrestrained laughter about it), and that you’ll have to think of something to make it up to him on your way home which will be in 3 days, 11 hours and 27 minutes (he’s counting)

cw: afab!reader (no pronouns used, 'cunt' and 'pussy' used to describe genitalia), video call sex, dirty talk, masturbation, praise kink, mention of spitting, sweet talking Naoya into submission, he has nipple piercings in this one, Naoya being his own warning

“Seriously? You couldn’t wait three seconds to at least show me your face before flipping the camera to your dick?”

You lie on your stomach in a hotel bed that’s way too big for you alone, fresh out of the shower, glancing down at your phone in your hand. After a long day of fighting an extremely nasty curse, you crave nothing more than rubbing one out to the voice of your husband and passing out immediately afterwards. Your hips grind lazily into a pillow between your legs, feeling that familiar throb, while Naoya on the other end strokes himself on display as slowly, his thumb drawing circles over his leaking tip. His moans are slightly muffled over the speaker.

“Can’t help it, babe, I’ve been like this all day, aching for ya. Had my cock throbbing even at family dinner. Been thinking about nothing other than stuffing all of yer greedy holes. Just look–”

The movements of the video get a bit shaky when he fists his cock, pumping himself at a leisurely pace. You’ve memorized every vein of his cock, feeling your mouth water a little at the sight of it. While Naoya wasn’t a size king, he had the girth and you vividly remember how he knocked the air out of your lungs when he pounded you into the mattress for the very first time. You roll your hips some more, chasing for the right friction to get you off, the camera still aimed at your face. 

“Then gimme a show at least,” you whine and put on a small pout which you know Naoya can never resist. If there’s anything Naoya loves, then it’s attention and praise, and he is way too easy to bait into whatever could offer him that.

“Oh, ‘m gonna give yer a show, baby. Gonna make ya regret not being here with me. I’d have ya drooling all over my cock if yer were here with me now,” he rattles. “Would spit in yer mouth, that’s how ya like it, dontcha?” 

The display turns dark and blurry for a moment, and you can practically feel the excitement from the other end of the line when Naoya props his phone up against something to have his hands free. He is so obedient at times, yet he would hate to hear that. For the first time today you get a glimpse of his face now, the pink of his tongue poking out slightly between his lips, his hakama pants hanging unfastened from his hips, his cock resting heavy on his thigh when he leans back.

“The shirt, too,” you demand. “Take it off.”

“Nah, too many buttons,” Naoya huffs and grips his cock again, making sure to angle it just right at the camera. Oh, how he wished you were on your knees before him right now. All the ways he’d mess you up. 

“Then pull it up at least. C’mon, put it in your mouth like I do it for you sometimes,” you coax him in your sweetest, sultriest voice. “I know you can be a good boy for me.”

Naoya’s hips yerk up slightly at the praise and he lets out a shaky breath, clearly trying to restrain himself from coming too fast. His resilience is crumbling so easily at the sight of your pretty face and he hastily grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, biting down on it to keep the fabric from sliding down again. One nice side effect of this was that with his mouth stuffed, he would shut up for once. 

“Mmm, yes. That’s it, so good, aren’t you?” you coo and have Naoya gripping his cock tighter, his movements getting sloppy. His abs contracted with every jerk of his hand, and soon he was whining and panting, legs spread apart so beautifully for your perfect view. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?”, you ask while grinding against your pillow, mesmerized by the sight on your display. Seeing a man like Naoya falter so easily at your words alone has you feeling a certain kind of arousal, pooling right in your stomach. 

It makes you want to wreck him entirely. 

Naoya nods and whimpers, using his free hand to play with his nipple piercing, all while his other pumps himself into a higher sphere. His hips are bucking and precum is drooling from his pink tip, making a mess out of him and amplifying the lewd sounds. 

He doesn’t last long, and when he cums thick white ropes fall onto his stomach, his mouth hanging agape. His cheeks are flushed and he mewls while he keeps stroking himself, milking every last drop out of him while chanting your name in a needy voice.

This. This might be your favorite sight ever. 

“Such a good boy. So good for me. Now bend over for me, hm? Show’s not over yet.”

[wlwloverwrites]

Home Gym

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader

Warnings: daddy kink, slight mention of sweat? in a sexy way, thigh riding, nipple play, light biting kink, normal things used as sex toy, smut, small amounts of fluff, oral sex, fingering, shower sex (18+)

Main Masterlist

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS ON ANY OTHER PLATFORMS. DO NOT TRANSLATE MY WORK. NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO DO SO

You knew what your girlfriend was doing before you unlocked the front door. The walls rumbled with repeating vibrations. Her upbeat music she only ever played when she was working out echoed in the hallway. Your neighbors hardly complained… at least not about the music. They have complained about other loud noises coming your shared apartment.

You remember the first time they knocked on your door.

Sweat was beginning to build on your hairline, your robe was falling off your shoulder, and your feet were cold stepping on the hardwood floors. You opened the door to see your very uncomfortable neighbor, right away you knew they heard. You were mortified when they asked you keep it down. You gasped when they admitted your ‘rather loud noises’ had been a reoccurring problem. Genuine sorries fell past your mouth but were interrupted with a rather smug Kate.

Kate’s arms slipped around your waist while her lips found your bare shoulder. She kissed over the forming marks on your heated skin. She didn’t pay any attention to the same neighbor she sometimes helped carry groceries up the stairs. That neighbor was now bright red once they realized Kate was nude, completely unbothered. You said your rushed goodbyes and failed at keeping the noise down.

Your jingling keys did nothing to signal to your girlfriend that you were home. Their sound swallowed by the music Kate added to her ‘Gym’ playlist. After settling down, you found yourself taking a peek into her gym. She noted that the extra bedroom in your apartment would be the perfect place to work out. Your eyes trail over her body.

Her arms are glistening with sweat. Fly away hairs are glued to her forehead and her cheeks are flushed red. You watch as her necklaces dangle in the air with each push up. Her form is impressive, she makes it look easy. Staring at her lips you can see her counting under her breath, the last number falls past her lips with a loud sigh. She gets up to sit on her bench. She leans to get her water bottle and that’s when she sees you.

“Hey baby,” she says with a smile, setting her bottle down and lowering the music with her phone.

“Hi Kate.”

“How was your day?” She spreads her legs just an inch, welcoming you between them as you make your way over to her to greet her with a soft kiss.

“Was okay,” you hum against her lips, giggling softly when you feel her wandering hands.

“You look pretty, baby. Those are nice jeans,” she compliments with her eyes trailing down your body.

“Oh really? Thank you, a really pretty girl gifted me these jeans.” You reply playfully, giving her a nice twirl.

You recall the time she bought them. The skin on her arms was indented with the strings from the numerous shopping bags she insisted only she’d carry. She bought you so much you always had to find a way to rearrange your closet to fit even more clothes. Don’t even let her get started on jewelry. Your nightstand always had some type of jewelry resting on top. Sliver and gold necklaces, tennis bracelets, and rings sparkled with the soft light coming from your lamp. Kate loved buying you rings. Sometimes when she’s bored she just stops by the some random jewelry store and buys you another ring. She always takes a mental note on your reaction, trying to figure out which is your favorite style…. for research purposes of course.

“Girl has good taste,” Kate jokes slipping her hands into your butt pockets, giving your ass a playful squeeze that makes you laugh. “I’m just finishing up here. Do me a favor, baby,” She looks up at you. “Can you hand me the massage gun?”

You hum, turning to get what she asked for. You bought it for her birthday, you remember her smile when she realized what it was. She had been complaining about being sore after working out and occasional cramps, so you did what any good girlfriend would do. You added it to you shopping cart. You mess with the buttons, checking if it was charged.

“After you finish up, want to eat out?”

It’s quiet for a moment and look at your girlfriend confused. You roll your eyes playfully when you see the look on her face. The same cocky smirk you learned to love is on her face as she jokingly licks her lip.

“I mean since you’re offering. I wouldn’t mind…” Her hands grab your hips, her fingers tug on your belt loops forcing you down on her thigh. “I wouldn’t mind eating you out.”

You throw your head back with a laugh. The position you’re in is awkward, but before you can get off her thigh, her arm hugs your body down. Her unoccupied hand grabs the massage gun from your hand and switches it on.

“Finish up with me?” She asks innocently.

Too innocently.

Your hands went to her shoulders, awkwardly rubbing them to massage the forming knots. She sighs softly, you always loved the way you relaxed her. Dropping your hands to her arms, raising your eyebrows when you feel her muscles. Your lips part and suddenly you are hyper aware of your position. You never really noticed her ‘pump’ after working out, you were always quick to rush her in the shower or was simply not home to witness it; however, now you felt it. Kate seems to be in her own world, aiming the vibrating gun on her biceps.

Are you supposed to use it on your arms?

“Feels weird. I usually just do it on my legs,” she shrugs as if she can read your mind. You don’t know how you don’t put two and two together. It’s Kate for crying out loud. The both of you have been dating for the past two years and you still don’t know how you didn’t see her meticulously planning something in her head.

She smiles at you, it’s not a sweet smile.

It’s dark, and widens when your body jerks forward.

Vibrations crawl down her thigh and between yours. Just on the first setting, the vibrations were enough to dig your fingers into her flesh. Loud moans escape your mouth. Kate’s thumb hits a button, bumping up the speed and you feel like you’re flying. Throwing your head back leaves your throat to be Kate’s next victim. Her teeth bite at your skin making you hiss in pain. Your hiss quickly turns into a whine when she pulls away. A text notification pulls her attention away from you.

“K-Kate,” you whine. Your voice is shaky and you’re almost sure your eyes are crossed. Subconsciously your hips flex towards her body, your forehead fell at the junction of her neck.

“Hold on,” she is quick to dismiss you, not even caring one bit about you grinding on her bare thigh, like a bitch in heat. She doesn’t care that you are purposely shoving your breasts in her face to pull her eyes away from the screen and onto you. Your breathing become harsh, every vibration feeding into the sudden pleasure. Forcing your eyes open you look at Kate’s phone. She is the middle of typing a text when you whine again.

Kate shushes you.

Soaked between your thighs, with your wetness seeping through your pants and onto Kate’s thigh. An occasional moan would slip past your lips and it would result in a sharp stare from your girlfriend, but after the third one Kate had enough. Why she wanted silence was beyond you. Was she finally on the neighbor’s side?

