#damn you anon you got me fixated on him

[whimsyvixen]

An emotionally damaged man that could crush my head into a pulp?

Instant heart eyes, baby (⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠)

[ozzgin]

I'm the anon who asked if your requests are open and i got busy assignments + presentations that i almost forgot about the request but now i remembered and it's based on my dream i saw that night..

How about a vampire who lost his relic (presumably a ring) and reader happens find it and tries it on, now the vampire is all panicking because guess what? That was a betrothal relic and it has binded the vampire's soul with the one of reader. They can't pull it out/take it of.. oh well, now they are stuck and obviously the vampire hates the idea of being stuck with a pesky human but hey they are kinda stupid..? How tf they tripped on thin air? Or how they are still alive even after being food poisoned 5 times a month? Vampire is now babysitter for his human *sighs * what has he gotten himself in..

(Please add yandere elements later on, my brain stoopid but i want a hot Victorian era vampire being obsessed with me ^^ muah!)

(I'm sorry this is so lengthy TT)

Yandere! Vampire x Reader

Featuring a ridiculously lucky Reader who constantly manages to escape a Vampire's assassination attempts. Did someone order a supernatural edition of enemies to lovers?

Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, romcom

[Monster masterlist] [Original works masterlist]

"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" your friends gasp in unison, eyes fixated on the fallen ceramic pot that scarcely missed you, now laying shattered at your feet. You laugh reassuringly and wave your hand in dismissal. "It's the fifth time it happens today. Maybe there's a storm coming?"

From within the shadows, menacing eyes glowing red follow your movements. "Damn it!" The mysterious man curses under his breath. He stares enviously at the bulky ring on your finger. The ring bearing his Family signet, where part of his very soul resides. It has stayed with him for centuries, and somehow, to his utmost shame, he lost it. By the time he rushed back to retrieve it, you were carelessly sliding it down your finger. He wanted to strangle the life out of you right then and there, but he felt it: the immediate surge of contractual power, dominating his will and holding him back from breaking your bones. "It's a little tacky, isn't it?" your friend remarked. You nodded in agreement and tried to remove it, but the metal band tightened around your skin, painfully constricting your digit. It was stuck. It was too late.

Now he has to rely on cheap trickeries like this one. Sure, he may not be able to directly plunge his fangs into your neck, but the bonding curse does not shield you from "accidents", you see. It would be a real shame if that flower pot was to land straight into your head, ending you instantly and thus breaking the connection with him. Except you simply refuse to die. A mystery, a paradox, one that enrages him to no end. It's almost as if the ring is bringing you fortune at the cost of his misery.

"Have you had any luck removing that ugly thing?" the person standing next to you mentions. The vampire lord grits his teeth at the blasphemous words. This is what's become of him: a deceitful buffoon, having to sit and listen to his inheritance being mocked relentlessly. He holds back the urge of shouting that thousands have bled to death in order to forge that magnificence. "Not at all", you respond idly. "I tried taking it to a jeweler, and she said she could try to cut it, but she ended up having a heart attack right in the middle of it. She didn't even look that old, maybe it runs in her family?"

Unbelievable. The thought of reclaiming his relic haunts every second of his day, to the point he's become your shadow. Stalking your every move, your every breath, observing his prey and waiting for an opportunity to strike. He can already picture that pathetic face of yours, twisting in pain, begging for-...huh. Well, look at that, you're reading one of his favorite books. Perhaps you do have a little taste, after all. It won't save you from your terrible fate, but he might skip the prolonged torture.

There's plenty of quotes out there about knowing your enemy in order to guarantee your victory, though one might wonder where the limit of such knowledge resides. Or what counts as useful to begin with. The vampire lord is presently wondering about this very aspect, as he mouths your coffee order from a distance. Less sugar, huh? You did mention losing your sweet tooth. He shakes his head indignantly. Absolutely not! The throb of his heart is fueled by raw hatred and nothing else. One of days he will savour your demise.

Your ridiculous luck might just end today. You've taken a shortcut on your way back home, and didn't expect a shady, burly man to block your exit. A perverted grin stains his face as he approaches you, twiddling with his pocket knife. "Alone at this hour?" You frown and try to find a way out, but the man suddenly begins to heave and convulse before your eyes, grasping at his chest as the skin shrivels and dries. He collapses at your feet, body wilted as if it's been emptied of its vitality. The Vampire Lord clicks his tongue.

To think he'd rush to rescue his sworn enemy, a pitiful mortal like you. He didn't even get the chance to consider the aftermath. You stare at the stranger, confused but observant. Pale skin, crimson eyes, unnaturally sharp canines...and the fact he just drained a living being into a bloodless corpse: everything hints to one possibility. "Are you by any chance a vampire?" you find yourself mumbling. "You must've graduated from Harvard with those deduction skills", he responds sarcastically.

Everything else unfolds in a haze. Wasn't he planning to kill you and retrieve his ring? When the hell did he offer to walk you home to avoid more creeps? Why is he twirling his hair sheepishly whenever you praise his demonic powers? Oh, but it gets worse: why did he suddenly feel the urge to kiss you before returning to his cursed lair? Why did he accept your invitation to spend the night at your place instead? One moment ago, he was doing his best to curse you off this Earth. Now he's tugging stray strands of hair away from your blushing, whining face, asking you if it hurts. Damned human.

"How did you know I like this? Have you been stalking me?" you joke, nudging your undead boyfriend and setting the gift aside. "More or less", he confesses with a yawn. He recalls all that time spent dutifully spying on your oblivious self. "You know, a human like you shouldn't be able to dodge death like that." He turns to you and scans your features. Then, abruptly embarrassed, he ruffles your hair to block you from noticing his blush. "I suppose my failure was the better outcome. It's not too bad, having you around."

[ovaryacted]

please hear me out for this one. subby!re2!leon who refuses to pull away from eating you out like his life depends on it because you just taste too good!

like you've gotten him sooooo deep into subspace you seriously expect him to stop now? you may have just squirted but he's already came 3 times in his briefs and is whining and begging for one more! and comeon. you just gotta let him because you asked for this and all he wants to do is make you feel good 🙁😵‍💫

MDNI/18+. NSFW.

Anon…I’m hearing you out babe. Matter of fact, I’m gonna give you the megaphone so you can scream this across the rooftops. Trust me, I’m part of the pathetic Leon munch brigade and I believe he would eat pussy because he can and because he wants to please you. Whatever makes you feel good, he provides because it makes him feel good knowing he’s the reason why you’re a damn mess.

One of your favorite pastimes involves breaking Leon down into that delicious subspace where he’s not thinking and acting based on instinct. You’d probably order him to get situated between your legs, and before you could tell him, he’s already down on his knees and taking your panties off happily. Depending on your mood and tone of voice, either you’re taking control, or he’s doing it on his own as a way to make you relax.

His nose would be rubbing against you, licking up the length of your body and moaning as your taste filled his mouth. Leon has an oral fixation of his own, and being able to have his tongue on you curbs it for him. You were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, you reminded him of ripe peaches or a sip of sweet tea on a summer day, things that brought him comfort and made him content. With his eyes closed, he holds one of your legs up to give him easier access to your cunt, sucking diligently in the way you liked, the way you taught him.

Your scent alone would be enough to make him slip into subspace, an added yank of his hair would grant you a whimper from him. The only thing on his mind would be to make you fall over the edge more times than you can count, to make sure he got every orgasm he could get from you.

The first time you cum from his mouth, it’s relatively easy, not needing much except flicks of your clit. Your second orgasm takes a bit longer than your first, but it’s stronger and prolonged when Leon uses his fingers to please you. He’s done this so often that he knows exactly what to do, knows when to add another finger and when to curve them into that spot tucked nicely at the roof of your entrance. The way you flex around his fingers and tighten around him is enough to make him cum untouched in his briefs, making a mess and staining the cotton material as he pathetically sought friction with the floor.

He gets more sloppy with his ministrations, sucking at your clit more harshly and finger fucking you until you give him exactly what he’s looking for. Your thighs shake from where they sat on his broad shoulders, crying out as you squirted right in his mouth. Leon is greedy in seeking out your arousal, replacing his fingers with his tongue and humming as he slurped up every drop you gave him.

Leon was lightheaded now, his cock aching as it twitched again in his briefs, threatening to cum another time until you reluctantly pulled his head away from you. He whines, actually whines in defiance and you almost think he’ll throw a tantrum at the mere thought of not being able to have your pussy for the rest of the night. You took in his appearance, plush pink lips wet and swollen from what he’d been doing for the past 30 minutes, his chin and jaw were coated in your slick. What you loved most about these moments was how his eyes were completely glossed over, he wasn’t entirely present anymore, which was what you wanted from the beginning.

“Baby you gotta give me a break”, you said to him exasperatingly, chuckling at the way Leon licked his lips, leaving kisses along your mound absentmindedly.

“Just one more, please. Let me give you one more…”, he looked like he was about to cry if he didn’t give you another orgasm, strong fingers digging into your thighs and pouting at you.

You couldn’t stop him, you didn’t want to, even if you knew one more was never just one more with Leon. So you leaned back and let him suck away at you again and again until your whole body went numb. Even if you were tired, he would offer to fuck you properly, to leave you satisfied and full of him. He’s been good after all, making you feel like you were on cloud nine after a stressful day. Your pussy was his reward after a long day of working, and you didn’t want him to go hungry.

[90ekz]

do you think you could write hcs of jean with a softspoken gf? nobody writes for him fr it’s so sad

an! i love jean and this concept anon ! im a soft spoken girl myself so this really hits home 🥹 i hope you enjoy!!

jean as your boyfriend <3

SFW

when you two first started dated, jean was convinced that he hit the lottery. you were everything he ever wanted and he loved a girl that kept to herself.

jean sometimes takes you to wing houses & burger joints and watches with a huge smile as you try to order your food against the chaos of the other people conversing around you. you weren’t the biggest fan of having to yell in public, but you tried your best, and his heart melts everytime.

when you first met him at connie’s house warming party, you bumped into him, spilling the contents of your cup onto his white button up. jean had turned beet red as you stood on your tippy toes to whisper a hurried apology into his ear over the sound of the blaring music, while rushing to go get paper towels.

his favorite thing about you is how attentively you listen. it doesn’t matter what he’s talking about, you’ll be making eye contact and nodding along to whatever he has to say.

gets irritated with you during arguments, because you well… don’t engage. he could be giving a verbal, ten page, double spaced paper about how irritated he is with you, and you’ll just look at him like you’re bored.

“all i’m saying is that you don’t have to get aggressive with me over this. yes, i was at armin’s late and didn’t say anything, but i’ll tell you next time, okay? i’m sorry.” “okay.” “i said sorry, damn! stop yelling!”

you aren’t the biggest fan of confrontation, but he is. connect the dots yourself.

