#but with childe i want to lock him in a cage and poke at him with a stick till he cries

[ticklystuff]

omg hi it’s been ages and i totally forgot about those chili hcs but yes this is the same anon! i stopped play genshin for my own sanity but the universe said gacha hell be upon ye and dragged me back screaming to star rail instead 😭 the childe -> aventurine pipeline was too real lol

-🌻

OMG HELLO glad to see you’re still around and hope you’re doing well! happy for u that you could escape genshin (pls take me with u) but also happy we’re in another fandom again (maybe it’s not a good thing for you idk lol)

AND YES i got major childe vibes from aventurine (and so did all the other childe mains) we love our traumatized pretty boys here

[starboye]

pairing: kj apa x male reader

request: What if he gets his boyfriend pregnant for real 🧍‍♂️ like mpreg 🧍‍♂️ like magical mpreg 🧍‍♂️ 😁Aaaand his boyfriend calls him to tell him the good news while he’s mid-workout at the gym-Aaaaand so he comes home to fuck the shit out of his boyfie :D sweaty and all because uhhhh musk :D

warnings: smut, cursing, rough sex, breeding, male pregnancy, sweat kink

chef's note: idk but i kinda like this one

you and kj had been trying for a baby forever now and you were absolutely ecstatic when the pregnancy test finally came back positive, you felt like you were on cloud nine, you were finally carrying his baby in you, almost to excited you almost forgot to call kj so you ran over to grab your phone, you were shaking with joy as the phone rang and finally you heard kj answer it "hello" he asks and you could hear the panting in his voice from the workout he was doing.

"i'm pregnant" you basically yelled "really" kj asked almost jumping with happiness in the middle of the gym "yes yes" you say "ill be home in 5 minutes" kj says before hanging up the phone, he sprinted out of the gym and to his car and sped home, you waited with the test in hand and as soon as kj busted through the door you were wrapped in each others arms "oh my god i'm gonna be a dad" kj yelled picking you up and spinning around in circles.

"i think this calls for something special" kj says looking at you with a grin across his face "yeah, like what" you ask "maybe me fucking you" kj says lifting you up and bringing you to your room where he drops you on the bed "strip" kj demands and you take off all your clothes and so does kj "you smell so good" you say inhaling the scent of his musky body "that's the smell of a real man" kj chuckles with cockiness in his voice.

kj then pulls you into a deep kiss, you moan into his mouth as his finger poke at your hole "gonna leave you gaping" kj mutters pushing you onto the bed, your legs dangling at both his sides and he plants himself in between your legs, he leans down and spits some saliva onto your hole before leaning back up to rub it in with his dick "you ready" kj asks and you nod eagerly awaiting his thickness.

he slides into your loose hole with ease "shit still so tight even after i fucked you this morning" kj says grabbing your hips to pull you further onto his dick "ill always be tight for you" you smile "don't smile at me like that or i'll have to fuck you dumb" kj grunts trying to resist going to rough with you as your now carrying his child "don't be afraid kj just fuck me" you beg wrapping your legs around his waist to lock him into fucking you.

"are you sure, i don't want to hurt you" kj asks "ill be fine" you reassure rutting against his dick, and that's all kj needed to hear before he pounding into you at an ungodly rate, it felt like your walls were being constantly abused by his thick cock "fuck me kj, i love your dick so much" you moan out wanting to give kj all the pleasure he wants "i'm gonna fucking fill your tummy with so many kids, ill have you pushing out triplets in nine months" kj grunts slamming his hips into your with so force.

"i love your dick so much" you continue to moan "you want me to fill you up some more, be nice and big for me, carrying my children and ruining this pretty body" kj questions caging your head between his big arms "please i want your cum" you beg, between the scent of sweat, sex, and musk plus the constant abuse to your prostate it felt like you were in heaven (or about to be sent there) "well let me give it to you" kj says.

kj grips you hips tightly which will definitely leave bruises for him to kiss and apologize over later and slams you on his dick matching his thrusts before he spurts his cum into you, and you could feel his dick twitch and pulsate against your walls "wait" kj says as he looks around in the night stand and finds your butt plug before he pulls out of you and quickly plugs your hole "gotta make sure it stays in" kj says as he lays down next to you.

"you're gonna be such a good dad" you breathlessly say kissing his cheek "no we're gonna be such good dads" kj corrects dragging you into his arms and cuddling you tightly while rubbing you belly "we'll see in nine months" you say smiling.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m

[womanofwords]

On Display

TW: dehumanisation (to a degree), human being treated like a pet, humiliation, and torture.

Villain was a trophy. Nothing more than a spoil of war that Hero had picked up when the battle was over. Quite literally picked up; Hero had draped them over their shoulder and carried them to their new castle. Their protests were silenced by a hard smack to the ass.

"Hush your mouth and cease your struggling, brat," Hero said. "You'll be well taken care of with me."

From then on, the former villain spent their days as a pet. They wore fancy outfits that Hero chose and literally dressed them in, not even allowing Villain the privacy of dressing themselves. A collar was clipped around his neck that, instead of displaying their real name, read the word TROPHY. They ate the food that Hero gave to them without complaint. The last time they had refused to eat a meal, Hero force-fed him.

As Hero's pet and living victory trophy, Villain often found themselves being put in humiliating positions for the purpose of being displayed to people coming to meet Hero. Villain was often seen by Hero's subordinates kneeling next to Hero's chair as Hero toyed with the leash attached to Villain's collar. Sometimes, much to Villain's humiliation, Villain's hair would be braided in front of them as Hero called them degrading pet names such as 'Hero's little trophy', 'darling pet' and 'handsome little baby doll'.

One time, Hero had picked Villain up and put them onto their lap like a parent with a child. Literally no different than a lap dog. When Villain attempted to protest, a lollipop was shoved into their mouth. "That's going to stay in your mouth until it's all gone, pet," Hero ordered.

Hero's favourite thing to do to Villain was to lock him up in a literal gilded cage on display for their underlings, who would all take the time to pet and coo at him when they weren't at meetings or performing tasks for Hero. Villain wasn't just contained by way of a locked door, but also by handcuffs above his head that pulled his arms upwards. Teasing hands would pinch his face, ruffle his hair and poke his sides as he squirmed with impotent rage. He was literally a pet. And nobody mocked Hero's pet.

One day, Villain got a lucky break when Hero dressed them and took him downstairs. "Where are we going?" Villain asked.

"You're going to meet your old friend again after such a long time apart," Hero said, taking them into a dank basement. Villain clung to Hero's arm when they heard what sounded like a growl. "It's OK, precious, I know you want to stay close to owner. Owner will protect you from the nasty things in here," Hero cooed, making Villain want to be sick with shame.

Hero led Villain further into the dark room, groans echoing around the human pet's ears. Then the pleading started.

"Food."

"Water."

"Medicine."

"Why are they so sad? What's happening to them?" Villain asked.

"They're staying here forever," Hero explained. "This is what happens to anybody that displeases me."

Villain looked at the faces that he could see. "None of these people are my friends," Villain said.

"I know," Hero said, as he took his precious pet further in. He stopped at one that stank of dried blood and human waste. He tapped on it. "Come out, Supervillain," Hero called. "I have someone you might like to see!" Villain whimpered as the name rang bells in their head.

Supervillain.

Their leader.

They had been beaten and starved, ribs straining against their bruised skin. Ill-fitting rags threatened to slip off their now pathetically thin frame. "Villain? Is that you?" they asked, pressing themselves against the bars of their cell to get a better look.

"Yes, it's me," Villain admitted, tears running down his face. This was what Supervillain had been going through this whole time?

"This is what happens when you go against me, Villain," Hero said. "In time, all my enemies end up under my control. I was going to do the same to you, but then I saw potential in you. A sign that you could be far more than mere dungeon rot."

"Long story short, it's a good thing you're cute, Villain." Hero petted Villain's head before leading them away from the underground dungeons and towards their quarters, locking the door behind them as weak protests drifted towards Hero's apathetic ears. Once the two were alone, Hero grabbed Villain and whispered something into his ear.

"I bet they'd love to be you."

[lunarmoonanons]

Chapter 36: The Experiments

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

Masterlist 

The stares were the worst thing for Daniel. The neverending stares from the doctor terrified him. The experiments were also bad, it was always some form of pushing Daniel to an extreme emotion that made him lash out and hurt something. He didn’t want to hurt people, he wanted to be a good person. But the strange doctor seemed obsessive about pushing Daniel to his extreme and making him lash out with his quirk.

That was what he was doing now. Daniel was sat in an empty looking room with a window on the wall. There was noise ringing loudly in his ears and no matter how much Daniel begged for it to stop, it only got louder.

“Please… please stop…” Daniel whispered as he held his hands to his ears. His eyes started to go gold covered and wept out tears.

“If you want to make it stop, you have to make something destructive. Radiate the object in front of you.” The cold voice of the doctor spoke over the speakers.

“I don’t want to… I want my sister…”

“If you want the noise to stop, if you want to be good enough to see your sister… you have to do what I say.” The voice was apathetic. “You have to do this. You don’t want to be stupid do you. You don’t want to be a dumbass now.”

“Stop it…”

“You’ll never see your sister again if you-”

“STOP IT! LEAVE ME ALONE!” Daniel shouted, his rage mixing with his quirk and causing the stuffed object in front of him to crumble then burst into a dozen tiny pieces. The pieces on the ground vibrated and radiated with residual energy left in them. It was a pretty little toy and Daniel had wanted to keep it, but now he had destroyed it. The voice gave out a few claps over the speaker and sent in two men to place the quirk canceling cuffs back on him.

But when they placed their hands on him, one fell to the ground immediately. Poisoned by the radiation coming off of the boy, who remained shaking on the ground. The other man stepped back from the boy, and immediately looking to the window for guidance. When no sound came out, the man steadied himself activating his strength quirk and grabbing the boy who glared at him. There was pains shooting up his hands and arms from the contact with the boy. Eventually he got the cuffs on the boy, cutting off the pains coming from the boys radiating skin. But the remains of the toys still radiated and shook from the residuals.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the room.” The man said, dragging the boy back to his caged room.

Once he was back in his room, Daniel remained seated on the bed petting the small cat Lula that was taken with him. They poked and prodded at him, taking samples of blood and saliva. After they were done, he waited in that room for what felt like hours. Until eventually the strange large man came back into the room. The one who claimed he was his father.

“Hello Daniel. I heard you had an outburst today.” His voice was smooth and strange.

“I wanna see my sister…” Daniel muttered, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“Oh I know. I know you feel alone here, but I can’t bring her to you just yet. Right now you have a purpose for me, and I need to make sure you fulfill it. As your father I want what's best.” The tall man stepped forward, Daniel barely looked up to see that the man had this black helmet covering his head.

“Not calling you pop.. not my…”

