#failed miserably and obsessed over it instead

[haru-natsuka]

Second Male Leads Are all Yanderes but I Won't Rest Until I Win My Love Back (Female Reader x OCs)

CHAPTER 8

Story will start after the synopsis

Every second male lead who appeared in this world had a hidden yandere side that can emerge at any moment and turn them into a twisted and obsessive villain.

As someone with a severe case of the "second male lead syndrome", you are determined to pursue your love for the second male lead, leaving the original male lead to become the second.

While you were busy chasing after the second male lead, the original male lead kept on bothering you and trying to get you to choose him instead.

"Don't you dare to come any closer!" You snap at the original male lead, your tone sharp and firm.

"Oh, and who's going to stop me? You?" The yandere stares at you, a menacing look in their eyes, as their body slowly moves closer.

"Too close! Step back!"

"Your words mean nothing to me. You can't control me. I will come as close as I please, you can't stop me."

As if a yandere was not enough, when you chose to ignore the original male lead, another second male lead suddenly entered your life, further complicating the situation.

The yandere and the upcoming second male lead both seem determined to have you for themselves, and they were both very possessive and pushy in their approaches to you.

You just wanted to be happy with your true love. Yandere or not, you would stick with your crush!

CHAPTER 1 << CHAPTER 2 << CHAPTER 3 << CHAPTER 4 << CHAPTER 5 << CHAPTER 6 << CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8: MY LOVE

Cyrus's words echoed through your mind, leaving you reeling. Frustration and annoyance surged through you at his nonchalant attitude.

'This guy! This worthless dumb guy!'

"Is your love so devoid of depth?" you retorted, your voice cutting through the air like a sharp edge.

"Do you think someone you loved can just be replaced so easily? The feelings can be discarded like yesterday's trash? Is your love that shallow?" Your anger and hurt boiled over as you continue.

"Do you think love is as frivolous as choosing a new outfit?" you continued, your words laced with sarcasm. "That I can just toss away all the time I've spent with Adrian and jump into your arms just like that?"

'Even if the world comes to an end, my end would only be my sweetest man'

"What?" Cyrus's expression morphed into baffled surprise at your response, having not anticipated the depth of your lecture on love.

"I'm not sure what led you to break up with Liesel," you continued, your tone sharp, "or even if your previous relationship ended in a bitter dispute. But it's rather comical how much effort you invest in finding another girl to fill Liesel's place. You should know that no one can truly replace her—she is her own, unique person. And the reason behind your failed relationship is one that lies firmly within yourself."

With a final scoff, you added bitterly. "You can keep looking for someone like her, but you'll only end up alone and miserable."

Cyrus's face fell, his usual smirk replaced with a hint of vulnerability as he took in your words.

"Alone and miserable, huh?" he echoed softly, his gaze dropping to the ground. He remained silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of your truthful remark. When he spoke again, his voice had lost some of its usual cockiness, replaced by a trace of uncertainty.

"Maybe you're right," he said, his tone lacking the usual confident edge. "Maybe I am just chasing a fantasy, trying to replace Liesel with someone else."

Cyrus's demeanor transformed, his gaze hardening as he closed the distance between you. His expression was serious as he spoke.

"But I am not simply searching for a replica of Liesel," he clarified. "I want someone better."

His eyes locked on yours as he continued, his voice firm and the confidence slowly slipped in again. "I've noticed you at the academy. The devotion and loyalty you exhibit towards Adrian. I don't have overly high standards. I want someone dedicated to me, someone with their undivided attention on me, someone like you."

'WHAT THE-'

You unleashed your anger, stomping forcefully on his foot with the heel of your shoe. You choose to never lying of your feelings as this man would misinterpret it as he pleased.

"I detest you," you retorted, your voice filled with frustration, "so shut up."

Cyrus winced slightly from the pain but did not back down.

"Hate is merely the opposite of love. I am capable of protecting you. You can count on me. I'm an accomplished knight, part of the royal guard, and I am stronger than Adrian. Trust me."

'OH MY GOD! Why it's so hard to make this guy understand!'

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself despite your anger.

"Your strength is certainly impressive," you acknowledged grudgingly, "but it takes more than physical prowess to be a reliable partner."

Your gaze remained fixed on Cyrus as you added, "Trust and loyalty aren't things you can simply demand or force. They are earned through actions and time. And Adrian give me more reason to trust him."

"Trust and loyalty are indeed earned, not demanded. Adrian has given you more reason to trust him, huh? But what has he done to deserve such unwavering faith, hm?"

Your frustration continued to bubble up as Cyrus challenged your trust in Adrian.

"Trust and loyalty are exactly that," you agreed, your voice firm. "They are earned by consistent actions over time."

You met his gaze head-on as you responded, "And yes, Adrian has given me ample reason to trust him, reason enough that I don't need to justify it to you. But let me ask you this. What have you done to deserve such blind trust from me?"

"All I can say is that you haven't been a good friend to Adrian," you snapped back, unable to hold your tongue. "You knew damn well how much he adored Liesel, yet you had the audacity to confess your feelings right in front of him. Did you even try to comfort him when his heart was shattered? No, instead of being there for him, you both just ditched him like discarded leftovers."

Cyrus's eyes widened, caught off guard by your sharp words.

"Not even a good friend, huh?" he muttered, his tone defensive. "I might not have been the ideal support for Adrian during his heartbreak, but I had my own feelings to consider."

He attempted to justify his actions, "I couldn't help confessing my love for Liesel. It was eating away at me. And leaving Adrian? We both had our own reasons. We didn't leave him like some discardable food. It was a complex situation."

"COMPLEX SITUATION?!!! HOW DARE YOU SELFISH BRAT!-"

Your frustration rose to a new peak as Cyrus covered your mouth mid-sentence. His habit of touching you without permission was irritating beyond belief. Enraged, you managed to get a hold on his hair, tugging aggressively as you also you bite strongly on his palm, causing him to grunt in pain and agony.

"There!" You snapped, a hint of satisfaction in your voice. "How does a bald patch sound?"

Near you, there was sound of rustling and crashing foliage alerted you to an unexpected development. It seemed that your struggle with Cyrus had attracted a nearby wild boar's attention, and it was now charging towards you both with its short and fast tiny feet.

"That's what I want to tell you" Cyrus turned his attention swiftly towards the wild boar, his instincts on high alert. He clutched his head, rubbing the spot where you had grabbed his hair, while also trying to keep a wary eye on the approaching danger.

"You are a knight, do something with that sword!"

"Right," he muttered, drawing his sword from its sheath. With practiced ease, Cyrus positioned himself to confront the approaching boar, wielding his blade with practiced precision.

The wild boar was closing in rapidly, its fierce eyes fixed on you both. Cyrus positioned himself in front of you, preparing to confront the charging animal.

"Stay behind me," he instructed, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the charging animal. "I'll handle this. At the end you still require someone strong"

As Cyrus stood valiantly, sword in hand, preparing to face the charging boar, you seized the moment. There was no reason for you to stay with him. You also had successfully collected all the flowers you need for Adrian. He was so focused on being the hero that he did not notice your sudden departure.

Taking advantage of his distraction, you swiftly turned and dashed away towards your house, leaving Cyrus to face the wild boar on his own. You did not look back, your mind set on putting distance between yourself and the obnoxious knight that you had no care what would happened to him.

'Oh wild boar, I hope you are satisfied with your breakfast. I will make sure no one would find out'

As you raced towards your house, you noticed Adrian tending to the fields as usual, his figure familiar and comforting. The sight of him brought a pang of mixed emotions – relief and reassurance.

You quickened your pace, your heart pounding in your chest. The events with Cyrus had left you both physically and emotionally shaken, and all you longed for now was the comfort of Adrian's presence and his soothing voice.

"Adrian!"

Tag list:

@d3sperate-enuf @sirenetheblogger @orinnie @aoiyx @chin-chii

@elsoleil @iamapotatoe @yzuposts @black-butterfly-2405

@beeskn3es @ivorette @type-ink @lol-leo @rafayelslittleconchshell

[ruinme-please]

love for the first mask ❤︎

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Platonic Yandere Jason w/ Batsis darling

A/N: This is supposed to be post death and all that.. Like he's just trying to integrate back into his family and society but it's been hell. His batsis is the one thing that is actually helping him through it thus becoming over attached. He's obsessed with being normal again..for you. (Any Jason Todd)

Warnings: Rather soft yandere actually. but i guess obsession and possessive tendencies.

Requests: always open. please read pinned post which is the masterlist

Masterlist

Yandere Jason Todd who finds an immeasurable amount of comfort and stability in his Batsis. He doesn't particularly understands or even knows why he does but he does.

He still feels awkward and out of place with the rest of batfam. He feels anxious, judged and annoyed around them. It overwhelms him and stresses him to the point of mental breaks. But you ground him. You don't make sudden movements or loud sounds. You don't ask invasive questions or bring up past memories. You're gentle and mindful of him.

The others try bonding but they never fail to eventually overstep boundaries and cause more wounds. He's appreciative of you.

Yandere Jason who cannot help but get possessive over you. He hates when his other siblings command your attention over his. It boils him. I like to think he's constantly comparing himself to them. How normal and fun they are in contrast. He wants to be just like them and do fun things again...but he just cant...not yet. He especially despises Dick and just how pretty and perfect his older brother is. This often causes fights between the two. You and him have tons of inside jokes, secret handshakes and hangouts often. Jay wants that too.

Jason is fearful of going in public with you. He's been craving that local diner spot and love to treat you as a thank you but he doesn't want the stares. He's riddled with scars and looms over everything. He really don’t want his sis to be ridiculed and questioned on his behalf.

Jay tries his best to keep you locked in the house with him. He tries pulling you away from them as much as possible but he feels guilty. This is a miserable life and he doesn't want that was misery on you too, but he just cannot bear you being with them instead. Sometimes he'll offer to sneak out late at night and hang on rooftops with you, but he knows it's nothing compared to the arcades and parties you're missing out on.

He does try very hard to come out of his shell on your birthdays or times like Christmas ect.. He wants to be a good brother and give back how kind you've been towards him. Whatever will make you happy, he'll power through it.

Yandere Redhood who goes after the people that make you cry or feel unsafe. He knows what he promised Bruce but it's to keep is sibling safe. Bruce would understand if he went through even half of the traumatic experiences he did. You have to cut off potential threats at the roots. That's how you prevent lunatics like the joker and to keep souls like you pure.

Yandere Jason Todd who is adorably obsessed with your room. He hasn't done much decorating to his. It's boring and bland, he doesn't remember much of what he liked as a kid before everything happened. But yours is covered in personality. Books, figures, plushies and tons of posters...it's cute. He likes it a lot. Sometimes he just sits in there, even when you're not home because it makes him feel nostalgic? In a good way, it gives him a warm glimpse into what his life could've been as a teen/young adult. Plus it's filled with all the things you love which by default he loves it too. I like to think he steals trinkets from your room that you love the most when he's anxious.

Like you've come home before to him in the corner of his room with one of your big plushies in his arms during an episode. It smells like you it grounds him back into reality. Whatever he's seeing in his head isn't real, but you are. You signify safety.

Yandere Jason who mimics anything you do to learn how to act normal. He doesn't mean to but he spends so much time either with you or lurking near by. Your food options are a major thing is copies. He's often overwhelmed by the many choices in store so when he's hungry, he'll just pick up anything he's remembered you eating. Even if he didn’t like it much.

He doesn't realizes these habits are a bit strange. enviably, one of the other siblings poke fun at him for how his face scrunches up at the taste of your favorite snack. They laughed how he should just get things he likes instead of trying to copy you all the time. They weren't trying to be cruel, just playing like siblings do but it made his world crumble. Was that really strange? Jason didn't mean to make you feel weird. Did you feel weirded out by it, have you been telling the other siblings how bothered you were by his antics?

"Jason, its okay. It's seriously not a big deal, it's slightly odd but i don't mind." You tried reassuring him but it just confirmed his thoughts.

You did think it was weird. That he was weird. You laugh about him behind his back all the time, don’t you?

He knows he's a bit off the drum. He knows he's an embarrassment but a deluded part of him thought maybe the difference wasn't as big as he made it out to be. It was just paranoia. guess..not. He's shattered. His one safe space wasn't real. He wasn’t good enough like the others….yet.

Yandere Jason has to become like a normal brother for you. He needs to be like Dick and Tim. He needs you to think he's cool and fun to be around. He needs to be a good brother...one you're not weirded out by.

[puckinghischier]

Jealous Nico

i struggle with this one bc can he get jealous? yes, extremely so. does he often? i wanna say no.

i feel like he’s just so trusting and obsessed with you that the thought doesn’t even cross his mind half the time, because you never pay people any mind. he knows he holds your attention, so why would he ever get jealous?

but sometimes…just sometimes, when you’ve had one too many drinks and your attention starts flitting around the room, looking for anyone who will entertain you to have a conversation with? he wants to scream “i’m right here!!!” at you. but he doesn’t want to be that guy, so he just lets you wander and mingle. never too far, though.

and as much as we wants to, the feeling that settles in his stomach when he sees you laughing with some finance bro over at the bar when you’re getting a refill is something he can’t really ignore.

maybe it’s the way you’re giving him so much excitement, clearly passionate about whatever topic is pouring from your lips. or maybe it’s the way this douche is looking at you, like you’re the brightest light in the room and he’s a moth that can’t escape your glow. whatever it is, it has him walking away from his conversation mid sentence, warm eyes turned dark in dislike of what he was witnessing.

as he makes his way through the crowd towards you, he realizes he can’t even be mad at you, because you’re just being the social butterfly he knows you are. all you want to do is converse and enjoy all the liveliness in the building, you’re not purposefully ignoring him. you were actually trying to talk to him a few minutes ago, but he was trying to listen to what jesper was saying before he got lost in whatever topic you deemed so important. so really, he thinks to himself, this is his fault, and he shouldn’t even be jealous in the first place.

but when you start jumping up and down slightly, clearly excited with whatever response you were just given, and douchebag’s eyes go straight to your chest instead of your ear to ear grin and bright eyes, he realizes yeah…maybe he can be jealous and a little bit of an asshole right now.

“müsli? did you ever get your drink, sweet girl?” he tries the sweet approach, not wanting to be overly gruff in front of you.

his chest puffs out at the way all of your attention is focused on him the second you hear his voice, forgetting all about the stranger in front of you.

“nico! hi! i feel like i haven’t seen you in….in….like…thirty minutes ago!” your words make no sense, a small hiccup making you giggle out an “excuse me” as you turn towards him.

he smiles down at you, your glossy eyes focused on his own, just how it should be.