Her empty hand, phone finally put away, fell right on your ass. A loud slap echoed through the room. Your skin burned, but it never stopped your hips, only made them faster. The slap only makes you moan louder. Clearly annoyed, the vibrations stop and you are left panting with want. There’s drool that piles by the corner of your mouth, but you quickly try to recover yourself. The inside of your thighs are numb.

“I told you to stay quiet, baby,” she tuts, her hand squeezes your face. She’s taunting you, knowing damn well how much you love when she gets cocky.

“But Daddy, I need you,” you whisper the words against her skin. Your lips are swollen from your teeth tugging at the poor skin. Fingertips dig into her clothes, a silent beg for her to get undress despite her being half naked and you being fully dressed.

“I know you need me, baby.” She whispers back, pushing her face closer to yours so your noses are brushing against each other. Her tongue peaks out from her lips and licks yours. “Want to know how I know?”

You don’t know what game she’s playing at, yet. Nonetheless, you nod, bumping your noses again. Leaning in for a kiss, you part your lips and tilt your head to the right. Patiently you wait because you know more is coming.

“It’s not because you’re begging for me,” she declines pressing a wet kiss against your lips before she pulls away with your bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s not because your eyes have gone all hazy.” You suck in a deep breath when she turns the gun back on and places against her thigh so you can feel the vibrations. “It’s because I can feel how wet you are between those pretty thighs.”

You whine into her neck, your body is shaking with need and it’s only then do you realize how right Kate is. You’re soaked between your thighs. Your panties feel like a second skin and your poor jeans do nothing to help when it came to friction. Drunk with pleasure you nod at her words. Grinding even harder against her thigh, chasing your high.

“‘m so wet,” you whine, sinking your teeth into the bare part of her shoulder. The salty taste of her sweat meets your taste and there is a small part of you that loves the taste. The bite makes Kate hiss in pain, she pushes you off slightly. Before you’re able to overthink why she practically rips your blouse off of you. Your blouse is now resting on top of a dumbbell and Kate’s mouth found its safe haven between your breasts. Not bothering to unclasp your bra, she shoves the padded material down, just enough so your nipples appear. Her lips wrap around your right nipple without warning.

“Come on, baby. Ride Daddy’s thigh. I know you want to.”

You can feel each syllable against your breast. Sensitive and needy you follow her instructions and whine when her lips find your left nipple. Kate, never the one to chose sides, gives the same treatment to the left breast. Groaning into your skin as her unoccupied hand finds your back. Dragging her fingertips down your skin until they find your jeans again. Kate loved the sight in front of her. You grinding against her thigh, bottom lips between your teeth, sweat building up on your forehead, sweet sounds escaping your lips, and most importantly the growing wet stain between your legs which ruins your jeans.

“Daddy knows your body too well, huh?”

She’s taunting you.

“Moan my name.”

“Kate.”

“Louder.”

“Kate!!”

The vibrations are strong — too strong. Your head feels fuzzy and eyes can’t seem to focus on anything. Drunk with pleasure you throw your head back, giving Kate more than enough space to attack sensitive parts of your neck once again. Hips are rolling fast against Kate’s thigh. Too busy chasing your high you barely kiss back your girlfriend who pulled you into a messy kiss. You whine against her lips when you the feeling in the pit of your stomach gets ready to be released.

“Fuck Daddy. I- I’m gon-,” you stumble over your words as Kate gives up on massaging her thigh and places the gun directly on your pelvis.

“Come on, baby. Get all messy for me,” Kate whispers against your skin, encouraging you to soak through your jeans. She bumps the vibrations even higher, sinks her teeth into the soft skin on your collarbone, and rolls your nipple with her free hand. It’s enough to push you off the edge.

Your eyes roll back as your whole body seizes with pleasure. Your fingers dig themselves into the full muscles in her arms. Your thighs clench trapping Kate’s so she can no longer bounce it. You feel wet between your legs, no doubt making your jeans a darker blue than before. You don’t know when the vibrations stop and the praises start.

“Pretty girl.” Kate’s mouth finds your ear, her teeth trap your earlobe, “Doing so good for Daddy.” Kate pays no mind in the aftermath stings caused from your nails. You smile softly when you feel sweaty arms wrap around your waist and a flushed cheeks rests on top of your naked breast. Kate, always the sucker for skin-to-skin contact, whispers how good you are for her. You giggle softly when you feel her wandering hands rub your back and her soft lips find your collarbone.

“You’re so pretty, baby.”

“Thank you.”

Kate laughs against your skin. Even when your mind isn’t working at its full capacity you still manage to keep your manners in check. The minutes you take in hold each other feel like hours, the both of you just enjoying each other’s touch. It isn’t until the sweat begins to build up that you pull away. Kate whines when you pull away but understands because her skin was flushed, which makes you feel bad. She never had the chance to cool off after her workout.

“Kate, honey. We need to shower. You’re stinky and I’m messy.” You groan, scrunching up your nose and giggling when Kate is clearly offended when you stated the truth. 

You jump off her lap when she reaches to tickle you. Smirking when you escape from her attacks and watch as she gets off the the bench. You back away and you sprint to the door, playing a small game of cat and mouse.

“You’re not too sore, baby?” She asked with faux concern, raising your suspicion as she makes no move to chase away you like she usually does.

“No. Are you?” You challenge, looking back at your girlfriend who is pulling off her sports bra, it takes all your willpower to not look. She stands shirtless in the middle of the room for a second before she walks to you. She takes advantage of your eyes that dart to her chest and grabs you.

“Never, just wanted to check in cause I still need to eat you out.” She says with a wink. Her hands cradle your face as she makes you walk backwards to your shared bathroom.

“I made a promise to my girlfriend and I intend to keep it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm.” Kate nods as she presses a gentle kiss on your lips.

Finally, the both of you are in the bathroom. Loud giggles fill the room along with the sound of the shower as you get undressed. Kate checks if the water temperature is okay before she gets in and offers her hand to you as you step inside. Sighing softly at the water as you wash away your sweat, and worries. It doesn’t take long for Kate to fall on her knees and hike your leg over her shoulder. Her directness has you holding yourself upright against the sage green tiles you have decorating your shower wall.

“Fuck Daddy.”

Her tongue is gentle, licking your throbbing clit. Kate takes everything you offer her. She moans softly at your salty taste that is watered down with the droplets of water that also fall on her face. She takes in the way your finger get tangled in her soaked hair. She takes in the way you can’t seem to hold your moans, forgetting how loud you can get. It isn’t long til Kate adds her fingers. Her pointer and middle finger find their way inside you. Kate is careful to make sure you don’t lose your balance before curling her fingers in a ‘come here’ motion. You let out a high pitched whine when she repeats the motion again and again.

“I’m gonna come again! Oh Kate.”

Kate keeps a steady pace and makes sure to not be too rough knowing you’re sore despite your confident ‘no’ you said earlier. You can’t get over the feeling of her tongue, eyes rolling back as you moan her name over and over. Your hips roll against her face, forcing her tongue to lick over her fingers and her nose bump your clit. The sound that leaves you is pornographic making Kate laugh against your pussy and another voice yell.

“Can you guys hurry up in there?! I have to use the restroom.”

Your gasp is loud but is quickly switched to an even louder moan when you fall apart on your girlfriend’s tongue. Your fingers tug on Kate’s wet hair and she pushes her mouth closer to your pussy.

“Kate, Kate, honey. Who is that?” Your words are rushed as you try and catch your breath, legs are still shaky and you’re pretty sure your eyes are crisscrossed…again.

“Yelena.” She says as if it is obvious. You blink, once then twice and look at your girlfriend who is already rinsing the shampoo off her dark hair.

“What?”

“She was on her way when you were,” she pauses as she reaches for the loofa behind you. “Well you were… you know,” she pauses and then drops her mouth and rolls her eyes back before mimicking you, “Oh yes, Kate. Fuck, Daddy!”

You feel the heat on the your cheeks and grow hotter when you hear a very confused, russian accent outside the bathroom door a second time, “I thought Y/N finished already?”

You’re mortified, but Kate only laughs as she steps out of the shower. Walking out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around her waist, leaving the top part of her body bare.

“Yelena, don’t you know we have a guest bathroom?”

“Don’t you know I can hear her from the hallway?”

thank you all for 5,000 followers! please reblog, comment, and like! - lover

[cierai]

MAKE UP FOR IT — ft. sakusa kiyoomi

warnings — none

for the fourth night in a row kiyoomi had to cancel date night. or as the both of you have been saying “rain check”. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t upset, but you understood. whenever he had last minute practice or team meeting he couldn’t help it.

you knew after the second night he cancelled when he’d do it again by the look in his face. he made the same face every time. his eyebrows pressed together as he stared at his phone and his face dropped. he glanced from the phone to you before turning it off and putting in his pocket.

sakusa inhaled deeply preparing to let out a heavy sigh but you stopped him before he could. “rain check?” you say as you began to take off your earrings. you guys had plan to go out to dinner this time. you wore your best outfit and put on a new pair of earrings kiyoomi had bought for you.

“i’m sorry.” he starts as he steps towards you and grabs your hands in his firmly. “it’s okay i’ll be fine, we’ll just try again another night,” you smile as his thumbs rub circles on the backs of your hands.

that was the same thing he did next two times it happened. you didn’t even want to rain check anymore. when kiyoomi was about to suggest it, you began to act casually. “it’s fine i’m just gonna head to bed, i’ll see you in the morning.” you dismissed yourself. as soon as you feel like you were out of his line of sight your mouth formed into a frown.

“oh okay, i love you.” your boyfriend said and you smiled before your turn and face him . “i love you too.” kiyoomi gives you one last apologetic glance before he leaves and that was the last time you thought you’d see him that night.

at almost 12 AM you woke up to kiyoomi rubbing your shoulder and calling your name. “y/n, wake up i have something for you.” your vision was blurred and distorted from the darkness of your room.

rubbing your eyes didn’t help much with your sight but your boyfriend noticed this and turned the bedside lamp on. “babe here,” he whispers as he grabs your hands to help you sit up. “what is it?” you said, your voice raspy.