“Then you may call me All For One. But I must insist that you are stuck here with me.” The man then turned and left the room, locking the door behind him.

~~~~

Else where.

The stranger with the Hello Kitty mask sat in front of a screen as they spoke to a familiar red haired teen. He did seem to like the pals Snow was laying out for him, but Snow knew better than he and was tired of being second guessed.

“Listen, you might not like it but you have to work with him.” Snow sighed.

“There’s no way I’m working with him. He’s the reason YN is gone.” Kirishima snarked back.

“Listen here, child. I know what is going to happen. I know where your friend Bakugou is being kept. So I need you to work with Midoriya and get him back. Creating a distraction while the heroes do their thing. It leaves me with a window to grab Daniel and hopefully YN.” Snow rubbed the mask that sat on their head.

“But-”

“No Buts! We have one chance at this apparently and according the story that’s being laid out, we need to do this while you rescue your friend. I will do the heavy lifting.” Snow snapped and pointed their finger at the screen. “You have to what I say. This isn’t the only story I need to pay attention to. Will you do what I say?”

There was a pause then Kirishima looked back up. “Will you be able to save them?”

“I’ll get them to a better place. I promise.”

“Then I’ll do what I can.”

once again a little cameo from reoccuring character @i-cant-sing​

[saetoru]

[ 𝟐:𝟒𝟔 𝐀𝐌 ] 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍.

“mammon!” you shriek, soft giggles airing through the room.

“i told ya i’d eat ya,” he chuckles, nibbling on your cheeks as he hovers over you, hands pinning yours above your head to keep you caged. “‘m gonna devour ya if ya don’t take it back.”

it’s late, and mammon should be asleep if he wants to pass his exam tomorrow—and he really needs to if he doesn’t want to be held back—but he thinks he’ll take the extra grogginess in the morning if it means hearing the sweet sound of your laugh like this.

“not…gonna take it b-back!” you say between fits of laughter. he stares down at you, stares at the way your cheeks widen as you smile, as your eyes crinkle and your lashes cast a shadow over your skin.

and maybe if he had to pick, he’d say his favorite part about you is this—the human and fragile part that makes his heart ache, the part that makes him feel like you need him, the part that makes him realize every little moment means something when you don’t have centuries to live.

“oh yes ya are,” he scowls, “nobody insults the great mammon and gets away with it. ‘specially not some human,” he moves to bite at your other cheek, tongue swiping across your skin and making you gasp.

“ew, mammon,” you whine, “you’re gross.”

“bleh,” he twists his face, eyes glinting with playfulness, “ya taste rotten. ain’t no way anyone could eat ya.”

“how rude,” you huff, poking his chest with a pout on your lips. and for a second, he almost leans in to kiss it off. “i’m delicious. you have no idea what you’re saying.”

“i’ve tasted humans in my many years,” he says matter of factly, “i know plenty.”

“that’s why i said you’re old,” you snort, “you even have the white hair to prove it.” your fingers ruffle through the snowy locks atop his head, and he leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed as his cheeks burn a little with heat.

“h-hey! i told ya to take it back, not say it again,” he grumbles, and this time, it’s his turn to pout. “the great mammon’s also the most handsome. a-admit it, go on.”

you smile, and he doesn’t meet your eyes. and he’s starting to realize this is a bit of a compromising position—he really hopes no one walks in or he’ll never live it down. his face is just inches above yours, and it wouldn’t be hard to close the gap between your lips, to feel your warmth and get a taste of you.

“you are handsome,” you murmur, no hints of teasing in your tone, just honeyed smiles laced with truth. he gulps, looking down, avoiding your gaze as your hands gently pry free from his grasp. and he’s almost certain you can feel the heat of his cheeks as you cup them.

“h-hey, what do ya think you’re d-doing,” he huffs, furrowing his brows and pretending to frown, “s-stop that, i ain’t a child.”

if you notice him lean into your palms despite his words, you say nothing—and he’s grateful.

“no, you’re an old man,” you giggle, squishing his cheeks together. mammon thinks if he weren’t immortal, you’d kill him right here—and it’s not the worst way to go, he thinks, basked in your touch as your scent floods his senses.

in fact, if he had to go, he thinks this would be how he’d want to.

“quit callin’ me tha—” you cut him off with the press of your lips, making his eyes widen before they flutter shut, pressing firmly against you as your thumb rubs his cheek.

and mammon’s lived a long life, he’s felt the familiar lull of hands over his skin, he’s tasted lips that mold against his over and over, but nothing’s quite ever felt like this. no one has ever left his skin warm like the sun resides in your fingertips, and no one’s lips have fit against his like they were meant for him.

and then he wonders if you were made for just him, if he was always meant to fall and meet you here, if being damned like this was his own way of being blessed. so he kisses you, cups your cheek right back and let’s out a shaky breath against your mouth before he all but devours you whole.

“i love you,” you murmur when you pull away, forehead pressed against his. because mammon, under dark wings and large horns, under tough words and a rough exterior, under heavy sins and a tainted past, is the closest to an angel you’ve ever seen.

and when his body sinks into the mattress beside you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you flush against him, you think you’ve found a heaven built just for you in his hold.

“course ya do,” he mumbles with a cheeky grin, eyes bright and face warm, “and i love ya too, ya rotten human.”

© sakusins do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

[genshinluvr]

First Crush and First Love

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Everyone has a first crush and their first love! Whether it's a real person or a fictional character, the fifteen men (specifically Childe) are curious about who was the first one to have stolen your heart.

Note: Hello! Another late-ish update since I did have some things to do at my university. I didn't have much time to add some stuff to this week's story because of that and I did have essays to turn in for my sociology class and it took up a lot of time. Anyway, I don't know when I'll be able to get back to typing out a story that is around 6k words, it'll probably be a while because I am approaching the end of the semester very soon and more exams are popping up again. Unfortunately... ;v; This is a short-ish story, it's more of a filler. Anywho! To my new and returning readers, I post on AO3 as well, so, if you have an AO3 and see a work similar to this, it’s me (Aaliah_exo on AO3). I don’t post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None? Slightly sad on the reader's end, depending on how you view it. Maybe slightly angsty, but it's not too bad!

Word Count: 4.5k

Poke.

“Psst!”

You scrunched your face up and snuggled closer to your pillow, ignoring the light poke on your cheek.

Poke.

“Wake up!”

You pull your blanket closer to your face and turn on your side, still fast asleep. But unfortunately, that did not last as long as you’d hope it would. It was still early in the morning (it was 6 AM), and you were finally getting the entire night of rest that you very much needed.

“Psst! [Y/N]! Wake up!”

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

Your eyelashes fluttered as you were slowly coming into consciousness. Your eyelids still felt heavy, so you let your eyelids close to get more sleep. Seeing that you weren’t going to wake up any time soon, the person groans softly before continuing what they were doing.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

“Wake up, [Y/N]!” The person whispers loudly, continuing to poke you repeatedly until you let out a mix of a groan and a whine. You cracked your eyes opened and rubbed your eyes with the heel of your palm.

“What is it, Childe?” You mumble, looking up at the man that was hovering above you. His arms were caging you against your bed as he stared down at you with his eyebrows knitted together with concentration as he watched you reluctantly wake up.

“I have something important to ask you, and I demand that you answer them!” Childe states, pouting down at you. You stared up at Childe, completely ignoring his declaration while your eyes scanned his features. His ginger locks were disheveled, sticking all over the place, and he had a prominent pout on his face; he was also wearing nothing but sweat pants that hung very low on his hips. Dangerously low. You feel heat rush to your cheeks when you feel Childe poke you on the cheeks once more to grab your attention.

“Hey! Look at me and answer my question, will you?” He whines, tilting your face up with a small pout on his face. You could tell that Childe was fighting back a teasing grin. 

You huffed, “I am looking at you!” Childe cocks an eyebrow at your comment.

“You were looking at my body, not my handsome face, snookums!” Childe teases, poking you lightly once more.

“Well, you wanted me to answer a question you never asked?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I did ask you a question! But it seems like you were too busy drooling over me to hear what I had asked you.” Childe smirks.

You stared up at Childe blankly and blinked at him owlishly. Wait, did he really ask you something, or was he saying that just to mess with you? Knowing Childe, he wouldn’t tell you the truth on whether he did ask you something or not, just to mess with you. You huffed and looked away from Childe’s teasing stare, cheeks bright red. Childe chuckles and leans down, pressing a big sloppy kiss on your cheeks, making you squeak.

“Oh, snookums! You’re too cute!” Childe coos. He leans down and nuzzles the tip of his nose against your cheeks, arms still caging you against your bed.

“You’re quite affectionate today.” You sighed, too tired to push him off of you. “Now, can you please repeat the question that you asked me?” You scrunched your face up as Childe continued to shower you with kisses.

Before Childe could reply to your question, your bedroom door slams open, revealing fourteen men gathered at your bedroom door. Childe was immediately yanked off of you by both Xiao and Scaramouche. Electricity crackles in Scaramouche’s hands, threatening to zap Childe. Xiao’s hands were itching and twitching to get his polearm to shove it up of Childe’s ass for waking you up so early in the morning. And for touching you and putting his disgusting chapped lips all over you. Xiao wants to do nothing more than smack Childe.

“Why’d you wake them up!?” Xiao demands, glaring at the smug Harbinger. Childe crossed his arms over his bare chest with a shit-eating grin, ignoring the subtle and not-so-subtle glares that were shot in his direction.

“I had to ask them the question that you guys were too scared to ask them!” Childe huffs, pouting at them Childe-ishly. 

“And you decided to rouse them from their slumber just to ask them a silly question?” Dainsleif asks, glaring at the Harbinger. Childe nods his head; the pout on Childe’s face is replaced with a proud grin.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! It wasn’t a silly question! It was a question that we were all wondering about and needed answers for!” Itto spoke up, breaking through the crowd of men. Now that you have gotten a better look at all fifteen men, they were all still wearing their pajamas. Some were just almost naked (Itto).

“And what would those questions be? Childe wouldn’t tell me what it is!” You groaned, forcing yourself to sit up on your bed.

“I did tell you what my question was! You were just distracted by my sexy physique!” Childe shoots a wink in your direction. You covered your face with your hands, internally groaning at Childe’s constant teasing. You plopped back down on your bed and pulled the blanket over your head.

“It’s too early for this. Either ask me the question or let me continue my sleep in peace.” Your voice was muffled underneath the mountain of blankets you have on your bed. 

Don’t you get overheated from the number of blankets you have on your bed? Does the amount of blankets make it hard for you to move around when you sleep? The men never understood as to why you needed so many blankets. Not to mention the number of plushies that were given to you by the men themselves. 

Your first-ever plush in Teyvat was given to you by Itto. It was a cute stuffed onikabuto, and it can also be a pillow! Seeing the look on your face when you were given a cute giant onikabuto plush, the others have decided to get you a plush as well that resembles them in a way. It was really cute! But the number of plushies in your collection continued to grow until it got to the point where you didn’t have much space on your bed to sleep.

So, Albedo and Gorou have taken into account to build you a chest and shelf where you can place your ever-growing plushie collection. One plushie you have decided to keep on your bed was the damn jumbo-sized Rex Lapis exuvia plushie that you were gushing over a couple of months ago. Although the colossal Rex Lapis exuvia plushie wasn’t the only one you kept on your bed, it was also the onikabuto that Itto had given you. Strangely enough, you were pretty attached to these stuffed animals. Emotionally attached, might I add— much to the men’s dismay. Why couldn’t you be emotionally attached to them instead of being emotionally attached to a bunch of punchable stuffed animals that can’t fight back?

“We wanted to know who was your first crush and your first love!” Gorou says, his tail swishing from side to side with both excitement and anticipation. 

“My first crush and my first love?” You popped up from underneath your blankets and quickly came out from under the blankets.

“That’s right! We were curious about who was the first one to steal your heart.” Kazuha nods his head as he leans against your bedroom wall.

“What started this conversation exactly?” You raised your eyebrows at them, quickly fixing your bedhead.

“We were just curious about who this person might be,” Albedo says, shrugging his shoulders. You stared at Albedo and at the others. They seem to be at the edge of their seats, waiting for you to answer their burning questions regarding your first crush and first love.

An hour before you were woken up from your sleep by Childe, the men were lounging around in the kitchen, sipping on their tea and coffee. It was a quiet morning, everyone had woken up from their sleep earlier than usual, but that didn’t stop them from wondering about your private life before you appeared in their world.

“Do you think that [Y/N] has a boyfriend in their world?” Venti asks, blowing on the steaming hot coffee (thankfully, it wasn’t alcohol because who drinks alcohol at 5 AM?). Everyone in the kitchen paused at Venti’s question and looked over at him blankly; some were deep in thought, thinking about the answer to Venti’s question.

“Do you mean by [Y/N] being currently in a relationship or their past relationship?” Ayato asks, sipping his tea while sitting between Thoma and Zhongli.

“Hmmm… both!” Venti replies, placing his cup of coffee down on the wooden table in front of him.

“Well, [Y/N] hasn’t mentioned anything about a boyfriend or relationship when they’ve arrived in our world,” Thoma replies, crossing his arms over his chest as he gnaws on his bottom lip.

“I believe we never asked them about their relationship status when we first met them,” Zhongli spoke up, clearing his throat as he looked over at the others around him with his amber eyes. “Quite frankly, I believe that the topic has yet to emerge when we have a conversation with [Y/N].”

“Well, now I am curious about who could be this mysterious man that has stolen our precious [Y/N]’s heart.” Kaeya hums, stroking his chin.

Diluc sighs softly, “I believe that it’s best that we don’t touch on this topic. After all, if [Y/N] wants to talk about their relationship, they should do it on their own terms.” Diluc leans back in his seat.

Baizhu chuckles softly, “Oh? Are you not at least a little bit curious about who was the first one to steal [Y/N]’s heart?” He raises his eyebrows at Diluc with a small smirk on his face. Diluc sighs and looks away from Baizhu, lifting his cup from the table before taking a sip from it.

“It’s their personal life; I’d rather not intrude,” Diluc mutters, rolling his eyes. 

The others muttered to themselves, debating on whether they should agree to Diluc’s comment or pester you about your love life. Was there someone that stole your heart in your world? Did that person make you as happy as they did? There were so many questions that they wanted to ask you, but you were sleeping peacefully in your bedroom. They didn’t want to disturb your sleep just to ask you about your love life.

“Do you think [Y/N] had all of their firsts with that person?” Kaeya asks, tapping on his chin while squinting his eye at the thought.

“Firsts? What do you mean by firsts?” Scaramouche asks, leaning against the table, intrigued with what Kaeya was asking about.

“Oh, you know, first kiss, first date, first argument, first time…” Kaeya trails off.

“First time?” Dainsleif looks at Kaeya skeptically.

“Sex, he’s talking about sex!” Thoma comments, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning redder than his t-shirt.

Thoma’s comment woke everyone up; suddenly, they were more alert and awake. They began talking to one another, trying to figure out whether you had had all of your firsts with some other man in your world or not. Just the thought of you experiencing all of your firsts with another man that wasn’t them made them feel on edge.

“No way! [Y/N]’s not the type to have sex with someone they don’t know!” Itto exclaims, huffing loudly with a childish pout on his face. The men around him wince at the sheer volume of Itto’s exclamation, hoping that it didn’t wake you up from your slumber.

“And how do you know that exactly? [Y/N] could have been with that person for a few years before coming into our world, and they could have done many things with their potential partner.” Ayato sighs softly, shaking his head at Itto’s outburst.

“What if [Y/N] and their lover made plans to get married!?” Gorou panics, his eyes widening in fear.

“And what if [Y/N] was supposed to get married to their lover but didn’t get to because they were sucked into our world!?” Itto asks, tightening his grip around the mug so tightly that the glass mug shattered.

“My mug!” Thoma whines, getting up from his seat to grab a broom and a dustpan to sweep the shards of glass from the ground.

Zhongli looks over at Childe, who was oddly silent the entire time. Childe sat in his seat across from Zhongli, staring down at his now cold cup of coffee; his jaws were clenched shut. Childe crossed his arms over his bare chest, his index finger lightly tapping on his biceps. Childe looked tensed, almost jealous. Zhongli can see faint steam coming from Childe’s ears.

“Childe, you’re oddly quiet today. Mora for your thoughts?” Zhongli speaks up, looking at Childe with an eyebrow raised. Childe sighs to himself and shakes his head, looking away from Zhongli. “What’s the matter, Childe? Are you upset?” Zhongli asks, lifting his teacup before taking a small sip from the porcelain teacup. Again, Childe doesn’t respond to Zhongli’s question. Ayato sighs softly and shakes his head at Childe’s attitude. 

“It seems like the topic of [Y/N]’s intimate life upsets him,” Ayato murmurs to Zhongli, looking over at the former archon from the corner of his eyes.

“It seems so.” Zhongli hums softly. “The topic does irk me a little bit, but it seems like it irks Childe way more than it does with the rest of us,” Zhongli added, shaking his head.

“Does he think he has the chance with [Y/N]? He can wait in line like the rest of us.” Xiao muttered, huffing to himself. 

Scaramouche scoffs, “As if he’d get a chance with [Y/N]. He’s insufferable, and I believe that [Y/N] wouldn’t even breathe in his direction. Let alone look at him.” Scaramouche rolls his eyes.

“Well, we’re not too sure about that. [Y/N] is a little unpredictable.” Albedo spoke up, stirring his coffee with the metal spoon, deep in his thoughts.