“SHE SAID NO GODDAMN TOMATO!” “it’s fine, i can just take them off—“ “not now, baby. gimme a sec, okay? anyway, FIX HER FUCKING BURGER!”

the two of you communicate so silently that it freaks your friends the hell out. when you want to go home, when you’re tired, when he’s needy, when he’s irritated? easy, simple eye contact will send you or him springing into action to fix the problem.

you may be quiet, but you love to laugh. jean doesn’t think he can think of anything more angelic-sounding than the sound of your genuine laughter, only for him.

jean had to learn how to be more tender when doing daily tasks. he was so used to slamming doors and stomping up stairs that he didn’t remember to adjust that behavior when you moved in.

(the first week you moved in, he’d thrown open the door to your bedroom and felt his chest squeeze as you almost tumbled out of your desk chair. now he puts three gentle taps on every door when he needs to come in.)

physical touch fanatic. end of discussion.

NSFW

lemme tell you, this man takes it to heart when you try to hold in your moans. you’re a little embarrassed with how loud you get, but nothing turns jean on more.

“nuh uh, lemme hear you—need to hear how good i’m making you feel, princess..”

during your first time together, he’d almost cum in his pants at the mere sound of your loud groans bouncing off the walls.

loves when you pull his hair more than anything. he takes it as a sign to go harder, fuck you deeper, and he obliges everytime. his cock throbs harder each time you run your fingers through his loose curls.

about 5.7 inches roughly, but thick. his cock flares as it goes downward; the head being the slimmest part. giving him head is fun, you think.

jean has this weird little fixation with your neck. it doesn’t matter what position he has you in, he’ll have a hand—or his mouth—running across the skin of your throat. backshots? he’s got a hand pressing against your nape to keep you in place. missionary? he’s massaging his thumb over your throat so tenderly that it should be illegal. cowgirl? he’s squeezing the sides of your neck while whispering about how good of a girl you’re being for him. he’s pretty damn weird.

his favorite thing to do is eat you out. you deny it, but your voice shoots up a whole octave when he massages your gspot with his two fingers of choice as he suckles on your swollen clit.

utterly surprised at how much you talk during sex. it almost embarrasses him how much you beg, scream, and whine for him. a mixture of ‘please’s’ and ‘fuck’s being infused in his head for eternity.

“oouu—shit, you’re so fucking loud…”

presses down on your stomach to feel where he is so he can try and go deeper… yeah.

tries to fuck your throat hoarse just to hear your raspy voice for a few hours. you’re such a trooper, just sitting there and taking it for him, even if he laughs at you after.

“babe, i’m so sorry—hahaha!” “this isn’t funny, i sound like t-pain!” “I LIKE THE BARRRTENDERRR—ouch, im sorry, i said i’m sorry!”

aftercare god. he’ll spend hours taking care of you, washing your back in the tub, greasing your scalp, making you tea and cookies, the whole nine. this man loves you deep.

[dfortrafalgar]

hihi

I hope you're doing well :>

Can I request a law x reader period comfort fic that's just pure fluff. with the back rubs and all the good stuff??

Thanks!!

thank you so much for your request anon! I actually got two period-related requests, so i decided to combine them into one fic, i hope that's alright! im currently under the onslaught of the red devil myself as of right now, so writing this was perfect for me. i hope its perfect for you both as well!!!

Warm Away the Pain

Law x Fem Reader

Heat pads, chocolates, and painkillers are nice, but nothing helps your period more than being in the presence of the Surgeon of Death.

Warnings: some suggestive language, mild descriptions of period symptoms, menstruation in general! lots of fluff with our favorite surgeon <3

“Just take this thing out of me!”  Your tears were streaming rapidly down your puffy cheeks as you forced open the door to the medical bay, clutching your abdomen and hunching over with the agony ripping through your gut.  Your cramps had days where they were better or worse, but today seemed to be the most awful they had ever been.  You had barely been able to walk from the Captain’s quarters to the medical ward, the force of each step against the cold metal floors of the Polar Tang sending another stabbing burn directly through your uterus.  It wasn’t like you were new to experiencing menstruation aboard a deep-sea submarine, either, but today seemed particularly keen on making you as miserable as humanly possible.  

Law was caught by surprise when you entered, your voice cracking as you sobbed.  His golden eyes were wide with shock as he turned in his chair to face you, ignoring the stack of paperwork he was previously fixated on and immediately standing, crossing the floor in broad steps to capture your face in his hands.  His thin eyebrows were scrunched in concern, a prominent crease in the skin above his nose.  “Hey, baby, breathe for me,” he coaxed, rubbing your swollen, tear-stricken skin with the pad of his thumb.  “Breathe.  Tell me what’s wrong.”

You knew you were being irrational.  You had dealt with cramps for years before you met Law, but when you had spent the better part of six hours with nonstop scorching irons being driven through your uterus, rationality was the furthest thing from your mind.  You sunk into your boyfriend’s shoulder, his lanky arms looping around you to support your weary form, carefully guiding you to the hard examination table in the corner of the medical room.

“My cramps…” you heaved.  “They’re so bad.  I’m in so much pain.  I just want you to take this damn thing out of me.  Put me out of my misery, even.”

Law’s tiny smile was sympathetic as he gazed down at you, one hand stroking your forehead and the other placed gently above your lower abdomen, providing fleeting touches over where your shirt covered your skin.  Your muscles definitely felt tender, and you were certainly bloated, all tell-tale symptoms of a particularly bad menstruation cycle.

“How about we start with painkillers and some external remedies,” he offered, his usually stoic, cold voice now soft and soothing as he placed a fleeting kiss over your nose.  The privacy that the medical bay provided allowed him to comfortably litter you with tender affection away from the prying eyes of your crewmates.  “When you start to feel better, and you still want a hysterectomy, we can discuss it.”

Your eyes slowly opened, darting to meet him.  “A hysterectomy?”

“The surgical removal of your uterus,” he clarified.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows slightly.  “Maybe not…” you muttered.  “Let’s go with your painkiller idea.”

Your sudden attitude switch made a small chuckle bubble from Law’s lips as he turned away from you and paced toward the medicine cabinet, procuring a decently sized pill and a small metal cup of water.  The white capsule was in the palm of his hand when he returned to your front, holding the items out for you to take.  Despite the uncomfortable size of the medicine, you swallowed it with no issue helped by a generous gulp of the lukewarm water from the Tang’s filtration tap.  The mild, salty aftertaste of the refined liquid lingered on the back of your tongue.

“That should take about 30 minutes to kick in,” Law muttered, taking the cup from your hand once more to sanitize it.  “In the meantime, we can try some other remedies.”

“What do you have?” you asked, gazing skeptically around the dark, sterile room.

“We have a few heat pads that Ikkaku brought with her when she joined, a bath, cinnamon or ginger tea…” he rambled, cleaning out and drying the cup, turning around to lean against the counter to face you.  “Massages can help relieve the tension in your muscles.  Or you can orgasm.”

Heat rushed to your face.  “How do you know that?”

Law’s own cheeks tinted with a very faint blush.  “Reading,” he stated bluntly.

The gaze he directed toward you told you everything you needed to know- he had done more than his fair share of research on feminine health as soon as the two of you solidified your relationship.  But as much as the idea of being swept off your feet by your doting captain and carried to your shared quarters for some time under the sheets sounded tempting, the rippling cramps flowing through your lower belly silenced the sultry thought almost instantaneously.

“A massage sounds pretty nice… and a hot bath…” you muttered, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers.

You were half expecting Law to simply nod and tell you to run yourself a bath, leaving him alone to continue his work in peace and quiet.  The surprise that jolted you from your quiet demeanor was more than welcome, however, when he stepped across the room to plant a swift kiss against your soft lips.  His own were curled in a small grin, reserved yet still so genuine that it made your heart flutter within the confines of your ribcage.

“If you give me about 10 minutes to clean up here,” he began, nodding his head in the direction of his paperwork left on the counter from when you originally entered, “... then I’ll meet you in the washroom.  Alright?”

With heat thrumming through your veins, your boyfriend’s proximity so close you could feel the way his scent practically blanketed around you, you meekly nodded, barely uttering a peep.  He helped you down from the examination table, his calloused hand firmly holding yours, and placed one more kiss against the back of your neck as you exited the medical bay and began your trek to the Polar Tang’s washroom.  The entire submarine only had one designated bathing area, with a few shower stalls and a toilet and sink, along with a deep, metal bathtub in the corner.  While the crew usually followed a strict schedule for bathing time, it was very rare that anyone would be using the space in the middle of the day.

A grin tugged on your lips as you walked through the narrow corridors.

—

You were already submerged in the bathtub when Law entered, steam rising off the surface of the water as you sunk yourself up to your neck in the hot liquid, a thin layer of lavender-scented bubbles floating around the surface of the water and covering bits of your glistening skin.  Your eyes were closed in bliss as the sweet, herbal scent decompressed you from the inside out, but Law’s delicate chuckle broke you from your trance.  He had a small, unlabeled bag in his hands which he placed on the sink counter.

“Looks like you barely need a massage,” he hummed, slipping his shirt over his head and folding it neatly on top of your clothes.  He had absolutely zero need to remove his shirt if he didn’t plan on sitting in the tub with you, but you weren’t about to complain against the wonderful view presented to your sight.

“I still need a massage,” you quickly quipped back, sitting up straighter in the hot water.  You leaned your arms out over the side, hands flexing in a motion to encourage your beloved to come closer and grace your taught skin with the presence of his deft fingers.  Your eyes found the bag Law had entered the bathing room with.  “What’s in the bag?”

Law took the parcel and, after slipping off his socks, knelt beside the bathtub next to you.  He opened the paper container and held it out in front of you.  “Milk chocolates.”

Your eyes lit up, a sopping wet hand dipping into the bag to procure one of the bite-sized morsels, an aluminum wrapping surrounding the sweet.  You carefully unwrapped it with eager hands and glittering eyes as Law watched, the corners of his eyes creased with his smile.  When the chocolate finally passed your lips and sat on your tongue, you melted further into the bathtub, the sweetness of the candy flowing and mixing effortlessly with the supple scent of lavender floating through the air.  Law almost dropped the bag to grab your shoulders, afraid you would slip under the water.

“Law, you’re too good to me,” you mumbled, your eyes closed and your lips pursed as you sucked on the chocolate, savoring the sweetness on your tongue.

“No such thing as ‘too good’ in my eyes,” he retorted, a playful lilt in his voice.  He returned the bag to the sink counter before taking his place behind your shoulders, stretching his hands before they found purchase against your skin.

Law was good at many things, but the way his fingers worked the knots out of your back and shoulders was a level of bliss unlike any other.  Sure, food, bathing, and sex were great, but the feeling of your muscles pulling apart and relaxing with each rotation of his wrists and press of his thumb pads into your soft skin was euphoric.  He worked out taught portions you didn’t even know you had, your shoulders slowly sinking downward as he rubbed you into oblivion.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice low, reverberating off of the metal walls surrounding you.