“oh! frank, this is nico!” you turn back around to the stranger, his gaze raking down your figure, making nico see red all over again. you lean in closer to the man, cupping your hands around your mouth to try and whisper, but failing miserably. “he’s my boyfriend!” you giggle out, acting like a school girl talking about her crush.

turning back to nico, you miss the hard gaze he was throwing your new friend. “nico, frank and i were just talking about how fun it would be if there was a slip’n’slide in here!”

nico’s demeanor involuntarily softens a bit at your enthusiasm over the random topic, amused at how excited you are over the thought of a slip’n’slide in the middle of winter in new jersey.

but when he looks back up at your new friend frank, he can practically see the thoughts running through his head, and why he’s also be enthusiastic about the idea. if it wasn’t him ogling your tits earlier, it was the way he was checking your ass out while nico is standing right there.

“oh yeah?” nico speaks to you but keeps his attention on the man too lost looking at your ass to realize he’s being summoned into the conversation.

“yeah! tell him, frank! tell him what you said about making sure i’d be able to take as many turns as i wanted! that no one else would be allowed on it, because it would be my own special slip’n’slide!”

it’s endearing, really, the ideas you get in that smart head of yours when you’ve been slamming vodka crans all night. nico always loves to find out what theories and plans you come up with everytime you two have nights out. he’s thought about writing them down a time or two, because you never believe him when he tells you about the the next day, always claiming you “would literally never say that,” because you’re “a college educated woman, thank you very much.”

but this one? the one that has frank all but salivating at the thought of seeing you repeatedly have a wet t-shirt contest of one on a theoretical slip’n’slide? this one is just pissing him off.

“hmm?” frank’s attention is finally snapped away from your body and back to the conversation at hand.

“she was just saying how you told her how wonderful her own, special slip’n’slide would be, considering you wouldn’t let anyone else on it,” nico answers, letting his voice lower.

“oh yeah, dude. wouldn’t that be the hottest thing ever?” frank, so stupidly, decided to respond.

nico’s dry chuckle is the only response frank got. and either frank was smarter than nico gave him credit for, or he looks a lot more menacing than he thought, because the sound wiped the smug, disgusting smile right off of his face.

“frank…buddy….just walk away, yeah?” nico suggests, not used to being the scary boyfriend type but hoping it does the trick.

and much to his surprise, it works, frank nodding and walking the other direction, but not before you call out a sweet “bye, frank! it was nice to meet you!”

grabbing your hand, nico leans down to suggest it’s time for the two of you to leave, because he’s “tired of sharing you with everyone tonight, schatz. need my daily dose of hiding you away so i can get all of your attention,” while nipping playfully at your ear.

and, get all of your attention he does, considering you don’t stop talking to him from the time he gets you in the car to drive you home to the time he gets you settled in bed, behind closed doors, soaking up every second of not having to share your sweet voice. he drank it in like you were his own personal oasis in a dry and vast desert, just how he liked it.

[cthulhus-curse]

Hopeless

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,077

Warnings: Dark!Milf!Natasha Romanoff, Mommy Kink, Dub-Con, Drugging, Minor Character Death, Graphic Descriptions of Gore, Kidnapping, Bondage, Ball Gags, Knife Play, Blood Play, Praise, Obsessive Behavior, Jealousy, Stalking, Murder, Scissoring, Fingering, Cunnilingus | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: Natasha takes her time watching, humming, and preying upon her unwilling pet until at one point she snaps. Taking you away is what she sees fit.

Each day without fail viridescent eyes stared at you from across the street. Covered windows were no match for the hard gaze thrown your way, watching every move and breath you took. They were obsessed — pupils addicted, dilating whenever you dared step from the confines of your home into the world. With a hitched breath, she had to hold onto any nearby surface for support. The unknowing effect you had on your neighbor was catastrophic.

Never would she shake the feeling of love when it came to you. Regardless of how little you’d talked — slight exchanges of words in the morning, the time she took to rummage through her mailbox precisely scheduled to greet you. During each smidge of a second she spent with eyes fluttering across the street, she grew intoxicated, drunk in the liquor that was your existence.

For the most part she was able to keep her urges hidden away in the closet carrying a suitcase with all the pictures, toys, and items she had of yours. The obsessing unconsciously grew exponentially ever since you had moved into the neighborhood less than a year ago. Many times she found herself sprawled over the bed, her hand between her legs with slender digits shoved far inside her sex. With her children in school and her breadwinner wife off at work, the house was hers to haunt.

Weeks passed by and never did she break the incorrigible distance between the two of you. It was an unspoken deal — you were watched from afar and, in her belief, you tease her in return with your pretend innocence. For the images she had of you, there was no denying you wanted her. It was what she told herself each night she giddily went to sleep with a smile plastered on her features, eyes closed with her wife’s arms wrapped around her slim body — the image that it was you instead of the brunette woman got her through a peaceful slumber.

With a secrecy intact, she was content.

Until she wasn’t.

Due to the tending of the children, she was left to pick up after them right as they had left on the bus to school. Crumbs left on the table, food across the floor, she sighed. The small elementary school children were nothing if not messy, but she loved them dearly. They were one of the few things she adored in the boring dull life she carried.

Normally she was to grab the mail around the time the children left, but as she peeked through the front door, her body clothed with a pair of tight yoga pants and a sports bra, her eyes widened.

There stood her wife, who had taken a day off, laughing off across the street. She had gone out on a run long before, kissing the kid’s heads as she dropped off a goodbye. Rather than spend her time at home, the brunette had a hand on your upper arm, getting far too close to the one thing that caused her wife any happiness within her miserable life. The more the two of you interacted, the mightier the anger beneath the small woman grew. Her wife who whispered hotly in your ear, pushing her body uncomfortably close to your own, would not take away her property.

That was something Natasha refused to let slide.

It was a split-second decision fueled by fury, betrayal, and impulsively. From her younger years Natasha still had her favored stash beside your own. She struggled to keep her thoughts normalized, remembering with a foggy mind what the therapist had told her at the hospital all those years ago. Eyes closed, deep breaths, happy thoughts, but all that came to mind as she snooped through the closet was how far she’d have to lodge her knife inside her wife’s chest in order to bring her the most pain.

With her experience, it did not take long to have a body slumped over the entrance of the house when Maria arrived. The first had been at the ripe age of thirteen — a pair of girls, those who made fun of her, followed her home late on a school day. Back then she was easily prone to letting her anger slip away, which led to the disappearance of her fellow students. The acting she had put on at the police station for weeks was Academy Award worthy.

Years after that she allowed herself to grow, to obsess over others and take care of anything that sat in her way. For her violent outbursts she’d been sent to the hospital on two occasions, but never spoke a peep about that ledge of hers that oozed blood. It was her own little secret each time she snuck out from her dormitory in college to bury yet another bag of meat. Although such urges had ceased when becoming wed to Maria, the one who she once believed to be her true love, slipped through the cracks of her shell of a body upon your arrival in town.

Natasha allowed herself to enjoy the sight beneath her. The woman who she once loved lay battered on the hardwood floor, her ocean eyes lifeless as her skin took a pale hue. It was only accented by the various macabre gashes on her chest and stomach — 38 to be exact, one for each year Natasha had been on Earth. The pool of blood beneath the motionless cadaver was mesmerizing.

Bending down, Natasha reached out to brush a finger above the scarlet liquid, brushing away the masterpiece she had created. The bloody tip was plopped into her mouth, the woman groaning at the metallic yet wondrous taste of her favored treat.

“Not bad,” Natasha told herself, kicking her wife’s body mockingly while gripping the handle of her messy knife — she’d have to get a newly sharpened one if she wished to pay you a visit. “Sorry it came to this, baby, but I want a divorce. No one takes what’s mine. Guess you should’ve known better.”

Breathing in the scent of victory through her nostrils, Natasha relaxed. She always did feel alive and exhilarated when watching life blink away from a person’s frail body. Already she found herself excited for her next kill.

Looking out the window with her skin and clothes tainted with red, Natasha smirked manically. She eyed you through the glass, watching as you took your dog out to the front yard before returning back inside. The happy family she had always wanted would be started with you. All she had to do was rid herself of her ex-wife’s body before robbing herself a new toy.

“We’ll be together soon, detka,” she promised. The excitement she had was exuded all across the house. Long months of patient waiting would finally come to an end, and she had no one but Maria to thank. “I promise mommy will be there today. I’ll protect you from all the bad people.” She hummed when remembering to use the other special treat on you. “You’ll never be hurt by anyone but me again.”

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

With a wide smile, freshened up with a hint of a Channel No. 9 perfume after a much needed shower, and her confidence, Natasha strode to your door later in the day. She didn’t need to spend long there, although her hesitation came when she was met with a sight of you, she simply basked in your presence. The way you had appeared through the cracked open door made her swoon.

The expertise she carried got her to swiftly press her front against your back, a syringe’s needle tearing through your skin as she dumped the chemicals inside of you once invited into the house. Hugging you tight prevented your suddenly unconscious body from falling flat on the ground. Strong arms kept you up, dragging you away through the house until she reached the garage. Natasha didn’t imagine you’d mind if she dared take your car for a little ride.

She had to wait a few minutes after having dumped you in the car, knowing there was still someone else she had yet to take away. Natasha wouldn’t dare let her plan fall apart with silly mistakes.

Ropes were tied across your nude body, clothing torn off upon your arrival to the far away land she found solace in. Natasha took her time. She enjoyed every last second, the momentum building up as the drugs in your system washed away every so often. You’d wake up soon, but as a means to leave you all ready, she prepared your body for her to claim.

With such a large amount of free time in her life, being a rather quiet housewife stuck in the neck of suburbia, Natasha’s research had been intensive to make it all perfect for you. She had bought pink ropes which she carefully wrapped around your body. Each little knot made her grunt, breathing out harshly when getting your wrists tied to the headboard, your legs forcefully pried apart and unable to close no matter how much you fought – you’d be far too out of it to even move, but she place safety precautions all over as to never take chances.

Once the ropes were carefully placed on your body preventing an escape, Natasha went on to grab a special toy she had bought the previous week. The selection had been tough, but out of all the ones she found at the store, the woman settled for a heart ball gag, the collar of it a faux black leather tint as the heart dripped with a red hue.

Staring down at her handiwork, Natasha hummed. After countless months filled with insistent boredom, she’d finally get what she wanted.

“Wake up, princess. It’s time to open those beautiful eyes of yours,” she mumbled sweetly. Sitting at the edge of the bed, Natasha cupped your face, slapping it gently until she noticed you stirring. “Let me see you. You’re finally safe with me. Maria can’t hurt you anymore, detka.”

She had taken the liberty to remove her own outfit, the special reward she had hidden for you being far away in the basement. While her gaze dropped to your nude breasts, groping each of them perversely, biting her bottom lip to hold back a groan, your eyes fluttered open. You couldn’t place the walls that surrounded you, your vision gaining a smidge of clarity when noticing your neighbor sitting above you.

No matter how loud you tried to scream, all that came out were muffled noises of fear.

“I brought you to our lake house. Maria used to take me here every summer before we had the kids. I’m sorry we couldn’t do this elsewhere, but I couldn’t let them see you. They mean the world to me, just like Maria did, but baby you,” she shifted over the bed, a hand falling flat on your nude stomach leaving a dry bloody knife on top. “You are my world.”

Natasha tilted her head, eyes landing on the ropes that kept your legs pried apart and wrists attached to the headboard. Tugging at them, she hummed at how sturdy they were. Not the slightest movement could make the tight knots disappear.

“I’ve watched you for such a long time. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched by Maria, but it doesn’t matter anymore. She’s gone and you’re here. I’ve seen pictures of you, the ones I’ve taken I mean.” In her nude greatness, Natasha climbed over the mattress, positioning herself against you, her legs hooked with your own as your cunts ghosted over one another’s. “You have no idea how many times I’ve touched myself thinking of you. In the shower, late at night with Maria next to me…” Natasha’s dark eyes rolled to the back of her head. Groping her own tits, she let out a deep breath. “Oh Y/N!” Your name rolled off her tongue like honey. “Let me make you feel good. I want to watch you bleed under me. Oh I bet you’ve been thinking about this for so long. Your pussy is practically begging to be fucked. Don’t worry, darling, mommy’s here.”

Natasha breathed in your scent, mewling at how drenched you were. The fear in your eyes drove her mad, her own pussy oozing juices as she grazed it against yours. A hand grabbed the knife, wiping the blood against the sheets she’d forever treasure. Maria’s fluids meant nothing to her unlike your own.

There were sloppy attempts to move away, your eyes widened, tears trailing down your flushed cheeks leaving them wet with horror. All Natasha did at that was beam. She ghosted the dull part of the knife against your stomach. The tip was oh so close to you – so ready to tear at your skin and leave you a maimed mess. You couldn’t help but wish to bleed for her.

When you let out a particularly loud growl, still hearable with the gag on, Natasha was quick to lean down and press the blade against your neck harsh enough to leave a small red mark beneath. “Don’t make me hurt you, baby. Please, please don’t do it. I get really bad when I’m angry. Be a good girl for me and behave. I don’t want to do to you the same thing I did to Maria. Please.” She grinded her pussy against your own, moaning at the wetness she felt mixed with her own. “I don’t want you gone.”

Enchantment is all that soaked her body when urging her hips back and forth. Natasha allowed herself to bask on the arousal shooting through her, her clit garnering stimulation from your skin. To be filled up is what she wanted, your digits deep within claiming her as your own. She couldn’t bother untying you though, at least not until she broke you down and built you back up, molding you as her own relentless animal.

“That feels good, huh? You like mommy’s pussy, I can tell. Oh yours is so fucking wet, such a dirty baby,” Natasha giggled. She casually made little cuts along your chest. The knife was substituted by her lips, tongue sticking out to lick the small bouts of blood before she sucked you clean. Finally tasting your essence drove her mad, her brain rebooting as she found the words to speak. “So fucking good. Oh baby you taste divine. And look at how much you’re bleeding for mommy. I’m so happy you want me to have all of this. You’re truly special, my love.”

You didn’t do much by lying there, frozen in place while Natasha tore at your skin maniacally. Each cut forced a wave of heat to drift across your bones. They alternated from soft ones, merely scratches, to deep gashes that turned white before furious bouts of blood dropped out. Soon enough your chest, breasts she groped regardless of the wounds upon them, and stomach were covered in a fluid scarlet blanket.

Natasha was unable to keep up with all the blood, lapping at whatever she could while humping your cunt. Although you were unable to move, you still gave off slight thrusts, closing your eyes at the mix of pain and pleasure which overtook you. She didn’t dare stop for a second. All Natasha saw was red which she deliciously took in.

With a hand holding the dull part of the knife against you, the other drifted down between your bodies. The redhead alternated between stimulating your clit and her own, leaning back to better position herself to better fuck your pussy. Mesmerizingly, your blood drifted down her chin, hands coated with a similar fluid as she lost herself in you.

“Mommy’s close, baby, so fucking close. No one could ever make me feel like this. Only my pretty princess can play with mommy,” Natasha whimpered, her digits desperately flicking the bundle of nerves. The macabre nature of her actions was overtaken by her adorably scrunched up features. “And no one can ever touch my toy. You’ll never bleed for anyone the way you do for me. Just you and mommy against the world. Never forget that, Y/N.”