“Out of all fifteen of us, who do you think [Y/N] would choose?” Kazuha asks.

“My, my. Why ask a difficult question?” Baizhu chuckles, shaking his head.

“Everyone here would choose themselves instead of choosing who they think [Y/N] would end up with,” Dainsleif muttered, shaking his head.

“Oh? Then out of fifteen of us, who do you think [Y/N] would choose?” Kaeya asks, propping himself up on the table, looking at Dainsleif curiously. “And don’t say yourself,” Kaeya adds, tapping his fingers against his cheeks. Dainsleif sighs and closes his eyes, leaning back in his seat, and takes a moment to think for himself. 

Dainsleif opens his eyes before stating, “Zhongli.” Everyone falls silent, stares at Dainsleif, and then glances over at the ex archon.

“Zhongli?” Kazuha blinks at Dainsleif, unsure of how he should react to Dainsleif’s answer. Heck, the others feel the same way as Kazuha! Other than feeling hurt and a little offended that Dainsleif didn’t choose him.

“Why Zhongli?” Venti pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Huh, is that so? What does Zhongli have that I don’t have?” Diluc’s eyebrows were furrowed as he tried to contemplate over what Zhongli could possibly have that Diluc doesn’t have. Was it the glowing amber eyes? The unlimited knowledge of the history of Teyvat?  

“Why choose Zhongli when you can choose me instead? I got muscles and horns!” Itto huffs; his bottom lip was jutting out, forming a pout.

“Care to explain as to why you’ve chosen Zhongli out of all of us?” Albedo asks, tilting his head to the side as he strokes his chin.

Dainsleif sighs, rolling his eyes. “Do I need to have a reason why I’ve chosen Zhongli?” 

“Yes,” Xiao replies immediately, staring at Dainsleif intensely as he waits for the blond male to give a good reason on why he chose the former archon.

Dainsleif sighs, “I’ve seen the way [Y/N] looks at Zhongli. If [Y/N] had to choose someone, they will most likely pick Zhongli.” He crosses his arms over his chest before continuing, “Out of everyone, it seems like Zhongli cares about [Y/N] the most. Yes, we all care about them, but Zhongli does it in a subtle way every time he sees [Y/N] or when he’s with [Y/N].” 

“Is it because he’s a former archon?” Scaramouche sighs.

“He’s an archon!?!” Itto screeches, looking at Scaramouche and Zhongli with eyes the size of dinner plates.

“I’m really curious if anyone had stolen [Y/N]’s heart before they were brought into our world,” Albedo mutters, squinting his eyes.

“Well, why don’t we ask [Y/N] ourselves?” Gorou offers, crossing his arms over his chest.

“[Y/N] is sleeping right now. We can’t wake them up just because we wanted to know about their love life.” Baizhu sighs, shaking his head in disapproval.

“It’s also still five in the morning. [Y/N] doesn’t get up until seven or eight in the morning.” Thoma commented, dumping the shattered mug into the trash bin in the kitchen with a small huff of breath.

“It’s best we let [Y/N] sleep and not disturb their rest with a bunch of questions,” Diluc speaks up, sipping on his cup of coffee.

“I agree.” Kazuha nods his head.

Unbeknownst to the men, Childe slipped away from his seat and crept up the stairs towards your bedroom as they were having a small discussion on how it’s best to let you sleep in and not disturb your rest. Childe approaches your bedroom door and grabs onto the doorknob; he gently twists the knob before peeking his head into your bedroom. Your room was dark; the only light that was illuminating your bedroom was the small shell lamp on your desk. It was cute and endearing. Have you always slept with a light on? Were you afraid of sleeping in complete darkness? Childe can see faint light shining into your bedroom through the crack of the window curtains.

Childe looks behind to make sure that no one is around to see him walk into your bedroom while you’re asleep. Satisfied, Childe walks further into your bedroom and quietly closes the door behind him. He hears the soft click of the bedroom door shutting entirely behind him. Childe walks towards your bed and slowly climbs onto your bed, careful not to wake you up. Usually, you were a light sleeper, but it seems like you were exhausted because you didn’t wake up to the feeling of the bed dipping as he caged you to your bed with his arms.

“How cute!” Childe coos internally, snickering silently to himself when he caught the sight of you slightly drooling in your sleep. Thinking of a way to wake you up from your slumber, an idea pops up in his mind. Childe pokes you in the cheek with his index finger, waiting to get a reaction out of you.

Poke.

Childe pouts and pokes you on your cheek once more. You didn’t react. Instead, you continued to sleep. Your chest rises and falls with each gentle breath, still fast asleep. Totally oblivious to Childe’s intent on disturbing your sleep to pester you about your love life. He was not going to stop poking you until you woke up and answered his (and the others) burning questions!

“And that’s how we’re here!” Venti smiles innocently. You run your hands through your hair with a sigh.

“Childe only woke me up at six in the morning just to find out who my first crush and first love was?” You cocked your eyebrow at the ginger Harbinger in front of you. Childe smiles at you innocently and nods his head.

“We didn’t think he would sneak off and rouse you from your sleep.” Zhongli shakes his head in disapproval, shooting a look at Childe, who ignored the look that Zhongli shot in his direction.

“Well, now I’m awake!” You sighed, tossing the blanket off of your body as you grabbed the onikabuto plush, hugging it close to your chest. “Guess that means I should answer the question now, huh?” You rubbed your eyes with a small yawn.

“Yes.” Xiao nods his head.

“Indeed.” Ayato hums.

“I need answers!” Gorou pipes up, looking at you with anticipation.

“We need answers!” Scaramouche corrects Gorou, looking at the male from the corner of his eyes with a tiny frown on his face.

“No pressure, of course!” Thoma quickly adds, giving you a small reassuring smile.

“Everyone is quite curious about what your answer is, might I add.” Baizhu gives you a smile.

“Oh, I know!” You snorted. “I can see it on all of their faces.” The men can feel heat rise on their faces at your comment. Each and every single one of their faces turned bright red and bright pink. You cleared your throat and scanned through your brain, trying to recall a memory of this so-called first crush and first love. The men watch your face closely, on the edge of their seats, waiting for you to say who was the first one to claim your heart.

“To be really honest, I don’t remember who was my first ever crush…” You scratch your cheek, your eyebrow furrowing as you try to think back to the earliest time of your life. “It was probably a fictional character instead of a real person.” You muttered, stroking your chin.

“A fictional character?!” The men exclaim simultaneously, giving you an incredulous look. You giggled at their reaction and nodded your head.

“Yes, a fictional character! In my world, all of you are just fictional characters as well. But since I am in your world, you’re all pretty real to me.” You give them a tiny smile.

“Okay, so, a fictional character is your first crush…” Scaramouche gives you a weird look.

“Hey! If I was in my world, you’re all fictional characters. Therefore, I do have crushes on fictional characters!” You huffed, looking away from them with a pout on your face.

“Oh? So you have a crush on all of us?” Kaeya teases you, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively. You feel your face heat up at Kaeya’s comment and don’t reply, continuing to look away from them.

“Well, I’m not denying anything.” You muttered.

“Okay, then what about first love?” Diluc asks.

You let out a sheepish laugh as you scratched the back of your neck awkwardly. How were you going to explain this to them? Would they make fun of you for it? Could this change their perspective of you if you were to reveal this information? Regardless of that, it’s too late to go back now.

“I… never had a first love.” You said softly.

“What?” Itto looks at you quizically.

“What do you mean you never had a first love?” Xiao asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Surely, you’ve been in a relationship before, correct?” Albedo asks. You snorted and shook your head at Albedo’s question.

“I’ve never been in a relationship before.” You answered, crossing your legs under you as you pulled the blanket into your lap.

“How?! You’re so cute, loveable, sweet, and everything I want in a lover!” Thoma exclaims; his cheeks were ablaze. His face was almost as red as his shirt after his exclamation. You give Thoma a small smile, trying your best to hold back a snort.

“In my world, people have this standard of beauty and what they want in a lover. I never reach these said requirements.” You sighed, leaning up against the wooden headboard of your bed. “I did have crushes, sure, but the feelings were never mutual.” You start fiddling with the onikabuto plush. Great. How were you going to explain all of this without bursting into tears over how pathetic your love life was? Or your lack of love life, to be more specific.

“I’m not considered desirable in my world. I’m not shaped a certain way, my skin tone is either too dark too light, my hair isn’t a certain texture or length, and I’m either too tall or too short.” You chuckled bitterly, shaking your head with frustration. “People don’t consider me to be attractive or desirable because I don’t fit the standard of beauty in my world’s society.” Your shoulders slump as you hug your knees to your chest.

Recalling these old memories and your insecurities made your heart clench in your chest. Even though strangers didn’t want you, your family didn’t even want you either. All they do is compare you to your cousins or siblings.

“Why can’t you be more like your brother?”

“Why can’t you be more like your sister?”

“Your cousin just graduated from a prestigious university today! When will you go to college and be useful for once?”

“Do you really think that people would want to date someone as undesirable and useless as you?”

You shake the thoughts away from your head, avoiding their intense gaze. You tighten your grip around your knees as you swallow the lump in your throat. Your throat and eyes began to sting with tears that were threatening to fall.

“I never had a decent relationship. All of these relationships meant nothing to them while I put so much energy into it while they did nothing at all.” You sniffled, biting down on your bottom lip. “From my “relationships,” I learned that I fall for people too easily and that I get taken advantage of very easily.” You whispered, gently tugging on the onikabuto’s antlers. “It’s easy to replace me and take advantage of me.” You hummed. Everything around you fell silent as you continued to stare at the purple onikabuto plush in front of you.

“Now you have your answer. My first crush is most likely a fictional character, and my first love is nonexistent.” You commented. You looked up at the fifteen men. Before you could blink, Venti, Itto, Gorou, and Childe tackles you down on your bed.

“Oi! Don’t you dare talk down on yourself!” Xiao hollers, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah! Don’t you dare say anything bad about yourself!” Itto buries his face into your stomach, tightening his grip around you.

“Those people don’t deserve you at all! They don’t deserve any of your love and kindness!” Gorou speaks up, gently cupping your face in his hands. He gazed down at you with puppy dog eyes as he wiped away the stray tear that made its way down your cheeks. You feel your bottom lip quiver at Gorou’s comment, tears blurring your vision.

“Stooooop! You’re going to make me cry! It’s too early!” You whined, gently hitting Gorou’s chest with your fist.

Gorou pulls you into his chest and pats your head gently. “I will be your first love.” Was the last thing the fifteen men think before they all surround you on your bed to comfort you, wiping your tears away while trying to cheer you up. The people in your world truly did not deserve you at all.

Note: Yea, so, it got a little depressing in the end, but that's okay! I know this is posted at like, midnight, but pretend this was posted on Saturday instead! I'm just hoping that I can type out something much longer next time! Even though I have a criminology exam coming up in like a day or two. I will start accepting requests very soon! I'm not sure when exactly. I got like two requests already on AO3 and on Tumblr, so I'm going to try to get something started for them very soon and we'll see what happens from there! For some reason, I can't tag a lot of people in the new beta editor... Anyway, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for "Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader" and my overall taglist: @plumpkie, @ehjane, @neilify, @jiminscarmex, @urcatbf, @emperatris-rinaka, @hello13576, @patata52, @dogloveri23, @permanent-antipathy, @xiaosfirstandlastwife, @angryhope, @xxkatsusjinsux, @stygianoir, @ksjjkthpjm, @emerald-smile, @jixlem, @bananazzzen, @skyelightwood, @honeybedo, @chaosinanutshell, @the-blob-fish, @the-dendro-archon, @crazyrichdaughter, @pencil-of-ashes, @hey-comrade-hold-still, @margraveth, @ayazaraxia, @samarill, @beepboopisguilty, @bakuhve, @mikiwylds, @jaisithebird, @mouchie, @jgydeservedbetter, @goldeneclipsedragon, @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff, @thedivinepriestress, @yukima,

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[workofheart]

promise

levi never thought he could have a peaceful night’s rest until he found himself in your arms

requested by: @thecaptainsbride​ 

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

wc: 2.5k

genre: fluff, canonverse, establishing domesticity

a/n: we had levi comforting reader, and now we have reader comforting levi :’) in terms of the request, i altered the timeline a bit but i think it still captures what you were going for! enjoy u guys <3

Levi isn’t used to letting people into his space.

In this line of work, he’s learned to be careful of the people he trusts to see his life from the inside. Not only to retain the secrecy and plans of the Scouts, but to protect his well being when he is so surrounded by death and destruction. A heart can only break so many times before it fails to beat at all.

That’s why, when the night comes when he finally decides to let you stay over, he’s tense. He observes your every step, unsure if he’s nervous or embarrassed or scared. It’s not skepticism, he knows, because he does trust you. You’re the only person he could possibly imagine him letting get so close to him with all that he’s experienced. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have let you enter in the first place; so for once, he’s going to have faith his own judgment.

You slowly pace around his room, peeking at the knick knacks Levi has accumulated over the span of his life so far. He has quite the array of stationary arranged neatly on his desk, and a curated assortment of pens and ink to choose from. Worn, loved books line the shelves of the wooden case, small pieces of paper poking out from the top. A nimble finger traces over the cracked spine of one with a faded green cover.

“Can I?” you ask, turning over your shoulder to see him. Levi is sitting on the edge of his bed, palms pressed tightly to his thighs. He takes a deep breath and nods gently in response, dark strands of hair falling in front of his eyes.

You carefully tilt the spine towards you and pluck it from its spot. Flipping through the pages, you can see how Levi has diligently underlined, highlighted, and starred the passages. Small notes in his delicate handwriting decorate the margins with definitions and insightful observations. This book has been well read, and you’re sure the others are just the same.

His room is fairly bare for how long it’s been his home, but how much of a home is it really if he’s always on the move with the scouts? Constantly between hotels, barracks, abandoned homes, or whatever else the world throws at them next, he hasn’t had time to make the space livable. They’re never in one place too long - this is more like a headquarters to come back to after the day is done. And for Levi, the day is rarely done, even when the sun has set and the sky turns dark.

It’s strange, but he almost likes having you here. To him, it’s always been just a room. A simple, stupid box in a line of other simple, stupid boxes to house people just like him. Now that you’re occupying the space, though, it’s much different. It’s no longer just a room, but a sort of home. 

Your presence here gives it much more meaning than any trinket he might have placed on the shelf. Things in this room he’s never given a second thought suddenly burst to life with your interest in them, pulling memories from the depths of his brain as he recalls where he got them, when he got them, just because you asked. 

It’s much too easy for him, too, the way he imagines coming home from a long day to greet you at the front door. He pictures you perfectly, hair twisted into a loose braid, a soft nightgown hanging off your shoulders, feet sporting cozy slippers that make muted thuds as you walk over to give him a warm welcome back. He imagines quiet mornings sitting at the table for two, sipping tea and working through crosswords together. He sees himself reading aloud to you at the bay window, dozing off against his shoulder under the light. 

The thought of such uncomplicated, reliable domesticity with you is a thought he lets himself dream about. It seems natural, a routine he wouldn’t mind slipping into in the slightest, and you haven’t even stayed the night yet. 

He wouldn’t mind living here forever as long as you did too

When your curiosity has been, for the most part, sated, you return back and join him on the bed. You plop down, expecting to sink right in - why exactly, you’re not sure, because it’s incredibly characteristic for Levi’s bed to be as hard as a rock.

Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but the firmness is still shocking beneath your fingertips.

“Have you ever even slept in this bed?” You ask with wide eyes, hands pressing down into the austere cushion, trying to fluff it like it was a pillow. The incredulous smile adorning your face makes his stomach flip. He crosses his arms across his front as if to mask his heart beating out of his rib cage. He's never been in such close, private quarters with you before. 

Levi shrugs. “I don’t really sleep anywhere.” Internally, he shakes off his nerves, not wanting to embarrass himself by leaning into them. The thought of showing how bashful he feels alone is mortifying, but he doesn’t know yet that you’d only love him more for it. 

You can’t help but to tease, muttering, “I mean, I know of a way to break it in.” Your face is utterly serious, but your eyes, swimming with a mirth Levi is far too fond of, give it away. 

Levi diverts his eyes with a small roll to the side, the hint of a smile crawling up his face. He’s the last person you’d think to be flustered by such a thing, but it’s only because it’s you. “Go to bed, brat.”

You pout. “Only if you lay down with me.”

“I told you, I don’t sleep.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t lay down.”

You know your way around Levi too well, he thinks, or maybe he just loves you. The way you can get his resolve to crumble with a mere pleading expression must be some sort of crime. You read him like a book and know him like the back of your hand to a point where it would be dangerous if it were anyone else. Usually the thought of such a person would intimidate him, but he doesn’t mind being seen by you - not that he has a choice. Against your will, he doesn’t stand a chance; not now and not ever.

He sighs a long sigh and gestures for you to get in with a small wave of his hand. While he stands to close to blinds and light the lamp by his bedside, you scramble under the covers. The initial feeling of warmth covers your skin and makes you shiver as you adjust, crawling hastily under and pulling the blankets up close to your chest. They’re soft and clean and smell just like Levi.

He lets out a yawn that oddly reminds you of a lion pup, but you don’t mention it, instead locking it away for you to think of later on. If you said anything, he’d probably never do it again. Gently, he pulls up the covers on his side and slides under to join you, the bed sinking with his added weight.

