#far be it from me to rip your fantasies away

[bugeyedfreaks]

Was lurking around the internet and stumbled across something someone said about how the RRB could be redeemed, as several characters in the series that have exhibited bad boy behavior (i.e. Harry Pitt with his smooching, Mitch with his hamster abuse) were redeemed in the end of their respective episodes. So, by that logic, the RRB could be redeemed as well.

...guys... need I remind you that the RRB were literally designed to be evil and they never exhibited the potential for redemption in any of their episodes. If they could, it would have happened. Ice cold toilet water flows through their veins. They are built different.

[greengoblinswifey]

White Boy of the Month- Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

warnings: smut, jealous!reader, unprotected sex, oral(f receiving) creampie, praise kink, established relationship, this monstrosity i conjured up.

author’s note: i’ve only ever written smut for characters and not actors so i feel a bit weird about this, hope you guys like it regardless. ps: this is all just fantasy <3

Nicholas was everywhere these days. TikTok’s new “white boy of the month”, and it seemed like everyone had taken notice. You were lying in bed, scrolling through TikTok, watching yet another edit of him. The one that kept popping up on your feed was to "Shake Dat Ah" by Bossman Dlow, and it had blown up. The video cut perfectly between slow-motion shots of him smiling and laughing, looking so effortlessly handsome with that amazing body. You couldn’t help but watch it on repeat.

You were so engrossed in it that you didn’t notice Nicholas walking into the room until he stood by the bed. Your eyes widened as you quickly tried to scroll away from the TikTok, but it was too late. He caught you.

“You’re watching the edits again, aren’t you?” Nicholas chuckled, his lips curving into that playful smirk you knew too well. “Enjoying them?”

Your face warmed, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. “I enjoy having you in front of me way more,” you teased, giving him a wink.

He grinned and joined you on the bed, lying beside you. He nestled his head on your chest, his face resting against your tits as he made himself comfortable. You resumed watching the TikTok, this time paying attention to the comments. As expected, they were filled with thirsty women.

“He’s so hot, I can’t take it!” “Nicholas Chavez is my husband now, no one can tell me otherwise.” “I’m gonna need him to come over here and shake dat ah for me.” “Fuck me daddy.” “I need him so fucking bad.”

You rolled your eyes at the flood of heart-eye emojis and wild comments, but couldn’t help feeling a slight twinge of jealousy. Nicholas, sensing your shift in mood, peeked up at you.

“Jealous?” he asked softly, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You hesitated, scrolling through another comment about how someone wanted to marry him and have him deflower them. “Maybe just a little,” you admitted, though you couldn’t help but smile down at him. “It’s not like I can’t see why they’re obsessed.”

He reached up, placing a kiss on your collarbone, his eyes never leaving yours. “They can have the edits, but I’m here with you.”

You exhaled softly, letting go of the jealousy. You knew you had him, right there in your arms, and no TikTok comment could take that away. “I guess I can deal with it,” you teased, your fingers brushing through his hair. “As long as you remember who you really belong to.”

He laughed, his breath warm against your skin. “Always.”

The energy between you and Nicholas shifted in an instant. His playful demeanor was gone, replaced by something far more intense. Without a word, he reached up, pulling your tank top down just enough to free your tits. Your breath hitched as his warm hands cupped them, and you tossed your phone to the side, the TikTok edits now a distant thought, though you’d definitely be watching and gushing later. Your fingers found their way into his hair, gripping softly as he kissed down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

When he reached the waistband of your panties, his lips pressed firmly against your clothed pussy, making you gasp. Without hesitation, he grabbed the fabric and, with a sharp rip, tore them off with his strong, muscular arms. The rawness of the action sent a jolt of arousal through you, and you felt your body respond immediately.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding. Your eyes met his, and he smirked. “No woman in any comment section will ever feel my tongue on them like you do right now.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you, ravishing your clit with fierce hunger. His tongue moved in circles, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your core. His finger slid inside you, curling in just the right way, making you whimper. When he added a second finger, your body couldn’t take it anymore. Your back arched off the bed as you came hard, cumming all over his mouth and fingers, your moans filling the room.

Nicholas didn’t stop, his lips and fingers continuing to work you through the orgasm, his eyes locked on your face. “So pretty,” he murmured between licks, “Your pussy looks so pretty. You look so pretty when you cum.”

Your chest heaved as you came down from your high, your mind hazy with pleasure. His words sent another flush of heat through you as he pulled back slightly, his lips glistening. “I’m all yours,” he whispered, his fingers still inside you, moving slowly. “And you’re all mine.”

“I’m yours Nicholas,” you whimpered and he smiled.

He pulled off his boxers, his big, thick cock springing free, standing hard and ready. The tip was a bright, flushed pink, curving just slightly, making your breath hitch in anticipation. He settled between your legs, teasing your clit with the head of his cock, rubbing it slowly, sending shivers through your entire body. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel him inside you.

He positioned himself at your entrance, and slowly, so slowly, began to push in. His cock stretched you inch by inch, your tight pussy gripping him as he filled you. He let out a deep hiss as he sank deeper, his body trembling from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice strained with restraint.

You clung to his arms, gasping, “You’re so big,” the words barely a whisper as he continued pushing inside, his thick length stretching you to the limit. When he was fully inside, he paused, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily before he started to move, pounding into you in deep, steady strokes.

“You’re my beautiful girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire as he thrusted into you. “And I’m yours. Forever. No one’s ever gonna take me away from you.”

Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, your clit rubbing against his hard, muscular body as he drove into you. His pace quickened, and you looked up at him, heart racing at the sight. His disheveled hair fell into his half-lidded, pretty eyes, his lips flushed and parted, groaning your name over and over like a chant, like he was worshiping you.

Your own lips parted in a moan, his name spilling from you like a prayer, like he was your priest, the only one you could ever confess to. The pleasure built inside you with every thrust, his body, his touch, his words claiming you completely. He wasn’t just fucking you, he was worshiping you, and in that moment, you were lost to him, praying with every moan, every cry of his name.

Nicholas could feel how close you were, your breath quickened, your moans growing louder, and your pussy gripped him like a vice. His eyes darkened with desire as he watched the way your body reacted to his every thrust. His cock throbbed inside you, and with a low, husky voice, he rasped, “You’re so beautiful, baby. You’ll look even more beautiful cumming on my cock while I’m fucking you like this.”

His words ignited the fire inside you, pushing you past the brink. With a sharp cry, your orgasm crashed through you, and your body trembled uncontrollably. Your pussy tightened around him, squeezing him as you came hard, your walls pulsating and clenching around his thick cock. He groaned deeply, feeling every spasm as you drenched him, but he didn’t let up. He kept thrusting, his pace relentless, pushing you through the waves of pleasure, letting you ride it out fully.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he growled through clenched teeth, still lost in the tightness of your body. His hands gripped your hips tightly, feeling your warmth and the way your pussy gripped him like you never wanted to let go. He thrusted in harder, determined to give you more, to show you just how much you drove him crazy.

His own release was building fast, but he held back just long enough to murmur against your ear, “It’s my turn now. And you know what I want.”

Without hesitation, you arched your back for him, pressing your ass high in the air, presenting yourself to him as he moved behind you. Nicholas positioned himself between your legs, guiding his cock back inside you with one swift, hard thrust. You moaned at the feeling of being filled up again, his cock stretching you as he pounded into you from behind.

His grip tightened around your waist, and each thrust was more powerful than the last. His hands occasionally left your hips to deliver firm slaps to your ass, the sound of his hands meeting your skin echoing in the room. “God, look at you,” he growled, his voice low and thick with lust. “So fucking sexy. And this ass, so fucking perfect.”

You glanced back at him, your half-lidded eyes catching sight of his toned, muscular body—his abs flexing with every thrust, his biceps bulging as he held you in place. His messy hair framed his chiseled face, and the raw look of pleasure etched into his expression was enough to make you moan his name all over again, lost in the sight of him.

The pleasure built quickly inside you once more, your pussy gripping his cock tighter, squeezing him as another wave of pleasure started to overtake you. Nicholas could feel it too, his cock throbbing inside of you as he growled low in his throat. “I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strained. “I’m close, baby.”

You were desperate, your voice needy as you begged, “Please, Nick, cum inside me. I want it. Fill me up.”

He hesitated, smirking as he slowed his pace for just a moment. “I can’t hear you,” he teased. “You’re gonna have to say that louder, baby.”

Your desperation heightened, and you practically screamed it this time. “Cum inside me, Nick! I need it! Please!”

With a deep, guttural groan, he slammed into you one final time, holding you close as his cock pulsed inside you, releasing thick, hot spurts of cum deep within you. He moaned your name as he came, his hands gripping your hips tightly, pressing you against him as he filled you up. He didn’t pull out right away, instead, he relished the feeling of being inside you, his cock still throbbing, every muscle in his body tense as he savored the moment.

Before you could catch your breath, he swiftly flipped you over, pulling you on top of him. His cock was still buried deep inside your pussy as he shifted the position, thrusting up into you gently now, making sure you squeezed every last drop of his cum out. You whimpered softly, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your pussy gripping him as he guided your hips slowly.

Nicholas gazed up at you, his hands tender now, caressing your waist as he whispered between kisses. “My baby. You’re so fucking beautiful. I love you so much.”

You leaned down to kiss him softly, your heart swelling at his words. “I love you too,” you murmured, your voice tired but full of affection.

Nicholas kissed your forehead and whispered against your skin, “I’m so happy my career’s taking off, and no matter what, you’ll always be by my side, and I’ll take care of you every step of the way. You deserve the world.”

You smiled softly, resting your head on his chest as he moved to get up. “Wait,” you said, stopping him. “Don’t go. I just want to stay like this, with you inside me, and I wanna listen your heartbeat.”

He grinned, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close again. “Okay, baby. Whatever you want.” He kissed the top of your head and settled back, letting you rest against his chest, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear as you both drifted off into a peaceful, satisfied slumber, completely wrapped in each other.

[spider-stark]

SWORN PROTECTOR

Criston Cole x Targaryen!Reader

Summary - After sneaking back into the Keep from a night spent out in the city, you find your sworn protector, Ser Criston Cole, waiting for you in your room.

