#and treated like a human being.... i feel like i can breathe for once

[plaguewormart]

Once again thinking about Vincent as pope…

Vincent hating the attention he’s given for doing simple things such as carrying his own bags, knowing the Swiss guards names, hugging children when they run up to him. Vincent despising how every human thing he does immediately becomes a headline: “Pope listening to music!” (He was wearing headphones and listening to some old favorites while hanging out with the turtles) “Innocent XIV goes shopping!” (He forgot to bring a book to the airport and just wanted to buy something to read on the plane) “The pope wears converse!” (He’d owned the same pair of shoes for three years, and he’d stitched them up himself after the fabric tore)

Vincent feeling more isolated than ever. Despite never being alone, there is not a single person who treats him as a person. He’s constantly watched, yet never invited into casual conversations, no one asks him to join them for coffee, no one rants about their boring work or tells him about their favorite books or talks about the weather.

Vincent waking up in a cold sweat most nights. Dreams of war haunting his sleep, the faces of the dead burned into his mind. He wakes up gasping for air, or screaming, or running to the bathroom to throw up.

Vincent sleeping on the floor more often than the bed. Vincent flinching at loud noises and always scanning the room for threats and ways to escape.

Vincent having flashbacks and panic attacks on the floor of his bathroom, not being able to call anyone for help because he’s the pope, he’s not allowed to fall apart or ask for help or take a break.

Vincent who cannot handle being snuck up on from behind, who can’t have meat that isn’t well done, Vincent who hides his shaking hands behind his back as he speaks about the saints who were stoned to death, because he knows what that looks like.

Vincent who once gets so startled by the bang of a bible being dropped onto the floor of St Peter’s cathedral while he’s holding mass that he instinctively ducks behind the altar, covering his head, sure that he’s back in the war. Vincent who has to continue his sermon with shaking hands and voice, with his normally so present and kind eyes suddenly showing a far-away look. And Vincent who has to read the headlines afterwards, despite Aldo doing his best to shield him.

I also think about Thomas.

Thomas who tries to joke with Vincent about how the masses have never seen a pope young enough to have the strength to carry his own bags, Thomas who reminds him that even though he is the pope, he’s still human.

Thomas who, despite this, is unable to call him Vincent. Thomas who has always seen the papacy as closest to the God he has such a hard time reaching, and Thomas who no longer sees Vincent when he looks at the pope.

Thomas who tries to comfort Vincent, but keeps calling him Your Holiness, and watching as Vincent pulls away more and more.

Thomas who once entered Vincent’s room at night to leave him an urgent document, and found the pope curled up on the floor.

Thomas who always sees when Vincent’s hands start to shake, who can sense Vincent’s breathing quicken and his eyes start searching for escape routes. Thomas who can’t do anything to help, because the pope cannot be seen having to be escorted away because of anxiety.

Thomas who tries to learn what triggers Vincent, Thomas who takes notes on what makes the pope flinch or shake or hide away. Thomas who discreetly informs the rest of the staff closest to Vincent about how important it is to never sneak up on him from behind, or serve him anything resembling torn off flesh.

Thomas who finally sees how Vincent is actually doing once the incident at mass happens. Thomas who argues with everyone to try to allow Vincent to end mass early, but failing. Thomas who sends the altar boys and deacons away from the sacristy once mass is over and finally greets the pope by his original name.

Thomas who opens his arms and his heart as he sees the shaking man in front of him. “Oh my dear Vincent” he says, and his heart breaks as Vincent falls into his arms and sobs.

Thomas who holds him tightly, whispering apologies for letting this continue, who promises to be better. Thomas who helps Vincent change out of his sweat soaked vestments, and who lets Vincent explain the horrors he’s seen.

I also think about Aldo

Aldo who’s in the background of it all. Who sees how the new pope seems to be getting even thinner than he was. Aldo who tries his best to minimize Vincent’s amount of paperwork on the days where the pope arrives to breakfast at 5 am with bloodshot eyes and holding his mug of tea with trembling hands.

Aldo who more than once has held up Vincent’s hair as he throws up after stressful meetings with world leaders who are decimating entire populations. Aldo who sometimes pretends not to see invites from some of the dictators he knows Vincent hates the most.

Aldo who tries his best to keep the news away from Vincent whenever he’s in the headlines. Aldo who brings Vincent hot chocolate whenever he knows an article will have upset him.

Aldo who always remembers to make his steps louder or clear his throat if he’s walking up to the pope from behind. Who will always make sure there is a vegetarian option that won’t remind the pope of wounded and dead bodies.

Aldo who every so often sees the pope’s eyes flicker to the side, and knows it means Vincent is quietly suppressing the most horrible flashbacks, even with a smile on his face. And Aldo who always makes sure he has an excuse ready to get Vincent out of situations when it happens.

Aldo who tries his very very best to make Thomas realise that Vincent needs him.

Aldo who feels a weight leave his heart once he sees Thomas leading a shaking Vincent through the halls of the Santa Martha, and who smiles when they both enter the Homy Father’s room.

[scribblestatic]

Shen Yuan is, of course, a sweetheart of a cat that is totally, entirely, wasted on that acerbic Peak Lord who named him.

That is, of course, until a demon attack on the sect includes the use of True Heart Vial Rose and shows exactly what Shen Yuan is thinking.

Which happens to be rampant and increasingly creative expletives as he hisses, batting fiercely at the downed demon.

"Fuck your mother!" the cat yeowls, scratching at the demon's eyes. "You dogshit, peh! Curse your family! Your ancestors and descendants should feel shame having you in their bloodline!"

He quickly changes gears as he runs over to Shen Qingqiu, rubbing against his legs. "Jiu-ge, Jiu-ge~ That thing is filthy! Hurry and salt this wretched corpse lest it spreads some sort of miasma!"

Shen Qingqiu is, of course, more than a little pleased to do exactly that.

Shen Yuan, it seems, is utterly unaware of the fact his thoughts are understood. It doesn't help that he doesn't actually understand much of human speech (yet), so even if he's understood, he can't do the same for them. And that means he's very honest about whatever he thinks at all times.

"Is this supposed to be a gift? It's crude. It's bloody. It's exactly the kind of thing that dogfight Bai Zhan Peak would consider a prized possession. Its liver should be impeccable for qi restoration, and its bones, once in a fine powder, can help heal meridians. It's a good gift. Jiu-ge should take it." It's that commentary over the large corpse sitting outside the bamboo house that A) helps Shen Qingqiu realize it's not a threat and B) realize who it came from.

Also, apparently the cat has some sort of instinctual knowledge of beasts like itself. How curious.

"Going out of their way to misunderstand. Hmmh. Don't mind them, Jiu-ge. They aren't worth the effort. A waste of space and breath, they are."

The Peak Lord can't help a little laugh as he agrees, watching the cultivators accosting him turned red in the face at being dismissed by a cat.

"Aiyah, what am I going to do with you..." He purrs softly as he helps Shen Qingqiu calm from another, increasingly infrequent qi deviation. "You can't keep getting hurt like this. If you can't stop, I guess this Yuan will have to watch over you for as long as I live."

If Shen Qingqiu starts looking into how to help a cat become a spiritual beast after that, well, that's no one else's business.

"Jiu-ge cultivated demonically first. Of course cultivating the spiritual way only will cause an imbalance! Qi is qi, none is good or evil on principle, just like people and demons. Jiu-ge should keep using demonic cultivation to balance his energies! Fuck Wu Yanzi, there's tons of demonic cultivators better than even those from 'righteous' sects!"

If Shen Qingqiu begins improving in leaps and bounds, well, that's also his own business.

By the time Luo Binghe arrives, Shen Qingqiu is much more settled in himself and doesn't bother spiting Liu Qingge by taking a promising, fluffy-looking child on the day to pick new disciples. Though, Shen Yuan starts trailing over to Bai Zhan to go stare at the child, and in turn, Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge end up spending more time around each other...gross.

"Aaa Jiu-ge, don't be so shy. You clearly brought that Thousand Silver Teardrop Tea to help Qingge-ge through his bottleneck. Why act like this, ah? You're so hopeless. I suppose this cat will have to keep you company forever. Haaah."

Well, there are times he mildly wished A'Yuan would shut up. But his thoughts do end up getting the other peak lords to relax more around him.

Liu Qingge, having heard the cat's thoughts time after time, starts talking to Shen Qingqiu and treating him better. Repulsive. Do it more.

--

Anyway, I just thought this would be cute.

[ubeb0nes]

Getting jealous as Sevika's girlfriend…

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Look, we all know this lady gets around. Brothel or not, she's big and she's strong and she looks good. She's gonna be pretty experienced no matter when you meet her and get with her.

But once you two are together? Oh baby, there's nobody more devoted. Even if she doesn't say how much she cares, Sevika always shows you what type of person she is. And loyal, she definitely is.

Go ahead and try to ask her- pettily, childishly- if you're not the only pretty thing warming her bed. She'll shoot you a withering look as she tells you with all the unshakeable affection in her big, guarded heart, "I haven't even looked at any other woman since we got together, you ass."

A love confession as good as any!

In truth, you know you don't have to worry about Sevi's eyes straying. You know it in your heart. But you know that still doesn't stop others from looking, or even talking to her.

And sometimes all the present conditions just make it far too easy for your most unfounded insecurities to seem all too real. The way she can be so careful, so guarded about showing you affection in public has been a sensitive issue between you two for a while.

I HC that she's not the type to have you perched on her lap while she plays cards with the guys or anything like that. She's too protective, too possessive herself. Why should anybody get to see you all pretty like that?

But perhaps more importantly, she doesn't want to treat you the same way she treated her more… casual partners. Whether that may be right or wrong, it's how she makes a point of how different you are from her past flames. You're not just some pretty thing to prop up (although you are her pretty thing). You're the woman she's chosen, and that chose her back.

Obviously, it doesn't always translate that way. Sometimes, it just makes her seem cold. Again, whether it's right or wrong.

Maybe you were feeling extra sensitive that night, maybe she was being extra detached, but it was probably the most opportune time for outside forces to make it worse.

You're sitting at the bar chatting with Ran to try and take your mind off things when you see, out of the corner of your eye, some bitch sliding up next to your woman with a whiskey tumbler in hand.

Sevika doesn't even look up as she takes the offered drink. Your brain honestly shuts off then, ignorant to the way when a hand slides over her shoulders and she finally looks at the woman, Sevika jerks away like she'd been burned.

It happens so quickly, and you were already feeling like shit that particular night that you don't even go to confront. Ran had been ready to wrangle you back from killing someone, so she's surprised when you just… leave. You storm out of the bar, not hearing the "shit, doll, no…" that Sevika mutters under her breath as she stands to follow you.

The glare she gives the girl could win awards. "You better hope she tells me not to kill you," she growls, jutting a finger in the girl's face before leaving.

The guys she plays cards with every week swivel on the girl once Sevika leaves, throwing their cards up and bemoaning the "goddamn homewrecker!"

You hear her call your name almost immediately after you're out the door. "Baby, stop, you know that was-"

"I know that was what?" Sevika stops in her tracks when you swivel on her. Her eyes are wide, taken aback by how firm your voice is.

…Where'd you been hiding that lower register?

"It was a mistake, I thought it was you-" "You didn't even bother to look!" "Yeah, 'cause I thought you were bringing me a drink like you always do!"

She doesn't push back against you too hard because she knows it's her mistake, dumb and unintentional as the harm may be. She lets you yell, picks out the deeper hurt from your words and the why.

And when you're done, and the tears start to well up, that's when she closes the distance. She wraps her human arm around your shoulders, hiding your vulnerability with a subtle shrug of her cape halfway over you.

"Listen to me, woman." She cups your face with her human hand, smirking slightly at the surprised laugh you let out.

"You're the only fuckin' thing I see. Okay? The only damn one. That won't happen again."

Sevika didn't ever apologize, not really. But she did make promises that she never broke.

"…So do you want her dead?"

"Nah. I can't even blame her, I'd homewreck too if I didn't already have you."

"Ha! Your call, doll."

[yukioos]

Your writing is so good im eating up every little bit hsesuritvjhb

can I request a Katsuki x windquirk!reader? Hes tired and sweaty after training and comes into readers dorm to cool off with cuddles cuz shes basically a human fan thank you!

katsuki bakugo who relies on you to cool him off

treat it like it's the real thing. katsuki was always told that ever since he was a little boy. when he had to practice for sports events, his parents always advised him to play like he was really in the game. when he studied and did quizzes in school, he did his best to get all of them right. this wasn’t any different from training.

he always tried his hardest, and especially harder when he was against eijiro, who he considered to be one of the strongest in the class. while training, he and eijiro were one of the pairs that were the most entertaining to watch. it always ended in both of them being covered in sweat and many scratches, bruises, and cuts.

this time, after a couple of rounds of trying to push each other out of a large boxed arena, katsuki finally won. eijiro applauded him and placed a hand on his sweat-soaked shoulder, making him immediately pull his hand back.

“thanks for training with me, bakugo!” eijiro thanked, showing off his shiny, sharp teeth with a wide grin.

the blonde rolled his eyes and attempted to hold back a smile, “yeah, whatever.” he paused, then thought for a moment. damn, he needed to see you, he was soaked in sweat and felt like the sun was burning him a hundred times over. he looked at the ground, and his lip turned into a shy smile.

a knowing grin stretched across eijiro’s face, he tilted his head and crossed his arms. he knew that look. “thinking about your girl again?”

katsuki’s eyes widened, then quickly glared at his friend. when would he stop with all this teasing? before he opened his mouth, eijiro suggested, “i know you need her to cool you off, just go to her.”

the blonde rolled his eyes, he knew his friend was right. he gave him a small wave and jogged to your dorm, still panting on his way there. god, he was feeling too hot. too overwhelmed. how long has it been since he’s seen you last? two hours? that was clearly too long of a break, and he just wanted to be held in your arms again.

your door opened in the middle of nowhere, causing you to quickly and anxiously turn your head. the wind in your room was strong as papers and books began to fly all over the room. a heavy schoolbook quickly flew to the doorframe, but your boyfriend caught it, then shielded his eyes from the heavy wind.

once you realized it was him, you smiled and kicked your feet. as the wind began to become less intense, your hair spiked up, a sign that meant you were feeling extreme emotions. the blonde stood in the doorway before he walked in, quietly closed the door, made a short trip to your desk to place your schoolbook down, and then stripped himself of his black tank top.