“Goodnight, Levi.”

“Goodnight, dear.”

After laying for a while, staring up at the ceiling, Levi feels himself become drowsy. He lets his muscles relax, lets his jaw unclench, lets his eyes fall shut. Though he’s a bit puzzled as to why, sleeping now seems so inviting, and who is he to deny it?

From his side, you watch his breathing slow. It settles into a steady rise and fall of his chest, and his lips part slightly.

The progression is slow. At first, you work up the courage to slip your arm over his middle. You spend minute after minute contemplating, picturing him pushing you away, but you’re getting tired and enough is enough. You slip your arm over his middle and stay completely still; then, nothing happens.

Until moments later, when he rolls onto his side to face your direction. His eyes are still closed, rhythmically relaxed breaths leaving his nose. Then, you move onto your back and scoot up a bit further onto the pillows. He unconsciously curls into your warmth, shifting further into your body, and it makes you melt immediately, swelling with a giddy feeling. You’re almost worried the joyous thumping you feel inside your chest will wake him up.

Eventually, Levi’s head rests perfectly atop your shoulder, small puffs of air falling lightly on your skin. Your hands rub calm circles into the skin on his back where his t-shirt has ridden up, careful not to rouse him from his slumber.

It’s like that for a long time. You keep yourself awake, content with just holding him for now. You take the time to think, watching the flickering glow of the lamp, listening to his quiet breaths, feeling the muted beat of his heart on your hip.

It’s hours later when Levi sucks in a big breath, blinking awake in alarm. His head picks up off your chest and he looks around, finally settling on you who blinks right back. His lids squeeze shut and he mentally grounds himself as he realizes he’s safe.

“You okay?” you ask quietly, voice low as to not interrupt the calm of the night. Your hold around him tightens to let him know you’re there.

He shakes his head slightly and sighs. “Bad dream.” 

“‘S all right,” you say, hand moving from his back to his nape, “you can go back to sleep.”

He rubs his eyes, yawning. In an instant, he freezes, realizing the position he’s in. He’s practically clinging to you like a child would a toy, and he feels a familiar heat flush his skin as his head hangs. “Sorry.” He swallows. “I should probably start work.” 

He starts to push himself off of you to get up, but your hold on his shoulders is firm, pulling him right back down.

“You’re tired,” you say. “Stay. I’ll be right here.”

He sighs, looking around, before resigning and dipping his head back down to lay on top of you. He doesn’t feel like arguing something he knows he wants deep down anyway. He nuzzles his face into your front, shaking his head slightly as if to clear his mind of what was plaguing it in his rest.

“Promise you won’t leave,” he mumbles softly into your shirt, barely audible. He’s too tired to put up a mask for show, and he’s relieved to see that you don’t need one from him come rain or shine.

Your fingers card through his silky locks and brush them back from his face as his body finally sinks into yours, his weight a warming comfort. It’s slight, but you feel his head tilt just a bit further into your palm.

You place a chaste kiss to his crown. “Promise.”

☆☆☆

When the morning sun finally wakes and rises above the horizon line, Levi finds himself turning away from the beams filtering through the curtains. He feels the golden light on his lids, and he flips onto his opposite side, clinging to the cozy feel of his bed. The only thing that pulls him from his slumber is when his hand stretches out to find emptiness all around, your presence absent from his space where he so desperately wants you.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you say, watching him shift slowly and gain his surroundings. You’re standing at the small counter across the room, boiling a pot of water on the stove - Levi can tell from the faint rumbling of bursting bubbles inside the steel kettle. He slowly peels his eyes open to get a glimpse of you, features seeming to glow with the light pouring in from the windows. He feels his heart skip a beat that he’s not ready for.

 Levi is surprised that he has slept in so late, let alone slept through the entire night at all. It’s rare that this happens - he almost wants to say it’s the first time it has occurred for him, waking up in secure comfort rather than burning fear. The only thing that could make it better were if you were right beside him.

Of course, Levi can’t bring himself to say something so forward this early in the morning. Instead, he mumbles a small, “Come back,” a hint of a whine to his voice that only you could identify.

There’s a muted clinking sound as you stir a spoon around in the porcelain cups you’ve prepared, knocking against each other as you try your best to pick them up. It feels like a juggling act, trying to bring them over safely. You don’t know how Levi makes it look so easy every time he brings you a cup when they are so awfully hot to the touch. He must have gotten used to it, or bears the sting for the sake of his collected appearance.

“I was planning on it,” you reassure him, “just had to stretch a bit.” 

Your feet pad lightly across the wood floors until you reach him, offering the tea which he graciously accepts. You set your own on the nightstand to cool while Levi takes his first sip immediately. It tastes just like how he makes it for himself. Considering he’s never explicitly shown you exactly what he does, he’s both surprised and deeply touched.

His eyes follow you as you clamor in next to him. He asks the question that’s been playing on his mind since he stirred awake hours ago. 

“Were you awake all night?”

He sees your expression falter slightly and knows right from then. Regardless, you brush it off without hesitation, nestling up to his side.

“No, no,” you lie casually, “I woke up a little before you did and went to sleep after.”

With a gentle hand, you straighten out the part in his hair, laying down the slight frizz from where his head was pressed into the pillow.

Levi looks at you for a long time, observing your tender gestures. He sees right through your words, and also sees the slight droop of your eyes, a hint of darkness beneath them. He thinks of you awake all night, petting his hair as he rests while you don’t, and brings a twinge of guilt to his heart. At the same time, his soul is utterly warmed and thankful. He’s not sure what to make of someone who’d do that for him.

He disregards your previous statement and instead addresses the obvious truth. “Don’t do that for me. You need sleep too.”

It draws a laugh from you. The way your eyes crease has his heart faltering. “I sleep more than enough, trust me.”

He peeks at you over the top of his tea cup, wishing he could freeze this moment in time, capturing how you look perfectly down to the miniscule curve of your lips so that he’ll never forget it. Maybe, he won’t have to.

He doesn’t need to ask because the answer is clear, but he does anyway.

“...Would you mind staying again tonight?”

[beels-burger-babe]

Beelzebub's Very Bad No Good Day

***So this is the new format in which I'll be answering requests. In my experience, actual posts get spread further than asks do, so this will hopefully help with that. ANYWAY, I am crazy excited about this request as a major Beel simp and YES I will proudly do this request! Thank you @sinnoman for blessing me with it. -B*** Summary: Beel doesn't get anything to eat one day, and it doesn't go well for anybody.

From the moment Beelzebub woke up, he knew that today was going to be a terrible day. For starters, he had apparently raided the fridge in his sleep the night before, so there was not a crumb left in the house for anyone to make breakfast with. Most of the others had gone and grabbed something from Hell's Kitchen on their way to class, but poor Beel had slept through his alarm due to the food coma his nighttime snack had put him in and had to rush to RAD. The entire school was talking about the monster that they believed had awoken beneath the school. Teachers were on edge ready to evacuate the premises for the earthquake they believed to be happening. Beel avoided eye contact, blushing as his empty stomach continued to rumble and roar throughout the day. He ended up eating a few pencils just to get it to quiet down and even that didn't have much effect. The Avatar of Gluttony nearly cried tears of relief when the lunch bell rang. But it seemed that fate was not his friend that day. He was going to order a gargantuan-sized Little Devil mango slushy, a side of Hellfire curry rice, fried shadow bat, and 108 seed salad and the main course of at least twenty shadow hog burgers with three servings of caramel shadow tart for dessert. Beel was drooling at just the thought of it. He was almost at the ordering station when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Beel growled and turned around, baring his teeth at whoever dared to disturb him.

Belphegor narrowed his eyebrows in concern. "Woah. Beel, relax. It's just me. We've got a student council meeting, and Lucifer has threatened to take away supper from whoever skips out." Beelzebub scoffed as the air around him darkened at the mention of someone taking food away from him. "I'd like to see him try." Belphie raised an eyebrow at his twin's uncharacteristically grumpy behaviour. "Are you alright, Beel?" As though to answer his question, Beel's stomach let out another loud roar, causing several students to flinch and Beel to scowl in frustration. "I'm hungry." Belphie's frown deepened. Beel was always hungry, but he didn't usually let it get to him like this. The younger twin rifled through his own bag before pulling out an obviously full paper bag. "You can have my lunch if you want. I ate a little bit of it during class and swiped a bagel from Mammon during the first period, so I'm not all that-" Before he could finish Beel ripped the bag out of Belphie's hands and devoured it, bag and all. Belphie blinked at his now empty hand and chuckled as Beel chewed. "Man, you must be starving huh?"

Beelzebub merely grunted and continued to chew before swallowing down the small meal. He glanced back at the lineup in the cafeteria and put a hand on his stomach as he thought about the lunch he should be enjoying. Belphie nudged him. "Come on, big guy. We got to get to that meeting. The sooner we get it over with, the more likely it is that we'll end early and you might be able to grab something before class starts again." Only the meeting was not short and quick like Belphie had said it might be. Diavolo wanted everyone to come up with an idea for a school fundraiser, and Lucifer was arguing with Asmodeus on what was and was not appropriate. To make matters worse, you were unable to attend as, according to Mammon, your charms professor had asked you to stay behind afterwards to discuss your progress in the class. The bickering on top of the lack of food in his stomach was giving Beel a migraine and the longer he sat there, the more irritable he had become. Eventually, it became too much and he snapped. "ENOUGH!" he bellowed, flipping the table as he stood. "No one cares about the stupid fundraiser anyway and you're just wasting all of our time arguing over something that will inevitably fall apart and cause an even bigger mess, just like it always does!" "Beelzebub! Watch your tone in front of-" "Shut it, Lucifer!" his brother's gaped at him in shock as he snarled at their elder. "I am sick and tired of you pushing us all around and punishing us when the slightest thing goes wrong just because you-" Beel poked Lucifer's chest hard enough to make him take a step back, "won't take responsibility for your own mistakes!" "Oh shit," Mammon whispered under his breath, as Lucifer's eyes narrowed and his body tensed in defence. The second-born quickly squeezed his way between the two of them and spread his arms to try and create some distance. "Okay! Tensions are high. People are upset. But this is not the place to brawl it out." he glanced over at Lucifer who looked like he was a second away from stringing him up to the ceiling. "Might I remind ya Lord Diavolo is still in the room?" Lucifer looked over at Diavolo, who appeared to be both hurt and concerned by Beelzebub's words, before sighing and fixing his composure. He gave Beel a hard look. "Obviously something is upsetting you, but we can discuss this at home. For the time being, I recommend you work on calming yourself and clearing your head." Beel just growled at him before stomping out of the student council room. He had been about to re-enter the cafeteria again when the bell rang signalling the end of lunch hour. Beelzebub felt his eye twitch before his demon form burst into existence. He let out a deafening scream as he grabbed a table and threw it across the room (students still seated on it, included). Students were yelling and scrambling like mice as the large demon rampaged through the halls. He tore the locked grate off of the serving station and grabbed the nearest server by the scruff of the collar, causing them to squeak in fear. "I'm hungry," Beel rumbled lowly as the demon trembled in his hands. "Get me something to eat now or I will not hesitate to eat you." "R-R-Right away, Beelzeb-b-bub." Beel carelessly dropped the demon, who scattered off to gather as much food as they could. He began pacing like a caged animal. Having been alerted by all the noise, his brothers and Diavolo rushed into the nearly destroyed cafeteria. Diavolo's jaw dropped. "Beelzebub, what's the meaning of all this?" Beel's famished brain didn't acknowledge Diavolo as an authority at the moment. Instead, he was yet another person trying to keep him from eating. "I need food. NOW!" Lucifer's eyes widened in realization as he whispered something to Diavolo. The prince nodded and took a step back. "I'm sure the cooks are doing all they can to get you food right away. But I need you to control yourself before I am forced to take action." Satan had his phone out and was urgently texting someone, as Belphie moved forward.

"You'll get your food shortly Beel. You just need to wai-" "I don't want to wait!!" There was a part of Beelzebub's brain that was aware he was acting like a child. But his stomach physically hurt from how empty it was. He was tired. He was starving. He didn't have the patience for pleasantries. "I've barely eaten anything all day, and people keep staring and talking about me because my stomach just will not stop growling and I'm so hungry that I can barely think straight! I hate it! But I know it won't go away unless I eat, so I NEED TO EAT!" The brothers looked at Beel in shock. They knew that he ate a lot, but they always passed it off as just another quirk that made him Beel. They didn't know it bothered him like this. They thought back on all the instances where Beel had stated that he was hungry out of nowhere, always with a distressed look on his face. Every single time they had brushed him off. Before any of them could respond, you casually walked into the war zone that was the cafeteria. "Alright Satan, what's so urgent that you needed me so badly?" The room fell quiet as everyone's attention snapped over to you and you took in the situation. It didn't take long for you to connect the dots.

You immediately began to rush over to Beelzebub; Mammon stepped forward to stop you. "Woah, MC! I don't think that's a good idea right now!"

You ignored him and continued to make your way to Beel. Seeing you, the small human that you were, made Beel realize just how reckless he had been acting. He held out his hands to stop you and took a step away. "You should listen to Mammon, MC. I-I haven't eaten all day and I-" "You haven't eaten all day?! Oh god, this is worst than I thought." Beel watched as you slid the oversized backpack that he had seen you carry around RAD with you every day off your back and begin to dump out the contents. In a second, dozens of bags of chips, candy, fruits, and other snacks spilled across the floor in front of the two of you. Beel didn't waste a single moment. He instantly began consuming the snacks, causing you to smile happily. "Wha-What?! MC?! Why the hell do you have that much food on ya?!" Mammon sputtered as he cautiously began to approach you. You shrugged. "Beel gets upset when he's hungry, and I don't like it when he's upset. So I stocked up on some of his favourite snacks a while back and always keep them on me just in case," Beel paused his eating to look up at you in awe, "He can't help that he's always hungry. It's not like he asked to be the Avatar of Gluttony." Suddenly there were a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Lucifer, Levi, and Mammon called out your name as Beel pulled you tightly against his chest. You just grinned and hugged the friendly giant back. "Thank you," he whispered softly into your hair, his arms tightening around you just a little more. "There's nothing to thank me for." As Beel finally began to calm down, the cooks came out with platters of food and shakily laid them out around you and Beel before taking cover back into the kitchen. Seeing that the threat had passed, the other brothers began to approach as well. "You know Beel, I didn't know you had that much pent-up anger inside of you. It was terrifying!" Asmodeus chirped as he plopped down beside the two of you.

"Yeah! You were just like the antagonist in My Boyfriend Turned Into a Cannabilistic Rage Monster, And Now I Have to Stop Him From Devouring The Whole City!!!" Levi began to ramble about specific scenes from the show that matched perfectly with Beel's rampage, causing Beel to blush as he munched on a burger. Belphie sighed and elbowed Beel as he took his seat at his side. "We'll have to make sure that MC's always around you. Just in case you know?" he smiled softly, before looking at his twin with a more serious expression. "You should've told me about all that stuff you said earlier. I had no idea you felt that away about your appetite." Beel looked away uncomfortably as he took another bite of his food and avoided the question. You snuggled closer to him, to provide him with some comfort. Satan tapped his chin as he watched the group. "I'm sure we could talk with Barbatos and come up with some sort of high-protein shake or bar that would better satisfy you. That way you wouldn't have to eat as much." Lucifer glanced over at Diavolo, silently asking if it was a possibility. The prince smiled warmly. "I'll have Barabatos begin working on something right away." Forgetting all about class and the anger that had previously consumed him, Beel looked around at his family. A warm feeling blossomed in his stomach as he felt content with the rare care and affection that they were openly showing. Maybe it had something to do with the thirty burgers he had already ate, but for just a second, Beel didn't feel so hungry anymore. ***Boy that got a little angsty there for a second, but I hope this was to your liking @sinnoman! I definitely enjoyed writing this one, and I think it made me fall in love with my boy Beel even more 🥰*** TAGLIST: @vampwiire @bunna-does-stuff

[storiesforallfandoms]

how they react when you walk in covered in blood and carrying a gun ~ mcu

request?: no

warnings: swearing, mentions of guns and violence

masterlist (one, two)

*only using the og six plus bucky, wanda and loki because there’s way too many marvel characters rn; also based off of a tiktok by anniedvorak!*

BRUCE BANNER/HULK:

The last person you expected to see when you entered Thor’s room on Sakaar with the intentions of saving him was your boyfriend, Bruce. He had been lost for so long, you had let your heart let go of him. But there he was, stood with a cloth wrapped around his waist after having turned back from the Hulk.

You were tempted to walk back out. This wasn’t exactly how you wanted Bruce to see you - an alien gun in hand and blood splattered over your face and clothes. But it was too late, he was already looking at you with wide eyes.

“(Y/N),” he said, turning to approach you but stopping halfway. You weren’t sure if he had stopped because of the blood or because he was still technically naked. “What are you...what did you...?”

“I’m trying to save Thor,” you responded. “Listen, we don’t have much time. I can explain everything once all of us are off of this planet. Put some pants on, we’re getting out of here.”