Warnings - fem!reader, targtower!reader, not edited, reader has mommy/daddy issues, duty turned devotion type bullshit, criston can't just guard a woman without falling in love ig, yearning

Word Count - 2k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

Soft footfalls echo in the narrow corridor of Maegor’s passages. You keep a palm cupped around the candle in your other hand, protecting the flame so it won’t gutter out. Secret doors are scattered throughout the corridor, each leading into bedchambers or solars or other forgotten passages. Having already left your brother, Aegon, at the secret door leading to his room, you keep count of your steps. 

One, two; seven, eight; thirteen, fourteen; twenty, twenty-one.

At just over twenty-five paces, the exact distance between his room and yours, you stop, turn to the left and blow your candle out, setting it on the ground for next time you go sneaking through to passages. 

Cold stone bites at your palms as you press them against the aged door. You cringe with every scrape and groan as you push it open. When there’s a gap just wide-enough, you turn sideways and shimmy inside. 

You’re greeted by warm light, candles flickering from all around your room, chasing the shadows of dusk into faraway corners. If you weren’t so preoccupied with heaving the door back into place, adjusting the tapestry that hides its seams from view, you may have noticed that there are more candles lit now than when you slipped out earlier, having abandoned the Keep in favor of a night spent in the city lying below Aegon’s High Hill. 

When all is as it was, the secret door shut and covered, you turn around. Heaving a sigh, you shrug your cloak from your shoulders, letting it fall into a heap on the floor. Gooseflesh immediately forms along your arms, kissed by the chill breeze blowing in from the open balcony. 

You walk to the vanity on the far side of your room, rolling your neck and shoulders, muscles sore from hours spent dancing among the smallfolk in a Flea Bottom tavern. Exhaustions made your bones weary, fantasies of crawling into warm sheets plague your mind. They tempt you, urging you to forego your nightly routine in favor of sweet, sweet sleep. 

Your footsteps falter, casting a wistful glance down your shoulder to your bed when—

Seven Hells! 

Your pulse jumps, a scream threatens to rip from your throat at the sight of a figure sat on the foot of your bed. You react quickly, clamping a hand over your mouth to muffle any sound, not wanting to raise alarm amongst the guards. Recognition washes over you in a matter of seconds, taking them in one detail at a time: their weathered boots and polished armor, tanned skin and ever-present frown. 

Lowering your hand, you have half a mind to curse Criston for frightening you like this, for not announcing himself as soon as you snuck in—

Rational thought trumps what remains of fear. 

He had to have seen you—sneaking in from the passages, hiding the door upon entrance. 

Fuck. 

The air turns thick. Every breath is like sucking treacle into your lungs, slow and suffocating. Criston’s stare is heavy, his expression like weathered stone. Armor grinds against itself as his arms cross over his chest. “Where have you been?” 

There’s some relief that he doesn’t first question you about the passages. Does he already know about them, you wonder? After all, before Criston became your protector, he was sworn to your half-sister, Rhaenyra—who, in your youth, was said to be quite rebellious. 

A trait Criston finds to be alive and well within you. 

You look away from him, continuing to your vanity. “I was out,” you answer, purposefully curt. “Obviously.” 

Nudging the vanity stool with your foot, you take a seat upon its plush velvet cushion. Criston pushes off your bed, and you fight a smirk at the sound of his footfalls, heavy and fervent as he strides to your side. 

“Out where?” 

You pull your neatly plaited hair over your shoulder, watching yourself in the mirror as you untie the ribbon binding it. “In the city,” you tell him, tossing the scrap of silk onto the vanity top. “Where else would I go?” 

“Were you alone?” 

You reach for your brush, begin combing. “What does it matter?” Before he can answer, you catch his gaze in the reflection, eyes playfully narrowing as you ask, “If I said that I wasn’t, would you be jealous, Ser Criston?” 

He certainly looks jealous. 

The knight’s breathing is shallow, tanned cheeks flush with frustration. At your question, a muscle feathers in his jaw, clenched so tight that you can nearly hear his teeth grind together. There’s a dark gleam in his eyes, a shadow of rage—not at you, you don’t think. But at whoever may have been graced with your presence tonight, showered with your favor and affection. 

“As your sworn protector,” Criston says, voice strained, “I have a right to ask if you were escorted by another member of the Kingsguard.” 

There’s such emotion in it—the way he said: Your sworn protector. A trembling betrays his fraying restraint, revealing the raw nerve beneath and exposing Criston’s desperation, a desire to not only be sworn to you, but to be wholly possessed by you. 

Your sworn protector—no longer a title, but an identity. 

Your sworn protector—no longer an oath, but a sacred devotion. 

You set your brush down, holding his stare with a faint smirk. “I’m afraid that doesn’t answer my question, Ser.” 

Something snaps. His mouth twists into a scowl. 

“Are you truly so thoughtless, princess?” Criston asks, his tone maintaining a delicate balance between respect and disappointment. “Do you understand it’s your very life you play with? And that it’s not only you who would suffer the consequences of this… this utter lack of duty! This wanton negligence!” 

You could have him dismissed from the Kingsguard for this. 

For speaking so freely. For interrogating a princess. For trespassing in your rooms. 

Criston continues, “If something were to happen to you, my life is forfeit. The king would–” 

He’s interrupted by wood screeching against stone, the vanity stool thrust back as you rise to your feet. You turn to stand toe-to-toe with the knight, chin tilted to lock eyes with him. “The king,” you hiss with a sickly smile, contradicting the venom in your voice, “would do nothing—just as he’s done all my life.” 

The energy shifts. Criston’s scowl morphs to a pitying frown. 

“He is your father,” his protest is a tentative breath, laced with underlying uncertainty, “if something happened to you, he would seek justice.” 

You laugh, low and bitter. Shake your head and shove past the knight. “If he mistook me for Rhaenyra, perhaps,” you say, kicking off your shoes as you head to the wardrobe next to your bed. “If not, then I imagine he wouldn’t even notice I’m gone. My life—the lives of my siblings—has never meant anything to him.” 

Criston redirects, facing you now. He argues, “It means something to your mother.”—And to me, he holds back. 

A scoff, throwing the wardrobe open. 

Your mother loves you, of course—but it’s the kind of love that hurts. It’s cold distance and piercing scrutiny, violent words and stinging cheeks. If you were to die, she would certainly mourn. But it won’t change that she failed you. It won’t make her a good mother. 

When you don’t respond, mindlessly digging through a drawer of nightgowns, Criston knows better than to broach that particular topic any further. 

With a hesitant breath, he says, “It’s my duty to protect you. To keep you safe.” He takes several steps, decreasing the distance between you by coming to stand at the foot of your bed. You stay facing the wardrobe. “It’s true that I cannot tell you what to do—if you wish to fraternize with common-men—” such distaste laces this word—“then that is your will.” 

There’s a pause. Your hands falter, swathed in a mess of silky fabric as you wait for him to continue. 

“I only ask that you heed caution, princess. For you to allow me to accompany you and do my job—to safeguard your life, your virtue-”

Genuine amusement floods your chest. It spills from your lips in a string of vivacious giggles. “Is that what this is about, Ser Criston? My virtue?” You settle on a nightgown, turn around and toss it onto your bed. You glance to the foot of it, at Criston and his ever-present frown. “You truly are a jealous man,” you muse, smiling, “aren’t you? Thinking I go into the city to fuck common-men.” 

His fists tighten at his sides, the blatant mockery in your voice having invited a wave of embarrassment. 

“It was not my intention to imply that—” 

The words catch in Criston’s throat as you turn the opposite way, slip your shirt over your head and shimmy out of your trousers, leaving the smallclothes beneath. All he can see is your back—the smooth column of your spine, brushed by tendrils of long, silver hair—but that’s enough. 

Enough to make his heart jolt, hammer against his ribcage. Enough to make his knees weak, threaten to buckle beneath his weight. Enough to light a fire inside him, flames licking at every inch of his skin. 

Grasping at the final shreds of his restraint, Criston averts his gaze to the floor. 

He swallows on a too-dry throat. “King’s Landing is full of vile men, princess,” he tells you, a sense of guilt pricking at his conscience. “And vile men are known to commit vile acts.” 

You reach out an arm, grab the nightgown and pull it over your head. Silk glides over your skin, covering the exposed flesh that tempts the knight so. 

Whirling to face him, you ask, “And what about you?” 

Criston doesn’t answer, still studying the rug beneath his feet with a staggering intensity. You catch his brow furrow, though, a small wrinkle forming there. You elaborate on your question. 

“You’re a man in King’s Landing,” you tell him, leisurely placing one foot in front of the other, gliding to where he stands at the end of your bed. “Are you as vile as the rest of them, Ser Criston?” 

Again, only silence. 

You take another step. Less than a foot of space separates you, close enough now to scent the earthy musk of his armor. “Some might think it vile,” you continue, taunting him, “for you to be here right now—hiding in my bedchambers well after dark.” 

Criston stammers, his words broken-up by serrated breaths, “I merely wished to know that you were safe, princess.” Dark eyes flutter up from the floor, drawn to yours. “My intentions were pure.” 

“Were?” 

His blood thrums. His lungs ache. 

You continue, “Do you mean your intentions have changed, Ser Criston?” 

Criston tells the truth. “No.” With you, his intentions are always pure. It’s his desires that complicate things. “My intentions are the same,” he tells you, clearing his throat, “I only wish to know you’re safe. That you’re well-protected.” 

Your mistrust in his answer is evident. Lips pursed, your eyes scan his face, searching for something. At this moment, he feels every bit like prey. A cornered animal trapped beneath the searing gaze of a dragon, left entirely at your mercy. 

A part of him is terrified. Another, utterly entranced.

Finally, you click your tongue. Reaching out a hand, you place it against his chest. His gaze falls, staring at where your palm is pressed to his armor. He wonders how it might feel against his skin. “You’re an honorable knight, Ser Criston,” you tell him, smiling. “A good man, too.” 

Criston doesn’t remember the need for oxygen until your touch falls away. 

Turning your back to him again, you stride back around your bed, pull the blankets back, and sit on the edge of your mattress. His mind is still reeling when you next speak.

“I was with Aegon.” 

Criston blinks. “What?” 

“You asked if I was alone,” you say, reminiscing on his earlier question, “I wasn’t. I was with Aegon—who was accompanied by Ser Erryk.” Sliding your legs beneath the blankets, you lean back against a stack of plush pillows. “So I was well-protected from those vile men you speak of.” Chewing on your lip, fighting a wider grin, you add, “I just thought you might like to know—despite how unjealous you are.”  

Criston’s own lips twitch, curving upwards. 