“come here, kats!” you exclaimed, laying on your bed, back to your sheets as you held your arms out.

he didn’t say anything but quickly climbed into your bed, and wrapped his arms around your waist. a deep sigh came from his chest, and he immediately felt a wave of relief and coldness. you used your quirk to cool him off, and rubbed your hands against his bare back, making him feel more comfortable than ever.

katsuki kissed your neck and closed his eyes, not saying a single word. he must’ve been extremely tired if he didn’t have any complaints about training or anything to brag about.

but as soon as you were about to open your mouth, you noticed his breathing was even. all the sweat droplets on his body were gone, and his eyes were closed. it wasn’t too common for him to pass out immediately after training, but maybe he was especially emotional today.

he didn’t tell you that he fell asleep around you so easily because he felt safe around you. the way you were always so caring and excited to simply cool him down warmed his heart every time. he loved how as soon as you saw the slightest sign that he may have been overheated, you would place a hand on his bicep or forehead to cool him down.

not long after katsuki fell asleep, you also drifted into slumber, holding his cool body in your arms.

tysm for 900 followers! you guys are so amazing, and thank you for this request! it’s absolutely adorable, and i’m so thankful you love my writing!

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

I Can Feel It in My Bones

Synopsis: Being Invincible’s pet is cruel, but you manage to find comfort in it.

Pairing: Yandere!Sinister!Mark Grayson X Gn!Reader

Tw: 18+; Mentions and descriptions of mass murder (this is a version of Mark that joined Omni-man and the viltrumites); Mentions of kidnapping and being chained; Mentioned and implied dubcon/noncon; Implied Stockholm Syndrome; Hurt/little comfort; Mentions of threats; All characters aged up; English is my 2nd language.

Word count: 500

Requested? No.

Extra notes: I might write more about this, and other fanfics with Mark and Rex, love my babygirls

General masterlist

You have your own suite. Well, it's not exactly yours, it's Mark’s room, but he barely spends time there, since most of his time is spent destroying Earth and intimidating civilians, alongside Omni-man. Meanwhile, you're always chained to the foot of his bed, just enough freedom to go to the bathroom and wander through almost all the expanse of the room. You can't even reach the door, not that it would change anything, there’s no one around to help you, much less someone brave enough to go against Invincible’s wishes.

Omni-man and Invincible like to talk as if you aren't in the room, as if you're invisible. You know the former doesn't understand why his son keeps a pet since it's death will come before Mark can even look like a 30 year old human. You're the pet. But he shrugs it off when Mark reminds him that not everything is about work, and if he can do whatever he wants to humans, then he wants to have a pet.

Mark is cruel. He always reminds you that the only thing stopping him from harming and killing you is your pretty face. That you only get to eat because he likes your body healthy. That you only get to shower and brush your teeth because he wants to breathe in a nice smell when he’s close to you. That you're only kept in his room and not at one of the slave’s camps because he likes to fuck you.

And you know it. You know it in the way he sometimes doesn't allow you to wear clothes. In the way he doesn't treat you like a person, more like a playtoy or decoration. In the soreness left when he's done.

But sometimes, sometimes you get confused. Because he lays his head on your chest when he wants to take a nap or just feel comforted. Because he keeps you in his room when you know he could just throw you in a cell. Because once in a while he asks about your old interests, and gets excited about things you had in common. Because he gives you things to entertain yourself. Because sex with him is good even when it's not consensual. Because he has a pretty smile. Because he doesn't look like the sadistic dictator who destroyed your city and killed half the people you knew, when he takes his mask off.

You wonder if he still keeps this human side of him because he simply grew up like that and it's too ingrained in his personality, or because he misses his mom and his friends.

It doesn't matter in the end, you're doomed in and out of this room. You're only human, he's a viltrumite. He was made to be a conqueror. You're gonna die faster than he can blink. He's gonna find another pet. At least, you can have some comfort if you keep him happy.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

a/n: another kofi request!

Your deer hybrid lover had been rather antsy lately, not very keen on letting you leave after your weekly visit.

It was late December, Christmas had just come and gone and you’d come with treats and presents. He enjoyed your company more than anything, but the soft red scarf you knitted for him and sweet pastries you shared also made him incredibly happy.

But when you got ready to leave, he shook his head, reaching out to pull you close to him.

“No… please, don’t go. It’s not safe…”

His antlers lightly rubbed against your shoulder as he clung to you, his fluffy little tail twitching. He was sensing something you couldn’t, and you trusted his instincts enough to listen when he said something bad was about to happen.

“Alright, alright. How long do I have to stay?”

The deer hybrid looked away, his hood scraping the ground shyly.

“… all winter,” he murmured, his freckles cheeks a light pink. “Preferably.”

He was terrified of you being away from him, knowing the first big freeze was coming. It was a buck’s duty to make sure his doe stayed warm and safe during the winter, keeping you well fed and happy would make him feel like a good mate.

“All winter? But I have a job, I can’t-“

“P-please, just until this blizzard is over,” he pleaded, grabbing hold of your hand.

You let out a sigh, allowing him to guide you back into his cottage by the meadow. “Fine… but I’m leaving once the blizzard lets up.”

He let out a happy whine, curling up with you in bed as the winter’s first snow began to fall.

At first it was peaceful, watching the snowflakes dance in the wind, twirling about… but that’s when it began to come down harder.

Within minutes you could barely see out the window. All that was visible was a white blur, and now you understood that if you had attempted to walk home, you would have gotten stuck in a blizzard.

“You understand now,” he murmured, kissing at your cheek and jaw. “I just want to keep you safe with me. It’s dangerous during the winter…”

When the temperatures began to drop, your lover rubbed his hips against your plump ass, pushing his erection into you.

“I can keep you warm… if you’ll let me.”

He lifted your leg, letting you feel his bulge right on your clothed cunt. His deer legs were so fluffy and warm, brushing against you as he rocked his hips.

You let out a whimper, growing wet from his touch. The air was growing cold, even with the fire burning in the hearth nearby.

“Please…”

With that he was pawing at your clothing, helping you undress until your cunt was bare. “I’ve heard some humans say skin to skin contact is the best way to stay warm when the weather is bad…”

He was purring, his deer ears flicking excitedly as his cock slid between your thighs. “I always spend winter all alone, you know? All year I’ve been hoping this time you’d be here with me…”

Soft nibbles were left along your neck as his cock rubbed against your hole, desperate to sink into you.

“I wanna have a fawn with you… don’t you think you’d be a good mama?”

You whined as he pushed in, feeling his cock drag against your velvety walls as you moaned together.

His chest was pressed against your back, his warm breath on your neck. “T-that’s it, my little doe… my mate…”

Your mate’s hips slapped agaisnt yours, making a lewd ‘plap, plap, plap’ sound. The feeling of his ears wiggling and tickling your head made you feel so warm.

He was too cute!

Every time he got close to cumming, his ears would wiggle and his tail would twitch. You had learned this during your time with him, so you let yourself go and began meeting his thrusts.

“Ahh, right there…” you mewled, causing his pupils to dilate. Just the smallest big of praise had him slamming into you, hitting the spot that made you cry out in pleasure.

His cum was thick, filling your womb and making you feel sleepy. With your belly feeling all warm and stuffed with his seed, you knew it would be time to curl up with him soon.

He draped himself over you, his tail twitching as he licked at your cheek. “Did I do good?”

You scratched under his chin, giving the base of his antlers a scratch. “Mhm, perfect.”

The deer hybrid let you pet his fluffy legs as he began grooming and preening you. If you didn’t know any better, you might think he was a cat.

The two of you spent the rest of the blizzard together, snuggling and fucking for warmth.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

[kxsagi]

hii, i hope you're doing well ^^ I really enjoy your style of writing :) i was wondering if you can make my request with tooth rotting fluff the reader's love is so gentle and she takes time trying to understand her S/O and she will always ask for permission to touch them even if they given her permission already, the reader cares for her S/O so gently and delicate like something so dear to her life? Feel free to do this with any blue lock characters ^^ and you can also ignore this if it's way too much work haha, another thing is that i love your works and please take some rest whenever you need it.

“𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞”

a/n: hi! i'm doing well and i hope you are too beautiful :) and thank you so much!!! take rest whenever you need it as well

this was some good needed fluff

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, ness alexis, niko ikki, hiori yo

itoshi rin

at first, he doesn't understand why you're so soft with him. you’re careful when touching his hand, always asking “can i hold you?” like he’ll shatter if you don't ask. 

it overwhelms him. the kind of love that doesn't demand, doesn’t press, but patiently waits for him to be ready. 

you’d brush hair from his face with trembling fingers and say, “is this okay?” even after years of dating, and he’d nod, ears pink, mumbling, “you don’t have to ask.” 

“i want to,” you’d smile. “you’re important to me.” 

that sentence alone makes his chest hurt (in a good way). 

sometimes he stares at you while you're fussing over his bruises, and all he can think is how the hell did i get this lucky? 

isagi yoichi

he melts like butter in the sun. absolutely smitten with how gently you love him. 

the first time you tucked a blanket around him after a long match, whispering, “can i kiss your forehead?” he blinked at you like you'd just proposed. 

he’s not used to being treated like he’s fragile, but you do it so sincerely that it never feels emasculating. just loving. 

you’ll brush your fingers over his knuckles and ask, “can i?” even though you’ve kissed him a million times, and he’ll smile like it’s the first time every time. 

he tries to match your softness. fails most of the time because he’s clumsy with words, but the love shows in how tightly he holds your pinky when you're walking together. 

bachira meguru

thinks your gentleness is the best thing to ever happen to him. 

he’s so used to loud, chaotic love that your careful affection hits different. it makes him slow down. breathe. 

when you cup his face and softly say, “can i kiss you right here?” pointing to his cheek, his grin goes all lopsided and shy. 

“why do you always ask?” he teases, nose bumping yours. 

“because you’re someone i never want to take for granted.” 

he’ll blink, then full-body tackle hug you like a golden retriever in love. “you’re my favorite human.” 

you take care of him in the little things: asking if he wants to be held, if he’s overstimulated, if he needs quiet or chaos, and he falls a little more in love every time. 

nagi seishiro

was confused at first. “you can just touch me, y’know. i’m fine with it.” 

but when you still ask every single time – "can i sit closer?" "can i touch your hair?" – he realizes something. 

you don’t do it because you think he’ll say no. you do it because you respect him. you love him with your whole heart, but never assume. 

“you’re so… careful,” he murmurs once as you gently rub lotion on his sore hands. 

“you’re important to me. and i want you to feel safe with me.” 

he didn’t even know he needed to feel safe until you made it so easy. 

now he’ll pout if you don’t ask first. “you forgot to ask,” he says, even though he’s already curled up in your lap like a sleepy cat. 

mikage reo

falls so stupidly hard for your gentle love. 

he’s used to grand gestures and flash, but your love is quiet and reverent, and it wrecks him. 

when you brush your thumb over his temple and whisper, “can i hold you for a little while?” he just nods and pulls you in like he’ll never let go. 

he’s amazed at how someone can be so kind, so considerate, and yet still make him feel absolutely cherished. 

you remember all the little things – asking before touching his hair, checking if he wants space after a stressful day – and it makes him fall in love a little harder every day. 

sometimes he’ll just stare at you and go, “you’re seriously the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

chigiri hyoma

you love him like he’s made of porcelain, and it gets him every single time. 

he acts cool about it – rolls his eyes when you ask for permission to touch his hair – but the tips of his ears go pink and he can’t stop smiling. 

after injuries and fear of fragility, your tenderness heals something deeper in him. 

“you can touch me,” he’ll whisper. “you don’t have to ask.” 

“i know,” you smile, “but i like knowing you still want me to.” 

that? that makes him blush so hard he covers his face with a pillow. 

he feels like a beloved treasure when he’s with you, and it makes his heart ache in the best way. 

kaiser michael

used to flirty, shallow affection, most times none, so your pure, patient love absolutely unravels him. 

you treat him like he’s so much more than his ego or his game. 

“can i touch your hair?” you ask, even after months together. and he just stares, like you’re something otherworldly. 

“you already know the answer,” he says, softer than he means to. 

“i want to hear it anyway.” 

you care for him like he’s someone worth loving for who he is, not what he shows, and for the first time, he believes it. 

when you hold his hand with both of yours and treat it like something precious, he suddenly forgets how to flirt. he’s just… quiet, overwhelmed, grateful. 

shidou ryusei

surprisingly receptive to your gentle love, even if he plays it off with grins and jokes. 

“asking permission? what is this, kindergarten?” he smirks. 

but the way he goes quiet when you softly say, “can i hold your hand?” gives him away. 

you’re the only person who touches him like he’s not a weapon, just a boy who wants to be held. 

sometimes, in rare moments of vulnerability, he’ll whisper, “you’re the only one who makes me feel... human.” 

and when you cradle his face like he’s something beautiful instead of dangerous, he leans into your palms like they’re the safest place on earth. 

itoshi sae

at first? he's confused. suspicious, even. 

he’s used to people either putting him on a pedestal or wanting something from him, so when you gently tuck his hair behind his ear and whisper, “can i touch you?”, he just blinks. like, actually short-circuits. 