~~~~~~

BUCKY BARNES/THE WINTER SOLDIER:

You walked in after a surprise run in with the Flag Smashers. Bucky already looked about ready to kill someone, but when you walked through the door of Zemo’s apartment, blood covering your face and your gun clutched tightly in your hand, his face turned red with anger.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sam asked.

“Flag Smashers,” you breathed in response.

“I’m gonna fucking kill them,” Bucky hissed, abandoning his drink on the counter and making his way to the door.

You put a hand up to stop him. “I think that ship has sailed. This isn’t all my blood.”

Bucky cupped your face in his hands, his face softening as he looked at you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you insisted. “I just need a shower, and maybe a visit to a hospital or something. They hit me pretty hard, I think I have some bruised ribs or something.”

He kissed your forehead and took your gun from your still shaking hands. Once it was safely put aside, he brought you into the bathroom to help you bathe and to start dressing your wounds.

~~~~~~

CLINT BARTON/HAWEYE:

You were extremely lucky that Clint worked with someone like Natasha regularly, or else he would’ve been much more concerned when you arrived home from work covered in blood and still carrying you gun. He barley looked up from the TV as you walked through the door, immediately racing for your bedroom so you could shower and change.

“Hard day at work?” he called as you passed by.

“That last target they sent me after put up a hell of a fight,” you responded. “By the time I finally got him, I realized how late it was and rushed home immediately. I’m glad S.H.I.E.L.D issues those SUVs with the tinted windows or else I definitely would’ve been pulled over for suspicious activity.”

Clint chuckled and rose from his seat. He walked into your shared bedroom as you were pulling off you bloodstained clothes and throwing them into a pile to be tossed out eventually. His eyes raked over your body as you looked up at him.

“Red looks good on you,” he said, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips.

“That’s gross,” you teased. “You’re gross. Just for that, you can’t shower with me.”

He groaned as you walked into the bathroom and locked the door before he could follow you in. 

~~~~~~

LOKI:

The sly smirk on Loki’s face was enough to almost rid you of the annoyance you felt after what you just had to do. Almost.

You walked up to the panel that controlled his glass cage. You could’ve easily figured out how to deal with it, but instead you shot the control panel. Sparks flew from it before Loki’s prison sprung open.

“Seems like a bit of overkill,” he commented.

“Shut it,” you hissed. “You told me it was going to be easy to break you out. You failed to mention the entire team of guards that were watching this room, and, oh yeah, the team of super humans that were assembled to face you?!”

Loki walked free of his cage, taking a dramatic deep breath before smiling to himself. “Well, doesn’t seem like you had an issue with them, as I knew you wouldn’t.”

He approached you, arms out as if he were going to hug you and try to kiss you. You poked his stomach with the barrel of your gun, glaring up at him.

“Come one step closer and we see how much damage a mortal weapon can do to a God.”

Loki put his hands on your shoulders, keeping you a fair distance away to heed your warning. “I’m sorry for not giving you a proper warning. Thank you for freeing me, I do appreciate it.”

You allowed yourself to relax against his touch and smiled a little. “You’re welcome.”

“Now, let’s get out of here, shall we?”

“You’re doing all the work this time.”

~~~~~~

NATASHA ROMANOFF/BLACK WIDOW:

It probably wasn’t a good idea, but you didn’t know where else to go. Natasha had always warned you about the Red Room, and you were so stupid to not listen to her.

Now you were stood on her doorstep, covered in blood that wasn’t yours, your gun dangling from your hand as you wished to drop it but also too scared to let it go. It was what Natasha looked at first when she opened the door - the gun, then to your blood covered face.

“Put the gun down,” she said, her voice calmer than you expected.

You gratefully allowed her to take it from your hand as you felt tears starting to well in your eyes. She pulled you in for a hug, where you started to sob on her shoulder. She took a quick look around to make sure you weren’t followed before bringing you into her house.

“Go get cleaned up,” she told you. “We’ll figure out your next step together.”

~~~~~~

STEVE ROGERS/CAPTAIN AMERICA:

You showed up to Sam’s shortly after Steve had brought Natasha. You could barley keep yourself up, the fight had taken everything out of you. You were sure Sam was going to turn you away - you were a stranger showing up on his doorstep covered in blood with a gun in your hand. You were pleasantly shocked when he stepped aside and told you where to find Steve.

Poor Steve. He was already trying to help Natasha, who had been in the same situation as you just with a lot less blood. She was resting when you walked in, dazed and just wanting to also rest.

He was up in seconds, reaching out to wrap you in his arms despite the blood covering you.

“The Winter Soldier is one mean fucker,” you breathed, resting your head against Steve’s chest. “I think he finally got wore out and ran off. Unfortunately, I was wore out about an hour before he was, but I kept going.”

“You should’ve given up long ago, honey,” he said.

“I’m not a pussy,” you said with a slight laugh. “Although I am starting to succumb to the pain.”

He picked you up into his arms and carried you to the bathroom where he helped you to rinse the blood off of your body so you could finally rest.

~~~~~~

THOR:

It was a side of you that Thor had never seen before. He had lost you during the battle in Sokovia and was expecting the worst when he couldn’t get you over the coms. When you showed back up to jet, blood covering your tired looking face, he was overjoyed to see you were alright, but also a little shocked by your appearance.

“Those fuckers really thought they had me,” you said, a half laugh bubbling on your lips. “They were a little shocked when I got the upper hand on them. Even more shocked when I shot them dead.”

“I was worried for you, (Y/N),” Thor said, cupping your face in his hands as he approached you. “I truly thought they had taken you from me.”

You smirked up at him. “You really have no faith in me at all them, do you? Or you just underestimate me. I’m a little offended on both accounts, though.”

Thor smiled back at you. “Of course, I would never doubt you. Just a bit of fear is all.”

“When you two are done being gross,” came Tony’s voice from inside the jet, “we’d like to get back to the tower. I think (Y/N) needs a shower and a fresh change of clothes more than anything.”

~~~~~~

TONY STARK/IRON MAN:

“Miss (Y/L/N) incoming Mr. Stark.”

“Tell her to come back at another time, J.A.R.V.I.S, I’m busy right now.”

“I don’t think it can wait, sir.”

Tony looked up to see you walking through the door to his lab, your body trembling as you clutched the gun tightly in your hand. There was a splatter of blood over your shirt and some on your face. You looked up at him, looking like a helpless child.

He quickly walked over to you, his hand automatically reaching for the gun. You gladly let him take it, feeling like a weight had been lifted the moment the weapon was out of your hands.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I-I was attacked at-at home,” you stuttered. “I don’t know how they got in, I don’t know who they were. I walked into my house and was blindsided by these two men trying to attack me. I got the gun out of the hands of one of them and I...I...”

Your hands moved to mimic the action of shooting your attackers, but you couldn’t actually bring yourself to say you had done it. You didn’t want to admit to having shot anyone, even if it was in self defense.

Tony placed the gun aside and took you into his arms. You stopped fighting against the lump that had formed in your throat and began to sob into his chest. He ran a hand through your hair, calming you down.