“Good,” he says, a bit awkward. Then: “And about that secret door…” 

You groan, tossing your head back against the pillows. Criston softly chuckle, another lecture already poised on the tip of his tongue. 

It’s going to be a long night.

a/n - idk man. I randomly decided at 8pm that I needed to write 2k words about this man after never writing for him a day in my life, and this is the product of that. any and all feedback is welcome and much appreciated!

[ma1dita]

a wish your heart makes

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.4k

summary: (established relationship) The one where you share dreams, burn cookies, and it still reminds him of home. You try to do something nice for your boyfriend and everything goes wrong, or so you think. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: I thought about May Castellan, alone in her kitchen, baking cookies and making sandwiches for a son who would never come ho—OH FUCK OFF, UNCLE RICK. sidenote this haunted me.

(posted 1/26/24 unbetad)

—

Luke’s dreams were always different from yours. 

Both when he’s awake and holding your hand up until sleep finally rips him away from your earthly embrace, he’s always been certain of who he was and what he wants to achieve. To be a hero providing salvation for the needy, to be a half-blood son worth the love of a god, and to be a fierce soldier, leading his troop into battle for glory. These are the thoughts he routinely pounds into his brain, so much so that anyone who knows him knows of his aspirations.

You don’t think you’ve ever met anyone so insistent on wanting to be remembered. Luke wants to leave a legacy worth dying for, worth talking about for millenia to come. And your boy persists, despite the trials of life, the ignorance of his father, and the strings of the Fates.

Your dreams, however, were always much simpler. 

Cuddled under your covers and brushing your lips against Luke’s forehead to quell the growing unease that occupies his brain, you whisper what you deeply wish for.

“We’re getting old,” you mumble, and the breath of his laugh tickles your ear. He lazily runs his nose against the slope of your collarbone, sighing when he finally hears the steady beat of your chest, “We’ve definitely surpassed the average life expectancy of a typical demigod. Look at us…” he jests.

Your breath jumps in amusement as you feel his lips against your sternum, and then your boyfriend is smiling against your heart, using you for comfort as you both pass the time waiting for Hypnos to come calling.

“In a year, we’ll be nineteen…And I know you never wanted to stay here forever, so… What’s next?”

You hold in a bated breath, always unsure of where to place yourself in rank of his priorities. Who were you if not his biggest supporter?

Luke contemplates for a moment in the silence of your bedroom. It’s much easier to think and have more adult… conversations… without the many meddling children of cabin 11 always asking for one more lullaby, one more glass of water, and one more tuck-in goodnight. Here in the privacy of your room, he gets to be a boy void of his responsibilities besides hiding under his girlfriend’s duvet, giving her another shirt of his to wear, and kissing her until Apollo’s rays of light gently help you wake.

“You tell me, Trouble. What does the future have in store for us?”

Us.

He’s sweet to indulge in your fantasies like this, and you stroke your fingers through his curls as you speak, ‘I think it’d be nice to go to college. Made it this far, so maybe being normal won’t be so hard…”

A soft noise leaves his throat, urging you to continue as you bite your lip and smile.

“Maybe someday, we could get a house. One on top of a hill. I don’t need much, something like the Big House, but one we can call home.”

You can feel the teeth of his sleepy grin against your skin as he whispers the next words into your heart.

“We could do that. House with big bay windows, and the smell of my mom’s chocolate chip cookies in the air. Sounds nice, baby.”

And it does.

Luke’s eyes flutter shut shortly after, but your mind is awake with how to make the dream you now share a reality. Perhaps you couldn’t give him glory, or pray hard enough to Hermes so that he’d talk to his son, but you reckon that chocolate chip cookies would be easy enough. 

—

At least, it was supposed to be—until you set off the smoke alarm again.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” 

Clouds of grey are billowing from the communal kitchen oven after your multiple attempts of trying to get this right. The dryads had both partially given up on the havoc you wrecked upon their workspace as well as your increasing frustration towards them. It wasn’t their fault, you knew that—but as a perfectionist who followed the recipe to a t, how was it possible that everything was still going wrong? The first batch, you got too excited and mixed all the ingredients together, making them lumpy and inconsistent. The second batch was over-creamed, and you had to scrape them off the tray, and with this one… well you had the oven setting on a bit too high.

You sigh deeply, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes as you try to will away the mania creeping up your neck. Being the daughter of the god of insanity was hard, having to consistently control your emotions for the sake of others. Taking a shaky breath, you stare blankly at the darkened cookies, close to being burned to a crisp. The jingle of the windchime against the door rings across the room and you barely hear it until you feel Luke’s hands skate past your waist to go open a window.

“What’d you get into now, Trouble? Been looking for you,” he says, coughing lightly from the smoke.

You groan, trying to cover the mess behind you on the counter and accidentally catching your arm on the hot tray, making you flinch.

“Ow! Ugh, babe, you’re not supposed to be here yet! I thought you were still sparring…”

Your boyfriend approaches you, squeezing your arm to examine if you’ve gotten hurt and tugging you towards him.

“That was an hour ago—how long have you been here, baby?” Luke pulls you into his arms, placing a kiss on your warm wrist, instantly soothing your anxiety until you see his eyes meet your latest failure.

“You bake now?”

“Clearly not, Luke, I’m sorry…I tried but I kept getting it wrong and then I got mad at myself for fucking up something so…” your voice weakens, tears welling in your eyes again thinking you’ve disappointed him.

Luke steps away from you and towards the kitchen counter, warm cookies browned to a crisp. He reaches out to pick one up before you can stop him, crunching down on it, the bittersweet taste filling his mouth as he sniffs.

Just like his mother would make them, through her madness and all.

He’s transported back to a memory of a house with big bay windows, kind of like the one you two dreamt up last night, but he’s nine and sitting at the kitchen table drinking Kool-Aid while his mom makes peanut butter sandwiches. May Castellan forgets the cookies in the oven again, and for a moment, Luke forgets that the last time he saw his mother was a lifetime ago. 

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels your fingertips brushing away the saltwater from his cheeks.

“Didn’t mean to make you cry, angelface, I’m sorry…” you mumble, but stop speaking when you see him take another bite.

“They’re great.”

“What?”

He chomps on another singed cookie, his lips quirking into a soft smile. Luke’s not going to let you throw the rest of this batch out. Chuckling weakly, he lifts you onto the kitchen counter as he slots himself between your legs, rough hands patting your thighs.

“Well, they’re not great. But they’re perfect. Just the way I remember them,” he smiles, kissing the furrow in your brow. You don’t bother trying to comprehend his statement, happy that you didn’t mess up a memory he holds dear. 

Luke wonders if maybe he’s been blessed by his father after all, to have such extreme luck to exist at the same time as you. He doesn’t answer to the gods, to fate, but he does answer when you call his name, and settles into your arms. Love is an action after all, uncontained by just words, and he knows you tried your best, which makes it more than enough.

“She would’ve loved you, I’m sure of it,” he says rubbing his nose against yours before you can interject again, “I love you, so I know she would’ve too.”

Luke presses a tender kiss against the palm that caresses his jaw, before meeting you in the middle and finding your lips. It’s a dance you two have memorized, sweet and breathless as you meld both of your grins together. To him, you taste like chocolate chips and feel like home.

“I love you too, angelface. Almost burned the kitchen down for you,” your chuckle is cut off when he goes to press against your pout again hungrily, tracing patterns against the soft skin of your thighs as he just eats you up. The sound of your moans escapes between kisses as you wind your legs around his waist and it dampens the sound of the kitchen timer when it goes off. 

(You forcibly have to detach from Luke’s embrace, much to his displeasure so that you don’t burn the next batch too.)

—

"Your name is humming inside my chest. I think this is what it means to love. I think this is what it means to be living." -Emma Bleker

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

[absurdthirst]

Don’t Thank Me {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

He should terrify you. There’s violence in his nature, in his blood. You should be shrinking away from him, from any man, but you don’t.

Watching as the cold water from the river washes over his hand. Clouding the clear liquid with blood and swirling it around his open wounds as they seep before the current carries it away. The quiet hiss barely noticeable except for the fact that it’s quiet. There’s not even the hum of insects or birds to cover the sound.

His hand is obviously broke, swollen already. Much like the mangled and unrecognizable face of the man he had beaten to death. Skull cracked and face caved in, you had witness pure rage as he had driven his fist into the man’s face again and again. Unchecked until he was panting and exhausted. His arm heavy as he lifted it one last time before the squelching sounds of meaty goo registered. The limp body beneath him having given up the fight minutes before he was done with his attack.

He’s a stranger to you. This unknown savior who had snatched you away from another day of torment. Another few hours where you just closed your eyes and wished you would die. You hadn’t even known he was there until the man he had just turned into mush had been ripped away from you and you could scramble for the shredded remains of your clothes.

You should have run. Should have seized the moment to escape, although where you would have gone is still in question. You hadn’t. Rooted to the ground while you watched with morbid fascination as this knight in rough denim had carried out the fantasy that has kept you going. Delivered with far more skill and precision than you would have ever been capable of.

Shifting, you catch his attention. Dark eyes, expressive and wary fixed on you. His brow furrowed, as if he’s surprised that you are still here. Or maybe that you are even here at all. He had been so focused on his target, he could have never even known you existed.

The scruff on his face has grey threaded through it, like his hair. His face lined with the years, but he’s not old. No one is old now. Shoulder tense and you know that he would jump if you moved the wrong way so you wrap your arms around yourself protectively.

“T-thank you.” You manage to choke out, shuddering out a breath of relief and tears start to pool in your eyes. You’re safe, you’re free from that bastard.

The man, who you would later learn is Joel Miller, looks down at his hand and then back at you. “Don’t thank me.” He grunts, his voice raspy and rough, soothing in a weird way. “Didn’t do it for you.” He tells you, nodding his head and shifting his eyes to something behind you. “Did it for her.”

Turning around, you a girl, a teenager with a black eye and busted lip. She can’t be more than fifteen but you see that her eyes are weary, like she’s one hundred. “I’m Ellie.” She tells you with a grim smile. “And that asshole is Joel.”

[angel-sweets666]

put me down!!

Barbarian bakugo x dragon kirishima x village reader one shot

a couple of village looters came and stole all the gold and valuables from your village. Now they stole you to go ontop of it.