“you’re already doing it,” he mumbles. but his voice comes out softer than he intends. 

and you just smile and say, “i still want to ask. you matter to me.” 

and that? that undoes him. 

you treat him like he’s not a prodigy, not a golden boy, but someone worth loving gently. and that’s something he didn’t know he needed. 

when you ask, “can i kiss you?” even after you've kissed him dozens of times, he’ll whisper, “yeah… but don’t stop asking.” 

he doesn’t say it outright, but he lives for the way you love him like something fragile. because sometimes, deep down, he feels like he is. 

he’ll rest his head in your lap during quiet nights, pretending to scroll on his phone. but the second you whisper, “can i play with your hair?”, his screen’s forgotten and he’s quietly nodding, eyes closing, letting himself exist in your love. 

it takes time, but eventually, he starts asking too. awkwardly. stiffly. like: “can i hold your hand?” “can i lean on you?” “can i stay over tonight?” 

all while pretending to be nonchalant, but his ears are burning, and he gets so soft when you say yes like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

ness alexis

he’s so touch-starved and desperate for validation that when you treat him with gentle respect, he thinks he’s dreaming. 

you’ll brush your fingers along his arm and softly ask, “is this okay?” and he just blinks, stunned, because no one’s ever cared enough to ask. 

he says “yes” every time – quick, eager, needy – but the way you keep asking anyway? it makes his heart ache in the best way. 

“you’re so careful with me…” he murmurs one night as you tuck a blanket around his shoulders. “like i’m someone who matters.” 

“you are,” you say it simply, like it’s fact. 

and ness hides his face in your shoulder because he’s never felt so loved before.

he starts to mirror your habits – asking “can i hug you?” or “can i play with your hair?” – because you’ve made him believe love can be soft and mutual. 

niko ikki

gets really flustered at first. like, blushing to the tips of his ears when you ask, “can i hold your hand?” 

“y-you don’t need to ask,” he stammers, already squeezing your fingers. 

but when you keep doing it, every time, even for the smallest touches, he gets it. 

you don’t ask because you doubt, you ask because you respect him. and that’s what makes him fall so hard for you. 

niko’s love language becomes sitting in comfortable silence, your pinkies linked, as you glance over and softly whisper, “can i lean on you?” 

he nods every time, too stunned to speak. 

“you treat me like i’m precious,” he says one day, voice quiet. 

“you are,” you reply, just as gently, and niko short-circuits on the spot. 

hiori yo

oh, you destroy him (in the softest way possible). 

he’s always been scared of getting too close, of being a burden. but then you come along – so patient, so kind – and ask, “is this okay?” before every hug, every kiss, every forehead touch. 

and hiori just… melts. fully, completely, beautifully. 

you cup his face with both hands and ask, “can i hold you like this?” and he’s already nodding, eyes glossy with emotion. 

you ask him if he’s okay when he zones out. you check if he wants to be alone or held. you don’t assume, you care. 

“you make me feel safe,” he confesses one night, voice barely a whisper. “like… no one’s ever done that before.” 

you brush your thumb under his eye, smiling softly. “you deserve to be loved that way.” 

and hiori hugs you tighter than he ever has before, like he never wants to let go. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[kingkaisen]

a short fic of sukuna (true form) known for being vicious but is soft towards reader where he lets reader take control during sex cause he wants her to trust him and cause maybe she has had a bad experience in the past or smth like that. and then he takes over as he sees reader getting tired from being in control and then also does aftercare or wtv you like tbh 😭

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 — RYOMEN SUKUNA

⎯⎯ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⎯⎯

♡ — 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 18+ only // mdni — fem reader, true form sukuna, smut, riding, creampie, oral fem receiving, soft sex, & aftercare.

♡ — 𝐚/𝐧: I had to tweak your request just a bit because it approached a topic I am not comfortable with writing (refer to my rules for more info) so I hope that's okay! Thank you @hoshigray for helping me out (:

♡ — 𝐰𝐜: 1K

⎯⎯ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⎯⎯

Your hands were on Sukuna’s abs — his hard, solid muscle underneath your soft fingertips. His entire body was covered with bulging muscle, as the King of Curses had an excellent physique that the great majority of human men could never achieve, even if they spent hours in the gym lifting weights and drinking protein shakes.

Slowly, you raised yourself up and down on his big cock, your hole stretching around him in a way that made him look at you with eyes filled with worry and concern — a look he never, ever gave to anyone else.

After all, he was huge. Everything about him was huge. And the last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt.

But, much to his surprise, the stretch of his cock only made you moan softly in pleasure once you were able to properly adjust to his size.

“You like riding me, huh, pretty girl?” He smirked a bit. As badly as he wanted to touch you, he resisted the urge. While he might have murdered anyone else without a second thought, he treated you like a fragile piece of glass — or a beautiful flower he didn’t want to crush or ruin by being too harsh.

And not only was he softer with you, but he’d take the life of anyone who wasn’t.

“You’re huge,” you mumbled, your words mixing in with the soft moans that also fell from your lips.

“I know, babygirl. You’re taking me so well, though. You’re making me feel so damn good, you know that?”

With a groan, Sukuna tossed his head back, stretching his arms out along the couch.

You couldn’t respond — riding a cock like his typically tended to drive away every single coherent thought your pretty little head could form.

For a while, you simply rode him, your moans growing louder as your pace and rhythm started to fall apart, becoming unsteady.

Suddenly, you stopped moving, and you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as you tried to catch your breath.

His heart melted a bit when you touched him so affectionately.

“You okay?” He questioned, speaking softly since you were so close.

Gently, he placed a hand against your back.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” you said, resting against his shoulder. “I needed to take a break. I didn’t ruin your orgasm, did I?”

“No. You know how long I can last.”

“Oh. I was worried I did,” you pulled away from him, which sank you further along his cock as you looked him in the face. “I ruined my own, but my knees were hurting too much.”

A little frown appeared across your face, but you quickly replaced it with a fake smile.

“Don’t worry, I can still make you finish, just let me rest a little.”

You couldn’t fool a curse like Sukuna. He knew you too well. You were the kind-hearted, adorable human being who didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

After all, you were only hurting because your muscles were getting worn out from trying to bounce up and down on his enormous cock, and you didn’t want to make him feel bad about being so huge.

“Maybe I could . . .” Sukuna paused for a minute. He was thinking. “Maybe I could hold you up, and fuck you that way.”

He didn’t want to risk hurting you, truth be told, but the thought of his sweet girl ruining her own orgasm from exhaustion didn’t make him happy.

He always wanted you to cum, and to cum first. And multiple times.

When you nodded eagerly, Sukuna slowly gripped your ass with his lower arms.

As gently as he could, he started to move you up and down along his cock.

“Sukuna, you’re not going to break me, I promise.” You smiled at him softly. “You can move me faster. I want you to be in control, okay?”

Sukuna, the curse responsible for the death of thousands of men, women, and children, looked at you worriedly.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” You said.

And, with that, Sukuna started to increase his speed.

Any uncertainty that this was the wrong decision melted away when you tossed your head back in pleasure.

“Oh my god, Sukuna,” you moaned.

Slowly, Sukuna started to let himself succumb to the pleasure that your tight pussy had brought. Breathing heavily, he started to buck his hips a bit, fucking you like a doll.

“That’s it,” Sukuna said. “Keep moaning my name, baby. Just like that.”

“Sukuna,” a pathetic whine fell from between your lips.

Suddenly, the mouth on his stomach opened, the tongue darting out and running along your clit rapidly.

The sound of your beautiful moans could have made Sukuna cum all on their own.

But, what truly made him come close to the edge was when your juices started to soak his big dick.

“Are you cumming, baby?” He grunted as he spoke. “That’s right. Cum all over my cock — I wanna feel it. I wanna taste it.”

That tongue of his continued to rapidly lick at your button.

“Sukuna! Shit-” You gripped his large arms — the arms that dragged you over his dick until you were practically delirious.

As you came, a wave of pleasure washing over every nerve within your body, your legs started to shake as you started to squirm around, but Sukuna held you still, because his cum only belonged in one place: inside of you.

God, your pussy milked his cock until he couldn’t hold back his moans anymore. His rhythm started to become sloppy. Sweat coated his skin. He suddenly no longer minded the existence of humans.

“I’m gonna cum inside of you,” he warned.

The swirling pleasure in the pit of his stomach had snapped, and he shot his warm cum deeply inside of you.

Everything about Sukuna was massive, including his load. His cum stuffed your pussy until it had no choice but to dribble back out and slide down his cock, settling in a circle around the base of his dick.

When Sukuna pulled out of you, the tongue belonging to the mouth on his stomach instantly started to lap at your messy cunt, cleaning and tasting the sweet mixture of your cum.

And, as that tongue made out with your pussy, Sukuna grabbed the back of your head with his large hand, holding you still as he shoved the tongue belonging to the mouth on his face into your mouth. He groaned at the taste of your sweet mouth. Feeling your little tongue swirl around his as if it could compare to his bigger one was rather humorous, and when he pulled away, he laughed a bit.

“You’re somethin’ else,” Sukuna said. “Come on, let me clean you up.”

“Okay.”

And, with that, Sukuna raised you off of his dick, taking you to the bathroom where he ran a hot bath — not a shower, as you’d both just end up fucking again.

Afterward, your lover put his four arms to use, gliding his large hands across every aching muscle in your body. As he massaged you, he couldn’t help but think about two things: how much he loved you, and how much he enjoyed being in control.

♡ — 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!

[gatorbites-imagines]

“Viltrumites are actually aliens Mark (cuz I love the weird, body horror, and oviposition :3c)”

Me: (leans forward in chair, putting hands together) yes, please tell more of this Mark that includes weird, body horror and especially oviposition 🙏

I honestly would love to hear how Mark treats normal Reader and their eggs. Would Mark being the one to carry them or Reader? 🤔

“Viltrumites are actually aliens” Mark Grayson 

Honestly, this au only comes from me being a fiend who likes monsters. This has no good solid background yet, its just me being annoying. Its also mostly me rambling about oviposition... 

So like, aliens, huh?  

Im always a big sucker for aliens who take a human form to fit in, so imagine that viltrumites are like that. Their true forms are hard to comprehend and understand, so they take a human-like shape to be easier to perceive. 

Mark would have a more solid human form compared to other viltrumites because of his mom. Other viltrumites would be just kinda, blank to look at, kinda like dolls with no pores or inperfections. 

Marks less human attributes start showing after he gains his powers. Like him losing all his teeth at once, only to be replaced with a new pair that just... bursts out through his gums. They look the exact same but... they feel different. 

His tongue becomes a lot looser, bendable and can extend or shrink.  

His joints become extremely loose, like he can stretch his limbs beyond human levels, and sometimes it just looks like he doesnt have bones inside, just liquid. Flexible beyond belief, and doesnt technically need to breathe air. 

Mark realizes he doesnt need to eat or drink to survive, he has no idea what he actually runs on but he keeps going, he also keeps eating and drinking for comfort. 

Mark realizing he can rip himself open, survive and just watch his guts move about. His insides move around for comfort and safety, like, all his vital parts crawl up into his ribcage during fights.  

Viltrumites having more than one heart, but they arent perceivable by human standards, and they form a “heart” to fit the body standard they take. 

Marks eyes reflecting light like animals when you take pictures with flash on.  

Now, on to the oviposition. 

Actual alien viltrumites producing eggs to breed and further their species. Technically they could breed in a more human way, but their bodies much prefer eggs, both laying and carrying. 

Mark carries an “egg-sack” in his abdomen, kinda like a uterus. It doesn't really do anything unless his body is like “yo, mate, mates ready, mates fertile, go go go! Eggs! EGGS!!” and then start producing as quickly as possible because of their biology wanting to breed as much as possible. 

Mark starts having cramps, hes not really sure what it is in the beginning, maybe he just thinks hes stressed or constipated, until he wakes up and god fuck his dick is aching. It doesnt outright hurt but its uncomfortable, and so so wet. 

He would og into something like a heat or a rut, but its not completely like omegaverse. Instead, he starts sweating, salivating, his insides feel looser, his skin doesnt fit the same. His jaw feels uneven, he bites hard into his pillow cuz his jaws just clamp shut like an alligator.  

Mark would have no idea why hes aching but so fucking horny, his dick feels so heavy and his balls ache. Before he knows it, hes stumbled and flown to where the reader is staying, feeling like a salivating wolf. 

Actual alien vilrumite Mark tumbling in through the window, crumbling onto the floor and just immediately humping the carpet cuz the whole room smells like mate. His abdomen hurts even more, and it feels kind alike he has to pee but its so mcuh heavier and bigger. 

Insert reader being like, “what the hell is going on mark?”, and helping him up. The crotch of his shorts is just soaked, and when they finally get them wrestled down to check whats up, reader notices how flushed and wet Marks cock is. 

His slit looks raw and open, like, wide enough that you could push a finger inside and wiggle is about. Mark just starts rubbing his face into readers shoulder, drooling and whimpering, begging for the reader to take his ovum, cuz somehow his animal brain knows what it is. 

Readers not gonna let him just do whatever, cuz hes really out of it, so it just ends up with them on the bed, both sitting on their knees, marks back against the readers chest. And reader is just... kinda milking his dick into some container of some kind. 

The eggs are orbs, a bit bigger than a marble. Theyre solid but has a squishiness to them when you press on them. They are a cloudy white in color, and Marks cum is extra sticky when hes like this.  

The entire time, Mark is crying, both because it feels good, but also because hes so heartbroken that you won't take his ovum. He made them just for you, why won't you take them? Wasnt he so good for you? There are so many, there must be some that are good enough for you to take them, right? 

Later, you guys figure out through a lot of experimentation, that Mark starts producing “ovum” when you are “extra fertile”. It takes a while to figure out when this is, but apparently its if you jerk off and dont wash the evidence off, cuz the scent makes Marks biology go “oh, our mate must be ready for our clutch”. 

I think you guys also can change where the eggs go, like, if you top and Mark bottoms, then his body starts realizing “hey, we arent planting eggs anywhere, our mate is trying to inseminate ours” and then starts keeping them in his egg sack. Youd have to dock him to fertilize them though. 