Natasha only took a moment to garner her breath when she came. Her back was arched, the excitement of the day fueling her need to let go. She nearly slumped down over your bloody body, but instead chuckled, staring down in awe with bloodshot green eyes that would forever haunt your dreams.

Knowing you were close to the edge, the older woman positioned herself between your legs. She licked her fingers clean from your blood before sliding them within your wet tight gaping hole. “My lovebug actually loves it when mommy hurts her,” Natasha noticed as she took in the warmth of your walls, digits pushing down your folds until she reached the depths of your cunt. “If I had known you’d be such a little minx, I would’ve taken you away sooner. I’m so happy that you want me back. Look at how well your pussy takes mommy,” she pointed out, mesmerized by the way your walls clamped down, juices springing from your cunt that sloshed with wet sounds at the slight movements. Leaning in, she lapped at your clit, swirling her tongue around and moaning as she tasted you. “Such a good girl. Oh we’re going to have so much fun together.”

Fingers didn’t stop fucking deep inside your sex until you came. Natasha was drugged within your juices, vigorously drinking them as though it was the Holy Chalice. When you did fall apart with an intense orgasm shooting through you, you were far too tied up to dare arch your back, settling instead for grunting against the gag as you fell apart. Your brain was far too gone with the mix of the drugs and your loss of blood to focus on the woman sitting at your feet.

With your own wife’s body stashed out, Maria herself back home with limbs cut and thrown in several trash bags, beaten to a pulp but still breathing, in the basement, Natasha was elated to train you. Perhaps you could use her favorite tool to take a life with your own hands. She knew it would be thrilling to watch, although the same could not be said for poor little Wanda who sat shivering naked against the concrete, her mind only upon you, relentlessly wishing for your safety.

[rizzanon]

childhood friend! Shinichiro Sano

part 1 | part 2 (here)

childhood friend! Shinichiro who matures quite significantly by the end of highschool, no longer asking out girls at school anymore much to your surprise

"Woah, look at you."

"Hm??"

"It's been months since you last asked out some random girl. What happened to the women obsessed Shinichiro I know?"

"Shut up, it was just a phase. Besides, you made me open my eyes in a way."

"How so?"

"I guess... I'm just waiting to ask the right person out now."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who invites you to witness the disbandment of the first generation of Black Dragons, despite you not being associated with his gang at all

"Why do you even want me to go? The people I know are only just going to be Takeomi, Waka and Benkei."

"Because I want you to be there. Is there any better reason other than that?"

"I suppose not..."

"And maybe it's also the fact that I need someone to watch over Manjiro haha..."

"I knew it."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who gets upset frustrated when you chose to ride with Takeomi instead of him on the day of the final gathering (he couldn't complain about it to you though, you made a fair point)

"Hey come on! Why are you going to ride with him? Takeomi's a worse rider than me y'know."

T- "Fuck off Shin. You don't worry about me stealing your girl from ya'."

"But you are a reckless rider-"

"Come on Shin, you can't expect me, you and Manjiro to be able to sit in one bike, can you? One of us is surely gonna fall off. I'll be fine with Take-chan, okay?"

"Fine..." (He was not fine with it)

childhood friend! Shinichiro who you make fun of when he comes over to you after the disbandment of the first generation of Black Dragons bawling his eyes out (you were prepared for this outcome)

"Glad to know you're still the same crybaby Shin I know."

M- "Haha! I'm gonna tell Emma you're such a crybaby."

"Cut it out you two! This—sniffs—is a special moment...!"

"You're lucky I brought tissues to wipe your tears away."

"I can't believe you know me that well."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who gets used to you coming over to the Sano household unnanounced whenever you pleased, not that anyone minded, since they all loved your presence

"Emma, be a dear and wake up Shin? Smack him if you have to."

E- "Okay!!"

"Woah, woah, there's no need to smack any—yawn—one. And why are you here?"

"Emma wanted me to teach her a new recipe to make for breakfast. So here I am!"

"And you decided to come over this early??"

"It's 7am Shin. Besides, don't act like you don't like seeing my pretty face the first thing in the morning~"

"Shut up." (Spoiler, he does)

childhood friend! Shinichiro whom you never grow apart from even after highschool, and you both started going on different paths, him opening up a motor bike shop while you started going to college and applied for a part time job as a cashier near the vicinity

"Wait, the shop you're working at is the one down the street, right? Just a few blocks away from my shop?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Great, looks like I can go say hi to you whenever I want."

"Don't you dare do something stupid to get me fired, Shin."

"No promises, ma'am."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who after miserably failing 5 times asks you for your help to bake a cake for Emma's birthday

"And what is this supposed to be?"

"Clearly, it's supposed to be Ariel, y'know, the princess mermaid??"

"That's your best attempt at making an ariel themed cake?? Now I know why you were begging for me to come over when you called me."

"I blame it on Manjiro for ruining the frosting."

M- "Hey! It was you who ruined it."

"So not true."

"I think the both of you should just shut up and help clean up this mess first."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who's gotten used to his siblings asking him where you were whenever you weren't seen with him and getting teased about it

E- "Neh, Shin-nii, where's [name]?"

"Probably stuck in another class, why do you ask?"

E- "I miss her."

M- "Idiot, we already saw her this morning."

E- "Hey! Don't act like you don't want her to come and play with us too!"

"Seriously you two, sometimes I wonder if I'm your older sibling at this point, with how much you ask for her."

M- "Shinchiro, we all know you love her as much as we do, maybe even more~"

"Shut your mouth Manjiro 💢"

childhood friend! Shinichiro who always shows up to your workplace when your shift is almost going to be over, always claiming that he was hungry and wanted to buy something, when in reality, he's there to send you home

"So..."

"And what the hell could you possibly want from this humble store, Shin?"

"Woah, woah! Can't a customer walk around the store to see what they want to get?"

"The last time you were here you knocked down a stack of cans on display, the manager almost reduced my paycheck because of that."

"In my defence, I didn't see the stack of cans."

"Suree you didn't."

"Hey, come on now! You know I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize your job.. on purpose at least...."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Now, would you be so kind to get me a pack of cigarettes, y'know, for a very dear friend of yours?"

"The only think you'll be getting from me is a pack of gum, rotten breath."

"Rude... now come on, when does this shift of yours end anyways? Let's get dinner on the way back."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who becomes your gossip and vent buddy whenever he sends you home after your shift, with him hanging onto every word you say, and hating on whoever you hate even if he doesn't know who the hell they are

"Argh, goddamnit, won't she just give me a break already?"

"Who? Wait—no, let me guess. Is it that girl from your econs class? What's her name again? Ka—Ka something..."

"Kazumi. Wow, didn't think you'd actually remember, well somewhat remember at least."

"With how much you complain about her, who wouldn't? But let me guess what she did to aggravate you this time."

"Go on. No guarantee that there'll be a prize for that though."

"She ditched a group project discussion again? Or she claims she's too busy to complete her part of the project when in reality she's going on parties and all that?"

"Mix of both actually, so congrats! No prize for you though."

"Aww. And here I thought you'll reward me for being a good friend."

"Argh, I should ask Takeomi or Benkei to intimidate her into actually taking this group project seriously or something..."

"Why ask them when you have your number one ride or die partner next to you to do so?"

"What'll you do? Intimidate her with the 20 rejections you've gotten? Pfft, she might even make that 20 become 21 before you intimidate her."

"I thought we swore to never talk about that ever again 💢"

childhood friend! Shinichiro who's grateful to you for bringing him his lunch to his shop whenever he leaves it at home and enjoys groans whenever you nag to him about the importance of not skipping any meals

"Guess some things will never change, huh?"

"Huh? Oh, is that my lunch?"

"No, no, it's my supper."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny [name]."

"I deserve more credit for making sure you don't skip your meals."

"Is that so? Would you like me to get on my knees and thank you? I can certainly do that."

"You and your cheesy lines... when will you learn to remember to bring your own lunch to work? You're pulling off the same shit you did back when we were in highschool."

"Maybe I just like your meals better than mine..."

"...??!... That... That still isn't an excuse for you to not bring along something to eat, dumbass. What would you do if I decide not to check in on you, hm?"

"Probably starve to dea-"

-smacks his head-

"Oww??? Alright, alright, sorry I guess, 'mom'. I won't purposely skip my meals ever again..."

"Good... next time, just... ask if you want me to cook extra for you."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who notes how you start to stand one arm's length away from him whenever you're with him, and when he asks you about it, becomes visibly distraught to hear you say he reeks of cigarette smoke

"Hey... why're you standing so far away from me? Don't tell me you came over to my shop just to see me work from a distance now.."

"You just stink, that's all."

"What??!? I definitely don't stink. I took a shower this morning, and I'm not covered in grease or anything..!!"

"It's that smokey smell that's always lingering around you. Y'know, because you like to smoke every now and then.."

"Huhh?!? What're you saying!!"

"Don't tell me you don't reek of cigarettes Shin. It's blatantly obvious, I can probably even smell you from a mile away like this."

"WHAT?!? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS EARLIER???"

"Because I didn't want you to make you self-conscious, stupid! Besides, it's not like I can force you to stop smoking or anything.."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who slowly stops smoking as much as he used to, especially around you so that you wouldn't be disturbed by his smell and stay close to him

"Huh?"

"What is it?"

"Eh... it's nothing important."

"Oh come on, you clearly have something to say. Cat got your tongue or something? Taken aback by my good looks?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say. You just... smell different, that's all."

"Is smell all you care about? What are you, a dog?"

"Fuck you."

"Yes please."

"Wha-?!?!"

"I'm joking." (He wasn't really)

"And I probably smell good because I put on this new cologne I got."

"Pfft, to mask off the fact that you're a smoke addict?"

"Hey! Might I inform you that I haven't picked up a cigarette for the past two weeks now."

"Really? Wow, I'm surprised. What made you stop?"

"You. Well, more precisely, you avoiding to get close to me because I stink."

"...?!?" (You were speechless and flustered)

childhood friend! Shinichiro who gets jealous upset when his friends flirt with you right in front of his face, not knowing that they're doing this to get him riled up enough and grow balls to finally confess to you

T: "Say, [name], you got a boyfriend or anything?"

"..?!?! Wha- Why're you asking her that-"

T: "What? Can't a man be curious? Besides, no boyfriend would be pleased if their girlfriend is hanging out with her 'guy' friend and his siblings 24/7."

"Very funny Take-chan. If that's your logic, then I believe you already have your answer."

B: "That's suprising. I was sure a pretty girl like you would have many guys chasing for you."

"...! I'm flattered, Keizo-kun. But I doubt that's the case, haha."

"Oi, you guys, stop bugging her like this..."

T: "Ya'know, I'm pretty sure most girls like strong guys, right? Shin's pretty weak to stay by your side."

"Oi-"

T: "But, he makes it up with his charm and caring side, so I guess you have it good [name]."

W: "Well, that's Shin-chan for ya, so you don't have to worry about him not treating you right, [name]. But if he doesn't, you cant count on us to beat him up for you."

"I.... wow, okay...?"

"?!? Oi, you guys!!? Now you're scaring me!!"

childhood friend! Shinichiro who confronts you one day, telling you all about how his friends and family keep on teasing him about how you and him should date and how he also really liked the idea of that

"Hahaha! Really? Manjiro did that?? I can't believe I missed that!"

"It's painful y'know! Can't believe he's only 12 years old and pulling off roundhouse kicks like that. And to my face too!"

"Well, what'd you do this time?"

"Wha-?!? I can't believe you're so quick to take his side. Both you and Emma."

"What can I say? Both him and Emma are my favourite Sanos after all."

"Gasp After all these years, you're choosing them over me?!? I'm disappointed, [name]. I thought you knew better 😔"

"Cry about it then."

"Mean..."

"But he must have a reason for doing that to you though, right?"

"I mean... it's kind of stupid, really."

"Oh? Do tell whatever the reason for the 'invincible Mikey' to roundhouse kick you. And for Emma to take his side on the matter."

"Ah... they're just mad that I apparently haven't made you my girlfriend yet."

"Huh??"

"I know, stupid, isn't it? They both have been bugging me about this for years now, claiming that they 'want you to be their actual sister'. What's worse is that gramps has the same sentiment as them too."

"Seriously? Sano-sensei as well?"

"Yup. He says he doesn't mind having you as his "granddaughter-in-law" and that you're the only person I ever truly listen to. Bullshit by the way."

"Is it it really though?"

"That's not the point. Hell, even the guys are teasing me for not making it official with you yet. Bugging me about it whenever we hangout, saying that if I don't act soon, they'll steal you away from me."

"I-.... wow... I guess that explains what happened the last time we hung out."

"Yeah, sorry if their words bothered you."

"No, no it's fine. But I'm just wondering... what do you think about all this?"

"Huh?"

"Like.... with everyone bugging you, and well me about this, what are your thoughts on us dating?"

"...?!?... I guess.... I don't mind that..."

"Really? I'm glad then."

"Huh? What do you mean."

"I guess I don't mind us dating as well."

".....Wait..., so are you saying I can be your boyfriend?!?! Really?!?"

"Yes! I'm saying you can be my boyfriend, and I can be your girlfriend, idiot."

"I'm actually so happy right now I could literally kiss you."

"Then do it, Shin. Who's gonna stop you?"

a/n: i love him so much oml, thinking about writing longer fics about some of these scenarios

m.list

[metranart]

His Mate, finally someone to call his…

ft. Hawks centered, Hawks x reader, Slight! Bakugo x reader, Slight! Dabi x reader.

Hawks x UA Student! Reader (Part 3)

-

Warning tag: obsessed! Hawks, possessive! Hawks, naive! student reader, violation of trust, dubious consent, mating cycles, rut response, obsessive behavior, uncontrollable thirst for reader, manipulation, forced, thigh riding, hormonal minds out of control, sexual content, first time, cock riding, teenage fuck, Dabi's toxically interested in you, Bakugo bestie yet secretly inlove wit you, love confessions, cock-drunk, Hawks trying to be good but failing miserably, gaslighting, HEAVY plot, lots of smut.

-

“Tell me,” Hawks’ voice sounded deeper, raspier almost feral, as it you were facing a darker self of the same man, and the next words that came out of his mouth made you realize how affected he was, for you have never EVER, had such a raw response.

 “...May I fuck you as your way of thanking me for saving you?”

“...W-what?” You stammered, shock dripping down your tone, an eyebrow raising almost comically. 

“Whaddya say, kid—” Hawks purred, closing the distance so much that you found yourself upholstered against the cold wall behind you, the broad chest of the winged hero pressed flush against you as your shaky hands latched onto his black, hero shirt. “You said you could handle me...”

Wrapping one of your hands in his, he guided it down so you could feel his hard rock cock through his pants, a hoarse moan accompanied his next words as the hero guided you to start to pump him. “I can't assure you that I'll be gentle....” the speed of his hand increased, letting you feel every ridge and swelled vein in his fat erection, “but I can assure that you will LOVE to give that tight, warm cunt to me.” 