Warning : violence, swearing (it’s mostly fluff Dw) toxic relationship at first

a/n can you really tell that I like writing this whole fantasy thing with mha? No? Okay then I’ll write more. I really wanted to play around with the Poly relationship idea because Ik there’s people who would like that. Hope you enjoy!

CRASH.

The screams of your peers rang in your ears as you trembled under the table in your modest cottage. Another distant scream, this time from a woman, was drowned out by the sound of things being thrown. You peered out from under the tablecloth, a loud thud came from your door. Oh god, they're in your house. They’re going to kill you too.

“I don’t see anyone.”

“I don’t see anything of value either, Kiri.”

Two male voices spoke while looking around your once peaceful home. You tried to crawl further under the table. Unfortunately, the sounds of your palms against the stone floor brought their attention. The loud thuds of boots came closer and closer.

“If there’s someone in there, don’t hurt them!” one of the voices exclaimed.

A large hand ripped the tablecloth off the table. The men could now see your trembling form underneath.

“I WON’T SAY OR DO ANYTHING, PLEASE DON’T HURT ME! I’M BEGGING YOU!” you screamed as the blonde man grabbed your arm and pulled you out from under the table.

“Relax, we’re not gonna hurt ya! We’re looting the city,” he grumbled, pulling you to stand on your feet.

“Wow! First actually attractive person in this whole city!” the red-headed man grinned. He looked like one of those dragon people you had seen and heard about in the stories and books your grandparents used to read.

“W-what are you guys… you’re not like murderers, are you? Like axe murderers?” you whimpered.

Suddenly, another crash boomed in the city. You screamed in surprise and covered your head with your hands. The two men looked at each other, nodded, then looked back at you. You were suddenly dragged out of your hut by the arm, all while screaming.

“Shut up! The more you scream, the more we’ll regret this!” the blonde grumbled and tossed you over his shoulder.

Suddenly, the once regular red-headed guy turned into a massive dragon. You went silent out of fear as the blonde climbed onto his back.

“Nope, nope, put me down!” you screamed.

“Do you want me to throw you off the dragon as he’s taking off? Because that’s gotta hurt!” the blonde exclaimed as the dragon began to lift off the ground.

“At least let me sit normally!” you cried.

The blonde man lifted you off his shoulder and placed you in front of him on the saddle that sat on the dragon’s neck. You whimpered as the village you once knew to be home grew further and further away in the distance.

“Why me? Why are you taking me?” you gripped onto the blonde’s pants.

“Because we took you, now shut up!” he groaned and leaned to talk to the dragon.

The dragon began to land about two hours later. You were scared out of your mind and, to be frank, you desperately wanted to go home, which was probably up in flames right now. The blonde man, who you discovered during the ride was named Bakugo Katsuki, placed you on the ground after getting off the dragon’s back himself. The dragon transformed into a 6ft tall man, stretching his back with a groan.

“We are never flying that far again. My back hurts,” he groaned.

You learned on the way to his den that his name was Kirishima. As you looked around the unfamiliar surroundings, a new wave of fear washed over you. Where were they taking you? What did they want with you? Your heart raced as you considered your options. Running away seemed impossible with these two powerful men.

Bakugo noticed your fear and sighed, "Look, we’re not going to hurt you. You’re safe with us for now."

"Why should I believe you?" you whispered, your voice trembling.

Kirishima stepped closer, his expression softening, "We’re not the monsters you think we are. We have our reasons for doing this. You’ll understand soon enough."

With no other choice you walked with them up the hill towards a cave, which no doubt was their den. “Why are you taking me…?” You asked weakly, tired from the ride “we uh.. just wanted…. A Uhm…” kirishima sighed “we wanted an extra person around.” He lied, not being able to say that him and bakugo were getting bored of each other and just wanted some sort of other person around, because to tell you that would’ve made you realise their just using you.

you looked down at the ground as kirishima and bakugo pushed open the entrance to their den, the red headed one grabbed your shoulder and pulled you inside, all though he was gentle with it unlike his blonde counterpart. They closed the den and you were in awe.

Bakugo and Kirishima's den was a hidden sanctuary nestled in a secluded glen, with an entrance concealed by ivy and foliage. Inside, the spacious main chamber was lit by torches, featuring rugged stone walls adorned with weapons and trophies, a central hearth, and a cozy living area filled with scavenged furniture and eclectic treasures

“Did you steal.. all of this…?” You turned to look at them “yep!” Kirishima grinned proudly “took fuckin ages” bakugo grumbled

As the days passed in Bakugo and Kirishima's den, you found yourself gradually adjusting to the peculiar rhythm of your new life. The initial terror and confusion were slowly replaced by a cautious curiosity, though the fear never entirely dissipated. Bakugo, with his brash demeanor, and Kirishima, with his unexpected warmth, created an environment that was as unpredictable as it was intriguing.

One evening, after another day spent in their hidden sanctuary, Bakugo and Kirishima sat you down near the hearth. The fire's warm glow danced on their faces, casting soft shadows and creating an almost intimate atmosphere.

"We need to talk," Bakugo began, his voice gruff but not unkind. "About why we brought you here."

Kirishima nodded, his red eyes reflecting the firelight. "We’ve been together for a long time, and while we’ve got a good thing going, we wanted to… spice things up a bit."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened, unsure of what they were leading up to.

"We’ve seen a lot of people in the villages we loot," Bakugo continued, his gaze intense. "But none of them caught our eye like you did."

Kirishima reached out and gently took your hand, his touch surprisingly tender. "We want you to be with us. Not just as a captive, but as a partner. We know this is a lot to take in, but we think you could make our lives… more complete."

You looked between the two of them, trying to process their words. "You want me to be… your lover?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bakugo smirked, a rare softness in his eyes. "Yeah. We know it sounds crazy, but give us a chance. Let us show you that this can work."

Over the next few days, their attempts to win you over became more apparent. Kirishima often cooked for you, his meals surprisingly delicious and comforting. He would sit with you, talking about his adventures and making you laugh with his stories. Bakugo, on the other hand, showed his care in more subtle ways. He made sure you were safe, his protective nature a constant presence. He even began to teach you how to defend yourself, his usually harsh training methods tempered with patience and encouragement.

One night, after a particularly exhausting training session, Bakugo handed you a small, intricately carved wooden figure. "Made this for you," he muttered, almost embarrassed. "Thought you might like it."

You took the figure in your hands, marveling at the craftsmanship. It was a tiny dragon, its wings outstretched in a graceful pose, every scale meticulously detailed. "Bakugo, this is... incredible. Thank you," you said, looking up at him with genuine appreciation.

He shrugged, trying to downplay his efforts. "It's nothing. Just figured you might need something to remind you that you're not alone here."

Kirishima, who had been watching from a distance, approached with a smile. "He's got a knack for these things, doesn't he? Always knew there was a soft side to you, Bakugo."

"Shut it, Kirishima," Bakugo grumbled, but there was no real anger in his voice.

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself increasingly drawn to the two men. Their rough edges and fiery tempers were balanced by moments of surprising gentleness

One night, as the three of you sat by the fire, Kirishima looked at you with a hopeful smile. "So, what do you think? Could you see yourself staying with us, not because you have to, but because you want to?"

You took a deep breath, your heart full of conflicting emotions. "I… I think I could. But this is all so new to me. I'll need time."

Bakugo nodded, his expression softening. "Take all the time you need. We're not going anywhere." He grumbled with his usual deep voice

Kirishima squeezed your hand, his smile widening. "We’ll wait for as long as it takes. Just know that we want you here, with us."

that night was…. Awkward. You laid in bed with them as bakugo and kirishima snored… they seemed nice.. maybe you could get used to them

[gh0stsp1d3r]

idk if you’re familiar with teen wolf but could i request a fic with loser!Luke who’s similar to Stiles stilinski and aphrodite!reader is similar to lydia. No one sees that reader is more than a pretty cabin 10 girl and idk i think it would be cute if luke recreates the “hi y/n, you look…like you’re gonna ignore me” ugh loser!luke just gives me too much in my feelings

𝒫ℴ𝓅𝓊𝓁𝒶𝓇

I LOVE LOSER LUKE AND TEEN WOLF AHHH

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Has she even looked your way?” Chris asked, listening to his brother's fantasies. The two walked through the woods, bags slung over their shoulders.

“A few times. She talks to me when we spar.” He shrugged, “and when we check cabins together.”

“Mmm… right, and in those few times she’s become interested in you? You have to make some sort of effort.”

“Why wouldn’t she be?” He joked; Chris chuckled.

“Because she’s Aphrodite’s favorite, she’s the most popular girl at camp, almost every guy wants to be with her, and every girl admires her. She beats you in sword fighting from time to time and she’s a God at archery.”

“I still gotta chance. And she does not beat me in sword fighting.” He shrugged, a small smile on his face.

“Mhm..”

He nudged Chris and asked him, “what about you? You got your eyes on anyone?”

“Nah.” He shook his head.

The two continued chatting and walking, when Luke saw someone coming up quickly in the corner of his eye.

Chris nudged him this time, raising his eyebrows.

“Hey y/n, you look…” Luke began to say, but you just walked past him, not acknowledging him.

“Like you’re gonna ignore me.” He mumbled to himself, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment as Chris laughed at him.

“Shut up.” He groaned, rolling his eyes at Chris.

And it was just his luck that you were heading to the same spot as him.

The ocean was a common spot for campers to get away and escape. It was a long walk there but it was worth it, it was beautiful and it was quiet.

But today was Sunday, most kids would be having fun with their friends and taking this day off. You were heading there to practice.

Soon, they had reached it and they saw you already there, ready with your bow in hand. There was a few targets on the trees. They watched you, looking like dears in headlights when you turned to look at them.

“Can I help you..?” You asked them, slightly annoyed.

“No. No. Sorry.” Chris said, grabbing Luke’s arm and dragging him as far as possible and onto the sand.

“She’s so…” he mumbled to himself, as he took off his shirt and turned back to face you. He took off his jeans, his shorts underneath.

You furrowed an eyebrow as you saw him, he messed up your shot as you turned to look at him. Jesus, he was ripped. You thought.

“You have it bad, you know that? She’s not even using charmspeak.” Chris replied. “Turn back around, you look creepy.”

Luke obliged, turning to look at Chris now as he took off his own shirt and jeans, his swimming shorts underneath.

The two raced to the water, jumping in. Luke had won, the two laughing.

You focused on your shooting, however. Trying your best to ignore the pair. They swam around, racing each other while talking loudly. They then sat down on the sand, shaking their heads and wet curls.