“i have something to show you, come on.” he urges you once more and you finally process that you’re awake and agree to follow him.

the tall dark haired male leads you by your intertwined hands out of your bedroom and to the patio in your backyard.

you gasp almost immediately at the sight. “when did you have time to do this?” you ask as your hand slips out of his and you inch towards the beautiful setup on the patio.

there were string lights hanging around the backyard and your eyes were lit up in awe. “when i got home and you were asleep,” he tells you and you frown at kiyoomi before pulling him into a hug.

“i love you, you know that right?” you say before placing a kiss on to his soft cheek. “i would hope so,” he squints and his soft lips meet your forehead. “i love you too,” he smiles “and this is my apology for missing date night. i wanted to make it up to you.” he explains while grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the little dinner set up.

as the two of you sat down you continued to stared at the set up in shock. there were some of your favorite meals and appetizers, along with snacks you loved. “wow you went all out!” you mused reaching for a snack.

“do you forgive me?” kiyoomi asked, sliding his hand out of yours and to your thigh. “we’ll see,” you shrug while taking a bite out of your treat. “we’ll see?” he repeated back to you confused.

“yeah, we’ll see how the rest of the night plays out.”

needless to say the rest of the night plays out well. so well in fact, you wake up the next morning in nothing but kiyoomi’s shirt. before you, he wakes up and sees the marks left down his chest in the mirror before he heads in for practice.

reblogs are appreciated

[moonlightndaydreams]

When SKZ find your smut reading history....

NSFW // SMUT // MDNI

a/n: this is a reupload from ages ago, and thought I'd bring it back.

Chan: Werewolf Romance.

When Chan finds your iPad with your tumblr account open he notices A LOT of WEREWOLF themed stories in your feed. “She must be really into this.” He notes and then he decides he will bring some of this to the bedroom. He checks when the next full moon is. Then he gets to work organizing. Think furs and rugs and a crackling fire. Chan has totally brought out his outfit from Kingdom out of the wardrobe. It’s not the first time you have role played during sex, so he’s confident to just spring the whole thing on you. You come in through the front door to your home and he’s immediately on you. Pushing you up against the wall. “I can smell your cunt already, my precious little thing.” He sneers. You gasp when he growls and sinks to his knees, tearing your skirt right off you along with your panties. “Channie, are you… are you being a—” you start as you take in his costume. “Yes a werewolf baby.” He snarls as he stands back up and releases his dick, lifting you up against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist as he impales you on his cock. No prep. You love it. He attacks your collarbone ferociously with his mouth as he carries you to the bedroom where he’s set it up to look like some kind of primitive sleeping (fucking) area. You can do nothing but let him fuck you dumb, marking you, biting you, eating you out like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted, not stopping until the sun comes up.

Hyunjin: Old Time Vampire king. Ethereal. Beautiful. Captivating.

Your bf Hyunjin knows you’re into the whole “vampire thing” what with all your Anne Rice books, and obsession with Dracula. But his idea to bring your vampire fantasy to life started all because he saw this gothic-like winged armchair in a vintage store. He had this vision of himself wearing all black leather, his black hair half up-half down, and makeup. He’s thinking dark red lipstick, pale foundation, contact lenses. So he bought the armchair, some eerie candlesticks, and a soft red blanket (to fuck on after you’ve sucked him off on the chair). He waited for a night when you’d be home in the dark. He was ready, dressed up, candles lit. You entered a whole other world when you entered your bedroom. Hyunjin never looked so fuckable. So grand sitting with one leg crossed over the other, his hand playing around near his mouth. A wild, crazed expression on his face. He looked absolutely unhinged and you fell to your knees immediately to beg him to let you suck his cock, and for him to suck your pulse. The next few hours saw you choking on his cock, being bitten all along your neck and inner thighs, being eaten out like you were having the life sucked from you, to being absolutely possessed by this beautiful man as he relentlessly fucked into you and filling you up over and over again.

Minho: Mafia /Ganster/ Business Man.

Yep, Lee Minho knew you love your Mafia/gangster enemies to lovers books. You had a whole fucking bookshelf of them these days. He wondered what it was about them that kept your nose buried in the pages, so he read a few of them himself when you were at work. Holy fucking shit you were into some rough, toxic themes. He thought to himself. Minho could work with that though, he loved to be bossy and rough. You received a message one afternoon to meet him at a hotel. Wear something sexy, and be ready for a surprise. You entered the hotel room, one of the more flashy suites, to find the room dimly lit save for a lamp on a desk. Sitting at the other side of the desk was your Minho dressed in a flashy suit and an unreadable expression as he sat reading one of your Mafia books. He looked up and gave you a sinister smirk. “Hmm, it seems according to this book, you’ve been sent to me as some sort of payment or bargain.” He stood up, throwing the book on the desk and sauntering over to stand next to you. You were absolutely soaking at the thought of what Minho might have in store for you. “And that you are here simply to please me. My little slave bride.” He whispered in your ear. “And I want to start with you sitting on my desk while I eat you out.” He slid his hand up your inner thigh to explored the fabric of your panties. “So wet. Then you’re gonna let me fuck your face. And that’s just for starters.”

Felix: Fairy in the woods/otherworldly creatures.

Felix sat wide eyed looking at your Kindle library. From what he could see you had some sort of non-human and size kink. And forests. Always forests. He didn’t want you to know that he’d been looking through your stories, but he couldn’t keep his mind off of somehow recreating the theme with you? He thought about it for weeks, and then the idea came. “Love, I need you to come meet me at this little holiday place tomorrow afternoon”. He gave you the address. You were intrigued and excited for a little dirty weekend away. It turned out Felix had booked a cabin in the woods, a tiny home. How cute. Until Felix stepped out of the cabin and rushed over to you. He seemed nervous as he asked if you were a lost human. A lost what? You gawked, but then you saw it. His contact lenses making him seem mystical. The pale foundation that allowed his freckles to show through. The light lipstick, slightly smeared like he’d been kissing for hours, and the interesting attire… like wings? Then it clicked. So he knew what type of books really get you hot, then? But he seemed so nervous. “I am so very lost.” You cooed looking through your lashes innocently. “Can you help me? Take me to your home?” You added. Once inside the cabin he sat nervously watching you. “Have you never seen a human up close before?” You broke the silence. Felix shook his head. You stood up from your seat and slowly walked over to the visibly shaking man/creature? You straddled him and sunk down onto his lap and his dick immediately started to fill out. He could never get enough of you. “That must mean you’ve never touched a human then?” You purred in his ear. “And,” you stroked his cheek, making him shiver. “you definitely haven’t fucked one.” You leaned in close “Let me change that for you.”

Jisung: A Demon/Spirit/Creature.

Hannie couldn’t quite decide what fantasy to bring to life for you. It wasn’t his first foray. He loved to see what you had been reading on Tumblr and then putting a little something together for you. He’d “sprung” things on you before, like when he dressed up as an alien and pretended his dick was a tentacle (along with the toys he had bought for the occasion). He’d dressed up in lingerie one time because you had read a cross dressing piece. Han would do anything to please you, and although he was always nervous, you always got so aroused that the nerves were worth it. The only problem was that he’d sometimes get confused (or carried away) and end up mixing themes. Like tonight. You weren’t sure what he was supposed to be, but he’d made a nest of clothes on the floor, along with pillows and blankets. He’d got his hands on some interesting contact lenses and he was butt-naked. “Is this a nest my love?” you gushed bringing your hands together in excitement. Han nodded. “I’m a demon… Or maybe an incubus… um.. or…” he scratched his head. “Are you a demon-slash-incubus-slash-creature that needs taking care of…. or…. a demon-slash-incubus-slash-creature that wants to fuck my brains out until I beg you to stop?” Hannie looked at you with confusion and your heart melted at how innocent he looked. He scratched his head. “Um… I can’t remember what the story said.” he half smiled. You grinned “Baby! Just throw me down on the floor and see what happens.” And he did. It started off sweet and tender, but as usual, once Han got into it, you ended up sweaty, filthy and covered in cum, and most definitely satisfied. (sorry guys, I couldn’t decide what I wanted our Jisung to do… I like him in so many ways but I had to go with something before I overthought things).

Binnie: Fireman spicy romance.

That is what Binnie sees you reading while curled up on the couch next to you. You seem to be absolutely enthralled, captivated even, but somehow you are able to keep a straight face whilst reading the really dirty parts. Binnie wondered what kinds of faces you’d pull if he dressed up like a fireman and fucked you senseless? Would you keep a straight face, or would you beg him to let you come, to save you from that fire in your core? He needed to find out. “You know, babe,” he pointed at the book in your hand. “I reckon I could make a better fireman than that made up character in your book.” You raise an eyebrow and look up from your page. “You think?” you challenge. Binnie loves a challenge. So you both made a plan. You would call him up on the phone because you were in the bath tub and needed rescuing. He’d come in to put the fake fire out and save you. But he can’t resist your nakedness, your neediness, your timidness. You can’t resist the tight shirt and uniform, his muscles bulging underneath the cotton fabric. He’d even gone as far as smearing grey ash on his body for full effect. “It’s okay baby girl, Binnie’s got you. What do you need to feel better? What can I do?” You look up at him with big fearful eyes. “I…I need you to fill me up… need your cock… please.” you are desperate, and Binnie cannot deny you, bending you over the side of the tub and pushing his thick cock deep into you. “Let Binnie make it all better.” And he smirks when he sees you can’t keep a straight face, it’s contorted in pleasure, while he’s doing the filthiest things to you.

Jeongin: Boy next door/ Kidnapper

You loved your dinner dates with your boyfriend, Jeongin, and this one was no exception. He’d picked you up, bought you flowers, took you to a cute restaurant. You both laughed at his silly words. All the cheesy, cute couple things. Jeongin was the sweetest man you had ever dated. Super considerate and kind. That’s why you were taken by surprise when after you left the restaurant he pushed you up against the wall. It wasn’t like him to exhibit PDA, and he wasn’t about to either. He leaned in close to your ear. “I know the types of stories you’re into.” he whispered. Oh! Fuck. Your eyes widened. “And I wanna explore the concept with you.” You gasped. He knew you were into the kidnapping/Stockholm syndrome type scenarios? You made eye contact with him. “If you’ll let me, this is what’s going to happen.” he kissed your neck softly. “You’re going to get into the car, no fuss.” His stroked your cheek with a finger. A wetness forming in your panties, a thrilling feeling through your veins. “Then I am going to restrain you, and take you into my special hideout where no one can find you. Where no one can hear you scream.” Where did this Jeongin come from? “And…and what are you going to do with me?” you stammered playing along. He pulled away and smiled kindly, but there was a sinister energy behind is eyes. “Oh, I’m going to make you beg me for release… sexually that is. And I am going to use you however I choose. If.. if you want to that is.” he suddenly went shy. “Jeongin! Let’s fucking go!”

