#begging for them to return the hearts?

[agarafile]

i am gonna ramble for a second bc i cannot stop thinking about the gem and scott and their creaking hearts.

creaking hearts are such a cool feature bc in order for them to work, they need the wood. they need the trees and the forest and life. and on return it creates life.

scott has nine of them. gem has one. a veteran and the newcomer. both going after the hearts. the desire and craving for having life and the contentment with what you can have. the safety in people and the danger of a sword. why are there so many parallels with the two of them?

[justalittlebluetiefling]

I went by the dance team's practice today (I was invited by the coach, I'm not THAT weirdo) and when the senior captain saw me she fully burst into tears so I also cried.

I miss these kids a lot.

[sunsetsimon]

oral is a non-negotiable for simon. you aren't having penetrative sex if he isn't able to have you in his mouth first. you have to be prepared - worked thoroughly and loosened up to be able to take his dick. he wants to slide right in with no resistance, your walls practically suffocating him with how tight they squeeze his cock with desire.

you're whining underneath him, begging him to put it in, saying you're ready and don't need to wait but he's not listening. your dainty panties are soiled already, a growing wet spot visible in the thin fabric. he pulls them down slowly, kissing your knee that's propped up against his chest. your slick sticks to the fabric, a line of dribble sticking to your inner thigh as they're removed.

cold air caresses your clit first, an exhale escaping your pretty lips in anticipation.

"'s fuckin wet already. maybe you are ready for my cock, huh, love?" simon mumbles, more to himself than to you. you can only whimper in response.

his thick fingers spread your swollen lips, exposing your wet clit to him, feeling the throb of your heartbeat against his fingertips. you watch with anticipation as he adjusts himself between your legs, licking his lips as he leans down, your feet coming to rest on his shoulders. he gives your clit a soft kiss, a sharp inhale making your body tense, awaiting his next move.

his hands move to grip your thighs, his slick covered fingers spreading your wetness along your own skin, but you're too worked up to feel embarrassed. you mewl as his hot tongue swipes along your entrance back to your clit, sucking it in his mouth as he flicks his tongue quickly against the sensitive bud.

your legs are already beginning to thrash against him, body involuntarily twitching and shaking as he devours you, shoving his tongue into your creamy pussy as far as it'll let him.

"fuck si!" you cry, gripping onto his short blond hair while your other hand braces the sheets for dear life. your hip flexors burn from being forced open, stretched past comfortability as he holds them down toward the mattress.

"tastes so fuckin' good baby," he groans as he pulls back for air, giving your clit a quick slap that has you nearly jumping off the mattress in shock before he sucks you back in, shaking his head side to side as he flattens his tongue on your clit, dragging you past pleasure to pure ecstasy.

two thick fingers shove into you with ease, stretching your gummy insides and curling against that spongy spot within you that makes you see stars. an immense pressure builds within your stomach, a wet squelching sound echoing throughout the room with each thrust of his fingers, fucking you with them hard and fast.

"gonna cum! gonna fucking cum-" you cry, holding his head in place against your clit as your ass and thighs lock, tensed so hard you can feel them cramping but you're too fucking close to care. simon's dark brown eyes watch your face twist, eyes rolling back as he flicks his tongue against your clit just how he knows you need it.

your hot walls grip his fingers as you release, a rush of liquid squirting out onto his face and chest as he continues to finger-fuck you through it, coaxing all of the liquid he can get out of you. black dots cloud your vision, unable to move or control your body, feeling like you're floating.

"thas' good baby," he comforts you, "y'did fuckin' amazing for me."

his fingers slow to a stop, allowing you to catch your breath and your consciousness to return to your body. your heart pounds in your ears, the pressure almost dizzying. "doin' okay, love?" simon's brows furrow, caressing your outer thighs as you slowly pull your shaking legs closed.

"too good," your voice is weak, "can't feel my legs because of you."

he laughs, wiping his chin from your wetness that drips down to his neck, "good. means you're ready f'me. now why don't you get on your stomach for me, little thing?"

[rainrot4me]

Return The Favor

Summary: Stumbling in on your neighbor’s chopped up body, an unlikely friendship forms between you and Toby. Striking a deal, you agree to help the killer and his friends, buying them necessary prescriptions. But when one visit turns to multiple, Toby becomes curious, finding a not so subtle love note hidden away.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Mentions of death, explicit description of a dismembered body, decomposition, death, gore, obsession, vomit, throwing up, blood (non-sexual), blood (sexual), vaginal fingering, degradation, biting, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, vaginal, choking, gagging, somnophilia, rough, Toby literally goes insane about you, virginity kink, first time, desperation

Words: 9.4k

A/N: This shit long asl I'm so sorry... Characters in this story are not canonical!

It’s said that when there’s a dead body nearby, your body can sense it before your brain can. 

It’s almost like instinct, a survival nature programmed into your brain. It’ll start with goosebumps and chills running all over your body as if you were being watched, this uncomfortable sensation that you just can’t rationalize. Then the anxiety sets in, body aching and sweating for no apparent reason but it just knows there’s something wrong. 

Finally, when you’ve finally choked it up to just being your imagination, that’s when you’ll smell it. Throat instantly closing and nostrils flaring at the putrid stench of rot and gore. It’s incomparable, no amount of food poisoning or disease compares to the sickness you feel in your stomach at the smell of a human body decomposing. Every instinct in your body pleading and begging you to get out of there, run as far away until you can’t breathe anymore. 

You would know. And it seemed like the boy huddled in front of you did too. 

There was no real reason for you to even be in this house in the first place, but your all-too-good heart guilted you into it. You had just come home from work, mind tired and body sleepy as you unlocked your front door, tossing your bag onto the kitchen table inside. It was well past midnight, the diner you worked at closing way later than normal, but at least you made some good tips. 

Sliding into your bedroom, you changed into more comfortable clothes, tying your hair back before stepping into your kitchen. You gripped the tiny journal lying on the counter, cracking the worn pages open to where you left off, scribbling your thoughts onto the paper. It was your nightly routine, journaling things you saw or did, a coping mechanism suggested by your therapist. It wasn’t for anything intensive, just minor anxiety and self-image problems, always having negative thoughts about yourself. It helped. Glancing up, you looked through the tiny window above your sink, a clear view of your neighbor’s back porch, Mr. Higgs, an older man who made it very difficult to be friendly. He was a hateful guy, always nitpicking your choice of decorations or specific outfits he didn’t find appropriate. A real sweetheart, obviously. 

But compared to his usual eight PM lights out, the living room lamp was still bright, shining directly through his open back porch door. That was odd. As long as you had known this guy, it wasn’t like him to be up this late, let alone be outside. Every instinct told you to just clean up and go to bed, his angry ass probably scooting off a raccoon or something. But you just couldn’t pass up that nagging feeling, your kindheartedness overpowering you. So, sighing, you tossed a hoodie on and slid out your back door, stepping down the porch steps into the cool grass.

You flinched as a flash of brown passed your vision, small and thin against the dark grass. Cooing, you kneeled down, holding your fingers out as Mr. Higg’s old cat, Addy, sniffed the air around you, pressing against your bare legs as she purred. The man was way too protective of his cat. Something was definitely wrong.

Standing again, Addy pranced away, meowing loudly behind you as your bare feet became wet against the midnight dew, grass sticking to your ankles as you walked, arms hugging yourself against the cold. This would probably just end with you getting told to mind your business and stomping back to bed upset, but it was the thought that counted. Gripping onto the porch rail, you stepped up his creaky wooden porch, knocking against the wooden frame of the open door.

“Mr. Higgs? Everything alright?” You called into the room, refusing to go in. There was no response, you knocked again after a couple of seconds. Still nothing. You gulped, rubbing your arms against your sides, nerves wracking you. “Okay. I’m coming in. Don’t get mad 'cause you didn’t answer me.” You called again, pressing past the door and wiping your wet feet on the welcome mat. 

The house was quiet, the only light being the lamp sat on a coffee table adjacent to the old couch. All the furniture had an older look like something out of the eighties, it made you cringe. “Mr. Higgs, are you home?” You shouted down the dark hallway, all the doors shut except for one at the end which you assumed to be his room. Hugging yourself, your legs felt anxious, your mind racing with all the reasons you shouldn’t walk down there. There was no reason for it, this was all just probably some old guy who forgot to shut his door, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling.

Taking a step down the hallway, that’s when it started. Those feelings, like your body can feel shouldn’t be there. The air suddenly grew thick, a nauseating feeling setting in against your chest, pressing down like a conscious weight. But you shook it off, telling yourself it was just you scaring yourself with all of those crime shows, but you should’ve known better.

The door was cracked, moonlight from the open shades pressing against the doorframe, your hand flat against the wood as you pushed the door open. Then came the smell. It was stout, a putrid funk that wafted against the walls, souring the room. The room was dark, pupils blown wide as they fought to see, hand sliding against the wall and searching for a light switch. Your body was tense, senses on high alert against the dark, breathing ragged against the awful stench filling your senses. Your eyes were beginning to water, wondering what in the hell could be stinking this terribly, until you felt the switch, flipping it on.

Your first instinct was to throw up, throat constricting and stomach tightening, but you just couldn’t move. You were petrified by the scene in front of you. Mr. Higgs was there, at least, what you could recognize of him. His head had been cleaved from his body, intensive amounts of blood staining his beige bedsheets. His cheeks were bloated, a gnarly purple color as his veins poked against his forehead, skin wrinkled and soaked in blood as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. They were yellow now, dark veins contrasting against the orbs as puss leaked from every hole on his expressionless face. The rest of his body was scattered, chunks of muscle shredded from his arms and hands like they had been cut off, legs more or less the same. His wide stomach was completely visible, his skin swollen and dark, bloated against the same liquids spilling from his pores. The blood was the worst part. It was just everywhere. Splattered on the sheets, the nightstand, even the walls, specks reaching the roof. You were so lost in your racing thoughts, your heart pounding heavily against your chest as you gripped the door tightly, knuckles white on the frame. You could feel the cold sweat drip down your brow, utter fear chilling your body. 

You wouldn’t have even noticed the tall boy standing in the corner if he hadn’t flinched, eyes wide and locked on you. He was lanky, easily taller than you and pale. No, not pale, more gray. He had curly brown hair that fell in front of his eyes, his freckled cheeks flushed against the bandages across his jaw. A pair of goggles rested amongst his curls, a dark mask covering his nose and mouth. He wore dark wash jeans loose around his hips and a heavier brown hoodie that was stained with dark blood. Oh God. The boy didn’t look much older than you despite his bruise battered skin. But he wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, he was just watching. 

His hands were behind his back, shoulders scrunched against the corner of the dark walls as you pressed back off the door frame, breathing ragged. “Who the hell are you?” You grimaced, tone coming across a lot more confident than you felt. The boy flinched, not out of fear, more like a bodily reaction. He refused to answer, eyes scanning around quickly until he pressed off the wall, sliding to the shuttered window and pinching the blinds open, scanning the night without explanation. That’s when you heard loud boots stepping up the porch steps, head spinning quickly down the hallway. “Shit.” You heard him, the boy’s voice panicked and rough, his boots stepping quickly across the hardwood and into your vicinity. Panic strained you, head spinning back quickly before your vision was filled with his arms wrapping around you, palm slapping over your mouth as he pressed you to his chest. 

You tried to fight back, mumbled pleas against his hand as you shouldered his arms, your back pressed firmly against him. He was dragging you into the room, your feet dragging as you struggled, clawing his arms away but he never budged, practically unaware of the scratches you were leaving on his hands. “F- Fuckin’ quit-” He growled quietly, pressing open the small closet doors and dragging you both in, quickly shutting the door as you heard the boots grow louder down the hallway. A sliver of light shone through the crack in the door, leaving you just enough room to see the gorey scene as you pressed off of him, his muscled arms refusing to let you go.

“Toby?” A scratchy voice called into the room, the figure stepping through the door frame and into your line of sight. At his appearance, you froze completely, your body tense against the boy behind you. His arms gripped tighter, bandaged fingers digging into your cheek as he kept you quiet. He was horrifying. 

This man was taller than the one in the closet with you, pasty skin a sharp contrast against his dark messy hair. His eyes were wide, pupils dark against his reddened scleras. He wore a white hoodie, dark jeans covered just the same with Mr. Higg’s blood. But the worst part, the part that made your heart pump in your throat, was his smile. It was etched in, flesh torn upwards into a mocked smile, teeth exposed from the side of his cheek. The area was mangled, seemingly unhealed as blood dried against the cut. He almost made Mr. Higgs seem not that bad.

“Twitch, come on,” He called again, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket as he strolled around the room, kicking Mr. Higg’s severed foot out of the way. “I’m gettin’ tired. This guy had some good beers and I’m tryna get back home and drink ‘em.” He snickered, turning back out of the room and back down the hallway, his loud boots stomping against the old floors. Who you presumed to be Toby didn’t let you go, arms just as tight around you as you gripping his hoodie’s sleeves tight. “Fine then! If you’re gonna play fuckin’ hide and seek then I’m leavin’ your ass here!” He called throughout the house, your body only untensing when you heard the back porch door slam shut, loud boots thunking down the porch and out of earshot. 

You both waited a couple of seconds, heart thudding in your ears as arms slowly released you, palm unclasping from your mouth. Panicked, you slammed out of the closet, turning around quickly and facing Toby, back pressed against the nearest wall as you searched for something to defend yourself with. “D- Dumbass.” He grit, pressing out of the cramped closet and facing you, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie. The stench of the room pressed harder than ever, making your head dizzy as you pressed out of the room and down the hallway, Toby quick on your heels. “Whoever the fuck you are, whatever the fuck you want, I’m sure Mr. Higgs didn’t have it. Why in God’s name is he in pieces in his bedroom?” You hissed, gagging as the image replayed in your mind, turning into his kitchen and wracking the cupboards. When you found a small plastic cup, you ran water in through the sink, chugging the stout liquid down as you calmed your breathing. Toby stayed in the doorframe, crossing his arms. You probably shouldn’t have let your guard down, knowing full and well what he had just down to your neighbor, but you figured if he was going to he would have already.

“It’s none of y- your business. I don’t k- kill innocents, so you s- shoulda just stayed home, m- missy.” He growled back, stuttering through the words. You tossed the cup in the sink, the plastic clattering against the metal as you turned to face him, running your hands through your hair. “Hard to when you guys so obviously left his door open. The bastards hounded me for years, you’d think I’d be happy about his death, but not fucking like that.” You hissed, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms, bare feet cold against the porcelain tiles. “I mean, Jesus. And I mean, thanks and all for the save back there, but how is killing him and saving me any different? It’s just favoring one innocent over another.” Toby shook his head, sliding past you and tugging a drawer open, shovelling through old receipts until he found the stack he was searching for. He passed it to you, paper crinkling as you skimmed through, old pharmacy receipts for prescription medicine. 