You sat down against a tree, downing your water. Chris began talking but Luke wasn't listening. He watched you, and Chris smirked at him.

"Go talk to her."

"What?" he asked, as if it was the craziest thing he's ever heard.

"Go talk to her, man."

"About what?"

"Just talk to her." he shrugged, softly pushing Luke.

"Alright, alright." He said, standing up. and slowly walking towards you. You glanced at him, and he gave you a small smile and sat next to you. You took in a deep breath.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi..."

Now that you were looking at him more closely, he wasn't bad looking, not at all.

"It's uh, y/n, right?"

You nodded. But you knew that he already knew that. "Its Luke, isn't it?"

Holy shit you knew his name. He was trying to contain a smile, his heart raced. He nodded slowly, and you laughed quietly as you noticed him staring at you.

"Well? Did you need something or just my name, gorgeous?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat, and his eyes went wide. Oh my God, you called him gorgeous. He didn't know what to say. You smiled and tilted your head at him, waiting on a response.

"No, sorry." He cleared his throat. "Just... Yeah, I'm gonna go, it was nice talking to you." He said, standing up, and almost tripping as he ran back to Chris.

What an interesting boy, you thought to yourself as you stared at him, and when he turned back you gave him a small smile, a pink tint on his face.

[saetoru]

So tell us how the first kiss goes between y/n and suguru in rich! boyverse 🙏🏼

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。IF ONLY — GETO SUGURU. (rich boy! au)

based on this — disclaimer: this is a side au! to rb! gojo but it’s not rly part of the “story.” it’s just for fun and builds off the au, but you may disregard it !!

contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo + geto, reader is dating gojo, cheating (reader on gojo w geto), mutual pining, a make out kiss ; notes. uh….it’s here guys. the first installment of mr. geto “steal your girl” suguru. we have sinned the ultimate sin 🚶🏽‍♀️ rip satoru my babie </3

dating satoru should be enough—it was enough. but then suguru came along, and, well….suguru is magnetic.

his voice is that deep husk that sends shivers down your spine, his hair is long and frames his face so flawlessly, and when you catch a glimpse of his skin when his shirt rides up, you can’t help but think about the way he’s so defined. sharp, like he’s cut from stone, suguru is sculpted perfectly. satoru is everything you could have asked for….but suguru? he’s like a dream you didn’t think was a reality.

“hey,” he greets you sweetly as he opens his door, “you’re early. satoru hasn’t even left his house yet.”

early—you’re not early. you’re desperate. desperate to catch suguru alone. desperate to enjoy his company without feeling bad. desperate to stare at him while satoru isn’t there to notice. you didn’t come early by accident—you chose to be here before satoru.

“hi,” you grin, “you wound me suguru. don’t you wanna spend time with me?”

“i didn’t say that,” he chuckles, flicking your forehead affectionately.

suguru has always done that, he’s always been good at touching you in that casual way that’s so endearing and so dizzying—but it never crosses the line. his fingers tap against your forehead when he’s playful, and his hand steadies you on the elbow when you trip, and sometimes, he even hugs you with a squeeze that’s nothing more than friendly even though it makes your heart stop.

suguru is so alluring—and even when you have everything you need with satoru, you can’t help but want what you can’t have.

“i hope you got snacks because i require them,” you hum, sitting on island of his kitchen and swinging your legs back and forth.

“i did,” he snorts, “i got your favorite—”

he stops when he looks at you, has to pause and stare as you’re sat so casually in his home, looking so sweet and innocent and so, so pretty. you’ve always been pretty—you don’t even know it, how perfect you are. it makes you that much more desirable, makes him want to tell you every day until you believe him that you’re so god damn pretty.

and then he has to look away, has to ignore those thoughts that pop in his head about how it almost looks like you’re his, sat in his kitchen and asking for his snacks and smiling at his figure and seeking out his company. it almost feels like you’re his—almost.

so close, yet so painfully far.

it makes him a bad friend. he knows that—satoru has been glued to his side since he was a child. suguru doesn’t think there’s ever been a time he remembers without satoru, and he’s always liked it that way. loved it, in fact. satoru is a good best friend. the greatest, even. and he’s just as good of a boyfriend too—suguru should respect it, should put his head down and fight his demons and forget about his fantasies with you.

but then you pout as you whine, “gimme some, then. what’re you waiting for?”

“they’re for the movie,” he huffs, “don’t think i’ll share with you if you’re out of snacks before we finish the movie.”

“aw c’mon sugu,” you tease, giving him that dangerous smile of yours, “you’ll share with me, won’t you?”

yes. he’ll give you half of his soul if you asked. he’d carve out every bit of him to complete you if you needed him to, if you asked him to—he just needs you to ask. just once, he needs you to ask him.

“you’re a handful,” he mutters, “get your own snacks.” but he grabs a bag of chips from the pantry anyway, walks up to you and presses it to your hands. your fingers brush together as you reach—just at the tips, just barely for it to even count as a touch, but it makes you both still anyway.

he’s close. you can smell his cologne. he can smell your body wash. your fingers don’t pull away. his inch a little closer and feel your skin a little better. your face is close. his leans closer. and then you’re leaning in too—why are you leaning in? why aren’t you stopping? why isn’t he stopping?

and then it happens. his lips are on yours before you even realize it—you don’t even realize it, that’s the worst part. you don’t even register that you’re kissing suguru, your boyfriend’s best friend, the only one he has, because you’re so busy being lost in the feeling. his lips are warm, so soft and delicate and fuck, they’re a bit chapped and it only makes you want him more.

what other imperfections does he have? besides chapped lips, what else is there to discover? maybe his hair isn’t as soft when he hasn’t washed it after a few days. maybe his hands are a bit rough and calloused. maybe he has a scar or two from his childhood.

you don’t know, but you need to find out.

your hands are cupping his cheeks, making him lean into your mouth shakily, arms pulling you closer desperately. his arms are strong—they hold you tightly like you have nowhere else to go. and then when you take a chance as slip your fingers into his hair, to feel those strands you’ve only ever been able to stare at, he whines against your mouth.

like he wants more. like he needs more. like he’s always ever wanted more.

“c’mere,” he pants, “closer.”

you can’t help but listen. can’t help but lean closer and let him stand in between your legs as you’re sat on that damn kitchen island—you’ve kissed satoru against this same island. in secret. in a kiss or two you sneak when suguru doesn’t look. in a hopeless daze of want and need that always turns into more as soon as you’re both in private.

and now you’re kissing suguru. and it’s not enough. you need more—you feel like you can’t live without more.

“suguru,” you murmur, just because you need to taste his name on your lips when they’re whispered like that—like he’s yours.

“yeah?” he breathes, forehead pressed to your as his lips hover over your mouth—his breath is shared with yours, breathing you in and exhaling you out so you can inhale him too.

your hands are back on his face, thumb tracing the skin of his cheek so gently, it almost hurts that he’s gone this long without feeling you.

“i just wanted to say that,” you mumble, pecking his lips softly. he hums happily, closing his eyes as he leans into your hand and smiles.

“yeah?” he chuckles, “say it again—”

“guys i’ve finally arrived! the answer to your prayers,” satoru calls, opening the front door from the distance, “i know you’re bored without me. don’t worry, i’m here now.”

you pull away faster than lighting when you hear satoru, like suguru’s touch is the spark that’ll kill you if you let it near. he steps away, watches in slow motion as you plaster that lovesick grin on your face as satoru walks in and leans in to kiss you so softly—so carefree, so openly. like you’re his. like you belong to him. like you’ve only ever wanted him.

does satoru even realize? does he even notice the dazed look on your face and the plumpness of your lips? does he even notice the way your breath is short and a little puffy?

“toru what took you so long,” you pinch satoru’s cheek, “i’ve been waiting for you.”

“missed me huh?” satoru wiggles his brows—giddy, he’s always so giddy to be around you, always so happy to have you as his.

satoru is so lucky—and the worst part? he realizes it too. he doesn’t take you for granted, doesn’t ever leave an opening for suguru to take.

“don’t get a big head,” you roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slots himself between your legs—right where suguru was just moments ago.

“yeah, satoru,” suguru says before he can help it, staring right into your eyes as he speaks, “don’t have a big head. what if we didn’t miss you?”

“don’t be mean suguru,” satoru pouts, “you always miss me.”

if only he knew, suguru thinks, if only.

OH GOD. I FEEL SO BAD. but i love it 🤭

[slut4thebroken]

sex pollen

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jason Todd × vigilante!reader

Summary | You tried to help Jason when something went wrong on patrol, but it didn’t go the way you thought it would.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, unprotected sex, breeding, non consensual sex technically, cause he doesn’t know she likes it, multiple orgasms, ruined orgasms, public sex, rough sex, sex pollen, I want him to rail me like this tbh, angst, fluff.

Words | 3.6k

Notes | Finally posting the fic from this post hehe. If anyone mentions how the quality gets worse after the smut ends, I’ll cry. That’s a threat. (Also imagine that gif is him pinning you against a wall lmao)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Jason?” You gasped as he used his body to press you against the dirty alley wall. Even through the suit his bulge was obvious. His helmet had been previously discarded and you shivered at the feeling of his breath against your lips. 

“Jason, what the hell are you doing?” You all but whimpered, making him growl and place a hand on your neck. 

“Stop fucking saying my name like that.” He hissed, pushing his hips harder into yours. Your breath hitched at the wild look in his eyes, the color almost completely gone. He squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his grip on your neck. The groan he released sounded pained and you wished you knew what was happening so you could help him. Suddenly ripping himself away from you, his hands went to his hair, pulling on the ends as he let out another pained moan. 

“Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me how to help.” You said softly, pushing yourself off the wall to grab his hands and remove them from his hair. He flinched away from your grip and took a step back. 

“Go.” He muttered, not looking at you. 

“What?”

“Go! I can’t- You…” His chest heaved as he tugged on his hair again. “You have to leave.” He gritted. 

“I’m not leaving you like this.” 

“I can’t control it! Please-” He cried. 

“Control what?” You took another step toward him and placed your hand on his cheek. His eyes snapped open and he roughly grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand off of his face. You stared at him in shock, not used to this behavior, and he squeezed his eyes shut as his grip tightened around your wrist, making you wince. When he opened them again, they were significantly darker. 