“Like I could die happily at any moment,” you replied, the chocolate in your mouth now fully melted and gone down your throat.  “Has anyone ever told you you’re a god with those hands of yours?”

Law chuckled, the feeling of his shoulders bouncing coming through his hands on your skin.  “Once or twice.  This girl on my crew likes to tell me that.  Not sure if you’ve ever met her.”

Your lips curling into a smirk, you happily played along with his banter.  “Hmm… can’t say I have.  Describe her for me?”

“She’s really over dramatic.  She came into my office this morning complaining about some period cramps.  I’ve seen her take hits from swords and bullets on the battlefield with less griping.”  A laugh bubbled from his chest as you swiftly pivoted below the water, splashing his bare skin with the warm bath water.

“Well I think she was being perfectly rational!” you retorted, leaning back against the tub and allowing your boyfriend to resume his ministrations against a particularly rough not off to the left side of your spine.  “Period cramps are no laughing matter.”

“So I’ve heard…” he mumbled back, his smirk remaining on his face as he worked.  “It’s alright, though.  She’s cute when she whines.”

More heat flowed through your arteries, unrelated to the temperature of the bath you were submerged in.  If you stayed in here any longer, you were convinced you might pass out by overheating.  Wouldn’t be the first time, the water heater in the Tang’s boiler room was no joke.

Law leaned forward once more and placed a smattering of kisses along your damp shoulders.  “Really, though, how are you feeling?  Has the bath helped?”

You nodded, leaning your head back against his tattooed chest, your eyes closed.  “I’m feeling a whole lot better… still pretty achy, but I think the pain medicine has finally kicked in.  My cramps aren’t nearly as bad as they were this morning.”  

Law’s hands traveled from your shoulders to your arms, basically draping his body over you to rub tender circles against your inner wrists, submerging his own hands under the water.  “As much as I hate to ruin the moment, it’s not good to stay in a hot bath for too long.”  He took your hands from below the surface, holding your palms inward to face you.  “You’re pruning.”

Indeed, the pads of your fingers had become incredibly wrinkled with how long you had been bathing.  Your palms were showing prominent ridges in your skin.  “All good things must come to an end,” you uttered wistfully, leaning forward to pull the plug on the bath drain.

“Not necessarily,” Law stated back firmly, standing up and stretching his lean back.  “I have the rest of the day free thanks to Uni and Clione’s watch shift.  Whatever you want to do to make you feel better, I’m here.”

You turned toward your boyfriend, eyes widened with pure shock.  “Are you serious?”

An affirmative nod and a sly smile answered you.  As the water drained from the basin, you gingerly stepped out of the tub and enveloped the Surgeon of Death in your arms, now desperate for another source of warmth as your skin pierced against the contrasting cold air of the surrounding bathroom.  “The entire day?” you asked, reaffirming what you had just heard.

“The next 13 or so hours,” he replied, his hands taking up their usual perch against the small of your back, rubbing small circles into the tiny knots situated near your rump just as he had been doing to your shoulders.

“You mean you have time to cuddle?  And read Sora?  Or make me something good to eat for dinner?”  Your eyes were practically shimmering as you gazed up at the captain.

“Well I can’t promise any good food, but the cuddling and Sora I can guarantee,” he offered, releasing you from his grasp long enough to snatch a towel from the nearby linen shelf and drape it around your goosebump-riddled shoulders.  “I grabbed one of the heat packs from Ikkaku and put it in our room.  I can see who’s on cooking duty tonight to make you a good meal.”

You grinned from ear to ear, your skin thrumming with the bountiful affection your beloved showered you in.  You carefully tucked the corner of the towel that wrapped around your body under your armpit to hold it in place, Law’s hands dropping from your shoulders to your hips, thumbs rubbing small circles into your pelvic bone through the rough fibers of the aged towel.

“Go get dressed into something comfy,” he uttered, his voice low.  “I’ll meet you back in bed, hopefully with some food that you’ll like.”

You leaned forward, trying to ignore the subdued throbbing in your abdomen that returned once out of the warm, soothing bath, and placed a kiss on the tip of Law’s pointed nose.  “Aye aye, captain.”

—

The feeling of soft cotton surrounding your skin was beyond blissful as you sprawled out on the bed you shared with Law, almost taking up the entire space with your outstretched limbs.  The heat pack from Ikkaku was laid across your belly above the sweatshirt you stole from your boyfriend, providing a comforting heat that relaxed the muscles contracting in your abdomen with every movement.  If this was how bad your cramps could get, you didn’t even want to imagine how awful childbirth could feel.  You shoved that worrying thought to the back of your mind and let the heat from the fabric pack on your body flow through your veins, leaving pleasant electric tingles on the tips of your fingers and toes.  On the nightstand beside your head was a tall glass of water, a bottle of painkillers, and the same bag of chocolates Law had brought into the bathroom with you.  Three discarded chocolate wrappers also dotted the tiny table.  When Law finally entered your room again, his hands carrying a small tray of food from the galley, you barely had the energy to pick your head up to greet him.  Instead, you lazily raised your hand in a small wave before flopping it back down on the blanket beside you.

“How’re you doing?” he asked yet again, moving aside some of the items on the bedside table to place the metal tray down.  The smell of some sort of vegetable soup filled your nose- Hakugan must have cooked tonight.

You simply grumbled, resisting the urge to turn your head.  Every movement seemed to respark the cramps deep in your belly.  “Waiting for the painkillers to kick in again.”

“Is the heat pack helping?” he asked, running his hand gently over the soft skin of your forehead.

“Mhm… kinda,” you whispered.  You slowly opened your eyes, finally meeting the golden ones that gazed back down at you.  “Did you bring soup?”

“Yeah,” he replied, removing his hand from your hairline and crawling onto the bed beside you, slipping his arm carefully over your waist to hold you close to him.  “You don’t have to eat it right now if you don’t have an appetite, but it’s there when you’re ready.”

“Thank you, baby…” you muttered, shimmying closer to his body despite the ache in your legs.  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me today… honestly.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Law mumbled into your hair.  “I love doting on you.  I just wish I could do it more often.”  His hand idly stroked your abdomen up and down over your heat pack, applying a gentle, calming pressure over the parts of your skin that weren’t as close to your uterus and wouldn’t hurt as much to touch.  “As much as I hate seeing you suffering and in pain, I like days like this.”

“Where you can just relax?” you asked, turning your head to hide your nose in the warmth of his neck.

“Yup,” Law replied.  “Relax with you, more specifically.”

The two of you laid in a calm, peaceful silence, the thrumming of the Polar Tang’s engine reverberating through the walls and the steady cadence of your synchronized breathing lulling your muscles into a deep state of relaxation.  As the ache in your belly diminished with the onslaught of a peaceful slumber, you felt Law press one last kiss to the crown of your head as your body dozed off, ready to sleep off the rest of your aches for the day.

[angellayercake]

How about a spicy prompt?? Terzo realizing the reader really likes his hands (tends to stare at them a little too long as he does random tasks, things like that). Take this in whatever direction you see fit. Thanks!

Oh you did it anon! You finally got me to write something about THE GLOVES!!! They make me crazy insane and I probably think about them far more than what is normal but there we go 🙃

Terzo x GN Reader | NSFW | 1200 words

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

You twitch every time a sharp nail comes in contact with the desk. It’s not even the noise that is driving you to distraction. It is those damn gloves. And, well the hands that are wearing them. And by default the infuriating man to whom they belong. 

Why it was decided he needed to wear his full vestments for this particular meeting you do not know but in your mind at least you violently curse the person who insisted on it. It would be a lie to say that you didn't find him distracting on the best of days being so well acquainted with the capabilities of his dexterous fingers but there really is something about those particular gloves that melts your brain among other less appropriate parts of your anatomy. 

Usually it is manageable. Rarely does he wear them and even then you are only cursed with a glimpse from a distance, barely catching the sharp glint of nails and certainly not able to hear the quiet creak of the leather every time he gestures. Which damn his dramatic Italian ass is everytime he speaks.

 At Mass you fight to keep your thoughts on his words as much as you can. Rituals are so full of spectacle and performance it's easy to break your fixation. And official events are usually so stressful you don't have a thought to spare.

But today you are not so lucky. To call this meeting tedious would be under selling the situation greatly. You can't even remember what is about now, which is especially bad for you considering you are supposed to be note-taking. The visiting Cardinals had insisted on meeting with all the Higher Clergy to tell them something they deemed very important but that was proving very dull for almost everyone else. 

Sister Imperator has the appearance of listening attentively but you can see the glaze over her eyes, probably thinking of all the other actually important things she could be doing with this time. To her right Cardinal Copia sits in a similar position to you, notebook and pen in hand, yet every minute or so his grip loosens as his eyelids droop and it's only the dropping of his chin or the pen about to fall from his hand that jolts him back to wakefulness. To her left, Papa Nihil has given up all pretence of paying attention, slouching back in his chair and snoring quietly. 

And then there was Papa. Your Papa. Initially he had tried to engage the visitors with his usual charm but even he had not proved a match for their dreary topics of conversation. So he had taken to torturing you instead. Ever the attentive man he had cottoned on quickly to the way your gaze was drawn to his hands with every flick of his wrist and now seemed to be doing his damnedest to keep them centre of your attention. Which was hardly a challenge. 

Every time he flexes his fingers you watch the leather strain to accommodate the movement of his impatient tapping. They are so tight they fit like, well, a glove, but more indecent somehow. The skin tight leather and the glinting pointed tips elongating his fingers perversely until all you can think about is the way they would feel against your skin. The cool sharp scratch followed by the soothing soft warmth. He likes to tease, to push you to your limits and then further still until all you can think about is him so you can easily imagine how he would start. Seemingly innocuous touches as he slowly peeled away your clothes only to reveal how much the barest touches of his gloved fingers had ruined you.

Suddenly he flattens his hands on his desk in irritation, interrupting the drone of a Cardinal with an angry interjection but after a moment's shock you drown out their bickering taking the opportunity to admire the gloves openly displayed as they are. Careful lines of stitches fan from his wrist, the deliberate placement helping achieve the perfectly tight fit. You had watched him pull them on once, easing them over his hands and struggling to slide down the zip which follows the curve of his thumb and keeps them in place. Clearly still incensed by whatever they are discussing he gestures towards one of them palms up so you can follow the seam across his palm allowing for the movement of his thumbs. 

As precisely as it is sewn you can only imagine how it might catch your pebbled nipple if he were to palm at the curve of your chest as he explored you. Your skin could be left a criss cross of scratch marks as his large hands covered the planes of your body varying the pressure as a threat of something more, the possibility of him breaking your skin ever present. Perhaps they aren’t so sharp as that but a part of you wishes they were as you allow yourself to think about them sliding between your legs.