Seungmin: Pirate! “Can I tie you up tonight, doll?”

Seungmin remarks while you finish washing up dishes together. “Of course.” you reply like you were talking about what movie to watch later. You both loved a little bondage here and there. So after the kitchen was tidied, and you had both showered, Suengmin directed you to kneel on the middle of the bed in just a little satin nightie. “Let’s get you restrained. Good girl.” he whispered. “I’m going to to leave the room for a moment, okay? But I just want to make sure you have your safeword and colour system revised. Tonight is going to be a bit different to usual so I need you to speak up if you’re not comfortable. No safeword or colour, I keep going. Got it?” you nod. Seungmin was always so practical, and sensible, which meant you got the shock of your life when he returned dressed as a fucking pirate! You almost laughed if not for the horror of realising that he must have seen what smut you had been reading. You felt like you were going to die of shame. Suengmin, sensing your humiliation laughed coldly. “This is what you want, right?” he smirked at you. “I mean,” he knelt on the bed and gripped your chin, forcing it up to look at him. He even had an eyepatch on. “Stowing away on a ship like this, a pretty little angel like you… you are asking to be ruined.” he slid a hand up you thigh to find your dripping cunt. “Hmm… looks like that’s exactly what you want to happen. Turn around.” Your turned around and was pushed face first into the mattress. “It’s been so long since I got to fuck a pretty little pussy like this. Hold still. I need to see how much of me you can take, before I really get started.”

------

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @starr-lvst @queenmea604 @queen-in-the-shadows @newhope8 @vanillacupcakefrosting @3rachasdomesticbanana @fun-fanfics @palindrome969 @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @yaorzu-blog @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @everythingboutkpop @jiminssluttyminx @felixleftchickennugget @minho4cat

[pinguwrites]

The Doll's Burial ⸻ Jonathan Crane

READ DISCLAIMER

pairing | jonathan crane x reader

summary | You knew Jonathan Crane was meant for you from the moment you laid your eyes on him — a brilliant man, filled with wit and curiosity and youth. So perfect, in fact, that you have to take him away from the rest of the world and make him yours, your darling doll. He’ll like it, won’t he?

word count | 9k

Warnings: NON-CON/DUB-CON, dark!reader, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, reader’s delusional and sick and sadistic but sweet ig, religious (specifically Christian) disdain from Jon , murder/torture towards jon/in general, jon isn’t scarecrow au, slightly ooc jon, p in v sex, househusband!jonathan, PROCEED WITH CAUTION - DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE

Disclaimer: This is part of my unfinished works. I don't write anymore, but I still wanted to publish what I have. I'll use bullet points to explain what I planned to happen at the end. Also note that this is heavily unedited, there will be a lot of mistakes.

i.

You didn’t know what beauty was until you met Jonathan Crane that fateful winter’s night, a night where the season’s gentle touch had left windows glazed with frost, and the late evening coated in a thick, gloomy darkness. Crystal flakes were falling from the sky onto your body like specks of dust, but it was nothing compared to the way it looked on him, his dark hair contrasting with the white, the snow melting upon the touch of his skin. His breath was coming out in puffs of smoke before dissipating into the bitter air, his square glasses glinting in the light of the street lamps.  

Time had frozen still at that moment, as though your brain had gone numb, much like the cold was numbing your ears and toes and the tips of your fingers. Licking your lips, you observed as the man — whose name you did not know then — glanced at the slim watch on his wrist, shivering ever so slightly as a breeze brushed him by. He was wearing an elegant suit, colored charcoal, the dress shirt underneath thinly striped, and his shoes polished and new, no doubt recently bought. He seemed to be an educated man with wealth, maybe a doctor or lawyer, but you guessed doctor, because he struck you as a scientific mind, curious but practical. 

He wasn’t married, as he had no ring, which led you to believe that his profession took up a lot of his time and effort. After all, how could a man as gorgeous as him not be desired? Even the thought of him in bed with you set your loins alight, not to mention the slightest notion of him being yours until death do us part.  

“Silly,” you had murmured to yourself, though there was a soft smile playing on your lips. “You’re thinking too far ahead, like always.”

But it really wasn’t your fault. He was so delightful to look at. Almost like a doll, with his plump pink lips and blush-dusted cheeks. You could imagine it already: a domestic life. He needn’t not lift a finger, not think a single thought, as long as he allowed you to hold him in his arms. How was it that someone who had not done anything at all to warrant such attraction, found himself at the center of your obsessiveness?

There’s something about him. Something different I cannot deny. He was unlike anyone you had ever seen before, anyone you would ever see in the future. It was strange how humans worked, heart so easily manipulated. What was it that caught your attention in the first place? you wondered. The aesthetic of the scene? His simple presence in the emptiness of the street? Did it even matter anymore, now that you were so hopelessly captured by him?

“Hey, excuse me, ma’am!”

Heart thumping against your chest at the sudden noise, you answered hesitantly, “Yes?”

The man, who was raising his voice so he could be heard across the street, gave you a wary look. “Do you know when the bus will arrive? I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes — the sign said it would arrive at seven.”

“I’m not sure,” you lied. You hadn’t expected him to talk to you. The event felt out of control, like you weren’t sure what was going to happen next. It bothered you, but if anything, this was a sign. A sign that perhaps he was the one. “I’m waiting for it as well,” you continued. “Do you mind if I cross?”

“I don’t.”

After you made sure there were no cars nearby, you walked across the road and finally got your first view of the man, finding his features, his mannerisms, his everything to be just as breathtaking as it was from a distance. He had a relatively low voice, around a medium pitch, and it was grated, almost like a vocal fry. He had these little freckles scattered across his face like distant stars in the sky. If it was possible, you would have plucked out every single one of them to store in a jar.

“I usually don’t take the bus,” you said smoothly, trying to start a conversation, though all you could focus on the way he was looking at you, his gaze piercing and icy, “but my car’s in a workshop. I thought I’d try my luck here before heading to the subway.”

Your car wasn’t in a workshop. It was in the garage parking lot just diagonal of his view. You had only gotten out because you wanted a quick coffee at the local café. Eternally grateful that you spotted him along the way, you weren’t sure what you would have done if you hadn’t. It had only been a few minutes, and you were already in love.

The man hummed in response, not seeming to take much of an interest. “I’m in a similar situation myself . . . I’ll be on my way, then,” he said, clearing his throat. 

He started walking down the sidewalk to the nearest subway station, a walk you knew was going to take about a while. And in those clothes? He was most certainly going to catch a cold. If it was proper to do so, you would have offered him your own coat, but in a city like this, where no one trusted, you didn’t need to make him suspicious of your kindness. People were like animals, small critters. Approaching them too fast would scare them off. You had to be subtle, ease into it before you did anything too rash. 

“Are you coming?” he asked, turning around, waiting for you to follow him. His tone was expectant, and almost humorous, like the thought of you continuing to wait for the bus was amusing to him. It made you amused. There would be work to do with his arrogance when you finally take him away, you made a mental note of that. 

“No,” you responded. “I’ve changed my mind, I’ll have a friend come pick me up.”

“. . . Are you sure?” he pressed, concerned. He was concerned for you. It was so sweet. 

“I’m sure,” you repeated. If you were with him for a second longer you would have gotten down on your knees and proposed. 

He considered your words, then nodded. “Well, have a nice day, ma’am.”

“You as well . . . I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Jonathan. Dr. Jonathan Crane.”

“Jonathan,” you repeated, the word rolling off your tongue with ease. Jon-ah-thun, meaning God has given, gift of God. A gift to you, surely, or why else would he be here, standing in your presence if he wasn’t meant to be taken away? To be polite, you gave him your own name, hoping he liked it as much as you liked his, and simply said, “Have a nice day,” hiding the butterflies inside your stomach that flew around like hail in a blizzard. 

Jonathan Crane, my very own doll.

+++

The chains clinked against the others in the link, the cuffs tugging against the skin, pulled so hard it restricted the blood flow. It was only then the noises stopped, and a defeated sigh left your doll’s lips. His head leaned against the wall and his posture slumped, as though he had given up. It was a shame, too. The sight of him struggling was exhilarating. It filled you with such excitement and arousal that you wished he kept going.

Currently, you were working, with your laptop placed out in front of you on your desk, some oatmeal to your right. The camera system was hooked up to the large monitor, so from here you could watch Jonathan’s movements. He had been awake since the break of dawn, the time he usually got up for work, except he wasn’t at his house today, he was in your basement, body against the cold floor, trembling like a scared bunny.

The planning was the most difficult part of this endevour. You had never actually kidnapped someone before. When you were a child, the local police suspected you in the mutilation of a few small critters in your apartment complex, and in college you were involved in the accidental death of one of your fellow students (he fell down the stairs and hit his head, nothing that anyone could prove was your fault), but to actually kidnap someone was entirely different. 

It would be an ongoing investigation until the case was classified as cold, and even then some cold cases were picked up again after years; you had to make sure no could connect a link, because some people were too narrow-minded to understand how true and unconditional your adoration for him was; and not only that, but the amount of research — or stalking, as some might call it — that you had to do was exhaustive; but really, it was worth it, and Jonathan would fall for you just as you did for him within a few months, maybe a year at most. He would come to realize just how much you cared about him, and just how wonderful your life could be together. Once you arrived at that point, things would flow seamlessly. You had all the precautions in place. Even if he did try and escape, you always had a sedative in your pocket, and all the doors to your house was just as secure on the inside as it was on the outside. 

The only thing you worried about was witnesses. See, Jonathan was usually very careful not to go into secluded alleyways or dingy locations on his own, which made it difficult to take him. So, you had to bump into him in a coffee shop — a coincidence, you had told him — and from there lure him out.  

You sighed lovingly and gazed at Jonathan through the screen, deciding that it was time to bring him breakfast and lay out the ground rules.