Hes always losing control of his more human shape when this goes on, and you can mostly tell because he starts panting with his tongue out, and its long enough to lick his own chest without him even trying.

Always ends up with some really deep tongue kissing, cuz he ends up losing control of his tongue.

He might also just get extra worked up during spring, mostly cuz his body is going “oh, everyone else is fucking and breeding, we should too” 

He also just gets more red, like, hes sweating, flushed like hes been working out, but his sweat doesnt smell bad. Mark would get more clingy too, snuffling at the readers armpits, or anywhere else his sweat is strong, cuz thats where the readers scent is concentrated.  

[plethorawrites]

How would the vampire Batboys react if their GN human partner/reader offers them their blood? Maybe reader offers because the boys aren’t lookin’ good/aren’t drinking enough as they should, or maybe reader offers as a way to show them their trust, or build intimacy? :3c

Yes!! I did something similar with Dick previously, but I can totally see this concept with the others as well. (TW: Mention of blood)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---

Bruce: Deep down, I think he'd always imagined feeding from you one day. Maybe as some fantasy or maybe a part of him just knew you well enough to know you'd offer. It wouldn't phase him much, but he'd be elated internally. Still tender, though. He'd make sure you had a glass of wine or tea or something beforehand and sit you in his lap, having you lean your head against his shoulder to expose your neck and he'd definitely hold it firmly the entire time, even when you started to squirm in pain.

Dick: Like in a previous post, I think he'd limit his use of drinking from his partner because he's worried about losing control/getting addicted. It's a treat or a desperate measure and he has to really focus on your heartbeat and how hard you're gripping his arm to make sure you're not starting to panic or lose too much blood. Afterwards, it would just be continuous praise, thanking you over and over and muttering how much he loves you and how he promises to never take too much from you.

Jason: Is terrified when you suggest it. He's spent his whole life being viewed as a monster, even in his own eyes and once finding someone who doesn't immediately fear him, he doesn't want to ever risk making you change your mind. But he's lethargic, out of blood bags in the fridge, and too tired to go find a fresh source. You're right there; of course it makes sense. He's still apprehensive the entire time, physically in pain when he keeps himself from indulging but refuses to let himself. Instead, every single sharp inhale or slight whimper of pain makes him stop, even if it hurts, to check on you.

Tim: Has to do a double take, making sure he'd heard you correctly. But when you nod a second time, his open jaw closes, turning into a grin. He wouldn't pounce right away, not wanting to seem too eager, even if he was. But a few days later, when you're over, cuddling in his bed, he'd be tracing your neck like he often did, imagining how it would taste. His breath would be warm when he whispers in your ear, asking you if you would let him have a snack. Of course you would nod. And of course he would take your hand, letting you squeeze it as tightly as you needed to when he sunk his fangs into your neck, humming in content, just leaving them there for a moment. He adored the puncture marks that lingered for a week.

Damian: Would be confused, at first. He'd stop in the middle of whatever he was doing— training, getting ready for bed, etc. and just stare. You were his partner, not his blood bag. Why would he put you in a position where he could hurt you when he was meant to protect you? It takes some explaining from you, telling him how you want to know what it feels like and for him to know you trust him, that he even entertains the thought. He's still hesitant, but at your request and his own hunger, he tries. He has to pause when you make a sound of pain, but doesn't stop until he's satisfied and you're dizzy. Then, he just wraps his arms around you, kissing the puncture marks to erase the remaining blood.

[scribbledghost]

Slow

Pairing: inhuman!Vessel x Fem!reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 1,632

Warnings: smut, MDNI, Oral (f receiving), PiV, telepathic connection. Does... does this count as monsterfucking...?

Notes: Continuing with the suggestions from this ask: first time with inhuman!Vessel. It's soft, because that's who i am as a person.

It takes a considerable amount of time for the two of you to progress past kissing. Vessel has been around a very long time, so he's not clueless by any stretch of the imagination, but he doesn't want to overstep his bounds or make you feel disrespected.

He has experience, but not much since he was turned into... whatever he is now. He had more as a human, but being an inhuman vessel to an eldritch deity comes with certain differences that he hasn't had much chance to fully explore yet.

Vessel wants to do things right, though. He wants to treat you right.

So, things are slow. He waits for you to take the lead to start, even going so far as to pull away more than once when things get a little too heated.

It takes you flat out asking him if something's wrong for him to explain. It's not that he doesn't want you - quite the opposite, really - it's that he wants you to be sure it's what you want. Of course, the mental connection between the two of you more than confirms it, but he needs to hear you say it out loud.

You'll have to reassure him that you're okay with this. That you're not afraid of him. Because, deep down, that's where his fears lie: the idea of him scaring you away.

It's the same fear he had when he first removed the mask for you. It's the same fear he had when he confessed his feelings. It's the fear of you truly seeing him for the first time and not liking what you find.

Even once the two of you have that conversation, it'll take a little while longer for Vessel to come around. Things progress past your usual heated kissing sessions one late morning, when the two of you wake up together in Vessel's bed. One kiss turns into two, which turns into so many you don't bother keeping track. He tastes into you, and you do the same in return.

You feel him against your abdomen, his length twitching as you pull a low groan from his mouth. It's now, just like several times before, that he pulls back.

But this time, something changes.

"Are you certain you want this, my heart?" Vessel breathes into the space between you, all six pupils blown with desire.

A soft yes is all he needs in this moment.

He shifts you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. Both of you still fully clothed, he allows himself to take his time. To savor the sensation of his body grinding against yours.

It isn't until a soft "please" escapes you that he returns to himself.

"Tell me what you want," he says. "Anything you wish, and it's yours."

Your answer is quiet. So quiet he nearly misses it.

"Want you."

The simple phrase hits him like a crashing wave.

And suddenly things aren't quite as slow anymore.

His sharp canines nip at your pulse, his tongue darting out to soothe your skin when you whine in response. One of your hands finds his hair, tangling itself there as you tug. Pitch black hands slide up the shirt you slept in, groping at your chest before helping you remove the garment.

Vessel sleeps in only loose pants, so it takes little time and effort for him to discard those, as well as the rest of your own clothes.

"Please, let me taste you, beloved," he says against your lips. "Let me drown in you."

Well, how can you say no to that when he asks so sweetly?

There's something about Vessel that you hadn't noticed until this moment, and it's a hell of a time to realize it: his tongue is longer than a regular human's. He must have held it back all those times you'd drawn your own tongue against it.

He alternates between circling your clit and thrusting his tongue into you, his eyes rolling back in their sockets. Low, almost pained groans leave him, and you begin to notice his mental walls slipping away. His thoughts, normally so well-guarded, are projected straight to you, as if he's talking without needing to move his mouth away from you. They're disjointed and sporadic, a far cry from how eloquent Vessel typically is.

Good. So good. Smell good. Taste good. Feel good. I need more. Need it all. Never have enough. Won't stop until you come. Won't stop until you tell me to.

Between his enthusiasm and his own pleasure bleeding into yours through your mind, you feel yourself cresting far sooner than you'd anticipated.

"Ves-" you warn, "Ves, gonna-"

Come, he projects to you, his middle set of eyes opening to stare up into yours. Come for me. Give it to me. Let me drink you in.

Almost on command, your orgasm washes over you, your back arching as you grip the bedding beneath you in tight fists.

Yes, yes. That's it. You're so good. So beautiful like this.

You fully expect Vessel to ease you down slowly, but that's not quite what happens. Instead, he continues lazily thrusting his tongue into you, as if he's trying to savor every last drop of you.

Again, he begs. Please. I need more, my heart. I need another.

To his credit, he notices how much your hips buck when he tries to circle your clit too soon. He allows you to recover without fully coming down, avoiding any sting of overstimulation.

Your next orgasm is faster, but it doesn't find you as explosively. Instead, it's softer, as if a gentle cover of warmth is slowly pulled over your body. All the while, Vessel's soft words greet you in the ether.

He slowly kisses up your body when he's finished, your slick still coating his face. His eyes are lidded, almost as if he's in as much of a daze as you are.

"Thank you," he murmurs aloud as he kisses your lips softly. "Thank you for indulging me, sweet girl. Do you still want more? Or do you wish to rest?"

"More," you respond quietly. You want all of him.

He's quick to oblige you.

Vessel hitches one of your legs over his thigh, staring intently at your facial expressions as he guides his cock into you.

Once again, the world slows. Your brows knit together, and Vessel leans in to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

Is it too much? he asks through his thoughts.

Though your thoughts are more general feelings than coherent sentences in the moment, he's in tune with you enough to know that it's simply the stretch taking a bit of getting used to. You're more than wet enough from two orgasms, so there is no pain or sting.

Once he's buried to the hilt, he rests. His pelvis notched against yours, both of you breathing into each other. Several slow kisses are exchanged, as are silent and softly spoken words.

A subtle shift of your hips tells Vessel that you're ready to continue.

His lips find their place on yours as he begins the slow roll of his hips, the two of you only separating with quiet gasps of pleasure.

It's... strange, almost, experiencing this through the lens of your telepathic connection. Vessel can't really remember any of his previous post-transformation encounters ever feeling like this. Sure, the physical sensations are largely the same, but the emotional and mental ones are vastly different.

As he loses himself more in you and increases his pace, he finds himself unable to tell where his mind ends and yours begins. Your pleasure is his pleasure, and vice versa. The atmosphere between the two of you is one neither of you can properly articulate. All Vessel can really comprehend in this moment is that this feels good. You feel good. An undercurrent of love an affection runs deep beneath it all, bolstering the pleasure and raising it further.

He loses any track of time he had, completely unaware of the world around the two of you.

It isn't until he begins to feel the familiar coil tightening in his core that he knows this can't last forever.

"Close," he breathes against your mouth. The only sign he receives that you heard him is a brief nod before you're pulling him to you again.

You latch onto him as his pace stutters, and as he tips over his own edge, he finds himself clinging to you as well. His muscles tense as he spills into your warmth, an almost pained groan leaving his lips as he comes. His eyes glow, and somewhere nearby, he vaguely registers a sharp pop, but it is quickly forgotten.

As the heat slowly dissipates and Vessel returns to himself, the air is still aside from your combined breaths. He props himself up just enough to look down at you, and both of you break into grins, then soft laughter at the same time.

"Are you alright, my love?" Vessel asks softly as he kisses you.

"Yeah," you whisper back. "Are you?"

"Very much so."

He rolls onto his side, pulling you with him as he does. It's a slow, almost torturous shift as he pulls out of you, and he soothes your soft whine with a kiss to your forehead.

It's several more minutes spent lying together in the afterglow before Vessel notices a glint of light coming from the nightstand. When he turns to inspect it further, he notices several shards of glass there.

"By the way," you say, a grin audible in your tone, "you busted the lightbulb."

Ah. That must have been that strange sound he'd heard earlier. Looks like his powers aren't quite as under control as he thought.

Nothing a good amount of practice can't fix.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 9] Yuuji

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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

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The nightmares stop, he notices. Once you have the stupid baby by your side, it seems like all of your ailments disappear. There’s a look of joy on your face whenever he sees you, something that he had never seen before.

Sukuna won’t admit that he’s nervous, but he can’t help but wonder if you’ll actually treat his sons with the love and nurture that a mother is supposed to give. What if you love a random baby more than his own blood? Sukuna doesn’t like to think of that thought, but it’s not something that he can control. This is why he doesn’t like to associate with humans– How can he control their feelings? 

How will he ensure that you love his sons more than the random baby that you hold in your arms? How will he make sure that this random baby that smiles at you won’t steal the spotlight from his heirs?

“Who’s a beautiful boy?” You’re putting on a baby voice, making the baby laugh in your arms. His beautiful brown eyes stare back at you with pure joy. But the joy in his eyes doesn’t even come close to the ones that reflect from yours. He’s your baby. Your little companion while you’re stuck with Sukuna.

“Not that baby, that’s for sure.” Sukuna tries to joke, but it falls flat. You know he’s being honest. He earns a glare from you before your gaze softens as you look at the baby. He rolls his eyes, wondering how a stupid little human has a greater priority than him. 

Sukuna stares at you for an interminable five minutes, watching as you cuddle the baby that you’ve taken under your wing. His plan worked, but also it’s fired back. 

“Why do you care for him so much?” Sukuna speaks up, curious because you’ve taken quite a liking to a stranger’s baby. You’re not related to it in any way, so why do you take your time to hug and love the baby?

“I think I should name him.” You ignore the question. You’ve come to the realization that you have yet to give him a name. You just call him baby, but he’ll grow and won’t be a baby anymore. In due time, he won’t be the only baby around.

“Hmmm.” He hums in response. He isn’t mad that he’s been ignored, at this point he’s used to it with you. You only answer when you want to, he guesses he’s rubbing off on you.

“Yuuji.” You smile. Sukuna won’t comment on the name, as long as it’s not his sons that suffer from the stupid name.

Sukuna watches the smile on your face fade away in a matter of seconds, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath. He steps toward you, moving the hair out of your way and asking, “Are you okay?”

“Hold him.” You hand Yuuji to Sukuna, who reluctantly takes the baby into his arms. You ensure Sukuna holds him right before a cry escapes your lips. 

“What is it with you, woman?” Sukuna raises his voice, making the baby cry in his arms. He watches you touch your stomach, and his eyes widen at the action. Worry consumes him until he notices that there’s nothing wrong.

“The babies are kicking.” You tell him, something that he noticed on his own. One of his hands goes to your bump, trying to feel his babies as he subconsciously bounces the baby in his arms. 

“They’re strong.” He comments, a hint of excitement laced in his voice. He tries not to let it show, but you hear it. It’s a shame that his excitement comes with your misery.