All of a sudden, he was doing a move he’s done to you a couple times during training, and you were flat on the floor in seconds. He turned you onto your stomach, then straddled your thighs, not being able to control the way his hips bucked forward, pushing his crotch against your ass. 

“Jason, what-“ As you tried to push yourself up, a strong hand pressed between your shoulder blades, forcing you back down with a grunt. He was rutting against your ass intentionally now, growling at the friction and pushing down on your back harder to make sure you couldn’t wriggle free. You could feel arousal pooling in your stomach from his behavior, not used to this side of him yet. 

You’ve been dating for a while now and while you are sexually active, so far you both have kept it pretty vanilla. You were scared he’d think you were disgusting or weird so you never talked about it. You only mentioned the more tame things like light bondage or choking, choosing to limit the hard kinks to your fantasies for when you’re alone. 

He quickly grew impatient and removed his hand as he shuffled down your legs just enough to have access to your ass. He took the skin tight fabric of your suit in both hands and ripped it apart, opening the entire crotch area. You let out a choked gasp that turned into a moan when he did the same thing with your underwear, ripping them in half so he had complete access. 

“Jason, what are you-“ A hand was on the back of your neck now, squeezing the sides and forcing your cheek into the dirty pavement. But you understood that it was a warning, so you stayed quiet, listening to fabric rustling behind you until you felt the blunt head of his cock against your folds. He didn’t bother teasing you like he normally would before breaching your hole with a low groan. You cried out, scrambling for purchase on the floor beneath you, struggling to adjust to his size without the usual amount of prep, despite how wet you were. But he paid no mind to it as he started rutting against you in shallow thrusts. 

“Fuck- I’m sorry,” He said through a moan. “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t help it- I just need this- need you.” He whined, desperately bucking his hips into you as he held you down. 

You tried to relax your body and not tense up around him, but the stretch burned almost painfully and you couldn’t help it. You just had to wait until you became aroused enough to loosen up a little. It didn’t seem like that would take long though- he’s always managed to hit the perfect spot inside you with little effort. Your clit throbbed desperately for stimulation but you couldn’t fit a hand between your body and the ground with him pinning you down. 

His thrusts became more frenzied and erratic as he neared his orgasm, far  sooner than normal, and part of you didn’t want it to be over yet but another part was glad your burning hole would get relief from the stretch soon.  

His thrusts slowed and he fucked you uncomfortably deep, pushing up against your cervix as hot come filled you up. You let out a low whine, listening to his moans and whimpers. 

“Jay?” You asked quietly, when he didn’t move or speak for a moment. You felt his cock twitch inside of you and he took a deep breath before dragging out and tentatively pushing back in. He cursed under his breath and picked up the pace, resuming the speed of his thrusts. You let out a choked sound in surprise and he moaned quietly, speeding up even more. 

“Fuck- I know. I’m sorry.” He replied to your strained whimpers. “It's not enough… It- it still hurts, baby, I’m sorry. Just a little more.” He whined. 

As he grew even needier, he started a brutal pace, slamming his hips against your ass with each thrust. His come made an obscene squelching sound as his cock forced it out of you, some falling down to your clit and some spattering onto the ground between your legs. 

You could feel yourself nearing an orgasm and you tried to force a hand under your body, but let out a whimper when you were unsuccessful. 

“Jay,” You sobbed, making him let out a choked moan. 

“Oh fuck- fuck your cunt is squeezing me so tight. You close, baby?” He moaned breathlessly and you nodded. 

“Jay, please.” You cried out. Despite his acknowledgment of your current state, he made no move to do anything else to get you there. He just moaned in response and fucked you harder, slamming into you almost painfully as he chased his second orgasm. His thrusts barely slowed as he came again, painting your fluttering walls with his seed. When he picked up the pace again, you let out a long needy whine, cunt aching for release. 

He seemed to grow only a little fatigued as he released your neck and completely laid over you, rutting into you desperately and moaning against your ear. 

“God- you feel so fucking good.” He moaned, rolling his hips and grinding against you. “Fuck.” He choked out, leaning up just enough to put you on your elbows so he could pull the zipper of your suit down to your stomach, freeing your breasts. He squeezed them roughly, making your breath hitch, but it was nothing compared to the treatment your nipples received. Desperate fingers worked them over- twisting and pinching them painfully, making sure to use his nails. When you cried out in pain, walls spasming around his length, he came again, lazily rutting into you to get the most out of his orgasm. 

“One more,” He gasped out. “Just need one more, baby, I promise.” He huffed, breath fanning your neck, making you shiver. He released your breasts then, more gently this time, pushed you down by your back, using it as leverage to fuck you faster and harder. The ground was rough against your sensitive nipples, making you hiss in pain but still clench around him. 

You were dangling over the edge with how close you were- your walls pulsing around him and your clit throbbing, in desperate need of attention. But he gave you no relief as he held you down- even your skin tight suit couldn’t give you any friction because of how far he ripped it. Where you could usually feel his balls slapping against you, you just felt air and come. You don’t know what happened to make him like this but his balls being this tight was maybe the only negative. 

The sound of his come being forced out was more obscene than before, and your cheeks burned from the humiliation, bringing you even closer to relief. 

“Oh- Jay, I’m-” You gasped out, feeling so fucking close to your orgasm. When he slammed into you with a loud moan, you fell over the edge, body twitching and walls spasming, but you let out an anguished cry when he didn’t continue the rough thrusts. He stopped and was only occasionally bucking into you as he came, making you try to move your hips under him to get more friction, but he was holding you completely still as his come filled you up for the fourth time. You let out a choked sob, your ruined orgasm bringing tears to your eyes, but he paid no mind to it as he relished in his own pleasure. 

“Fuck.” He groaned, drawing the word out. “So fucking tight.” He started panting as he came down from his orgasm, your quiet sobs falling on deaf ears. When his cock finally stopped twitching inside you, he dragged it out, hissing at the sensitivity. 

Placing his hands on your ass, he spread your cheeks to get a closer look at the mess he made- your torn suit, your abused hole desperately fluttering around nothing, his come covering the floor between your legs and your cunt as it still flowed out of you. 

“Fuck- baby, let me see your tits.” He groaned and you turned your sore body over, cringing at the feeling of laying in his come. He settled on the floor next to your stomach, gaze never leaving your exposed chest. When he lightly brushed his fingers over your red nipples, you hissed in pain. Looking down, you were startled by the sight- your breasts were covered in tiny scratches and crescent indents, but your nipples were completely bright red. 

“Aren’t you a fuckin sight.” He groaned under his breath. When his gaze moved up to your face though, he faltered. He eyed your tear stained cheeks that were red from the rough pavement and his face fell as he recoiled away from you. He quickly tucked himself back in his pants, not able to look at you and you leaned up on your elbows a little, staring at him with furrowed brows. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked quietly. Did he figure out that you liked it? “Jay?” 

“N-nothing, I’m sorry. I- I should…” He stammered out, keeping his gaze anywhere but on you. You leaned up fully and zipped up your suit, wincing as the fabric pressed tight against your sore nipples. “I’ll take you home.” He muttered, standing up to retrieve his helmet. You stood on shaky legs, trying not to show any physical indication that the feeling of his come trickling out of you was turning you on. You limped over to his bike, now fully feeling how sore you were from his rough treatment, but stopped as you stared at the seat. You don’t want to get it all messy… but what else are you supposed to do? He seemed to pick up on your internal debate and he took off his jacket, telling you to wrap it around your hips. You hesitated, but did it anyway, mentally reminding yourself to wash it as soon as you can. 

He stiffened as you wrapped your arms around his torso, making your stomach drop. Does he think I’m disgusting now? You thought, trying not to cry. The realization was enough to distract you from the vibrating seat as the engine roared to life before he drove off, speeding to your apartment. When he arrived, he didn’t even turn off the engine, just stopped and waited. So you climbed off of the bike on shaky legs and waited for him to say something. 

“I- I’m sorry. I’ll call you.” You wished you could see his face. Before you had a chance to respond, he was speeding off, making your stomach drop. You tried not to cry as you limped upstairs into your place, grimacing at the feeling of his come dripping down your thighs inside your suit. 

Maybe it was just a misunderstanding? No… His attitude only changed after he saw your face, desperate for a proper orgasm. It couldn’t have been anything else. 

A few days later you were still waiting for his call. You didn’t go on patrol for multiple reasons. The main one being that you couldn’t get rid of the nausea in your stomach from what happened. But also because he usually picks you up to go with him, and he hasn’t done that yet so he obviously doesn’t want to see you. You sat by your phone for three straight days, waiting for his name to pop up on your screen, and with every day that went by, you lost just a little more hope that he would call— that he wasn’t completely disgusted by you and wanting to break up. 

Eventually you decided you’d had enough, so you called him. It only rang twice before you were sent to voicemail, making bile rise up your throat. Another two days later you decided to go to his house. If he’s ending things, you at least want to fucking know. 

“Let me get this straight… She found you after Ivy dosed you, you couldn’t control yourself, fucked her, then acted like a complete ass, took her home, and haven’t talked to her since?” Roy asked and Jason nodded hesitantly. “How fucking stupid are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Fucking listen to yourself, Jason. You fucked her, then barely said two words to her as you dropped her off—not even attempting any kind of after care after something so intense— then didn’t even send her a text. You’re fucking psychotic.” His face fell as Roy explained it to him. 

“Oh… Oh.” Jason said through a breath, staring at the wall behind him with wide eyes. “Dude, I fucked up-”

“No shit, asshole.” 

“Oh my god what did I do?” He muttered, frozen. 

You paced outside his door, trying to psych yourself up to knock. “You can do this.” You muttered, shaking your head to try and clear any doubts. “It’s just Jason. You’ve taken on way worse than him- this is a piece of cake.” Despite your sure tone, your stomach was twisting with anxiety. “Okay just do it. Just do it.” You said, raising your first but immediately lowering it. You raised it again and waited, taking a deep breath as you moved your hand toward the wood. Before you could knock, it was being opened and you stared in shock when you were met with Roy. 

“Uh…” You glanced between his face and your fist, then quickly lowered it. 

“Sorry… I was on my way out. He’s in there though.” He said, using his thumb to point over his shoulder. 

“Okay- okay. Cool.” He left the door open and slowly walked past you but you were frozen, staring inside. 

“You good?” He asked, raising his brows. 

“Me?” You scoffed, giving an unconvincing smile. “Totally. I’m so good- perfect actually.”