“It’s okay,” he said, soothingly. “It’s alright. I got you now. I won’t let anyone else try to hurt you.”

~~~~~~

WANDA MAXIMOFF/SCARLETT WITCH:

You didn’t think of Tommy and Billy. You didn’t think about the perfect neighborhood Wanda had created. You didn’t even think about Vision, or the version of Vision she had created. Your only thoughts were getting to Wanda before Hayward and his people could.

She was horrified when she opened the door. Of course she was; you were stood at her doorstep, a ghost from the life she wanted to forget, holding a gun with blood splattered on your face.

“You have to get out of here,” you said before she could speak. “You have to break down that boarder and you need to get out of here now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice still in its sitcom mode. “Please leave before I call the police.”

You grabbed hold of her shoulders before she could walk away, startling her.

“Wanda, you have to listen to me. You know what’s happening here because you are controlling it all. I know that, everyone outside the Hex knows that. Including the S.W.O.R.D director Hayward, who is trying to break through your barrier right now to kill you. I know you don’t want to lose this perfect life you’ve made, but your are in real danger. You need to get out of here.”

It seemed like she was understanding. A hurt look passed over her face as she turned to look into the house where her perfect family was likely residing. She took a deep breath and turned back to you.

“Let’s go.”

[yanderenightmare]

uhm, yandere Katsuki with a small reader... like idk how to explain but fluff fear? like waking up together but all she can think about is how loud he sleeps and how BIG he is, also him being a total bitch about how small she is?

yandere kidnapper ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

goodiebag WARNINGS: dubcon/noncon mentions, kidnapping, abduction, abuse, degradation

PUFF

Waking up warmer than usual was something she’d gotten terribly used to. 

It had only been a couple days. A couple days in a foreign house without anything to do except prance around in what lingerie Katsuki bothered to give her, or sleep the hours away. Where which the latter was undesirable, because she’d be risking getting snuck up on by the brute predator once he returned. So, she was left walking about, dragging tired limbs through barren hallways, stopping to take in the space of each impersonal room, half-naked and cold in the marble mansion, doing nothing but dreading the time her hero came home. 

And in the absence of things happening, those moments where she was in fact preoccupied with something became so much heavier and longer than what they were in reality. Expanded, to the degree where she could pinpoint almost every single detail within the moment. 

This was one of those moments.

She wanted to focus on the bed, soft material, caky and cloudy beneath her, but it was difficult to ignore the mass behind her. His nose poking into the top of her head, nuzzling in her hair, a good measurement of knowing how close his teeth were to her neck as heavy breaths ran down her neck like a chilling breeze, ticklish and disturbing like crawling mites. His chest, rising, pushing into her back, the beating of his heart rattling her ribcage. His hands, large and so very warm, warmer than they were supposed to be, scathed like sandpaper as they scratched in their presence by rubbing her hip, arms slung around her body haphazardly, caging her, suffocating her, pulling her close, holding her steady, trapping her. 

Like a dragon protecting his treasure, she thought, but quickly discarded of the notion. It sounded too sweet. 

Katsuki wasn’t sweet.

He’d come home yesterday, coated in smog, droplets of blood flecked on his sand-skin in no particular pattern. He didn't shower, he’d only grabbed her and walked off to bed. No words shared, only whimpers and dark, disturbing chuckles. She’d struggled, as much as she could against the brute, but it felt as though he enjoyed that more. Tightening his hold until she swore she began to hear her bones ache, bristle as he squeezed the air from out of her lungs. 

She was happy she was spared his painful cock that night, but she was sure it would be a short-lived mercy.

His hold; though still strong, wasn’t as tight in the morning. She took it as an opportunity to create more space between herself and the fever-heat and blinding smell of caramel. She almost wished she could smell the blood and smoke instead, something bitter to disrupt the sickening sweet. She wished she could smell anything else, but even the smell of herself was overcome by him. She’d walked around the house thinking of it the other day, how it was almost as though he’d scented her, as though they were animals.

He didn’t take lightly to the disturbing of his slumber, grunting and growling, stirring that overbearing sense of fear inside her gut, her stomach folding in every possible way. She didn’t want to stop, she wanted to fight, she wanted to roar. He tightened his arms around her, squeezed her hip, planting her ass better against his crotch and she froze.

He smacked his tongue against his teeth. “Now what?” He coaxed. She expected his voice to sound groggy in the morning, but she’d learned in the past days, it never shed its ugly tone. “You gonna cry?” His voice sounding almost hopeful as he bit down on her earlobe, earning a gasp that along the way turned into a delicious little whimper. She tried clawing at his hand, his own nails digging into her skin. “Do yourself a favor and relax” All his taunting, patronizing overbearing words, dismissive to her discomfort, rather enjoying it, if only she could see the cracked smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. She kept struggling despite the obvious futility. “Yer’ not going anywhere, yer’ exactly where you need to be... exactly where you belong.” His tone was casual as he sucked in a breath, sighing with a grumbling growl, still sleepy, yawning behind her, comfortable when squeezing her plushie little form, keeping her close like child with a teddybear. 

But he wasn't enjoying how her legs were kicking, despite the rest of her struggles being teasingly pleasurable.

Pushed down on her back, manhandled into position, he made to move himself between her thighs. Now, with more mistaken freedom, she tried pushing him away. Foolish fists hit against the stiff muscles of his chest, until he grabbed them by the wrists and pinned them above her head. His face so much closer now, but he didn’t kiss her, still longing to hear her speak up, to beg, to plead, to scream. But he remained close, knowing how every one of his words made her heart beat that much faster, and how those especially crude words made her quiver or better yet bleat, like a little lamb beneath him.

“Come on…” He hauled out. She barely made out the words, as far hidden in the growl as they were. His voice tickling her burning ear, his head resting its heavy weight on her arm. “I know I’ve been busy, but…” He spoke as though she wanted to spend more time with him. “It’s my day off.” His voice in singsong, as if she’d be excited, the tone sounding dreadful and wrong when coming from him, dark as it was. But it earned him what he’d been wanting, that soft and struggled sniffle, breath caught in her throat, an uncontrolled shiver breaking the sweet feeble noise.

Content with what he’d reduced her to, he rested his head on the pillow beside her face, his weight laid down upon her in a lifedraining fashion. He hummed, closing his eyes, enjoying her small frame beneath him. In her rightful place, he snickered. Eyes fluttering to look at her pretty face, hand covered in dried blood and smoke as it ascended to tug a lock of hair behind her ear, his thumb stroking over her lips when he made to retract it. The state of his skin made him cringe when he touched the fairness of her complexion. It felt wrong, he admitted. 

They needed to find an even ground.

“Let’s shower, I’m dirty.” She could feel his lips on her ear now, but she was too shell-shocked to snap her head away, knowing what was coming.

In all honesty, she wouldn’t mind a shower. She’d been there a while and didn’t exactly feel clean with him spread, smeared all over her, inside her. But, he’d insisted on being so very close at all times, she was sure the same rules would apply in the shower. 

She tried her best to fight, but it was all so easy to simply grab her arm and pull her with him, yanking on her like a child with a toy. Throwing her inside the large bathroom, with strength that almost had her falling to her knees.

“Take yer’ clothes off.” He commanded, having her backed up against the cold tiles of the walls. “Or… they’re not really your clothes.” He tugged at the black fabric of his shirt, one she’d put on after realizing her own clothes were far from wearable anymore, singed as they were.

Towering over her petite shape, enjoying how she had to tilt her head a drastic degree to stare up at him. 

She was so tiny, it sent pleasurable shivers down his spine to look at her, small like a little pet. His shirt hung around her in the same way you’d expect a tent would, reaching all the way down to her knees, only barely fitting on her narrow shoulders.

She wanted to sound strong. “N- no.” It came out weak.

Snickering, he placed a hand on the wall beside her head. “I was hoping you’d say that…” His smile was so feral, she began wondering if smiles were ever a nice gesture in the first place. Katsuki seemed to do it simply to show her those large teeth stored in his mouth, teeth that could rip her throat out if he were dedicated enough. “Better you learn sooner than later just how helpless you are to stop me getting what I want.” He leaned in closer, stepping further into her space, threatening to crush her toes under the soles of his feet, his much too hot breaths striking her face on repeat. “Weak.” He spat the word, as though it were venom on his tongue. “Defenseless.” It disgusted him, distaste clear in the growl lacing his tone. “Fragile.” 

He’d not gotten exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to scream, whether it was of rage or of fear, didn’t really matter. The tears were no less satisfying though, dribbling down her cheeks, eyes glossy and sparkling.

He grabbed the collar of the t-shirt. She felt the pull, but the tear still came as a surprise. The ripped fabric, now reduced to useless singed rags, pooling around her ankles, and she found herself regretting her wish to smell smoke because the burn of the textile at her feet was not the type of bitter like morning coffee, but bitter in the way that made her eyes sting. Her knees almost gave out when his hand neared her again, his other hand placed above her head, meaning to cage her in between his warmth and the freezing wall behind her. 

Her nipples perked at once when he made contact, which made him smile, hand still hot, much too hot. He cupped one breast in his hand, much too small to fill it entirely. He didn’t seem to mind though.

“So soft…” The disdainful tone was gone, but she found herself missing it as opposed to what lingered in his voice now. “So delicate.” Lust was so terribly more frightening than his distaste. “So…” He licked his lips, a hot breath fanned over her face and goosebumps sprung to the surface of her skin. He hummed in response and she was sure she might just faint. “So sensitive.” She yelped when he pinched. “Mine.” His voice was low and rumbling, hot like raked coals. Tugging down her bottoms as well, she did little to prevent it. 

Not that it would have mattered if she did.

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

[yandere-mha]

Mommy kink dabi with a lactating motherly darling pls

I... got carried away with this lmao. 

TW: KIDNAPPING, PREGNANCY KINK, SMUT, MOMMY KINK, LACTATION, MASTURBATION AHEAD.

MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

As you laid with your back on the luxurious couch cushions, one hand on your swollen belly and the other splayed to the side, you were deep in thought of how this could have possibly happened. Being only 16 weeks pregnant, your belly was not very large yet, but you were beginning to take notice of some of the more common side effects of pregnancy. Not only had you become extremely moody within the past week, but it seemed like you were constantly horny. Unfortunately, you couldn’t ask for assistance with this kind of thing in the fear of Dabi leaving red marks and bruises all over your body again. He hadn’t done anything like this since he first found out that you were pregnant, in fact he hadn’t even touched anything besides your belly, but you needed to protect your baby at all costs and you didn’t know what he was capable of.

Since he found out the news, he had become a whole other level of unhinged that frightened you to the core. His mother complex was at an all-time high, constantly referring to you as “mommy” and he seemed to hail the baby inside of you as some upcoming messiah. You would constantly awaken in the middle of the night to find him laying in between your thighs with both hands on your stomach, pressing his mouth on to your now exposed belly button and mumbling about all of the things “his creation” will accomplish. That was the main name he’d call his child and it left a bad taste in your mouth. a few days ago, he had felt the baby moving around in your stomach and now it seemed that his hands always had to be glued to you. It drove you nuts but you could never say that to him in fear of him hurting you and the baby.

Moments like these alone were few and far in between and you drank in every second of it. You hadn’t touched yourself in so long you felt like you’d burst from the tension. Coyly, you slowly push your stretched sweatpants out of the way and poke your finger through your underwear to your swollen clit and start to rub in small, slow circles. You close your eyes and try to imagine you’re somewhere else when you hear the door slam so hard that the walls of your shared room trembled. 

With a gasp, you rip your hand away from your underwear and hold them both up to your face with exposed palms as if it was a police officer who’d just knocked down the door Kool-Aid Man style. Dabi’s eyes are locked on to your form in a menacing scowl, the corners of his mouth slightly pulled down on his staples with a furrowed brow and eyes wide with insanity.

You both stare at each other without moving as if he were a T-Rex that could sense any motion. After a few very long seconds of deafening silence, you whisper “To-” 

“Don’t you fucking call me that” He snarls.

Slience.

“You think I’m ugly?” He grunts.

“... wha’?” 

“Don’t play dumb, y/n, or I’ll burn you.”

You swear you could never figure this guy out no matter how long you lived with him. He would always do this kind of thing and sometimes you thought he was looking for things to be angry about.

He slowly walks over to you in slow, menacing steps and looks down at you, eyes squinted and searching your dumbfounded expression. He luckily seemed to relax a bit.

“Maybe you are just dumb.” He said with a sneer.

He watched as you curled into yourself and scrunch your eyebrows, obviously insulted by his harsh tone.

“Don’t give me the puppy dog eyes, babe, I prefer you nice and stupid. It’s cute.”

More silence. His brows furrow again.

“If you keep rejecting me like this you’re gonna hurt my feelings. You wouldn’t want that, right? You’re so sweet.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about. Never once had you rejected him, he just never asked to touch you. In all honesty you would clearly be able to tell when he was in the mood by the way that he’d stare at you. You just pretended not to notice. It was annoying how he expected you to be a mind reader.

Suddenly Dabi roughly grasps your ankle that’s propped up on the sofa handle and yanks your body so that you’re forced to sit up and face him. For someone who usually treats you like glass, he sure is rough with you once he gets excited.

He then gently places both of his hands on your belly and begins to briskly rub circles under your shirt, sloppily kissing your exposed skin. He wastes no time in tugging you shirt up with one hand while he begins to pull down your pants with the other. After struggling with your pant legs while kissing your chest, he pulls his face away from your cleavage to notice a small darkened splotch on your bra. He pauses his frenzied movements and apprehensively unhooks your bra to reveal a white fluid seeping out of your nipple.

“Is something wrong?” You inquire.

He doesn’t respond as he squints his eyes and experimentally swipes the pad of his pointer finger over the liquid and places that finger into his mouth. There’s a visible, adoring light that turns on in his eyes as he registers what it must be. A soft smile stretches on his split lips.

“You’re leaking, mommy.” he croaks. He adores you. You’re really a mom now.

“Let me help.” There’s almost no warning as he roughly squeezes your breast, causing more milk to flow out, latching his leather-like lips onto your areola, suckling your nipple between his tongue and top row of his teeth as if he hadn’t drank anything for weeks. 

Your sharp gasps only encourage him to continue with more desperation as he starts to slip out of reality. His breathing is comparable to that of an enraged bull as he pushes your chest down further into the cushion.

You are at a loss for words as your fully clothed captor ravages your partially nude body. You feel yourself get slick with arousal as you wrap your legs around his hips in an attempt to wordlessly let him know of your neglected state. Luckily for you, he takes notice of this and eagerly shoves a hand down your soaked panties while the other continues its death-clench on your abused tit and rapidly moves his hand up and down your slit, forcing a whimper out of your gaping mouth and causing your body to spasm each time he hits your clit.

As he finally comes up for air, he takes a deep inhale of air and starts the same assault on your other breast, gripping your skin so tightly that you were sure you’d be left with finger-sized bruises.

Without warning, he shoves two long fingers up your pussy as far as possible. A gasp comes deep from within your rib cage and out of your mouth as tears of pain drip down your flushed cheek from the corner of your eye. Dabi interprets your shock as pleasure, egging him on to briskly move his finger up and down your hole.

“s-s...st-...Dabi... please stop!” you’re hyperventilating, fat tears pouring down your cheeks.

Dabi halts immediately, slowly releasing his mouth from your now swollen nipple as a string of saliva connects his mouth to your bud until it breaks off as he looks up at you with twinkling, adoring eyes.

“You okay, mommy?” he whispers.

You can’t find it within yourself to respond as he raises his hands above your bare shoulders to dig his nails into the cushion beside both sides of your head, threatening to rip the material. His eyes go wide with mania as he licks your tears off of your face.

He gently releases his nails from the sofa, unbuttons his pants, slips them off of each of his legs, and tenderly wraps his arms around your torso, pulling your bloated midsection against his body, and shifting you back down to a side-laying position on the cushions to share the space with him. He wraps one of his bare, scarred legs over one of your thighs and he pushes the other in between your legs as he continues to cling to your back. You can feel his erection stabbing into your belly as he presses little kisses all over your neck.

“Tell me you love me.” he says, rocking his hips back and forth.

[carloswilliamcarlos]

Whodunnit (Charlie Barber x Reader)

Warnings: Smut, PIV sex, infidelity/cheating, alcohol mention

A/N: IT’S TIME FOR CHARLIE PORN. Yes this is essentially just a remix of Lights Out. I have no original ideas but I am horny, take it or leave it. Also Sackler is there too this time.

Words: 2.2k

“It was a dark and stormy night,” the speech begins. And strangely enough, it was. 

As if cued by god herself, a crack of thunder tears through the sky. Lightning illuminates the room just for a moment, strobing everything inside in ghost-white light. The hostess, her hair done up in dramatic curls and lips lined in dark red. The guests in masks and top hats, expressions frozen for an instant. Shadows splash onto red brick, splattered against the walls in grotesque angles. You jump, holding on tighter to Sackler’s sweaty hand. Behind you, a low chuckle. 

You don’t need a flash of light to know whose breath is tickling your neck. 

Charlie. 

Of course he’d find it funny that you leapt into the air when thunder crashed. He always did love seeing you surprised. And he’s surely amused at your body curling closer to this child of a man who could do less to protect you than a puppy. His words, of course. At least, that’s what you imagine. 

You’d locked eyes as you circled up for the story just moments ago. Your pulse still hasn’t slowed. He was gorgeous, all in black from head to toe, with a blood red mask tied around his eyes. His hair was so long, so dark, he towered over you and looked like fear incarnate, so dangerous and so beautiful your skin flushed hot at just the sight and…

...and Sackler looked nice, too.

It’s a scene from a nightmare already, your boyfriend and the married man you fucked in a stairwell last week in the very same room. Locked in at a murder mystery party with your entire theater company. On a dark and rainy night. Until someone solves this goddamn mystery and you can run home and take out every ounce of wet frustration on the man whose hand you’re gripping so tight now your nails are leaving marks.

“Hey,” he whispers at you, shaking your grip off. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, slipping your fingers out through the gaps and wiping your palm on your vintage slip.

“Who murdered Madame Millicent? The answer sets you free. The clues are all around you… I suggest you look closely,” the hostess stage-whispers with a flourish. She takes her role very seriously. 

“I think we should split up,” you tell Sackler without as much as a glance his way. You’re acutely aware of how slowly Charlie’s moving behind you. 

“What?” Sackler pouts. “I don’t know any of these people.”

“You don’t have to know them, you just have to find clues,” you retort, words rushed. 

“But I came here to be with you.” Sackler’s hands snake around your waist and he bends down to your height as you cast a glance over your shoulder. “I wanna do bad things to you in the dark,” he mumbles against your skin. And it’s right at that moment you and Charlie lock eyes again. 

You push Sackler’s hands off you. It takes a few swats and shoves just to peel them away.

“You will,” you tell him, swiveling your head back around to look him in the eyes. “I promise, you will, just… Come find me. In a little while. Come find me in the dark and you can do whatever you want.”

You manage a little smile then, and Sackler seems more than titillated. He presses a kiss to your cheek, and you take in the smell of him, all warm spice and cinnamon and just a little too much cologne. With a final squeeze of your waist, he steps away, walking backward into the darkness with a cheeky grin and tripping over the edge of the coffee table on the way.

Charlie’s nowhere to be seen. 

Everything’s hushed now, almost silent. Only the “Spooky Halloween Ambiance” playlist carries through the speakers and winds around the room. You might have been spooked if you hadn’t helped the hostess find it on Spotify earlier this morning. 

Pairs of figures move around in near darkness, looking for answers. There’s only candlelight now, and not much of it. You only hope these clues don’t involve much reading.

Another crack of lightning gets you moving, taking step by cautious step from room to room, looking for anything that will get you out. You pass the kitchen, stocked with cocktail glasses and extra swirls of orange peels. The bathroom, where a group of girls is deciphering a lipstick message on the mirror. 

And then there’s the library. 

You’re sure there must be something in here you need. 

You step into the room and lock the door behind you, not wanting to give away any solves you find. It’s so, so dark, you can hardly make out the edge of the wooden bookshelf as you graze it with your fingers. Slowly, you make your way along the shelf, skimming over book by book, looking for anything of interest. There are no sounds but your own shaky breath and your pulse rushing in your ears. And then you feel it. 

A large frame pressing up against your back, just close enough so you know it’s there. It’s warm, it’s solid, it seems to wrap all the way around you. And then a hand, ghosting over your hip, traveling inch by daring inch to rest in the center of your rib cage. 

“Adam?” you whisper. It’s Adam, you’re sure. It’s Adam, your boyfriend that you love. That’s what you tell yourself as his scent surrounds you. The scent of cool peppermint, and parchment, and the plastered walls of a certain familiar stairwell. 

He doesn’t answer. Not even a nod. But your fingers come to rest over his anyway, and your back pushes against his chest anyway, and you tilt your head so slightly to the side anyway, so he can bite your pretty earlobe just. like. that. 

You tug his hand up over your breast, squeeze his broad grip around it and sigh when his thumb grazes over your nipple, poking out through the shiny fabric of your slip. He swipes over it again, and then again, until it’s hard and straining and you’re rolling your hips back into his groin.

He kisses your neck, at first just a tingling tease, and then a hard, deep, suck that makes your whole body throb. His left hand reaches around to rest on the bookshelf in front of you. You can just make out the shadows of the veins that run down his long, thick fingers, over his wrist, and up under the fabric of his sleeve. 

Now it’s his turn to guide your right hand, still clutching your breast, down along your own side, over the sultry swell of your hip, behind your back and between your bodies. He leads your hand between his legs and along the thick, hard, hungry length the waits there, tenting the fabric of his trousers and twitching at your touch. His breath brushes your ear as you run your hand back and forth, teasing the tip and trailing all the way down the length. He lets out a breathy, shaky, drawn out “yes,” so quiet you can only hear it because his lips are pressed right up against your ear. 

It sounds… enough like Sackler, you tell yourself again, and even in the confines of your own mind, you know you’re a dirty fucking liar. 

The figure steps back just a bit then, pushing you forward so you’re bent at the waist and pressed up against the shelf. You hear a zip and feel the sudden chill of air on your ass as he flips your skirt up and over it. 

The velvety length of his cock slides between your legs and along your panties, giving your aching cunt just enough friction. It moves back and forth and back and forth again, and your hips are canting in time, rolling with it to wring out every drop of pleasure you can. His warm hand runs up the length of your back and down again, squeezing the curve of your ass and digging his fingertips into it. 

It’s just then you hear a fit of squeals erupt in the next room over, and both of you freeze. The girls must have solved the lipstick riddle. You may not have much more time. 

So you rock yourself back against him again, willing him not to stop, to keep going, to give you what you need, right fucking now. 

And he does. 

A nimble finger pulls your panties to the side and his tip is pressing into you, sliding between your wet, swollen lips and stretching open your tight entrance. You can’t help letting out a whine, you just can’t, and thank god his hand flies up to clamp over your mouth. If only you could do the same as he pushes into you, buries himself deep inside in one long, slow, thrust, because he’s grunting louder than he should be and he’s spitting out a pleasure-heavy “fuck” and that’s not Sackler, you know it now for sure, and you don’t fucking care. 

His hips pull back and push forward again, harder this time. Your knees shake and you rest your ass against his weight, letting the entire length slide way, way up inside you and back out again, in a rhythm that’s all at once frenzied, and fluid, and fucking filthy. 

You’re letting out little squeaks, little moany puffs of air every time he thrusts into you. You can hardly catch your breath, and the hand over your mouth isn’t making it any easier. His left hand against the bookshelf drops down around the front of you and between your legs, resting against your clit so it presses into it with every forward thrust. You’re surrounded by him, by the way he makes your body writhe, by the sound of his own breaths through gritted teeth. You fall back against him further and further, until he’s almost entirely supporting you, canting you upward will every jolt of his hips, and you start to come all the way undone.

In one move he throws you both forward so you’re pressed flat up against the shelf, your cheek resting on the cold, smooth wood and your breasts rubbing against volumes of Chaucer and Poe and Keats. He moves the hand on your clit in circles then, buries his face in your neck, and fucks you hard and fast and furious until you’re cumming all around his cock and it’s throbbing in gratitude, pumping his sticky white seed so far inside you, you swear you can taste it. 

And then he’s out. 

He’s out, and he’s pulling your panties back over your pussy to catch whatever threatens to spill out. There’s another zip, and your skirt falls back down, and the sweat dripping down your back suddenly feels so cold. 

Your breaths both slow down. And you don’t touch. And you don’t speak. And you’ve never been more grateful for the darkness that hides expressions neither of you want to see. 

You walk to the door and rest your fingertips on the handle. 

“Thank you, Adam,” you mutter, hating yourself as you do. It’s met only with a bitter scoff, and you open the door and slither out, your legs still shaking. 

Adam’s in the living room with a couple of guys who look to be taking shots out of a teacup. He gives you a big smile when he sees you and waves you over. 

“Where were you? I couldn’t find you,” he asks as he pulls you in by your hip. You turn your face sideways to dodge his kiss, which lands on your cheek. 

“Guess it’s just a mystery.”

Adam’s all goofy smiles when everyone reconvenes in the living room. It didn’t take him long to make new friends. The volume picks up in the gathering crowd and the hostess makes her way back to the front for her big finale. 

“A crime did happen on this night, but will you guess the culprit right? Let us see if you found the clues, tell us, who do you accuse?” 

She shines a flashlight into your eyes and you squint against the yellow light. “What?”

The hostess drops the act, just for a moment. “Who do you think did it?” she urges you, and it wasn’t until now you remembered why you were all even here. 

Through the light, you can see Charlie standing at the corner of the room, his gaze cast down to the floor. He looks up through his lashes at you, a pout painting his face. 

“It was you,” you say. 

The crowd shuffles a bit as they look back to him, and he reaches in his suit jacket to pull out a little red card printed with a single word: MURDERER. He flicks it to the floor and glares your way. 

“Guilty.”

Hands clap on your shoulders and Sackler shakes you happily. Everyone’s cheering. The party’s over. But you can’t hear a thing. 

Amid the bustling crowd you lose Charlie for a second, and like a ghost, he’s gone. 

The only proof he was ever there is the lingering smell of peppermint, and the creamy white sin dripping down your thigh.  

__________

Don’t mind me, just tagging some Charlie loving pals hiiiiiiii

@direnightshade @contesa-lui-alucard @babbushka @sacklerscumrag @ohdamnadam @cowboy-kylo​

[rosella-writes]

for sten & f!mahariel: the hanged man: suspension, potential, indecision;“I can’t stay here, but I don’t know where to go. I’m stuck.”

YESSSS PERFECT this was so fun! Thanks Tas!

For @dadrunkwriting

Relationship: Sten & f!Mahariel

Rating: G

Words: 693