“Uraume! Come here!” He yells, his hand rubbing your stomach, following the feet of his baby. When Uraume is in the room, he hands the baby to them. Uraume doesn’t need to be told twice, they simply walk out of the room to calm down the baby as Sukuna indulges in his excitement.

“Sukuna! What are you doing?!” You’re caught off guard when he begins to get you undressed. He shushes you, acting as if your voice will make the babies stop kicking. A wicked smile comes to his lips as he sees the trace of their feet. 

“They got jealous.” He comments, almost laughing to himself. They don’t like to share, and that’s understandable. Sukuna isn’t a big fan of sharing either. His calloused hand rubs your bump, exciting the active babies.

“Sukuna, stop.” You have to order, cutting off his excitement. His hand freezes while he makes direct eye contact with you.

“What?” A frown comes to his face. 

“It hurts.” You share, and he takes his hand off your stomach, tying your garments again. You expect him to immediately become stoic once again, but there’s a slight sparkle in his eyes– Something you’ve never noticed from him. You’re almost shocked, though you shouldn’t be. The whole reason that you’re by his side is because he wants an heir, he’s bound to get thrilled.

“Uraume–” He begins, but you put your hand over his huge mouth; that’s when the frown comes back to his face. His hand wraps around your wrist, and as gently as he possibly can, he removes your hand from his mouth. “What are you doing?”

“Yuuji can stay with the servants for a bit.” You tell him. “Why don’t we take a nap?”

“Have you ever seen me sleep?” Sukuna questions, and a mischievous smile comes to your face. In that moment, Sukuna realizes that letting you keep Yuuji was his best idea because he’s never seen you react like that with anything he’s said. Your relationship is improving.

“I’ve caught you a couple of times.” You confess, making him scoff. 

“Like hell you have, woman!” He yells, and you end up chuckling. 

“Right, when you’re not sleeping you’re with–” You begin, before a moan escapes your lips. His babies will be the death of you.

“Lay down, come here.” Sukuna tells you, wrapping his arms around you and helping you on your back. He stares at you… Almost adoringly as he lays down beside you. He watches you take deep breaths as his babies continue to kick.

“They’re strong.” You comment, but it’s not shocking to him, instead his mind goes to what you were about to say.

“You were going to bring up Kyoko.” He says as you shut your eyes. The last thought in your mind at this moment is that woman. Your babies decided that your joke wasn’t worth telling, which is why they started to kick again.

“It was stupid.” You respond, making him roll his eyes. 

“Do you want me to leave her?” He asks, and you begin to laugh.

“Even if I did, you wouldn’t do anything about it.” You argue, and he remains quiet.

You stare at the ceiling in total silence, while he stares at you. You turn to look at him, and he looks perplexed. You don’t know what overtakes you, but before your body can process it, you kiss his cheek. He raises his brows, caught off guard by the kiss.

Did that just happen? He won’t question it, he’ll gladly accept it.

You sheepishly smile at him before saying, “Let’s take a nap.”

Sukuna wakes up before you do, and he gets this weird feeling… He wants to pick up Yuuji. He takes the baby from Uraume’s hands, and orders them to keep watch over you as Sukuna takes a moment with the baby. It’s easy to like a thing if it makes his wife like him– He’ll convince himself that’s not the reason he wants Yuuji in his arms though.

He needs to learn how to deal with a baby since it’s a matter of months before his heirs are born. If he can’t handle one stupid human baby, how will he handle two of his kin? 

“Why does she like you so much?” Sukuna frowns as he stares down at the baby. It’s ironic that he puts the baby on the dinner table; it’s a good thing that the little guy has no idea what’s going on. 

The baby stares back at Sukuna with wide eyes, trying to eat his own foot. Sukuna’s actually amazed that the babies are so flexible, if he tried to suck on his own toe then… He won’t even think about it. Uraume would be put in an awkward position if Sukuna ever got adventurous.

“All you do is drink her milk, shit in your clothes, and cry.” Sukuna lists, as if the baby understands anything. “You aren’t even her kin, yet she loves you more than me.”

Sukuna grabs the baby’s arm, ready to inspect it. There must be something about this darn baby that you adore. Yuuji grabs Sukuna’s index finger, which makes Sukuna immediately retract. Yuuji laughs at Sukuna’s expression.

“Is it because you laugh at anything?” Sukuna frowns. He picks up the baby, and spins the thing around. So small and fragile… If he were in your shoes he’d understand but he can’t. He doesn’t understand the attraction and fawning over something that can’t fend for itself. “I’ll make sure my babies laugh at anything.”

The little arm reaches out to reach Sukuna’s face; an action that no reasonable adult would do. He guesses that’s the fun thing about babies, they fear nothing. It’s why he refuses to eat them, there’s no fun in easting something that won’t fear him.

“Yuuj–” Sukuna begins, but the idiot puts his tiny hand in Sukuna’s mouth. Sukuna won’t eat him, but it seems that the baby wants to be eaten. Sukuna restricts the baby's hands so Yuuji won’t get any more weird ideas. “I guess you’re my son. That’s what she wants.”

He doesn’t know why he speaks to someone that can’t answer. He’ll admit that it’s fun. He’s having a conversation, something that he rarely gets to do. 

“Don’t get any ideas, Yuuji. You’ll never be as important as my actual sons.” Sukuna narrows his eyes as he stares at the wide-eyed baby. A stupid warning.

“My king.” Uraume announces themselves from outside the room, not wanting to cut into Sukuna’s very special time with Yuuji. He hums in response, making Uraume speak again, “Lady Kyo–”

“Tell her to go to hell.” Sukuna responds before Uraume can even finish the sentence. Sukuna made up his mind about something. He doesn’t know when he decided, but he guesses it’s when you abruptly kissed his cheek– Or did the idea come to him beforehand?

“I’m getting rid of her.” He says, something that’s meant only for his ears. And Yuuji’s as well since the baby rests in Sukuna’s arms.

A weird sound leaves Yuuji’s rear, quickly followed by a foul smell. Sukuna’s nose wrinkles, and even though he’s smelt some foul things, nothing compares to this. He nearly gags.

“Uraume, take this thing away from me! Bathe him!” He yells, counting down the seconds in which his servant takes the baby from his arms. Uraume comes rushing, taking the baby from the monster.

“The things I do for that woman.” He comments, motioning Uraume to leave as fast as possible. 

[slasherscream]

crazy ass boys gang + reader who threatens to leave (part two: CAPTIVITY) 

warnings: extreme yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. part one can be found here.

BILLY LOOMIS:

The days move at a snail’s pace. There’s little distraction available to you. 

Billy has always thought you were clever. A survivor. It’s one of the reasons he fell in love. That sharpness to you. But it makes you completely untrustworthy, given the circumstances. And the circumstances are this: your life for the last few weeks has consisted of being chained to the bed.

Not all the time. Not when Billy is home, and can watch you. But when he goes to work, or goes off to kill, Billy takes out the cuffs, and meticulously locks your ankles and feet to the bed. The dark look on his face as he does it makes you watch the process in silence. 

He’s been killing more often. You hope, absently, that he’s still being careful to not get caught. In the years since you two had been together he’d slowed down.

Now, it feels like every other night, you were watching him get ready to go out as Ghostface.

You can tell when he’ll go out next by how he treats you the day before. You two don’t talk anymore. You eat together in silence. Sit together in silence. He watches the dark silhouette of your body through the shower curtain, in silence. (You’re never alone, anymore, when you do anything. When you’re allowed to do anything. You don’t have even a sliver of his trust left.)

But how he watches you is the tell. 

His expression has been a mask of neutrality, since the moment you first woke up, cuffed to the bed. 

On the days before he goes out to kill, though? Those are the days where the mask keeps cracking. Small glimpses at the anger sitting in his chest like a second heart, beating steadily. The silence only makes it worse. Makes the anger red hot and blinding. 

It’s the icy silence of a lover scorned, on his part. And yours is the fearful silence of the last survivor of a horror movie trying to evade the killer at the end. 

The two of you used to laugh together. Laugh, and smile, and love each other. But you, apparently, don’t love Billy anymore. 

But Billy still loves you. So he stares at you until he gets too angry to think straight. And he goes out and kills as many people as it will take to keep himself from ever hurting you. 

JOSH WASHINGTON: 

You’re getting sick of hearing how sorry he is. 

He says it endlessly. Like a prayer. Like a compulsion. The words fall out his mouth as easily as breaths do. 

It feels like you wake up to his apologies and fall asleep to them each night. 

Josh only tied you up that one time, at the start. He apologizes about it often. “I panicked. I’ll never do it again. Not ever. I’m sorry.” You believe him, maybe you shouldn’t, but you do. He’d untied you as soon as you’d begun to rub your wrists raw from trying to get out of the cuffs. 

Once upon a time, you used to use those cuffs on him, at the start of everything. Back when Josh felt he was more monster than Human. Back when he didn’t trust himself not to hurt you. You’d obliged him and would cuff him to the bed before you went to sleep each night, even as you whispered: you couldn’t hurt a fly, Washington. 

You feel like a fly now, in a nasty spider’s web. But you don’t even bother struggling. 

When you’d rescued him from the mountains, his parents had set you both up somewhere remote. Not on another mountain, of course, but in a comfortable cabin out in a forest. No neighbors for miles and miles. Everything you need gets delivered to you twice a month. You used to make the lists of the necessities and send it off to the Washingtons, who were only too happy to give you anything you asked for. 

You’re still getting the deliveries, so you guess Josh has taken over that chore of communicating with his parents. 

You could run away. You could. But you remember how hard it was to out run the monsters on the mountain. You remember watching your friends die, one by one. By claws and by teeth, as they tried to run away. You watched almost all of them die. Or found their bodies. 

Josh wouldn’t kill you. Despite everything, you know he isn’t capable of that. 

Sometimes he still reaches out and touches your wrist, where you’d made yourself bleed with the cuffs, and looks sick to his stomach. They hadn’t even left a mark. But Josh stares at your wrists like a kicked dog, like any day, all these months later, they’ll show up by magic.

No, Josh wouldn’t kill you. He wouldn’t even hurt you. But you know you wouldn’t get very far. The forest isn’t a mountain, but it’s close enough. Sometimes you sit on the porch and just look out at all the trees that border the property line, and try to think about how long it would take him to catch you. 

Ten minutes? Thirty? An hour? You always make yourself laugh, with that last one. 

He’d never let you run for that long. He’d be terrified you’d get lost. Get hurt. He’d drag you back to the cabin, arms a tight-but-never-bruising cage around your waist, and you could claw him to shreds like a hellcat all the while, and you know the only thing he’d say would be: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

You don’t want to hear him say it anymore because it isn’t true. For every apology he gives you, every tearful glance, there’s something beneath it - utter relief, delight, that he’s even able to tell you he’s sorry. That he can reach out and put a hesitant hand on your arm. That he can look over and see you stewing in your anger. 

If Josh let you leave he would have been alone. And Josh has been alone before. He can’t handle it. Not for one second longer. So all that’s left to say is sorry.

STU MACHER:

It’s terrifying how normal he acts.

Love had blinded you before. You’re not sure how, but now you can see Stu for exactly what he is. You don’t ever let yourself forget now. You’d made that mistake once, you can’t make it again. 

You’re not sure how no one else sees it. 

You watch him endlessly. It’s all you can do. Always on edge. Always waiting for him to snap. You watch him at parties while he effortlessly holds the attention of the room. You watch him during dates, while he talks to the waiter like they’re long lost pals. You watch him charm all your friends, all your family. You watch how everyone laughs off all the little creepy things he says. He slips up so often. But he smiles just as often, and his laugh is contagious. The whole world has written him off as an eternally playful man-child. Peter Pan, born again.

You flinch whenever he comes up behind you, draping himself onto your body in that playful way he always has. 

You’d never focused on how much stronger he was before. Now, it’s all you ever think about. You close your eyes, and feel the strength in his arms, and plaster a smile on your face, thinking: Please don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me. 

He seems to have moved on so completely from it all. You wake up in the middle of the night in tears, remembering how much blood had covered your apartment on the worst night of your life. Stu marked the date on your calendar as your new anniversary. 

The heart he made had been comically large, eclipsing the tiny box of the day in red marker. You’d forced yourself to laugh at the enthusiasm and give him a kiss on the cheek. His eyes had been glued to your face. For just a beat too long. You watching him. Him watching you. He’s always watching you now. You feel the burn of his gaze on the back of your neck like a second sun.

You’d felt your smile shaking at the edges. Your eyes starting to sting. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You begged yourself as those sharp blue eyes scrutinized you. Waiting for you to slip. But you didn’t, so he grabbed you around the waist, dipped you low, and kissed you like you were a lead in a rom-com at the end of the movie. 

“We’re almost at our happily ever after, you know.” He’d slyly said at a party with all your friends and family, his arm thrown casually over your shoulder. 

He playfully tells your best friend they’re gonna have to help him pick out a ring soon. Everyone laughs and congratulates you. Tells you how lucky you are. 

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and make yourself laugh too, “Don’t I know it!”

JASON DEAN/JD: 

You have to say I love you a lot more. 

He doesn’t ask for the words. He never would, beyond saying them first and giving you an expectant look. Green eyes boring into yours, begging you to say it back. You could so easily interpret that expectant look as a demand. But you know it isn’t. It’s desperation. 

You say it more because there’s a pit in your stomach. And it twists every time you see how much worse the tangled weeds of that desperation for your love has gotten within JD. 

He’s your shadow, more often than not. Like if he takes his eyes off you for just a second too long you’ll disappear. It wouldn’t be an unfounded fear, with the life he’s lived. All that he’s lost. 

You don’t know why you said something so cruel to him. So thoughtless. JD pushes because he likes the passion you two share. Because he needs to know you care. Not because he wants to push you away. And now he looks at you like a kicked dog every time he thinks you’re not paying attention. But you’re always paying attention. 

You wish you could take the words back. Pluck them from the air and swallow them down, bury them somewhere deep inside you. 