After a few more minutes, you crept down the stairs with some food and water, careful not to step on any of the parts that would cause a creaking sound, and unlocked the basement with the passcode. When you opened the door, Jonathan raised his head, scooting his body away from your figure until he backed into a corner.

It was a dingy little place. It used to have carpet, but you removed that in favor of plastic tarp on the floor, nothing that could indefinitely stain the cement underneath. The walls were covered in that as well, and there was no window or clock to let him know the time. There were blankets to the side, and a small toilet to the other corner of the room. It was a good enough place for now. You hated seeing him in these conditions, but only once he proved responsible would you update him to a secured bedroom. At this point in time, he wasn’t capable of understanding things, and would only try to run away if you gave him more freedom. 

Jonathan stayed quiet for a long while, and so did you, but then he scoffed. “I’m not eating that.”

Frowning, you bent down to his level. You placed the bowl in front of him, the sweet aroma of cinnamon and honey filling the stale air. “It's not poisoned, you know that.”

Jonathan did know that. He was smart enough to realize that a person wouldn’t go through all the effort of bringing him here, only to poison him. There needn’t be a conversation over this. He didn’t reach for the bowl yet, but you knew he would when you left. Eventually, hunger would get to him. 

“Are you in love with me?” he asked next.

Yes, yes I am. I love you as true as the air you breathe, as blue as your eyes gleam, and as certain as the beat of your heart. 

“Why do you ask?” you said instead.

“Your eyes are always dilated, you can’t keep them off of me. Not at the bus station, the coffee shop.” He paused. “You’re sick. I’m not in love with you. Whatever fantasy you have is not real.”

“You may not be in love with me now, but you will be soon.”

There was no point in hiding your intentions. 

He scoffed again, head down. “Realize this, I have nothing. Whatever you want from me, I can’t give you.”

Reaching out to him, you rubbed your thumb against his skin. He was cold. Again. 

“You need to learn how to keep warm,” you said, concerned. “There’s some blankets. Use them.”

Jonathan pulled away, though you could tell he wanted you to keep doing that, because for a brief moment he almost leaned into your touch and warmth. So, you did just that. You gripped his chin and forced him to look at you. He put up a bit of a struggle, but in the end, he relented, and let you caress his skin. Letting your fingers trail up his cheek to his nose, you quickly made your way to his eyelashes, his long, thick eyelashes that fluttered like a black bird’s feathers. 

“I did a bit of research on you,” you said. “Just enough to make sure no one would come looking for you right away, to learn your patterns and your habits, or any other important bits of information . . . like the fact that you have a therapist.”

Jonathan looked straight into your eyes. It was almost as if, at the moment, he was more concerned about what you might have read about him than his current predicament. He didn’t want anyone to know his past, his secrets, his weaknesses. It was embarrassing, and you knew that because you read in his file — which took atrociously long to obtain — how ashamed he was of himself, how conscious. 

He shoved you away, and you backed off.

“Don’t be mean,” you frowned, hurt. “It was necessary. Watching you through your window wasn’t enough to truly know you. And even now, I’m sure there’s so much I’ve missed. It’ll be nice. As long as you listen and don’t cause trouble, everything will be okay.”

“You’re delusional,” he scowled. “I’ve known enough people like you in my life to understand how you work. Once you’re tired of me, you’ll dump me and get someone new to torment.”

“That’s not true, and you’ll see that,” you protested. It broke you to know that he thought of himself as expendable. “. . . I know you need some time to think. I’ll come down in a few hours with lunch, alright?”

You took his silence as a ‘yes’.

“Good boy.”

+++

A few weeks had passed by. The snow was beginning to melt, turning into a mushy, brown sludge that you had to trudge through every morning to get to work. Admittedly, you were quite busy with your job, but you made as much time as you could for Jonathan. Your doll was in a sour mood the entire time, and after calling you a bitch and a unintelligent, perverted whore — such colorful language — he started begging you to let him go.

I won’t tell anyone. I’ll give you money. Please, I’m begging you. All clearly signs of emotional distress.

It hurt you a lot when Jonathan rejected your affection. More than you thought it would. He should be grateful that you took such an interest in him, but instead he was disgusted. Of course, he would fall for you soon, but it made you wish that he had already done so, and that too on the night you two met. 

Wouldn’t it have been romantic? Love at first sight. Did you not deserve something like that? For someone to look into your eyes the way you did his and think, This is the one I want to marry. Again, you knew it would take time, but the wound still cut deep. 

He was eating, which was good. One less thing to worry about. But when you checked his wrists to see if the cuffs were still locked you found them red with marks. It worried you a bit, so you applied some cream to them — or at least, tried to, with the way he was struggling and all. You did other things like bathe him, but despite how desperate you were to see his pretty cock, you never went beyond the waistline, and encouraged him to clean himself down there instead. You hoped it established some sense of trust between you two, because at least Jonathan would realize that you would never do anything to make him uncomfortable. 

When you were researching Jonathan Crane — before you took him — you learned that he was a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. A professor at Gotham University first, but either way, it seemed that his heart lied with the sciences. You did a little internet digging and tracked his book orders, then picked something you thought he would like and was sure he hadn’t read yet.

One book on chemistry and its applications on brain science, and another on psychology, a look into real-world examples written by a doctor from the late twentieth century. 

Carefully wrapping it up in light blue paper, you tied it with a navy-colored ribbon and made a bow. Your fingers lingered on the box, a little nervous about handing it over to Jonathan, but you walked downstairs with it anyways, opening the basement door and watching with satisfaction as he scurried away once again.

“It’s just a gift,” you laughed, setting it down in front of him. He watched it warily. “I want you to open it. I hope you’ll like it.”

Jonathan’s lower lip quivered, and you had a sudden desire to kiss him. Lips upon lips, heavy and sweet. Sometimes, you felt as though the only way to get close to him — truly close — was to peel off his skin and wrap it around you. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? He would die, which you didn’t want, but to think about it was enough. It was so intimate it made you hot all over. 

“Please,” Jonathan muttered. “Please let me go. I’ll do anything.”

You sighed. “I don’t want to hear this again. I’ve been really patient with you. Can’t you just . . . be normal?”

“Normal?” 

Oh, dear. He’s about to go into another one of his fits.

“How can you expect me to be normal when you’ve got me locked in chains?” he frowned. Surprisingly enough, he wasn’t getting upset, but rather more submissive. He wasn’t scowling or spitting in your face, but rather his head was downturned and his body language more open. Was this it? Was this the point of breaking? 

“I have nothing,” he continued. “No bed to sleep in, no touch . . .”

Touch. Well, he had you, didn’t he? 

“You don’t like it when I touch you,” you said.

He looked away, almost embarrassed. This doll of a man had you completely enamored, fooled, like a hopeless soul waiting for the heavens. Anything he did, anything he said, would make you fold in a heartbeat. If he asked you to go get the moon, you would die, frozen in the vastness of space just trying. He could make you do anything, except perhaps let you go, but only because you knew that deep down, he didn’t really want it.

Jonathan didn’t make an effort to come closer to you, and you didn’t either. Despite your devotion, you wanted to see him make the first move. You had waited long enough. All you wanted was to be loved by him, and you knew that he had it in him to show his affection. He just feared you, feared that you would hurt him.

. . . Maybe a few more days. A few more days of waiting until you would take drastic action.

+++

Laying on the couch, you turned on the TV, opening up the Gotham news channel as background noise while you dozed off. There were a few errands to be done, but you decided to put them off until tomorrow as the weather had gotten worse. It wasn’t raining anymore, and the snow was still brown and mushy, but it was freezing, and you made the stupid mistake of leaving your car outside. 

After ten minutes of just lazing around, you were abruptly woken up by the ring of your doorbell. With a groan, you got up off the couch and unlocked the door, only for your nerves to jump and a nervous chuckle escape your lips.

“I — well, hi. Can I help you, officer?” you asked, looking the man in front of you up and down. He had wispy brown hair that was covered by a fur hoodie and a kind smile painted on his face. He didn’t look like he meant any harm, but perhaps this was just a facade to get your guard down. For all you knew there could be police officers stationed all around your house. Or were you being too paranoid? Yes. You probably were. 

“You can,” he said, voice a little gruff. “My name is Peter Wright, I just wanna ask you a few questions. May I come inside?”

You hesitated. “What's this about?”

Wright chuckled, but didn’t answer. “Do you know a man named Jonathan Crane? You may have just passed him on the street — he had dark hair, glasses, clean-cut . . .”

Your mind ran through all the possibilities. There was absolutely no way this man could know you two even met. You were so careful — so unbelievably careful. Was there something you had overlooked? Something you had missed? Maybe someone saw you with Jonathan and reported it to the police once they realized he was missing.

“. . . No.”

Wright smiled. “No need to be so tense. We just wanna know where he is.”

You smiled, trying to be friendly. “I’m sorry, sir, I have no clue who that is. You probably have the wrong person — ”

“ — yeah, figured,” Wright interrupted, flashing another smile. “He’s been missing for a while. You’re not in trouble, we just have to check every lead.”

“Oh, I understand completely,” you said. “May I ask, why have I become a . . . lead?”

“Just some security footage on a date of interest. You had crossed the street at a bus station.” Wright paused for a moment, seeing if you remembered anything. You did, but you kept your face blank. It was better to pretend. It made you relieved, however. This was nothing serious, and nothing that was your fault. “He wrote it down in one of his journal entries, that’s why we checked.”

“Journal entries?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“Yes. That’s how all these smart people are like, or so I’ve been told. Methodical, pattern-orientated.”

Was he even supposed to be telling you this? It seemed like this man was more loose-lipped than he first appeared. Perhaps you could pull some information out of him, turn on your charm. 

“You know what? Come inside. It’s cold, and I can make you some hot coffee.”

“Really?” Wright raised an eyebrow. “Now you’re getting let me in?”

You gave a playful glare. “I’m not gonna ask again, sir.”

Wright obliged, and for the rest of the evening, he divulged information about the case, a little too flirtatious for your taste, but it got the work done, and by the end of the day, you learned that they had nothing on you, and nothing on this case. 

+++

“Jonathan,” you cooed as you entered the basement with a plate of mashed potatoes and steak. You immediately noticed that his knuckles were bloody, and realized what he was trying to do — he must have heard another person upstairs and banged against the concrete walls in the hopes that he would’ve been heard.

What a stupid boy!

“Hold on,” you muttered, annoyed, placing the food down. “I’ll get you some bandages — ”

“ — Can’t you just be here?” Jonathan said shakily, his voice hoarse. “You said you loved me but you never spend time with me, you’re always upstairs . . . I’m going insane.”

Your heart leaped. Finally. Finally! It was happening. He was beginning to see, to truly see the connection you both had. You could envision it already — a wedding, with only an eficator there to make things legitimate, with flowers and a beautiful background, perhaps a sunset or beach, or maybe some mountains — topped with snow. That would be perfect, absolutely wonderful. Oh, you would have to start making the plans now! 

“Did I do something wrong?”

“What?” You snapped out of your thoughts. “Oh, no. No, darling. I’m just so excited, I’ve been waiting so long . . . Here, can I hold you?”

Jonathan nodded with a sniffle. 

Not wasting a single moment, you wrapped him up in your arms, watching as he delicately snuggled his head in the crook of your neck. The feeling of his hair brushing up against your skin was exhilarating, making you shudder and shake like you were about to lose it. About to lose it and take him right then and there, all romantic like, with nice words and the scent of rose petals . . . Maybe your first time could be in a bath, with lit candles, cleaning each other off. It was —

Hold on. Where was his chain?

Jonathan’s arms were around your waist, but you couldn’t feel the metal. You looked to the hook on the wall and saw that it had broken off, next to it the psychology book you gave to him, heavily dented. 

Chasting yourself, you felt Jonathan tighten his grip around your body. You should have checked — you should have checked for the chain like you did every time you came down. What was wrong with you? This one simple mistake could ruin everything . . . 

Trying to think as quickly as you could, you looked around the room for the other book, but couldn’t find it anywhere. You had a sedative syringe in your pocket, but you couldn’t get to it without alerting him. Alas, you finally felt something poking you in the side, something sharp like an edge, and within seconds you had been tossed to the floor and hit over the head.

+++

When you finally woke up, your head was reeling. You had a massive headache, and everytime you tried to sit up your vision would go a little dark and you would give up. Before you could try again, you had a hand against your throat. You felt a horrible surge of anger, and in the midst of your emotions, a slight sense of arousal.

“After everything I’ve done for you?” you cried out, voice choked. You could feel a shift in movement, because after Jonathan realized he was hurting you, he loosened his grip, but it still wasn’t enough to get out of his grasp. He probably tried to open the basement door but couldn’t, so waited until you came to give him the passcode. You couldn’t rely on the hope that he wouldn’t hurt you. He was desperate. But so were you.

“Everything you’ve done,” he repeated with a low murmur. “You know how humiliating it is to be trapped in a basement for a month, forced to bathe in front of you because I can’t even be trusted with a flow of water? Have to piss with chains on? I’m a doctor, I shouldn’t have to submit to your delusion.”

“You should and you will!” you screeched, squirming. “You finally have someone to love you, to adore you, someone who would do anything for you, and it’s still not enough. Or you know what? Maybe you like that. Being sad all the time, not having anyone to care for you. Probably used to it, huh? Distant parents, bitch grandmother, no friends, no lovers . . .”

Jonathan tossed you to the floor and pinned you down, his nose close to yours, breathing heavy, eyes a little glossy. Then, without warning, he slapped you. The sting was both painful and pleasurable. The little whimper you let out was more of a light sigh, but you didn’t let that distract you. All you needed to do was reach into your pocket for the syringe, which he clearly hadn’t noticed was there. If you could drug him just a little, you would be able to get your power back, your control.

“I want the code. That’s it.”

“I want a kiss.”

“Fuck you.”

“Just one kiss. A nice, long one.”

Jonathan thought for a moment. His breath tickled your skin. Then, he leaned in, his eyes fluttering shut, and brushed his perfect, pink lips against yours. He was so easily manipulated, so eager. Even when he had all the power, he still fell for your little antic. Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to kiss you.

While he was distracted, you swiftly took the syringe out and stabbed him with it, pushing half the liquid in. He pulled away and gasped, but then his eyes started drooping, and his movements became more wobbly, and he fell into your arms, disorientated and dizzy.

“Mm . . . what did you do?” he asked. 

You grabbed his hair, making him wince in pain. “You know, I’ve been trying so hard to be patient, not rushing you, making you feel as safe as possible” You paused. “But sometimes people aren’t grateful for what they have. That’s okay, it happens. You just have to learn. I’ll be patient again, just for you.”

You laid him on his back and started unbuckling his pants belt. He tried to stop you, but his movements were too weak and groggy.

“Don’t — don’t,” he pleaded.

You stopped, but only for the time being. You lifted him up onto his feet and let him lean against you. His feet were dragging a little against the floor, but he managed to walk. He pulled himself away from you when you made it to the top of the stairs but stumbled. He just wasn’t strong enough. You unlocked the passcode.

You led him over to the bathroom on your first floor, where you opened the tub’s tap and let the water flow. Jonathan’s eyelids drooped slightly, but you could see — smell — the fear in them. He knew what you were going to do, and he was helpless to stop it. 

Taking off the rest of his belt, you pulled his cock out. White, soft, a little big, but other than that it was perfect, just like every other part of him. You brushed your finger across it, watching the way it twitched in your hands. Unable to stop yourself, you leaned down and gave the head a small kiss, but that was the last bit of kindness Jonathan was going to receive today. In fact, receive for a long while.

You dipped your hand in the tub, which was steadily flowing with water, and gave his cock a hard squeeze, making him whimper in pain. “That’s the closest to lube you’ll get,” you said. “Now come on, don’t fight me. Dip your face in.”

Pushing his head down into the tub wasn’t much of a struggle, but Jonathan wasn’t making it easy. Your doll, your poor doll. He didn’t want to be hurt, but that was what had to happen. And it would keep happening until he finally admitted that he loved you. 

When Jonathan’s nose touched the water, he groaned, his head dizzy. It was cold, but by the time he could even register the temperature, his entire head was in, held by your hand as your other stroked his cock. A few air bubbles came up, but you didn’t give in. You wanted him to struggle, you wanted him to be in pain. He was like a fragile mouse caught in a trap. Only you could let him go. Only you had the power to.

After a few more seconds, you lifted his head up, watching with glee as he gasped for air, coughing and sputtering when he could spare it. 

“Aw, baby boy. You don’t like that very much, do you?”

He shook his head, opening his mouth to speak, but you didn’t let him. You just shoved him down into the tub again, feeling your body tingle. You swiped your finger over that little hole where you would soon force cum to shoot out of, and pressed down on it hard. Then, you found your way to his balls, slightly pulling at the small hairs there. Pinching and squeezing. His thighs shook, so you slapped them. They were another beautiful part of his body.

You continued pumping, up and down, steadily, then pulled him out. You could feel some pre-cum on your hands . . . even when you were torturing him he couldn’t control his biological reactions.

When he came up for the second time, he begged, “Please — I’m sorry, I’m sorry . . . Mercy, I can’t!”

His hair was wet, sticking to his forehead, and water was running down from his chin to his chest underneath the plain white shirt you had given him. His nipples were perked, probably from all the adrenaline, but you liked to think that it was because he was aroused. 

“You can and you will,” you growled. “Take it. Take it!”

+++

When you were finished with him, you took him back down to the basement, his cock hanging limp through the zipper area of his pants, and tossed him to the floor. Noticing one of the books you gifted him on the ground, you picked it up and threw it at him. It hit his leg, and within seconds, he passed out. 

You locked the door and left him like that for the next few days. No food, no water, no nothing. Through the camera you could see that he was barely moving. He only got up to use the toilet, but other than that, he was like a slug. It was on the third day that you decided to go down again and nourish him, otherwise he might die, and you didn't want that, not after all this hard work. 

ii.

Jonathan Crane was respected throughout the city of Gotham, a known and reputable psychiatrist amongst others in his field, as well as connected with higher elites who often funded his projects, his small passions. Never did he think he would ever end up in someone’s basement, that too the basement of a beauty. 

He had gotten into a car accident while pulling out of Akrham’s parking lot. It was a stupid mistake, not even his fault, really. The curb was so narrow and it was difficult to see past the line of trees whether another car was coming or not, and in his rush to get home, he went ahead without thinking and collided with a red Sedan.

No one was injured, but his car was beat up, and after getting it towed, he had to walk all the way to the nearest bus station (which was very far away, as the aslyum was rather secluded). It was cold, and he wasn’t dressed for this weather at all. He tried to take his mind off the temperature by looking at his watch, the tick-tick ticking, but when he finally got there, he found that the bus was not coming at all. It had been fifteen minutes, and nothing was there. The entire street was surprisingly empty for a city as busy as Gotham, with only the occasional patrol car driving past.

He was about ready to head to the subway — another long trek — when he saw someone else standing across the street. It was a woman, he could tell from the figure, but she was shrouded in darkness . . . Maybe she was waiting for the bus as well.

“Hey, excuse me, ma’am!” he shouted out, hoping not to startle her. He knew how women could get, all scared and skittish when they were alone. He understood. Crime rates were high, rape and theft were common. Even he was on his guard right now. 

“Yes?” the woman answered hesitantly. 

“Do you know when the bus will arrive?” Jonathan asked. “I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes — the sign said it would arrive at seven.”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I’m waiting for it as well. Do you mind if I cross?”

Jonathan hadn’t expected that, but agreed nonetheless. He found it a bit odd that she was waiting on the other side of the road, but figured that she might have only just arrived. When she crossed, the light of the street lamps hit her face and he was taken aback. She was awfully pretty — beautiful, in fact. She was looking at him with almost dazed eyes, a nervous expression upon her face. He couldn’t tell if she found him attractive, or if she was intimidated by him. Most people were. 

They had a short conversation that eventually ended. Jonathan would head down to the subway station, and the woman had opted to call her friend to pick her up. He was a little disappointed. She seemed interesting, and there was no harm in continuing their conversation, but he was also tired and in no mood to convince her to come along with him. 

He was about to leave when she asked him for his name. “Jonathan. Dr. Jonathan Crane,” he clarified.

“Jonathan,” she repeated. For a moment, he felt ill at ease. Maybe it was the reminder that he was in the middle of an empty street at night, or the way she looked at him as she repeated his name. He shook it off, he was just being silly. 