~~~

Sten accepted the bars for himself — whatever bas justice this woman wished to enact, he would bend himself to. The key had slid home in the lock like a sword into a scabbard.

The first day was a day of jeers and sticks poked through the bars, of stones thrown into his cage. He accepted them too. Without his sword, his badge of office, his title, his name, his self, he was nothing but an object to be thrown away.

From there, the days blended together. His thirst died away into numb lips and a speechless tongue — his hunger faded into faintness and an odd, floating feeling high in his skull. He lost track of the faces that passed by at the same time every day. Before long he was just a fixture, a part of the landscape, an eyesore the villagers were waiting on to fall apart before carting it away into the woods.

But then there was the elf.

She was too thin, too small. Almost a woman, no longer a child, but her dark eyes were cold with scepticism born of time spent harshly. Her brown face was marred with darker, patterned scars.

She had a few other half-child, half-adults with her — a skimpily-dressed female creature with a tree branch strapped to her back, wearing more baubles than a tamassran, and a blond boy in armour too big for him. Behind them lingered one of the priestesses, the one with the red hair.

The elf asked him a few pointed questions, her tone dry and strangely humourous. He felt as if she veiled her sharp perception with foppish words — he was wary of her, especially when she left with the promise of talking to the head priestess.

But then she returned with the key to his cage.

He stared at it, unsure if he wanted her to use it or not. Part of him wanted her to give him the key and leave. The other wanted to hear her strange proposal.

"You came to answer this question," she said in her clipped, wry, teasing voice. "It's easier to look for that answer with me, rather than in this cage."

He grunted, fingers twitching. "The logic is sound. But what do you stand to gain?"

She raised one brow, then scanned him from head to toe with her sharp eyes. "A man who can kill an entire farming family with his bare hands."

The boy shuffled beside her, looking like he'd like to protest. But the red haired priestess piped up instead.

"Everyone deserves a second chance. Let us be his."

Sten looked from her back to the elf in front of him, then at the key in her outstretched hand.

"Whatever you choose," she said, "this key is yours. You decide to come with me or not."

He deliberated for one frozen moment, torn between inaction and independent thought. His duty would be to stay, to sacrifice himself on the pyre of his own ineptitude — everything this elf offered him was unknown, perhaps even blasphemous.

But her logic was difficult to argue with. And he was so very, very thirsty.

"I am in need of a task," he told her, finally reaching for the key. She let him take it. "This is as good as any. I will join your honourable quest, so long as it remains so."

As he unlocked his own cage, the elf briefly closed her hands around the bars to prevent the opening of the door. She leaned close — so close he could see the raised lines of her scars. Pigment had been rubbed into them, he could see now, and he wondered what would compel a person to ornament themselves in such a pointless way.

"First," she said with a crooked grin, "what's your name?"

He grunted. "I am Sten of the Beresaad."

She nodded decisively. "Alright, Sten. I'm Rhiannon Mahariel. Now —"

Rhiannon stepped back, allowing the door to swing open.

"Come on out," she finished with a flourish of her hand.

Sten regarded them — the elf, the boy, the baubled girl, the red-haired priestess — and made his choice. He stepped out of the cage.

[afictionalwhore]

Oh Baby!

A/N: this was something sweet inspired by some of my babies at the daycare but then at 1 am, it turned into something completely different. I’ll try to make a part two out of the original idea. I struggled hard with a title. Titles are the worst

TW: mentions of kidnapping, soft yandere, smut, pregnancy

2.4K words

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Ever since Keigo kidnapped married you, he had kept you tucked away in your new home, a cozy cabin up the side of a secluded, lesser known mountain. You lived so high up in such a densely forested area that only Hawks could find you, completely cut off from the outside world. He never had to worry about you leaving, one woman with a common healing quirk that would do nothing to help in navigating down the mountain. The locals, inhabitants of a small village at the foot of your mountain, believed the woods to be enchanted, so Keigo had to worry less about a villager managing to stumble their way into your backyard.  

It wasn't so bad. Keigo made sure you were never bored. For when he wasn't home for you to tend to his needs, Keigo kept your home well stocked with books. It was the first thing he had shown you in your new home: your personal library. A whole room of the quaint house, your favorites, a whole shelf dedicated to just literary classics, as well as everything on your "to read" list. There was never a shortage of cookbooks. He was so excited that his large wings were flapping as though he were a young puppy wagging their tail, the giant scarlet curtain nearly knocking a shelf down on you.

"I hope you like it." Keigo looked at you, his eyes shining like an innocent puppy. "As much as I love you, I can't be with you all day. Someone has to keep food on the table." He chuckled while keeping a tight grip on your waist, and looking down at you expectantly.

"Oh. Thank you," you replied, your voice small, but loud enough for Keigo to hear. The hold on your waist loosened, and Keigo resumed his tour of your new home.

Of course, there was no TV, lest you stumble upon the news. While he's at it, no newspaper either. You didn't need those to know what was going on outside. It was a scary world out there, full of villains who wouldn't hesitate to snatch you up and use your healing quirk for their own. You were perfectly safe here with him. 

It took some time, but eventually you had come around and loved Keigo back. You were always curled up on the couch, book in hand, waiting for him to come home. As soon as he was in the doorway, you'd make your way to him, like clockwork, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek while helping him shrug off his heavy coat. Your voice was still small and hesitant around him, as though you were afraid of him. This irritated him, as Keigo didn't understand what could make you so jumpy still. He had never raised a hand against you. The two of you would have dinner, usually having to reheat whatever you had made because Keigo often worked overtime. Keigo was so happy you were making use of the cookbooks he gave you. 

You were turning out to be the perfect wife. Keigo was certain you loved him just as much as he loved you, or as close as someone could come to that level of love. He didn't believe anyone could match the way he felt about you. You were even going to have a kid together, a testament of your love. 

When you first announced your pregnancy to him, Keigo was ecstatic. He had come home that day, exhausted and overworked, excited to be welcomed home by his little wife. His stomach growled as he landed in your front yard, and he wondered what you decided to cook up for him. He noticed you'd gotten experimental in your cooking, always asking how things tasted. You were so cute when you had him guess whatever secret ingredient you added. 

When you weren’t at the door to greet him with open arms and a kiss, Keigo was disappointed in you. You were doing so well. He shook off his coat and stretched his wings, taking up the better half of your living room. You weren't nestled in the couch, engrossed in a book, as you sometimes were too distracted in your literary world to realize he had come home.

"Baby," Keigo called out, his voice echoing against the wooden walls of your homely cabin. "I'm home. I know it's a lot later than usual."

 Keigo figured you must have gone to bed already. He could forgive you for not staying up for him, he thought it was rather cute, though next time, he wished you'd fall asleep on the couch. 

When he entered your shared bedroom, Keigo saw you curled up on the bed, your back facing the doorway. You trembled—or was it a shiver? You must be cold without his body heat beside you. Keigo was his own heating unit.  

“Baby bird,” Keigo took a step into the room. “I’m home."

No response from you.

Another step.

"Can I get a kiss?”

You shivered again.

Keigo had taken off his uniform as he was making his way towards you and the bed. Now in just his boxers, Keigo heaved himself on the bed, his weight causing the mattress to sink slightly. He laid on his side to spoon you, wrapping a large, warm arm around your center. At this distance, Keigo heard it: your small sniffles. You weren't asleep; you were crying.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Keigo asked, worry sickening him. "Did ya miss me that much?" He tried to joke, more for his sake than yours.

After no response from you, save for a few more sniffles, Keigo asked once again what was wrong, a little more urgently. His racing thoughts of you leaving, of you not loving him, were sending him into a panic.

You mumbled incoherently.

"What was that, baby? I couldn't hear you." Keigo struggled to hang on to his cool.

You mumbled yet again, causing Keigo's growing panic and frustration with you to snap. He clamored over you, swinging his legs so that you were caged underneath him, his hands at either side of your head. Golden eyes locked onto your watery ones, staring you down.

“(y/n),” Keigo said firmly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

"I'm pregnant" you spat at him, frustrated at the fact itself and having to repeat it three times. The more you said it felt like the final pat of a shovel packing the dirt above your grave. You wiped away a tear before turning and shoving your face in your pillow. 

“Oh baby.” Keigo was almost at loss for words. He had been anticipating this moment—stocking the bathroom cabinet with pregnancy tests the moment you arrived—yet in it, he didn’t know what exactly he wanted to say. He took your face in his hands and turned your head to look at him.