“Okay… Are you gonna go in then?” He looked between you and the open door. 

“Yep. I- I’m going…” You took a single, tentative step toward the door, then froze again. 

“Stop being a pussy and go curse him out already.” He said, making you turn to him with wide eyes. “Go.” 

“I am. Give me a fucking second.” You hissed. 

“Roy? Why didn’t you close the-” Jason was on the other side of the doorway now, staring at you in shock. Neither of you noticed as Roy left. “…Do you want to come in?” He asked and you nodded, hesitantly stepping inside. 

“You didn’t call.” You said, trying to keep all of the emotion out of your voice. You crossed your arms as he closed the door and turned to you, shifting his weight between his feet. 

“I’m sorry, I was… busy?” You stared at eyes that wouldn’t meet your own, quickly growing angry from his response. 

“Fuck you, Todd.” You scoffed walking toward the door, but he lightly grabbed your arm to stop you. 

“I’m sorry… Are you okay?” When he let go of your arm, you turned to face him. 

“If you want to break up just say that.” You muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. You looked away from him as you waited for his response. 

“What? I don’t- I don’t want to break up. Do you want to break up?” He asked, making you look at him again, this time with a glare. 

“I’m not the one who promised to call and then didn’t. I’m not the one who- who left after… that.” He stayed silent so you sighed, then continued. “Look, if you think I’m weird now or don’t want anything to do with me then fine. But you could at least fucking tell me.” You snapped, feeling your eyes start to burn with unwanted tears. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, brows furrowed. 

“Jason, I'm not in the mood for whatever you’re trying to do.” You sighed. 

“No- what the fuck are you talking about? Why the hell would I think that?” You stared at him, waiting for him to laugh and tell you he was kidding and that you’re right, but he stayed silent. 

“Because I- I… liked it- when that probably shouldn’t have been something I was meant to enjoy.” You muttered, gaze moving to your feet. 

“No you didn’t.” He said simply, making you look back up at him with furrowed brows.

“Jason, what-“ 

“You were crying and I hurt you. I- I… raped you... I figured you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” He said quietly, crossing his arms over his chest and averting his gaze. 

Oh. Okay that makes a little more sense. 

“That’s why you got all cold and left? Cause you thought you did that?” You asked softly, comfortingly. 

“I don’t think I did that,” You cut him off before he could say the rest. 

“Jason, I get that you were a little out of it and frankly I’m still not even completely sure I understand what happened, but did you seriously not notice that I liked it? I literally came from just that and no other stimulation.” You tried not to let yourself get embarrassed by the confession. 

“But- you were crying…” He stared at you with furrowed brows, trying to find the hidden truth behind your words. 

“Because when I came, so did you and you pretty much stopped moving so it was a ruined orgasm. I wasn’t crying before that.” He was silent for a moment and you tried not to squirm as you anxiously awaited his response. 

“Oh.” He said under his breath, bringing a hand up to anxiously rub the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for ruining it.” He said sheepishly. 

“It was still hot.” You shrugged and his eyes widened just the slightest amount. “All of it was really…” You muttered, cheeks heating up. 

“All of it?” You nodded. “All of it?” 

“Oh my god- Yes, Jason. All of it.” You said, getting even more embarrassed. 

“But you were on the ground in an alley…” The way he said it made it sound like a question. 

“Yeah and I took a very thorough shower after. Especially because of how much you came, it was literally everywhere.” This time, he was the one to blush at your crude words. “You wanna tell me what that was about now?” 

“Ivy.” He shrugged, but there was hesitation in his voice. 

“You confronted Ivy alone?” Just by his expression, it was obvious that he knew he was in trouble. 

“I was just looking into something and she ambushed me. I didn’t think I’d actually see her.” He defended. “I would’ve brought you if I thought something was gonna go down.” The confirmation that he wouldn’t voluntarily be that stupid eased your nerves a bit. He suddenly took a step forward and lightly cupped your cheek as his gaze trailed all over your face. 

“I’m sorry I left you alone, that was wrong. I wasn't thinking straight and I know that’s not an excuse but,” You cut him off with a kiss, pressing your body to his and bringing your arms up to wrap over his shoulders as you stood on your toes to reach his height.  When you pulled back, both of you were panting quietly, eyes still closed and foreheads pressed together. 

“You don’t have to apologize, but I forgive you.” You whispered through a breath. 

“Good.” He pulled back a little, so you opened your eyes, finding a mischievous expression on his face. “If that’s done, I think we need to have a lengthy conversation about all of the kinks you’ve been hiding.” He teased, making your face heat up. “Starting with whatever it was that made you come from penetration alone because I will be doing a lot more of that from now on.”

“Oh my god.” You muttered, leaning forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck with a small smile. 

[huntersrequiem-if]

Hunter's Requiem

demo [HERE] | forum [tba]

dark fantasy, horror (?), romance

CW: violence, gore

You are a minor deity of the Hunt, known by your followers as The Hunter, used by the other Higher Beings as The Hound. The All-Seeing Sun had given you countless tasks over your existence.

Yet one day, while on a mission sent out by him, you were summoned and judged for treason. The punishment left you mangled; your magic ripped off.

Cast away, you went into a deep sleep to recover.

After centuries you awoke to find your name spoken in whispers in the darkest nights. The Traitor. The world has changed, yet you still have true believers who await your awakening.

Will you be successful in your revenge? Will you be able to topple the gods or will you try to live in peace?

Features:

Play as male, female, nonbinary.

Your choices will affect the fate of your followers.

Befriend, romance or even antagonize a wide cast of characters.

Have a loyal shadowy companion by your side.

Astaroth [M]

"And to think I hated you. Now I can’t imagine living a single day without you.”

Your “other half”, attached to your psyche. He is content to stay in the backseat and offer comments. Tall and lean with gray skin. His face is sharp and angular, eyes with black sclera and white iris. Long black straight hair parted only by his antlers. His hands are black, tipped with long claws. The gradient loses color the closer it gets to his elbow. When he grins at you, you see beast-like teeth glinting in the light.

The Beloved Moon [F]

"That was the worst mistake I ever made. Please, I will do anything you want for you to forgive me.”

Moon has a curious interest in you. Since the moment she saw you, she had sought any chance to talk with you.

A short woman with deep blue skin and freckles that shine like stars. Her skin is shifting between deep blue and purple. She has a round face with full lips and a button nose. Round eyes with black sclera and bright blue iris stare at you with curiosity. Her long curly hair is white with pale blue streaks. Massive white feathered wings cover her back, sometimes used to cover her body like a cloak. Her smile might be gentle but the sharp fangs showed less so.

The Eternal Night [NB]

“I have turned a blind eye to the world far too long. I will no longer allow anything to happen to you.”

The Eternal Night is a distant person. Even more towards the other gods, yet for you they show a kinder side. They are tall and slender. Their sharp face is softened by full lips and expressive eyes. They have dark grey skin paired with stark white hair, that reaches their chin. The wavy strands frame their face nicely. Their eyes-- black sclera with crimson iris—are often covered by their mask. Massive black wings sprout from their back, and then the light catches the feathers right they look more blue than dark.

Santana [F/M]

"Why is it that every time I look at you I feel that I have known you for lifetimes? Why does my soul yearn for you?"

A priest you met in your past, a rather interesting person with a stubborn brand of kindness.

Tawny skin sprinkled with freckles. Golden hair is kept in a braid, far away from their face, yet a few strands escape and frame their heart-shaped face. Expressive eyes look at you, their blue gaze shining brightly.

They stand at an average height, donning the white and golden robes of the priests of Sun. Over that, they wear a chainmail.

You thought you lost them to the sands of time.

??? [F/M]

“Do you have any idea how long I prayed to see you, to hear your voice?”

Every day, they're slipping farther, their grip on the edge of the chasm growing fragile. Can you drag them back or will you shove them off?

[connorsui]

♡♡Angst with nanami because this man thought of you before he died ♡♡

The air was thick with the ruin of Shibuya, yet, for Kento Nanami, it had never felt lighter. He wasn’t in the desolate streets, nor surrounded by curses and shattered remnants of humanity. No, in his mind, he was far from here—far from this city, far from pain, from death. He was in Malaysia, on a sun-drenched beach where the world was simple, and the weight of life had slipped away, unnoticed. And you were there. Always, you were there.

In the clarity of his mind, you danced—graceful and unburdened, as if the very ocean had learned its rhythm from you. “I’ve always imagined her in front of me," Nanami thought, his lips barely moving with the words. "Twirling across the sand, laughing softly as the waves kissed her feet. That laugh, so gentle, like the sound of water lapping the shore—something eternal."

Mahito's blows landed with the force of fate, cruel and inescapable, but Nanami did not feel them. His body was breaking, yes, but it was as if he’d traded his senses for something better—a dream so vivid it seemed real. You were twirling before him, your hands outstretched, hair catching the wind, and Nanami thought he might reach you, might hold you, if only he took one more step.

He smiled faintly, his blood-soaked mouth twitching as his thoughts carried him further from the battlefield. “We spoke about forever, didn’t we? About a little home nestled near the sea, where the world’s burdens couldn’t reach us.” He could almost hear your voice now, warm like the sun, speaking of nothing but trivialities—what to cook for dinner, whether to walk or swim tomorrow. The small, unimportant details of a life free from the strain of duty.

Another blow landed. His body lurched forward, but in his mind, he was walking beside you. How strange, he thought, to have wanted something so desperately—peace, simplicity—and to be so close now, only to feel it slip through his fingers. "How cruel," he might have whispered, had the words found breath.

Mahito's strikes came faster now, and Yuuji watched in horror as Nanami’s body was broken before him. The younger sorcerer screamed his name, but Nanami wasn’t there. He was at the edge of something beautiful and irrevocable, the edge of eternity, where the life he dreamed of waited like a ghost—faint, unreachable.

But something tugged at him, pulling him back. Not enough to save him, only enough to remind him of the truth. “She’s waiting for me,” he thought, and the words became a desperate litany. “She’s waiting… she’s waiting…”

And she was. In that dream of Malaysia, where the sun was golden and the waves never stopped moving, you waited for him. But as Nanami blinked through the blood and the haze, reality began to bleed through. Shibuya returned. The screams, the curses, the destruction. The life he would never have.

“Nanami! NANAMI!”