The golden around his eyes was gone, completely eaten by the blown pupil, anxiety starting to take its toll on you, this was too much.... never in your life have you had such a reaction from anyone you healed... and suddenly Recovery girl's words echoed in your head again. The lack of control from your quirk can have adverse results on the wounded, especially on persons who have animal traits... don't use it at that level until you are one hundred percent sure you can master it... 

Hawks had animal traits, even his fucking hero name was one of an actual animals.... you screwed up, HARD.

“Hawks, S-sir, I...” You didn’t find it in you to move. Every single fiber of your being screamed to listen to his advice and run, but you couldn’t. 

The heat was suddenly too much when you could clearly feel his cock twitching on your palm, and lively snatching your hand, you pushed Hawks away with all your force, a wicked smile stretched his mouth, even so, scooted over so you could attempt to run to a secluded corner next to a dumpster, to catch your breath. 

His step faltered just a second before he felt compelled to trail behind, slumping beside you, unceremoniously. His head lolled, dipping to press another whisper of a kiss to your jaw, like he didn't care in the slightest, that you were trying to get away from him. 

A warm hand rested over your shoulder, and you felt yourself shiver. “Usually, I don’t fancy brats,” Hawks said, and without breaking a sweat, grinded you against the wall without contemplation, “But you are sooooo cute, I´ll make an exception.” 

“Hawks, Sir!” it was so weird to call Sir someone closer to your age than that of your cousin’s, yet, your voice seemed looped on it, “you are being influenced by my quirk...it is-it is based on energy that–” He didn't let you finish when you were being caged between his arms again, soft lips peppering your face with invasive kisses. 

“—I don’t care, brat, I warned you.” The hero spatted, and a tear threatened to peek at the corner of your eye, yet you inhaled sharply and instead set your mind in hero mode, you weren’t some damsel in distress, you were a hero in training… perhaps there was still a chance for you to complete the healing loop, and satiate Hawks enough for him to come back to his usual self, at least for a moment to be able to talk him out of fucking you raw. 

Slowly, you started to wiggle out of his arms, but then paused for a second to tilt your chin up, and press a tender kiss to his lips to which he responded eagerly, flushed and awfully anxious you tried not to get distracted from your task when he mmphs low in his throat and his hand snaked up to cradle your jaw, holding you there for just a bit longer than you originally planned.

You tried to low his libido down, but your resistance instead urged him to grind his hard rock erection against you, so ready for you to take care of it. And there was when you saw your way out, this was the chance you were looking for, the winged hero was already too lost in his hormonal brain, too affected by your quirk, too deep into his own instinctual behavior to listen to reason....so, you needed to plunge him out by force.... hard and fast, an explosion of pleasurable release.... you were going to have to make him cum, and preferably, without raping you in the process.

The first thing was to separate him a bit from you, but right now that seemed to be the most difficult... since the dirtiness of the things he whispered devilishly against your ear were paralyzing you...

“I´m gonna stuff you with my chicks, you are gonna look soooooo pretty all swelled and heavy...” he breathed into your mouth. His voice teasing, yet again, held undertones of something deeper, something similar to devotion.... almost too caring. This man groping you wasn't the hero persona you’d seen on the news; this was the man behind the mask asking you to bare his children and become utterly his. 

“I can barely wait to come home to my pretty little wifey, waiting for me—�� one of his hands dipped under the rim of your skirt, slowly worming his fingers to snatch your shirt up until the skin of your belly was exposed for him to place his big, calloused palm on top—reverently—as if you were meant to be his most prized person, “...round belly, full of my chicks and big, pretty smile on your face,” he kept daydreaming, “-SO ready for me to fill you again.”

Even using all your strength, you weren't able to move it off of you one inch, and worry spiked up when his advantageous palm keep traveling down your lower belly, dragging closer and closer under your panties—you knew what he was after, so you reduced to use a lamer approach. 

“Let me-let me do something first...” you pleaded, and thankfully it caught his sporadic attention, cocking his head to the side quizzically to then dive his face in the hollow of your neck, and breath the next words out. “Sorry, kid, I like to take the lead—”

“That´s okey!” you hurried, “it’s just- it's my... my first time... please, just let me—” you prayed for this to work, desperation really turning your voice into a pitiful sound.

Hawks thought about it for a moment, and grinning more to himself, gift you some space to do whatever you wanted to do –of course under his supervision– it would be embarrassing, and honestly, you didn't know if you would make it work but you had to try, because you refused to have a teenage pregnancy.

“Your show, kid.” Hawks spilled, sassy grin firmly on his face. 

Oh! How you wished he weren't looking so attentively.

“Could you close your eyes—”

“No.”

Well, that was fast, but expected. 

Arming yourself with courage, carefully fixed your disheveled shirt and to the best of your ability stood straight in steady legs, but then stopped for an entirely different reason. 

“Can you please.... —can you please unbuckle your pants?” The words rushed out of you, embarrassment eating you out, painfully. 

“Good girl.” He praised, nimbly unbuckling his belt, and without you having to ask, took himself out.  

Your orbs almost popped out of its sockets, you had seen a dick before but none this big, Hawks was massive, long and thick with a very pretty pink shade, and a dusting of blond hairs nesting on top. “As you can surely see, I’m pretty big, baby,” he cooed in a low rasp, “We better prepare you first, or it’s gonna hurt—like a lot,” you swallowed, thickly. 

And the moment you saw him smearing precum all over the head of his length, and dip two fingers inside his mouth to let his drool cover them to then lick his lips while wiggling the after mentioned digits at you—you didn't know what came over you. Perhaps you truly were possessed or just too determined, but you rushed towards him, and your hand reached between his thighs.

Hawks exhaled sharply leaning into your touch, letting his hot breath wash over your face and you felt him widen his stance to accommodate closer to you. Experimentally, you pumped him once and felt him brace an arm behind the small of your back, supporting himself on the solid wall as your fingers began to slip, treacherously slow, up and down his reddened cock.

He choked out a strangled sigh when you gripped him from the base and began to coil your hand to then cup his heavy balls. His head lolled once more, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, panting, bursts of hot breath fanning over your throat.

You felt your own breath quicken, felt yourself getting bolder, nevertheless, the uneasy feeling of being jacking off a total stranger in the open, never leaving your mind.

You meshed your other hand into his golden locks and pulled him closer, pressing your body flush against his. Hawks moaned, keening, his arm now firmly around your waist. You shushed him quietly, tightening the hold on his shaft while gaining speed and precision with each stroke. 

In this position, you looked as though you were only consoling a Hero who had a rough week, simply hugging in the dim light of the lonely alley. The shadows hiding you both, that feral Golden gaze reserved only for you. 

“—Is the pressure, Okey?” You sighed into his cheek.

“Please don’t stop...” Hawks whimpered. “God, don’t fucking stop—”

You didn’t, but it wasn’t enough, your touch felt naughtily good, but he was accustomed to experienced partners, even hand jobs needed certain speed and pressure to be fulfilling. The frustrating feeling of not getting what he wanted, edged him to wrap your hand with his and pump your fist faster- it wasn’t as tight, or warm or heavenly as your virgin cunt should feel- but it did scratch the itch, ever so slightly. 

Pressing his face flush against your neck, inhaling deeply. Your scent helped him get closer. He made you jerk him faster, harder. He needed more, more accurate, you, moaning and screaming for him to breed you—mate you. 

His Mate, finally someone to call his… that precious thought and your warm hand achieved the goal a little, just a few drops of pearly cum squeezed out, but enough to grant him a second of coherency. 

“I know what you—what you are trying to do.... kid,” His voice was deep, yet it wasn't the rut speaking, this was actually Hawks.

“Hawks...?” you called out. 

“In the flesh-...ngh!...” he attempted to joke but his voice cracked as he moaned, “This was—FUCK—it was very smart of you...” you could see the struggle in his features, it sounded like he was in pain, “—but I need more....much, much, muchMORE....” he smiled at you, apologetically, “-to be able to tame this fucking rut.”

He knew what he was asking, and even when hated to do it, knew as well that you would prefer that than carry his children and having him strapped to your hip for the next eighteen years, only letting you go once your offspring was able to be autonomous. 

“I-…I can´t…I´m sorry, Hawks—” you trailed, shame curling your lips down, at the knowledge that all of this was your own fault. 

“I know-... sweet girl, its fine...” He cooed, narrowed eyes locked in you cum stained fingers, “I understand… but I need you to understand as well—” 

His voice sounded more strained with each passing second, the winged hero could feel himself slipping away again, he didn’t want to ask, but sure as hell, would hate a lot more to end up taking you by force. 

“—I can’t control myself…” He confessed, “not when in rut and—” 

“I understand.” You muttered, quietly. 

“You do?” 

You nodded, unable to look him in the eye, yet you felt his hand when gently caressed your cheek once, before it latched on to your nape and yanked, hinting you. 

“Then please —please, don’t make me ask.” 

You wondered if he had ever had to beg someone before, of course not, he could have whoever he wanted. Quit stalling, your mind scolded and you felt the pull of his hand again, a little more demanding.

Taking your hand, like a true gentleman, help you to your knees. It was the least he could do, and shame reflected in his eyes when you looked up. Hard and heavy cock throbbing with need in front of your face, ready to be swallowed down. 

Your mouth quivered and before you could set your mind to engulf him, his knuckles gently traced your jawline tenderly, pampering the skin before dip a thumb into your mouth, smearing it with saliva and moistening your dry lips.

You looked as ready as you could be, for someone about to give a blowjob to the number two hero. 

COMING SOON PART 4....

⭕️ In my PATREON LINK you will find NSFW art of this chapter and more spicy MHA NSFW art and exclusive smut fanfiction.... Plus 'Tier reward' like: voting poll privilege for the exclusively Patreon one-shot stories where you can choose the couple pairing and kinky mood for the story and NSFW art, along with some naughty animation like THIS ONE ....and my eternal and vast gratitude for your support!!!

[redphlox]

Shouto's ruined character arc in the epilogue

Edit December 2024: my opinion about Shouto's ending has changed after 431 was publised when vol 42 came out on Dec 4, 2024. I'll have to rewrite this. But still, my stance that ending was riddled with toxic positivity and hollowness still hands

The epilogue’s toxicity-positivity message about smiling ruined Shouto’s characterization and undoes the growth and purpose of his arc because he’s not allowed to mourn the imminent death of his brother Touya.

Shouto partaking in these tone-deaf, festive activities with his friends in chapter 429 feels out of character, feels cheap and shallow, and is a slap in the face to his family. In the past Shouto declined school-related activities and prioritized spending time with his mom at the hospital. Now the narrative is trying to sell the idea that he would NOT spend every remaining minute alongside his family with his dying brother, who he has always wanted to know, the brother he practically begged to confront and said, "Our paths will cross whether you want them to or not" to. Shouto spent all this manga reconciling his feelings about his family and reconnecting to them to just... not be with them when they’re about to experience loss AGAIN? 

I'm not saying I want Shouto to be miserable, but realistically (since readers are so obsessed with realism in this superhero manga), he wouldn’t be wasting the limited time he has left with his brother by going to a farewell party, or any party. Damn, can the author let him mourn? Despite all the celebration the kids are doing, Shouto didn’t get a happy ending. While the rest of their community is rebuilding and making sense of what happened, the Todoroki family is still going through their crisis. It’s not over for them. At least let them cry.

This is a regression for Shouto’s character because the concept of allowing heroes to cry was first presented through Shouto, literally through his own words. The narrative then picks up this concept again during Ochako's speech at the UA shelter civilians, and then... Shouto isn't allowed to cry in the epilogue, and is forced to fake a smile so his friends don’t worry about him.

It’s not like Shouto has cried in this manga. He cried during the sports festival, during the Dabi reveal, and after Dabi escaped to Gunga to go after Endeavor because he knew this meant he had failed to reach his brother -- so no, it doesn’t make sense that he wouldn’t cry now. Instead, he's the one fake smiling, and only Ochako is allowed to be shown crying and being comforted. The double standard and retcon is astounding.

You can literally see the light not reaching his eyes in this panel from 425 when Deku asks if he’s okay. And yes, Shouto is prioritizing his family in this panel, but like I said, Touya doesn't have much time left... why waste it?

Shouto doesn’t want anyone to worry about him, so he’s putting on a brave face. And yet Deku and the other classmates reaching out to Ochako in 429 is selling the opposite message - don’t cry alone, let us be here for you, etc. Why isn’t Shouto granted the same support, especially from these classmates he claims are there for him?

If Horikoshi was aiming for a happy ending where people smile, then Touya’s grimdark, cruel, second and final death doesn't fit because Shouto has to mourn. You can't have both fake smiling and off-screen assumed mourning… it makes no sense for Shouto’s arc, or for the epilogue’s message about reaching out for help or to help. It doesn’t make sense in any context.

Shouto's characterization feels so off in this epilogue. He’s a shell of the person he was becoming. The story starts out by saying that this character is supposed to process the trauma of childhood and a dysfunctional family that he always wished was different, but now he has his found family in his classmates instead. And I'm not saying he can't have both - I'd say the support from his friends is imperative - but, it doesn't make sense that he has seemingly moved on because the fact is, his family situation was his entire start. 

It's not just Shouto that feels off, but his family too. Their once-considered-dead brother/son is alive, but now is dying in front of their eyes for real this time and they just… don’t try to spend as much time with him as possible? Even the sentiment that Shouto gave the family more time to talk falls empty because Touya can only endure a few minutes of conversation at a time, and it’s not like he’s slowly improving and that time will increase. It will only decrease. And yet, the family doesn’t seem too concerned or heartbroken that they’re witnessing someone they love die a second time, this time slowly. He can’t even communicate with them, and he’ll most likely have many things left unsaid when he dies.

The Todoroki family plot was set up to be about reconciliation, but they’re not reconnecting even with Touya’s upcoming death. This scene of Touya and the other siblings kicking a ball while Shoto looked on from the second story of the house begging his father to allow him to play with his siblings has been addressed like four times, and yet in the end he doesn’t get to spend happy moments with his siblings. His reward for his heroism is Touya’s slow march toward death and the knowledge that he has the same favorite food as the brother who his father neglected to death twice. 

Instead of being shown mourning or connecting, the family is acting cold and distant - only Natsuo is acting with a semblance of his normal self. I know some readers attribute the family’s aloofness to Japanese culture not being very affectionate or open with their emotions, but that doesn’t mean Japanese people are devoid of feelings. That’s so fucking racist. We’ve seen parents express love and concern for their children in this manga, and yet the Todoroki family continues to say “we’ll talk, we’ll talk” but we’ve never seen any follow-up. It’s ironic because Shouto’s whole mentality is “actions speak louder than words”.

For a family that became unstable because of misunderstandings about feeling loved and wanted, the family continues to feel devoid of caring. No one comforts Shouto, no one talks about how they feel except for Endeavor. Shouto isn’t allowed to grieve in front of his friends because Ochako takes priority because the narrative is pushing this toxic positivity message about smiling that works on the surface but fails to address any systemic changes. 

This ending doesn't fit the hopeful tone of Shouto's arc.

RIP Shouto’s arc. We loved you. 