I didn’t mean them. I swear I didn’t mean them. I was just stressed. You just push me so much. But you keep those words inside too. It’s bad enough you said them once. You don’t want to remind JD of them. Bring them up again. It’s clear from how he’s acting they’ve been bouncing around his head already. 

He’s been more quiet than usual. Trapped in his head. He doesn’t even look up when you walk into the room. The look on his face makes you ache. 

You curl up into his side, wrapping your arms around him, and squeeze as tight as you can. So he can feel you by his side, solid and permanent. “I love you, JD.” 

He turns to look at you. Those sharp eyes searching for any hint you don’t mean it. That these pretty words are the lie, and the wanting to leave him was the nasty truth. 

You meet his gaze head on. You would tell him how sorry you are, but you don’t want to think about how cruel you can be, when you get mad. “I love you.” You repeat, instead.

Finally he smiles at you, “Yeah, I know you do, darlin’.”

KEVIN KHATCHADOURIAN: 

You don’t have to pretend you’re happy. In fact, when you try, it makes Kevin very angry. 

He never tells you to stop. But whenever you try to fake a little enthusiasm. Put on a little smile you don’t mean… the look on his face is enough to make you feel sick. His expression hardly moves. It’s the look in his eyes. Like he wants to hurt you. Badly. 

So you stop pretending. 

He demands your presence. Your attention. He doesn’t want your disingenuous attempts to placate him. 

You sit in silence more often than not. 

You used to try and fill the air between you. The more he would stare at you, the more you would talk. He’d hardly blink. Just watching as you’d wind yourself up under the force of your own anxiety. He rarely told you to be quiet. You think Kevin must’ve liked watching you squirm. Watching you uhm and ah, only pausing for breaths, because otherwise the silence would be deafening. And all that would be left would be the suffocating weight of his gaze. 

You don’t bother talking now. What could you say? 

Now you stare back. He’d almost looked surprised, the first time. When you turned to look at him, while he looked at you. You didn’t stop until it was time for you to head home.

That’s how you spend all your time with each other now. You arrive at his home. You take off your shoes. You make your way to his bedroom. Sit on his bed. You take a deep breath, and then you stare at him, and he stares back. 

You hate him. A very big part of you hates him. An even bigger part of you is terrified of him. 

You carry on like this for months. Passing the time. Feeling isolated. Like a trapped mouse, or bird in a cage, even as you live every aspect of your life completely identical to the way you did before you knew what Kevin was capable of. There’s no chain around your wrist or ankle. No guillotine blade on your neck. But the threat is still there, and life feels paper thin now. Like some veil has been pulled back. It all feels meaningless. 

You hate him. But there’s no one you can talk to. No one to turn to. You don’t dare turn to anyone else. 

So one day, while you’re staring each other down you reach into the space between you on the bed with your hand, and lay it down palm up. Kevin’s eyes flicker down, sizing up your hand, sizing up you. After a long moment he puts his hand in yours. 

You go back to staring at each other.

NATHAN PRESCOTT: 

Nathan hates the way you flinch when he gets too close. 

He tries to be understanding. He doesn’t have a right to be hurt, after what he’s done. It hurts anyway. He just tries not to let it show. He’s sure that would make you angry. Him walking around like a little victim when he fucking kidnapped you. He makes himself angry. He makes himself sick. 

But at least he has you. You hate his guts, but you’re with him. 

Nathan tries to tell himself that’s all that matters. But he misses the way things used to be like he’d miss a leg that got cut off. Phantom aches all day long. Every time he looks at you, and finds you already looking at him, hatefully. You used to look at him like you’d never get tired of him. 

He still wants to know what finally made you tired of him. But he doesn’t have the right to ask. So he doesn’t ask. 

He reinforced the cabin so you can’t get out. If you try you’ll have to make so much noise there’s not a hope in hell he won’t hear. He can’t bear to tie you up, or chain you. You’re a fighter, and he’s not much of one, so he probably should. But he can’t. He’d tried and it made him sick. He’d actually thrown up over it. 

He keeps you lightly drugged instead.

He’d thrown up over that too. But he had to do something. 

He’s always careful about the dosage. Careful about every step of the process. He’ll never mess it up. Not ever. He loves you. He’d hurt you once, and he’ll never do it again. He doesn’t want to fight you. Doesn’t want you to fight each other. 

You love each other. It might take a while, but one day you’ll remember that. Until you do, you’ll both stay here, far away from anyone else. Nathan hopes you’ll remember soon.

SEBASTIAN VALMONT: 

He’s going to make you fall in love with him again. 

If he was stronger he’d let you go. Hell, he wouldn’t have paid someone to kidnap you in the first place. But Sebastian has always gotten everything he wanted. And he’s never wanted anything as much as he wants you. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves you. Maybe, before you, he never loved anyone at all.

You split his chest open and carved out a space inside him where only you can fit. You’re the single occupant of his heart. Forever. You can’t expect him to just turn it off. Can’t expect him to forget you. He tried, and he failed. 

So now he’s going to try something else. He’s going to win you back. Obviously, this isn’t the best starting point. But there have been worse starting points for rekindling a romance. 

He hires only one chef and one maid for your new penthouse. He pays them very well to never ask any questions. And to never, ever help you escape. The money is too good to turn down. Life-changing, really. So they never help.

It’s just you and him. The way it was always meant to be. 

You do candlelit dinners every night. You wake up, every morning, to flowers outside your door. Sebastian fulfills your every desire. Hangs on to your every word. You can have anything you want. Do anything you want. You just can’t leave. Not yet. Not until you’re in love with him again. Then life can go back to normal. 

He’d laughed when you asked him if he was going to keep you in the penthouse with him forever. He laughed until he had to wipe a tear from his eye. Then he leaned forward and kissed you softly. “No, sweetheart, I’m not crazy. Just crazy about you.” 

There are a lot of locks on the front door. You’ve never even seen the keys for them. The windows don’t open. Even if they did… the penthouse is twenty stories up, you wouldn’t survive the fall. 

Sebastian opens your bedroom door, giving you a smile that’s both cocky and charming. Hiding something behind his back. Another gift. “Good morning, gorgeous.” 

You smile. Reflex, and don’t know if it’s because you’re too scared not to, or because looking at him makes you want to smile. Sebastian gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek, the way he does when he’s happy. 

Nothing makes Sebastian more happy than getting what he wants.

A/N: we all know it took me forever to do this part two. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. and this fic took too damn long to write. xoxoxo

[mochinomnoms]

So uhhhh...... what other kinks would octavinnle have 😗

🦩

I already went into one I think Jade would have, so I'll list three new ones for each and a brief thing as to why, though it's not their only ones I would say it's some of their top ones.

Azul

Oral fixation: Azul has a refined palate, he can note each ingredient used in dishes with just his tongue! He's learned to put that tongue to good use, so it's logical to assume that he'd like to taste you as well. And Azul does love it so. There is no treat taster than you and your cum on his tongue, and while he's not one to indulge in his meals, for you he'd make an exception. I do hope that you are willing to keep your legs open for a quite some time, after all you wouldn't want to deny him of a treat, would you?

Praise kink: Let's be real, because of his childhood, Azul thrives on recognition and praise for his hard work. When he decides to go into something, it's never half-hearted, especially regarding his love and affection to you. So, praise him! Tell him what a good job he's doing, tell him to keep hitting that spot right there, oh god, Azul, you make me feel so goood~ It makes him feel so so good knowing that only he gets to make you feel like this, that only he gets to hear your voice praising him. It gets him off, so keep doing it at all times, whisper in his ear about how smart and wonderful he is in all aspects, the sweet tone in your voice gets him hot and heavy, turning into a need to keep hearing those honeyed words and show you just how deserving he is of your praise.

Breeding: Out of the trio, he is technically the only one with a mating season (two actually). And while he can usually get over those seasons on his own, with you at his side he instinctually develops a need to breed you silly! Who knew he had such a desire to become a daddy, you'll help him won't you? As his mate? Regardless of whether or not you can actually get pregnant, when the late spring and early fall come, he needs to fill your tummy with so much cum that it hurts! You'll spend at least two months out of the year with bent over or in a mating press until you're shuddering and twitching as milky white fluids are dripping from your hole. Now now, Azul can't have that, so won't you let him fill you just one more time? (It's never just one more time.)

Jade

Shibari: Jade thinks it's fascinating how humans don't have long, winding limbs to wrap their mates and make due with soft, pretty colored ropes. It's even more fascinating seeing the fat of your skin bulge against the ropes. Your chest, thighs, hips, all straining the ropes as your hands are tied against your back, helpless to his poking and prodding. Call him sadistic, but he loves seeing you so helpless underneath him, pretty eyes begging for him to use you and make you feel good. It makes him feel a sort of way to hear you beg to free your hands so you can hold him, dig your nails into his skin as your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jade does love having you be so helpless under him, free for him to use as he sees fit.

Service kink: Jade likes taking care of things, to be depended on. After all, he's so good at being a dependable partner, so why not place all your pleasure into his very capable hands? Be warned, though, Jade can be quite sadistic, and once you place your pleasure into his hands, it belongs to him and only him. There's no need to touch yourself when he hands long, nimble fingers to use, a long furling long to sink into your heat, and attentive eyes that watch and study every single moan, twitch, and breath you take. Jade will make sure that your lust filled brain will be drawn to him, immersed with the mind-blowing rapture he provides. All to the point that you'll only be able to cum through him, whether it be his mouth, hands, or dick. It's fine, Jade does love depend on, especially if it ruins you for anyone else after him. That's if you can bring yourself to leave, after all you'll never find another quite as attentive and caring as he. Jade's made sure of that.

Roleplaying: This plays a bit into Jade's service kink, but he does love dressing you up in cute outfits and making you play a bit. Perhaps he is a butler, and you're his master, bringing yourself down to ruin by a lowly servant as he fucks you into oblivion. Perhaps he's come to collect collateral from you for a deal, and you can only offer yourself. Maybe he's a big bad sea monster, and you're a sweet little human that drifted too far off into the sea. In any case, he loves playing into any of his roles, teasing you as you start of shy like an actor with stage fright. It's wonderful when Jade finally gets to see you lose yourself into your role, all for him. Though, don't be surprised if he decides to turn the table a bit, and dresses you up in a maid costume with a leash and collar. As much as he loves playing his usual role, Jade does also love seeing you coo and tend to him (and his dick) like the pretty, sweet spouse he knows you will be. Go on love, get on your knees and make him feel good. It's your responsibility to clean up the mess of slick you've left on his dick after all.

Floyd

Overstimulation: To no one's surprise, Floyd has plenty of energy to go around once he's interested in something, and you are very interesting to him. He wants to see just how much you can take of him and what he gives you until your crying and begging him to give you a break. But unless you give him your safe word, that delicious orgasm he just gave you is blending into the next as he seeks his own euphoria. But don't think that he won't just ignore his own overstimulation, because he will. Just feels so good for both of you that it almost hurts. And yet, Floyd just can't help and keep going. That yummy high on cloud 9 is gonna keep going, even through your shrieks and cries for a break, the rhythmic slap of skin, the shuddering breaths. He just can't stop, even if he wanted to, oh please Floyd! It's too much! It feels too good-AAAAH~ He'll keep going until you both pass out from sheer sensory overload and exhaustion, his dick still in you and ready to go when you wake back up.

Dumbification: This is a bit surprising, or maybe not, but Floyd loves fucking you until you're so sex-brained that all you can think about his him and his dick. He wants you to love his cock so much that you're bending over and spreading yourself open for him with hearts in your eyes. No thoughts, head empty except for Floyd and his cum. He wants a pretty smile with your tongue lolling out. He wants you to see him taking pictures of him fucking you with your hands forming a heart. He wants you to ignore anything and everything else except for him, because you're his little dummy that can only think about him and his pretty dick that's bruising your insides and shaping you for him. And only him.

Dacryphilia: This should actually come as no surprise, but Floyd gets really horny at seeing your tears streaming down your face. But not from being upset, no, he loves the tears that come from him overstimulating you. They're just so pretty! You're so cute, and he's so big, too big for you, but you try so hard! So forgive him if he's a bit mean, a little rough, and dragging out orgasm after orgasm from you so that you're whimpering and sobbing. Such a sweet sight reserved just for him, as only he can guarantee that these tears come from feeling good and not from something more sinister. Plus, Floyd really likes how you pout at him. It's just so cute!! And he just looooves cute things.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Vampire // Cinna’s Monstertober Writing Challenge

Tags: Vampire!Gojo x fem!reader, gore, nsfw, mdni, blood kink if you squint, masochism, unprotected sex

Synopsis: Creatures lurk in the night. A particular white-haired one takes a liking to you.

An: I’m so excited to start this challenge with you all! I’ve decided to call it Monstertober (there will be one exception to the monster rule LOL srry).

Overpopulation and a deficiency in food had forced your world into an age of evolution. It started off slow as most evolutions do. It started as just one case: the case of Ryomen Sukuna, the first vampire.

He didn't need food to stay alive. No, he was completely immune to aging, and he only craved one thing: blood. It was noted in his case file that he would drink any type of blood, but he had a strong liking towards human blood. One pint of blood, which is a sustainable amount to lose, was enough to satiate Sukuna for a month. However, vampires since then have gotten way more greedy, sucking humans completely dry recklessly.

Then, they started popping up everywhere. Some were bitten, but the "supreme" were the ones who naturally evolved into vampires without being turned by one.

Humans were now not at the top of the food pyramids. For the first time ever, humans were the prey. To help with the overpopulation, the group of the undead proposed a solution.

Cull the herd.

Once every three months, vampires were allowed to hunt humans for sport. Of course, this wasn't the only time they killed or fed off humans. Rogue vampires feasted upon human blood anytime they wanted, but the more civilized vampires waited for the culling to drink from a human.