“Are you for real?”

“What would I gain from lying?” You attempted to make your words hit him like poisonous darts, but your quaking voice only managed to soften him.

“I love you so much,” Keigo dipped his head down to give you a chaste kiss, softer than his usual greedy ones, as though he were afraid of breaking you. Your eyes shut instinctively.

“This is so exciting, (y/n). You have no idea how happy I am."

A kiss to your cheek. 

 "I love you."

A kiss to your other cheek.

"I love you."

Keigo rose up on his hands and knees again.

"I promise to be the best father to our child."

You felt something splash on your cheek. You slowly opened your eyes again to see Keigo crying above you. 

"I love you, too," your voice small and shaky as you looked up at Keigo, knowing he would just continue to stare at you and cry until you said it back.

Keigo beamed down at you before dipping down for another kiss, this one a little rougher, more passionate is how Keigo would describe it.  His warm mouth worked against yours, his lips chapped slightly from the harsh wind on his rushed flight home. 

You thought Keigo would deepen the kiss, expecting to feel his impatient tongue poking between your lips and licking your bottom lip. Instead Keigo pulled away and sat back on your legs, the bottom half of his own legs tucking your legs under him. He studied your body, eyes trailing down your form, stopping briefly at your stomach. 

Keigo bent down again, lips now hungrily, but gently, pecking at your neck. He pulled your shirt off, delighted by your lack of bra underneath, before making his way down your chest to pepper your body with kisses. Between each small kiss, Keigo whispered "I love you" against your body.

His large hands came up to cup your breasts, careful not to squeeze too hard lest he hurt you. Usually Keigo would give them more attention, but that wasn't his main focus for tonight. He hummed as he kissed between them, flicking your nipples lightly. You couldn't suppress a small moan.

Spurred by your shy noises of pleasure, Keigo continued to move down your body. When he reached your lower abdomen, right below your belly button, Keigo's whispers of "I love you" grew more frantic, as though he was trying to tell the baby that was forming in you that he loved them.

When Keigo finally reached between your legs, he planted sweet kisses on the insides of your thighs while dragging your panties down. He tossed them to the side and lifted your legs onto his shoulders before nestling down. Keigo's face between your legs was hit with your heat. He inhaled your sweet scent, and his honeyed eyes looked up to meet yours.

"I love you, (y/n)," he stated before dipping down to lap at your puffy folds.

Keigo was excited, as any man in his position would be. As much as he wanted to pound into your until your voice hoarse from your cries and screams of his name, his main goal tonight was to make you feel good while being as gentle with you as possible. He was terrified of hurting his child in you because of his lack of self-control.

His tongue flicked at your clit, continuing to hold your gaze until your head rolled back with a low groan. Your hands found themselves tangling into his tousled golden hair, your back arching in attempt to push yourself into his mouth. Keigo chuckled against your swollen clit, the vibrations causing you to cry out and tug on his golden locks.

This spurred him on more. Keigo pushed a rough finger into you before hooking it and dragging slowly out of you, drawing a sweet moan of his name to fall out of your lips. This repeated motion combined with his sucking and lapping at your clit caused you to climb higher to your orgasm.

“Keigo, please,” you begged, seeking relief from the coiling in your gut.

Keigo hummed again against your clit, eliciting the same sweet moan and tug from you as before. He took his chance to slip another finger into you, curling both fingers against your spongy spot before dragging them down your walls.

"Keigo, I'm so close," you whined.

"Then come, baby bird." That was all you needed for the band to snap. Moans of his name and incoherent phrases tumbling out of your pretty lips.

While you were climbing down from your orgasm, Keigo found the time to remove his boxers.

Keigo sat down back down on the mattress, settling beside your shaking form with his back to the headboard. His own need was now too painful to ignore. Not wanting to put any unnecessary pressure on your stomach, Keigo pulled you up and into his lap, your entrance, slick with your own cum and his spit, hovered over his weeping cock, close enough for the heat radiating out of you to tease him. 

“I love you.” Keigo held eye contact with you as he sank you down on his cock, his large hands holding your hips. Once you were fully seated on him, Keigo leaned back against the headboard. He gave a few shallow thrusts to test what you (and the baby) could handle.

Keigo settled on a steady, but gentle rhythm. You splayed your hands on his broad chest as he bounced you on his cock. Despite the gentleness and the shallowness of Keigo's thrusts and your bouncing, you were quickly climbing your way to a second orgasm. Already sensitive from your first, Keigo's cockhead managed to nudge against your sweet spot with every roll of his hips.

"Keigo, I'm close." you cried, hiding your face in his neck. One of his hands left your hip to allow his thumb to roll your sensitive bud, causing your walls to tighten and convulse around him.

"Me too, baby." Keigo said, breathless. "I'm so close. So close. Come with me, baby."

With a strained groan, Keigo's thumb on your clit sped up, causing the heat that had once again built up within you to break. You scratched desperately at Keigo's back, hiding your face into the crook of his neck. Your hot walls clamped down on him, the final push Keigo needed to fall off the edge himself.

With chants of "I love you", Keigo began to hump his cum into you before stilling, his hips flush against yours, head tilted back and back arching off the headboard.

Once you had both come back to earth, Keigo laid you onto your back before pulling out his softening dick from you and rolling off you onto his side, white cum leaking out of you. 

"Not that this really matters anymore now," Keigo couldn't help the chuckle that left him. With the pad of his index finger, he pushed his now cooled cum into you. 

At that statement, the fog of your two orgasms lifted, and the realization of your situation set in; you could never leave now. You let out a choked sob as Keigo rested a hand on your stomach before pulling you into him and wrapping a large, red wing over the two of you like a personal cocoon. Nuzzling his face into your neck, facial hair tickling the crook, Keigo gave you soft kisses and gentle words of praise, chalking up your soft sobs to the hormones adjusting your body to his child.

[barnes-dameron]

As Strong as the Force

The Mandalorian x Jedi!reader

*gif not mine

Summary: After Grogu’s rescue, an arrival from an unexpected guest causes the Mandalorian to lose two of the most important things to him. 

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Kind of a sequel to Balance. Season finale spoilers, so read at your own risk The reader is gender neutral, btw

***

The rhythmic pounding of the Dark Troopers against the sealed doors didn’t scare you. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins at this point from the fighting you and the others encountered earlier. But it was all worth it. Your heart beat against your rib cage as you tightened the grip on your blaster. Ahsoka’s words rung through your head, A blaster isn’t a weapon for a Jedi. You shook it away, not needing to be reminded of your failed potential. 

You looked to the Mandalorian, wielding his beskar staff as the others stood with their weapons ready. But in a split second, everything changed when an X-wing flew by and docked in the hangar. Grogu made his way to the security screen, and reached a tiny green hand towards the hooded figure’s image. You watched as the figure weilded a lightsaber, destroying all the Dark Troopers that he encountered. Another Jedi... The pounding at the door ceased, much to your surprise, causing the Mandalorian to turn and watch the monitor screen alongside you two.

The Jedi’s skill was nothing like Ahsoka’s, but he held the same power of the Force. Slashing through the heavy droids, and crushing one like it was nothing. It was at this moment when Mando picked up Grogu, and then ordered for someone to open the doors. This was the moment that he has been waiting for. This is the missing piece that will help him complete the mission he has been tasked with. A part of you, however, wondered if he would go through with it. You couldn’t deny that you watched him grow closer to the Child, surely it will be difficult to part from him if given the opportunity.

You took a sharp inhale of breath when the dark figure entered the bridge, his green lightsaber glimmering in the muted room, the hum coming from it filling the air as everyone else remained silent. He turned off his weapon, clipping it to his belt before removing his hood. Your eyes scanned over his face, observing the sky blue eyes and sandy blond hair. 

“Luke,” you whispered, remembering the moisture farmer from Tatooine. 

You’ve seen him and his uncle many times, and you remembered how much Obi Wan worried about him. But to Luke, Master Kenobi was just Ben. It was strange to see him in Jedi robes compared to his sandy poncho. He only wore one glove on his hand, causing you to wonder what he has seen and done during all these years away from your dry home planet. You’ve heard rumors and stories, but you never believed any. The same boy who grew up on Tatooine being the one to play an essential part in the fall of the Empire. But seeing him now, you could see it was all true. He lost his boyish grin, and the look in his eyes have changed from wide eye innocence to ones who hold wisdom despite his young age. He is so different from the last time you’ve seen him, but you’ve both changed. He was now a Jedi, and you were the Mandalorian’s traveling companion. 

“Are you a Jedi?” the Mandalorian asked, as Grogu looked from his place on the seat. 

“I am,” Luke responded, folding his hands in front of him. You watched as he raised his ungloved one towards Grogu, a smile playing on his face. “Come little one.”

Grogu cooed, then looked towards you and Mando. The Mandalorian turned his head away from the Child to yours, scanning your face before addressing the Jedi.

“He doesn’t want to go with you,” he said.

“He wants your permission,” Luke replied. “He is strong with the Force, but talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect the Child, but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.”

You watched as the Mandalorian picked up the Child, holding him in his arms.

“Hey go on,” he encouraged. “That’s who you belong with. He’s one of your kind. I’ll see you again. I promise.”

You felt tears stinging in the back of your eyes as Grogu placed his tiny hand on the Mandalorian’s helmet, caressing the smooth metal. Mando raised up a hand towards his helmet. Sensing what he was about to do, you took a full step forward. You knew what his Creed meant to him, but the Child meant more. However, there was a part of you that wanted to give him the same respect before he broke his oath. You trained your eyes on the ground, resisting any temptation to look behind you. All you could hear was the Child’s cooing.

“All right, pal,” the Mandalorian said. “It’s time to go.” Grogu whined at Mando’s words, but he comforted him as any father would when letting go their child. “Don’t be afraid.”

You watched in silence as Grogu made his way towards Luke and his droid, and your heart nearly broke when it was Luke holding the little guy in his arms instead of the Mandalorian. You switched your gaze to the floor, concealing the tears that threaten to escape from your eyes.

“Come?” A voice said, echoing through your mind instead of hearing it with your ears. It wasn’t something you expected or even heard before, the sound so foreign yet familiar in a peculiar way.

You snapped your head upwards, meeting Grogu’s dark eyes as they peered into you with an expectant look. Your breath hitched as realization struck you like a force of lightening. He reached out to you. For the first time since your meeting, the little guy reached out to you. You looked to Luke with widened eyes. However he just tilted his head as he waited for your answer; he must’ve heard.

“Are you coming?” Luke asked, his blue eyes peering into yours the same way that Grogu’s did.

You began to stutter, trying to answer but not being able to form any words. This man, that you once knew as a simple farm boy from Tatooine, is now offering to teach you the ways of the Force. But in the same way, he’s asking for you to leave your companion whom you love. Your heart began to pick up as your nerves began to jumble and settle in the pit of your stomach. But you were drawn out of your thoughts and anxieties by a gentle hand that placed itself on your shoulder. By instinct, you turned your head and finally saw the face of the Mandalorian. His hair looked soft as his locks at the top of his head poked out in different directions, his lips were plush, and his eyes were a beautiful shade of brown, yet there was sadness traced within them. He brought his hand up from your shoulder to cradle the side of your face, swiping his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Go with him,” he said, his voice smooth without the helmet’s modulator.

“But what about you?” You asked, your voice trembling as a sob threatened to escape past your lips. A tear dripped out from the corner of your eye, trailing down your cheek before being swiped away from Mando’s thumb.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured. “Go with him and the kid. I’ll come back for you both.”

“Promise?” You asked, gripping his wrist, feeling the rough fabric beneath your palm.

“I promise,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.

You closed your eyes, squeezing them shut to keep away the tears. This is not how you want him to remember you, as a sobbing mess. Your heart ached in your chest at the thought of this being your last moment with him until he returns. The only time you’ve seen his face is when you have to leave. You reached up a hand, placing it on his cheek; feeling the slight stubble of hair peeking out from the skin. You opened your eyes, looking into his before Mando placed his lips on yours. It was as soft as you imagined, the gentle pressure washing away every worry that you held.

It was at this moment  you realized that Ahsoka might be wrong. Holding an attachment doesn’t make you weak, but the fear of losing the person is what does. It was at this moment, with the man you love, you knew that the Mandalorian would come back and keep his promise. You knew that you always will be with him and him with you even if you’re light years apart, in both this life and after death. The Force wasn’t the only thing that binds the universe together, but love as well. Love doesn’t make you weak, but strengthens you.

You wrapped your hands into his hair, the locks threading in between your fingers as you pulled him closer. Your chest pressed into his beskar chest plate, the coldness of the metal coming through your seemingly thin shirt material. The hand on your cheek tightened, as he placed one on your hip to hold you against him a little longer. It hurt to do so, but you had to...you pulled away from his lips and it saddened you to see him chase them for a split second. But realization and sudden acknowledgment of his surroundings caused him to pull away as well, straightening his spine as he looked at you. You gave him a smile, squeezing his hand before turning around to walk towards Luke, who was waiting patiently with Grogu and his astromech droid. Luke nodded to Mando.

“May the Force be with you,” he said, before turning away.

You walked alongside him as you approached and entered the elevator. As you waited for the doors to close, you stared at the Mandalorian, memorizing every single detail of his face, from the bridge of his nose to the little dimple on his cheek. He kept his composure, even smiling a bit, yet his beautiful brown eyes were glazed. At this point, you were no longer saddened. You knew that you will meet him again, that you would be together again. What you two had, it was something as strong as the Force.

Taglist: @absurdthirst @tangledlove27 @caswinchester2000

[mxvladdy]

Diavolo- True Form

Whoooooooo weeeee! ‘Pologies for the wait on these longer posts. I’ve been hit with a one two punch of house emergencies and sudden costly ass repairs, so my creative juices have been rightly squashed as of late.

Plus side I got my drawing tablet and drafting table back so I can neaten up my blog lay out now (yay!) 

Anyway this one was a challenge in the best possible ways. I really like Diavolo because of how little we know about him so it gave me some wiggle room. Or at least what I know of him- im only on like chapter 23 of the stories. Idk if I did him justice as this is angsty af but I sure had a blast writing it!

Hope ya like! Next up: Beelzebub 

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, and swearing. 

Diavolo-

He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.

No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.

Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.

But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the window pane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.

On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying  awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.

The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.

Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed .

You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.

He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.

You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.

Mini Fic

He didn’t know. For once in his ancient pitiful existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.

Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.

The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.

Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.

He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.

It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he wanted to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat.  

"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.

He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.

Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."

Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.

Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.

It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.

You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.

Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.

"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."

"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"

"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."

With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"

The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.

It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.

Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.

The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.

"I had not meant for it to go like this."  Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.

“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.

A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.

He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.

Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.

Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.

“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”

Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.

The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”

“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.

“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.

“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.

“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.

As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.

You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.

Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.”  

He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back?  He would let you.

You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?”  

Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.

“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.

You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.

The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.

“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”

That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”

“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.

“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself.