#currently crying sobbing and wailing

[punksnom]

When an author decides to show a snippet of what happened after the reborn mc died in their first life and it includes the ml just barely missing the chance to meet the mc and the ml just goes on living his life but vaguely feels as if something is missing

And in the end the ml won't ever know exactly what it was and how happy he could have been because their fate this time was never meant to cross

[celestialprincesse]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

When Simon had given you his work address, and the password for the door to get in, you’d scoffed at the thought of needing to use it. You’d grown comfortable in your quiet life, no longer plagued with the urge to run, with the fear of being caught up with. 

You and Charlotte. 

You’d never been able to picture your position now, shaking fingers prodding at the keypad, a crying Charlotte on your hip. So absorbed in your fear, which had struck you the moment you’d returned from Charlotte’s school pickup to see your apartment door open, that you don’t even see the bearded man opening up the door from the inside for you. 

“Everything alright, Miss?” He questions in clear concern, ushering you into the entry hall with blue eyes darting between yourself and your wailing daughter. 

“I’m here - Simon said i could find him here if I needed anything.” You hiccup, not even having noticed the tears ebbing down your cheeks, so consumed by the realisation that you need to get out. Find safety. Find Simon. Maybe even that other man you met once - Mac something.

Too distraught to protest, you allow yourself to be ushered into some sort of reception room, noting the way the older man looks behind you with a vigilant scan before shutting the door. "Is Simon Riley here?" You plead with him again, terrified at the thought of being unable to see your neighbour, having someone to soothe your wailing daughter whilst you yourself calm down.

Before the blue eyed man can get a word out, two other men are barrelling into the reception area, one of them, thankfully, being Simon. You can't help but choke out a relieved sob when he tentatively comes closer, allowing you the chance to deny his approach, which you don't.

"What happened? Can you take some deep breaths for me?"

The entire room seems to pick up into a flurry of activity the minute the other two men in the room, Simon's friend you'd met that one time, and the other man, seem to realise that not only do you and Simon know one another, but also that you and the little tot in your arms are important to him.

Simon quickly ushers you to one of the worn leather couches, although he never forces you to sit, seeing how high strung you are at the current moment, the way you clutch Charlotte to your chest like she'll be ripped from your grasp at any given moment. Meanwhile, MacTavish looks on in concern, checking the car park you'd just come in from, and the other man slowly guides a glass of water into your shaking hand.

"Door was open when I got home." You manage to choke, letting Simon ease your vice grip on your daughter, just enough to hoist her up on his hip, before pulling you into his chest.

"S' okay, yeah? Promise you're in good hands here." He soothes, rocking the three of you from side to side, taking the opportunity to share a look between Price, Soap and himself. "Listen, the boys will go and have a look, okay? Promise they won't touch anything or mess anything up, just make sure everything is okay."

You give a hesitant nod, sniffling into Simon's chest as another taller, leaner man walks into the room, his handsome features immediately twisting into concern at the odd sight.

Over the next few hours, you, Simon, Charlotte and the sweet man you'd come to know as Kyle wait out on base, nervously awaiting the return of Captain Price and Simon's closest friend Johnny.

Admittedly, your situation is terrifying, and you're still not quite sure where to go from here, but at least you're in good hands. Four pairs of them.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

[evie-sturns]

toddler - Matt Sturniolo

summary: having 2 toddlers isn't the easiest, espically when you're currently pissed at your husband matt after an argument. one night you get pushed to the point of a breakdown when the kids won't behave and matt's there to help you.

contains: dad!matt, fluff, slightly suggestive , crying, slight mental breakdown, comforting, angst?

a/n: this was loosely based off of how daddy matt was in today's vid.

----———--------------..••°°°°••..------------————

7:38pm

matt and i had an argument last night leaving me in tears, he’s been in his bedroom this whole day leaving me to deal with our two twins which are both 3 and a half.

i attempt to cook up something that somewhat resembles a dinner for our girls but the only thing occupying my mind is the events of what happened last night.

yesterday

“why is this house always so fucking messy!” matt’s voice booms throughout the living room as he abruptly stands up

“shit, i don’t know maybe because you got me pregnant at 18 and i’m the only one who does anything for the kids our this house!” i raise my voice back at him

matt lets out a shocked laugh “sorry that some people have fucking jobs and don’t lay on their ass with the kids all day and call it tiring?”

“lay on my ass? i clean, i cook, i take the girls to daycare and i bring them home, i do everything”

“if everything includes not having a fucking job and using up my money that i earn then sure, you do a whole lot” matt says with a slight attitude.

“all you fucking do is act like you have it hard when you don’t! get a fucking grip” he yells

the whole room goes silent, i erupt into tears and walk out of the room to our spare bedroom

“and always fucking crying.” i hear him scoff, only making my state worse.

—

my thoughts are cut off by a wail coming from behind me, my head spins back to see millie with a fistful of claire’s hair, yanking.

i instantly drop the wooden spoon into the pot before speed walking towards the twins

“stop it!” i yell, grabbing millie from under her arms and staring into her eyes angrily “go find daddy, not acceptable millie.” i raise my voice, placing her down.

she folds her arms with a huff, stomping her little legs down the corridor to matt and i’s shared room.

“you’re okay claire” i coo, fixing her pigtail which sits on the very top of her head

i pick her up and place her down on the couch with one of her stuffed animals before making my way back towards the kitchen.

i turn down the heat on the stovetop slightly with an exhausted sigh

suddenly i hear small giggles coming from behind me followed by the backs of my knees being pushed

“fuck!” i yell, stumbling over and grabbing the handle to the pot, spilling boiling spaghetti onto the floor, also splashing up onto my sweater.

millie goes silent before sprinting in the other direction with claire

as of things couldn’t get any worse right now i hear matt’s voice start something

“what are you actually fucking doin-“ he cuts himself off when he sees the state i’m in

i burst into sobs, matt looks down at me with concern painted across his face

“hey- shh sh you’re okay, you’re okay.” he says frantically, walking over to me and kneeling on the floor

“matt i can’t do this the kids aren’t behaving and i can’t fucking make them something they’ll like-“ i start, saying in between shaking breaths

he carefully picks me up from under my arms before switching his grip to the back of my thighs, i bury my face into his shoulders and feel matt take in panicked breaths

he speed walks us down into our bedroom at the end of the corridor, “are you hurt sweetheart?” he says, placing me down on the bed and peeling my sweatshirt off of me

“did the hot water soak through? shit.” matt says trying to stay calm.

“no-“ i sniff, rubbing my eyes. matt yanks his sweatshirt off his body and lays it across me like a blanket.

“stay right here okay? i’m gonna sort the kids out then put them to bed, then i’ll come back to talk, try get some sleep for me gorgeous.”

matt presses a kiss to my nose before rushing out of the room, leaving the door open behind him.

i have a clear view of kitchen from where i’m laying so i see matt walk into the kitchen before kneeling down

“c’mere.” he demands, sticking out his arms. millie and claire toddle over to him with a guilty expression across their face.

“tell me what’s happened.” matt says sternly, maintaining eye contact with both of them.

millie bursts into tears almost immediately as she looks at matt

matt runs his hand up and down her arm as he waits for a response

“we- we pushed mommy and she fell and spilt hot water on her and hurt her” she sniffs

“a-and.. and you’re mad at me” she continues.

“do i look mad sweetheart?” matt says softly, claire shrugs along with millie

“i’m really really sad that you weren’t behaving for mommy, and i know you know better than that right?” matt speaks

millie nods, wiping her nose with the backs of her hand

“and now i’m gonna ask you to go clean up the spill with claire and then we’re gonna go say sorry to mom okay?” he says gently, pressing two kisses to the girls forehead

they nod in unison before going into the kitchen, matt hands them the paper towels and they instantly drop down to there knees and attempt to clean the mess.

matt watches while biting his nails “why do you think you made mommy cry though?” he says, claire looks up at him with a heaped pile of paper towels in her hands

“because we were naughty.” claire sighs, matt nods while gathering the piles of drenched paper towels and throwing them away.

“what i’m ‘gonna ask you to do is sit down at the kitchen table and think about how you will say sorry to mommy tomorrow while i make you dinner okay girls?”

claire and millie run over to the dining table, more than hungry and tired now.

matt sorts through the pantry before settling on mac and cheese which i wasn’t even sure we had.

after a good 10 minutes matt brings over the two small bowls to the twins, who have been silent ever since they sat down.

“you have to eat all of this okay?” matt says while placing the bowls down. claire and millie nod

—-

8:56pm

matt finishes up the last dishes in the sink before walking over to the girls “you alright?” he asks softy before picking both of them up, one in each arm.

matt walks down the corridor, flashing me a quick smile as both the girls bury their head in his shoulders.

“they’re very tired” he mouths to me with a small laugh while walking into their shared bedroom.

i hear the door shut followed by matt walking into our bedroom. “you feeing better gorgeous?” he asks calmly as he flops down in bed beside me.

“thank you for doing that.” i sigh, rubbing my eyes with my palms.

“don’t thank me? i’m their dad and i realise that after yesterday’s.. argument that you’re right and i do need to start caring more.” matt looks over at me.

“you don’t have to just say that” i whisper

“i’m not just saying that, i actually mean it.” matt responds with an unreadable expression

“the shit you said last night..” i start, my voice wobbling “i’m gonna find it hard to forget, because i know that in that moment you meant it.”

matt goes silent,

“and i know that you’re busy but i try, so hard to make you and the girls happy, meaning that i don’t have free time to work because everything i do is for you?” i keep going, several tears now rolling down my cheeks

“so you saying that you should help our more around the house and pretending like everything’s perfect between us isn’t gonna fix shit.”

i physically can’t keep speaking unless i want to start sobbing so i stop, taking in a shaky breath.

matt doesn’t say anything back, instead sitting up and grabbing me and pulling me into a deathly tight hug.

the few tears that fell dampen the shoulder of his shirt as he rubs my back.

“i don’t even know how to apologise.” matt says, his voice trembling.

“please- don’t cry.” he whispers, “i’m just really tired” i squeeze out

“i know i’ve been a shit.. person for the past year or so and trust me, you and the girls are on my mind every single minute of every day and- and there’s no excuse for what i said yesterday except for the fact i wasn’t thinking straight.”

matt rambles

“i shouldn’t have yelled, or said anything. i know, i know you have it way harder than me, and i’m not just saying that it’s true.”

“you don’t have to forgive me at all today, tomorrow or in general for this but i love you and i’m so sorry.”

matt finishes by pulling away to look at my face, which he cups in both his hands.

“thank you.” is the only thing i reply with, somewhat shocked by that 2 minute long tangent.

matt lays back down on the matress, pulling me towards him. i lay my head down on his chest with a deep breath in, instantly falling asleep

————

9:56am the next day

the morning sun burns into the side of my face as i roll over in bed,

my eyebrows knit together when i realise matt’s not next to me like normal.

i sit up in bed, wiping my eyes as i attempt to run my fingers through my tangled hair.

i stumble out of bed towards the door of our bedroom, gripping the handle lazily and swinging it open.

the whole house is perfectly clean “what the fuck..” i mumble to myself as i walk into the living room where my eyes lay on my favourite sight

my 3 favourite people, matt claire and millie are sat on the sofa, matt’s in the middle and the girls are cuddled up to his side while matt holds open a picture book which he stops reading when i walk in.

“good morning pretty” matt smiles stupidly, i grow a small smile on my face.

“i think that someone has something to say to mom?” matt says, looking down at each of the girls.

they run up to me and wrap their arms around each of my legs “were really sorry” claire says, i bend down to their height and give them a smile

millie follows up with a “and i’m sorry for hurting you a- and i love you a lot!” she says with a cute smile.

“it’s okay sweetheart, i love you.” i grin, wrapping my arms around them before standing back up.

“and i’m gonna make it up to you tonight” matt says quietly while walking over to me

“matthew bernard! you horny mother fucker” i whisper.

————

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209

[raitonsfw]

thinking about fushiguro toji...

and him completely failing to calm down crying baby megumi.

he’d look at you with a bit of a desperate look as he held the small child over the crib, who was currently wailing at the top of his little lungs. and of course, you’d help the poor man because he had no fucking idea what he was doing.

“why’s he crying huh? did i do something wrong?” he’d ask you, plopping megumi into your outstretched arms, his tiny fingers wrapping around yours with a quiet sob. and you figure it out immediately, his other hand practically being gnawed on– he was hungry. 

but how would toji know that– he's not a mother. hell, he’s barely a father. he couldn’t tell his left foot from his right, let alone figure out a baby’s needs; whether it be a bottle or a nappy change. and you were thinking of having a kid with him once megs was older? yeah, that was going to be an ordeal alright. 

and when you did get pregnant, barely half a year later– he was freaking the fuck out. his mind raced, he wasn’t ready for this; as megumi climbed onto his lap to play with a race car toy. 

“you think the baby’ll hate me like megs…” he’d question as his large hands held your bump while you lounged on the sofa, the tv blaring with some type of sport. his eyes would peer up towards yours as his thumbs swiped over your waist, anxiousness overtaking his expression. “…i mean, he couldn’t even give me the damn satisfaction of his first word.” 

and of course he’d still be pressed about cat being baby megumi’s first word, the poor bastard… you’d chuckle at the thought – at the pout that toji gave you – and you’d reach down to assure him that the baby would love his father. and he’d huff against your belly, giving it a defeated kiss before the baby monitor sounded next to you two.

“megumi’s up... your turn, y/n.”

© raitonsfw hc's '24 • dad! f. toji • divider credit; @hitobaby

a/n: no smut this time, next time mayhaps. i really just needed to get this outta my system.

[luvlyycy]

— a/n : , , thought this up w @cindol in a legit heartbeat ! bestfriend!sukuna... my beloved . . maybe I'll make a pt 2 iunno!

wc : , , 1k + !

summary : , , sukuna punches ur bf thats it. thats the fic. (angst/comfort)

Sukuna hates it. Everytime he looks at your face he's reminded of how weak and vulnerable he becomes. It's the classic sun and moon duo, and he hates it.

You're always going to him for your 'boy' problems, painting his nails as you yap on about this one boy in your class. You say how handsome he is or how nice his hands look. You've never said anything like that about him, but he doesn't care; or he tells himself that.

He'll often leave snacks on your table before your lectures, or drinks next to you at lunch. It's a small reminder that he cares about you.

Everyone says that he's a bad influence on such a kind, pretty girl like you. You never listen. Glued to his side as you walk down the long hallways, his piercings and black leather jacket a contrast to your beautiful outfit, the complete opposite of his.

You don't share dorms, and he wishes he put his pride aside and requested that you did. It's bothersome, having to make his routine of walking to your dorm, catching the eyes and hearing rumors of the two of you dating on the way.

Although, the snacks he hold are currently on the floor as the door opens, his lip curling upward and nose flaring in anger as he spots him— Satoru Gojo.

"What the fuck—"

He's leant against the door, a shit eating grin plastered on the face he's ready to punch the shit out of.

Is that lipstick on his fucking neck?

"Small world, huh?" Gojo chuckles out, turning around to face you, then back at Sukuna, "Guess I should tell ya. We're datin' now." .

There's a loud crash and a blur that you see as your boyfriend stumbles backwards, his hand holding his jaw.

Sukuna punched your boyfriend.

Sukuna just fucking punched your boyfriend.

You exclaim with a loud 'what the fuck' and get up from the bed, the blanket falling to pool around your legs.

Sukuna grits his teeth together as he sees you.. clad in panties and an oversized black shirt.

He begins to laugh and turns right back to Gojo, finally noticing that he's shirtless. He barks out a loud laugh and places his hand over his face, "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Gojo throws his hands up, "What the hell is your problem?!" and Sukuna stops to look at you, then back at Gojo.

He points at the both of you, "Whatever the fuck this is, I don't want to be in between it. If I am in between it— your fucking little punk ass boyfriend— is getting punched again."

"Again?" Gojo laughs out, stepping closer to Sukuna, "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

You sharply yell out Gojo's name but Sukuna speaks over you, "Doesn't fucking matter you puss—" a loud 'thwack!' is heard as you see your best friend this time stumble backwards.

Blood runs down Sukuna's nose before he wipes his messily with his thumb, bringing up his fists in a messy fighting stance. He's far too angry to fight for real.

You've seen him fight, and it's nothing like what you're seeing.

They're going back and forth, Sukuna punching Gojo in places that are sure to bruise within a few hours. Gojo pushes Sukuna against the wall with his forearm against his neck as he spits some awful insults into his face, only for Sukuna to spit his own blood directly onto his cheek.

You hear Sukuna laugh, and before you know it, you're wailing; sobbing like a baby if you will.

They both turn to you, Gojo still holding a squirming Sukuna against the wall.

You've never liked violence— and Sukuna can't help but wonder, is that why you chose Gojo? Was he too.. violent?

"Get the fuck off of me— She needs me—" Sukuna shouts and Gojo cuts him off, "She doesn't need you, she needs me."

Oh. Oh.

He's right. Gojo's ... right.

His ears are ringing as he watches you cry, feeling Gojo inevitably let up on his neck and make his way over to you. He cradles you, his hands on your cheeks as he wipes your tears and snot away.

He can't tell if he's lightheaded or he's about to cry. He doesn't want to know. He doesn't say anything, just makes his way toward the door, exiting out and stepping over the drinks and snacks he had dropped earlier.

You don't need him.

Sukuna shuts the door and looks down at his hands, turning them over to look at his visibly red and bloody knuckles. More eyes are peering at him as he walks down the hallway.

It feels empty despite all the people out of their rooms due to the commotion. His phone is buzzing in his pocket the whole time, no doubt that it's you but he doesn't check.

You don't need him.

His chest fucking hurts, and he feels his eyes tear up for once. He frowns, still tasting the blood from his busted lip.

You don't need him.

Once he gets to his room, he undresses and plops down onto his bed— he's lost. He doesn't know what to do until—

He does.

He ignores you for a week, maybe two.

He often finds himself looking at the messages you sent, endless questions flooding his messages but the last one stands out.

It simply reads, 'what did i do?'.

You never needed him that's what you did. He slaps his hands against his face as he gets ready for a day of ignoring you again, he pulls a plain hoodie over his head.

He notices the nail polish on his nails is chipped almost completely off. Probably some weird metaphor for your and his friendship.

He makes his way out the door, almost recieving a heart attack as he sees you— eyes puffy and red, only in an oversized shirt and sweatpants.

" 'Kuna." you sniff, hands wiping your eyes, "What'd I do? Why did you punch Gojo? What happened?" you whine in the hallway.

Eventually you're yanked into his room and placed onto his bed, still lightly sobbing as you look up at Sukuna.

"I just, felt like punching him."

"Bull fuckin shit."

Potty mouth.

He sighs, wiping your eyes like he'd usually do before that day.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it. You don't need me." You're silent, and he looks dead serious.

"....What?"

"You don't—" "No, I heard you. I'm just, confused."

He frowns, this is the first time he's said it out loud, let alone explain it.

"I- I do need you!" you suddenly exclaim, hands gripping onto his wrists, "Fuck, Sukuna, I need you so bad." he watches more tears spill and he can't help but frown even more.

"No, you don't—"

"I do!" you cut him off, sobbing, "Remember when I had my period and had no pads? You got them for me. Or, or, whenever I got depressed you would stay in my room and make sure I ate and drank. You don't remember that? Or, when you beat up those guys who tried to bully me?? Or when... I had those silly nightmares—" you let out a soft hiccup, "and you let me sleep in your room and hug you until I fell asleep?".

He stares at you.

"I do need you, more than anyhing."

If he wanted to be vulnerable, he'd be crying right beside you, instead he whispers your name.

He crouches in front of you, a weak smile spreading across his lips as he watches you weakly reciprocate.

You laugh, and he does too, "We're fucking idiots." he laughs out, moving closer to you.

You place your hands softly on his cheeks and look at his face, "It's all my fault— I was stupid, and didn't realize in time and, and, I left Gojo when you guys fought—" he sighs.

It takes a few moments for you to realize but he kissed you.

He finally kissed you. You both melt into each other, molding into the perfect mix of night 'n day. It sparks, like the stars in the night sky and your brain clears like a sunny day.

He pulls away to whisper, "Sleep in my room." you giggle, "It's not even nighttime." and he spares a moment to smile, "Yeah, and? You need a nap."

"I do. I do need a nap actually."

You do need him.

[jesuistrestriste]

Tying subby Art down to the bed with ribbons, edging him over and over because he was being a fuckin brat. He'd look so damn pretty with tears staining his cheeks, just begging, "Please, mommy, please! I promise ill be good!" Crying harder when you slap him, telling him to shut the fuck up and stop whining (i KNOW this man whimpers)

Art Donaldson had known this was coming. Or, he really should have. He’d gotten mouthy with you. If he had corrected his behavior, he wouldn't currently have his arms tied up to the bed while you straddled his thighs and made his life a living hell. Sigh, if only he had just thought ahead.

His little quips of mumbled attitude throughout the day had made you grow increasingly frustrated. And they were so incessant that you had started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose. The last straw came when he had said something along the lines of "can you please just fucking touch me? you're being so rigid right now.."

Oh? He wanted to be 'fucking touched'?

He thought you were being 'rigid'?

Fine. You'd give him something to really whine about.

-

And that you did.

Art's body is shaking furiously under your seat over his legs, his hips jolting and squirming over the bed as his head tips back and he sobs. Big, fat, heavy tears pour down the sides of his face, but they did nothing to convince you to relent.

Your hand had been furiously stroking his aching cock for the past hour and a half. It was brutal. The stiffened, throbbing flesh had gushed more spurts of precome than you could ever count or keep track of, and it was now coated in a slimy film of his own filth mixed with the water-based lube you poured over him every fifteen minutes to keep him slick.

You had denied him ten times so far. The tears had come after the fourth denial. It was all downhill from there.

He's now crying so hard that his chest is heaving, but you opt to rub your free hand over his contracting abdomen as you touch his erection instead of letting him come. Because, after all, he'd been a brat all day. He deserves this. Deep down, under the layers of faint resentment, desperation, anguish, and hopelessness, even he knows he deserves this.

His blonde curls are a mess against the pillow, and his wrists are starting to feel raw from the constant tugging on the thick, satin ribbons holding his hands in place and away from his body (and yours). All that truly keeps him from bucking up into your hand the way he so desperately wants to is your firm seat over his trembling legs. You keep him in place. You keep him grounded. Physically, if not mentally and emotionally.

As your hand moves up to quickly fist his sensitive tip in your grasp, a slurry of precome comes dribbling out and Art's body all but snaps in half as his back arches up from the mattress and he lets out a wail of a moan.

"Please!" he cries, his head thrashing against the plush cushion underneath, his hands once again involuntarily yanking at the bondage, "Ugh—! I can't do any more! No more! N-No more!"

You smile.

He hiccups and tries to swallow down another sob before he chokes on it and it comes tumbling out from his lips anyway.

If he really wanted to stop, he'd say the safeword. Even in the most intense depths of his submissive mindscape, he could say the word to you. Through tears, through thrusts, through anything. So you didn't stop. He could take some more.

You shake your head, your hand on his abdomen rubbing in slow, comforting circles as you look over his flushed body. Your hand on his pulsing length twists around his cockhead as your wrist rolls, and your palm glides over his leaking slit in one long, languid stroke. He immediately keens and his eyes roll back as he tugs at the ties again.

"Be quiet, Art," you say, your hand circling his tip before it goes back to stroking him fully up and down, "you're fine. You were a bad boy today, so do you really think I'm gonna let you off so easy? Be still."

He starts to shake his head as he whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut, before he nods reluctantly and tries to steady his twitching and shuddering.

He wants to grab your thighs, your forearms, or, hell, even the sheets. He'd grab whatever was available at this point if he could, but he can't. So he settles for wrapping his hands around the length of ribbon that connects each knot around his wrist to the appropriate spot near the headboard.

He'd torn his hands up on multiple occasions from playing tennis. The stinging callouses that bled when he carried on without bandaging were more tolerable than this. By far. He'd take a handful of those over any more of this agonizing torture. And he'd say this to you if he could speak instead of bawl. Maybe then you'd believe how badly he needs to finish.

He manages to pull himself together just enough to lift his head up and look to you as he miraculously slurs out some words through his tears. Two fresh ones drip down his pink cheeks as he attempts to barter with you.

"Please— Oh, please—!" he whined, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you feel hot all over, "I promise I'll be good now! I swear-!"

You frown and stroke him faster, before your hand over his stomach lifts up and you lean in to swiftly slap him across the the face. It was hard enough to make a sound, but certainly not hard enough to do any actual damage to his pretty cheek.

Just hard enough to hurt and make a point.

His head snaps to the side with the force of the hit, a red tint beginning to creep over his delicate skin, and he lets his head fall back onto the pillow again. A loud, painful whimper erupts from his chest as new waves of tears fall.

Impact-play is something he enjoys, especially during times like this, but he makes that hard to believe when he only goes and cries harder in response.

"You seriously need to learn when to shut your mouth," you snap, "no more whining or I'll just leave you here like this for the rest of the night."

"Nooo," he sobs in defeat. Your words burn him, but they burn so good. His orgasm is creeping in quickly again, but he knows you'll stop it before he gets there.

If you pay attention, it's easy to observe that Art has tells for when he's about to release. He goes from loud moans to stifled, shaky gasps that increase in pace and frequency. He goes from harsh jolts and convulsions to being stiff as a board. His body's sensitivity lets him be an open book. He's an easy read, that's all. And oh boy, can you read him well.

His bodily reactions and habits—at the very least—make your job easier. If he was less sensitive and less reactive, you would have a much harder time edging him properly. That's for sure.

Eventually, after two more denials, you decide to let him finally finish. He almost doesn't believe it when you keep stroking him after he's already stiffened up and gone quiet. His brows are all pinched up and his eyes are squeezed shut as the ribbon digs into his flesh. His hips can't really buck into your touch with you still sitting over him, but he tries anyway while he tenses up all over. His lips part in a silent, anticipatory moan.

Your hand gives him four solid pumps after his body warns you of the rapidly building pleasure, and then Art is cumming with a sharp cry.

His entire form shudders as his heels dig into the bed, and he nearly bucks you off of him like a startled horse from the force and intensity of his orgasm. Your eyes stay fixed to his sensitive parts in your grasp as his balls empty completely over your hand and his lower abdomen in thick, sticky ropes.

It's a heavy load. It's so much that it almost looks like someone spilled a bunch of translucent, sugary icing all over his body and between your fingers. it's so much that it almost seems inhuman. It just goes on and on and on. And he just moans and moans and moans.

"Yess-ss—! Ohh—! yesyesyesyes—!"

"Ahh! AH! Mmngh—!"

He makes the prettiest sounds.

You pump him faster.

You milk him until he gets oversensitive and starts to whine, squirming and panting and gasping for air, and then you finally (finally) let him go.

He collapses down instantly, twitching with the aftershocks, but laying completely spent like a puppet with cut strings. He's beautiful.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," is all he can slur out as his eyes remain unfocused and lidded.

"You're welcome," you say.

your voice is tender and helps to bring him down. In a moment or two, you'll untie his wrists and press a kiss to each. You'll bring him a glass of water and grab a towel to clean him up after you wash your hands. You'll hold him and cuddle him and stroke his sore muscles as he buries his face in your neck. You'll tell him you love him, and how good he did until he can fall asleep.

You wear him out like a dog sometimes, but if you asked him to bark.. who's to say he wouldn't?

All that Art knows as he drifts off is one truth:

He's never going to be bratty ever again.

[ari-cuno]

Feelings are hard.

A quick Aim and Axel drabble

Tw: Angst, Post-Partum Depression (implied) , sickness

Axel belongs to me

Aim belongs to @zu-is-here

Anko was just an accident…a fluke. Certainly not an unwanted accident, just a little blip that wasn't planned.

Axel certainly hadn't planned on becoming a parent so soon out of all his siblings, especially his sisters, with their already blooming relationships. He was alone for the most part before this, the girl of his dreams having rejected him and leaving him in the pitiful ‘friendzone’ as they say. He'd never been the best at expressing his feelings to others besides his immediate family. It was hard to ask for help, or to show weakness, especially when so many people relied on him during harsh times his parents were gone.

…and then he found Aim.

Axel had wanted to explore how far he could go in his multiverse, despite the warnings from his mother about straying too far, thinning the borders between their world and those of an entirely different multiverse. Oras had done it before when she met alternate versions of important out codes and even when communicating with the voices, but he was…in search of someone.

His worst fear was he'd be long gone by then, time was strange between worlds afterall. Axel sort of was annoyed by his parents revealing his immortality so late. He'd remembered sensing a little spark so long ago in his childhood that stuck close to his heart for so many years.

Axel searched for what felt like forever, a grassy field before him with a tall, healthy apple tree in front of him. When all hopes seemed lost he hadn't noticed a much larger skeleton looking surprised a few feet away from him.

“...Can I help you?”

Axel laid his head on the soft cushion tiredly, although it did nothing to stop the constant aching sensation in his body.

…no one had told him being a parent could be so scary.

There were never any troubles with Anko. He'd appeared one day, only serving to complicate the relationship between Axel and the couch potato Aim had reserved himself to. He wasn't born by normal means, he'd just appeared one day, a happy little accident that was quickly accepted into the family.

But this was different.

The baby currently curled up in the bed in front of him wailing away hadn't been made like that.

Axel understood Aims' way of affection, he understood and respected that way in which he showed it. There had been a spark one day, and whether they thought of it or not, a decision was made. Axel had wanted more, he'd wanted love, he wanted to be someone worth loving…but also love others that way too.

…

“Shhh…” Axel tried to hush the suffering little girl gently, her soft cries making it hard for him to focus his own thoughts. It was hard being weak for so many months, the vulnerability was foreign to him, even with the support he was shown. And yet…things hadn't been okay.

He was scared, oh so scared. Eve, his beautiful daughter, their beautiful daughter… had been born sick.

She was sick, and they didn't know why. Her body and soul were weak, leaving her vulnerable and frail. Despite his powerful magic and blood…what could have gone wrong?

Axel tried so hard, he tried to give her whatever worked to ease her pain. It had been several weeks since her birth…and it had gotten worse. Nothing was working, she still coughed, cried, and the most he could do was hush her for but a brief moment. He'd left her older brother with his parents for the time being.

It would be scary if Anko saw one of his parents crying.

It made him feel weak and ugly, but the tears streamed down his face as he reached out, holding Eve's little hand with a gentle yet fierce grip. It was hard to resist the urge to make his crying vocal, but he choked back little sobs as he stared down at her. It wasn't fair. She didn't deserve to suffer so young. It was terrifying, he wasn't…wasn't sure how she would feel better- *if* she would feel better-

“...Axel?”

Axel took a deep breath, quickly trying to wipe his tears away and hide the stains left on the blanket below. “A-Aim… ?” He said, silently cursing himself for stuttering like a fool.

Aim was there, orange tinted goggles and the large body of a huggable man. Even through the goggles he could see the concern on the tallers face. “Everything okay? I heard her crying, but…” Aim paused, watching Axel desperately trying to recompose himself.

“...Were you crying-”

He was going to hate himself for this later.

Axel practically fell into the man he loved for most of his life. He buried himself in his taller frame, unable to stop the cries from coming out. He needed this…

Aim was momentarily stunned as Axel sobbed, weeks of pure exhaustion, worry, and fear crashing down on him in an instant.

“I'm sorry…” Axel apologized quietly, trying to calm himself down. “She's not getting better…I don't know what to do…”

There was a heavy silence.

“I'm scared…I can't do this alone…” Axel finally confessed, “...I need you. I want to be more with you…“ he whispered in a slight pleading tone.

“I love you...”

[ssahotchnerr]

i just rewatched the fisher king and all I can think about is Hotch gently rocking jack's stroller as he spoke to Hailey

And it got me thinking what if he did the same with baby Ellie but in less gruesome and stressful moments 💀 like she had been crying for her daddy all day so you decided to take her to see aaron, after making sure he wasn't too busy or anything

And he just has that big smile on his face when he sees you with little Ellie in her stroller, immediately putting his arms out so he can pick up his little girl 🥹

He keeps her up in his office, away from all the noise and whatnot and just either holds her in his arms while talking to her and doing paperwork (we love multitasking) or just rocking her stroller while talking to her 🥹🥹🥹

i am currently dying thank you

🥺🥺🥺 ellie’s the biggest daddy’s girl there ever was

like the second she left aaron's arms that morning when he had to go, instant tears - which he felt horrible to leave too :( he tried holding her for just a few minutes longer, but that did nothing because again, he inevitably had to go. at this point ellie knows how to say dada too, so that's mixed with her wailing, and it's just heartbreaking :((((( like him closing the door to the sound of her crying, calling for him, tore up every piece inside of him 🥺

when he gets to the office, aaron's not in the best mood so to speak, he's rather grumpy >:(, but he eagerly gets busy just for the day to go by quickly. back at home, there's literally no luck in calming her, so around aaron's lunch break, you call and ask if you're able to see him for a moment/drop her off for a while (you’ve been aching to go grocery shopping too, but bringing a sobbing baby would not make the trip enjoyable for anyone). it's merely a paperwork day, so aaron accepts at once and tells you to please come

ellie continues to sniffle and cry for him in the car, but the second the two of you enter the bau, it switches off - as if she knows where she is and who she's about to see. and when she does see aaron !!!!! :DDDDD it's as if her treacherous morning never existed she's ALLLL smiles <333 she's instantly making grabby hands at him, babbling, and the second she's in his arms, she's burying her little face into him ☹️🥺🥹🥹💓💞💓

in his office, (also crying at the visual of him lifting her stroller up the few short stairs to it) she's in his arms with him as he works until she falls asleep, and then she's in her stroller (which doesn't take long because poor baby girl wore herself out) he's gently pushing her back and forth, whenever someone comes into his office to give him papers/to talk, he makes sure they're on the quieter side as to not wake her too. hehe the team also keeps coming in to visit and gush over ellie 🥹<3333 especially penelope. hehe aaron repeatedly has to tell her to stay in her bat cave to get work done, but he loves it 🥰🥰🥰🥰 it pulls a smile out of him every time

[edenesth]

[7:29 PM]

Stumbling into the shared apartment with Yeosang, you swiftly covered your mouth to suppress any whimpers upon seeing your boyfriend peacefully napping on the living room couch.

After carefully placing your heels by the shoe rack, you quietly tip-toed past his slumbering figure and slipped into your shared bedroom, closing the door behind you with utmost care to ensure he wasn't disturbed from his much-needed rest.

It was only upon reaching the sanctuary of your room that you collapsed onto the bed, tears streaming down your face as you cradled your injured arm close. It had been a horrible day, marked by a minor accident at work amidst ongoing tensions with your boss and difficult encounters with customers. Throughout the day, you struggled to keep yourself together, merely waiting for this moment to release all pent-up emotions.

As you sobbed into your pillows, the door to the room creaked open, causing you to panic. Swiftly wiping away your tears, you sat up, trying to compose yourself.

"Darling, you're back already? Why didn't you come say hi to me first, hm? I've been waiting," Yeosang's voice greeted you as he entered the cosy space, "You know you could've just woken me up..."

His words trailed off as he noticed your bandaged arm and tear-stained cheeks, "I-I'm sorry, Yeo, it's just—" You couldn't stop the sobs escaping your lips at the sight of his concerned expression, cursing yourself internally for being such a crybaby.

Hearing your anguished cries, his heart clenched, and he swiftly moved to join you on the bed. He pulled you close, showering your head with tender kisses, "Hey, hey, it's okay. What happened to your arm? Are you alright? Please, talk to me, darling."

Your sobs only grew stronger in response to his care. Nestling your head against his neck, you stuttered out, "One of my c-colleagues didn't see me approaching and accidentally s-swung her envelope opener toward me. I tried to shield myself with my arm, and that's how..." You gestured to your injured arm, feeling miserable.

"I'm so sorry, darling. Why didn't you tell me? I could have picked you up from work if I had known you were hurt. And don't try to hide it from me; I know that can't be the only reason you're upset." He whispered, his lips gently pressing against your temple as he offered a comforting squeeze, careful not to worsen the pain in your arm.

The following words that left your lips broke his heart, "I d-didn't want to burden you with something so trivial, Yeo. You're already s-so busy; my work troubles must seem insignificant compared to yours."

Drawing back a bit, he cupped your face, meeting your tear-filled gaze, "What did I tell you about thinking like that? Your problems, no matter how minor you think they are, bother me if they bother you. I never want you to keep things from me again, understand? Promise me you'll always come to me first, no matter what."

He couldn't help but chuckle when your only response to that was an adorable wail, finding your vulnerability endearing as you nuzzled your face against his shoulder once more, "Y-you're the best boyfriend ever, Yeo. I l-love you so much."

Placing a gentle kiss against your hair, he grinned softly, "I love you too, darling. More than you can imagine. Now, I want you to tell me every single thing that happened at your workplace today. I'm not usually one for aggression, but I won't hesitate to deal with anyone who dared make you cry."

With a light giggle, you pulled away slightly, "Oh, you wouldn't, you little Maltese."

You squealed as he playfully tackled you onto the bed, glad to see you lightening up and teasing again as he leaned in for a firm kiss.

"A Maltese, huh? I'll show you a Doberman."

ATEEZ Masterlist

This was super self-indulgent. I had a horrible day and ended up getting hurt in a rather similar fashion yesterday. Also wanted to show Yeosang some love after all the hate he's received for his role in my current Seonghwa series HAHA

Speaking of which, part 14 of The Way to His Heart should be out by this weekend! Hang in there, my lovelies! As always, thanks for reading and lmk your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho @cereal-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[writinginatree]

Breakfast Gone Wrong

Relationship(s): The lost boys & reader

Summary: You get hurt by what was supposed to be your victim, and your overprotective vampire brothers get overprotective.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, injury, blood drinking, swearing, vampire!reader, written from David's point of view.

Requested by @mizgames way back in February. I'm so so sorry for taking so extremely long to get this done. It's also a little different from your exact request because I remembered it wrong and didn't read the request again before I started writing, but I hope you still like it anyway!

David knew it was a bad idea to let you hunt on your own. He fucking knew it. That's all he can think of as he rushes to your side, following your pained screams. He should have never let you out of his sight, but you were just so goddamn stubborn he hadn't been able to change your mind. In a fit of what he can only classify as teenage rebellion, and for absolutely no reason other than being a brat, you had suddenly decided that you're a big, grown-up vampire perfectly capable of hunting alone. And David, wrapped around your little finger as he is, had given in and agreed, despite knowing he shouldn't.

He told you not to go too far away from him and the others, to pick an easy victim, to call him if you needed help.

And now here you are, writhing in the sand with a wooden stake through your stomach. He left you unsupervised for five, ten minutes at most. This will definitely have been the last time he ever let you out of his sight. He'll be damned if he takes the risk of something like this ever happening again. Nope, you're grounded — for the rest of all eternity.

The asshole who did this is currently being torn apart by Paul and Marko, while Dwayne is already kneeling by your side, assessing the graveness of your injury. David joins him, since the feral blondes clearly don't need his help. He wordlessly holds you down as Dwayne pulls the wood from your body.

You cry out in pain, try to sit up and get away, but David is stronger and keeps you in place.

He's looking anywhere but at your face. If there's one thing he can't stand it's seeing you suffer. If he looks at your tearstained face for too long he might just start crying too.

Finally Dwayne has pulled the stake — which on closer inspection is just a branch that was probably meant to feed a bonfire — free, and your wails die down into soft sobs. He lifts your head onto his lap, stroking your hair, as David holds your hands and murmurs soothing words.

Paul and Marko drag what's left of your attacker over to you, letting his blood trickle directly into your mouth. You instinctively gulp it down, though David is pretty certain you don't even consciously notice anything going on around you through the pain clouding your mind.

You'll need a lot more blood than what's left in this guy to regain your strength. In their ripping him to shreds, Marko and Paul wasted a lot of the precious liquid, which now uselessly stains the sand a few feet beside your weak form. David decides it's only fair if they're the ones to have to go and find another victim to feed you with, while he and Dwayne watch over you.

For a moment he considers immediately taking you back to the cave, but dismisses the idea as quickly as it came. With how weak you are, David doesn't want to risk moving you just yet. Not until they've gotten some more blood into you.

The other two have only been gone a few minutes, but David can't take watching you like this any longer. He pushes back his sleeve and pierces his skin with his fangs, holding the wound to your lips. You instantly start sucking his blood, and he can almost watch as some semblance of life slowly returns to your face.

"Don't give them too much," Dwayne cautions. "You weakening yourself too is the last thing we need right now."

"I know."

"They'll be fine."

"I know," David repeats, and it's halfway true. The logically thinking part of him does know that. But there's also that other part, the part that can't watch you cry, the part that would go insane if he lost you. It's the same part of him that upon meeting you all those years ago instantly declared himself your older brother, a feeling that has only been amplified after being turned into vampires. He doesn't doubt the others feel the same. As the youngest of their group you have them all extremely protective over you, though David is aware he's the most protective of you by far. Maybe even a bit too much so, though he would never admit that. It's only natural, he thinks, after all he was the first to become your brother.

But Dwayne is right, he shouldn't let his feelings get the best of him. You're going to be okay. Paul and Marko should be back with a human blood donor for you soon, anyway. He just wanted to make sure you could hold out until then.

Now you almost look strong enough to drain a victim yourself if they hold it down for you, and after you feed you'll definitely be strong enough to sit on David's bike and let him take you back to the safety of the cave. He almost thinks you'll even be strong enough to be a brat and protest, but David will not let you change his mind about grounding you. Your safety comes first, your happiness second.

He pries his arm from your mouth and wipes a few stray drops of blood from your chin with his gloved hand.

You blink up at him, seemingly a lot more aware of your surroundings than just a couple minutes ago.

"How are you feeling, kitten?"

"Ouchie."

David chuckles despite himself. "Yeah, you could say that. What were you thinking?!"

"He looked like an easy victim..." Your voice is weak, hoarse with tears, but David is relieved you're already wearing your typical bratty pout again. "How was I supposed to know he'd try and gut me?!"

"People tend not to like it when you're trying to kill them."

"That's not a reason to stab someone!"

David thinks of all the times you came close to biting his or one of the other boys' fingers off for minor offences like wanting a bite of your food or wiping dirt from your face. Just last week you threatened to stab David with your ice cream cone because he said you couldn't stay at the boardwalk any longer if you wanted to be home at the cave before the sun came up.

"Uh-huh."

He shares a look with Dwayne, and knows he's thinking the same thing.

Just then Paul and Marko come back, a woman's limp body hanging between them. They dump her beside you. "Here, baby, we knocked her out for you."

For a moment you just stare, like you're not sure what you're supposed to do with her, or too exhausted to lean over and bite her. But then you move, sinking your teeth deep into her throat and David smells the blood when your teeth break the skin.

The boys sit around you in a protective circle and watch as you drink. They're hungry too, after all they barely had time to find victims of their own, let alone suck them dry, before your cry for help drew them away. But they hold back. They can wait.

Silently communicating they agree to bring you home, and then go out to feed in pairs, so there's always two of them with you. It's an unnecessary precaution, of course, but that doesn't bother them. It will bother you — or at least you'll say it does. You always pretend to be annoyed by their protectiveness, by being babied by them so much, as you like to phrase it. But the way you always hide under David's coat, make Paul give you piggyback rides and Dwayne read to you, and insist on Marko doing your hair for you says different. You might be pissed at David for grounding you, but he doesn't doubt you'll secretly love being the center of attention like that — even more so than usual.

Paul has curled up by your side now, arms wrapped around you and nuzzling his head against your shoulder. You briefly interrupt your feeding to hiss at him. David is glad to see it — the fact you're defending your food is a sure sign you're feeling better.

When you're done there's blood smeared all over your face. Dwayne wipes it away with his flag, making you whine and try to push away his hands. "I'm not a baby, Dwayne!"

Oh yes, you're definitely feeling better.

Still, you allow David to pick you up and carry you back to where the bikes are parked, snuggling against his chest and refusing to be put back down when you've reached the bikes. David sighs and climbs on his bike with you, sitting you in front of him and telling you to hold on tight to him, despite you already doing that.

Back at the cave you still refuse to let go, so David carries you inside and settles in your favorite spot — a sort of nest you've built in a small alcove going off the main cave, consisting of a mattress covered in a pile of countless fluffy blankets and pillows, with all the stuffed animals the boys have won for you at the boardwalk over the years strewn all over the place — with you on his lap.

Paul runs after him, and throws himself down beside the both you, cuddling close. Once he's done squirming around to get comfortable he's halfway laying on top of David, too, his face pressed so deep into your side he would probably suffocate if he were human.

It reminds David that he wasn't the only one worried about you, as he watches the tension seep from Paul's body now that you're in safety and he can hold you close. Since it's obvious Paul won't be letting go of you for a while, Marko and Dwayne head out to feed first, each pressing a kiss to your forehead before they go.

You're close to falling asleep, despite how early in the night it still is. No wonder after what you just went through.

David brushes his hand over your face, gently traces the bridge of your nose up to your forehead and back down in a soothing motion, watches your eyelids flutter as you fight to stay awake.

David well remembers a night much like this one, many years ago when you had all still been human, kids living on the streets. You'd been attacked then, too, by a man who'd caught you trying to steal from him. You still have the scar on your chin, where his knife grazed you before you got away. Then, like now, you'd clung to David for the rest of the night, hiding in the questionable safety of his arms.

He traces over the scar on your chin, wondering if today's injury will leave one, too. He supposes not. Vampires don't get scars as far as he's aware, but then again there's still so much he doesn't know about all this, even after decades of undead life.

"Sleep, kitten. You've got to rest."

An agreeing hum comes from Paul's direction, but you continue forcing your eyes to stay open.

"I'm not even tired."

He ignores the wornout lie and says, "You're hurt. The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you'll feel better."

You seem to consider this for a moment, absentmindedly playing with Paul's hair and snuggling even closer to David, if that's even possible.

Finally you nod. "Fine. But you have to stay with me the whole time. I'll get nightmares if you make me sleep alone."

David hadn't expected anything else, and agrees. He doesn't mind going hungry in favor of watching over you, even if he knows you've never had a nightmare in your life.

He keeps stroking your face, slowly lulling you to sleep.

Paul, never one to keep still for long, starts fidgeting, and David throws him a glare. "Stay still or go do something else. You're keeping Y/N up."

"Sing us a lullaby then."

Before David can even think to tell Paul to fuck off, your eyes shoot wide open again, and you nod. "Yes, David, sing us a lullaby!"

With a heavy sigh David resigns to his fate. He really needs to learn how to say no to you, but of course that's never going to happen. And, seeing the content little smile on your face, he can't really bring himself to mind.

[staysdelulus]

Stray Kids Lee Know [MDNI!!]

Kinktober Day 4

Summary: smut with(out?) plot

Contents: fem!reader, dom!Lee!Know (hard dom-ish), pinv, oral (m receiving), no protection, and more (slight fluff at the end!)

Word Count: 997

“Baby, stop moving, I swear.”

Lee Know’s sharp voice is a stark contrast to his reddening face, sweat pooling at his temples as he fucks you. Ever since the two of you had opened up about your preferred way of intimacy, he’s been taking it to the very boundary.

Currently, you’re trapped on the bed, laying on your back as your eyes were met with Lee Know’s whose body is pressing down on you firmly, shielding you from anyone who may barge into the room. You’re squirming, whimpering and whining softly as Lee Know continues to pound himself in you, although even you knew he was holding back a bit.

When you move again, he stops, pulling out. Your eyes wide, tears welling in your eyes from the loss of pleasure as you splutter softly, “L-Lee K-Know-”

“I said, stop moving,” he says. “And now to pay the price.”

His grip is gentle, yet firm as he holds your arm, pulling you up and pushing you to kneel on the ground in front of him. All that work at the gym and all the long hours of dancing sure did train his stamina. Your knees were weak, while he was still standing, like this was just a warm up. Which technically, it was.

He grabs a pillow, helping you climb over it so your knees wouldn’t hurt, even if the ground was carpeted, before checking to make sure you were comfortable. As soon as you nod, his eyes darken again, a wave of lust and desire running through them.

“You know what to do,” Lee Know hisses. Without another word, your lips wrap around his cock, whining softly as tears pool in your eyes, gagging softly as his cock hits the back of your throat. “Fuck, Y/n, fuck, you feel so good, don’t you-”

You whimper against his cock, his length twitching as pre-cum continues to leak out, the taste lingering on your tongue as you work your way back and forth, hands gripping him tightly. Feeling him start to tense, and sensing his fast coming orgasm, you tighten your lips around his cock, doing your best to, successfully, keep his cum in your mouth, before dragging your lips off of him. He smirks as he looks down at you, kneeling before him.

“Open wide for me, baby, let me see you.”

Obeying, you open your mouth, showing him the glistening arousal that was in your mouth, a drop of it trailing down to your chin. He watches it, the drop falling down to your neck before he smiles again, tapping your jaw. “Swallow.”

You swallow. And he gently wipes away the drop of his cum, pushing his thumb against your lips as he murmurs softly. “Suck it dry. Then I want your pussy around my cock, alright, baby?”

Nodding, you quickly stand up, allowing him to guide you to the bed. Keeping yourself on all fours, he aligns himself from behind you, stroking his length as it hardens almost impossibly further. He grins, laying over you, chest brushing your back. “Be ready, baby.”

Without a warning, he thrusts into you, a small yelp escaping your lips as you gasp, his cock filling your empty hole easily. Core throbbing, he continues to move his hips. Back and forth, back and forth.

“L-Lee Know,” you whine, crying out as he moves quickly, his hips like a piston.

“That’s it,” he says, grinning cockily. “That’s it. Say my name like that, baby. Scream it.”

He pulls up, holding your hips to steady himself as he fucks you, thrusting in and out like this was the last time. As you whimper, moaning and sobbing, begging for the tightness in your core to release itself, he moves one hand to wrap it around your hair, pulling the thick locks back as he leans down again, murmuring against your ear.

“Come on, you can do it, can’t you? Show me how good of a girl you are. Show me, baby,” he hisses. Desperately wanting to reach your high, you wail softly, his lips meeting yours as you somehow twist your head back to meet them.

He continues pushing in and out of you, continuously thrusting his hips back and forth into you as you start to blabber, a sigh of you reaching your high soon.

“L-Lee Know, c-can’t take- no- please- more-”

At your words, he goes faster, fucking you, your core weak as you fall to your elbows, hips held up by Lee Know’s hands as he buries himself deeper and deeper into you, pushing against that gummy spot that made pleasure so good it was painful, throbbing as you squirm.

“F-Fuck, baby, y-you-”

With a wail, you sob, crying out as your orgasm, the dim lights seeming to flash as you come. Hard. Lee Know follows suit, pumping himself in and out of you as he leaks, the sight of your pussy releasing his juices making him come again.

Pulling out of you, he watches as you collapse onto the bed, your chest heaving as you whine softly, your back clearly sore from the way you closed your eyes with relief.

“Y/n?”

You whimper softly at the sound of his voice, too exhausted to move, the sheets stained with evidence of what had happened. Lee Know gently lays on top of you, rolling off only when you whine softly.

“Baby, did I hurt you?” The worry in his voice is evident, making you open your eyes, lips parted slightly, body sticky from the way he had used you that night.

“No,” you whisper, eyes half closing as you shake your head softly. “‘M just tired.”

“Okay,” he says softly, kissing your nose. “I love you, baby. Go to sleep, I’ll clean us up and change the seats. You just relax, hm?”

Nodding, you fall asleep, snuggling closer to him as you do. “I love you, Lee Know.”

He just hums, smiling to himself as he watches you tenderly.

[willsimpforanyone]

HIHIHI!!! I'M SOSO HAPPY YOURE BACK :3 May I request a Leo x reader smut where he gets home from work frustrated n eats the reader out 'til they're overstimulated? THIS IS SO WEIRD IM SORRY 😣ANYWAY I LOVE YOU, ITS OKAY IF YOU DONT DO THIS ASK, M JUST REALLY HAPPY YOU'RE BACK !!!!! (can I be 💀anon, if that's open? :3)

of course you can be skull anon (i'm on my laptop so i can't use emojis lol) also sweetheart this is definitely not weird this is an excellent request lmao lets gooooo

minors dni, includes leo being a little mean and eating the reader out until they cry, one singular spank, reader has a pussy but everything else is gender neutral and of course, all characters are over 18

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

If I think back, really I could have predicted this from the moment I woke up.

Leo was gone by the time I opened my eyes, a note on the bedside table alongside a flower folded from a paperclip. The note was a mess of errors, his dyslexia playing up is always a sign of stress.

The second sign would be the wildly out-of-character short text responses I recieved, queries about his day being met with monosyllabic answers. There was nothing I could do, so I'd sat down at my laptop to work from home for the day, a little worried about him but figuring he was a big boy, he'd survive a hard day.

The third and most obvious sign that today did not go well was the jangling of the keys in the lock, followed by rapid-fire Spanish swearing. I'd laughed, saving my work and abandoning my laptop on my desk to go save Leo from the door or vice versa, whatever the case may have been.

Bright smile on my face, I'd opened the door and hardly gotten the first syllable of 'what did the door do to you?' out my mouth before I was promptly cut off by his lips on mine. Nothing gentle, nothing patient, just frustration and irritation and a need for something, anything, to go right.

Which led to my current position. My thighs shake around his head as I hold myself over his face, his fingers digging in firmly to my flesh as he pulls me back down. "One more."

A pathetic, almost-sob lurches from my throat as his tongue laps harshly at my pussy. My fingers clench at the headboard, holding on for dear life as Leo sucks and licks and tongue-fucks me into nearing my third orgasm of the evening.

"I c-can't," I wail, gasping and moaning as he laughs darkly against my pussy. He lets go of my thigh only briefly to land a firm smack on my ass.

"You can, and you will," he growls, voice low and leaving no room for questioning his command. His lips close around my clit and suck, looking up at me through half-lidded, dark, fierce eyes as I choke on a scream. Giving up on the headboard, I fist my hands in Leo's curly hair, whole body trembling as I come against his mouth for the third time. He laps it up greedily, burying his tongue as deep as he can to coax every drop of my release from me.

My body almost gives up on me, tipping to the side as my jelly legs fail to continue to hold me up. Still riding high and almost drunk on pleasure, I hardly notice when Leo catches me smoothly, flipping us around so he's above me. His lower face shines, swollen, slick lips parted as he pants with a filthy grin.

"You think you've got another one in you?"

He doesn't give me a chance to respond, promptly wriggling down the bed to stuff his face back between my legs, moaning against my oversensitive pussy as he gets another taste. My limp, exhausted body responds to his encouragement, every nerve on fire as he swirls his tongue around my folds.

"T-Too much," I whimper, useless hands half-heartedly fisting the sheets at my sides. "Can't- Leo, fuck, please, gonna fuckin' break me-"

"One more," he whispers against me, looking up from between my thighs and reaching his hands to lace his fingers with mine. "Give me one more, babe, then we're done, I promise."

I whine in protest on behalf of my tired body, but I nod. Leo grins and dives back down, nose nudging my swollen clit as he presses softer, languid open-mouthed kisses against my cunt. It's so much, pleasure feeling like a wrecking ball as my heart pounds against my ribs, and tears spring hot to my eyes.

It takes barely a few minutes for Leo to draw one last orgasm from me, my whole being exhausted and milked dry as I grind shakily against his tongue. His fingers squeeze mine tightly, grounding and reassuring as he drinks down my release, sighing happily as he makes me come for the fourth time.

With one final kiss, soft and sweet, between my legs, Leo crawls up the bed to press his lips to my forehead. "Thank you, oh, you did so good for me, I'm so proud of you, honey..."

I cling to him weakly, sniffling slightly as my body quivers underneath him, but a small smile tugs at my lips as he litters kisses all over my face. His praise is constant, his earlier frustration vanished as he wraps me up in his arms and gently wipes the tears from my cheeks.

"Shh, I know, it was a lot, huh?" he coos, nuzzling his nose into my cheek. "Thank you so much, I needed that, needed to feel my baby falling apart for me... let's get you cleaned up, hm?"

In a little bit, I'll get him to talk; ask him how his day was, why he was so upset earlier. For now, I'm dazed and exhausted but happy, more than content to stay cuddled up in Leo's arms, whispered promises of a homecooked meal settling warm in my chest.

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

a bit of a shorter one but i very much hope you enjoyed!

[reccyls]

Beyond the Merging of Then and Now (Azel story)

Azel's 4th anniversary story sale, where child Azel is brought into the future to meet Emma and current Azel.

---

As I made my way towards Prince Azel's sanctuary as usual, I came across a small figure.

Emma: This child was all alone in the middle of the desert. Emma: His hair and eye color are exactly like yours, so is he your secret son?

Azel: Not that I can recall. Azel: And don't just bring any random child from who knows where to my sanctuary. Azel: Send him away.

Emma: Don't you have any heart at all!?

Azel: A god has no such thing.

???: God...

Emma: ...That's right. This man here is a god.

(He finally said something.) (He seems to be really anxious around strangers. On the way here, he barely spoke at all. And...) (He's been gripping at the hem of his clothes almost like he's scared of something. And his expression is so stiff.)

Emma: If there's anything troubling you, this man can help you.

Azel: No I won't.

???: O holy god...

Azel: Did you not hear what I just said?

???: Please help me...

Azel: And what would you offer in return? I care not for destitute believers.

???: I... I...

(!?)

Emma: H-hey, don't cry! Were you scared of this mister? Emma: I know he has a bad personality, but he's not a bad person.

Azel: How disrespectful. Your ability to keep adding onto your debt remains unchanged.

Emma: Prince Azel, please don't bully a child, especially not one this young.

Azel: I would have been merciful had he been just an ordinary child. Azel: But this boy is no "ordinary child". Azel: Just looking at him is enough to make me sick. If you won't throw him out, I will.

Emma: No, no, no, absolutely not!

???: ...if even god has forsaken me... then what should I do...?

Emma: It'll be okay! He's been- um, this was all a divine joke!

Azel: .......A what.

Emma: Anyway! Could you tell me your name? Emma: I've been wondering what I should call you.

???: ........

(Uh oh... He doesn't seem to want to talk to me.)

Azel: Call him whatever you want. How does 'Brat' sound?

Emma: Well then, I'll just borrow part of your name. We'll call him El.

Azel: What kind of hideous naming system is that? No.

Emma: El, won't you tell me what's bothering you?

El: ........

Emma: Did you get lost? If you can't find your parents, we'll look for them together.

El: ........

(Hmm, still nothing. He's just been crying silently, but I feel like there's something he wants to say.) (But he doesn't sob and wail like a regular kid. It's like he's still trying to hold everything back...) (Like his heart is a bowl full of water with a little crack in it, and his tears are slowly leaking out.) (It really hurts to see.)

Azel: Anyway, I shall be leaving now. I leave things here to you.

Emma: No you aren't!

Azel: Ugh... Let go of me.

Emma: Between the two of us, you're the only one that El will talk to. Emma: He doesn't trust me, so please stick around for his sake.

Azel: I don't care.

Emma: ........

Azel: What?

Emma: ........

Azel: Don't just look down and stand there silently.

Emma: ........

Azel: What, are you crying?

Emma: ........

Azel: No, a woman as impudent as you wouldn't-

Emma: ........

Azel: There's no way.

Emma: ........ Emma: ........ *sniffle*

Azel: Agh, damn it, fine. Fine! What do you want me to do? Just tell me.

Emma: Thank you for your kindness, Prince Azel! You aren't just using the title of god for show after all! Emma: --ow, ow, ow, don' pull my cheeks!

Azel: This is your punishment for blasphemy.

El: .....

Azel: You're crying too much, brat. Stop.

El: Because... because I'm still--- I'm not...

Azel: Watch what you say. Don't say anything unnecessary.

El: .......

Azel: At any rate. Brat. It appears as though this woman will be your playmate.

El: ...I can't play.

Azel: God himself speaks before you, and you dare to defy me?

El: ...It's really okay?

Emma: You've never played any games before, El?

El: Never.

(Whatever circumstances El is in must be even worse than I thought.)

Azel: Well then, I've done my part, so now--

Emma: Let's all play together!

Azel: Are you trying to give me an ulcer?

Emma: Oh, I'm sure won't be that bad, come on!

Azel: ...You are definitely the worse person compared to me.

Emma: I didn't hear that! Now come on, let's all play hide and seek!

scene change - now at an oasis

El: Hmmm.... he's not here.

Emma: Who would have thought that Prince Azel was so good at hide and seek...

(It is kind of petty how he's hidden himself away.)

El: Of course we can't find him. He's god, so he has to be good at everything.