His finger tips would trace you meticulously, one wrong move and he could damage you severely, but isn’t that a large part of the reason you find yourself so drawn to them. The anticipation tinged with dread of the sharp sting of his claws only building the warm pleasure you feel. And for him, hopefully the power you would allow him to hold over you would only make him want you more, making the necessity of his slow, precise movements even more frustrating for the two of you. 

You realise somewhat detachedly that your pleasure would likely ruin his beautiful gloves. They are such an important part of his image, his costume that marks him as the dark and powerful leader but even then you think you would have no regrets. Not when you would feel the metallic nails grow warm against you or the leather slipping smooth with barely there friction due to your arousal. Perhaps they would survive, stained with the evidence of their effect on you, the scent of you lingering on his fingertips as a reminder of your sweet lustful sin.      

Sister Imperator stands, and everyone else follows her lead, signalling the end of this meeting and breaking your reverie. You risk a glance at Papa, daring to catch his eyes and he knows, he always knows when your thoughts have strayed to the sinful. It is impossible to look away from his smug expression even as his gaze drops down your body knowingly. Slowly, deliberately returning his eyes to yours he beckons you towards him. One long finger curling deliberately pulling you towards him, as inevitable as gravity. Until Cardinal Copia interrupts your line of sight and prevents you from stepping into his orbit. You are needed, urgently for some other pointless duty, the realisation that your fantasy is no longer about to come to fruition dousing your lust as if cold water was cascading down your body.    

Papa’s displeasure flits over his face before his expression shutters and he is back to business even as you are steered out of the room by the Cardinal. You spare him one last look and you can only hope the flash in his eyes and the quirk of his lips are a promise that if not now you will be his again as soon as he can get his hands on you. 

[greg-montgomery]

hiii first of all let me say i am ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE with your blog and that everything you post is amazing <333

.....and since your requests are open, let me give you the receipt to kill me 😈 (or to make my day, it depends)

so that would be a scenario involving hotch x reader + reader ovulating (or in the days before cycle when the hormones are all 🥴🦋🥰🤭🤤) + him being condescending in bed

my brain is fixated on this and I was waiting to request this to someone

⚠️ i am a consent-queen anon and i invite you to write this only if you can/feel like it/have the time to. If not, delete the ask bc i don't wanna make you uncomfortable, you're so sweet in your interactions <3

hiiii <3 you're so sweet!!! i'm super late to this, but i hope you're still around and get to read this and enjoy it <33 ilysm!

minors dni - 18+

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Those damn profilers….and you had to be the one to be dating one of the best of them. It was impossible to hide from Aaron.

It wasn’t common for you, wanting to hide things from him. He was the one who you trusted more than anyone else in your life. But sometimes, you felt…embarrassed of things.

Like that evening, you wanted to have sex with Aaron, but didn’t want to be the one who initiated it again. You were the one who was all over him the night before and that morning. It felt almost humiliating having to ask for sex again.

But you weren’t at fault. Aaron had just come home from work and he was so tired, he didn’t follow his usual routine of taking his suit off and running into the shower. That was the reason you felt guilty for wanting to disturb his resting time. But that was also the reason you wanted him so bad; his suit, his untied tie, the sweat on his forehead. And maybe also the fact that your little period calendar app had reminded you yesterday that you were ovulating.

Still, no matter how much you were trying to conceal your sudden and very much desperate desire for your boyfriend, he was clearly onto you.

“Why are you staring at me, honey?” he asked, not bothering to lift his head to look at you. His eyes were glued on the screen of his phone, going through his emails.

“Just missed you, that’s all.”

“I missed you too, baby.” His deep voice calling you ‘baby’ only worsened your problem. Maybe you just had to get some alone time and take care of it.

“Um…I’m gonna go take a shower, okay?” you said.

“Now?”

“Yeah. Did you wanna go first?”

He finally lifted his gaze from his phone and looked at you with a smirk. “Are you really that desperate?”

“What?”

Aaron threw his phone on the cushion next to him and spread his legs wider. “On my lap.”

As if you were under a spell, you got up without even thinking it, walked towards the couch, and straddled Aaron’s lap.

You were so turned on that even that light touch of your body meeting his sent sparkles to your clit.

His large hands went straight to your exposed thighs, rubbing them up and down.

“My princess,” he said leaving a small kiss on your lips. “Haven’t I told you that I want you to always ask me for what you need?”

“I don’t…”

“Don’t lie to me. I can tell you’re struggling,” he said with a soft laugh. And with a tone that suggested that you were pathetic he added, “You’re horny, aren’t you?”

“Aaron,” you whined, and hit him playfully on the arm.

“Aren’t you?” he repeated.

You were too embarrassed to reply with words so you just nodded your head.

“See? I can always tell what’s going on in that pretty head of yours,” he said, his hand cupping the side of your face, “so you may as well just ask for what you want. It’ll save us both time.”

“You’re being mean,” you said.

“Am I still going to be mean if I get you off?”

Embarrassed or not, his words made your eyes sparkle.

“That’s what I thought. Now take off your clothes,” he ordered.

As you were getting undressed, Aaron unzipped his pants and took his cock out. When you got to the part of taking off your underwear he started stroking himself slowly, not taking his eyes off you for a moment.

You were almost drooling watching him still all dressed up touching himself, and the ache between your legs was getting unbearable.

“Come back here,” he said, once you were fully nude.

His thumb started touching your clit, circling it in a slow pace that made your knees already tremble. “Aaron…”

“Do you like it?”

“Mhm…” you said biting your lip.

“You can be louder, sweetheart. No one’s home but us,” he said and slipped his middle finger in you.

“Ah…”

Aaron’s fingers were thick, and could make you see stars. But at the moment, nothing but his cock could really satisfy you.

“I want you to fuck me. Please, Aaron, I can’t…”

“Okay,” he said, leaning in slightly to leave an open mouthed kiss to one of your nipples. “Okay. I’ve got you.”

He kissed the spot between your breasts and looked up at you with a smile. “You really need me, don’t you baby?”

“So bad,” you admitted.

With that, he pulled you down by your hips, and you took his hard dick in your hand, guiding it into your hole.

“My God,” you moaned at the feeling of him finally filling you up. “Aaron…”

He threw his head back and swallowed harshly at the feeling of your pussy around him. “Ah baby…”

Aaron’s dick was big just like everything else about him, which was exactly what you needed; feeling him deep inside you, hitting every spot that made your thoughts blurry and left you thinking only his name.

Your movements were desperate, riding him and taking him all in like you needed. His hands were on your ass, not to guide you but more for his enjoyment.

You wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed him deeply, wanting to devour every drop of this man’s body. “You feel so good inside me,” you moaned against his mouth.

“You like it, baby?”

“I love it.”

You pulled away just enough for him to move his hands and cup your tits, massaging them as you rocked your hips against his.

“You always take it so well. If only you could see how desperate you look, baby. Just a dumb girl who’s always thinking about my cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Aaron. Yes,” you moaned, and the built up in your lower belly got bigger and bigger.

Aaron started rubbing your clit, faster than he did at the beginning, watching your movements getting more and more clumsy as you were getting closer towards your release.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

“That’s my good girl. Come on, baby. That’s my girl.”

Aaron’s encouraging words, his finger on your clit, and his dick buried in your pussy had you clenching around him and moaning his name. “Fuck.”

“Kneel for me. I wanna cum on your face,” he moaned.

Still feeling numb between your legs, you got on your knees in front of him and watched him as he stroked himself. Soon he painted you with his cum, and you enjoyed the feeling of the warm liquid on your skin. It made you feel his.

[daytaker]

hii hellooo, may i request brothers with a clown core mc? their outfits most often being very colorful but their personality being the opposite? like somewhat cold and very blunt, not talking much and if talking then it’s about something mildly disturbing like murder investigations or an odd fascination with deadly diseases stuff like that

sorry that it’s extremely specific and thank you regardless _(┐「ε:)_

Clown Anon MCs - [ Clowncore MC | Death-Fixated Science Geek MC | LeVeyan Satanist MC ]

When you first arrived, no one was sure what to think. They looked you over. Your pink hair, your cyan shorts. A yellow T-shirt and rainbow suspenders. Gaudy makeup and adorable pink tennis shoes. Beaded bracelets and necklaces and colorful tights.

And a box of smokes in your back pocket.

"Welcome to the House of Lamentation," Lucifer says, gesturing grandly at the stately mansion ahead of you.

You say nothing. Instead, you pull out a cigarette and a lighter. Taking a drag, you lazily gaze at the house, then back at your host, who looks disgusted.

"Make sure you only do that outside," he says, nodding to the box of cigarettes in your hand.

You blow a puff of smoke in his face and start walking to the door, completely ignoring the sounds of Lucifer struggling to contain his rage.

"Why's it called that?" you finally ask as you stop at the front doors. "'House of Lamentation'?"

Lucifer, having composed himself by now, steps up beside you. "This is a replica of a house from the human world," he explains. "In it, an entire family was murdered; the parents, the servant, and six of their seven sons. The seventh--"

"Ohhh. This is the Sutton house," you say, nodding.

"Excuse me?"

"The Sutton house. Massachusetts, 1923. Elijah Sutton, oldest of seven sons, runs into the local tavern screaming that his servant killed the whole family and himself. Most folks today think it was Elijah who really did it. I know I do."

You take one more drag from your cigarette, then drop it on the ground and put it out with the heel of your shoe.

"So this is their house, huh? Sick."

---

It's breakfast on your second day in the Devildom. You took extra time to apply your godawful makeup this morning, and you're sure it shows, because the brothers keep glancing at you as if they're not quite sure what they should say.

"You talk to them, Mammon," mumbles Satan. "You're their babysitter."

"Ah... ahem." Mammon casts a glare at his brother, then looks at you. "So, uh... Human." You stare at him with a dead-eyed expression that seems to unnerve him even more. "...We're goin' to RAD today, and there's a couple a things you should know." You continue staring.

Mammon looks to his brothers for help, but they all avoid eye contact. "Uhhh... Just... try not to get eaten, 'kay? Lucifer'll be pissed if you die on my watch."

"Do demons eat people?" you ask. "Like, raw?"

"Sometimes! So don't mess around with 'em, got it?"

"That's gotta be messy as fuck."

"It is!"

"You got any photos?"

"....Eh?"

---

"So I get that you're the seven deadly sins," you say to Satan, sprawled out in an armchair in the library, "but like... is that all you guys got here?"

Satan, who had been minding his own business and innocently reading a book of curses, looks irritated. "Is that all of what?"

"I dunno. Bad shit shaped like people." You shrug. "Like, you got the Four Horsemen or somethin'?"

"Of course not," Satan snaps. "That would be ridiculous."

You shrug. "Embodiment of plague? Too ridiculous to believe. Embodiment of wrath? Well, obviously that's a thing."