The woman gave him her name — your name, a nice name. He didn’t know what it was about you, but for the rest of the day you were on his mind. It was enough to make him mention you in his journal, mention with a flow of compliments that ranged from beautiful to almost sinister.

+++

Jonathan had always had a bit of a problem when it came to people. As a child he was ostracized and bullied for his gangly body, and in his adulthood, he had always come off as too unnerving for others. It probably didn’t help that he was arrogant and assuming, too. When it came to lovers, he could get quite obsessive, a problem that broke most of his relationships. Apparently no one liked it when their boyfriends were possessive.

He’d had a few affairs before, but nothing ever serious. He could never find someone he liked enough to marry. On the surface, he semed like the kind of guy that was more interested in his work than anything romantic, but in the end he had been raised with typical values, and as much as he tried to shake it off, he really felt like his path in life was to work, marry, have children, and then die.

When he was a kid his grandmother, Keeny, stressed upon him the importance of finding a good Christian wife. She must be a virgin, submissive, good-natured, and so on. He was sure she had already picked someone from their small town for him, because she was oddly pushy towards this one Church girl who liked to have ribbons in her braids (that was all he really remembered of her). Jonathan wondered what his grandmother thought of him now. Despite all the bad memories associated with her, he still sent letters with money every once in a while. She responded sometimes, mostly with pleas for him to come back, but he never paid them any mind. He was done with her and Georgia. 

In his mind, his ideal wife would be an intellectual just like him. Preferably smart, but not as smart as him, who was just as clingy as he was, who understood and could care for him, and who was perhaps a little more on the dominant side. He was always embarrassed with the fact that he liked dominant women, but wasn’t going to let that stop him from finding one, or at least, hoping one would find him.

“So, you’re opening yourself up to new relationships,” his therapist, Dr. Taylor Smith said, an encouraging smile on her face. Jonathan had been with her for years, and while they were strictly professional, Jonathan couldn’t help but be slightly attached to her. It was what happened when someone gave him even the slightest ounce of affection.

“I suppose so,” Jonathan responded, not knowing what else to say.

“If you’re ready for it, I think you should go out and start talking to people,” Smith suggested. “You have a lot of colleagues, you could start there.”

Jonathan frowned. “They’ve stopped asking me to lunches.”

“Because you decline all the time?”

“Probably.”

“Then why don’t you ask them first?”

Jonathan frowned again. “I’d rather not.”

Smith gave a knowing look. “And how do you suppose to meet people, then?”

Jonathan didn’t want to answer. He knew he was being silly, but he just didn’t want to be the one to make the first move. Eventually someone would come along and ask him out, right? He just had to wait a little . . . Perhaps he could loiter around some bookstores or near the lectures he attended so he could meet a woman who was like-minded.

“Look,” Smith said, intertwining her hands. “Before we meet again next week, I want you to have made an effort towards a relationship. Friendship would be a good start.”

“I have friends. Harleen is — fine,” Jonathan relented, after seeing the glare his therapist was giving. “I’ll do that. It’ll be my homework,” he joked, but on the inside he was thoroughly annoyed.

+++

Jonathan’s first idea was to go to a coffee shop. He had been starved for some caffeine and decided that instead of making one at home he could go out and get one. He parked his car in a nearby garage and walked over to a local shop. It had a long line of impatient-looking people, moody, too, at that.

He took his place in line, inhaling the sweet aroma of the atmosphere. A few people were working, typing away at their laptops, while others were with their friends or family or partners. He tried to look as casual as possible, sweeping his hair over his forehead every once in a while, but then he stopped, feeling stupid.

He felt like a kid back in highschool trying to get a girl’s attention. Everyone here was either already with someone or rushing to get out. It was a dumb idea. He’d just get his coffee and leave.

Maybe he could just ask his coworkers at the asylum. They were nice enough, and it would probably do good on his work relationships if he made an effort on them.

When he got to the counter he ordered a small latte and went on his way, but after turning the corner he bumped into someone. They were holding a cup of coffee — from the same cafe he just went to. The cap, which must not have been applied properly, fell to the ground, and all the hot, brown liquid splashed onto both him and . . . and . . . the lady from the bus station?

Jonathan hissed at the burning sensation, but restrained himself from letting out a small scream. A few people stopped and turned to look at them. A few of them in pity, others stifling their giggles, while one man offered to go get some napkins.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” the woman — you — said, grabbing some napkins from the man and wiping your blouse off.

Jonathan glared.

“What is wrong with you?” he sneered, his face contorted in controlled disgust. “Are you stalking me?”

“What? I don’t — look, I’m really sorry, sir,” you fervently apologized, which made Jonathan feel a bit bad. “Here — some napkins — ”

“ — Don’t bother,” Jonathan said, looking down at his suit, though his tone was a bit softer. 

There was a moment of silence. Jonathan admired your features for those few moments, and thought back to how he wrote about you in his journal. His cheeks flushed a light pink at the memory. Imagine what would happen if you found out . . .

“Aren’t you going to say sorry, too?”

Jonathan sighed, getting annoyed again. “I’m sorry,” but it was sarcastic. 

“I want to hear a genuine apology,” you said, but before Jonathan could say anything, you continued, “That or . . . you buy me another cup of coffee and we go our separate ways.”

Jonathan was caught off guard, but he realized that it was the perfect opportunity to do what he came here for: make a friend. And she was so obviously flirting. 

“Alright. But we’ll be quick. I have to change.”

You chuckled. “Okay, okay.”

You both walked back to the coffee shop, standing in line as you looked over the menu. Jonathan wondered what to say.

“It’s quite the coincidence, don’t you think?” he said, feeling sticky as his dress shirt stuck to his skin. “We meet at the bus station, then here . . .”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused.

Jonathan couldn’t believe that you didn’t remember. “I introduced myself to you. Dr. Jonathan Crane. And you told me your name.”

You thought for a moment, eyes dazed for a few seconds, but when you looked back at him you shook your head. “I-I suppose you look familiar, but I don’t really remember . . . I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that’s alright.”

Eventually, you both got up to the front. You ordered another coffee and Jonathan paid with his card. This time, he made sure your lid was secured on properly. When he got out of the cafe for the second time that day, he felt disappointed that he had to leave you again.

At the bus station he had let you go, and was he about to do the same thing here? No. He would try, shoot his chance. If it didn't work, so what? He would get over it.

“I can walk you back to your car,” Jonathan offered, taking a sip of his coffee, which thankfully he didn’t drop when he bumped into you. 

“I don’t want to bother you,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s all the way down the road.”

“I insist,” he said. 

You smiled. It was such a sweet smile, Jonathan wished he could igraine the memory into his mind forever. 

“What do you do for work?” he asked, trying to make light conversation.

“Real estate,” you responded. “You?”

“I’m a psychiatrist . . .”

He didn’t mention the fact that he worked at Arkham. It was infamous in Gotham, and not that great of a conversation starter. Jonathan didn’t want this to turn into an interview about what it’s like to work there, how the patients were, and so on.

When you and Jonathan reached your car, he felt that odd sense of dread again. He was near a closed-off area behind a shop. It was one of those places that had parking lots for behind a store, and was shaped almost like a square. The shop was closed, and there was only one car in the area — presumably yours.

“Sorry,” you apologized with a laugh after seeing the look on his face. “There was no parking nearby. I’m actually kind of glad you walked me . . . it’s a little scary all by myself.”

“It’s fine. I understand,” Jonathan said with a shrug, ignoring his instincts. He walked you to the car, and before he knew what was happening, he was knocked out. 

+++

The chains clinked against the others in the link, the cuffs tugging against Jonathan Crane’s skin, pulled so hard it restricted the blood flow. It was only then he stopped, and let a defeated sigh escape his lips. His head leaned against the wall and his posture slumped. Since he woke up he had been trying to get out of this place — out of this basement, it looked to be. His thoughts flooded his head a million times, and it was impossible for him to produce a semblance of coherent thinking. He begged his brain to stop working, to just be quiet for a moment so he could control his emotions and focus, but it wouldn’t. It left him tired and confused and scared.

What happened to me?

Why am I here?

Was that woman responsible for this? Did she kidnap me? Oh god, she kidnapped me.

What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?

People are going to notice I’m missing. The police will come for me, I’ll be fine.

No they won’t. It’s Gotham, no one will do anything about it.

Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut. Stop it. Stop thinking.

After a while, he got his thoughts to quiet, but before he could be rational, the padlock clicked and the door opened. He backed into a corner — well, as far as his binding would let him, and his suspicions were confirmed.

It was you. You were his captor. His doom.

You placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of him. Cinnamon and honey filled the air. It had little pieces of apple cut up, and even some chocolate chips on the side. It was absolutely heavenly, and Jonathan could feel his mouth water at just the sight of it. He restrained himself, however. He was not that hungry, at least not yet, and he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t poisioned. 

“I’m not eating that.”

Frowning, you bent down to his level. “It's not poisoned, you know that.”

Jonathan did know that. He was smart enough to realize that a person wouldn’t go through all the effort of bringing him here, only to poison him. 

“Are you in love with me?” he asked next.

“Why do you ask?” you said instead. Avoiding the question.

“Your eyes are always dilated, you can’t keep them off of me. Not at the bus station, the coffee shop.” He paused. “You’re sick. I’m not in love with you. Whatever fantasy you have is not real.”

“You may not be in love with me now, but you will be soon.”

Was it wrong that for a moment Jonathan felt nice? In all his life, he never had someone care for him, but here, someone had gone through the effort of kidnapping him just to be with him. He felt stupid for thinking like that. This wasn’t some story, it was reality, and in reality, you didn’t actually love him. You were obsessed. Obsessed . . . Was he that incapable of being loved that people had to either hate him or obsess over him like an object? Was there no in-between? 

There were a few more words exchanged. You brushed your fingers against his skin, and though he pulled away, he couldn’t deny the affection rising within him. No one had ever touched him this gently before, this kindly.

You left, leaving Jonathan alone in the cold, dark room. After a few moments of hesitation, he reached for the bowl, and began eating.

+++

A few weeks had passed by. Jonathan couldn’t tell if the weather outside had begun to turn warm, or if it was still as cold as the last time he saw it. He never knew what time it was unless you came down with food, and even then, he was probably a couple of hours off. As he spent time in that basement, searching for a way out, he felt a sense of desperate hopelessness creep onto him. Would he ever make it out alive?