Bunkering down for the night, you closed yourself into a small closet in the innermost portion of your house. You made sure every door and window was locked, and you prayed to whatever deity was out there that the vampires wouldn't bother you.

They must've not heard your prayers.

You were clutching a wooden stake in your palm as you heard the crashing through your window. Your other hand covered your mouth, trying to mask your breathing. It was no real use though. The vampire could practically smell you from outside your house.

He effortlessly ripped your closet door right off the hinges. His light blue hair was long, and there were stitches all along his body. He admired with with a wild grin and devilish heterochromatic eyes.

"I seem to have found myself a treat!" He claps his hands together, acting as if he just won a claw machine. "Come, darling. You and I both know you're not going to use that stake."

Your entire body trembles as you clasp the stake harder, aiming it at him. "I'll do it!" You cry out, backing yourself further in the corner.

"This is futile. Don't make it harder than it has to be. I'll try not to kill ya." The vampire gives a wide eerie smile, and his sharp pointed fangs were immediately noticeable. You could immediately tell that he was lying straight through his teeth.

You have to do something or else he'll just toy with you like a mouse. You charge straight for him, rearing the stake back to try to stab it through his heart.

"So rude!" He scoffs as he effortlessly grabs your wrist and yanks it above your head. Your arm almost feels like it's going to rip out of your socket.

"Let go of me!" You shriek as you try to yank your arm back, but he was too strong. His hand only tightened around yours, forcing the stake out of your hand. It falls to the ground with a thud.

"You're lucky you're worth the trouble, brat, or I would've already killed you!" He yells, getting more frustrated with your struggling. His head leans near your neck, and you're entire body tenses. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as he takes his time sniffing you. You let out a pathetic cry as you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for the bite.

This was it.

Before you can even react, your arm is let go, and the sound of crashing catches your attention. Quickly opening your eyes, you see another vampire has the blue-haired one pinned to the wall away from you by his head. The new vampire was much more built than the first one. He had a head of white hair, but you couldn't see his face yet.

Until, he turns to you as his hand crushes the other vampire's head into the wall. It practically explodes like popping a really full tick. Blood and brain matter splatter against your walls.

Your body is completely frozen by fear as you can't help but stare at the new vampire's eyes. His blue eyes beamed in the moonlight, almost glowing in the dark. He's devastatingly handsome with a sculpted jaw and nose. He had long white eyelashes and full lips. He slowly allows his hand to drop, allowing for the vampire's deceased body to slump against the ground.

Small whimpers escape your mouth as you search for any conviction to run. You have to get away from him. If you had little chance of surviving that first vampire, then you had no chance of surviving this one.

He leisurely walks up to you, eyes never leaving yours until he's right in front of you. He then inspects your neck closely. "Are you hurt?" He asks calmly as if he didn't just end someone's life so casually.

"N-no.." Your voice meekly trembles out. Your knees are practically rattling together from fear.

"Do you have a death wish..?" He asks as he leans away from your neck. His eyes are nearly half-lidded as he looked at you with such a bored expression. He then leans down and picks up the wooden stake that you were holding on to.

"No, I-" You go to explain yourself, but he rudely cuts you off.

"Stab me." He instructs while handing the stake back over to you.

Your mind is reeling, unable to comprehend why he would give you permission to use his weakness against him. "What..?"

"I said stab me. If you don't have a death wish, stab me." He repeats as he tucks his arms behind his back, and he even leans his chest out to you.

You look at the wooden stake in your hand, and you look up at the vampire who just killed one of his own to save you? You raise your hand unconvincingly, and you completely clam up.

"You don't have it in your heart, do you?" He asks as he stares at the stake in your hand. "Even when given the permission, you can't find it within you to kill."

Your head drops in shame. If this mysterious vampire wasn't there, you'd be dead from the blue-haired vampire thanks to your noncommittal attack against him.

"Foolish." He clicks his tongue disapprovingly before snatching the stake from your hand and diving it into his own chest.

"Wait-! W-what-?" You shout in a panic, watching as red liquid slowly starts to stain his white shirt. You immediately move to his aid, yanking the stake out of his chest. "Why would you do that? Do you have a death wish?" Your hands press harshly against his chest trying to stop the bleeding.

"Foolish human." He repeats as his other hand comes up and gently pets your head. "Wooden stakes are a myth, sweets. They do nothing to us." He reveals quietly as his large hand continues to softly rub your head. "See for yourself."

Confused, you slowly lift your hands, and you see the wound had already closed. His body had healed it that quickly.

"I don't... Everyone knows that's your weakness.." You pout as you look at his blood along your hands.

"It's a myth that we allow you to believe, so you all continue your futile efforts to stop us." He reveals as he takes your hands and gently cleans them off with a handkerchief that he kept in his pocket.

"Then why tell me...?" You quietly ask, feeling your heart pound in your chest from a mix of nervousness and adrenaline.

"It's not like you have any real intention to kill me." He flashes a smile at you, and he tosses the wooden stake into your fireplace. "You don't want to kill, yet you don't want to die. Are you looking to score a role as a feeder?"

Your body shudders from the idea. Certain vampires kept "feeders", also known as humans who voluntarily offer up their blood for whenever their vampire is hungry. There was mutual benefit for both parties involved. The feeder was practically granted with protection from all vampires, and the vampire no longer had to hunt for food.

"I'm not a farm animal." You retort as you cross your arms over your chest.

"No, perhaps not." He muses as he slowly tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. "But you're not a fighter either, sweets. Unfortunately, this world wasn't made for people like you." His finger tips delicately stroke your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head to look up at him. "Do yourself a favor and agree to be my feeder. I can't protect you if not."

"What-!?" You shout a bit too loudly, and he gives you a disapproving look.

"I didn't stutter. Be my feeder and live, or stay here and die. Your choice."

You stare at him with a slightly frightened look. Your eyebrows are pinched together, and your lips are in a small pout as your consider his options. He was right. If you stayed behind, you would most certainly die. The only reason another vampire hasn't came to eat you alive is because they can sense his strong aura in your home, warding the others away.

"I... okay, f-fine. I'll be your.... feeder or whatever." You finally mutter out, and he sticks his hand out to you.

"It's a binding vow then. You be my feeder, and I'll protect you from all harm that comes your way." You stare at his hand and take a deep breath. A binding vow that's broken only ends in death, but what choice did you have? Your hand reaches out and shakes his in a defeated matter.

"Great. Glad that's over. Hop on." He immediately instructs as he turns his back towards you. He bends his knees and holds his arms behind him, obviously wanting you to get on his back.

"What-?" You immediately ask, taking a step back from him.

"Well, we aren't staying here, sweets, and I don't know about you, but something tells me that uber drivers aren't going to be out tonight." He sasses as he urges you to get on his back. It was the start of your new life.

As you slowly climb onto his back, his hands hold onto your the backs of your thighs, securing your body to him tightly. Your arms wrap around his neck. "Oh, by the way, I would've protected you for free." He smirks before running a lightspeed away from your home, knocking the breath from your lungs.

*** *** ***

Being Satoru's feeder wasn't all bad. It's been a few months since you two had met during the culling. You've been slowly getting use to living with him.

For one, he's filthy rich, and he has no real use for money. He lives in an entirely too big mansion that's completely paid off. He even has kitchen staff and cleaning staff to take care of the house for him.

For two, he's so... vain and out of touch with reality.

Since he's taken you in, you've learned that Satoru is one of the supreme. His body had naturally evolved in the predator-like state he's in. Though, he claims that he was very strong before evolving as well.

Not only is he a supreme, he's well-known in the vampire community apparently, which you find that hard to believe considering he never leaves his mansion unless it's to attend a night event. You were allowed to leave. It's not like you were his prisoner or anything, but he demanded to be with you no matter where you went to protect you.

You've gathered crumbs of information about him from the kitchen staff and maids, but Satoru was an open book himself as well. He would answer whatever question you proposed, though you couldn't distinguish how much of his answer he was boasting.

The feeding was surprisingly easy to get use to. Satoru rarely fed on you, and when he did, he was extra careful each time. His fangs would sink into your wrist, and he'd drink just enough to get by before promptly releasing you.

He fed at night mostly, which made sense because of his waking hours. He had given you your own chamber in the house when you agreed to be his feeder, and he'd quietly slip into your room at night. By the sixth or seventh time, your body had grown accustomed to his nighttime visits. You'd unconsciously offer up your wrist when you heard the door creak open in your sleep.

Tonight was like any of those nights. Around three in the morning, Satoru quietly slipped into your bedroom. His stomach ached in pain from hunger. He would only drink what he absolutely needed, never quite quenching his thirst for you as he was very cautious with you're well-being. He was practically starving himself.

You were peacefully sleeping in your bed, looking as angelic as ever. He admired your face while you were blissfully unaware. His hand raked through your hair gently, and you stirred just enough to hold your wrist out to him.

If he wasn't so damn hungry, he'd take his time admiring your beauty, but his stomach was grumbling as he stood over your bed. Bending down to your wrist, he took a deep breath of your delicious scent. You probably had no idea that your blood type was rare - the sweetest amongst humans. He got so damn lucky running into you during the culling.

His lips pressed a gentle kiss against the thin skin of your vulnerable wrist. He then pressed another, more sensual kiss into your skin right against the pulse point of your wrist. Feeding was such an intimate act between vampires and consensual feeders, and the fact that you allowed him to do this while you're at your most vulnerable drove him completely mad.

"Sa-toru?" Your voice was a breathy yawn as you must've woken up from his incessant kissing.

"Shhh, sweets. Go back to sleep. I'm just... going to drink a bit.." He whispers softly as he looks up at your sleepy face.

"Drink or make out with my wrist?" You ask with a lazy smile, causing him to chuckle a bit.

"Maybe a bit of both if my feeder allows it." He retorts with a grin before his stomach loudly grumbles.

You sit up slightly as you look at him with a confused gaze. "You must be really hungry." You softly murmur before scooting over in your bed and patting a spot for him. "I'll go back to sleep... just take what you need."

Satoru almost feels like a nervous teenage boy when you invite him into your bed. He doesn't object though, slipping between the sheets next to your warm body. He nearly purrs in contentment. It had been far too long since he had felt warm.

Your body nuzzles into his side, and you gently press your wrist up to his lips. Your eyes had already slipped back closed again.

"Sleepyhead." He muses with a soft smile. His stomach angrily growls at him once more, and he finally decides not to waste anymore time. He flutters his eyes closed, and his fangs pierce through your skin. He's immediately rewarded with the taste of your sweet blood, and he almost instantly feels rejuvenated.

He gently suckles the blood out from your wrist. His hand was idly stroking yours as he drank from you. The air in the room feels so soothing and familiar between the two of you.

He only holds your wrist for few minutes before forcing himself back away from your sweet taste. His tongue gently laps at the the small puncture wounds on your wrist, hoping to soothe the pain slightly. He's still painfully hungry, but he knows he can live off of what little bit he took.

You flutter your eyes open to look at him - having been pretending to sleep so he wouldn't dillydally. "That wasn't nearly enough." You say as you furrow your eyebrows. His stomach growls to only further your suspicions.

"Who are you to tell me what's enough?" Satoru laughs off your concern as he goes to slide out of your bed.

"I'm being serious, Toru." You say as your hand clasps onto his shirt, preventing him from leaving your bed. "Don't think I haven't noticed how sluggish you are recently."

"Who are you calling sluggish? I'm plenty energetic." He argues back as he looks down at you.

"Toru, please. I'm asking you to feed." You pout up at him. "I'm seriously fine. You never ever take a feasible amount."

The sight of you - a human - caring so passionately about him and his needs has his face turning red within seconds. He looks down at your small pout, and he finally relents.

"Only because you said please. Not because I need it or anything like that." He gripes as he gets back comfortable next to you. "Other wrist. That one will be too sore if I bite it again." He instructs, and you offer up your other wrist. However, the positioning is quite uncomfortable to maintain. He'd have to twist your arm to reach your wrist.

"What about my neck..?" You quietly offer, even pulling back your hair to reveal the flesh of your neck. He's almost immediately drooling at the sight.

"The neck hurts worse than the wrists do. Are you sure you want that? It also leaves quite the mark." He informs you, but you've already made up your mind. Your body is turned facing his, and your head is already tilted for him.

"Neck is fine." You answer calmly as you flutter your eyes closed again, trusting him with your life so willingly as if he isn't some monster.

Satoru carefully dips his head down between your shoulder and your jaw, and he once again kisses your skin. It's almost compulsory to do so. A pleasured hum emits from your throat as your hands find his silky white hair.

It's taking every ounce of self control he has not to pounce on you and ravish you in more ways than just one. The primal urges to feed and fuck consume his brain entirely.

He tries to push those thoughts aside as he bites down on your neck. A small moan escapes past your lips, and he can't quite tell if it's a pained or pleasured one. Either way, his dick painfully throbs within the confinements of his clothes.

Maybe it's a placebo, but he swears that your blood is sweeter around your neck. He assumes it has to be because it's closer to your heart. He groans as he sucks the blood from your neck, taking in more substance from you.

The room is filled with small moans and muffled grunts between the two of you. Your neck is incredibly sensitive in the best way possible, making each suckle feel divine from his mouth. Your body shivers in anticipation as you fee your arousal growing - an insatiable heat between your thighs.

Satoru isn't immune either. He can feel your pulse, smell your scent, and hear your pretty moans. He knows the effect he's having on you, and it only works to make him even more horny than he already was.

When your hips start to subtly rock against his body, searching for any friction, all of his self control leaves his body. He immediately moves to pin you down beneath him with his fangs still buried into your neck.

Your hands shamelessly claw at his back through his shirt, and your legs wrap around his waist. Small needy whimpers and whines escape you.

He knows he should stop soon. He's drank almost a pint from you, but his mind is struggling to make his body cooperate. He can't get enough from you. He craves to devour you whole.

"Please.." Your small breathy plea catches his attention as your hips lift up to meet his again, and a new craving takes over his mind.