---

"You have to make pacts with Lucifer and his brothers," Belphie urges you through the door. You stare at him, then take a drag from your cigarette. As long as Lucifer is occupied in the music room with that weird record, you're going to break every rule in this damn house.

"How am I supposed to do that? Am I gonna split up my soul Horcrux style? Give everybody a slice?"

Belphie stares at you for a few seconds. You don't realize how badly he wishes he could kill you in this moment. "Are you going to help me or not?"

You shrug. "What do I get out of it?"

He blinks at you in utter bewilderment. "You... make me happy?"

You stare at him. He stares at you. You stare at him. He continues to stare at you.

You head back down the stairs.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Male Yandere Parasite x Female Wife Reader

Inspired from Tomie, but what if a human scientist decided to genetically alter himself to be able to move from one host to another, taking over their body, and replacing the original host entirely? (Original host is dead, with their body acting as a husk puppet for yandere parasite). Yandere parasite decided to do this to try and achieve immortality so he could be with reader darling (literally) forever. The “only problem” is that he has to convince her now to let him do the same procedure on her so they both can be together forever…

This definitely goes into the body horror genre, so I don’t want you to freak out from potential graphic writing if you’re uncomfortable writing it. Stay in your comfort zone as always! I just thought this’d be a fun take on the “eternal soul mates” trope

Thanks!!! 💝

Yandere! Male! Parasite x Female! Professor! Wife! Reader

💝anon, this tested me ways I don't think is possible. But damn was it enjoyable to write.

For your other requests, I have to reject some ideas ;-; Don't get me wrong, your ideas are fantastic, but the requests reached my quota and I spun the wheel to choose which requests to do TT__TT

Not just 💝's requests too, some of others got rejected also due to again, having reached the quota already huhuhu.

Yandere! Parasite name: Acheron

Immortality. A lot of people want to live forever. Some go through the supernatural route, some religious, and some the scientific route of insanity.

Acheron has always been the weird kid.

A lot of people doesn't understand his genius, and his fixations on parasites didn't really help people understand his unique understanding of the world.

And he, who doesn't really see the importance in human interaction, didn't care to connect with people also.

He's quite cold, always had a perpetual annoyed look in his face, and doesn't smile until he talks about parasites.

He's in his own little world, in his own little space.

Yet, Acheron, despite being an unusual genius in his family, can only be reclused so much until he needs to actually go fight in the real adult world.

After graduating with a parasitology degree, he was lost, and didn't know what to do.

Sure, he could work in labs and study parasites as much as he wants, but working in a lab with other scientists that can be potentially more knowledgeable than him doesn't really sit well.

He's quite arrogant in his own right.

So, setting up a lab in his own home, he started to do experiments by himself.

Nobody to tell him that his experiments are unethical, nobody to tell that he's doing too much, nobody to tell him that "No, Acheron, using people for your parasitic experiments is bad!"

Well, who is the bad person now, huh?

He looked up at the vial in front of him. It was weird, seeing this small parasite wriggle and write letters on the glass with its slime.

The consciousness of the person he kidnapped to experiment on has transferred to this little worm.

And, on the table, is a comatose body who's only alive due to the machinery.

Never mind that the parasite spelled "HELP ME" on the glass, he just continued to place the parasite up the nose of the comatose body.

And, as he got out of the experimentation room and locked it up, he smirked once he saw the body twitch and writhe, and by the two hour mark, the man was slamming the glass walls, demanding to be let go and for him to return to his old body.

Acheron lets out a loud, triumphant, yet cruel laugh.

Consumed by his own ego, pride, and desire for immortality, he finally made the perfect vessel to be immortal himself.

He punched the red button and turned his back on the man, whose coughs and wheezes so as his pleadings turned to quiet murmurs. And, a sound of a falling body was heard.

And that is the story of how the first immortal emerged from a humble, blood filled, homemade lab.

It was the year 20XX, 50 years after the mysterious disappearance of Acheron in his home. It was burned down, but not a body was found.

Well, his body is not found.

Countless bodies were found under his garden, and one was found inside the burnt home. Including his parents.

There is no clear factor on which targets Acheron picked. All of them were at random.

But all of them had one thing in common. Inside of them were some type of parasite that was unknown.

It seems genetically modified, but was too dead or too burnt to be identified properly.

He's known as the parasitic recluse, as he's rarely seen outside of his, well, his parents' home, and that he's a parasitologist.

People theorized on what he did, and why was he experimenting. Did his parents knew about his work? Or are his parents in on it?

It was skin crawling, thinking what Acheron might have done to these people.

It's the start of the new semester in all of educational facilities. In one of the Ivy League Universities, one of the beloved professors in the biology department is walking towards the field to induct the new professors which just got hired.

Young as he may, he smiled at the students and co-personnel passing by him as took his place in one of the chairs.

It's Acheron, who took over the body of a well known parasitology professor in the University. After he passed by the office one day with his previous body, the professor coincidentally got a heart attack and died. So, he transferred bodies and framed it that his previous body was the one who got a heart attack.

It's been three years since then, and he finally got access to a bigger lab, and more knowledge from this body's previous knowledge.

He's thriving immensely. Immersed in work, experiments, and research now that he has all the time in the world. Honestly, this would have been such a heartfelt want if not for the fact that he did horrible experiments to people to gain such power.

Once the speakers played a royalty free music to start the ceremony, Acheron stood tall and scanned the new professors before landing his eyes on a starry eyed woman.

His heart raced a bit as he saw you look at him with such adoration, like he was your idol.

It was... Refreshing. He's never been looked up to like this, even before the ceremony.

After the inauguration, you hopped towards him with a grin. He also had a small smile.

"Sir [redacted]!" You cheerily said, pertaining to the person Acheron is occupying now. "I'm such a big fan of yours! Your researches, and I have a collection of parasites you discovered!"

Acheron chuckled liking your enthusiasm. It feels good to have such a fan like yourself.

"Well, thank you, miss..?"

"Y/N!"

"Y/N..." The way your name rolled off his tongue felt good, but he doesn't know why.

"May I invite you to drink some coffee, sir? I really want to talk to you more..." You shyly said, holding his hand.

He cleared his throat, suddenly shy and hot.

For the first time in his life/ves, he felt attraction, a simple crush wanting to bloom to a bigger thing. It's scary, but his heart yearned for more. After years of being barren, you burrowed yourself into a you-shaped hole in his heart and refused to be let out.

Slowly his fixation got a one up. Other than parasites, he's fixated on you.

Dating him is fun. Although, there are some times he gets a bit too jealous and possessive. He told you he planted some trackers in you, he's confrontational about your other co-workers and even students, and threatened to kill himself if you leave him.

It was extreme that even Acheron is winded by how extreme he is. But does he care? Somehow, but his heart was too much to be dictated.

And you, the blind person you are due to idolization, ignored these red flags and married him only after 6 months of dating.

After marrying, on your 1st year anniversary, he revealed everything.

And I mean, everything.

Acheron fully became comfortable around you.

He's much more lenient now as he studied researches and experimented with parasites.

It was weird, seeing him suddenly become so complacent with you. When he's such a red flag before, now it's almost a complete 180.

Did his insecurities die off..?

Now that you say that, he's really busy these days.

Maybe that's why he doesn't really have time for you anymore?

Somehow, that upset you a lot.

So, you confronted the guy in the laboratory you and him shared.

Opening the door slightly, you poked your head through the opening and saw him experimenting on a worm. The worm wiggled, as if spelling something.

Your heart trembled. Yes, you love Acheron, but sometimes, he does freak you out.

"Acheron? Are you busy?" You whispered, a bit of a sad edge on your voice.

"Hmm?" He looked up at you and grinned. "Love! How are you?"

He took off his gloves and went up to you. Hugging your body against him excitedly.

"What do you need?"

"Um, actu--"

"Well, whatever. Love! I finally remade the parasite!"

Your stomach dropped. Suddenly feeling dread on your stomach.

"P-parasite..?"

"Yes."

He grabbed a vial and showed you a worm suspended in water. It was just calmly wriggling around.

"I want you to inhale this, alright? Don't worry, it will only hurt a bit." He said with a manic grin.

Your heart pounded, your trembling eyes looking at the vial and back to him.

You could see parasites wriggling around in his eyes.

"Come on love, don't worry. It's completely safe!"

He held your shoulders, gripping it strong that you can't even break out of his hold.

You can't run.

You wanted this relationship.

So suffer the consequences.

"We will be together, forever!"

[pro-mammonologist]

I've got some headcanons!

Even though Mammon's far from a virgin by the time he and MC get together, he doesn't last very long the first few times they have sex because he's so excited to be with them.

As a dom, I think Mammon would lean more towards being fun and caring than a Hard Strict Daddy Dom™️. He can be firm, but he doesn't want to come across as harsh, and the idea of giving them an Actual Punishment leaves a bad taste in his mouth. He's got a long history of being punished. He also won't be very comfortable with degrading MC. He'll call them stuff like "my slut," but anything relating to their worth or intelligence is a hard limit for him.

Degradation is a hard limit for him as a sub, too. He'll let MC tie him up if they want, under the condition that they don't leave the room until after he's been untied. He's into impact play (specifically caning), electrostimulation, and wax/temperature play. Probably (definitely) more but that's what my mind is fixated on rn lol

He's 100000% got a praise kink (big shocker, I know). If he's subbing, he needs plenty of praise throughout aftercare. If he's domming, he still needs some praise - but that's got more to do with reassuring him that he did well and didn't hurt them, and can wait until the post-scene discussion

He loves giving and receiving overstimulation. He's greedy for his own pleasure as well as MC's. He likes to be edged - well, he likes the payoff - and could be talked into short-term chastity, but I couldn't see him being alright with anything longer than 24 hours (especially if there's a chastity device involved).

He *could*, in theory, edge MC. But he caves almost as soon as they start begging.

I have sooooo many more headcanons about Mammon as both a dom and a sub (and I'm more than happy to share) but I need to go to bed lol

Also, I love your blog! I'm so glad there's someone else who loves Mammon so much!

-- 🐦‍⬛ anon [this is my first time submitting an ask - is this nickname taken?]

I am going to address all of these individually.

1. Yes. Accurate. And I feel like the demons have low expectations for humans sexual prowess since humans have a lower tolerance for everything and also the fact that since they are western demons, they likely have interacted with the western hemisphere the most and anyone who has take a history class can tell you it’s been puritan af up until the 60s.

Also to add on to that. He’s not as embarrassed by the fact that he’s cumming fast but due to the fact he’s cumming insanely fucking hard to the point he can’t do as many rounds.

2. He’s a cocky ass bastard when he doms. He can try to be hard but he’s the kind to immediately melt after Mc does something too cute. He’s mostly cocky and teasy and praisey. And also he’s nervous about degradation too. The only way he’d do it is if you gave him very detailed and precise instructions or if he was like in a random context “damn you’re a real slut for some bacon” and then he gets scared that he offended you but you’re like “I’m a slut for you mammon.” And then he’s just shook to his core.

3. Yeah for real, he’ll be your slut and that’s about it. Mammon won’t do anything to Mc he wouldn’t want done to him. Bondage kinda pisses him off in my opinion like— he’d be for it but then he’d be like 😡😡😡 “let me out I’m losing it” and not in a cute pathetic way but in a damn whys he look so pissed?

Electro. Yes. Wax. Yes. Temperature. Yes. But I gotta know why you think he likes caning I cannot see him liking pain toys that much. I can see the sensational side of his masochism but like something real hard??? Nah he’s a baby. I just can’t see it.

4. Yeah there’s no discussion there. I think people are weird if they don’t have a praise kink. For mammon he goes nuts for it tho.

5. Yes, he’s the greediest most eager bastard out there and I can see him always down for it too. If he’s not down for it, then he really really really needs to rest or relax and maybe sex shouldn’t have been on the table period. Mammon wouldn’t edge for long, he likes the idea, but the actual wait kills him. And yea, chastity might kill him too and he’d have some hard ass limits. I feel like he wouldn’t like a device at all. Shit I can’t even see him going past 24 minutes, let alone a whole day with a device. He likes pressure and pain but he doesn’t like having his greed suppressed that badly. Of course, who knows, if Mc begs he’d do anything.

6. Yeah…. He’d cave so hard. He’d push and push and push himself to edge Mc but fail after making them hold back 2 times.

Mammon also is (in my mind) the most shy about his kinks because he’d face bullying whether he’d dom or sub sooo. Him getting to admit everything would be so hard.

Also no, it’s not taken.

[herejusttosufferalong]

Hello, SEX anon again.

Been a while. Gonna try this sober. God bless my soul.

Soooooo.... what's been happening? Not much, you say? Everything's going swimmingly? Not much to report. Like a big pizza pie? That's amore, you say? Hah cringe, death. OH GOOD! I had this weird feeling like things were getting messy? Like impending doom. Like walls crashing in on me. Suffocating me. DROWNING IN A SEA OF MY OWN GODDAMN TEARS. Killing me softly with his song. No, all good, yes? We good? We fine? Oh, for the love of Lukola, what a relief.

It would be incredibly embarrassing if I lost myself... became too dramatic, too obsessive, too unhinged. Getting messy, talking about 'it was all PR, god damn it'. Sobbing uncontrollably into my 'Polin 4eva' t-shirt. Can you imagine? NO, ffs. You ain't getting that from me. I'm stability personified. Try to shake me, make me shook... uhm, nah... not happening. I'm a goddamn beacon in the darkness. Hard af. And you are too, Suffer. I like you. You are a nice boulder. That sweet spot of self-aware delulu that fills me up, just right.

I dunno, anyone else got a sadistic smile plastered on their face, or that just me? I never knew part 3 (or is it 4? 5? fked if I know) could be so fkn good. It has everything. Sun, sea, self-annihilation. Everything. Some critiques though. Just one or two. Just... a few notes. Look, like everyone else I'm a sucker for the mirroring of themes, but I dunno, it's getting a little repetitive, no? Seen one orgy, seen them all, right? And the new cast? Uhm, like, I see that they're trying... I really can. But Shonda? Jess? Tom? You might want to have a word to casting. I dunno, like. What are they going for? Friend, foe, fkbudy? It's really hard to tell. It's giving... mummy paid for my acting classes and slept with the producer. Sorry that was unfair... mummy didn't pay for acting classes coz you self-taught, baby. You a star, look at you, friggin' twinkling. Big smile, baby... twirl... fkn death. On an unrelated note, anyone got some Tums? Nicotine? Heroin? Big goddamn sledge hammer with my name on it? No... ok. Shame.

But you know what, that main character, w/e his name is, fk he's good. Portraying emotionally disconnected, hanging by a thread, cognitive dissonance like a fkn pro. I'm impressed. Oh wait, that's Ol' Col', you say? Mr Fingerton? Really? Oh yeah, I shoulda known. Shoulders so broad them eclipse the sun. Thighs so thic them part the seas. How much you bench, bro? Answer: Me. You: What? Me: Yes. Fk, I remember him. But hasn't he played this sequence before? I thought we resolved these demons? No, oh, something about a siren song? Something about Pinocchio? Real bohy, invisible strings, suede clogs? Speaking of, where his Queen? She know he's on vay-cay teaching swim school on screen? She gonna be there too? Dressed for the occasion, tatas on show? Run sequence? Glistening, heaving... Sorry, uhm, where was I? Oh yeah... how come when I close my eyes all I see is his finger in her mouth? Oral fixation by proxy, isn't it? Mhmm. Nice.

Eh... you know what, I changed my mind. This part is all A-grade material. I can't tell where fiction starts and reality ends, and you know what, that's the place I like to inhabit. Coz you tell me tomorrow that Lady Tata and Ol' Col' been together 4 years, expecting their 5th child, maybe first grandchild? I'll drink it, I'll snort it, I'll bathe in it. And you know what, I just know you would too... slutty smirk.

The main character needs to come on home

💜🥃

[maybankxw]

Please make a part 3 to night call with reader and jj ending up together 🥺any way you want i just can't take a sad ending or I might cry/die 🐬

A NIGHT CALL, [3]

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings: mature content ahead! [ cheating!; oral, male receiving; swearing; unprotected sex; mentions of blood, abuse; ] minors dni!!!

summary: its just a kook party where everything takes a turn

word count: 2.4k

a/n: pt 3 as requested! I hope you enjoyed these tiny series <3 if you have more requests you're welcome in ask box x her pov!

links: masterlist / taglist / ask box

any feedback (comments, reblogs, anon asks) would be appreciated! 

“Sarah is here, I’m gonna go say hi,” I let go of Nick’s arm, walking towards a friend of mine.

There was a huge event happening tonight, the alley covered in flowers and garland lights, drinks served all around, people dressed in black and white. Rich people. 

I didn’t wanna go at first, but they promised drinks and I loved getting some fun with those. Nick found himself a company, two old men, probably talking about some business shit. That wasn’t my forte, I was not interested in the slightest, so I made my way straight to Sarah.

Right when I was about to approach her, my eyes spotted a familiar figure. He looked, damn, he looked even hotter than before — white shirt was half unbuttoned, apparently he was wearing all his shirts like that, his little necklace dangled on the neck, black jacket and pants tight and tailored. Fuck me. I was staring and only snapped out if it when someone accidentally pushed past me.

Me and JJ haven’t spoken for three days and it drove me fucking insane. I was wondering what he was doing there anyways.

There were tables and plates and silverware and cards with participant’s names. I snatched one, fished out a lip liner from my bag. JJ was still there, laughing and squeezing Sarah’s shoulder. It looked like he was about to leave, so I wrote down a message right as I hurried forward. It said ‘Meet me on the shore at 10:15. Right side.’

There was a sea line down the alley, one side had moored yachts and ships, the other was in the dark, empty, now that it was around 10 PM it stood still and quiet. 

“Hey, Sarah!” I waved at her, making my way closer, giving her a tight hug, JJ remained on the same spot. I met a pair of blue eyes staring at me, there was something in those eyes that looked a lot like relief, like he was waiting for me to be here.

“Hi baby,” Sarah exclaimed, patting my back, “Long time no see! This is JJ Maybank, I assume you heard of him.”

“I have,” I gave him a smile, stretching my arm out to give a handshake, slipping him a note as well. 

“Don’t believe everything you hear, those are all lies,” he chuckled, clutching the card in his fist.

“Pleasure to meet you,” I murmured, watching him biting his smile back. I was so desperate to kiss him.

“The pleasure’s all mine.” He grinned and excused himself, walking in unknown direction. We chatted a little more with Sarah. She caught me up on all the news with her boyfriend, she also mentioned J again, saying he finally got the job as a security guard there.

We took a drink together, then her parents stole her away from me. It was nearly the time so I sneaked down to the shore only to find JJ already waiting there.

“You haven’t called.”

“I know.”

He walked closer, stopping a few inches away from me, his huge palms engulfed mine, his gaze fixated on our hands.

“So I heard you’ve gotten the job?”

“Mhm,” he smiled faintly at me, finally meeting my eyes, “I’m sorry, I figured you wouldn’t wanna talk to me. This sounds so stupid, but I guess I was just scared of you rejecting me so much I chose not to hear anything from you at all.”

“I always want to talk to you.”

The moment got so intimate, we were hidden in the dark, soft warm wind caressed our skin and messed with our hair, he looked so handsome, so inhumanly handsome I was ready to take him right there.

He pressed his forehead to mine as he held my face in his hands, trying to resist me so hard. His face scrunched up, like he was in pain and his jaws tightened, “I can’t stop thinking about you, I can’t get you out of my fucking system. That’s why I haven’t been calling. I thought that would help to ease, to forget, but how can I forget you?”

I kissed him. I kissed him deep, trying to fit all my love for him in that kiss, slowly and deliberately. Now I was the one holding his face as he pressed me further into his body by my waist. 

When our lips parted, he panted, hard, like he couldn’t believe he was kissing me, like he was scared he will never kiss me again. It felt the same for me. 

He dove in for more, catching my bottom lip in between his, not willing to let go of me. 

Someone started yelling up the alley, I recognised a familiar voice. That was Nick’s.

“We need to get back,” he rasped, our noses still brushing.

“I’ll find you later, I promise,” I planted one more kiss on his lips.

He ran to the alley to see what happened as I walked past him.

There was a fight between two guys, one of them was Nick. I saw them kicking each other in the face, so much rage, I felt uncomfortable.

“Stop it! Stop it now!” I yelled, approaching the scenery, noticing JJ already dragging the other guy away from my boyfriend and some other security holding Nick back. 

“You motherfucker,” a guy who started a fight yelled in Nick’s face, shoving JJ off of his back, accidentally hitting him in the face, “You touch her again, I’ll smash your fucking face against the wall.” He spat out some blood and turned to walk away. My face was filled with terror, my eyes started watering, Maybank was behind covering his whole cheek, I could see he was in pain.

“What the fuck was that?” I snapped at Nick, my jaws gritted. I was so mad at him, but the fight was nothing compared to the truth I found out later.

“Nothing,” he shoved past me heading to the bathroom.

I didn’t go after him.

“Someone bring the first aid kit,” I called as everyone kept staring in shock, “Now!”

“Here,” an old lady handed me a tiny bag.

“I’ll do it,” a brunette girl tried to snatch the bag away from me, she looked like a barbie, that was sickening.

“No,” I protested, gripping the material tighter, “I’m starting med school, need practice,” I gave her a fake smile, grasping the bag and turned back to JJ, he was hiding a chuckle.

He had a busted lip, it didn’t look as bad, but still needed some treatment. I helped him down on a bench, the rest of guests returned to what they were doing, except for a few curious, who still started at us from afar.

“Med school huh?” He grinned, hissing at the pain and licking his lips.

“I lied,” I grinned back, “Does it hurt a lot?” “It’s fine. I’ve had it worse. Don’t even need the first aid, but since it’s you’re the one doing it, I might actually pretend I’m in so much pain and stay here with you.”

I let out a happy sigh, pouring some alcohol onto a cotton pad, gently applying it around his wound, wiping the blood, “Now hold this for a while,” I scooped some ice from a champagne bucket and wrapped it into a napkin, pressing it against the corner of his lip.

Suddenly someone clamped my wrist, my head swivelled back to see Nick standing tall behind me. He looked angry.

“Let go,” JJ also stood up towering over me, I was caught in between them two.

“Who are you?” Nick snapped, jerking me, “Get up, we have to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you explain what the fuck happened here.”

I freed myself from his hold, my back was facing JJ now, I felt the warmth of his body behind mine. It was so tempting, just to lean back and sink into the enticement of his body.

“I’ll explain later.”

“Now, Nick.”

“I’ll leave you two to it,” JJ whispered in my ear, his fingertips brushed my hip, catching a hem of my silky dress, I wished he ripped it off of me. A whiff of his cologne caught my senses and for a second I felt my body weakening, lost in that night we spent together, “Find you later.”

“So?” my attention went back to the guy in front of me, “Who was that, what happened? Why did you fight?”

“I’ve been cheating on you.”

I froze on the spot. That meant it didn’t happen only once. That story took an interesting turn, I remained silent waiting for him to spill more.

“I screwed young girls, from eighteen to twenty. One of the latest only turned eighteen a week ago, that was her brother.”

“For how long?”

“Months.”

“I cheated on you too.”

“What?” His eyes widened, “You don’t mean it. You’re only saying it to hurt me, you’re fucking lying.”

“What makes you think that?” I licked my dry lips and stepped closer, “This haven’t been working for a while now and I see why. Things started feeling off back in November, let me guess this was the time you started fucking around? The only thing I don’t understand is why you kept being in this relationship, your parents hate me, you don’t have anything for me. That is fucking pathetic. It’s where we end. I fucked up too, but I’m happy I did. Goodbye Nick.”

I plopped down on the bench, gulping a glass of champagne. JJ was standing with two girls, chatting about something. He was smiling. 

I pulled out my phone and send him a text, ‘Going home. Come in for a drink after work.’ I also put my address in there and hit send.

Back in my house I felt relieved. Heels off and I poured myself a glass of wine, realising I haven’t eaten anything in hours. I put an apron on to keep my dress clean, turned the music louder to brighten up the mood and started cooking.

It didn’t take me too long to boil some pasta and make a sauce for it all. I swung my wine in my glass, taking tiny gulps.

A sudden knock on the door startled me, I turned the music down, heading to the entrance. JJ was there, he was hiding something behind his back. Involuntary, I smiled, twisting the lock and opening the door for him to come in.

“You came.”

“That’s what she said,” he whispered, grinning like an idiot.

I smacked him in the shoulder, “You just ruined a movie worth moment,” I said playfully, closing the door behind, “Are you hungry?”

“I’ve got something for you,” he pulled out a tiny bouquet of sunflowers handing it to me, “Met a granny passing the street, selling those, thought you might like it.”

“Can I kiss you,” my voice came out as a whisper as I accepted the flowers and walked closer.

“If you want.”

I let the bouquet rest on the coffee table, tiptoeing closer, winding my arms around JJ’s neck, planting a kiss on his lips. He tasted like alcohol, smoke and mint, “I want more than just to kiss you.”

“Oh fuck, come here.” He made me jump up, his fingers dug into my hips, holding me tight against his torso. We made it to the couch, he was hard, I could feel it through this trousers. 

I made a deliberate move, making him groan into the kiss and press me tighter into him. His hair was ticking my forehead, I could feel a subtle stubble on his cheeks, he smelled nice, musky, there was a hint of spice in his cologne. “This is a really nice fucking dress, but it will have to go off.”

Lust swirled in his eyes, his ocean blue turned dark. My fingers undid the rest of the buttons and I spread his shirt open, scratching a path down his chest and his stomach, finding his belt and zipper. His pants and underwear went down the floor to rest around his ankles, his cock sprung out, hard, leaking, begging for attention. 

His eyes turned molten, skimming my body, stopping at my panties, “Off.”

“No,” I replied, smirking, sliding off of his lap and kneeling in front of him. My fist wrapped around his cock and I gave him a few gentle strokes, planting a kiss on his tip, before sticking my tongue out and running a stripe up the underside of his base. JJ’s eyes fluttered closed, his hand settled in my hair and a groan fell from his lips when mine swirled around his broad head lapping it over and took him in. I moaned at the taste of him in my mouth, sending vibrations through his body, my head bobbed up and down slowly, one of my hands scratched his thigh.

“Fuck, yes,” he moaned, twisting my hair tighter, slightly pushing me down, his cock hitting the back of my throat, “Come up here,” he demanded, pulling me up, sliding my panties off and sitting me down on him, “Wanna kiss you, while I fuck you.”

He gave me some time to adjust, his palms were heavy on my hips as his lips teased my neck, making me whimper and start grinding back and forth.

“J—“ I whispered, locking my eyes with his, staring into the deep blue, my fingers fiddling with his necklace, “I don’t want you to go, ever.”

“What about—“ “We’re not together anymore, we broke up.”

His lips found mine again in a hot, lustful kiss as he started pounding into me harder, picking up the pace, making my breaths hitch and my nails dig into the skin of his shoulders. “Does that mean you’re mine now?” He rasped, unable to catch his own breath, locking his eyes with mine.

“As long as you want me to,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to his lips,  feeling my high too close. I nuzzled his neck to cover my whimpers, his hold on my body tightened, his eyes squeezed shut and so did mine. My clit brushed his pelvis as he lengthened his strokes, his groan was muffled by my collarbone. Thick warm ropes of cum filled me in, that spurred me to come harder, creaming over his cock, sensitive and out of breath, dizzy. 

I tug on his hair, still moving on top of him, whining under his ear, “Fuck, I— You feel so good.”

He gave me another kiss, his thumb brushed my lower lip as I studied his face, a thin layer of sweat coated his forehead, his hair a mess. He was fucked out. “Stay the night?” I whispered, mindlessly drawing patterns on his chest, feeling him softening inside me.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, I’ve got wine, pasta and a second pillow.”

“That sounds like a date.”

“It might become one.”

[eoieopda]

What about a morning-after drabble for Stay? 👈🏻👈🏻 (finger guns)

oh damn, do you have a permit for those?? 👀

also tysm for this request! i loved thinking about what would’ve happened next if i’d kept writing! ✨ this is in jungkook’s pov since “stay” was in reader’s!

anon is referring to this one-shot.

Jungkook had pinched himself four separate times.

There was a red mark, likely to bruise, where the knuckle of his index finger trapped that poor bit of forearm against the side of his thumb. No matter how many times he did it, no matter how angry his skin got, he wasn’t convinced.

He had to be dreaming. He had to be; it was the only logical explanation. His subconscious had projected this scene onto the screen behind his eyes a thousand times: waking up next to you, feeling the warmth emanating from your body so near to his. And as soon as he reached out to pull you closer, it would be over. He’d wake up wishing he hadn’t.

The waking world didn’t work this way, not for him. His friends believed him to be outgoing, but Jungkook was shy. Painfully so. Whoever had driven to your house in the wee hours of the morning - without an invitation, unannounced - wasn’t the Jungkook he knew.

That person - the one who pinned you against your bedroom door, teased you, confessed to you, carried you to bed, put his lips and his tongue and his hands everywhere on your lithe body - was a stranger.

The real Jungkook - the one who pined after you consistently from kindergarten to present - spent the better part of two decades on the sidelines. The real Jungkook had fumbled the moment so many times, he’d ejected himself from the game.

Whoever he’d been the night before - well, shit, Jungkook owed him a beer.

Reinforcing his self-proclaimed status as a coward, he nearly jumped through the ceiling he’d been staring at when your startled yelp hit his ear. Heart in his throat, he cranked his neck to the side. He expected there to be a spider in the bed - you hated those - or perhaps a ghost on the other side of the room - you loved those - but your wide eyes were fixated solely on him.

Your eyebrows shot up on your forehead, though they were heavily obscured by the messy waves falling with a mind of their own. Fuck - did you wake up this beautiful every day?

“You!” Your gasp barely made it out of your mouth with how kiss-bitten your lips still seemed to be.

To get your message across, you punctuated that shocked sound with your hand, reaching out and gently placing it over his face. You picked it up just to move it elsewhere, as if you were studying his features and would be quizzed on them later. Or maybe you were charting a topographic map and simultaneously committing every plane to memory.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, though his words were muffled against your soft touch, “Do I have something on my face?”

Quickly, you retracted your arm. Your hand curled inward and came to rest against your sternum, “Just me, apparently. Sorry, I just - I had to check.”

Your cheeks turned their signature pink. As that blush crept across your cheekbones, you bit your bottom lip the way you always did when you got embarrassed. He tried so hard to fight off a grin, but his failure tugged the corners of his mouth upward.

“What, that I wasn’t replaced by a body double?” He snickered, “A wax figure?”

Your brows furrowed as your rose petal lips poked out. Oh, god, not the pout! He was far too weak a man to withstand it. His heart had just barely survived your little jump scare. But then you hid your face where his bare shoulder met your sheets and you nestled in until your shyness was securely out of view.

If he had been standing, he would’ve dropped to his knees.

Nuzzled so close to his bicep, that soft little whine was all but inaudible: “No, and it’s too early to make fun of me. These are soft hours!”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed with a fond smile as he lifted his hands in defeat. You, of course, couldn’t see the white flag waving from where you were buried. “Then what were you checking?”

“That I’m awake.”

Oh, his stupid, stupid heart. It was sprinting a marathon, and the finish line was nowhere in sight. He’d simply never recover from you and your soft hours.

He glanced down where your face might have been. Your eyes cracked open just in time to lock with his, and they were twinkling. Fairy lights, delicate and warm. He only looked away to draw your attention to his other arm, which he lifted from his side and held in view.

Gently, you reached out. The tip of your index finger was a whisper against his screaming skin, and he would’ve believed it without question if that stopped his bruise from forming. He answered before you could ask: “I spent the last fifteen minutes pinching myself.”

“And? What’s your conclusion?” You asked, resetting your sleepy sights on his face.

Brave, for once, he interlocked his fingers with yours. A perfect fit - if only it hadn’t taken him so goddamn long to test his hypothesis. He sighed thoughtfully and directed his admission more to himself than to you, “Most awake I’ve ever been, I think.”

It was feather-light, your chaste kiss on his shoulder, but it packed a punch nonetheless. Instinctively, his head tilted so that he could rest his cheek against the top of your head. From there, he mumbled:

“Dreaming or not, I’m staying in this bed with you all damn day.”

[sebsxphia]

Rheet with not only a breeding kink but he will go absolutely feral-primal even- over the fact that you start to lactate. Your so good. Providing for the child and he can't help to feel a pang of guilt that he gets sort of jealous of the kid. But man does he want to be the one sloth against your breast, nursing. You petting his head and whispering how well he is doing. Will absolutely derail it into the most filthy sexual act if you let him. Has you split open and folded in half in no time, his greedy mouth never leaving your tits.

jesus fuckin’ christ dear anon 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

i’ve mentioned rhett’s lactation kink before, but this, this is fucking art and belongs in a god damn museum. you have captured rhett’s lactation kink PERFECTLY.

it’s something rhett never thought he would experience. seeing you gently soothe your little ones head and whisper sweet praises about how well they’re doing, rhett felt something twitch deep within his gut and shamefully, in his trousers too.

his brow was furrowed as he watched you from the doorway to your nursery and when you caught his eye, ready to greet your husband after a day out on the ranch, the look in rhett’s eye was primal. it was something you’d seen on only a handful of occasions, one being the night when your child was convinced.

you finished your feed and put them down for a sleep, ushering rhett out of the room after he kissed them softly goodnight.

“are you mad at me, abbott?”

“mad? no- fuck, no, darlin’.”

“then what? you’re looking like you want to eat me alive.”

rhett’s gaze drifted down to your shirt and fixated on some of your milk leaking through the cotton. you recently had some difficulties feeding your little one and you found yourself with plenty of milk left over.

you cocked your head to the side and a knowing smile twitched on the corner of your lips.

“oh, you’re not, jealous, are you?”

rhett’s eyes came back to yours and his eyebrows twitched into a frown again. he was unsure of what he was about to admit to himself.

“i- i don’t fuckin’ know, alright? all i know is i want you. i want to taste you.” rhett had you pinned up against the door to your bedroom now and tweaked at your nipple behind your shirt which caused a wanton moan to slip from your lips.

“c’ ere, lay down with me and help me out. i’ve got a lot left over.” you pushed yourself off the door and guided rhett to the bed. he let out a quiet groan at your words and the sight of you slipping off your shirt, your nipples leaking.

you gasped when you felt rhett attach his chilled lips to your nipple and sucked you down greedily. it was as if he’d never eaten before in his life.

you automatically took on the mother role and smoothed your hand through his tousled locks of hair and petted at his head. “shh, easy there cowboy. go gently and slowly.”

rhett groaned louder at your sweet praises, but it was muffled by his mouth pressed up hungrily against your soft and tender flesh.

he nurses you better than your own god damn child, practically sucking and feeding you dry. you could feel rhett grinding his crotch against your thigh and you can feel his cock harden under his jeans with every stroke.

“need you.” you whisper breathlessly and tug on rhett’s hair to signal your own arousal.

you’re both quick to remove your clothes and have your legs thrown over rhett’s broad shoulders and feel his cock sinking into you with no time to waste. his mouth is only off you for mere seconds before he cranes over you to attach his mouth to your nipple again.

your heightened arousal produces more milk in the process and rhett is messy with his tongue to lap up every drip that falls from your sore and sensitive nipples.

nice!! :) thank you so, so much for this incredible thot my dear anon!! i could kiss your brain, mwah!! 💌💖

(@bradshawsbitch this is for you!! 💖)

[meowmeowriley]

Hi MeowMeow Costume anon here sorry it’s taken a couple days for me to reply life got busy finding one’s honour is harder then I thought!

You want my autistic head canons for Zuko? Strap in for some unhinged rambling because I have ✨thoughts✨ this will be long

(CW: implied child abuse (Fuck Ozai))

Zuko likes music (Iroh mentiones he’s talented with the Tsungi horn) and his swords I also think he would have picked up dancing at some point with how he moved during dance of the dragons.

When he’s around people he trusts he emotes more with his face and masks less in general and I’d say if he felt safe enough he’d do more overt (for him) stimms like humming, minor rocking or tugging on his hair Iroh would be one of his safe people and eventually the gaang would be too

*I don’t think he’d have very obvious stimms in general being raised royal he’d be expected to act a certain way and hand flaps are not it. Also flaming 💩lord Ozai would have seen any aberrations as weakness and stamped that shit out fast

*I honestly think it could be one of the reasons the flaming 💩lord despises Zuko being inherently different would be a weakness in his eyes and reflect badly on him

I think he and May get along well because they’re both autistic and are a safe space for each other. she has trouble processing her emotions he has trouble controlling his they make good emotional counter balances

He cares so much about the people and animals around him even his enemies a strong sense of justice is a common sign of autism and speaking out of turn was the initial reason for his banishment.

He’s so socially awkward he doesn’t know how to talk with people instead of at them his entire pep talk to himself and subsequent introduction to the gaang when he tries to join them is peak “how do you do fellow kids” and his “that’s rough buddy” is as iconic as it is socially inept.

The guy totally hyper fixated on hunting the Avatar and when he could no longer find his purpose in it and realised he was wrong he did not cope

He has no tackt. none. and he takes things at face value and he hates lying his humour is also a little left leaning and he tries to relate to others and their experiences as a way of bonding.

While he’s not a prodigy fire bender like his sister he found ways around his limitations that helped accentuate his natural talents like his sword fighting (dancing would help with sword work) being incorporated into his bending (I don’t remember any other character bending with weapons).

He’d know a lot about tea from Iroh and I think he enjoyed working in the tea shop

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk!

I hope these make sense it’s kinda late now but this was fun to write thanks for reading my insane rambles :D

Also in response to the (non gendered) Prince! line you gave me so much surprise gender euphoria I cried 😭🫠🥹 sincerely thank you. I’m going with he/him pronouns atm but he/they is something I want to look into.

if you don’t mind me asking what are your pronouns?

I’ll probably send another ask in the next couple of days to annoy you with lol but in the meantime have a great day!

Sorry I took so long to get back to this, but damn I needed it today so I guess it's good I kept this in reserve. ❤

Holy shit, I can't unsee Zuko as autistic now. Like it's impossible. He's so perfectly coded to be on the spectrum. He's generally monotone, until he's not, and that's always when he's dealing with big emotions. He'd be a lip biter for sure.

Zuko doing dance as a stim 😍 the first time the Gaang sees him dancing when he thinks he's alone, they'd be so supportive, and have no idea what that would mean to him.

Fire lord Zuko infodumping about tea to some random person who tried to ask if he'd like them to make him some, as he heats the tea himself with his bending, and damn if that isn't the best tea that servant has ever had in their life.

Until next time my non gendered Prince Zuko! (Which will be in like, a few minutes, when I get to your other ask. Again sorry for the wait 😭 I'm bad at this)

[y0ur-loca1-lyr3]

Hi! I’m autistic and a lesbian and my current hyper fixation/ comfort show is Hazbin Hotel and my favorite/comfort character is Angel Dust. I was wondering if you could write a platonic Angel x gn/fem reader that is angsty and involves the reader comforting and taking care of Angel after a really bad night with Valentino. With cuddling, and handholding and Angel dealing with addiction/ self harm and the reader just being there and supporting him or something. I totally understand if not I just thought I would ask. Also I’m a huge fan of your work!!

A/N; hey! Thanks for the request, I haven’t had the chance to write a platonic relationship between two characters, let alone angst to I was really excited to write this! I hope you like this, anon, and I’m glad you’ve liked what I’ve written so far <3

The mystery

Pairing; Angeldust x gn!reader (platonic)

Warnings; abuse, self-harm, self hate. Seriously if your sensitive to any of these, don’t read this.

Angeldust fucked up.

He didn’t mean to, really, but he did, and when he fucked up he really fucked up. Valentino put too much pressure on him, it was all too much. Day, by day, by day, oh god it was torture. He couldn’t take it anymore, so when Valentino said Angeldust had to work even more after doing twenty shoots, he blew up in Val’s face.

-

“Do you really think you have the right to say no?” Val seethed, tossing him like a ragdoll against the wall.

“Val, I swear to god I didn’t meant it, I wasn’t thinking, please-“ Angeldust pleaded, tears pricking his eyes with eyeliner running down his face, a strangled cry as his back crashed into the wall.

“I own you. You don’t have freedom. You follow what I say like scripture, and you do that gratefully.” Val growled tossing Angeldust to the ground and watching him scamper up against the door with a fearful whimper, even really moving paining his back at the moment, “now get back on set before I change my mind about letting you even leave this place.”

Angeldust got up with a reluctant nod, wiping the tears on her face. Another moment of hesitation and he’d be there the whole rest of the day, and by god he’d hate that

“Yes…Valentino.”

-

Angeldust slammed the door of his hotel room, throwing the nearest thing he could find to the wall as he cried. He tucked his knees up to his chest, and just cried for hours. The makeup that he wore washed up completely from his own tears. He didn’t want to go back, hell, if he had the chance he’d never go back. But he already made the deal. His soul want his anymore.

He looked at the drawer that kept the razor he dreaded yet felt comforted by. Damnit, he promised his friend he’d kick that habit.

But one little cut couldn’t possibly hurt, right?

One cut turned to two, two turned to four, four turned to ten, and so on

He could feel the pain of the day leaking out through the cuts, it felt so good, it felt so…

Comforting.

Addicting.

Then he heard the knock he knew oh, so well. It was them. Oh, god it was them. What if they saw him like this and was disgusted? Even he felt disgusted by himself, they’d be bound to be disgusted.

It was too late though, they were in his room, staring at his arms, as he stares back at them. Damnit he must’ve left the door unlocked on accident.

“I heard something break. You wanna talk about it?” They asked, shuffling through their bag to pull out a first aid kit. They’d helped with Angel’s self harm habits, many times, and each time they were so…empathetic, so understanding.

There was no way someone could be so caring, especially someone like him, right? They’re probably just here because of pity.

“No, I don’t wanna talk about it! I want you out of my damn room!” Angel barked, pointing to the door of his room. Sure, there were tears pricking at his eyes, but it was better to push them away now rather than when he got too attached.

“Alright.” They said with a smile, putting the first aid kit on Angel’s vanity, “I won’t pry if you don’t want me too, but just please make sure to clean your scars ok? I don’t want them to get infected.” They asked. They didn’t fully expect Angel to do so, but maybe if they asked he’d at least consider it

Before they could leave though, Angel grabbed they’re hand, his eyes like wells about to overflow, “Wait.” Angel said, the word falling loose from his mouth, “don’t…don’t go.”

They nodded, while still smiling. How they were so understanding was a mystery, but a welcome mystery for sure.

And they were the mystery that held them as he cried, and cried. They were the mystery that gently grasped his hand, and muttered comforting praises to him. They were the mystery that lulled him into sweet, blissful sleep, the mystery that let him escape from the world in a way he felt better about.

They weren’t a mystery,

They were a friend.