[officialspec]

can you pleeeeease post your dm sexuality/gender hcs on here.... 🥺 i don't have a twitter but i wanna know. it's like a pandora's box to me now i'm like scratching at the door. let me in

heres the link 2 the thread (mild spoilers btw) ill post a transcript under the cut for ppl who dont have twitter

first off i think laios relationship to sex is super removed for like 50 reasons without even getting into his actual sexuality

he grew up in a place with very repressed ideas about sex and has a lot of fear about asserting his presence in situations

his special interest takes precedent over any social interactions he has and the level of closeness he feels towards people

he has a hard time figuring out his feelings towards other people both bc hes autistic and bc he has freaky deviantart fetishes that make sex in his mind a very abstract concept <- this one is me projecting mostly

that aside, i feel like gender-wise hes attracted to ppl so infrequently it may as well be entirely case-by-case

the idea of him being gay appeals to me from the 'raised with traditional values he Does Not fit into/hasnt begun to question it yet' perspective, i lauve characters who put a lot of stock into performing a role thats expected of them and fail miserably for unknown (gay) reasons

from his perspective tho i dont think he would ever really label himself anything. hes going to pride parades in the shirt+shorts Ally Fit to clap for his friends

hes also 'cis by indifference' imo... i love tmasc laios hcs it just doesnt mesh w his personal history to me. i do think hes got some kind of therian gender thing going on (not trans or nb but a secret third thing) but i cant see him changing anything abt his appearance/pronouns to accommodate that post-canon. hes just doin his thang

falin is in a similar boat for gender. i LOOVE tfem falin but the village repression thing has been bugging at me so i dont think i subscribe to it anymore (canon purist sorry) BUT if u hold that hc i am clapping and cheering regardless

instead i was propagandised to a while back and i LOVEEE the idea that being fused w a male dragon and the residual traits she has after being revived have given her a type of gender euphoria she didnt realise she was missing. a little boygirl swagger if u will

sexuality-wise i also dont think she would care to label herself, shes a lesbian by virtue of only being interested in One woman and zero other people. without marcille i do think shes still exclusively attracted to women, and i like to imagine she might experiment around a bit during her travels post-canon (pre-relationship). hearing abt it might put marcille on the news though

marcille is very simple That is a transfem lesbian. she cant get pregnant, shes obsessed w being femme and all that combined w her half-tallman struggles to be seen as 'properly feminine' by elf standards reads very transfeminine to Me. also her bookboy crush REEKS of comphet its not subtle

i think a more comfortable marcy might have the space to experiment w being elf butch like her manga boys but thats mainly self indulgence for me. utena could have saved her

senshi is gay his whole thing is abt not being able to perform dwarven masculinity to a proper standard (soft hearted, not as strong or rugged as his peers) which is like gaycoding 101. also hes a bear. homosexuality be damned by boy can work a grill

adding onto this i rly think senshi got some type of euphoria from being an elf in the changeling chapters. he was feeling himself so much i think he was using it as an outlet to have fun being a little fem and fruity without needing to justify it. do u understand

i dont have any particular opinions abt him gender-wise beyond that. his bulge is an essential part of his character design but i also saw a transmasc senshi a couple days ago that made me nod my head thoughtfully so i could go either way

chilchuck is cis and bisexual this is just canon. not even just his old man crush on senshi altho i do think thats very funny but they put his ass on a cover themed like hes in a dating sim with all the men and women in the cast and then slapped it in front of a chapter called "bicorn". i simply cant pass up that kind of overt signaling. its so fucking funny what else is there to say truly

izu to ME is a transmasc aroace lesbian (this one has the least basis in canon i just know it to be true) shes a little genderfluid with it nd uses he/she i think. i like to imagine she consistently uses masculine personal pronouns to refer to herself either way tho (boku, ore)

i think izutsumis gender/sexuality is entirely secondary in priorities to her body dysphoria. she has a lot of learning and acceptance 2 do before that kind of self discovery is on the docket and in my mind eschewing gender on some level is part of that. get sillay

shuro is cishet but at least he feels bad about it. next listen listen to me i dont think he would ever actually examine this but i need u to put on ur tin foil hat with me for one second. i think estrogen could have saved her. i have more thoughts on this but im not gonna propagandise too much on this post just know that im right

kabru is a transmasc bisexual this is also practically text. his whole thing of being treated like a doll by milsiril to put in pretty dresses, plus i think it would be pretty easy for him to stealth in the west since tallmen are seen as inherently more masculine than elves

(i also think changing genders is just more common for elves. theyre androgynous enough that it wouldnt be hard and like who in their right miiiiind would be the same gender for 500 years. dwarves too)

i think he started presenting as male socially in the west but didnt need to consider medical transition until he moved to a more mixed culture where other races might see him as a woman

i dont have to explain the bisexual part. have u seen him

namari is a butch bisexual this is just canon straight up. shes not transmasc but i think the default settings for dwarven women is like 4 years of T regardless. shes a hit at all the local cruising spots despite her renfaire nerdisms i know this

and just bc im thinking abt em kiki and kaka are identical and kiki is tfem :} theyre both attracted to women but kaka is a sub so i forgive him

THATS ALL 4 NOW theres a lot of characters so i cant have thoughts abt all of them at once but i hope this was good. im right about everything forever as per usual

[andcars]

# 𝗚𝗥𝟲𝟯 ─── STUPID IN LOVE WITH YOU BON APPETIT FICS . . . MASTERLIST . . . TAGLIST . . . AO3

GEORGE RUSSELL IS HOPELESSLY in love with you. a few headcanons on how he acts when he's with you. this is part as an extra of the bon appetit series but can be read without reading it.

TAGS . . . # female reader, pining george, reader may or may not be oblivious TYPE OF FIC . . . # headcanons, imagine, bon appetit; extra LENGTH . . . # ten headcanons/imagines, 779 words

pining!george where he tries to act casual when he invites you out, saying that he's bored and you're free. he's attempting to be real subtle about the way he texts, 'Yeah no, I don't have anything to do :/ Wanna hang?' but really he's pacing back and forth seeing if you've responded

pining!george saying that he's not needy or clingy. but it's in the small things like brushing up against your shoulder. guiding you by the shoulder when walking somewhere. random pictures or texts in the middle of the day; sometimes it's his wheels and the other times the helmet's marks. he can't stand not talking to you.

pining!george always tries to learn everything you like. 'What's your favourite band? Oh, the Cannons? Oh I'm pretty sure I've listened to their songs a few times before' and lies for a little bit about not remembering the song and is glad when you autofill the information for him. the next day he tells you he listened to them again and you talk about their music. it's these things he always want to impress you.

pining!george invites you out for the race weekends. weekends. multiple. he invites you to practically each one that everyone calls you the newest wag on the paddock. he never denies the rumour, just saying that it's not the media's problems to meddle in your relationship. but he lives for that attention, for people thinking you two look great together. he never brings it up in fear that you would think it's weird.

pining!george isn't the best guy at DIYs. however, friendship bracelets have been all over his feed lately and you've liked them all. he's never seen you with one on despite your interest. he buys an entire kit and with it multiple trinkets of different designs. when he gifts you your first friendship bracelet, it spells out his nickname for you designed with trinkets that resemble racing. he's obsessed with making them when your reaction to that one was absolutely golden.

pining!george is a fashion icon, everyone knows that. but when he's with you he's learned to adopt to your style instead. grunge? he's sporting a beanie and a spiked belt for the first time in his life. dark academia? bring back the long dark brown coats and sweaters. rockstars? you don't believe your eyes when you see george russel wearing a low tank top and patterened pants. he expanded his closet just to match your taste

pining!george is very much interested in your job. it doesn't matter whether or not you really like it, he makes it so that you enjoy it and is in awe of the things you do. oh, you travel around for catering services? he asks you to come over to cater for mercedes instead, saying that your cooking is probbaly the best thing that could come into the paddock.

pining!george of course loves your cooking. it doesn't really matter how good your cooking really is, it's like you make everything taste good. he feels like eating in your presence just makes everything taste like it's a godsent meal. no restaurant compares to you, though. he keeps saying it after he tasted your food, 'They added too much salt into this one. I ordered it because you cooked this for me before but it's a shame they can't really cook it like you do.'

pining!george 's favourite date location is probably yours or his house. he invited you over to his hotel room on a media day because the hotel was swarmed outside and he wasn't really thinking about going to papparazi. so you and he hang out there and honestly, it was fun. the both of you cook together, him miserably failing and you're effortlessly amazing. he watches local tv with you, nevermind if you don't know the language. it's entertaining to see a woman yell and slap a man across the face while everyone else is shocked. drama doesn't need a language barrier, after all. he even invites you to stay in his bed while he goes to the couch. you want to retaliate but he's already making himself comfy on the couch. you feel bad but oh well, you give him a blanket for his effort.

pining!george doesn't know that you are very amused by his behaviour. whether or not you are actually aware of his flirting, it makes you laugh everytime. you watch him change clothes, buy albums, make friendship bracelets, complain about restaurant food all with a smile on your lips. he doesn't really see himself in your eyes, and he looks so good loving you.

🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . did this during classes and i only got to make a few TT. but i plan to do a smau or a fic on the weekend, so look forward to it! and lmk any feedback on the graphic if you have any. i'm always never satisfied but god i just want a template to be able to use when i'm quickly posting ˎˊ˗ ᝰ.

──── 📨 @delululeclerc @coconut-dreamz

you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡

[babylacedream]

I'll throw my heart out to the ocean tonight

pairing: merman!rafayel x f!thalassophile reader

warnings: suicidal attempt & ideation, mini panic attack, cancer patient, angsy

summary: recently, you were diagnosed with cancer in your heart that would soon take your life. you have been obsessed with the ocean ever since you were a child, and when all hope was lost, you decided to give your heart out to the ocean.

note: inspired by pinkpantheress unreleased song called ocean. i recommend listening, its a beautiful song.

The beeping sounds of your heart monitor and the occasional sounds of nurses passing by were starting to bother you. Even the stench from your hospital room gave you a headache. The bitter-like smell of chemicals made you feel nauseous.

You started feeling breathless, as your chest pain was too unbearable to handle. Tears streamed down your cheeks. You couldn't scream for help nor rid yourself of this ache.

You tried calming yourself by grounding yourself by looking around your room. Many seashells hung up on the white walls. Pictures of whales, dolphins, and turtles.

The throbbing pain in your heart stopped. You breathed with exhausted exhales and inhaled.

You weaky reached for your phone, playing your playlist you kept especially for moments like these. The sound of the waves of the sea, and the moans of the whales carried you as you soon fell asleep on your hospital bed.

The next day was like every other miserable day in this place, getting chemotherapy, having to join therapy groups, and occasional greetings from doctors who have failed you.

Your parents made sure that you were taken good care of and observed carefully after your recent attempt. Their influence reached even the deadliest parts of your life. The life you wanted control over.

You wanted to see the ocean before your inevitable end. You wanted to give the ocean, the most bruised part of your body that failed you. In hopes, that it would make a beautiful seashell that twinkled and basked under the moonlight and stars.

You would hope that it would live on for years and years to come to preserve the ocean.

"Wishful thinking."

One night when the night seemed too quiet and long, you ripped out the IV out of your inner elbow, and blood dripped down your arm. You placed your feet inside your slippers and changed out of your hospital gown to a pink-laced nightgown. Soon, the blood on your arm would stain your nightgown almost as if foreshadowing your doom.

These past few months, you've studied the nurse's scheduled time off making sure when they left, you timed it on your phone. You were able to easily slip by their suffocating watch.

The automatic doors opened as you reached the door of the hospital entrance. A relieving sigh escaped your lungs as you walked out of the place you called, purgatory.

The night sky was darker than the other nights. You requested beforehand a taxi. As you sat in the back looking out the window reminiscing about your life. You knew you would not have regrets.

Your parents? The one time you've ever asked them for anything, you even begged your parents to release you or see the ocean but they refused, deeming it idiotic and selfish.

But, instead of loving you, they used you to gain pity from their supporters to gain an upper hand as a candidate in their political standings. You left a note on your hospital bed, hoping that this would be your last and final way of getting your revenge against them.

Your friends? They became bored when they realized you lost your parent's favor after being diagnosed with heart cancer. Back then, you cried so much but now all your tears have dried out for those people.

"This is your stop."

The driver called out, slipping you out of your reminiscing. You stepped out of the taxi and closed the door.

You turned around to face the ocean, hearing the sound of the waves crashing felt liberating. As the wind was howling, it made your nightgown and hair move against the winds.

At this point, you were losing a lot of blood but you didn't let that stop you. You took off your slippers as if the sand were holy ground, stumbling in the progress as you stepped on the sand.

Your eyes trickled with tears as adrenaline pumped through your body erasing the throbbing pain in your heart. Your feet reach the cold ocean water, and you let your feet get used to the feeling as your toes shift under the sand.

You let out a breathy puff as you felt tears forming yet again. You weren't in tears for your miserable life but for your pass over to the ocean.

"I'll throw my heart out to the ocean tonight. I hope you'll accept me as I am, bruises and all."

You gloomily softly spoke into the wind before walking deeper into the water. Your nightgown became drenched in water as the waves splashed on you. Your nightgown became heavily engulfed by the water.

Your heartbeat pumped so loudly that the sound of the waves was too low to hear. Irritated, you drove under the water completely submerged under the water.

The water filling your ears felt good, for your heartbeat was silenced. Holding your breath, you swam further. You wanted to rest where not even the filthiest hands could ever reach you.

You ascend to breathe before weakly submerging again. When you were far from land, you ascended again to catch a glimpse of the moon and stars above the sky.

"How peaceful."

You thought the waves would be rough, but it was surprisingly calm. Could this be a sign? A sign that the ocean accepts you as you are?

The calm waters and the oceanic smell of salty air consumed you even more; it felt like something was pulling you in, like the current.

It felt alluring, almost like the deep sea lily that hypnotizes and captivates with a sweet smell to only drown its prey with its venomous blooms.

You were starting to cough up blood and grimace at the feeling; it was affecting your blood vessels and spreading to your lungs. Though you were violently coughing, the oceanic waves receded gently.

You had to hurry; you were running out of time. You swam even further in; the surrounding sea was dyed with bits of your blood. You took one last look at the moon and stars and drove underwater holding your breath.

Gravity usually pulls you up, but gravity seems to keep you down. When you were completely surrounded by nothing but your thoughts. You close your eyes, letting yourself float as you sink even deeper.

'Please, make my heart into a beautiful, pleasing seashell that can live on for days and days to come.'

Your nightgown and hair were floating with you as you descended. You hoped that the waters would carry you to a peaceful place. As water filled your lungs, you struggled underneath the hold death held on you.

You never wanted this, never wanted death, but if death meant ultimate peace, you would surely let it take you.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain merman heard you. You, a poor, sicky human, have been accepted by the Sea God himself.

You heard a siren-like voice sing in an ancient language. It was pleasing to hear. You opened your eyes, hoping to see a whale, but it was hard to see as your vision started getting blurry, but you could see the outline of a fish... or a tail? A merman...