He couldn’t believe that he was even in this situation. After insulting you and calling you names, he resorted to fervent begging, but even that wasn’t enough to make you let him go. In your delusion you had made his life a misery. He couldn’t keep living in your basement like some sort of pet, forced to bathe in front of you and constantly monitored by cameras.

Maybe Jonathan would have liked you better if you actually gave him a nice room to sleep in. Or if you made something other than acai bowls and fruit smoothies all the time.

He could see it in your eyes that you truly believed you loved him, and it made him feel scared. While he overviewed cases like this and met people with the same mentality to kidnap and stalk, he still didn’t know what to do. In a part of his brain, he thought that maybe you weren’t so bad and that you could have been torturing him right now, but instead was being kind and thoughtful. 

You tried to apply cream to his bruised wrists, and you didn’t even scold him for trying to get out of the handcuffs. He made it a difficult process, but it was because he was afraid. He had never been touched like that before. You were making him feel all sorts of things — anger, confusion, fear. 

It didn’t help when you brought down a present for him. A book on chemistry, and another on psychology. It was wrapped in a box, which was wrapped in a light-blue color. Why were you so sweet? In all his years, he had never gotten a present as meaningful as this. His heart had wrenched uncomfortably, and he had to remind himself who you were, what type of person you were.

Maybe if he used this book to hit you over the head with, it would knock you out and he could escape. He could use it to break the chains, too. They were hardcover, and th

———

(I stopped writing here.)

The rest of this section was just going to be through Jonathan’s perspective.

iii.

You opened the door hesitantly, a wave of guilt flooding your body. Jonathan lay there on the floor, beaten and bruised, shivering in a corner even though he had a blanket around him. He didn’t smell good, but you expected it to be worse, so you took it as a sign that things could still be salvaged.

———

(I stopped writing here).

Jonathan is passed out, barely able to move. For the next few days, you nurse him back to health. You clean him, feed him, and give him better clothing. He doesn’t fight back. Slowly, he starts to accept his new environment and you upgrade him to a guest bedroom, but you still lock the doors and windows so he can’t escape.

The police officer comes back to flirt. You’re annoyed, but you know you need him for info. The police officer starts to get suspicious, and out of fear he’ll do something, you murder him. The murder is sort of the climax of the story.

After that whole ordeal, Jonathan has been completely conditioned by you, but the ending is open-ended. “The Doll’s Burial” is meant to represent a burial of his true self, replaced by a version you created, or, his actual death. It depends on you — do you get bored of him, is it truly an obsession? Or do you truly love him, and are willing to spend your whole life as his wife?

Tagging in case ya'll are still interested: @shroombloom-rry @madnessandobsession @henrywintersdearestgirl @hllywdwhre @your-nanas-house @ellebelleshelby @Meetmeatyourworst @hanawrites404 @Emimurphy2008

@nela-cutie

@slut4thebroken

@wild-rose-35

@madeinuk

@flwrs4aust

@httpxgray

[ruggiezz]

— CHRISTMAS SPIRIT : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] they couldn’t go back home for the holidays, so how do they spend them with you?

[characters] ace, riddle, kalim, vil, malleus

[content warnings] food is mentioned

★﹕ACE TRAPPOLA — building a snowman

The streets were decorated with colorful lights, lamp posts had ribbons wrapped around them, and kids were running around playing with the snow. You could tell it was Christmas season from a mile away just by looking at the huge Christmas tree that decorated the park.

Even if it was around 7 pm, the streets were full of people shopping at the last hour. The windows of the stores were all advertising discounts to get more sales, from expensive items to affordable ones. 

Ace had already bought your gift weeks ago. It was something you mentioned you wanted once, you probably had forgotten about it, but he had saved for months just to see the smile on your face when you opened it.

While walking to a cafe Cater recommended, you saw some kids making a snowman together in a nearby park while their parents chatted while sitting on a bench. Grabbing Ace's hand, you rushed to a spot in the park and rolled some snow to make the body. He protested at first but he got to work almost immediately.

Helping you decorate it was the fun part. He collected some pebbles while you continued molding it. As he decorated the face so it would look like it was frowning, he laughed at you for protesting about the facial expression. Ace said it was ‘the best snowman in the park’ and that you both ‘won against those kids’. You grabbed your scarf and wrapped it around the snowman, claiming it was so it wouldn't 'feel cold'.

Sadly, you forgot the weather was below 0°; but before you could even say something or complain, you felt Ace wrapping his red scarf carefully around your neck.

“Sheesh, I’m your boyfriend, and you’re favoring a snowman over me. I'm going to freeze now, you know? …I'm just teasing, let's go or we won't find any tables available.”

★﹕RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS — decorating a gingerbread house

Usually, Sam makes Christmas sales in the Mystery shop around December, but this year it made a huge fuss because of the new items he added. The students that stayed in school grounds were buying almost everything, so you thought you could check it out. 

All the items were eye-catching, but a particular gingerbread house set stood out the most. It was selling fast, and you wanted one, so why wouldn't you buy one to decorate with your boyfriend?

Riddle couldn't say he was surprised when you showed up in his room with a box of frosting sleeves and gingerbread walls. A few Heartslabyul students who stayed too bought some sets and decorated them in the common areas (and that got them collared, which made them have to go to their own rooms or the cafeteria tables). He thought about it and decided to give it a try, since he wanted to spend time with you and he already finished his book of crosswords.

His side of the gingerbread house looks neat, exactly like a model a company would use in an advertisement, following the instructions carefully paid off. Your side looks slightly messy, with the frosting dripping on the sides and some of the candy falling off. The best way to describe it would be like an earthquake happened, and it only affected half the house. But Riddle still liked it; he could see the effort you put into it; you could even say he felt fond of it.

Riddle had a lot of fun decorating and spending time with you. You handed him the colorful chocolate candy package as he gave the final touches on the ceiling.

It wasn't the perfect house, but it was one made by the both of you.

“It isn’t tidy or neat, yet it has a certain charm to it... Don't put frosting on my face!”

★﹕KALIM AL-ASIM — singing christmas carols

He really likes spoiling you, and you could tell that he was planning something big due to how big his grin had been since December started.

Kalim promised to walk you to Ramshackle after the end of your classes, promising to spend the rest of the day with you. He even finished his homework for the end of the break early so Jamil couldn't object!

The second the bell that indicated the start of winter break rings, Kalim rushes out of the classroom, going straight to the stairs so he could go meet you on another floor. Jamil had to yell at him from a distance to not walk too quickly or he would slip and fall off the stairs. Kalim looks like an excited puppy waiting for you in the hallway, wanting to receive that kiss you always give him as s greeting, it's the best part of his day.

He grabs your hand and starts walking to Ramshackle, excitedly telling you about his plans for the both of you for the winter break, talking about the gifts he will send to his siblings, and about the meal you can both have on the 25th. When the both of you run out of conversation topics, Kalim just hums the melody of a carol, swinging the arm, holding your hand back and forth, and walking as quick as he could.

Kalim looks back at you, giving you the brightest smile he can physically make, and asks you to sing along with him. He'll teach you the lyrics. Or maybe, if you want to, you can both sing carols from your world.

He's just a big fan of carols; he even tells you about how Jamil and he sang them together every Christmas when they were kids. He would love the idea of being able to sing with you together; he wants to know more about you and the traditions in your world.

“Come on, let’s sing together! We can be like a duo; it’ll be so much fun!”

★﹕VIL SCHOENHEIT — watching christmas movies

As soon as he found out you were staying at the school grounds during the holidays, he invited you to stay in Pomefiore. Vil can't have you getting sick or getting your skin dry; the coldness of the environment wasn't good for anyone's skin.

Vil arranged a room for you with all the necessary things you could need, even preparing a set of expensive pajamas he bought for you as an early gift, yet you still sneaked at night to sleep in his bed. It's not like he was complaining; it helped him sleep better at night. You are made to go to sleep early anyway, sleeping is important to maintain your natural beauty.

The second day you opened in your laptop the huge catalog of the (expensive) streaming service you bought especially for the holidays. You asked Vil to watch some Christmas movies with you and he agreed. He knew you weren't familiar with this world's iconic movies, so he would act as your guide.

The both of you made it a habit to sit in his bed a few hours before bedtime and watch some Christmas movies. You played a movie he recommended or that caught your eye, got comfortable, laid your head on his shoulder, and he got to speak about his thoughts on the actor's performance. This was the routine you both followed every day. But one particular movie caught your eye—one he starred in months before entering NRC.

It was good; it was a rom-com where he starred as a side character. You found yourself watching it multiple times, even in his absence. It was a movie with a good plot, your boyfriend starred in it, and he got to talk about the behind the scenes. It was a win-win.

“Did you enjoy my performance, hm? My acting is always on point; expect nothing but the best from me.”

★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA — sharing hot chocolate

Since Malleus stayed behind because he wanted to spend the holidays with you, that meant the rest of the Diasomnia family did too, so they were all invited to a Christmas sleepover at Ramshackle. And he could never decline an invitation, especially from you.

Sebek was delighted to drink something sweet, just like Grim, who was happy to be able to eat whatever he wanted. Lilia was reminiscing over old memories of when they were younger, like a proud father would, and Silver was listening and adding more to what Lilia was saying.

There was something comforting about the heat coming from the mug he was holding and the sweater you bought specially for him. Malleus has never been sensitive to the cold weather, but the warmth he felt in his heart seeing how well you got along with important people in his life was more than welcomed. It was simple—nothing like the fancy celebrations at his castle back home—just the six of you spending time together while chatting about anything.

It wasn't a foreign feeling; he often felt this way around you, but he could never get enough of it. He smiled at you as you refilled Sebek's mug, who was discussing with Silver about their childhood memories, while you listened intently, clearly interested. Lilia noticed Malleus staring at you and teased him about it, but Malleus only smiled proudly at him and kept drinking from his mug; some of the marshmallows you added to his cup sinking to the bottom.

If any other student witnessed it, they would be speechless over how Malleus Draconia, the scary prince nobody wants to anger, was so content drinking hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows in a snowman mug. But they would be even more speechless if they saw the tender way he looked at you.

“This night has been nothing but delightful; you surprise me more and more every day. I want nothing more than to make more memories like this with you.”