He pulls from your neck, but he doesn't lap at the bite wounds. Your blood freely trickles down your neck. His breath hitches in his throat as he swears he's never seen anything more erotic in his life.

His hands immediately go to the waist band of your pajama pants as he feels like he's in a frenzy. He can't be bothered to consider the logistics of fucking you and how he might unintentionally hurt you. His brain is only focused on getting his dick into you as quickly as possible.

Ripping off your pants and panties in one solid tug, he throws your discarded clothing onto the floor. "Satoru.." Your small voice whines as you lift your hips up.

"'m gonna take care of you, promise." He mumbles as his one of his hands sink between your thighs and the other works to get his own pants off of him. "Have to prep you first." His pants and boxers hit the ground.

"N-no.." You whimper out, desperate for his length already.

“Yes sweets.” He argues as he settles between your legs. “I’ll hurt you if not.”

“Want you to hurt me..”

“Don’t…” He has to close his eyes to erase the image of you looking down so pitifully, asking him to hurt you. “Don’t say that to me..”

“Please Toru~” You whine as he’s thumb starts to rub gentle circles around your clit. A wet clacking noise filled the room as you were already soaked.

“Such a fuckin’...” He grunts as he gives into your sweet pleas. His hand guides his tip towards your fluttering cunt. “‘m not gonna be able to stop if you let me do this..”

“D-don’t stop.. I want this, please..”

His eyes fixate on your blood stained neck from where he fed on you just moments ago, and he leans his head down to lap up the sweet blood against your skin. “I warned ya.”

Satoru forces his length into your entrance, stretching you out around his size. Your fingernails dig into his back as you let out cries of pain and pleasure. He hurts in just the best way, leaving you wanting more.

“Shit.. feel s’good, sweets.” He moans as he buries himself deeper. Your wet heat slowly envelops him, squeezing around him like a vice. “So fuckin’ wet and tight for me… my good girl.” He purrs as his hips pull back before he sinks into you once again.

“Hah… oh god.. t-too big.” You manage to moan out as you can practically feel your heartbeat in your cunt. The room fills with squelching noises as Satoru rolls his hips slowly at first.

Your gummy walls squishing around him drives him absolutely feral. His caution is out the window as he pummels into you repeatedly. The headboard of your bed smacks harshly against your wall, and your poor mattress wails in agony as he fucks you into it.

“What are you so.. ngh~ .. wet for, huh? Love me using your body, don’t you?” He grunts as his hips snap back and forth. Your eyes start to cross as you swear you can feel him in your throat.

“Y-yes!” You pathetically cry in response. Your back arches up off the bed as you feel yourself already nearing your orgasm. “T-toru-! I.. I think I’m gonna..” You stumble over your words, unable to formulate what you’re trying to say.

“Cum for me, baby. Make a mess on my cock.. ‘s okay.” He slurs into your ear, completely pussy drunk already. In his defense, he hasn’t gotten any in a long, long time.

“Fuuuck~! Ah~ I’m coming..” You cry out to him as your hands grip onto his shoulders. Your toes literally curl your poor cunt clenches around him, juices roll down his cock so leisurely from your arousal.

“Yeeaahh, that’s it.” He purrs as he rides out your orgasm. “Atta girl.”

You slowly start to relax as you come down from your high until you see Satoru’s hands gripping the headboard. “You can take more, can’t you?” He asks in a way where it doesn’t even sound like a question. He’s telling you that you’re gonna take more.

Satoru has to be conscious about how much of his strength he’s using. He’s one small accident away from ripping your headboard off your bed frame.

Still, he uses the headboard as leverage to fuck you harder. “Fuck. C’mere.” He growls as he gathers your thighs and places your legs on his shoulders, putting you in a mating press.

His thrusts don’t relent in the slightest. His heavy balls smack against your plush ass with each stroke. “‘m never letting you go, sweets.” He mumbles as his thrusts start to falter. “… gonna have to pry me away from this pussy. She’s all mine.”

You’re completely blissed out, only able to moan and agree with his delusional ramblings.

“Mine.” He declares again as he rails himself into you. His tip kisses your womb with each harsh thrust. His pleasure starts to coil in his stomach as he’s so close. The headboard completely snaps as he forgets to manage his strength while he’s on the cusp of an orgasm.

Not even stopping for a moment, Satoru leans his head down, and he bites down into your neck again. Your sweet delectable blood coats his teeth and tongue before he pulls away. He bites again and again, completely marking up your neck and shoulders before be spills himself deep inside you. “God… fuck!” He groans as he releases your shoulder.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he glances down at his seed trickling down from your pretty hole. “You’re makin’ a mess, sweets.” He comments with a lazy smirk before admiring the artwork he created on your neck and shoulders.

You glance up at him with poor needy eyes. Your cheeks are tear stained from the intense pleasure mixed with the bites. His cock twitches pitifully inside you from the sight.

“You can take another round, right? Need to use your cute cunt just a bit more.” Satoru groans as he’s already started fucking his cum back into your hole.

[beloveds-embrace]

(elys anon) gonna try my hand at something. Ignore if too cringe!!!!!

----------------------------------------------------

She hears of you before she sees of you.

Rumors travel fast you see, with halls like these; the walls have ears, and the windows are simply another pair of eyes for the court. They call you prey, in the same sweet mocking way all fae do. You have many names she thinks with silent apathy and an even more silent curiosity—Pretender, Little Queen, The Court's plaything—her people whisper of you, mock of you.

"What a joke." They'd giggle in the same sickening way all fae do. "Isn't that right your majesty?"

She hums, non committal, ever neutral. Ice and steel her cosmetics and apathy draping over her words like a shawl. "I suppose." But her true feelings are far from that.

They say you're weak. That you're pathetic. She however, sees something else.

You are strong. She thinks, unlike everyone else. Even your own husbands who look at her with adoration perhaps. Yes, the walls hear of gossips and more, and the windows brings light to even the most greatest secrets—such is the way of the fae, but you see, she is a firm believer of actions being more louder than words. It is how she's kept her own kingdom alive and running for this long, and so—she sees you for what you are.

The hardest worker there was in those castle walls—the smartest person in your own kingdom perhaps.

She's seen the results of your endless labor you see, how much that kingdom has flourished because of your effort, of how beautiful your kingdom has become.

Yes, your kingdom. Not that man (who she refuses to call by name too appalled at how he and his men treated you), or even the queen.

Yours, a mere human. The softest thing there was in the court, the weakest there was in a room full of the inhuman.

But still, still, it is rightfully yours and even the Forest creatures know. The wretched omen of death, the mischievous whisps, and perhaps even more—all of whom were Mother Nature's most cherished children whom seemed to all but adore you, and how correct they are to be she thinks. Mother nature may be fickle and cruel but she is not a fool, and neither are her children it seems.

She is of the same opinion.

That is why when the day arrives she is to grace your kingdom and finally sweeps past her greetings with the Queen and the men, she passes by them to greet you—who's head is hung low (what a travesty they have reduced you in, you were the one who deserved to hold her head high. Not them), and curtsies before you ignoring the scandalous gasps around her.

The sounds draw your attention, as you lift your head and look at her and—She smiles as softly as she can (because humans are soft, and you are human regardless of how you dress yourself. That is fine she thinks, she likes honest and good things. You are one of them, and therefore the deceit they have forced you to hide in is something she wants you to throw away when she is around.), and gingerly holds your hand up for her to kiss—much like those human stories the court whispers you so dearly adore.

"It is most pleasant to meet you at last, your majesty []"

THIS IS SOO GOODDD ELYS ANON I CANT THANK YOU ENOUGH 😩 an absolute masterpiece istg you gotta make a writing blog now pls 😩 <333 i hope you don’t mind me adding this and basically having it escape me 🙂‍↕️😭

Your name is soft on her tongue. The only name she bothers to speak. Not theirs.

You blink, startled, your lips parted slightly in confusion, and in the space between that breath- she sees it. The glimmer of what once was: the queen who stood alone in a foreign court, wrapped in fae glamours and political silk, holding up a kingdom with hands cracked from too much ink, too many late nights, too many broken promises. A queen no one ever crowned aloud but who ruled all the same.

They tried to grind you down to nothing, she thinks. Chipped at you until even you forgot how tall you stood.

And still, you remain; a little softer, perhaps. A little more quiet. But still, you remain, a solitary tree withstanding hail and storm/

Your hands are still stained with the ink that built this court. Your eyes still carry the weight of every lie you’ve had to wear. And your spine- gods, your spine, decorated in bones and gold and snakes- is still straight enough to shame kings, and she hopes your joined husbands are the most ashamed.

You have been robbed of everything except your dignity. So she will not rob you of that, too.

Thus, it continues quietly, like all dangerous things do; with glances and silence and gifts too carefully chosen to be mere coincidence.

“Is this… for me?” you ask one morning, holding the delicate glass vial up to the light. The honey inside shimmers like starlight- amber and strange, scented with something that doesn’t belong to this land.

Her voice is calm as ever. “It reminded me of you.”

You blink at her, confused. “Sticky?” you try to joke, your smile dry, unsure why she cares for you so- why she seeks out your company above everyone else’s. “Hard to clean up if spilled?”

Her lips curl, small and secret, a moment just between and for the two of you. “Rare. Sweet. Difficult to forget.”

It’s in the spiral-carved bookmark that appears in your book next- your favorite book, though you never told anyone it was.

You lift it from the pages with a furrowed brow. “…This wasn’t here before.”

“I thought it might suit you,” she murmurs from where she stands at your window, pretending not to watch the way your lips part in surprise. “You always lose your place when you fall asleep reading.”

It’s you, who still sits at the same desk, fingers stained with ink, lips pursed in thought as you organize a council that will never truly thank you for it.

It’s you, who walks through the gardens cloaked in styles you no longer believe in, trailing behind the court with that same tired smile, always five steps behind your husbands- no longer quite queen, not quite dismissed.

And yet…

She is always near.

She watches you the way others watch constellations: in awe, in silence, with a kind of reverence that borders on worship. She’s not obvious about it- not as obvious as the others might be, not as obvious as the first day she came to this court and only held disgust for your husbands. Her admiration is laced in frost, dignified and distant. But it’s there.

Gods, it’s there.

She never speaks cruelly to you. Never jokes about your soft hands or your mortal sleepiness. Never calls you “Little Queen” the way the others do, sharp with mockery and disrespect.

“Do you ever tire of it?” she asks you once, her voice like glacial water, after you had to watch another meeting go by without a lick of care being given to your opinion. “Being here. With them.”

You hesitate, glancing down at the scrolls in your lap. “I tire of not knowing where I stand,” you say softly. “But I’ve been tired longer than I’ve been anything else.”

She doesn’t smile. Not then. Just watches you for a long, quiet moment. “They don’t see you,” she says finally. “Not properly. They don’t server you.”

You laugh, and for one it’s not the sound of sweet, tinkling bells heralding joy- but a broken sound, early morning blue skies and rain pattering on a window. “Do you?”

“Yes,” she says. Simply. Without pause, without even needing to think about it.

You think she means it in that polite way that nobles do- acknowledgement, nothing more, even though your heart beats so fast the remainder of the day everyone keeps sneaking you confused, nervous glances.

But you don’t see the way her fingers curl into her silks every time you laugh too brightly. You don’t see the way her throat bobs when your knuckles brush hers reaching for the same document. You don’t see how rigid her shoulders go when you flinch after someone calls you the human consort again, like your existence is a footnote.

You don’t know that she’s dreaming of you, either.

That she lies awake and wonders what your voice would sound like in bed, sleepy and real. That she thinks of your mouth on a teacup and wishes it were her instead. That she remembers, too clearly, the way you sighed once, just once, when her hand lingered too long at your back.

You don’t know that her guards are worried. That her advisors whisper of distraction. That a visiting noble once dared to touch your arm and she, without blinking, laced frost through the veins of his wrist.

You are just… confused.

You notice her kindness, and you thank her with a smile- but you don’t ask why she always stands between you and the cold; you don’t ask why her eyes find you first in every room; you don’t ask why she always smells like the sea wind, like distance and salt and something wild coming closer- you just thank her with too-human softness and bow lower than you should.

“Your Majesty.” You say whenever you pass her. Too formal and grateful for basic kindness..

“Please,” she sighs, and the ocean stills and watches the moon- hushed and yearning. “You can call me by my name.”

You blink. “Are we… that close?”

She looks at you then, and there is a sea-storm in her gaze, though you don’t feel afraid at all.

“I would burn the distance between us to ash if it meant you would see what I see.”

You say nothing. You think it’s fae poetry. A courtesy. You do not yet know her like she knows you, surely she doesn’t mean those words when no one here likes you-

And still- still-

She watches, and she wants, and oh, she thinks:

If she ever lets me love her, I will never let her forget what she is.

Not prey, and certainly not burrowed. Beloved.

And your husbands- oh, your poor, foolish husbands- they laugh at first.

“She’s playing the game.” Simon says, arms crossed, voice clipped.

“She’s being diplomatic- even if’s not needed.” Johnny agrees, too loud.

“She’s curious,” Kyle adds, with that forced little shrug, and John nods.

“Humans are a novelty.”

But their confidence begins to crack when she begins to show you off; at festivals, she walks with your arm in hers instead of their; in court, she praises your rulings before the council, cutting off nobles who try to talk over you.

At feasts, she pours your wine before her own.

“I never knew you liked rosewater.” You murmur, blinking at the glass, a happy little smile curling your lips.

“I didn’t,” she says, eyes steady and hands steady. “But you do.”

In the end, it shouldn’t be surprising when the maids sent to wake you doesn’t find you in bed. She searches and searches, and they are growing alarmed and have informed the guards who have gone to inform your husbands-

And then her maids finds you asleep in her bed, in her arms, and your flimsy nightgown’s ridden up enough they can all see the bite marks littering your inner thighs and your neck.