You thought you were only hallucinating; how beautiful to see a merman at your approaching death. You closed your eyes again, letting yourself be consumed by the sea.

You felt a pair of hands cupping your cheeks; you wanted to look, but your eyes felt so heavy. The hands caressed your cheeks almost lovingly. Then, it went to your lips, rubbing them with its thumb. A kiss that felt soft and good gave you the gift of breathing underwater.

But you were still dying.

The hands slowly went to your neck, caressing it, and lowered down to your chest in the direction of your heart. You felt the string of fate mend your heart to perfection.

You opened your eyes to see a merman with dusky purple hair and bluish-pink eyes. The merman had iridescent light blue scales surrounding his skin and fish-like ears that you were sure would sting you if you touched them.

You looked down weakly to see an iridescent light blue tail that looked more beautiful than anything you'd seen in your life. You were sure, the merman was about 8 feet. The attracting tail swayed back and forth as you followed its movements.

The merman smiled, seeing how you gazed at his tail. He gently supported you in his arms, lifting your body and wrapping your legs around his waist. The merman didn't want to be apart from you.

His smooth fingers gently raised your chin to look at him. Then, he grabbed your wrists, placing them around his neck so you would feel more secure in his hold.

"I heard your cry. Oh, weary human." A melodious voice spoke with a lamentable expression cascading his ravishing face.

"I have accepted your heart, as is." The merman looked towards your now healed chest, gone from any scars on your body. It's almost like he knew of your suffering. Your miserable life.

"Now, won't you be my bride, mm?" He waited for your answer as he slowly glided his hand down your leg.

"Won't you be mine?" You were trembling; being affectionately cared for by an oceanic ancient creature was transcending.

You simply gave him a slow and unsure nod as you pulled him in for a hug, hiding your face away from him. You heard chuckling escape the merman.

The merman started rubbing your back in soothing motions. This merman saved your life, took your pain away, and mended it into something beautiful.

"This is your home now."

[sissylittlefeather]

If You Talk In Your Sleep

Chapter 4

A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long! Work has been a STRUGGLE lately. But I managed to get this one out and I'm lowkey obsessed with it. I hope you love it!

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, this is definitely for adults only, there's lots of smut (blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie) but also DOMESTIC VIOLENCE. Elvis is not violent, but reader's husband is.

Word count: ~3k

It hangs there for a second like smoke before you whisper your response.

“I'm in love with you too.”

******

After the night at the Palomino Club, your life becomes a series of stolen hours with Elvis separated by the daunting reality of your life with Carl. You know Carl can't find out what you're up to, but you're so happy with Elvis that it's hard to care if he does. A fantasy of telling him and him letting you go easily consumes you every time you're forced to be around him. Still, the risk that he'd kill Elvis is still too great for you to take that chance. Instead, you sneak away as often as you can and spend your nights wrapped in satin sheets and Elvis's arms.

He doesn't go home to Priscilla, despite her constant begging and the Colonel’s insistence. They know he's probably messing around, it wouldn't be the first time, but they never dream he's in as deep as he is with you. And he is in deep. Every stolen night with you only pulls him deeper, the rest of the world fading into something distant and unimportant. He’s known love before, or at least he thought he had, but nothing has ever gripped him like this. Nothing has ever felt quite so undeniable.

A little over a month has gone by when Carl tells you that he has to go visit the bosses back East for the weekend. You're surprised he's not making you come with him, but he seems to have gotten over his suspicion. When it dawns on you that this means you'll have a whole weekend to spend with Elvis, you have to try to hide your excitement.

“I'll call to check on you every evening around 5. Make sure you're home.” If the right person said it, it might be sweet. But coming from Carl it sounds like a threat.

“I will be. It's not like I really have anywhere to go.” You're laying it on a little thick, but you want to make sure he doesn't suspect anything. In truth, your insides are positively buzzing with giddiness. He grunts and then kisses your cheek before disappearing through the door.

You wait an hour to make sure he's really gone before throwing some clothes and toiletries in a bag and heading over to Elvis's hotel. He doesn't know you have the whole weekend to spend with him, you wanted to surprise him, so you hope he'll be pleased.

When you get to his door, you knock and wait, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. He opens it and a warm smile spreads across his face.

“Hey doll. Missed you.” He wraps his arms around you and kisses your forehead as you melt against him. “What's in the bag?”

“My stuff.” You try to contain your excitement and fail miserably.

“Stuff for what?” He raises an eyebrow mischievously.

“Carl’s out of town. You mind if I stick around for the weekend?” You giggle as he brightens almost instantly and picks you up, spinning you around.

“A whole weekend?!” He laughs and carries you inside, kicking the door closed behind him. You giggle as he plops your feet on the floor and then takes your bag, tossing it to the side. Without any kind of warning, he wraps his arms around your waist and throws you over his shoulder. You squeal with delight as he takes you straight to the bedroom. The sound echoes off the walls and gets caught in the thick carpet while he drops you on the giant bed. He growls as he climbs up your body and presses himself against you. “We're gonna be in this bed for hours, little girl.”

You run your fingertips down the side of his face gently and kiss the end of his nose, whispering. “I wouldn't have it any other way.”

Something about the way you look at him makes a lump form in his throat and the thought that he wants you forever, just like this, is almost overwhelming. He carefully presses his lips to your cheek, and then the other one, your forehead, eyes, chin, and finally your lips. He'll never have enough of you, but he intends to try this weekend.

You revel in the feeling of his soft kisses on your face, your hand drifting up to the nape of his neck and tangling in his hair. What wouldn't you give to have him like this all the time: slow and gentle and so full of love that it feels like you might burst. His lips continue their journey down your jawline to your neck and he sucks on the skin there gently.

“I'm gonna leave a mark.” He says it playfully, nipping at you with his teeth.

“Fine by me. It'll be gone before Carl gets home anyway.” You moan as you feel him suck a little harder. Then, he pulls back to admire his handiwork.

“I'm glad you're okay with it because I definitely did.” He chuckles and kisses the spot softly, whispering. “Mine.”

“Yours.” He backs away and looks into your eyes.

“You mean it?” You nod, never breaking eye contact.

“Always.” And then his lips are on yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he rolls his hips against you. You whimper with the intensity of the kiss, your blood beginning to rush in your ears while your fingers make quick work of the buttons on his shirt. He shrugs out of it, letting you throw it to the side as he runs both hands up your thighs under the hem of your dress. The cotton bunches around your waist before he sits you up and yanks it over your head, diving back in to kiss you deeply. You can feel his chest hair tickling you, the cold metal of his belt buckle on your tummy making you shiver. Your breath hitches when you feel his member where it strains against the fabric of his pants. He whimpers as you run your hand up his shaft and squeeze a little. You put your other hand in the middle of his chest and push gently. “Get on your back, baby.”

He looks at you a little surprised, but complies nonetheless, settling onto his back with you straddling his hips. You run your hands up his body and then lean forward, pressing your lips to his skin. He groans as you run your tongue around his nipple and then move to the other one, nibbling gently. Your fingertips roam over parts of him you've never noticed before: the indentions on his shoulders, the way his hips curve down into his pants, the little trail of hair that starts at his belly button and continues south to the part of him you really want to see. You lift yourself off of him and back up, undoing his pants and hooking your fingers into them to pull them off. He looks down at you with his mouth open a little, not used to being treated with such care. You kiss up his thigh to the top of the patch of hair between his legs, his cock bumping into your chin as it twitches.

“Fuck, honey.” Your hands move down his torso to his hips and then back around to his ass, squeezing softly. You kiss his inner thigh again and then look up at him, a cheeky little smile on your face.

“What?” You coo, moving over to the other thigh as your hands massage his ass cheeks.

“Nobody’s ever… fuck… why?” You move down and kiss his balls and he gasps.

“Because you deserve it.” He whimpers as you lick up his shaft. “You deserve to be worshipped, adored, revered.”

“No… I don't…” The words get caught in his throat and he looks at you with more vulnerability than he's ever shown another person. You sit up a little and look at him.

“Yes. You do. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.” He lets out a sound somewhere between a strangled sob and a deep moan as you lean forward and take him fully into your mouth. The way you move up and down on him is more than sex, it's an act of devotion. His heart pounds in his chest and his fingers tangle in your hair, not as a show of dominance, but as a demonstration of his affection for you. He's never felt so connected to another person.

You lick and suck and pull him deep into your throat, pressing your nose into the hair at the base of him. Every ounce of love in your heart is evident in the way you take care of him, giving him more pleasure than he's ever experienced. He looks down at you, your eyelashes fanning over your cheeks as you close your eyes in reverence. It's an image he'll never forget.

“Love, I don't want to… finish… like this.” All of a sudden the other words seem so crude. He strokes your cheek lovingly as your eyes flutter open. “C'mere.”

You move back up his body and he lays you down next to him, holding the side of your neck as he looks at you. He carefully removes your bra and panties and drags his fingertips over your skin.

“The way I love you… it's so… much more, much deeper, than anything…” He shakes his head, trying to find the words. “I’ve been lost for my whole life. You found me and brought me home.”

He presses his lips to yours softly and pulls your leg over his hip, lining his cock up with your entrance. “I never wanna be anywhere else.”

You gasp as he pushes into you slowly, his hips rolling forward to meet yours. Words are unnecessary as he begins to pump into you, holding your hip to steady you. No phrase would be enough to convey the depth of your feelings for him, so instead you press your forehead to his and close your eyes while he makes love to you. You revel in the beautiful simplicity of being connected to him so intimately. Both of you get lost in the sensation, the reality of where he ends and you begin fading into a symphony of mutual being. You are the universe, complex and overwhelming and breathtaking all at once.

He pulls you even closer, holding on like he's afraid if he lets go you'll disappear into a dream. But it's not a dream. The two of you are real and as the pleasure builds between you, the sound of your breath mixes with skin against skin.

“Oh, God, Elvis.” You moan in his ear and he hums in agreement.

“Gonna cum soon, doll.” He says it almost regretfully because he doesn't want the moment to end. He'd hold you against him like this forever if he could.

“Me… too…” You sigh breathlessly as you dance on the edge of ecstasy.

And then you both reach the peak of your pleasure at the same time. Your body shudders and pulses as he twitches and releases deep inside you. When he finally lets go of you, you look up at him with tears in your eyes and he pulls your fingers to his lips, kissing them affectionately.

“You're the love of my life, Elvis.” You whisper, a single tear sliding down your cheek. He brushes it away with his thumb and smiles.

“And you're mine.”

It should be a moment of pure contentment, but it's not. Reality hangs over both of you like a heavy cloud. There's a storm on the horizon, but for now you choose to ignore it. You'll worry about that tomorrow.

******

You spend the next hour or so in the bed just talking and laughing and touching each other in a way you've never been able to before. Then, you settle into a bath together where you make love again with the warm water making tiny waves that crest and break against your bodies. When you finally settle in to sleep, the sun is creeping up on the horizon, but you think nothing of it, knowing that you have all the time in the world tomorrow.

The next day is spent in a haze of bliss. You order room service and spend all day in bed, making love two more times.

Finally, it approaches 5pm and you know you have to run home to talk to Carl when he calls. At the door, Elvis kisses you deeply, trying to convince himself that you'll be back in about an hour. But there's a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he just can't ignore. You feel it too, but you're convinced it's just nervousness about talking to Carl, so you make your way home without concern.

When you get home, you slide your key into the door and then freeze.

It's unlocked.

All of a sudden it feels like someone has filled your veins with ice water and you try to tell yourself that you just forgot to lock the door. But you didn't. For a second, you consider just leaving and going back to Elvis forever. You know that's impossible, though, so you prepare yourself to lie and push the door open.

Sure enough, there sits Carl. His gun is on the table and you try to get a handle on your heart that's beating like a rabbit’s. You decide to take the offensive and try to throw him off.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in Chicago.” You try to say it with confidence, challenging him to contradict you.

“Got an interesting call from Marco.” Your heart stops. Of course he would have men watching you. But you're not ready to roll over just yet.

“Yeah? And? I went out with–”

“I called Holly. She's been in Los Angeles for a year now.” More ice in your veins. You try desperately to think of another person you could've been with, your heart racing and your head getting light. For a second you feel like you might pass out, so you grab the back of a chair and Carl stands up, walking to you to steady you.

And then he sees it.

There, on your neck, the hickey that Elvis left, confident that it would never be seen.

Carl doesn't hesitate. He backhands you across the face hard and you stumble backwards.

“YOU FUCKING WHORE. I KNEW IT.” He hits you again and you hit the floor. The blinding pain rushes through you from your cheek to the rest of your body and back again. You lay there still and pray he's finished.

But he's not.

He drags you up and slams you against the wall with his hand around your throat. You whimper and claw at his hand as he chokes you.

“WHO IS IT?!” But you wouldn't tell him even if you could get a word out. You'd rather die than give him reason to hurt Elvis. When you don't speak, he slams you up against the wall again. “Fucking bitch.”

He squeezes your throat even tighter and you start to see stars. Just as you think you're going to pass out, he carries you to the front door and drops you on the floor in the hallway. You try to stand up and he hits you one last time. That's all it takes for you to drop to the ground and not get back up.

******

You wake up to someone carrying you and immediately panic.

“Woah! Woah, shhh, honey, you're okay.” For a second you think it might be Elvis, so you stop struggling and open the eye that's not swollen shut. But it's not Elvis. It's Jerry.

“What’re you doing? Carl will kill you!” You wriggle and fight to get free, but he's stronger than you expected.

“Carl left you for dead. That's a risk I'm willing to take.” He carefully puts you in the front seat of a car and then runs around to the driver's side.

“Where are you taking me?”

“The hospital. I'm under strict orders to make sure you're okay.” You scoff and try to get out of the car, but he's already driving.

“I don't need a hospital.” He looks at you for a second and then just flips the visor down, opening the mirror for you to see yourself. You gasp at the image. Your eye is red and purple, the bruise spreading down your cheek, and there are dark marks around your neck where he choked you.

“If I take you to Elvis like this and don't stop at a hospital, he'll kill me before he kills Carl.” You shake your head, the image of Carl’s gun on the table floating in front of your good eye.

“Elvis can't see me like this.”

“You're not thinking clearly. Of course–”

“No. Jerry, you have to promise to take me home after the emergency room. If I'm not okay, you can tell Elvis, but if I am, he never needs to know about this. Got it?” Jerry purses his lips, obviously contemplating your request.

“Not sure I can do that.”

“Do you want Elvis to die? Is that what you want? Because that's what'll happen if you tell him.” He sighs deeply and runs his hand in his hair.

“Emergency room. If it's bad, I'm tellin’ him.”

“Deal.”

You ride in silence the rest of the way to the hospital. It takes a while for you to get back to an exam room and be looked at. A police officer takes Jerry, who says over and again that he didn't do this to you and he's not your boyfriend. He insists that he's just a friend who found you like this and is trying to do the right thing. Eventually, they decide that he must be telling the truth and let him come back to you. He walks in with a nurse who looks at him nervously.