Emma: ...You think so?

El: Yes.

Emma: Then it must be really tough, being god.

El: ...Yes. It's tough. El: Um, no, wait. It's not tough at all. El: That's just how a god is.

Emma: ...

El: ...What's wrong?

Emma: It's nothing. I just thought that you looked more relaxed, that's all.

(He was pretty closed off at first, but I think El's warmed up to me while we were searching for Prince Azel.) (Playing like this, he seems just like a normal child.)

El: ...I'm sorry.

Emma: What are you apologizing for?

El: I'm not supposed to let anything show on my face. El: People change how they act if I change my expression. El: If I don't keep things the same, it makes people start unnecessary conflicts. El: Actually... I shouldn't have cried before. I'm not good enough yet.

(So that's why he was so closed-off.) (...I don't know El's full circumstances, but that's probably what the adults around him told him.)

Emma: El, right now, there's nobody here aside from you and me, right? Emma: I don't know who told you that, but here, it doesn't matter. Emma: I promise I'll keep it a secret, so it's okay to let your emotions show, all right?

El: ...... El: ....Miss... What do you think about me?

Emma: Hmmm... I suppose I think you're a young boy who has a lot of difficult things to worry about.

El: A boy... El: ....... El: ...Okay. Then, just for now is okay... El: I'll stop holding back... because for now, I'm just a boy.

(He smiled! What a little angel!)

Emma: Great! So let's play a lot more, okay?

El: Okay. I'll wake up from this dream eventually, but until then, I want to play a lot.

Emma: Dream?

El: My grown up self who became a real god is here, so this must be a dream.

Emma: ...Your grown up self?

El: Huh...? El: Oh, miss, you didn't realize? El: My name is--

Azel: It's El, is it not? Though I think "Brat" suits you better. "Stupid Brat" even more.

El: Mmph!?

Emma: Wha- Prince Azel!? Where did you come from-- wait before that, stop covering El's mouth!

Azel: I don't know. Keeping his mouth shut seems like the better-- ack!

(El bit him!)

El: ...Miss.

Emma: Leave it to me! Just say the word and I'll give Prince Azel a good slap--

El: No, it's not that. We found god.

Emma: ...Oh, that's true.

(I forgot we were in the middle of hide and seek.)

El: I knew you didn't want to let her know, but...

Azel: ...

El: The bait really worked. Even though you're an actual god.

Azel: ...All right. Time to do what I should have done from the start. I'm tossing you out to the far end of the desert.

Emma: Wait! You're not really going to take him away!?

Prince Azel picked up the struggling El under one arm and began walking. Perhaps it was due to how I desperately chased after the god who really did began walking out into the dunes, But the burning pain in my chest lingered for a long while after that.

[storm-angel989]

How would Valentino react to his baby having colic? (when a baby cries for no apparent reason)

Hi Friend,

Please see the below! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. As you may have noticed, I haven't published any content in a bit- this is the first one I'm happy with how it came out!

Enjoy!

<3 Mandy

The sound of a baby crying used to piss him off.

The screeching, shrieking, screaming bawl of an insolent child instilled nothing in him but rage. In the past, he wanted nothing more than to eliminate the sound by any means possible, and although children were barred in his studio, he made it a point to ensure they were kept as far away from him as possible in all areas of his life. Hell, if someone had told the younger version of himself that someday he would run towards his own crying child and not away from it, he would have probably shot them without hesitation. 

As Valentino lounged back in his directors chair, the scream of his number one rule being shattered sent him to his feet, his wings springing  forth as he launched himself towards the sound. For the first time in front of people, the sudden movement was for protection, not anger. 

“Val, I need a break,” his wife’s voice, quaking with tears, met his monstrous form. “I can’t, I can’t get her to settle.” 

“Back upstairs,” his voice answered, sharp as a knife. “You know…”

“Val, I’m begging you.”

The continuous crying, and the tone of his wife's voice told him something was very, very wrong. Ignoring the work behind him, he shielded her and the screaming child as he guided her to the elevator. His wings blocking the view, he took the upset child from his wife and settled her against him. Behind him, the door closed and despite the constant noise, his voice softened.

“Bebita, what’s wrong?” He asked as he tried to comfort his child. To his surprise, the wailing continued. Even more alarming, his wife began to sob. 

“I…don’t….know! She won’t stop crying. I tried everything, I can’t…she won’t…why do I feel like this?” 

With his free arm, he pulled his wife to his side and gently cradled her head to his shoulders. He pressed his lips to the top of her head as he did his best to soothe both her and the baby. A younger Valentino would have smacked any woman who dared to cry in front of him. After all, he wasn’t an overlord known for mercy. But as he appraised his wife’s current  appearance, the very thought of hurting her made him sick to his stomach. Dark circles under her eyes, pajamas that clearly needed to be changed, and hair that looked like it needed to be washed- or at the very least, brushed. But moreso, she seemed beyond exhausted. Sad maybe? Overwhelmed? Sick? He couldn’t tell.  How long had she been alone with a crying baby?

“Alright, honey, we’ll figure it out,” Valentino said finally. “I’ll call the doctor and…”

“You have to work, I shouldn’t have bothered you,” she sobbed through the continued cries. “I tried to call Vox and Velvette, and I just…she’s colicky, and I can’t…I don’t…”

“Hey, hey. No. Always come to us,” he replied quickly. “You’re not in this alone. Come on. You need sleep.” 

The elevator door opened and he carefully guided his wife into the penthouse and nudged her towards the bedroom. 

“Go. I’ve got the baby,” he said gently. “You need to go rest, and…”

“No! She won’t stop crying, she won’t take a bottle, her diaper is dry, I’ve tried everything. You can’t just lay her down! Something is wrong and I, I can’t figure it out,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry! Nothing is working, Val!” Her expression crumbled as she sobbed harder. “I’m a terrible mother. I suck.”  

Unease settled over Valentino. To see his wife, a known angel slayer, merciless ruler of hell, crumble to bits sent alarm bell ringing. He stepped into the nursery and laid the still screaming baby down in the crib before walking out to where she stood, shaking. Wordlessly, he guided her to their bedroom and kissed her forehead. 

“You are not a sucky mother,” he told her firmly. “I want you to lay down and sleep. In silence. You’ll feel better once you’ve rested, I promise. I’ll take care of the baby. You take care of yourself.” 

“I only have one job right now, and I can’t even do that right,” she sobbed. “She’s still…”

Valentino didn’t like to do it. And he knew he would pay for it in spades later. But he bent down and as he pressed his lips to hers, he allowed just the smallest drop of his red liquid slip into her mouth, just enough to make her sleep. He watched as her entire body instantly fell against the bed. Gingerly, he settled her under the covers before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. 

Though distracted momentarily, the sound of the baby crying brought him back to attention. Quickly, he walked back to the former guest bed turned nursery and lifted his daughter from her crib. 

“Shush, mi bebita princessa,” he said softly as he rocked the still crying baby. “It’s okay, Papi is here. Shush.” 

The cries continued. Valentino glanced at the clock. It had been less than a half hour since his wife had showed up at the studio and already the noise was giving him a headache. He settled down in the rocking chair and with one arm supporting her, the other quickly called the pediatrician. 

One long list of suggestions later, with the promise of a house visit if none of them worked, Valentino stood up and carried the baby towards the bathroom. 

“Does your tummy hurt?” He asked aloud softly. “Shuddh. Daddy will try to make it better. Let’s try a warm bath, okay?” 

With one hand holding her securely, the other turned on the faucet, filling the infant bath tub that currently occupied one side of the vanity. As he waited for it to fill up, he laid his daughter on the changing table and tugged off her diaper and onesie. 

“I know sweetheart,” he said softly as she continued to cry. “Let’s see if this helps.” 

As soon as the water was comfortably warm, he added a few drops of lavender oil and settled her in the tub. Gentle as he could, he carefully ran a soft washcloth over her body, cooing to her as he did. To his relief, she seemed to settle ever so slightly. 

“Did the warm water help?” He asked as he lifted her from the tub and wrapped her in a towel. “Papi will put you in some clean clothes and rub your tummy and if that doesn’t work, we’re going to try a baba again, okay?” 

Her only response was to continue to cry. Unbothered, he laid her back down and dressed her in a diaper. He hesitated slightly as he laid his hand on her tummy. The doctor had suggested a gentle massage, but the fear of hurting her- and causing more discomfort- flitted through his mind. Carefully, as gently as he could, he pressed down and gently rubbed in a clockwise direction, just as the doctor had suggested.

“Does that feel better?” he asked softly. “Does it help your tummy?”

Valentino watched her facial expression change. A green stain on the previously white changing pad slowly crept out from under her and suddenly, her cries stopped. All of his experience on the club scene had made him immune to the worst of scents, and his daughter was no exception. 

“Still better than drunk adults,” Valentino told her as he lifted her. “You’re going to need another bath though.”

To his relief, she giggled. He quickly discarded the now soiled diaper and sat her up, wiping her down with her damp towel as quickly as he could. 

“The rest will come off in the bath,” he told her. “You’re yucky. But I love you.” 

She babbled and he carefully laid her in the still warm water. A quick wipe down with a washcloth and a rinse in the open sink later, he wrapped her in a fresh towel and carried her out of the bathroom. 

“You’re lucky your Aunt Velvette designed this room,” he told her as he laid her on the changing table closest to the crib. “She thought of everything. I don’t know any other baby in the world that has not one, not two, not even three- but four whole changing tables. And two cribs. You know, just in case one gets yucky.” He unwrapped her and dressed her in a fresh diaper and onesie. “Babies are yucky. Yes they are. Doesn’t mean I love you any less, but you’re yucky.” 

Once she was dressed, he lifted her up and carried her out to the kitchen. With one arm supporting her, he made a bottle and pressed it to her lips. To his relief, she latched on quickly. He carried her across the room and sank onto the couch as he fed her, relishing in the silence. 

“She isn’t crying,” came his wife’s quivering voice. “How did you get it to stop?”

Valentino looked up to see his wife standing next to the couch, her eyes filled with tears. To his dismay, it didn’t look like she had done more than get an hour or so of sleep. 

“She had a major blowout,” he replied calmly. “A warm bath and I rubbed her belly. That’s all. Come here, bebita. Let me hold both my girls.” 

“Son of a bitch,” she whispered as she sank down next to him. “Val, I tried that, I couldn’t…”

“It was nothing I did,” he said quickly. “Just the right time. You did everything right.”

“Apparently not,” she whispered. 

Valentino set the empty bottle to the side and shifted his daughter upright. He snagged a clean cloth from the table and laid her head on his shoulder as he patted her back firmly. 

“She’ll probably sleep after this,” Valentino said quietly. “Why don’t you go take a shower? Spend some time taking care of yourself? You’ll feel better, mi amore.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re a good mom. And being a good mom is a full time job, and some. I’m glad you came to find me today. You don’t have to do this alone, my love.” 

“But that's all I do right now, I shouldn’t have to bother you,” she whispered back. “I…Uncle Lucifer won’t let me work, because…”

“Because having a baby is a full time job. And recovering from giving birth is another full time job,” he replied firmly. “And you can’t go through days like today alone, without a break. You deserve to shower, and eat, and drink and do all the things the rest of us do while working. You do not have to sacrifice yourself and your sanity to take care of an infant.” He leaned over and kissed her again. “Now, please mi amore- take the next few hours to do all the things you’ve been neglecting to do.”

“Val, I…” 

“Not up for discussion,” he told her firmly. “Go.” 

To his relief, she stood up and vanished into their bedroom. As soon as he was good and sure his daughter was ready, he laid her down in her crib.

“Now, Uncle Vox has his eyes on you,” he told her as he checked the position of the cameras. “So be good. But cry if you need anything.”

She babbled in response, but stayed quiet as he turned and walked away, his eyes on the video footage of her on his phone. To his relief, she fell asleep almost instantly. 

Several hours later, his wife lay snuggled up against him in their bed. Time spent soaking in a hot bath, clean pjs, her favorite dinner and lots of rest, his wife looked more like herself.

“I married the best man,” she told him as she snuggled into his chest. “Thanks, Val.”

He looked down at her. “You don’t get to thank me for being a father. She’s half mine you know.”

She laughed and snuggled into his neck. “Yeah, but…”

“No buts,” he replied lightly. “You’re mom, I’m dad. And you have Auntie Velvette and Uncle Vox to lean on. Don’t let yourself get to that point again mi amore, promise?”

“I promise.”

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

As someone who never played these games, I don't know the details of the whole winter/David thing besides a few hints I caught online and I am waiting to find out with the episode, but, no matter what happens and how it happens in the game, I really hope we do not only see this hug play out in the show but also the aftermath of it.

I need to see Joel take Ellie to safety - if it's that basement they are currently in or some other place, doesn't matter, just that they are alone and safe. I need to see him stepping back into the role of the caretaker after all the time Ellie spent taking care of him, I want to see him find his footing again, do something that will ground him and help him ease the nerves, tension and fear.

Let him sit her down and start washing the blood off her face and hands, trying to be as soft and gentle and comforting as possible, seeing how distraught she is, but also visibly shaking with that barely contained, feral, protective anger - not at Ellie but at himself, at the people who hurt his little girl like that, at this fucked up universe for letting this all happen.

But most of all, let Ellie finally have a moment where she can just... let it go. Let the dam break. Let her cry and sob and scream, smash things if she needs to, let her cling to Joel's chest and just wail.

About how scared she was all the time, day and night, thinking she's going to lose him. About how hard it was, keeping herself and him alive. How tired she is.

And let Joel hold her close, rock her in his arms and tell her it's alright now, he's here, the worst is over. And even when she shakes her head, still in that caretaker/survival mode, going on about how no, I can't fucking rest, I need to check your wound, see if the stitches still hold after today, maybe I need to change the bandages, fuck where are the bandages? I need to-

He holds her down, makes her look him in the eyes and tells her that it's okay. She doesn't need to worry about it anymore. She did good, she can rest now. He's not going anywhere.

[marvelmymarvel]

Heir

Silva x Reader

Synopsis: His wife was crazy, hell, you'd be crazy too if you knew your husband was sleeping around... But it wasn't your fault he loved you and not her.

Her shrill cry hit your ears, making you wince from your spot next to Silva. He currently had you wrapped up under his arm, hand absentmindedly caressing the bare skin of your arm. "Kikyo" he warned, eyes darkening a bit as she continue to wail about how evil he was for having a mistress.

This wasn't new knowledge, she had known about it for some time now. This was just her weekly temper tantrum. "I just don't understand how you could do this to me. The woman who gave you your CHILDREN"

Silva's lip curled into a snarl, there was that jab again... The classic 'mother of your children' saying was always the stab she took in the hopes that it would wake him up, but it only ever angered him. Your eyebrows crinkled in distress as you felt the bloodlust oozing from the man who was now gripping you tightly against him. You couldn't run and hide from his anger if you tried. You were just thankful it wasn't directed at you.

"Kikyo."

The woman stopped wailing as the venomous tone and bloodlust hit her finally. You could see her hands shaking, and you felt bad. Not bad enough to stop the relationship you had with the head of the Zoldyck family, but enough to put your hand on his thigh, hoping it would calm him even a little.

And it seemed to work.

He let out a deep exhale, free hand coming up to rub at his eyes. If he could leave her he would, he would much rather be married to you than to her, but he hadn't met you when he needed to settle down some 26 years ago. "I've been nothing but loving towards you, what does she have that I don't?"

You lightly gasped at the question, eyes flicking from Kikyo to Silva in shock. He sat there in silence, staring into her soul as if trying to banish her from the earth altogether. "She was the one who gave me Killua" your eyes widened at his statement. Many things were well-known and talked about, but this was not one of them.

You cringed as Kikyo's sniffles hit your ears. Having Killua with Silva was not something you were proud of, the guilt ate you up to the point where you gave him up to Kikyo, allowing her to care for him as if she carried and birthed him herself. It seemed to have appeased her, and she went on to have two more children with Silva after. But you knew the reason for that was just her trying to prove that she too could give Silva what you did.

An heir.

It was a low blow though, and it made all of the guilt rush through you like a violent hurricane. "Silva..." you whispered out, tone teetering on guilt and warning. He paid no mind to you though. Standing from his spot, he walked towards a sobbing Kikyo. His hands rose to cup her cheeks and while you'd normally feel jealous, all you felt was shame.

You should have never slept with him 12 years ago. Should have never given in to his blue eyes and blonde hair, but you did and now you were here. Stuck in the middle of the family drama that you yourself caused.

He leaned down to be eye level with her, a passerby would have found it sweet, but you knew better. "You mean nothing to me. The children you've given mean nothing to me. I don't know what else I need to do to get you to see that"

That was a lie, the children part at least was. He cared deeply for all of his children, Killua was just special to him. You knew that the hurtful words were only spewed to bite back at her stab but you wished he would have let it go. "Silva" you called out as you shakily stood from the pillow.

Kikyo was now sobbing so hard that she was choking, the sound didn't do anything to Silva, but it was breaking your heart. "Silva leave her alone..." you whispered out as your fingers ghosted his arm before gripping the flesh to pull him away from her. He let you move him away from her, something Kikyo has never been able to do.

The sight only made her sob harder. How could you, of all people, make the man she loved do anything you asked of him? She gave him everything and loved him through everything. But you? You did nothing and yet can control everything about him. Before he goes on jobs, he asks you about your opinion on the danger of the task at hand. When he leaves the house, he asks you if you'd like to join him. When it's time for bed, he'll wait for you because he can't seem to sleep without you.

Her eyes snapped to yours as you looked back at her over your shoulder. "Can you please go get Gotoh" you called out to the butler by the door. The butler left without another word, rushing down the hall to get the head butler who helped Kikyo remain calm. Silva sat back down with a huff, legs crossing as he leaned back in annoyance. You turned back fully to Kikyo, sadness and regret written all over your face.

"I'm sorry Kikyo" you stated firmly, but anyone who knew you could hear the nervous waver in your voice. Despite being annoying, Kikyo was far from weak. She could kill you in two seconds if she really wanted to.

And she really wanted to right now.

But you didn't care anymore. Walking towards her slowly, you waited for her to break down again. But she was silent. You stopped just feet from her, lips pursing as you took in just how tense the air was. Silva called your name out in warning as if he knew deep down that she would attack you while he wasn't by your side.

But maybe you deserved it.

"I'm sorry for everything" your words caused her to inhale sharply, hands forming into fists as she shook in her place. You had no right to apologize. The only way to make this right was for you to leave. But Silva would never let you leave. So there was only one other way to make this right.

You had to die.

Silva felt the shift in the air quicker than you did. Kikyo's hand shot towards your chest, fingers shaped into a sharp form. Your breath hitched but you knew there was no escaping it. You should have been faster...

But Silva was fast enough.

His hand stopped hers right as the fingernails pierced the skin of your chest. She could feel the way your heart was beating frantically under her fingertips. Oh, how she wanted to feel it pound in her hand as she watched the life drain from your eyes. But, with the way Silva was gripping her did she realize she had made a grave mistake.

Silva pushed you behind him as he ripped Kikyo up to him angrily "Lay a hand on her again and I will feed you to the dogs" the words hit your ears, and you would have scolded him for uttering them, but you couldn't think straight - not with all the adrenaline in your veins and the tension in the air.

Kikyo sputtered out apologies but it only angered the silver haired man more.

It all went silent though when the door opened. "Madame. I was called to retrieve you" Gotohs voice broke the tension and you sighed in relief. Silva let her go, allowing her to run to Gotoh in fear. Gotoh didn't say anything, only grabbed her by the shoulder and moved her out of the room.

The sound of the door closing echoed in the room and mixed with your heavy breathing. Silva was in front of you before you could blink, hand reaching for your shirt where blood was pooling. "I'll be okay" you croaked out but he ripped the shirt open regardless, eyes narrowing at the cuts Kikyo marred you with.

"She will be dealt with accordingly" he whispered as he applied pressure to one of the heavier bleeding wounds. You didn't say anything, knowing that not even you could stop what would happen to her. He loved you a lot, maybe even too much. But you couldn't deny that you loved him as well. You reached up to pull his hand away, smiling softly at the confused look on his face.

Dropping his hand, you stepped forward before wrapping your arms around his torso, hiding your face in his chest as you gave into the part of you that needed him close. You didn't care if you were hurt. You didn't care that Kikyo would try to kill you every chance she got. None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was him. And as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head -

You knew he felt the same.