“H- Had the old bastard bu- buying our meds. Paid h- him off and everything. Un- Until he started g- giving us coun- counterfeits, sellin’ u- us out. He h- had to pay u- up somehow…” He huffed, shoving his mask down off of his nose and under his chin, his thin lips chapped against the bandages hugging his cheeks. And of course, he was cute. 

“So he gets shredded?” You had to breathe through that sentence, throat tight with nausea. Toby nodded, a small smirk crooking at the corner of his lips. You grimaced, pressing off of the counter and through to the living room, the old furniture seeming a lot less homey now. You were going home, filing a police report, and praying to God these fuckers didn’t come back to get you instead. 

“U- Uh, might wa- wanna clean up, t- too,” Toby chuckled from behind you. You paused, confused as you looked around, stomach twisting as you looked down. Bloody footprints trekked through the kitchen behind you, a trail leading to your bare feet as you lift your knee, gagging at the sight of Mr. Higg’s blood coating your soles. Toby was laughing, the noise muffled against the ringing in your ears as you hunched over, stomach convulsing as you puked on the hardwood floors, your lunch from work coming back up. Head straining, you panted, wiping your lips. “Oh, s- shit, okay.” Toby hissed, sliding to your side and raising you up, hugging you close to his side. He drug you through the door, stomach still churning as you watched your footprints faintly appear beneath you, purposefully dragging them through the grass to get the blood off. You felt disgusting, giving no fight as Toby brought you to your porch steps, helping you up. He was so bipolar, angry and distasteful for one second, then cautious and endearing the next. It really was like you were dealing with a teenager. 

Addy circled your ankles, her dense fur tickling your skin and making you jump, Toby gripping your arms tighter. “Oh, hi kitty.” You cooed, breathing deep as you kneeled down, scooping her up into your arms as Toby helped you up the rest of the steps. Without asking, he slid open your screen door, helping you both inside as Addy purred against your chest, Toby wary as he stared at her. You dropped her on the floor gently, Toby sliding the door shut as you hunched over your sink, cleaning your mouth and grabbing a rag for your feet. Toby still eyed Addy, fidgeting his nails as he followed her. “Ever seen a cat before? She was Mr. Higg’s.” You chuckled, cleaning the soles of your feet off and tossing the rag into the sink, still feeling unclean. Toby nodded, rubbing his arms nervously as he looked back at you, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah. Us- Used to have one. T- They kinda sc- scare me now.” Smiling, you scooped Addy up again, petting her soft fur as you brought her close to the boy, his neck twitching nervously. 

How could this guy shred a man to pieces, but petting a cat was too frightening for him? You couldn’t understand. Digressing, you gripped his wrist, steadying the twitches as you placed his hand on her back, rubbing gently as Toby flinched, breathing quickly. Addy purred, unbothered by the action as he became more comfortable, fingers playing with her fur before he pulled his hand back, breathing deep.

You were too nice for your own good, too easy at giving the benefit of the doubt. Of course, you would find the redeemable traits in a murderer, heart hurting for this boy who was more or less the same as you. Groaning, you dropped Addy, crossing your arms. “Listen. What you did, it’s… For my own conscience, I can’t let it happen again.” You grit, circling your countertop and sitting on a stool, your journal tucked in front of you as you fidgeted with the pages. “If we can agree, I’ll buy your meds. I have a friend who can write me prescriptions, no questions asked. But I need you to understand, under no circumstances, are you allowed to harm me. I’ll call the cops.” Like the cops could stop these lunatics. But, you needed some type of leverage. 

Toby thought quietly, eyes narrowed as he flinched uncomfortably against Addy rubbing on his shins, purring loudly. If you could hold your end, there would be no trouble, but he had to know he could rely on you. “Th- The meds aren’t for m- me. My f- friends, they need ‘em to function, m- mentally… You g- gotta realize this is- is serious.” Even stuttering his voice was stern, arms crossed as he thought, contemplating. You nodded, brushing your hair from your face as you groaned, realizing how desperately you needed to learn to set boundaries. “I can get them. But you have to keep your end, too.” You hissed back, pinching your fingers nervously. Toby smiled, crossing his heart, literally. Rolling your eyes, you nodded, rubbing your face as you groaned. What the fuck were you even doing? 

“I’ll have them by the end of the week. Come later at night, cops’ll be swarming for weeks thanks to you.” Toby nodded, sliding over to the counter and gripping your journal, tearing a page out as he wrote the list of prescriptions you would need to get. It was a hefty list, some of that shit intense. “Abou- About that,” He slid his mask up over his nose, sliding the screen door open as he stepped out, chuckling. “Do- Don’t go outside. Gonna ma- make it look like a g- gas leak.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he shut the screen, sliding his hood over his head and peeling down the porch steps. Finally taking a deep breath, you stared at Addy, wondering what in the absolute fuck you were doing. Rest in hell, Mr. Higgs.

-

He made it look like a gas leak alright. The house was on fire in minutes, the bright orange flames lighting your room as you heard sirens in the distance, your other neighbors gathered outside their houses as you climbed into bed, groaning your displeasure. Cops and firefighters swarmed for days afterwards, investigating the area thoroughly, but never finding any remains of Mr. Higgs, his body buried somewhere far away. They eventually grew restless, the city quickly cleaned up the charred remains of the house and a new plan for construction was set in soon. It went over smoothly, no one even suspecting a thing. 

The days passed slowly, nervousness building as the end of the week grew closer, feet shuffling as you stood in line at the pharmacy. You got the doctor’s notes easily, already called in and waiting to be picked up as you were handed a small paper bag, the pharmacist eyeing you closely as you hurried out. Once in your car, you rummaged the sack, eyes wide as you read the dosage instructions on each little pill bottle. You read each bottle carefully, cringing at the names of the contents: Thorazine, Prolixin, Haldol, and even Aripiprazole. They were all high-end antipsychotics, the list of treatments for schizophrenia and mania, along with treatment-resistant depression. The last bottle caught your eye, a quick Google search told you it was for tourette's. So his twitching wasn’t just nervousness, huh. Shoveling the sack into your bag, you sped home, Toby well on his way as the sun set low.

The first week was easy, Toby in and out without so much as a hello, nodding his thanks as he bolted back into the woods, eyes dark and heavy. It was easy for you, moving along with your life despite the one night of the week. You felt easier, the boy quick about his stops with some chat, but never hanging around for too long, eyes always scanning the tree line nervously. 

As weeks passed, he grew more comfortable, you learned that he was quick about stopping due to his friends, their curiosity about you making him nervous about losing his ‘dealer.’ You learned to leave his meds on the counter, sometimes not even present when he would sneak in at the late hours of the night, your job taking precedence over your sleep schedule. But with all of this money being spent weekly on medicine, you had to pick up more time at work, everything being paid for out of pocket not to raise suspicion. You were sleeping more, journaling and your hobbies taking less importance until they were practically nonexistent. It was hard, your serving heart refusing to let you rest, making sure Toby got his medication is the most important thing. You were strained, to say the least. 

However, surprisingly, after a couple of weeks, Toby wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He had slid in like he always did, you sat at the counter eating your dinner as you scribbled through the pages of your notebook, summing up the previous days. You were exhausted, Toby making you jump slightly as he shut the screen door, rummaging through the paper sack. “G- Got any more?” He grinned shyly, sliding his mask and goggles off and tossing them onto the counter. You nodded to the fridge, an extra container of leftovers from the diner quickly opened in front of him as he shoveled it into his mouth. “It’s better heated up,” You laughed, shutting your journal as you slid off the stool, gripping the to-go container from him and popping it into the microwave. You both sat there awkwardly, Toby kneeling down to rub Addy’s back as she appeared beneath him, soft purrs echoing. He was still nervous, never petting her for too long before standing back up, the microwave beeping. The food came out steaming, sliding open a drawer and handing him a fork, Toby continued to shovel the food into his mouth. You hissed, holding his arm as the steaming food sizzled inside his mouth, it had to be burning him. “Oh. Y- Yeah, I don’t fe- feel pain. Th’s good, tho- though.” He grinned, slurping up more of the food. He acted like he hadn’t had warm food in forever, stuffing his face and barely giving himself time to chew. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he ate.

The stays became longer after that, his excuse being he was hungry, continuously raiding your fridge until you began to have food ready for him, prepping his meals along with your own. Thirty minutes turned to an hour, to two hours, and then eventually through the night. He would crash on your couch, Addy curled in his lap as the television blared some old movie. That was one of the only times you didn’t see him ticcing, the cat acting as an anchor against his restless body. He looked truly comfortable, using your blankets and pillows to his advantage, beginning to invite himself to stay the night after a while. 

You sat at the counter, Toby snoring loudly as he laid face first into the couch pillow, scribbling into your journal. It was the one thing you had time for, having to get up early for work as the soft glow of the kitchen light lit the pages. Toby was practically pushing himself into your life, his lack of manners and curious mannerisms leading him to take initiative. You were grateful for his friendliness, giving great detail of his missions with his friends and explaining that whole situation. Even still, you were wary. 

But against your better judgment, your relationship with the killer was becoming less transactional. He brought you things to make for dinner, talked with you through your mutual sleepiness, and even took care of Addy when you were too delusional after work. For lack of a better word, he was becoming a friend, showing up for more than just his medication, even sometimes forgetting the bag and having to chase him down. He was infesting your life, arriving earlier than he should and leaving later than you cared for. The end of the week was becoming optional, the screen of your porch door sliding open nearly every night of the week Toby didn’t have a mission. It was annoying but in a comforting way, like you both were becoming closer naturally despite your differences. 

As you heard his snores, you groaned, rubbing your tired eyes as you began to write, letting your pencil guide on the page numbly as you wrote your thoughts. It wasn’t directed at Toby on purpose, but the further you got down the page the further your heart sank, hand fisted in your hair as you rested your elbow on the cold marble counter. “Ah, Jesus…” You grit, scribbling the final few words as you lean back, rubbing your head. The words weren’t lies, more of a hard truth you weren’t willing to accept, chalking it up that you were just tired and desperate. The words could have been about Toby, or they could have been about anyone, you didn’t really care. Sighing, you tore the page out, folding it and shoving it into the back of the book, closing the pages quickly. Sleep sounded much easier as you flipped the kitchen light off, turning the volume of the television down as you trudged upstairs to your room, giving one last glance to the snoring boy and his matching cat.

-

Toby knew his mishaps with you, his moral compass long forgotten the more time he spent inside your home. He told himself it was just easier, food and shelter at his disposal whenever, but he knew better. It was so much more than just picking up medicine for Tim and Brian now, it was a solid relationship, a bond that was forming in his eyes. 

It had been almost four months since the unfortunate death of your neighbor, a smile creeping every time he saw the charred flecks of wood buried in the overgrown grass. You had begun to leave the back door unlocked, reasoning that someone breaking and entering would be less of a hassle than him. That was what Toby really hooked onto the most about you, your humor about everything. Despite your hardships and the emotions you had to overcome, you held a caring heart, compassion always lacing every action. He found it admirable, your humor through your busy life. And, likewise, he did feel bad for making you work so much, tired eyes always hurting his heart whenever you were around. But, it wasn’t like he could get a job, so he helped where he could, cleaning and learning to cook for your sake. He needed this medicine, for his friend’s and his own stability, even at your expense.

You were already nestled at your spot on the counter, writing your thoughts in that damn journal. You barely even looked up as he entered, diving for the fridge as he scooped up Addy with one arm, her purs a nice vibration against his shoulder. Popping the container in the microwave, he leaned in over your shoulder, trying to catch a glance at your scribbling before you shoved him off, closing the book quickly. “Ah, ah, mind yours.” You smiled, forking your own food into your mouth. “O- Oh come on, [Y/N], just a pe- peak.” He smiled back, gathering his food as he began to eat, sliding onto his familiar spot on the couch. It was routine now: where you sat, what he watched, what you both talked about. He explained his latest mission with Masky in more detail than you enjoyed, pushing your food away as you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You both laughed throughout the night before you whisked your food into the fridge, calling your goodnights before heading upstairs. 

Toby continued to watch the television, brushing Addy’s back with his bandaged fingers as he sat his empty container to the side. His curiosity nudging him, he raised up, tossing his trash before he slid to the counter, you all too confidently leaving your journal there. Slipping back onto the couch, he began to flip through the pages, listening closely for your footsteps as he read your entries, smiling as they dated all the way back to your high school years.

It seemed as though everything you thought spilt onto these lines, emotions erratic between every page as he realized just how much of a people pleaser you really were. All through your recent years, it was nothing but service, acting through the goodness of your soul until it felt sickening, fake almost. He cringed, flipping quickly through but finding nothing juicy, no deep dark secrets that he felt were interesting. Sighing, he closed the journal, standing to set it back onto the counter, until a slip of paper fell from between the pages. Smiling, Toby leaned down, arms twitching as he slid the journal back onto the counter, leaning against the marble as he flipped the paper open, reading carefully.

“Sometimes, when I think about it too hard, I get all emotional about myself. I know I put on a front, like everything I do I’m in charge of and can handle, always putting everyone around me first. But what if I wanted to be put first? I do so much for the sake of others but it never seems to be returned, never compensated for the mental strain. Well, maybe I want to. Maybe I want to be loved like I see others, rough and real. I have no clue how I even would, I can barely handle touching myself before I'm overwhelmed. But I just want someone else to take the reins, show me that I don't have to work my brain so hard and can just numb out. That's not too much to ask, right? Just someone who can love me, not some creep or one night thing, someone who cares. If I never ask for anything again, that would be it. Someone who wants me for me.”

He could have died. The brunette’s cheeks dark as he re-read the crumbled page, excitement coursing through him. In his mind, he wanted to storm upstairs and just rattle you then, showing you how good he could treat you. It was like a bomb had gone off, Toby having to pretend like him having a crush on you wasn’t achingly obvious, convincing himself he just didn’t know how to act around women. But now it was clear, his mind racing with a million wants and needs, body spasming under the excitement. 

Convincing himself to leave, he slipped the note into his pocket, body buzzing with excitement as he slid out your door. He would be back, like always. But this time, he would show you what you truly needed, what only he could give you. 

-

Like always, Toby left a note for the medication you needed to pick up, it sometimes changing week to week. Everything looked normal, the usual combination of pills reading off. But as you scanned the bottom, you groaned, shoving the paper into your pocket. Trilafon, Saphris, and… Plan B. As if your desperation for some affection couldn’t have gotten much worse, your heart twisted, a lump growing. Whether it be for some girl he was laying or a girlfriend he already had, you didn’t care, all you wanted was to get the medicine and go. Crawling into your bed sounded like a much more exciting activity than dwelling on the brunette, heart saddened in all the way you knew it shouldn’t. 

To make your night even better, Toby didn’t show. It wasn’t unusual, for him sometimes not to show up for days due to extensive missions. But a part of you longed to see him, especially after today, just to help your mind with the whole morning-after pill situation. So now, instead of imagining him surrounded by his friends on a mission, you imagined him towering over a girl. Strong arms holding her, body contorting to fit against hers… You could’ve been sick, shaking your head as you ate quickly and pressed upstairs, barely petting Addy before you slinked into bed, hauling the covers over your head. 

It was lonely on nights without his presence in your house. But especially tonight, thoughts racing uncontrollably to the point of tears, thick droplets streaking down your face as your chest hurt, longing for a body, any body, to hold close to yours. Maybe you really were just a transactional thing. 

-

Toby smiled as he trekked through the familiar stretch of woods to your house, heart racing in his chest. He had it all planned out, exactly what he wanted to do, his cock already twitching in his jeans. 

He hadn’t shown up tonight on purpose, hanging back at the mansion to take the best shower he could, Ben teasing him about how good he smelled as he was leaving. You had to be well in bed by now, body tired after working all day just for him. He would take care of you, showing just how grateful he was for how much you were giving up just for his friends and him. Pressing past the tree line, he smiled, pulling his hood down as all the lights in your home were out, signaling your retirement. 

Pressing up the steps, he slid the screen door open quietly, careful not to alert you as he clicked it shut. Stripping his hoodie, he tossed it onto the couch, Addy purring light against the cushions. It was warm in your house, black t-shirt hugging his arms as he untucked it from his jeans, climbing up the steps, his mask and goggles quick to come off next. 

He was too excited for his own good, boots stepping quietly against the old hardwood as he slinked to your door, fidgeting with the knob. A rush of your scent blew into his face, your perfume stout in your small bedroom, eyes searching around in the dark space for your bed. It wasn’t hard with your breathing, quiet snores making him smile as he leaned against your mattress, admiring your unawareness. You looked so peaceful, his bandaged fingers tracing your cheeks and brushing your hair from your face, your skin flinching under his touch. “Hi, baby…” He whispered, the pet name sounding right against his tongue as he referred to you, tugging the sheets down. 

Toby always knew how nice of a body you had, you sometimes sauntering around the house with shorts and a t-shirt and making his eyes trail just a little longer than normal. But now, under his cold hands, you were even more gorgeous. You were wearing an oversized shirt, a slight tug at the fabric revealing that you only had panties on underneath, you slightly stirring as his nails brushed your skin. The brunette was excitedly jittering, kicking his boots off as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at your curled body sound asleep. You shifted, rolling onto your back as you breathed deep, stretching your arms before settling back into yourself. Toby could have died, your legs stretching out to rest around him, his cock twitching with interest against your now visible panties. A quiet sigh breathed through your lips.

That was all the invitation he needed. Running his cold hands under your shirt, he felt your warm skin and goosebumps rising as you squirmed under them. Your brows scrunched but Toby pressed further, running his fingers along your waist and up to your tits, palming the mounds gently as he smiled. It was crazy to him just how soft your skin was, not weathered or bruised from missions or nature, perfectly smooth under his axe-calloused hands. Pushing your shirt up to your chest, he gasped at your round tits, the weight so perfect in his hands as he pinched at your nipples, rubbing the nubs gently. Toby was never very sure of anything, always brushing through life at the command of others. But the one thing he was sure about? His love for boobs, especially yours. 

Nudging closer between your legs, he rested your knees on his thighs, leaning down to your chest as he popped a nipple into your mouth, sucking gently. The nub was hard against his tongue, slowly circling as he massaged the opposite one in his palm, pinching your nipple gently. That’s when you began to stir, hands sliding against the bed and unconsciously searching for the cause of your sensitivity. Lazy hands pushed against his face, soft groans echoing in the boy’s ears as he popped off your nipple and moved to the next one. Your hands fingered through his hair, tugging lightly until your eyes were beginning to flutter, your mind slowly coming alive. Toby let off your tit, kissing along your chest and licking a stripe between your tits, humming as he watched your eyes slowly blink open, confusion rocking you. He kneaded your tits gently, tugging at your nipples as you realized what was happening, eyes slowly widening as you strained to sit up against him. “Toby? Wha-” Your voice was scratchy, ridden with exhaustion as the brunette kissed up your neck to your cheeks, pushing you back down as he slotted himself flush between your legs. Slowly realizing what was happening, your cheeks flushed dark, hands pressing against his chest as you squirmed, nervously babbling as your body was still half asleep. “Lay b- back, baby… You’re so ti- tired, let me take c- care of you…” Toby sighed, running his hands back down along your skin, relishing in the way your body nervously shook under him.

You physically could not believe what was happening. This had to be a dream, some sick trick your mind was playing as you felt cold fingers hook under your panties, sliding them down. Heavy eyes wide, you grabbed his arms, clenching your thighs together against his waist. “No- No, wait- I don’t even, I mean, I’ve never-” Toby was already shushing you, gripping your wrists together and kissing your palms before pushing them back down to your sides, resuming his tug down your thighs. “I’ve go- got you. Don- Don’t gotta worry about a- a thing…” He smiled, raising your legs up to slide your panties down the rest of the way, hooking them off of your raised ankles before pulling you down closer to him, pushing your shirt over your head. “Read y- your journal, you don- don't gotta act protective, ba- baby. I know this is what y- you want…” If you weren’t already panicking, you definitely were now. 

You wanted to hound him for snooping through your journal, mouth opening to tell him off. But as his fingers brushed against the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your folds, you lost all train of thought. He was watching you, eyes excited in the darkness of your room as he swiped his thumb closer again, your thighs flinching shut. “Anyone else e- ever touched here before?” He mumbled, pressing his thumb against your plump lips and tugging them open, getting a nice look at the wetness that was already forming between your folds. Shaking your head, Toby lit up, cock pushing hard against his jeans as he had to adjust his position, using both hands to pull your lips apart, sighing at how pretty your cunt was. Just something about knowing that Toby was claiming his stake on you, imprinting his touch for the first time before anyone else could, made something deep inside of him burn. It wasn’t like the brunette got much play himself, hooking up with a girl here and there, but being your first? That already made this so much better than any other girl could even try. 

Sliding his fingers through your wetness, you gasped, hands clutching the pillow behind your head as he groaned, spreading your arousal across your lower abdomen. You whined, thighs begging to clench together as he purposefully slid your juices over your cunt, pressing his thumb down against your swollen clit and jolting your back off the mattress. You had only ever masturbated here and there, your body getting too overwhelmed after one orgasm and forcing you to stop, but would Toby stop? As he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them into his mouth, you doubted his restraint.

“Please be gentle…” You warned, hands planting on the mattress as you sat up, resting on your elbows as you watched Toby bring his digits back down to your cunt. He rolled his eyes playfully, tugging your folds open with his opposite hand as he pressed the tips of his fingers against your entrance, pressing in slowly. “I’ll try…” He laughed, your fingers gripping the sheets tight as you watched his fingers sink in slow, stretching your cunt uncomfortably. His index and middle fingers screwed into your tight walls gently, twisting his wrist to draw a moan from your lips, digits spreading against your gummy walls and making your entrance ache. “Just i- imagine my dick in here…” He cooed, eyes darting between your nervous face and your pretty cunt fluttering around just his fingers, barely even handling them. 

Pressing his opposite thumb against your clit, he began to rub in small circles, dragging your hips further and further off of the mattress until you were practically rolling your hips against him. His fingers probed in and out of your cunt at a slow pace, just enough to make you comfortable with the unfamiliar intrusion, but his arms ached to go faster, curl his fingers until you spasmed. “Toby…” You sighed, his hands moving in time with other as he screwed his fingers inside of you, angling them just enough so they pressed against your tight walls. His name sounded like heaven against your aroused tongue, so quiet but so desperate, secretly drawling for more. “Tell me w- what you want, ba- baby…” The pet name made your face hot, your stomach fluttering as you pressed back into the pillows, running your hands down to your thighs and squeezing the flesh. “I want… more…” You sighed through your arousal, cunt clenching desperately around Toby’s cold fingers, sucking them back inside every time he drew them out. The brunette laughed, pushing his feet under him to push his hips up against your ass, your hips raising off the bed as he fingered down into you. You could feel his cock straining behind his jeans below your raised ass, twitching needily with every tug of his fingers and moan that whined from your throat. His size was overwhelming, making your heart pound as Toby began to curl his fingers, making your eyes shut quickly. 

His fingers pressed so deep in your cunt, curling against your sensitive walls and making your jaw hang, beginning to press against your walls at a steady rhythm. It was like a new fire had lit under Toby, fingers screwing in at a quicker pace and making your stomach clench, face screwing into an overwhelmed feeling. His fingers pumped in, knuckles sinking in through your wetness and gripped by your gummy walls, curling his fingertips just right as he got deep. It was so intense, so rough, just a mess of slick and your wet cunt sounding through the room with every squelch as he abused your clit, swiping left and right quickly. Your thighs twitched and ached with every curl, trying to close around his hand practically fucking you into sensitivity. Your hands wrapped around his forearm quickly, begging his wrists to stop curling abusively inside of you as you tugged your nails into his skin. Toby wouldn’t, continuing to pump his fingers as he stared at your flushed face, cunt squelching embarrassingly loud. “Just a l- little more… Co- Come on…” He groaned, nudging his hips against your bare ass as his fingers milked moans and whines out of you, his fingers glistening with your arousal every time he tugged them out. He couldn’t feel you clawing at his arms, loud groans begging him to let up as your cunt clenched, molding around his thick fingers. 

You could feel your orgasm rolling through you, Toby huffing as the veins in his arms popped, his shoulder muscles straining against his shirt as he watched your face carefully, picking up as your moans became louder. “Gonna come f- for me? Yeah?” He teased, clothed cock twitching against your ass, pushing your cheeks apart as he rutted against you. He curled his fingers quicker, mumbling his arousal as he watched your cunt swell around him, clit throbbing under his thumb. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, stomach tightening and forcing you to sit up, Toby was quick to let off your clit and wrap his arm around your back, holding you up as he pumped your through your cunt squelching, tightening around his digits. Your eyes rolled, teeth grit tight as he palmed your clit, slowing his pace to a slow thrust as you became undone against him. No orgasm of your own had ever compared to that, head light and chest heavy as you breathed quickly, gripping Toby’s shirt tight. 

Refusing to let you go, Toby leaned in, pressing kisses against your neck and licking at your sweat, relishing in the warmth around his digits. You whined, cunt sensitive as he tugged his fingers out, his skin raw and pruned against the wetness coating his digits. Your folds were absolutely drenched, Toby spreading his fingers through your lips and pushing his sopping fingers over your warm thighs wrapped around him. “God, y- you’re so wet-” He gasped, pressing his fingertips back against your clit as he laid you back, gripping your tit. Your mind panicked, cunt flashing with sensitivity as he began to rub against your clit, swiping left and right against the rub quickly. “Toby- Stop- Toby, please-” You cried, breath catching in your throat as your stomach clenched, his fingers pressing hard as he pinched your nipples, eyes trained on your wet pussy. “You e- ever squirt before?” He smiled, transitioning fast between digging his fingers into your cunt and pulling them back out to swipe against your clit. It was nauseating, cunt crying desperately for relief as he dug nails into your tits. Gasping loudly, you gripped his arms, knees screwing tight against his sides as you cried out, hips bucking up against his hands. 

Every time his fingers slipped into your entrance, they squelched loudly, fluttering around the intrusion before desperately aching as they tugged out and moved onto your clit. “Squirt li- like a whore, m- mkay? Quit fightin’.” He hissed, letting his hand off your tit and scooping under your left knee, pushing it back to open your cunt wider, spreading your legs further apart. Your head was dizzy, heart pounding as you gasped for air, panting at every push of his fingers. You were already quick to cumming, but it felt weird, not that normal clench you felt in your stomach, more of a strain against your cunt itself. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as he forced your pussy against his will, ruining you. 

As he swiped his fingertips down hard against your clit, your entrance clenched, mouth opening wide as you cried out, hips bucking up as you felt your cunt squirt, thighs trembling hard. There was literally nothing to compare it to, mind hazy as you sprayed onto his black shirt, his fingers digging into your entrance and pushing more juices out of your swollen folds. Toby was smiling, moaning his approval as he rubbed your clit softly, pushing the last of your orgasm out as you strained against the mattress. “Gunna fu- fuck you dumb, baby…” He growled, tugging the soaked shirt over his head and tossing it as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down and off his legs as his cock hung heavy against your drenched cunt. You couldn’t even react, head spinning as Toby gripped your hips, pushing you onto your side as he grabbed your ankle, pulling it onto his shoulder and straddling your other. 

Neck craning with excitement, he teased the tip of his swollen cock between your folds, slicking himself up with your ruined juices. “This is wh- what you wanted, is- isn’t it?” He smiled wildly, pressing his cock into your ruined cunt, groaning loudly as you swallowed him in, warmth gripping tight as he gripped your leg, other hand stable on your tit. You groaned, face turned into the pillow as he began to thrust deep, giving you no mercy as he tugged at your nipple, biting at your calf as he fucked into you. You felt so full, your body so exhausted already as stretched you further, your entrance burning against the sting of this new girth. You squeezed him so tight, cock forcing itself deeper with every tug of his hips as you began to cry, tears staining your pillowcase.

“Fuckin’ tal- alk to me, baby. Gunna mak- make me cum al- already.” He sighed, teeth chewing against the meat of your calf as he pressed your cunt wider, sweat dripping from his nose as his curls clung to his forehead. He let off your tit, left hand slinking up to grip your jaw and turn your face back to look at him, your eyes heavy as they blurred with tears. Toby looked so good right now, cheeks dark against his freckles as he towered above you, cock pushing against your gummy walls and making your mouth hang. “So pretty…” He smiled, slinking his hand down to your throat and squeezing, cock pulsing as your face tightened, mouth gasping out as he clamped tighter, refusing you air. There was something so orgasmic about cutting your airway, watching your body react as he fucked your virgin cunt, holding your life in his hands. He had to breathe deep to stop himself from cumming, his violent brain spasming out. 

He pushed your ankle over his head, pulling out roughly as he rolled you onto your stomach, you gasping from the wave of air hitting your lungs. Pushing himself against your ass, Toby swore, pushing his cock back into your cunt as he pushed your back down, making you arch against him. “Just a l- little more, m’kay?” He growled, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and squeezing hard, pressing your face down into the pillow. With a new pace, he fucked down into you wildly, hand kneading your ass hard as digging his nails into your skin, little welts forming across the soft flesh. Your muffled cries sounded against the pillow, head light and static filled as you gasped for air, Toby’s cock ramming down against your g-spot. “Never s- seen a bitch so willing, so des- desperate for my dick you’d gi- give it up so easily.” He teased, growling as he let off your neck, neck sore as he leaned down, pushing your hair off your neck. Toby hadn’t felt like this before, wanting to mark you, fucking you so desperately he wanted to carve his shape deep inside. He couldn’t let you go without knowing exactly who you craved, corrupting you, ruining you, molding you to fit only him. 

He licked against your shoulder, sucking onto the skin before he pressed his teeth, digging both hands into your hips as he sunk them in, groaning at the pop as your blood soaked his teeth. You were crying, screaming into the pillow as your entire body begged for him, craving him, mind going blank as your blood dripped from his chin as he licked at the wound. He pressed on, nibbling into the crook of your neck and sucking revolting hickies into your skin, marking you like an animal. “Wan- Want you to come on m- my cock, baby. I got- gotta fill you full, want y- you ruined for everyone b- but me.” He mumbled quickly, cock begging to spill inside of your warm cunt as you reached around, gripping his hair as he sunk his teeth in again, walls fluttering around him. You pulled his hair, dragging his mouth off of your neck and to your lips, smashing your swollen, tear-stained lips against his as he groaned, kissing you roughly. 

You were cumming again, back arching onto Toby’s cock as you moaned into his mouth, walls holding him tight inside. He tried to move, to continue thrusting, but you were so tight all he could do was rutt his hips, begging for friction as his own seed spilt, his brows screwing tight as he came deep inside of you, warm cum seeping deep into your cunt. Your mind was blank, eyes rolled as you cried into his grasp, his nails digging into your hips until you were nearly bleeding. Your cunt squelched, milking his cock as he finally pulled from your lips, letting the last of your orgasms fizzle out before he pushed off of you, slowly tugging himself out as you whined. Looking back, his cock was soaked, glistening with your arousal and streaks of blood, Toby’s eyes wide. “Ah… Yo- You tore…” He hissed, wiping his soft cock with his shirt before pulling his boxers on, quickly trotting out of your room. You dropped your head back onto the pillow, cunt aching and body ruined as you sat in your sweat and each other’s cum, mind tired as you slowly blinked. 

Toby was back in seconds, a water bottle, a wet rag, and a small bag all in tow as he climbed back onto the bed, flipping your lazy body onto your back. You smiled, sipping the water bottle slowly as he began to clean you up, gently running the warm rag between your folds and against your thighs until he was satisfied, gently rubbing your skin. Finally, he grabbed the bag, your confusion evident as he tugged out the prescription bag, rummaging for the plan b he made you buy and popping one of the pills out, handing it to you as he smiled. Your chest welled, previous anxiety dissipating until you began to tear up, taking the small pill before reaching to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down next to you. Toby went easily, body cradling against yours as he kissed against the bruised spots on your neck, rubbing your bite mark gently.

As you began to doze, Toby mumbled something about your note, your mind too dizzy to hear the rest. The last thing you saw was a subtle flash behind your eyelids, sleep overtaking you as Toby held you close.

-

Morning came quickly, your body stirring, reaching for Toby but finding the bed empty. Confused, you sat up, eyes heavy and head still pounding but you pressed off the bed anyway, searching for the boy. Downstairs, on the countertop, laid his hoodie neatly folded, with a small piece of paper resting on top. Sauntering over, you reached for the top, sliding it over your head, it falling before your hips as you gripped the paper, reading its contents.

On a mission. Be back later tonight. Meanwhile, enjoy ;)

Flipping the paper over, you gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth. A small picture was taped to the back, a polaroid-type photo of the two of you cradled together, your bare body pressed against his, bruises and sweat on full display. Smiling, you tucked it into his pocket, breathing the scent of his hoodie deep as Addy circled your ankles, begging for breakfast. 

Staring out your back porch door, you made sure it was unlocked, always open for him. Killer or not, that boy was yours now, accepting his every mishap the same way he did yours. For the first time in a long time, you felt wanted. 

Rest in Hell, Mr. Higgs.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, captive bunny reader, hybrid au, mindbreak

fem reader

Thinking about bunny darling… and the mighty bear who’s taken you captive.

Of course, you’re piss-scared to anger him. Goosefleshed when he’s close, shivering from lips to knees—unsteady and speechless—only able to barely nod your head when he asks you if you’d like his big fat cock whilst rubbing the huge clothed pound against you needily.

You close your eyes when he smiles—terrified of those strong teeth, how a bite could easily snap your neck.

But there is one saving grace in it all, in how all type of shame disappears in knowing how there would be no sense in fighting back. He’s way too massive for you to even humor the thought. It would just be too silly.

The understanding makes you pliant in his bed, nice and soft. He doesn’t even need to use threats or ropes, only sweetly suggestive language, which you listen to all too keenly.

“Can you spread your legs for me?” he’ll croon, and you’ll answer by doing just so—spreading them wide to allow him space between them.

He knows he’s hunted you down and taken you against your will, but your display is nearly enough to make him forget—how you wrap your tiny arms around the breadth of his back, barely long enough to braid your fingers behind his neck—holding onto him for dear life like a lover would—moaning oh-so-sweetly when he preps you on his thick fingers. One is enough to make you squirm—wet and warm and velvety in the palm of his hand as he kneads the heel against your clit. Two has you bucking your hips in return, and three makes you all but fall apart—tears on your pretty face, staining your cheeks raw, begging him to give you the real thing, to breed you, to fill you up with his babies.

Bunnies make such sweet little sluts. So easily drunk on pleasure and the promise of more, you go completelydumb in the wait. When you get like that, there isn’t a single sliver of fear within you—too numb to care about anything but the fatness bullying its way within you, so warm you feel like melting around it like a lollipop on a stick.

You suck his tongue with moans while he pounds you. Your legs hooked over his hips, trying to hold on—but his pace is brutal, and you’re not strong enough to withstand it. Luckily, his paws hold your ass steady—one on each cheek, squeezing you firmly, holding you just right to ram your womb on each heavy hard thrust.

You tell him the sweetest things as he makes you cum—how much you love it, how you adore his big bear dick, how you want it to go on forever.

You know no limits when he’s pushed you into heat. The fever reduces you to nothing but an animal seeking to have its every desire sated. The way you ride him is nothing short of shameless—with your back turned, showing him your cotton tail, your feet in the bed, standing while you hop on his lap, in bliss like you’re bounding about a flower field in your head.

You make no protest as he maneuvers, laying you down with your face mushed in the mattress. He stands behind you, mounting you—holding your puffy tail in a fist, squeezing it while rutting into you with enough weight to make you sound like a squeaky toy.

“Please, fill me up—breed me full—” you all but whine against the sheets, curling it in your fists—feeling his cock run you through, making putty out of your insides.

Yeah—in moments like these, it’s impossible for either of you to remember you’re his captive. It feels too good, too right—so euphoric, it’s anything but forced. He drapes you with his body, holding you tight with his cock balls-deep, giving you his all, every last drop of his love, right inside your starving womb.

And the feeling is so fulfilling, you might as well have hearts in your eyes, panting, “Thank you, thank you, thank you~”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Enji, Aizawa ♡ JJK – Toji, Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Naoya ♡ BLLK – Kunigami ♡ DS – Doma, Sanemi ♡ HxH – Uvogin

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[nanashijt]

I’m worried they’ll end up being like… hero syndrome villains, causing trouble to fix it and acquire recognition… I really don’t want these two to have an unhappy end to their story. I WANT THEM TO REDEEM THEMSELVES AND BREAK THE CYCLE.

Surge, Kit… I’m begging you, don’t prove your torturers right! Don’t be the pawns they wanted you to be. Starline’s gone, Clutch is all but fucked now. You can do this, you can change!

surge and kit in the annual

surge: maybe starline was right about this whole cycle thing. we need to do our thing. there’s no point being mad at a world that’s too stupid to do anything to even help themselves. maybe i’ll make sonic’s death look like an accident, or i’ll just dethrone him. we’ll see what happens. but either way, we’re gonna be the new heroes around here!

kit: i’m going to kill tails and cause problems :)

[moechies]

:¨ ·.· ¨: ୨୧ somno w toji

somno with toji never works :( he’s simply too big, and any part of him inside of you would wake you up in an instant, no matter how deep of a sleeper you are.

you proved this true the one time toji came home later than normal from a weighted job, scruffy and worn. yearning for some love from his dearest, cutest wife, jittery at the thought of your sweet lips against his own, and your soft skin pliant against his.

although worried, you had put yourself to sleep on the couch outside of your guy’s bedroom, a plated meal warmed and covered in a wrap for his hoped upon arrival. upon staggering upon the doorstep, fidgeting the key into the hole to get the lock open, he’s greeted by the soft, warm atmosphere of what hes able to call home.

his eyes set on your pliant body sprawled across the couch, body sunk into the soft pillows beneath you. your snoozy face on display due to you laid on your side, and a little knit blanket limps across your tummy. you’re wearing one of his over-sized shirts with a thin pair of panties, delicate lace and a strung bow that details the rim of it.

although originally admiring your soft body laying so peacefully, he can’t help the way his eyes divert to the sight of your chubby cunt, hugged so snugly by the crotch of your panties.

it’s adorable, honestly.

he makes his way towards you with ill intentions, dropping his belongings as he strides towards you.

soft snores reverberate through your body, paying no mind to the huge man mounting you from the side. he curses himself silently when all he can imagine is a sweet imagine of your is your fucked our face imprinted in his head, cute drooly mouth and crystalline tears painting your cute cheeks. his ears ring with your little mewls and cries of his name, little hand grappling at his much larger bicep trying your best to ask for a kiss.

he feels his cock ache and throb against your warm thigh as his mind surpasses all of these perfect moments, wasting no time before tugging at the silk embellishment of a belt, shimmying off his pants and discarding them on the ground. he hoists your soft leg onto his shoulder, shirt lifting along side it allowing him an open view to your perfect cunt, and your perfect slit. he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

although racked with guilt, head pulsing with anger at his poor self control, he can’t help but replay certain moments in his head; where you’d beg him to use you, conscious or not.

with honeydew tears rolling down your face, desperately holding the man impossibly close, mewling in his ear, ‘use me, use me, use me !” and all you ask in return is a sweet kiss on the lips. he chuckles at the thought, you, who others assume to be such a dear, gentle as a fawn, cute as a doe, the most innocent of all, compared to the version of you only toji knows. he’s utterly blessed.

his mind acts as a record, one that doesn’t stop playing, one which each and every film is of your sweet, sweet self. he’s not long into his fantasy before he finds himself mindlessly humping against your clad pussy, a thick layer of slick beginning to form from the simulation.

he lets out a mere laugh, tugging the crotch aside to be met with the prettiest sight of your worked up cunny. the sheen coat of arousal does nothing but highlight your pearly clit, and milky hole, all ready to take your favorite. your breath has labored, eyes squeezed tight, and cheeks flushed with a light rose, outcries for your dearest lover; ‘toji, toji, daddy— d . . daddy,’

his pride can’t help but swell at cute commentary unconsciously slipping from your lips; to know that even in you’re sleep, you were dreaming of him.

as his hand holds your panties aside, the other tugs his cock out from the confinements of his boxers, dragging the sloppy tip against your slit. he watches the two textures of arousal mix against eachother, his creamier pre blend into your clear slick. he can almost feel himself staring at the mess through heart-shaped lenses, obsessed with how your hole pulses around his mere cock head.

he feels your body twitch against his, leg shivering lightly, as you huff. much as if you had been awake, other than your usual whining and rushing, tugging at his much larger hips to hurry.

he finally lands above your hole, pressing lightly against the wet flesh, assuming he’s being diligent with his movements in order not to wake you. he watches as your soft cunt swallows his pudgy cock head as if it’s a right, fat lips hugging his cock head tight.

his technique doesn’t work too well.

his mere tip sits comfortably inside you when he hears you whimper loudly at his initial movement, eyelashes fluttering as you wake yourself with heavy pants. your leg attempts to retract, but he keeps a easy grip in order to keep you still. your cries grow louder, completely oblivious as to what’s happening around you in your woozy state. you flinch at the scarred hand that lays against the soft skin of your face,

“it’s jus’ me, honey. don’t fret.” toji comforts, smiling at the way your head turns to face his, brows furrowing in confusion.

“o . . owie—“ you react regarding his cock head protruding your cunny from below, “t-toji,” your hand grips at his fingers weakly, slowly adjusting to the ‘foreign’ feeling of his cock.

“mhm.. that’s right, darling girl. y’slept well?” you shake your head quickly, pouting up at the man above you. he tilts his head to the side, anticipating your explanation.

“ ‘s ‘cause you w-weren’t home. m-missed y’so much, toji.” you sniffle, tugging his arm in order to pull him closer.

“oh, poor baby.” he replies solemnly, reaching down to press a loving kiss onto your forehead. you feel him nudge himself deeper, squeaking at the unprepped stretch.

“heh.. missed you so much too, doll. y’know that?” he cups the side of your face, shallow and short thrusts of his cock. more than enough to get him off perfectly. you nod your head rapidly with shut eyes, fists clenched into little balls against your chest at the overwhelming simulation.

“y’r doin’ s’good. ‘s almost over doll, t-then i’ll put ya to sleep.”

“w-wait hnn— m gonna cum !”

he snickers at your meek whines, teasing you slightly,

“already? this pussy’s so sensitive, sweet doll.”

he knows it’s the mixture of you barely conscious, added onto the intense simulation of his cock pounding against your gummy walls over and over, but he loves the little helpless glare you shoot him, silently begging him to let you cum.

“please, please—“

“shh darlin,’ no need to beg. cum, cum f’me, doll.”

and with a couple deep strokes, his cock overwhelmed by the way your cunt pulses and squeezes around him, he cums a potent load into the depths of your womb.

he jets a milky and viscous stream of thick cum into you, seemingly never ending as he slowly rides out his high by lazily humping into your spent cunt.

his eyes can’t help but pace back and forth from your lewd expressions to the creamy mess below, watching his load spread across your chubby folds and dirty the inside of your thighs.

sweet whispers of ‘love you, love you,’ fall from the lips of the man, pressing wet kisses all over your face. you nuzzle against his face, kissing down his jaw, entertaining his needy behavior that you surely wouldn’t see for a while.

[goldengirlgalaxy]

The Bedazzler

After a very hazy night that... may or may not have been caused by something he found in the Ghost Zone, Danny ends up discovering in his haze he bought an absolutely outrageous amount of various craft supplies, especially shiny things like those little plastic rimstones.

Good news, everything was bought from a going out of business sale, so he didn't drain all of his funds. Bad news, everything was bought from a going out of business sale, which means he can't return them. And, frankly, he doesn't want to just throw away a bunch of stuff he paid for. But he still doesn't know what to do with it all.

At least until Clockwork decides to give Danny a small boon that lets him stop time. Then he gets some ideas.

It first starts off with Superman. He's doing his regular hero thing, when he suddenly feels his cape pulled to one side. He brushes it off as the wind, until people start pointing at his back. Clark nearly panics when he finds a bunch of green crystals on his cape, only to calm when he realizes they're plastic and attached with glue. That of course begs the question, who was able to glue gemstones to his back without him noticing?

Later that same day he's both amused and even more confused when Luthor appears again, only for a bunch of gem stickers to appear on top of his bald head, clearly arranged to spell out 'I Heart Superman' in icons.

Captain Marvel suddenly feels something appear on his head, only to discover it's some kind of cardboard crown. He's confused, but ultimately decides to wear it the rest of the day, thinking it might be from some meta fan of his.

Martian Manhunter finds a necklace appearing on him. When he pulls it off, he finds it's one of those Shrinky Dink plastics, designed to look like a medal that says '#1 Hero' on it, also with some extra plastic gems for extra bling. He wears it proudly for the rest of the day.

The Gotham Bats all get hit at the same time. Fake flowers, various colors of ribbons, Red Robin had a helium balloon attached to him for an hour, and of course plenty of shiny fake gems.

At first, everyone thought the funniest part of the mysterious crafts was Red Hood appearing with several rimstones attached to his hood where he mouth would be, several gold ones arranged in such a way that it looked like he was flashing a bunch of yellow teeth.

Then the Joker showed up. And was promptly doused in several pounds of glitter. Even better, it got into his eyes, effectively blinding him and giving the Bats a chance to capture him (after they were done laughing).

Of course, as more Leaguers get trolled, the more the stories start to paint a picture of someone running around pranking them. And many of them want to know just who this Bedazzler is.

Meanwhile, Danny is laughing his ass off and is planning on giving his friends a chance to have their own fun.

[monstersholygrail]

Proper Appreciation

It had started innocently enough. You were lounging around and admiring your Dragon Hybrid Husband as he hovered over the fire in your shared den, preparing a meal for the two of you. Always so happy to provide for you and take care of you. To make sure you were eating enough and happier than you could’ve ever dreamed.

You almost couldn’t believe it. This dragon was your mate. He was yours as much as you’re his. Emotion wells up inside your chest, gratitude and affection blossoming within you as you stare at your husband. A husband who is totally unaware of your current oogling or the hearts currently present in your eyes.

Now, now, that just wouldn’t do. Is a mate truly at their happiest unless they know how utterly loved and adored they are? You think not.

Throughout your relationship with your Dragon husband, it’s been revealed that there are many differences between the ways that humans and dragons show their affection for another. You sneakily glide up to your husband and give his ass an appreciative slap, but it’s not until he whirls around, staring at you as if you’ve lost your mind do you wonder if dragons have this sign of affection or not.

“Mind telling me what that was?” Dragon husband asks, his face aghast. Even as he shivers at the echos of the sting left on his bottom. A blush creeps up on your cheeks as you scramble to explain.

“I thought you looked hot.”

“And that’s how you think to tell me? Is this another human custom I have yet to learn?” He saunters over to you, walking around the fireplace like a predator cornering their prey. The dinner he was making now long forgotten.

Heat blooms in your belly as fierce as a dragon while you gush with arousal. One look at your Dragon Husband and you’re absolutely fucking soaked.

“Kind of,” you say, your voice sounding breathier than you expected. Your husband’s eyes flash with a deep simmering lust. The fire inside him sparks to life and you know you’re toast.

“And is that how a human male show his appreciation for his mate in return?” He rasps.

He scoops your plump form into his arms with ease and before you can even manage to hold on he’s plopping you down on the pile of furs that make up your bed.

He throws your body around like it’s nothing, flipping you over onto your belly and jerking your ass high up in the air. And you swear you’ve never been so desperate. You know he can see your glistening folds by his low growls, your arousal dripping down your thick thighs and onto the chains of gold he adorns you with.

You startle when you feel his hands cup your bottom, pulling the cheeks a part to make room for his big aching tip. You can feel how affected he is by this too as he smears his pre-cum into your slick, mixing them together and teasing you. Clearly waiting for your answer.

“Yes! F-fuck, yes they do,” you whine, rocking back into his cock and trying to take him inside you.

Just as eager as you are, your Dragon Husband slams into your wet scorching heat in one solid stroke. His hips slapping against your ass at the same moment his hand does. You release a pitiful scream, full of need. A need for more.

His hips move in a blur, pumping into your fat cunt at a brutal pace, spurned on by the act of spanking you. It drives you just as wild as you rock back, meeting his every hard thrust.

Obscene noises of pleasure fill the room as he fucks you like a beast unchained. The loud squelch of his massive length stuffing you full meets the loud ringing of his hand meeting your ass. Your toes curl as the delicious sting mixes with the waves of ecstasy that course through you with every jerk of his hips.

“Please, baby, please h-harder!” You beg, tears pricking at your eyes.

Your husband lets out a low hiss, his hand swinging down and delivering a hard smack on your ass. Your body surges forward at the force and you moan, body arching. The invitation more than clear.

“As you wish. My mate needs to know the true depth of my appreciation after all.”

With a renewed vigor, your husband picks up his back, pounding into your gummy walls with in-human stamina. His hands delivering blows in equal measure and his claws only adding to the sensation as they prick and tease at your skin with each smack.

The mix of pain and pleasure has the pressure in your belly growing tighter and tighter till you can’t take it anymore. The cord snaps and you don’t recognize the mewl that comes out of you as you cum so hard on his cock you see stars.

Your body shakes with the force of your orgasm and you lose all feeling besides the pleasure washing over you. You lay limp as your husband works you through the best release of your life. He cums deep inside your pussy with a roar that shakes your entire den.

The strength of his climax takes as much out of him as it did you as his tall form curls around you. Keeping his cock inside you to the hilt. Not wanting to put too much pressure on your red sore bottom.

Though He can’t stop himself from giving it a little squeeze, relishing the way you hiss and clench around his cock. His mouth hovers over your ear and his hot breath sends goosebumps down your arms.

“Think you got the message, mate?” He growls, giving your bottom one final little slap.

[cuddleprofiler]

FAINTING & FEVER - When you confess your deep buried feelings to your boss in your fever.

Summary: Hiding a fever? Check. Passing out? Check. Confessing your feelings to your boss? Wait woah?

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader, BAU x platonic!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: fever, fainting, rest is good I guess.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This was supposed to be platonic but I didn't feel like it is romantic :) This is my first time writing any non-platonic work. All the pics I have inserted are more clear when clicked if you want to see (Tumblr did something). Positive Criticism is welcomed.

"So, what are you ladies up to tonight?" Morgan asked while driving, his focus on the road. You'd just finished a case, and as usual, Morgan was eager to make plans before another case thrust you back into the world's horrors.

"Well," JJ began with a sigh, eyebrows raised, "I'm going to spend the whole day resting with my boys." She finished with her radiant smile.

"What about you, Prentiss?" Morgan glanced at Emily in the passenger seat.

"No plans yet, but who knows? I might have something by the time we land."

"L/N?" Derek called out when he realized you hadn't answered, lost in your own world.

You sat beside Spencer, staring out the window, oblivious to your surroundings. The heat you felt was consuming every coherent thought.

"L/N?"

"Huh? What did you say?" you asked, turning your head so quickly that JJ and Spencer wondered how you didn't get whiplash. Your voice remained calm and soft.

"You okay?" Spencer asked, his hazel eyes filled with concern.

"Why wouldn't I be, Spencer?" you replied, mustering a small smile to maintain your façade.

"You just seem...down," he commented, studying you intently. You gave him another small smile, shook your head, and winced. Your head felt as if it had been struck by an invisible hammer. Spencer either didn't notice your wince or chose not to comment.

"You up for some fun tonight?" Morgan asked again, though you were barely aware.

"What fun?" you frowned. The way he said "fun" made you think it might not be the kind you'd enjoy.

"Seriously, sweet girl? You're spending way too much time with Reid. I'm talking about bars, drinks, and if you get lucky, then maybe—" Morgan started with a Cheshire grin, while your eyes widened.

"No," you said in a high-pitched tone, embarrassed at the thought of hooking up with a random guy when you already loved someone.

"What do you mean, 'no'? Come on. We don't get many days off, L/N. You should enjoy them when you can."

"Morgan, I can't," you said, shifting uncomfortably.

"And why is that, sweet girl?"

"Hey! Garcia will take offense if you call someone else 'sweet girl,'" you said with a smile, appreciating his use of a nickname for you.

"Nah. My baby girl will never be offended by this, and you're not just someone else," he replied confidently.

"But answer the question, sweet girl," he prompted, aware you were avoiding it. He assumed your hesitation was due to your reluctance to go out, knowing how you and Reid felt about drinking and socializing.

"I've got some work to do, Morgan. Also, I'm tired," you said, leaning your head back.

Morgan's expression changed instantly.

"Go straight home when we land, Y/N, not to Hotch's office. Whatever files you have to work on can wait. If I didn't know him better, I'd say he's making you do overtime."

"Exactly. Hotch will understand, and there's no need to tire yourself out," Spencer added softly.

Their concern warmed your heart. "Of course, gentlemen," you replied, amusing the others.

The conversation drifted back to their plans while you gazed out the window, watching amoeba-shaped clouds float slowly across the sky. The view was therapeutic, but you didn't tell them how awful you were feeling.

When you woke up that morning, it felt as if hell had descended upon Earth just for you. Your muscles ached, protesting and begging you to return to bed, but you couldn't. Lives were at stake, a case needed solving. Now, the muscle pain had given way to a headache and constant zoning out.

You longed to get home as soon as possible, yearning for your fluffy blankets to engulf you completely, save for your head. You hoped your phone might end up in a ditch for the day, allowing you to remain in your cozy cocoon until you felt well enough to face the world—and potential case calls—again.

Soon, you arrived at the airstrip, where Emily and JJ surrounded you.

"So, where's your mind wandering today?" Emily asked with a mischievous grin. Before you could answer, JJ chimed in.

"In dreams of Hotch, of course. Right, Y/N?" You quickly shushed her, glancing around to ensure no one had overheard.

"JJ, Emily, we're at the airstrip," you whispered urgently. "Someone might hear you. It's supposed to be a secret. Sometimes I think you and Garcia are determined to let Hotch find out." You began trudging toward the plane, feeling drained.

They both laughed and high-fived.

"We do want you two together," Emily said.

"You should tell him yourself," JJ added. "Besides, if he overhears by accident, it'll only speed up your love life."

"By the way, Y/N, will you only go out with us if Hotch is there too?" Emily teased.

"Guys!" you groaned as they laughed.

Your crush on Hotch had started early in your tenure, initially based on his looks. But it deepened into something more profound, to the point where his well-being affected you deeply. You felt terrified when he faced dangerous situations. That's when you knew you were in trouble.

There was no way he'd fall for someone who could barely speak to him. You had your reasons for avoiding him. The days leading up to this decision were hellish. Never had you stumbled over your words as much as you did then. And what did he do?

He always gave you a patient look and nodded softly, encouraging you to speak your mind. It was manageable until you started losing yourself in his eyes or staring at his face constantly. After that, you ensured you were never alone with him except when working on case files. You began doing this so he could go home early and rest, reasoning that a few extra files wouldn't impact your time.

You were startled from your reverie by the memory of Garcia suggesting that Hotch might like you too. You still don't believe her, but a girl could hope.

"If it gets too much, I want you to pull out."

"Sir?" you asked, confused, looking up from your gun at your boss, who was surveying the team preparing to ambush the unsub's house.

"Everyone has off cases, L/N, but with time, most of us have learned to deal with it. Still, we pull ourselves out when needed. You're still new. So, pull out if necessary. Do you understand me?" he said, now looking at you, his gaze sweeping over your shorter form. You looked up at him intently, lost in his eyes until he raised an eyebrow. You could have sworn you saw his eyes soften slightly.

"Yes, sir."

"Call me Hotch, Y/N." With that, he walked towards the rest of the team as you hurried to catch up.

Back at the FBI building, you dashed to Garcia's lair. She was your first friend, and you both had a tendency to ramble about various topics. Sometimes Reid joined in. As soon as you saw her, you hugged her. Hugging Garcia was like therapy—you could feel your worries, guilt, and other negative emotions leaving your body. You felt yourself relax, your body lighter. You called it "Garcia magic”! It was an added bonus that Garcia was fond of physical affection.

When you told her about Hotch's words and your feeling that he was worried and all other incidents where he acted the same—though you thought that was impossible—she flashed her beaming smile, all her white teeth showing. Her eyes, however, held the amusement of knowing something you didn't.

"I didn't know sweet cheeks, he cares for you this much." Garcia mused, clearly pleased by what you'd shared.

This much? And what do you mean?" you asked, your curiosity evident.

"Hmm hmm. He looks at you the same way Will looks at JJ. He's so soft with you and he isn't like this with anybody. Maybe except Jack of course."

“Garcia there’s no way in hell he likes me. Maybe he was trying to be sweet.” you asked her trying not to get your hopes up.

This is a paradox. You are sure. Damn sure! Garcia began laughing while you gave her an incredulous look. She didn’t stop until you threw a teddy at her. “My sweet sweet girl, Hotch is never sweet with anyone. Ask Emily about it if you are unsure but nope nada in my so many years of being at BAU, he’s never sweet with anyone.”

"Maybe you are overthinking this Garcia. Hotch and I don't even know each other.”, you mumbled looking at your hands in your lap.

“That is an argument I will have with you on another day but what I'm saying is that Hotch likes you.", she says with a small almost sad smile.

"If you want you can observe him. You're a profiler baby. Yow will know.", she added gleefully.

Henceforth, you observed Hotch as profiling team members was off-limit. He had a tendency to smile at you softly and he didn’t offer others the same amount of options that he did to you , but you attributed this to being new. You were certain he'd show his more authoritative side once you were no longer considered the newest member. Definitely!

Lost in these thoughts, you suddenly felt your vision blur and your surroundings distort.

"Whoa! You okay?" Emily asked as she grabbed your forearm, while JJ held the other. They exchanged concerned looks when you didn't answer immediately. You shook your head slightly and replied,

"Yeah, yeah. Just slipped."

They didn't seem convinced but didn't press further.

"Be careful," JJ said, patting your shoulder.

"Yeah, of course," you mumbled, trying to regain your composure.

Hotch and Rossi chatted as they walked, their conversation drifting from Jack's football to other topics. Before they knew it, they'd arrived at the airstrip. As Hotch boarded the plane, he froze in surprise. You were seated next to his usual spot—an unexpected sight, given your habit of avoiding him outside of group settings or work situations. Your presence there felt nothing short of miraculous.

Not wanting to give Rossi a chance to tease him, Hotch quickly sat beside you. He was certain you hadn't noticed his arrival, as you were deeply engrossed in the case report—something you rarely worked on during flights.

His attention shifted back to Rossi when the older agent began discussing plans for a pasta dinner. From the corner of his eye, Hotch caught you glancing up, offering both him and Rossi a small smile before burying yourself in the file again. It was odd, considering the report wasn't due for days.

He didn't want to finish it quickly, knowing an empty home awaited him. No one would be there to greet him—just silent walls. Jack was on vacation with Jessica's family for the next few days, leaving Hotch alone in the city. He stole another quick glance at you, resisting the urge to look more often.

Hotch was sure he would never fall in love again after Hayley. He loved her from such a young age and so much that loving someone else felt betraying the love he had bestowed upon Hayley all those years. Even after getting a divorce, he didn't stop loving her completely. Sometimes, he liked to believe they separated not because they fell out of love, but because their love was so intense that their arguments became too painful. However, he knew this wasn't the reality. He sighed and pulled out his file.

His thoughts soon drifted to you. Lately, contemplating love inevitably led him to think of you. Sometimes you don't know what hit you until it does. Falling in love with you was the same. He was falling in and never realised until the day he got a letter. From you.

Hotch had slowly fallen in love with you. That was the truth of his life, he stayed away from for a long time. How could he stay away when your every action seemed to win his heart anew? Each time he learned something new about you, he fell a little deeper.

You were a sweet addition to the team. It didn't mean you were all the time sunshine. Everyone learnt that the hard way. He mentally chuckled at the fight you and Morgan had over dark chocolate to the extent you were ready to beat him black and blue. However, your sweet gestures towards everyone on the team always warmed his heart.

He reminded himself to remain professional. After all, he was on a plane with a group of profilers who could decipher his feelings in minutes if given the chance.

"L/N, can you tell me about the—"

"L/N?" Hotch called out again, surprised you didn't hear him the first time. Still, you didn't reply. Rossi also looked up.

"Y/N? Y/N!" He said, touching your shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah. What happened?" You looked like a deer caught in headlights, making both Hotch and Rossi confused.

"Nothing happened. I was just asking you about the case," he replied, looking at you. You were looking...different. It was as if every laugh and joy had been drained from your life.

"I'll be right back," you said, standing up and moving before Hotch had a chance to stop you.

The moment you stood up, you knew you shouldn't have done that. You were far better sitting down. Now the pounding in your head intensified, along with the feeling of being shaken up to the point where you could see everything oscillating. You tried to keep yourself still, hoping your surroundings would become normal.

The next thing you knew, everything went black.

Hotch saw you swaying and moved instinctively. He caught you, one hand on your waist, the other on your shoulder, trying to keep you up while you were dead weight. However, it wasn't as easy as it seemed in the movies.

"Y/N? Y/N. Hey, wake up!"

"Y/N!" He squeezed your body against him.

However, his yelling got him nowhere. You didn't respond, lying still in his arms as if you were taking a nap. Hotch would have believed it if he hadn't seen you go down in front of his eyes.

"Y/N," he called out again, softly this time, yet the response was the same. He swept your hair back from your face.

Unable to keep you up, he gently lowered both of you onto the aisle. He moved his hands to your shoulders, gently shaking you, but you showed no sign of waking up.

He didn't notice anyone else until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Rossi sitting beside him, looking alarmed by the happenings. Morgan was above your head. The rest of the team was also hovering.

"What happened, man?" Morgan asked while taking the sweater Reid offered and putting it under your head.

Hotch didn't answer. He himself didn't know what was wrong with you. One minute, you were standing and the next plummeting down like the apple which led to the discovery of gravity. His hand went to your cheeks, where he felt the heat radiating. His frown appeared and deepened as he touched your forehead.

"She's burning up!" Hotch said worriedly, still keeping his tone full of calmness while his heart was trying to beat out of his chest. Having a fever is one thing but passing out from it is entirely another. He couldn't help but feel the small burning sensation in his chest at the thought of being ill, even if it was a fever.

You could hear people talking, but why would there be people at your home? You scrunched your face and blinked your eyes multiple times before fully opening them. Everything was blurry at first, but soon it became clear, along with the horrible pounding in your head. You tried to sit up, but a firm pair of arms pushed you back.

"Hey Bella, don't try to get up. Stay still."

"Wha-what happened?"

"You fainted," Hotch said. The rest of them had dispersed, knowing Hotch would take great care of you and that a crowd wouldn't help much.

"I don't feel good," you groaned, your hand massaging your head.

"Yeah, I gathered that much. Tell me what's exactly wrong, L/N?" Hotch had your hand in his, rubbing it softly to ease the pain in any way he could.

"I don't feel good," you mumbled again with half-closed eyes. You were mostly disoriented from what Hotch could figure out.

"You have a fever."

"I do?"

It was taking you time to gather what was happening. He blamed the fainting and fever. It took you time, but you slowly opened your eyes fully when you noticed Hotch still sitting at the edge of the sofa. He still held your hand, and your legs were on his lap. Being in touch with him felt like second nature; you didn't even notice until you opened your eyes. You quickly tried to pull back your legs and hand, but Hotch stopped you with his hold.

"Don't move so much, Y/N. Relax," his voice soft and calming, as always.

You sat in silence for the rest of the journey, which wasn't very long. You were clutching onto his forearm as he helped you sit up to go home. When you came outside the plane,

"Hotch, I can go home by myself," you began, your voice small, hoping to regain some of the dignity you lost after fainting in front of your entire team.

"Y/N, you can't stand straight, and you want to drive home by yourself?" Hotch asked with a raised eyebrow.

"There are other ways to be suicidal than this, sweet girl," Morgan quipped, walking beside you, not that you noticed. You looked up at him and then at Hotch, concern shining in both of their eyes.

"I'm not joking," you huffed.

"Neither are we," Morgan said.

"Y/N, it's final. I'm taking you home," Hotch ordered. That's what it felt like to you.

Hotch had an arm around your waist, supporting you as your body threatened to collapse. He hurried towards your apartment, aware of your rising fever. He couldn't give you medicine without food, but he was grateful for your unfiltered speech—it revealed the extent of your discomfort.

"You know, Hotch?" you began as he fumbled with the door. You leaned against the wall for support.

"Dahlias are my favourite flowers. They symbolize change, dignity, and elegance."

"They're native to Mexico, right?" he replied as you entered the apartment.

"Yeah! You know about them?" you asked, turning your face abruptly.

"Easy, honey. No sudden moves," he cautioned. "And yes, I've picked up a few facts over the years."

"I've always loved them. So colourful, bright, and beautiful," you laughed softly.

Hotch had never heard you speak so freely. He found himself enchanted by your voice, certain you could rival Reid in flower trivia.

After settling you on the sofa, Hotch fetched water, fruit, and medicine. You tossed your shoes aside and reluctantly took the pills, groaning as you slumped back.

"You should change into something more comfortable," Hotch suggested, removing his own shoes.

You looked at him, startled. Realizing his phrasing, he quickly clarified, "I mean, you should put on some comfy clothes."

At his insistence, you changed. When you returned, Hotch had shed his coat and tie, his shirt partially unbuttoned.

"Aren't you going home?" you asked, confused.

"I'll stay tonight, in case you need anything."

"There's no need, Hotch. You must be exhausted from the case. Go home and rest. I'll be fine."

"Y/N, it's better if someone's with you tonight. You fainted on the plane. I wouldn't be able to relax not knowing how you're doing," he admitted, his voice soft.

You smiled at his thoughtfulness and curled up on the sofa with a blanket and pillow. You both decided to watch Star Wars.

Partway through the movie, you turned to Hotch, staring intently.

"You know, Hotch?"

"Yes?"

"I love you. Like, really, really love you," you said with a lopsided smile.

Hotch froze, completely still. He hadn't been this motionless since he first held Jack, afraid of hurting his newborn son. He never imagined you reciprocated his feelings, but he knew if he didn't get the conversation going right now, he not going to know about your feelings when you are not loopy due to medicine.

“Yea?”

"Mm-hmm. You're so wonderful and adorable and just... so cute. Yeah, you're intimidating at work, but the rest of the time? Totally cute."

"Oh, am I?"

Though your tongue was loosened by the medicine, you were more lucid than you let on. Having suppressed these feelings for so long, you couldn't stop now that you'd started. You wanted to tell him everything—him about all those feelings that you shouldn't have about him but you do, how couldn't help but fall for him slowly and every day seeing him made your day.

He was so handsome! His pretty dark brown chocolate-coloured eyes are swoon-worthy. Whenever you look into them, you feel hypnotized, unable to look away from them but not being present in the time; you often find yourself lost in them, forgetting his words as you gaze at him. Right now, he was looking directly at you, and you were drowning in his gaze.

How does he not realize the effect he has when he looks at someone like this?

Hotch's smile grew with each word you spoke.

"You're so handsome, ridiculously handsome. Have you seen yourself under that table lamp? You look like some movie hero poring over case files."

He blushed and glanced away at your flood of compliments. You cupped his face, turning it back to you, your eyes wide and intent. His smile made your frown melt into the biggest grin he'd ever seen on you. You looked beautiful.

"I just really like you, but I know you don't like me," you said, your voice small.

He frowned at your words.

"I love you too, honey, but I'll give you the full answer when you're well enough to remember it. Word for word," he replied softly.

You squealed with delight.

"You aren't just saying this to spare my feelings, right?" you mumbled a few moments later.

He cradled your face in his hands. "I would never say such a thing just to spare someone's feelings, Y/N. I love you. More than you can imagine."

Your questioning continued throughout the movie, but you refused to turn it off.

"You must have had many admirers in college. How many girlfriends did you have?" you asked, your head resting on his shoulder while his hand on your waist pulled you closer. Both of you kept your eyes on the TV.

"I only had one."

"No, you're lying. You're far too handsome to have had only one girlfriend your entire life."

'You can become the second.'

"What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything, sweetheart."

"Did you just call me sweetheart?"

"You're imagining things, L/N. It's a common symptom of high fever. Of course, I didn't call you sweetheart, honey."

"Oh, but I—you just called me—"

"What?"

"Never mind. I must be imagining it."

"Yes, you're definitely imagining things."

[kalims]

⋆ too drunk to recognize your boyfriend

feat. third years of diasomnia

malleus

"I.. have a boyfriend,"

to an extent. the guarded, suspicious look on your face would have concerned malleus to no belief, to others. he wouldn't have bat an eye whatsoever, but it's you so the feeling crawls up his spine and clouds his heat. he can't help the slight nudge of offense clouding his face cause you definitely shouldn't have any reason to make such a face to his.

the more his arm reaches out towards you—to ground your swaying form perhaps, the more you seem to be inching away from him. which shouldn't make sense at all! "child of man?" he murmurs. dropping the attempt to console you, to which you squint at him. back pressed against the front door to his dorm.

"who are you?!" you point at him, and he blinks. mortification spreads in his head. you've.. accumulated amnesia?!

malleus' fingers clench around the fabric on his chest, just after he had retracted the outstretched limb in fear of frightening you even more. there's a certain stiffness to his hand that illicit a drop of sweat from his forehead. him? he's your mal?

if he had the nerve to cry, he would.

but of course, you remain a priority. you exhibit unnatural behavior. no one just forgets important details in a day! you especially, won't forget about him! and he won't let you, ever.

you sway. your eyes darting around, and squinting like you're struggling to focus on one subject of your attention, a factor that might affect it is the fact you keep looking around instead on settling on something, preferably him. and, malleus is torn between steadying you, or him.

he chooses you.

despite your half hearted protest that audibly makes him sulk more, he twists the door to the dorm open and ushers you inside. not too much of a struggle, if anything, you seem lighter, and he almost actually hauled you around with minimal effort.

"must be a good night," a voice purrs, malleus doesn't have to glance at the source to know that it's lilia. years spent with the man does wonder with familiarity. it took him a couple of decades to get used to him. strangely enough he feels like he's known you longer, despite not.

the statement makes the taller male frown. lilia though, keeps the tiny smile, now tickled with a hint of amusement as the rubies shift from your blubbering form to malleus' face. oh? he's upset now. lilia muses. it's easy to ascertain his boy's move, like a sixth sense.

so lilia decides to probe further. "no? your face tells me otherwise."

malleus huffs a little. one of the habits he never seemed to grow out of ever since he learned to keep his... more draconic traits at bay. "you are less than accurate with your assumption," his eye twitches, either torn between distressed or irritation. despite the conflicting behavior, he still manages to treat you with a gentle hand while leading you towards the couch.

"it is a very terrible day." malleus continues. sad enough to complain, but fond of you enough to take the hint from your apparent cautious behavior towards him. lilia almost laughs when he spies him gloomy, sitting on the far end, away from you.

the lightning strikes just as the clouds roll in. lilia peers behind the curtains, chuckling a little at the weather.

well! he just hadn't seen malleus moping around this much since, what? when that gold trinket wouldn't fit in his tower anymore? "why so, my dear?" lilia coos, positively charmed by the 'adorable' disposition.

of course, he already knows. he'd heard your exchange moments ago.

lilia retains the easy look. "the child of man has forgotten about me," malleus explains. looking more stressed by the second. "whoever has done this, will pay." from a sad, faraway look to rage suddenly. "I beg of you, please return them." then switches back...?

he has half the mind to pretend like you're never gonna return normal but decides against it.

"of course!" lilia chirps. "they'll be well by tomorrow."

and, malleus looks like he had been holding the world by his shoulders seconds ago, a sigh of relief.

the next day, you're not sure why malleus is introducing himself in concerning detail. do you really need to know what color his assigned blanket was when he was given birth to...?

lilia

if anything, he's really the one who enabled your behavior.

"just one more." , "oh my, need another?" , "you look like you need it, come on now, don't be shy, you only live once~"

concerned, silver steadied you as you wobble on your feet. babbling about some nonsense under your breath which only illicits the boy to cast a disapproving glance at lilia (who only wears an amused smile).

"seems like they had quite the night." a cheery comment from the latter, and silver makes no move to resist when he moved closer with silent steps, then pries you to his side inside with a gentleness that would prove that he isn't.. actually the reason for your state, but not really.

lilia cooed, like he'd coddled them before. silver thinks but it is so distinct from the way he used to coax them into bed. "time for bed."

you peel your eyes open, squinting with a crease between your brows. you tug at your arm, of which doesn't really budge but lilia decides to humor the struggle so he lets go and raises his brows. "I'm not a kid!" you say, then turn your head to the side—like a kid.

oh, so adorable. lilia croons, swooning inside his head for a bit. how he'd like to simply hold you for hours end...

the romantic monolog of his daydreams though, is interrupted by you once more. ironic since you were the one he was just day dreaming about.

"oh, my. is that so? how lucky of me." he chooses to say instead.

silver sweatdrops. glancing between your hazy... anger maybe? it's not really anger in all honesty, just bordering. then to the lax demeanor his father exhibited. a glance would find normality in it, but he hasn't seen him pick on someone so...

he doesn't know the word for it, perhaps insisting on bothering a singular person as much as he can?

you gasp, snapping your head to silver. cause apparently you recognize him, but seemed scandalized by lilia's presence. "silver! protect me!"

amused, lilia watches you scurry back behind the boy.

"there's nothing to protect you from..."

"there's a man!"

"I'm a man too..."

"there's a bad man!"

your head peeks out from silver's confused frame, lilia's head follows the action. tilting to the side as you eye him hilariously warily. hmmm.. so very cute. "I'm an innocent, only wishing to steal my beloved." he replies, with a usual lightness. though the usual relaxation you had around him is replaced with irritation.

"you can't steal me away, my boyfriend and his children will strangle you."

lilia shares a look with silver. where did they get the idea of... such violence?

silver shrugs. not a clue, he seems to reply back, committed to just remaining a bystander even if he's technically in the middle.

"is that so?"

you nod vehemently, a more open vulnerability clear on your face than before. you point to lilia (well, technically you don't actually know its him! or maybe you're just playing with him?) squinting, accusing at all with him at the end of your pointer finger. the male only raises his brow, and flashes you a cheeky smile.

lilia contemplates playing with you. as in, replying 'why don't you guess?' because knowing you, even in this state you'd probably tell him: "how would I know?" then proceed to guess anyway.

you would have a cute expression, perhaps. but he isn't so cruel to the point where he would waste time—time you could be using to rest instead, preferably get sober, remember him when you wake up, and return to your lovey dovey self.

alright. maybe not lovey dovey on some days but he would definitely prefer that than you using his son as a shield against him, like the boy could actually hold him back.

well, it is technically his fault... but lilia had all the intentions to care for you if you ever got too drunk, he'd hold you up if you were too unsteady, guide you away from possible fiends, and make sure you recovered well the following morning.

but, this definitely didn't enter his area of expectations.

"yup!" you cry. "he might be short, but he can kick butt." for someone who's heard many arrogant words, he's never seen one who says one thing—a threat in your case, then you proceeded to cower behind the nonchalant silver.

you nudge silver.

silver blinks. "um... that's correct."

you glance back at lilia. as if to say I told you!

"so... he will kick my... butt?" lilia hums, indulging in using the world. goodness, good thing sebek is not here. that boy definitely would've kicked you out for endorsing such foul language.

he feigns a look of horror, to his amusement you seem to brighten.

simply adorable...

long story short. you seem to believe you've truly scared him off when he disappears.

concerned even more, silver watches you welcome lilia back with a dreamy sigh. like... you actually recognize him as your lilia, and not the guy you were just... threatening to bite the curb.

this is absurd... I should just rest... silver sighs.

lilia only beams at the showering affection.

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader read thirst tweets

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

warning: a little bit thirsty, as expected <3

The cast settled into their seats as the crew finished setting up the cameras and lighting.

“Why am I more nervous for this than any of the other interviews?” Madelyn laughed, straightening up her dress. The cast had already done a handful of different interviews for the third season of Outer Banks, the famous (or infamous) “Thirst Tweets” the last on the docket.

“No I am too, babes.” Y/n said, shaking Madelyn’s leg playfully. The three girls, Madelyn, Madison, and y/n, sat in front chatting while the boys, JD and Drew, were getting their hair “refreshed” before they began shooting.

“Alright, so here are your tweets,” one of the crew members said, handing each of them a phone preloaded with tweets of varying degrees of horniness.

“Oh my—” JD started to shout, but was cut off when Madison elbowed him.

“Don’t start yet!” Madison giggled, resting her phone in her lap, a blush already rising in her cheeks.

“Ok, you guys good?” The cameraman asked, shooting the cast a thumbs up.

“Yes!” The five of them shouted in unison as the camera began to roll.

“Alrighty, take it away… Madelyn.” The secondary camera operator focused on Madelyn, who looked down at her phone.

“Ok, this one is pretty straightforward: ‘Madelyn Cline is a mother’.” Madelyn giggled.

“Not just ‘a mother’, ‘mother’.” Madison corrected, causing Madelyn to shake her head bashfully.

“Ok, ok, Mads you go.” Y/n said, elbowing Madison lightly.

“‘Madison Bailey please kiss me’...” Madison looked into the camera, a cheeky grin on her face. “Ha, ha… no.”

The cast laughed before returning to their phones, looking through their tweets.

“‘Jonathan Davis I am free tomorrow at 5 pm if you want to go on a date and hold hands! And… redacted, redacted, redacted’.” Jonathan read.

“Sounds… fun?” Y/n commented, glancing back at JD, an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, ‘it’s true. Drew Starkey makes me go feral’.” Drew read sheepishly, his cheeks flushing. JD started to make some sort of animal noise, Drew joining in, the two of them playfully going “feral” behind the girls.

“Y/n, does Drew Starkey make you go feral?” Madelyn asked teasingly.

“Not in whatever way they were doing.” Y/n stifled a laugh, turning back to Drew, who shook his head with a grin.

“Ok, sure. You go, baby.” Drew said, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Alright…” Y/n scrolled, looking for a good tweet before continuing, “‘y/n is so fine, like please ruin my life I beg of you’. Wow, thanks I guess? For letting me ruin your life?”

The cast laughed before continuing back to their tweets, each of them feeling flushed and flattered by the very kind tweets.

“‘Before I watched Outer Banks I always classified the rich as annoying and vowed I’d never simp over one…’” Drew read, “‘until I met Rafe Cameron and flew up his ass like a bat’?”

“‘Flew up his ass like a bat’?” Y/n asked incredulously, her mouth agape.

“If somebody walked up to you on the street and said that to you…?” Madelyn asked Drew.

“Marry me.” Drew said nonchalantly.

“Drew, I need to ask you a question—” Y/n began, but collapsed into a fit of laughter before she could get the words out.

“Can I ‘fly up your ass like a bat’?” JD finished, making eye contact with Drew before the two of them moved in for a dramatic kiss, falling away just before their lips would’ve met. The girls let out surprised screams, grabbing onto each other before laughing.

“‘I love my boyfriend with all my heart, I truly do, but Madelyn Cline can sit on my face she’s so beautiful’.” Madelyn read, a small smirk on her face.

“Wow, that’s a lot… real.” Y/n said. Drew’s head whipped up, a look of confusion on his face.

“Is there something you need to tell us?” JD quipped, causing y/n to realize exactly what she said.

“No, no, no,” Y/n chuckled. “Madelyn Cline is very beautiful, but I am still very much feral for Drew Starkey.”

“You’ve got a thing for Camerons?” Madison asked, Madelyn and Drew leaning in with mischievous smiles on their faces.

“Yep, yep, that’s it.” Y/n laughed, nodding into the camera.

“‘Y/n is so beautiful, Drew Starkey can you fight?’” Y/n read with a chuckle, turning to look at Drew.

“Yes, yes I can.” Drew said into the camera, his face completely serious.

“Drew wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Madelyn clarified.

“Oh no, no, I will. Trust.” Drew raised his eyebrows, wrapping an arm around y/n’s shoulders before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. The cast let out a collective “awww”, y/n giggling bashfully.

“‘Drew Starkey could rail me anyday. Respectfully’.” Drew chuckled nervously. Madelyn and Madison looked between each other, their jaws dropped.

“Once again, I’m flattered. But… that’s reserved for this one—” Drew grabbed y/n’s shoulder, shaking her playfully. Y/n immediately put her hands over her face, hoping to cover the flustered expression on her face.

“Oh my god.” Y/n mumbled into her hands, the other cast members bursting out into fits of laughter at Drew’s boldness.

“Alright, and cut!” The cameraman said, the cast letting out cheers as they got up from their seats. As they stood, y/n felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist before turning back to Drew.

“How you feeling, baby?” Drew hummed, grinning down at y/n cheekily.

“Flattered. Very.” Y/n giggled, pressing a kiss to Drew’s jaw.

“Well, a lot of those tweets certainly had some… good ideas.” Drew whispered.

“Starkey! You’re… too much.” Y/n felt her cheeks warm as Drew kissed her languidly.

“Am I wrong though, baby?” He teased.

“Let’s see when we get to the hotel.” Y/n said, stepping away from Drew and grabbing his hand as they made their way out of the studio… but she had a feeling they probably weren’t going to make it to the hotel.

[drluvsick]

𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐬

you hand make them a replica of themselves in the form of a plushie! 📝 gn! reader. btw relationship is mutual pining. would’ve made the headers as the hashira’s plushies but… coloring would’ve been ughhh. maybe i'll post it separately!

word count : 1.6k+

𝐆𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐈 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

“for me?” he’s surprised before it melts into a smile. with the plushie in hand, he rolls it around feeling the details from his hair to outfit, getting a general view of what it could look like.

“this is very kind of you. i will cherish this for the rest of my life.” he puts a hand on your head, gently petting you as you hug him in return. he’s happy at the action, his large body engulfing yours as he hugs you back. you’re relieved that he’s blind so that he’s not able to see your blush, but with your heart beating unusually fast and loud, you’re sure he can hear it and deduct it himself.

gyomei thinks that perhaps you may hear his heart beating abnormally as well in the moment.

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈

he thinks it’s perfect. would’ve added more glitter, but then he thinks that maybe it’s better off that the entire plush isn’t covered in the tiny monsters. (he held the gift for a few seconds and then BAM, glitter EVERYWHERE on his hand)

he loves how flashy the doll is. it seems to shine and sparkle even in the dark of night.

he obviously treats you to a shopping spree or restaurant “date” with him after (after both of you furiously wash your hands from all that glitter).

absolutely takes mini tengen with him when he’s with you. you both brainstorm ideas for him and his little comrade to match outfits (off to the fabric store!).

this small gift secretly makes him scream inside. when he gets home from the interaction, you BET he’s going to be humming the entire rest of the day, unable to sleep because his thoughts are all filled of you.

𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀

so surprised that you would give him a gift. why would you want to waste so much time in giving him something? something you handmade, to be precise? he asks this, and when you reply saying that you just wanted to, he swears he fell harder than before.

he’s beyond happy, though. you get the grace of seeing him unconsciously smile at the present as he notices the attention to details. how much time did you spend looking at him to remember all these features? the thought makes him a little lightheaded.

you’re too sweet to him, he thinks. now whenever he’s feeling down and you’re gone, he holds the little plush to his heart for a small sense of comfort that helps him to live another day. and he doesn’t dare take it on missions or anywhere, really. he’s too afraid to lose or destroy something you worked so hard on to make for him.

god forbid you tell shinobu one day that you made a plushie for giyuu. she’d never let him get away without teasing him for actually getting someone to like him well enough to make something for him.

will subconsciously hide behind you when she does start with the teasing as you softly grasp his haori sleeve, making his heart flutter tenfold at the small action.

𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐈 𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

(you’ve seen his face without the bandages)

when you hand it to him, he’s on cloud nine. you even made kaburamaru! the snake seems to appreciate it, happily leaving obanai’s shoulders to rest on yours instead.

he practically begs to take you somewhere as thanks and to spoil you, because this gift from you has his face heating up and he wants to draw your attention away from it. and when you do agree (albeit reluctantly), his snake looks at him with a “lmao dude you’re freakin’ whipped”.

while walking, he notices that the bandages on the plushie are removable, asking you if it’s intentional.

“see for yourself,” were your words as he reluctantly removed them. he saw the bottom of the face littered in scars almost identical to the ones underneath his own bandages, with the words on the side of the bandages covering the doll’s face reading: “you’re beautiful, scars or no scars. and from what you’ve shown me, it’s the same on the inside.”

he swears that he could just faint right there and then.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀

“tsk, what is this?”

you smile as he inspects it; watching his lips twitch, fighting the urge to curve upwards. “it’s a plushie of yourself.”

“you made this? for me?”

“yep!”

he looks anywhere but at you, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand as warmth bristles through; his ears turning red as he says, “it’s nice, i guess.”

“just ‘nice’?” you reply back, teasing his quick response. “maybe i should’ve just made a plushie for someone else, liiike… giyuu.” you grin, aware of the facade he’s pulling.

“don’t you dare. it’s amazing, i love it.” he spits out gruffly, but wholly truthful. “…thank you.” he thinly smiles, if not for you observing him you wouldn’t have noticed it.

“aww, you’re welcome!” you snicker.

he turns his head the other way, his face beginning to feel uncomfortably hot.

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎

his plushie literally radiates sunshine, just like the original himself. when he receives it, he shouts the loudest thank you you’re ever going to hear.

talks about all the details and how much it embodies him. he adores it. then he asks if you could make one of you, so that they could be a pair together (AHHHH).

hugs you so tightly that you start to sweat from his body heat. but he means well!

eats with the plushie when you’re not with him. it reminds him of who made it and it just makes his food taste 100x better.

probably keeps it in his pocket and shows it to people like, “look what (y/n) made for me! :D” so that now so many people know who you are.

and when you make that replica of yourself for him? he just can’t get enough of how adorable it is. keeps it with him in his pocket too, it makes his day so much better whenever he sees it because it just radiates you.

𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐈 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐈

squeals, she’s just so so so happy. her face turns this cute red and all she can do is just smother you with a hug because of her overwhelming excitement.

she dances around with it at first, screaming about how cute you made it and absolutely loving how you designed the doll to be just like her. you got her into the whole craft business, her new determination to make a doll of you to present to you! she hugs you one last time before rushing off with her new plan.

she quickly realizes that if she gives… whatever she made in her first attempt to you, it’d come across as an insult. so she spends countless days and nights (in between missions, of course) to perfect her gift to her beloved. and when she finally does…

…she gives it to you like a child showing their parent their artwork, except mitsuri’s present was better than just any children’s project.

she’s so giddy when you praise her for it, finally able to collapse from exhaustion when she gets home. but when you kiss her on the forehead, she knows that there’s no way she’s going to get a blink of sleep, especially not when that moment keeps replaying in her head throughout the rest of the day.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐔 𝐊𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐎

she’s calm and collected on the outside, having an emotional breakdown and desperately trying not to just tackle you and hug and kill you with kisses on the inside. her logical mind prevails unfortunately.

she dearly thanks you for the gift with the sweetest soft tint of pink on her face.

she takes it for walks around her estate, visiting patients, and when she needs to calm down. it just takes a few minutes with the plushie in her hands for her to think of you to become more relaxed.

she doesn’t take it in her lab, though— worried that something might happen to it. so instead, during those periods, she keeps it in her room in a secret place that only she knows about, because she’s a little paranoid that something may end up destroying it with all the people in the estate and all.

the next time you’re out on a mission? expect a parcel from her delivered by crow with your favorite (non-perishable) food, some trinkets and items you might enjoy, and a note that vaguely suggests her true feelings towards you.

she secretly prays that you’ll take the hint and ask her out.

𝐌𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐎

(reader is either same age or muichiro is aged up)

despite his flawed memory/memorizing issues, muichiro does a huge effort to not forget the plushie you gave him.

he’ll write himself notes, bring it with him everywhere, and he finds himself replaying moments with you and daydreaming in his mind more often about you with the doll around.

definitely falls asleep with it gently in his arms, held close to his chest. it helps him fall asleep faster and more comfortably knowing that something resembling your presence was so nearby.

his crow’s definitely jealous by this btw. but she respects you both so she doesn’t lay a claw on the plushie.

one day when you find him hugging the plushie close to him as he was walking around his estate, you decide to go up to him and hug him from behind. let’s just say, he got a lot more clingy after that, hugging the gift at night tighter to try to replicate that warm feeling your hugs always gave him.

overluvsick | please do not repost, translate, and/or claim my works as yours !!

[peachsayshi]

// brutally soft // I.

baby daddy!sukuna x reader

tags: non curse au; fluff; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different | wc: 1,653 | read this for more context

note: I hope I got the honorifics right lol please correct me if I didn't

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

You didn’t think it was possible for a five year old to render you speechless, nor did you think she was capable of making your former lover blush the deepest shade of tomato red. You part your lips in surprise, stunned as you look down at her innocent expression. She’s sitting on your living room floor, her face perched on her palms with her elbows resting against the coffee table. Her wide eyes drift between you and Sukuna sitting on the sofa, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she tilts her head slightly out of intrigue.

“Mama?” She presses, begging for an answer.

Your mouth moves but no words come out. You’re trying to formulate a proper response that’s palatable for her, one that will be enough to subdue any further questions.

Except you’re not quite sure how to answer: “why don’t you and daddy ever kiss?” without making her pry even more into your history with her father.

Sukuna runs his large palms back and forth nervously over his thigh, the muscles on his inked forearms tensing up.

“We kiss,” you fib, because what else are you supposed to say, “of course we do!”

Your daughter’s face falters, and she quirks her brow as sassily as her father when they both mirror the same expression to look at you.

You glance back at Sukuna, giving him an awkward smile because at least you said something all the while he just sat there. 

“No, you don’t…” your daughter insists.

“Yeah, yeah that’s right…we do…of course, we do…” Sukuna pipes in with a mumble, finally catching on to your attempts as he reverts his attention on to his precious girl.

“I’ve never seen it,” she points out with a pout, scolding her father playfully in return.

“That’s because we don’t do it in front of you,” Sukuna remarks. “Besides, who wants to see their parents kiss?”

His daughter rolls her eyes, “all other mommies and daddies do it, except you guys. It makes no sense…”

She’s got the tiniest voice and the softest lisp, but her attitude is entirely her father. She’s bold and blunt, never afraid to say exactly what she’s thinking or to point the obvious.

“Oji-san kisses oba-san in front of Shiro…” she mumbles, dropping both her hands onto the coffee table and crumpling the paper that she is using to draw her little family portrait.

At the mention of his younger brother Sukuna can’t help but grimace. Yuji was incredibly affectionate towards his wife, wearing his heart on his sleeve entirely which just makes Sukuna grumble with annoyance. He’s always been a little envious of his younger brother, who never had to face the world as harshly as Sukuna. With an eleven year gap between them, Sukuna witnessed his parents becoming actual parents. They were young when they had him, and therefore had no clue what it took to raise or take care of a child. Sukuna was caught in the middle of their relationship for most of his childhood, all the while Yuji got to see the peaceful harmony once they finally made up.

“I’m just saying…” your daughter adds on, “…it’s weird.”

You breathe out a sigh in defeat, knowing full well that she won’t let go of the subject until she gets some consolation.

So incredibly stubborn just like her dad.

Without considering the repercussions, you reach your hand out and clutch Sukuna’s chin delicately between your fingers. You tilt his head towards you, noticing the slow register of your touch wash over his face as you lean up to kiss his cheek.

However, you misjudged your aim, because Sukuna tilted his head down in return, and you wound up leaving a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth instead.

Your lips lingered for only a few seconds, three to be exact, before you retracted and turned towards your daughter.

“See?” You insist, holding onto Sukuna’s chin like it’s evidence between your fingers. “We kiss!”

Your daughter’s mouth forms into a line, clearly unimpressed. The older she’s getting the more she’s picking up on the little things that you guys were hiding so well.

But it’s still way too complicated, and you and Sukuna haven't even discussed how to approach this yet.

“I guess,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders, before returning to her drawing.

You didn’t even know that Sukuna has his focus still locked onto your lips tuntil you turn to look back at him.His gaze is soft, the muscles of his handsome features melting between your touch. There’s a hint of sorrow that twinkles in his eyes, and when you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth apologetically, you notice that you left a lipstick stain in your wake.

“Sorry,” you mouth, and carefully use your thumb to swipe over the mark.

But your heart seizes quickly, your spine growing still when Sukuna mildly inches forward like he’s about to go in for another kiss.

You remember what it was like to kiss him. He was an exceptionally good kisser, even though he probably doesn’t know it himself. You’ve spent hours losing time locked against those lips, allowing his tongue to taste every last drop of you.

There’s a twitch in your chest, everything around you going quiet. Heat pricks the back of your neck when his lips draw just a breath away from yours, and you swear to yourself that he grazed over your mouth with a featherlight touch.

But Sukuna stops suddenly, catching himself.

“Be right back,” he whispers, his voice dipping so low you can’t help but clench your thighs together.

He shoots up from his seat, detangling quickly as he brushes you off, and leaving you to stare aimlessly at his broad back and overbearing muscles. Your sofa suddenly appears a lot larger with all that free space.

You press both hands to your cheeks, licking your lips as the apprehension runs through you as a cold chill. You can’t even remember when was the last time you kissed the father of your child, but you didn’t think that such a small act would have such a lingering effect.

You thought you were over this. Over him. That chapter was closed a long, long time ago.

You look up at the cause of this unexpected interaction, your daughter’s short attention span keeping her focused on her doodle while she hums to herself.

Sukuna returns with his head held high a few minutes after, and plops down on the sofa with his weight prompting you to bounce lightly in place.

That’s when you felt it, a hint of cold hitting your brow like a tiny droplet of rain.

Your furrow your brows then notice that your Sukuna’s hair is actually damp, with little tears trickling down the back of his neck.

The tips of his ears are still burning red.

You part your lips in awe.

Sukuna is a master at making you blush. At making any woman blush, frankly. But you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen that reaction on him.

It stuns you how much it suits him, and surprises you even more of just how cute he looks trying to hide it.

“Daddy, can you help me?” Your daughter asks, finally focusing back on the two of you while her finger draws out an outline of what appears to be two arms.

“Whatever you want, Princess…” Sukuna responds, and obediently gets up from his seat.

He perches himself on the floor, the size difference between him and your little girl doing nothing to help the sudden hammering in your chest.

He’s so, so gentle with her.

She crawls onto his lap, holding the sheet of paper in her hand, before setting herself back up while sitting on his thighs.She points to the drawing with her index finger, “I don’t know how to draw your tattoos…”

Sukuna chuckles, a glimpse of his smile making you to scratch the warmth off the back of your neck.

He picks up a black pencil, “you’re a better artist than me, kid,” he states honestly, “not quite sure what I can do to help…”

She wraps her arms around his neck, leaving her dad to carry on the effort.

“I’ll explain the shapes and you draw it!” She says with a kiss to his cheek.

It’ll never cease to amaze you how easily he bends to her will. Sukuna had no interest in any of this, and was obstinate in every sense of the word. Nothing could turn that man into a docile cat except when it comes to your little girl. He’s present with her, this part of him just so different, and even after five years it still feels a tad unfamiliar.

There’s a slight tightness in your throat because this is all you wanted when you were together. After the break up and surprise pregnancy, you didn’t realize how hard he took it when you told him that you have zero expectations of him being involved in your daughter’s life. You were just informing him out of moral obligation, but something switched on inside him after that.

It may not have been for you, but he made that change for her, and seeing them together now, you recognize just how much that man loves his little girl.

That fact alone makes you undeniably happy.

So happy you wish you could give him a real kiss for it.

Your daughter moves to pat his head in gesture of a good job as Sukuna follows her instructions to the T, but her faces scrunches with disgust when she threads her fingers between his locks.

“Daddy, why is your hair wet?”

Sukuna brings his free hand to massage the back of her scalp, “Pay attention to the drawing, missy…and stop asking so many damn, I mean uh-darn questions…” he responds, leaving a kiss on her brow and doing everything in his power to make sure that he avoids looking back at you.

tag: @selarina @yuujispinkhair @blush-bambi @tojislittleprincesss

[obsesssedblerd]

i live for your girl dad! sukuna may we please have a little more? 😭💕

oh, you're in luck anon. just finished typing this one <3

--

Sukuna’s daughter had been wailing for the last half hour. Maybe even longer.

He tells Uraume to finish preparations, then walks back in the direction of your shared bedroom. He finds you there, pacing back and forth while trying to soothe your baby with light shushes and comforting humming. You look tired. Lately, you haven’t been getting much sleep. 

“She’s still crying, even after all this time,” he says from the doorway. “Is she sick?” 

“Oh, no,” you reply with a small, exhausted smile. “It’s just that… She knows you’re leaving.” 

That makes him pause and raise an eyebrow in question. “What?” 

You elaborate. “She cries when you leave for business, and she doesn’t sleep as easily until you return.” You look down at your daughter, who had begun reaching her little arms towards Sukuna the moment she felt his presence in the room. “Proof that she’s my daughter. It doesn’t help that she can feel that I am also sad.” 

Though his expression remains as stoic as ever, Sukuna’s heart pings at your soft confession. Before he knows it, he’s walking towards you. “Here.” He gently takes the small, wailing girl and holds her against his chest, her cries immediately softening. Her tiny hands grip his kimono, as if she were begging him to stay for a little while longer. You sit down on the bed, and when you yawn, Sukuna tells you that he’ll put the baby to sleep, then exits the room, taking the hallway that leads to the garden of his large estate. 

By the time he’s outside, his daughter’s no longer crying. She stares up at him, her big crimson eyes still pleading to him. Sukuna sighs, slowing his steps when he reaches the garden’s trail. “You surprise me, brat,” he tells her. “Before you were born, I was convinced that you, like most babies, would be frightened in my presence.” 

His daughter tilts her head in what he thinks is confusion, as if saying, ‘But you’re my father. Why would I be afraid of you?’ He scoffs, then wraps her in the baby blanket he brought with him. “You need to sleep, little one. It’s late. I am certain that you are tired.” 

Sukuna remains quiet as he continues walking through the moonlit garden, and it doesn’t take long for the baby’s eyes to shut. Once her breathing steadies and he knows that she’s asleep, he exhales once, thinking of your words earlier. “Proof that she’s my daughter. It doesn’t help that she can feel that I am also sad.” 

He didn’t know that you missed him that much whenever he was away on business. 

When Sukuna returns to the room, he carefully places his daughter in the bassinet next to your bed. Since the baby blanket still has his cursed energy on it, she’ll find comfort in it until he returns. Then he sees you, fast asleep in the bed. He covers you with the blanket, then gently strokes your cheek. I’ll be back soon, he thinks to you. Finally, he quietly closes the door, then makes his way back to Uraume. 

“Lord Sukuna,” Uraume greets him with a dip of their head. “Is the little princess alright? Does she need anything?” 

“She is fine, but we shall make this quick,” he says. “My wife and my brat prefer when I am home, so the faster I can return to them, the better.” 

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Can someone please write a fic about that one scene where stiles grabs Derek’s face in magic bullet.

Where although he was out of it Derek could feel stiles fingers trail across his face. He could feel how softly and careful stiles was in that one moment. It had been the first touch from a human, from anyone, that did not cause Derek pain.

And when Derek wakes up he’s just obsessed with being touched by stiles again because he remembered how good it felt, how finally someone touched him and it didn’t hurt. Derek refused to wash his face for like three days after this because stiles had unknowingly scent marked him, and he couldn’t make himself get rid of the scent. How it made Derek feel like he wasn’t alone.

This action makes Derek’s wolf believe that stiles is pack, (stiles is the first pack Member!!) and he just keeps ending up in embarrassing situations trying to get stiles attention and his hands and him.

He probably just ends up blurting it out at stiles one day. Or maybe after killing Peter, he just get handle the weight of being alone, of killing the last member of his family, of being touched by Kate, of being hurt.

So he drags his body to stiles house and just gets on his knees and begs stiles to touch him, to make it stop hurting.

And stiles knows how hard it is to lose a family member so he does. He doesn’t think this will happen again, he just understands that Derek needs comfort. But Derek comes back over and over again and every time begs stiles to touch him. And stiles does, every time.

It becomes a comfort thing for the both of them, stiles running his fingers over the planes of Derek’s face. Derek gets to relax in the one place he’s safe, listening to stiles humming or muttering and the beat of his heart. It becomes a need, but soon stiles touching Derek isn’t enough, Derek wants to touch stiles. He wants to return the favour, he wants to scent mark stiles back. So everyone will know that stiles is claimed, that he is protected by an alpha who would kill for him. And he gets the chance to on the anniversary of stiles mother’s death.

Stiles is just so tired, his dad is working, will be all night. Scott is with Allison, and stiles doesn’t have the energy to beg him to pick him tonight. So he goes to Derek; Stiles isn’t really sure what this arrangement that he and Derek have but tonight he is the one who needs. He drives to the hale house and ends up sobbing by the time he gets there. He’s just sitting in the jeep in front of the hale house and he can’t move. And suddenly Derek is there.

Derek was already worried when he could hear the engine of the jeep pull up but when it turned off and all Derek could hear was stiles crying, he moved without thinking. He yanked the driver side door open and his heart broke. Stiles was sitting there trying to calm himself down, rubbing the tears from his face but nothing was working. So when stiles turned his head to him, eyes pleading and whining, Derek picked him up and carried him bridal style into the house. Derek just holds him for hours, memorizing the way stiles feels under his fingertips.

In the aftermath Stiles makes one joke about being a blushing bride (due to the blush on his face and being carried bridal style) and Derek is just hit with a vision of being married to stiles. Of being about to always be allowed to touch stiles and blue screens. Unfortunately Derek wolf takes this as expressed agreement that stiles is mated and married to them.

Derek buys rings the next day. Sure it takes him a few more years to propose but it’s the thought that counts. (Cocky Derek hale who flirts with stiles by calling him his pretty little wife, just to see stiles blush a pretty pink for him. But one day stiles responds that he doesn’t have a ring, so Derek just gives it to him.)