“Miss. I have some… results…” You assume she must be talking about the concussion test they did and nod your head.

“Yeah? And?” She bites her lip and looks anxiously at Jerry again. You look over at him and back at her and your stomach turns over. “You can just say it. He's a friend.” She takes a steadying breath and nods. Then, she opens her mouth and utters a phrase that changes the course of your life forever.

“Did you know you're pregnant?”

******

Ahhhhhhh!!!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy @angelriley222 @iloveelvis2

[purrlockswatson]

Phantom of the Opera (1990), you did Erik proud

Alternate title: Christine, we have beef!

(Meme inspired by this post.)

I have not a bad word for this Erik (and not just because I can feel a certain friend of mine holding a chandelier over my head). The 1990 adaptation made some big changes to the story, but it perfectly captured the childlike soul of Leroux's Erik that is often lost in translation but vital to him. (When I was explaining POTO to someone outside the situation, i. e. my mum, two things I kept using as comparisons were a child and Gollum - not because he's a chaos gremlin, I was trying to describe how he has a skewered perspective of the world that isn't evil but doesn't follow the accepted moral system. But that's for another time.)

I found myself trying very hard not to resent Christine - a first time for me. I will defend her choosing the Compte de Chagny over Erik, she doesn't owe Erik love, no matter what he did for her. The problem is that she took on a responsibility she couldn't possibly carry.

Never, ever assume to fully understand someone. Especially someone like Erik, who thinks and exists on a different pane as most people. Christine was wrong, terribly wrong, to assume she 'knew his heart.'

When faced with a person so sensitive, so particular, when you are the one person trusted by someone who trusts no one, don't make huge gambles like that. She shouldn't have assumed she knew what Erik needs better than he himself does - if he told you he is happy with where they were, then stay there with him! Instead, she pulled the 'I can fix him' and shattered him completely. I don't hate her for being unable to catch Erik when he falls, I hate her for blindly promising to catch him and failing him.

(I do realise how much of the above describes myself and my worries about how people treat me, so fair warning, I may be a bit biased.)

An opinion: in most versions of the story, Erik emotionally manipulates Christine, but here, Christine is the one who is emotionally manipulative. ('Manipulative' may sound malicious, but manipulators aren't always aware of what they're doing.)

In the second part of the series, she said at least three times 'If you love me...' Now, that is one of my least favourite sentences to see and hear in the best of times, but this is somehow even worse because Erik DOES do everything because he loves her. In other versions, there is the question of possessiveness against love when it comes to their relationship; in that context, I would accept her saying this, to remind him that he should love and not obsess over her. But here, Erik is not possessive.

As for Monsieur Carrière, I have beef with him, too. It's an even bigger, tougher slice of beef. He is irresponsible: not once, but twice, he got in relationships and then left his partners when they have children. The first time could be a mistake; the second time, especially when kept Erik's mother in the dark about his marriage, is inexcusable. Yes, he stayed with her till the end, but then left their son in a basement. Yes, he reached out to Erik in the end, but too little, too late. If Erik is emotional and irrational, it's because Carrière never gave him the guidance he should have.

Christine and Carrière love Erik, I don't doubt it. But it's still painful to see Erik fall down through everyone and everything that should have caught him: his talent, his parents, Christine.

If you'll excuse me, I need to cry in the catacombs and draw something miserable.

I talk about several other adaptations here!

[queenshelby]

The Basement (Part One)

Pairing: Dark Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Dub-Con, CNC, Smut

It was a Thursday evening when you found yourself standing amidst the artfully crafted chaos of your new exhibition opening in Dublin. The scent of expensive cologne and the hum of excited chatter filled the air, accompanied by the occasional clink of glasses raised in celebration.

You had been working there for a year now and your heart raced, palpitating with the anticipation of meeting your favorite actor tonight who was said to appear at the event according to one of your acquaintances and fellow artists. 

As you surveyed the crowd, you couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought of finally meeting him. It was a dream come true and you wanted to shake his hand, look into those icy blue eyes, and express how much his work meant to you ever since you began watching him in Peaky Blinders. 

But the crowd seemed to grow thicker, and you began to lose hope of getting close enough for a proper introduction.

That's when you saw him standing across the room, wearing a black suit. His slightly greying hair framed his face like a soft halo and those striking eyes were unmistakable, even from meters away. And then there was his smile, slightly crooked, as if to suggest a naughty secret just waiting to be told.

The moment your eyes met, he locked onto you, his gaze penetrating straight through to your soul.

He had obviously noticed you starring at him like some obsessive little girl, unable to take your eyes off his enticing form.

It was a strange feeling, being seen by him like that; it felt like he could see right through you, past every layer of facade you hid behind.

Taking up the courage to introduce yourself to him, you carefully made your way over to where he stood.

"Hi, I'm Y/N," you offered hesitantly, holding out your hand in greeting. "I work here and I am a huge fan of your work," you quickly added, hoping to sound professional enough for the occasion but failing miserably in doing so.

Cillian took your hand gently, his touch sending goosebumps racing up your arm. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Y/N," he said warmly, his voice deep and soothing. "I've heard great things about this place. It's truly inspiring work," he complimented, gesturing towards the stunning art pieces surrounding you both.

You blushed at the praise, feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach.

"Are you one of the collaborators?" he then asked and you nodded awkwardly. "Yes, I do the photography," you answered shyly, pointing to a series of surreal landscapes adorning the walls nearby. Cillian's eyes widened with genuine interest upon seeing your work hung proudly beside the paintings of renowned artists.

A gentle smile crept across his lips as he studied each image intently before offering a genuine compliment. "Beautiful," he murmured softly, looking up at you with admiration in his eyes. "I can only imagine what inspired you to create such ethereal visuals."

Your cheeks turned a rosy pink, your nervousness intensifying under his praise. "Thank you," you stammered, struggling to muster the confidence to continue speaking so you took a big sip of your wine instead. 

Cillian smiled down at you encouragingly, watching you as you nervously toyed with the hem of your dress. "How long have you been working here?" he asked conversationally, moving closer to you.

"About a year now," you replied, taking another swig of your drink. The alcohol gave you a bit more courage to speak freely while he reached for another glass of wine from the waiter walking by and handing it to you. 

"And do you enjoy it?" he then questioned, turning back to you with curious gleam in his eye.

"Working here? Well, sometimes it feels a bit overwhelming, but yes, I do," you admitted truthfully, shrugging sheepishly.

"It looks like a lot of hard work goes into it," he acknowledged, nodding appreciatively.

"It does but it is fun too. I get to meet a lot of interesting people, like you," you responded, smiling nervously.

Cillian chuckled quietly, his eyes crinkling in amusement. "Well, I don't think I am that interesting, but thank you," he said as he leaned in closer, his hushed voice.

"Well, I think you are and you are, uhm... well I really liked you in Peaky Blinders," you stammered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.  "Tommy has this kind of darkness about him and it is very attractive I think," you laughed self-consciously, suddenly realizing how much you had to drink.

Cillian's eyes sparkled with mischief as he grinned knowingly. "Oh, so Thomas Shelby is attractive to you, huh?" he teased, his voice dropping low and seductive. "Well, I guess I should be flattered then, shouldn't I?"

"I didn't mean it that way!" you gasped, shaking your head suddenly. 

"No?" he drawled, his tone dripping with teasing malice. "What exactly did you mean, then?" Cillian wanted to know. 

Your cheeks reddened further as you glanced around, trying to hide your mortification. "I just meant that you portray Tommy so well that I find myself drawn to him," you muttered under your breath.

"Interesting," Cillian mused, studying you carefully. "So, does that mean that you feel drawn to me too?" Cillian teased playfully, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, not at all!" you sputtered, laughing nervously. 

"No?" he asked mischievously.  "That's a shame," he teased, winking slyly. "Because I wouldn't have minded having someone like join me at my hotel room later tonight," he suggested nonchalantly, leaning in closer until his lips brushed against your ear.

You gasped, stunned by his bold proposition. "What?" you spluttered, jerking back from him in shock. "Are you serious?"

Cillian smirked, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Yes, although you would have to agree to sign an NDA before I take you there," he added, winking slyly. 

You stared at him, wide-eyed, processing his offer. It was like a dream come true and even though you had never slept with anyone before, you agreed to his proposal. 

The idea of spending the night with Cillian Murphy was irresistible, intoxicating even. You knew the risks involved, but at that moment, nothing mattered more than fulfilling the fantasy you had nurtured inside you all these years.

"Alright," you managed to whisper, swallowing hard as you watched Cillian finish up his drink.

"Good then lets get out of here," he whispered back, flashing you a wicked grin and, soon after that, you stepped outside, the cold night air hit you, instantly sobering you up. You couldn't believe this was happening. You were going to a hotel room with Cillian Murphy. But as the reality sunk in, you started to feel anxious about losing your virginity to someone you didn't even know. 

When you arrived at the hotel room half an hour later, Cillian made you sign the NDA and, soon after you did, you found yourself pressed against the door, his hot breath fanning your neck and his hands already starting to explore your body.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," he murmured reassuringly, kissing your neck tenderly as he sensed your nervousness. 

"You want this, don't you?" he whispered, sliding his hands beneath your shirt, caressing your skin. "Just say the word, and we can stop," he reassured you but you simply moaned softly, arching your back as his fingers touched the sensitive spot between your shoulder blades.

Despite the lingering doubts in your mind, you couldn't deny the intense desire coursing through your veins. You wanted him, needed him.

"I don't want to stop," you whimpered, clutching at the fabric covering his chest.

Cillian smirked down at you, his eyes dark and glittering with lust.

"Good girl," he cooed, running his thumb along your jawline. "Now, tell me Y/N, will you let me do whatever I want with you tonight?"

You swallowed thickly, your pulse thrumming wildly in your throat. "Whatever you want, Cillian," you breathed, clinging tighter to his shoulders.

"Really?" he murmured, trailing kisses along your jawline. 

You shivered, feeling a thrill of excitement course through you. "Yeah, whatever you want," you assured him, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his soft hair.

"Good," Cillian groaned as, with a devious grin, he pulled away, leaving you breathless and hungry for more. 

"Now I want you to undress for me," he commanded, his voice soft yet commanding. His eyes held a playful glint that belied the power they exuded.

Slowly, you slipped off your heels first, letting them fall silently to the floor. With every step you took back, you became spellbound by his gaze, entranced by the magnetism oozing from his presence.

Your heart pounded in your chest, as you untied the knot holding your dress together, allowing it to slip gracefully from your shoulders.

The thin fabric pooled around your feet, leaving you standing naked before Cillian. Your bare skin prickled with anticipation, knowing that he had complete control over you.

"Your panties too," Cillian purred, the edge of his mouth curling into a devilish smirk.

Eyes fixed on his mesmerizing gaze, you hesitated for a brief second before pulling away your panties. The feeling of utter vulnerability washed over you like a tidal wave, yet something within you embraced the sensation.

"Perfect," Cillian murmured approvingly, his eyes raking over your nude form hungrily. "Now, stand still for me."

You obeyed, standing stiffly as he circled around you like a predator assessing its prey.

Cillian traced his index finger along your collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth.

"You're beautiful, Y/N," he murmured, his eyes traveling downwards to admire your curvy hips tapering into your waist. "So fucking gorgeous."

His words ignited a fire within you, and with each passing second, your nerves began to calm down. This was it. The culmination of everything you ever fantasized about.

Cillian stepped back to take off his shirt, revealing a lean torso.

The sight made your mouth go dry, and you almost forgot to breathe.

He moved closer, running his hand up along your inner thigh, sending shivers down your spine.

"Drop to your knees Y/N," he ordered, his voice low and gravelly. You hesitated for a moment, but his insistent gaze compelled you to follow his command.

Once on your knees, you looked up at him, his eyes burning with desire, his erection straining against his pants. You reached out, unbuttoning his jeans.

He groaned softly as you slipped the zipper down, freeing his cock from its confines. You gasped at the sight before you - thick, veiny, and throbbing with need.

"Look at me," Cillian demanded, placing his hands on your shoulders roughly. Your eyes lifted towards him, meeting his fiery gaze. "Tell me how much you want this."

"I want this. I want this a lot," you managed to utter, biting your lip nervously.

"Good girl," Cillian praised, his grip tightening on your shoulders. "Now, show me. Take my cock in to your mouth," he demanded and you hesitated for a moment, staring at the swollen tip of his cock. The urge to wrap your lips around it was overwhelming, but you also felt uneasy about the unknown territory you were treading.

Still, the prospect of pleasing Cillian thrilled you, and you leaned forward, your tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock.

Cillian groaned loudly, his grip tightening on your shoulders. "That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice hoarse with raw lust. "Take your time, taste me."

His request spurred you on, and you opened your mouth wider, taking the head of his cock between your lips.

You sucked lightly, savoring the taste of him, your heart pounding in rhythm with the intensity of the moment.

"Suck me harder," Cillian growled, his hands grasping your hair tightly as he thrust deeper into your mouth.

You complied, applying more force, reveling in the sensation of his cock pulsing against your tongue. You felt empowered, desired, and utterly submissive. The combination was intoxicating.

Cillian continued to guide you, coaching you through every stroke, praising your efforts with guttural moans and sighs of pleasure.

"That's it, Y/N," he coaxed, threading his fingers through your hair. "Fuck, you're good with your mouth."

You struggled to catch your breath, your lungs heaving in the silence of the dimly lit room. Each word, each gesture, served to fuel the growing tension between you two.

You tasted Cillian's precum, tangy and salty, arousing you further.

Your inhibitions vanished, replaced by a raw hunger for his approval.

"You're doing great," Cillian murmured, his grip tightening on your hair. "I want you to take me deeper, okay?"

You eagerly bobbed your head, engulfing his length greedily. The heat building between you threatened to combust.

"God, you're amazing," Cillian groaned, bucking his hips.

"Open wide for me now, sweetheart," he instructed, gripping your hair tightly in his fist.

You followed his order, parting your lips and sucking harder.

As you deepthroated him, Cillian's hips bucked involuntarily, grinding against your lips.

The smell of sweat combined with the faint smell of alcohol, created a unique scent that aroused you further.

"Ah, fuck," Cillian cried out, his hand tightening on your scalp.

"Keep going," he encouraged, his voice strained with effort.

You obliged, loving the taste of him.

Cillian's cock grew thicker in your mouth, his hardness becoming even more pronounced. You could sense his pleasure and it drove you wild.

"I will cum down your throat now and I want you to be a good girl and swallow it all," Cillian declared.

His voice had a stern authority that sent shivers down your spine.

Nervous excitement surged through you as you prepared for the inevitable.

"Okay," you managed to whisper, your heart drumming in your chest.

Cillian placed his hands on your cheekbones, his thumbs stroking your temples soothingly.

"Relax," he urged, his voice softer now. "Let it happen."

You took a deep breath, clenching your fists tight, readying yourself for the sensation.

Cillian's breathing became labored, and you could tell he was on the brink of release.

"Here it comes," he warned, his voice strained. "Swallow every drop baby."

You nodded, your heart hammering in your chest.

With a final warning glance, Cillian exploded, filling your mouth with his seed. You gagged reflexively, but you remembered his warning. Swallowing hard, you forced the semen down your throat, tasting the bitterness of his essence.

Cillian sighed heavily, releasing your hair and caressing your head tenderly.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. "You handled that beautifully."

You sat back on your heels, panting heavily, your senses reeling from the intense encounter. "Thanks," you mumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "I tried my best."

Cillian smiled down at you, his eyes sparkling with pride. "You exceeded my expectations," he praised, cupping your chin before pulling you up to stand on your feet again. "Now it is time to see how tight you are," he announced, his voice husky with anticipation. "So why don't you climb on to the bed for me. I want to fuck you from behind so that I can watch my cock slide in and out of your pussy," Cillian murmured huskily, his gaze burning with lust.

You hesitated briefly, unsure of what to do. You'd never done anything like this before and the fear of not being able to match Cillian's expectations loomed large. However, the thought of experiencing something you'd only dreamed about pushed you forward.

"Okay," you responded, climbing onto the king-sized bed. The mattress sank beneath your weight, enveloping you in a cloud of softness.

You turned around, facing the mirrored wall opposite the bed, watching yourself in the reflection. The bedside lamp cast a soft glow on your skin, illuminating the flush of arousal creeping up your cheeks.

Cillian climbed onto the bed behind you, his movements confident and assertive. You watched him pull a condom from the bedside table drawer, expertly rolling it onto his erect cock before discarding the wrapper on the floor.

He then reached forward, assessing your wetness with a fingertip. You arched your back in response while Cillian gripped your hips firmly.

"I want you to stay like this," he instructed, positioning your legs apart. "Ready for me?" he asked as the anticipation built within you, your heart pounding with trepidation and excitement.

"Yes," you managed to squeak, biting your lip as you waited for him to enter you.

You could feel his heated breath on your neck, and the anticipation of his entry filled you with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Cillian positioned himself behind you, aligning his cock with your entrance. You braced yourself, anticipating the invasion of his massive member.

"I am going to stretch you open now, Y/N," Cillian murmured in your ear, his words vibrating against your skin as you felt his hands grip your hips firmly, anchoring you in place.

Then, with a single swift motion, he thrust deeply into you, stretching you open, causing tears to spring to your eyes from the sudden intrusion. You suppressed a scream while pushing your face against the pillow while Cillian pumped into you. 

"You're so tight," he groaned, thrusting faster, deeper, relentlessly driving into you, his cock burrowing into your core, filling you completely.

It was painful but knowing who he was and that you were pleasing him somehow numbed the discomfort.

"Does it hurt?" he murmured, sounding genuinely concerned, his voice cracking slightly.

"No," you lied unconvincingly, your voice quivering. "Not really."

"Good," he grunted, continuing his relentless assault on your body. "Because I'm enjoying this and I am going to make you mine," he declared, grabbing your hips more tightly, guiding your movement with his firm hands. You gasped as he slammed into you, his cock hitting the deepest parts of you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You fought the urge to cry out as he mercilessly fucked you, his thrusts deep and unrelenting.

"Good girl. Keep taking my cock," Cillian groaned, his voice muffled. 

He grabbed your hips roughly, forcing you to arch back against him, and you moaned softly, unable to resist the pleasure he offered.

"So tight," he murmured, pumping into you harder.

"Can you feel my cock stretching you open?" Cillian murmured, his voice heavy with lust.

You winced, your muscles tensing, but nodded weakly, unwilling to break the spell that Cillian had woven around you.

"Good," he groaned, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back into you with renewed vigor. "I want you to cum for me, Y/N."

His words jolted you, stirring a strange sensation within you. You'd never experienced anything quite like this before, overwhelmed by the mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through your body.

The fear of disappointing Cillian fueled your determination to satisfy him, despite the discomfort.

"Do you like that?" Cillian murmured, his voice deepening as he buried his cock inside you multiple times. "Feel my cock stretching you open."

Your heart raced, pounding against your ribcage like a frenzied beast. You moaned softly, struggling to contain the mounting desire raging within you.

"Yeah, that's right," Cillian growled, punctuating each thrust with a sharp yank of your hair.

"Scream for me, baby."

You whimpered, your cries echoing in the silent room. Every brutal thrust of his cock stretched you open, driving you toward the precipice of orgasm until, finally, you could not take anymore.

You screamed, your voice reverberating through the room as your orgasm washed over you, consuming you whole.

"Yes, that's it," Cillian murmured, his voice strained and desperate. "Come for me, Y/N."

You thrashed beneath him, writhing uncontrollably as he pummeled your depths, milking your release. Your screams echoed in the silence, as the sheer force of your orgasm shook you. You cried out, your voice raw and hoarse.

The pleasure consumed you, obliterating any lingering fears or doubts.

Cillian continued to pump into you, his cock relentless as it plundered your depths. You clawed at the sheets, your nails digging into the fabric as you surrendered to the exquisite torment until, suddenly, he withdrew and quickly removed the condom.

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice strained yet commanding as he pumped his cock with his hand.

You complied, turning to face him, your chest heaving with exertion.

"Open your mouth," Cillian said, his voice low and gruff. You parted your lips obediently, exposing your moistened flesh beneath his scrutiny.

"I will cum inside your mouth again, so open wide," Cillian murmured, his words laden with intent.

With a practiced twist of his wrist, he aimed his pulsating shaft directly at your waiting mouth. The head of his cock swelled, eager to be welcomed inside.

"Good girl," he groaned. "Here it comes," Cillian jerked his hand, unleashing a stream of cum straight into your mouth. You gagged, choking on the warm liquid as it filled your mouth.

"Swallow it," he barked, his voice strained with lust. "Every last drop."

You coughed as the thick substance filled your mouth, and you wondered if you'd ever forget the flavor of Cillian's essence as you gulped it down.

Your heart thumped erratically in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins like a drug. As you lay on the rumpled sheets, the remnants of ecstasy and exhaustion pulsed through every fiber of your being.

"That was quite something," Cillian murmured, tracing light patterns on your arm with his fingertips. "But I must admit, I'm surprised by your eagerness to please me. I did not expect such obedience from anyone really."

You shrugged uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. "Well, I must admit, I had my fair share of wet dreams about you so I really wanted to please you," you replied, hoping your answer sounded casual enough. "And it's not everyday you get to sleep with a famous actor."

Cillian chuckled softly, leaning in close to kiss your cheek. 

"Hmm, you know what I have been fantasizing about?" Cillian mused, brushing some hair away from your face and kissing your forehead lightly. "I've been fantasizing about keeping someone like you at my house for a few weeks. Someone who agrees to let me do whatever I want to her. Someone I can use every day for my pleasure," Cillian explained as he traced a gentle pattern on your arm with his fingertips, his eyes locked on yours. "Would that interest you?"

You hesitated, your heart fluttering at the idea. "Well, I don't know..." you trailed off, trying to sound nonchalant. "I mean, I guess I'd consider it."

Cillian smiled mysteriously, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous sparkle. "Good," he said, his voice dropping low and seductive. "I get my assistant to send you a contract then. You can read it, see if you are okay with thee terms and then we can make arrangements," Cillian suggested, his tone hinting at an excited undercurrent.

You blinked, your mind racing with possibilities. The idea of spending a few weeks with Cillian, submitting to his desires, seemed both terrifying and thrilling. "Sure, I'd love to see the contract," you agreed meekly, secretly yearning for the opportunity to spend more time with him.

"Good," Cillian grinned, his eyes sparkling with delight. "Although, you better think it though thoroughly, Y/N. It involves me doing things to you which you may not necessarily enjoy," Cillian said, his voice deep and resonant. "I won't ask for your consent or permission during every encounter. You will be in some pain and you will most defiantly be sore. And most importantly, you'll be in my house, with no contact with the outside world whatsoever during our arrangement," Cillian told you matter-of-factly, as he ran his fingers gently down your arm.

Tags: @ietss @thorins-queen-of-erebor @cilliansbabe @calmingmelody96 @lavender-haze-01 @febris-amatoria @cursedalchemist

[sherlockggrian]

gonna talk about lore for a second cause it's eating away at me here

this is all entirely personal and 80% made up with zero basis other than the ongoing au for hermitcraft/life in my head, btw. Grian has steadily been getting more confident and dangerous with his powers since the end of season 8. He was terribly afraid of them and refused to use them for the first few years after Evo, and it took a long time during season 9 for him to be more comfortable. Each life series he gets more and more powerful and has more influence over the game. He's still not on the side of the watchers themselves.

In season 10, he uses it casually. He sits on the dock and mentally flies around the server to check on everyone. He can jump in and out of worlds and universes. He can stop time and talk to people in their dreams. Pearl has some powers as well, though she is not a true watcher in the sense and thus isn't quite the same as Grian. I was thinking about Taurtis, and how he made Grian and probably Pearl into what they are, and how he's the reason the watchers are so obsessed with Grian and his group specifically - becayse though Taurtis has lost most of what made him human, forgotten his human form and thinks mostly as a powerful entity, he still has this connection and ties to the other Evo players.

Which is why Grian and Pearl want to kill him. Permanently. They cause a rip in the world borders of Hermitcraft, and Taurtis comes to them, and during the fight something goes wrong and Taurtis ends up posessing Grian. He's now sort of two people, with Taurtis able to control him sometimes, but Grian powerful enough to fight it off. This small disruption in the world is enough for the watchers to trap the players into Wild Life.

Grian/Taurtis choose the wild cards. Grian knows what is going to happen, yet is somewhat powerless to stop it. He's in this sort of interal war while also trying to keep his friends alive (and failing miserably). Scar, who believes the canary curse being broken last time is what let him beat the watchers (he won instead of Gem, the one who the watchers wanted), is working dsperately to stop Jimmy from dying.

Pearl is the only one who knows about Grian. She's keeping quiet, waiting for the right moment to intervene again, like she did last season. They always keep their distance from each other because they know they're the ones who can sort of protect everyone as best they can from the watchers, and it works better when they are spread out. Their alliance is very thin at best. Despite their powers, they don't trust each other.

And Bigb, once again, is there to observe. He is not a watcher, or a listener, but something else, a 3rd being that the watchers keep a careful eye on. He could end everything, if he wanted, he wasn't even intended to be there, but he chooses to go along with it, for reasons unknown to anyone but him. He is not allied with the watchers, but he does nothing to prevent their attacks. Nobody knows where he came from, or where he goes when the games are over. He is merely there.

[shybluebirdninja]

Claw Machine Master

Summary: Logan becomes obsessed with winning you a prize at the claw machine, but after burning through a hundred bucks and failing miserably, he uses his actual claws to grab the toy, setting off alarms. “Babe, I won, now run!”

Pairing             : Mutant!Logan Howlett x Gf!Human-reader Genre              : Fluff

You and Logan stroll through the arcade, the air buzzing with the sounds of laughter, beeping machines, and the smell of buttery popcorn. It’s one of those rare days where he’s not off saving the world or being a total grump. Instead, he’s decided to channel his inner child, and honestly, it’s hilarious watching this grizzly mutant navigate through a world of flashing lights and pastel-colored prizes.

“Hey, babe, check it out!” he shouts, pointing dramatically at a claw machine that’s blaring “Pick Me! Pick Me!” like a desperate kid at a birthday party. Inside, you see a plush unicorn, all sparkly and cute. It’s practically begging to be won.

“Logan, don’t,” you warn, laughing. “Remember the last time you tried to win me something? You ended up breaking the machine.”

“Yeah, but that was a fluke! This time will be different,” he insists, all pumped up and ready to go. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, and you know that if he goes in, he’s gonna give it everything he’s got.

“Alright, but I’m standing back. I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime,” you tease.

He throws you a playful glare. “Pfft. How hard can it be? It’s just a claw.”

He approaches the machine like it’s a life-or-death situation. The little screen flashes “Insert Coins,” and Logan pops in a couple of bucks like he’s preparing for war. He adjusts his stance, rolling his shoulders back as if he’s about to take on a Sentinal. You stifle a laugh, taking a step back to observe.

“Alright, watch and learn, honey,” he says, smirking at you. “Claw Machine Master at work.”

The first attempt? A total flop. The claw barely grazes the unicorn before plummeting back down like a rock. Logan’s jaw tightens, his competitive side kicking in. “Okay, that was a warm-up. Just getting the feel for it.”

“Sure, let’s call it that,” you giggle, arms crossed, enjoying the show.

After another few rounds—and about fifty bucks later—he’s starting to get frustrated. “This damn thing is rigged! I swear it’s cheating!” he growls, glaring at the machine as if it just insulted him.

“Or maybe you just suck at claw machines,” you quip. “You’re a master at literally everything else, Logan, but this? Not so much.”

He throws you a playful glare. “Alright, smartass, you think you can do better? Get in there and try!”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Nah, I’ll let you have this one. It’s more fun watching you lose your mind over a stuffed toy.”

With a snort, he rolls his eyes and goes back for another attempt. After burning through more cash, it’s clear that this unicorn is tougher than any enemy he’s faced. “Babe, I’m gonna win you this prize if it kills me,” he mutters under his breath.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t! I don’t want you to end up in the emergency room because of a stuffed animal!”

Finally, he steps back, looking completely defeated. You can practically see the steam coming out of his ears. “This isn’t over!” he declares, his voice rising like a battle cry. “I’ll get that unicorn if it’s the last thing I do.”

Suddenly, you see that wicked spark in his eye, the one that usually means he’s concocting something insane. “What are you thinking?” you ask, half-excited and half-terrified.

“Watch this,” he smirks, and before you can even process what’s happening, he unsheathes his claws, slicing through the air with a snikt that makes everyone turn to stare.

“Logan, no! Don’t you dare!” you shout, but it’s too late. He lunges at the claw machine and, with surgical precision, he reaches into the glass case.

“Babe, I won! Now run!” he yells, grabbing the unicorn as the machine starts blaring alarms like it’s the end of the world.

You grab his arm, yanking him away from the scene of chaos. “You crazy son of a—let’s get out of here!”

Logan, still holding the plush toy like a trophy, bursts out laughing, running like a madman with you right beside him. “I can’t believe I just did that! I’m like the Robin Hood of claw machines!”

“More like the criminal of claw machines!” you shout, laughing uncontrollably as you dart through the arcade, dodging other players and workers who are now chasing after you both.

As you reach the exit, Logan pulls you into a side alley, still holding the unicorn like a proud parent. “That was wild! Did you see their faces?”

You’re breathless, still giggling as you lean against the wall. “You just committed arcade robbery! And for a stuffed toy!”

He shrugs, grinning widely. “It’s worth it for you, babe. Plus, look at this thing! It’s adorable!”

“Logan, I love it, but next time, maybe let’s just buy a keychain?” you suggest, still trying to catch your breath.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he laughs, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you close. “Next adventure, babe. We’ll get matching unicorns or something.”