Yuuji’s voice was desperate now, shaking him from the dream, ripping away the illusion. Nanami looked up, his eyes no longer clouded by hope or fantasy but by something heavier. The weight of his failure, the weight of goodbye. He would never walk that beach with you, would never see the future he’d promised. But in those final moments, it didn't matter.

He smiled at Yuuji, the remnants of the dream still clinging to him like salt on his skin, and with the last of his breath, he gave the only truth he had left.

“I leave the rest to you"

The dream was over. The beach was gone. You would always be waiting. But now, Nanami realized he would never make it.

[hard-core-super-star]

bare your soul 'til it's naked [C.Danvers]

pairing: sub!carol danvers x dom!reader

summary: you and carol experiment with switching up your usual roles and accidentally discover something new.

warnings: SMUT -> minors, don't look [porn with feelings; bondage; strap-on sex; an exploration of carol's submissive side; strapwarming; a dash of denial; carol's praise kink goes brr; captain kink because duh]

wordcount: 1.8k

a/n: no, i didn't disappear for like all of november, what are you talking about?? anywho, this happened and...i have no reason or explanation for it lmao. also, i'm not even going to pretend to be an expert on dom/sub dynamics but just labeling carol as a bottom felt wrong considering the more...intense route this took. ANYWAY, usual,"this is my first time writing for this character, please give me validation if you liked it," warning applies.

* * * * * * *

It had started as a joke.

You had told Carol how unfair it was that her superhuman abilities always led to her overpowering you after she had effortlessly picked you up and plopped you down onto the couch to stop you from washing the dishes. It had been an almost nonsensical joke that the blonde took a little too seriously. 

It’s not something that genuinely bothers you, in fact, you love how quick Carol always is to pick you up and carry you everywhere. However, you had mentioned how much you’d love to have a turn at being in charge for once and your girlfriend took it upon herself to give you exactly what you wanted. (Like usual) 

You weren’t sure why she was so dead set on doing this, especially considering how much she loves having the upper hand all the time, and yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell her to change her mind. Mainly because you’d have to be an actual fool to deny her anything but also because there’s been a look in her eyes that you can’t quite decipher that was born from the mere thought of switching roles for once.

So, your one meaningless joke had earned you a sight you’d never thought you’d see: Carol Danvers naked and bound on your bed.

It should be ridiculous. She’s a goddamn superhero, for crying out loud, she could easily rip apart those ropes like nothing. And yet…she remains motionless. You’d go far enough to call her stoic if it weren’t for the smirk she hasn’t yet wiped off of her face.

You both know the massive amounts of power she holds inside herself and she still chooses to pretend. To give in to the fantasy. To act like you truly hold all the cards when she’s the one with literal superpowers. 

Your girlfriend huffs as she watches you admire her toned body and the intricate knots that hold her in place. She’s been sitting in the same position for what feels like hours, with her hands tied around her back and her legs spread open, showing off the strap attached to her hips.

“You gonna do something or just stare?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” you reply, shamelessly staring at her jawline while she throws her head back and groans.

“I’m going to lose my mind if you don’t touch me right now.”

You’re tempted to just walk away like she’s done to you countless times but you have other, more important, ideas on your mind. 

You approach her in two quick steps, smiling at the way her eyes literally light up before tangling your fingers in her blonde hair and gently pulling. You’re rewarded with the sound of her gasp and you can practically see the way her veins pop out as she clenches her fists. 

“I think you’re forgetting our deal, Captain,” you whisper. “I’m in charge, you just have to sit there and behave.”

She lets out a soft groan, her eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of seconds. You don't know if it's the hair-pulling or the use of the title that affects her so much but it’s obvious her reluctance melts away in an instant…which means your need to have her begging for you increases tenfold in that same instant.

“Are you going to need a reminder, baby?”

A long second of silence goes by before your girlfriend gives in. You’re more than willing to wait for her, especially once her eyes open again and you’re able to make out the specks of bliss that make her eyes sparkle more than usual. “No…I’ll behave.”

“Good girl,” you hum.

The whine that escapes her doesn’t reach your ears but the way her hips buck is more than noticeable and you can’t stop yourself from reaching out and wrapping your hand around the large toy. The fact that it’s fake doesn’t stop Carol from thrusting into your hand and she looks far too good for you to even think about making her stop.

That doesn’t mean you’re not going to tease her, though.

“Are you needy already, babe? I haven’t even done anything.”

“Maybe that’s why,” she replies, attempting to hold on to some of her usual snarkiness.

Something that would be more effective if she wasn’t bucking her hips in search of some friction. 

The calm and controlled persona she so easily wears out on the field starts to slip and with it comes the barrage of thoughts that never allow her to give up control. It’s subtle but the sparkle in her eyes can’t erase the furrowing of her eyebrows or the tension in her muscles. 

That desperation that makes her thrust up into your hand isn’t unfamiliar. Her need to give in to it is.

So, you do the only thing you know will help her focus on the moment instead of on her unspoken fears. 

“Carol.” Her name leaves your lips as a mere whisper, the grip you have on her hair loosening just enough for the change to register in her unfocused mind.

She takes a deep breath before lifting her eyes up to look at you. You expect her to pull the plug on this whole thing, to put her walls back up and call it a day, but she doesn't. She does the exact opposite and leaves your mind spinning in the process.

“I need you.” The hushed tone she speaks in does nothing to hide her desperation. It’s not the kind you’re used to, though. It’s less about the physical and more about the emotional. It’s about the stability she’s always looked for but has never found in all the countless planets she’s visited. 

The only place she’s found it in all her life is with you.

The second the thought enters your mind, you climb onto her lap, momentarily forgetting about the new dynamic you're forging and merely focusing on your vulnerable girlfriend. Despite your urge to help ground her, you can’t help but notice the way her hips instantly buck once again.

You still decide to wait, though, much to the blonde’s dismay.

“What do you need from me, Captain?”

“Need you…” She trails off and you half expect that to be the end of it until she continues a second later. “Need you to own me…use me…please.”

There’s no doubt in your mind of the strength it took for her to get the words out which only adds fuel to the fire burning in your core. A fire made up of desire, trust, and so much lust it could fill a small planet.

“As you wish,” you mumble before finally giving both of you what you really want.

Carol’s eyes watch you closely while you grip the toy attached to her hips and slowly tease your entrance with it. She technically can’t feel anything yet but she still takes every second in, rotating her hips in an attempt to bring you as much pleasure as she can.

You leave the dildo soaked in less than a minute and the sight of your girlfriend’s abs contracting with every movement does nothing to satisfy your growing desire. Your body shifts until you’re hovering over Carol’s dark blue strap, pretending like you can’t see the way she attempts to slam herself inside your already fluttering walls.

“You wanna fill me up, Captain? Is that what my good girl wants?”

It’s like a switch is instantly flipped inside her brain. Like everything else disappears until she’s left hanging onto your every word. She’s never been like this with someone else, much less felt like this. Felt such an intense devotion that she genuinely longs to submit to every one of your wishes and commands.

You could tell her to jump and she’d leap into the air without a second thought, ropes be damned.

She nods rapidly. “Yes! Yes, I want to fill you up so bad. Please, y/n.”

“If only your little Avengers friends could see you now, all tied up and desperate for me…” You trail off as you sink down onto her, relishing in the unashamed moans she can’t hold back.

You know how much she loves fucking you in this position and you also know how crazy it’s making her that she can’t control your speed. She can’t control anything in this moment. Not the speed of your movements, not the sounds she makes, not the unrelenting bucking of her hips.

The power rests in your hands despite how much of it runs through her veins.

“Fuck-” Your groan brings her back to reality. “You’re so good for me.”

Carol stares at you with wide eyes, plump lips parted just enough to allow all her sinful sounds to slip out unrestricted. Her entire world revolves around you, around the pleasure only she can give you…even when she's not allowed to touch you.

It would be so easy for her to break free, you both know that, and yet somehow, her choosing to remain trapped beneath you makes everything feel ten times stronger than usual. 

Maybe that's what makes the coil in your stomach tighten faster than usual or maybe it's the way the blonde can't stop herself from messily thrusting up into your drenched cunt and burying her strap inside of you.

You’re both lost in each other, your nails digging into her shoulder in search of some stability while she works tirelessly to bring you to new heights. Heights she couldn’t even dream of reaching despite her love for flying.

“y/n,” she mumbles. “Please, I want- I need you.”

“Yeah? You wanna cum already, Captain?”

She shakes her head, the thinnest layer of tears gathering in her stormy eyes. “No, I want to make you cum. Please, can I?”

The mere question has you clenching around the toy but it’s the devoted look that’s plastered onto her face that makes you fall apart. For that brief moment, she’s not Captain Marvel, she’s not an Avenger, she’s just the woman you love more than anything else in the universe, the woman who loves you enough to trust you like this.

You fall over the edge without warning which triggers an avalanche of feelings inside Carol. The two of you slump into each other in a mess of shaking limbs and hoarse voices that cry out the other’s name.

It’s messy and loud and perfect.

It’s unclear how much time you both spend in the throes of your powerful orgasms but when you finally come back to yourself, you find your girlfriend’s face buried into the crook of your neck, trails of salty tears staining her warm cheeks. It takes you another second to realize what she’s mumbling but the second the words register, all your worry melts away.

“I love you-” It comes out more like a broken sob than a beautiful confession but you don’t mind. 

You gently run your fingers through her messy hair, silently watching the shudders that your affection creates. “I love you too. You’re perfect, Carol.”

She doesn’t reply but she also doesn’t argue. She just stays in your arms, basking in the feeling of being loved.

Of finally being home.

[shortkingvince]

Solomon's Lovely Apprentice

Minors DNI

Solomon wanting to be bred knowing full well it would be impossible to get him pregnant, and the fact he wouldn't even want to actually be pregnant if it WERE possible, but loving the idea of being pounded so hard it defies biology...

Dom!Top!MC x Sub!Bottom!Solomon

Warnings: Solomon has a breeding kink without actually wanting to get pregnant, he just wants to be pounded to death, he wants to be the one to be bred, reader is amab. Pronouns are gender neutral.

No actual sex in this part, just Solomon's imagination running wild. An old man can dream.

Also I wrote this at 3 am with a wrist brace on due to an injury, Obey Me brainrot hit so hard that I defied such weakness /j

This is being posted at 4 am, I am eepy deepy

Solomon: Am I pregnart? /ref (This is not an MPreg fic, I don't do pregnancy fics in general, I just thought it would be silly to write Solomon desperately wanting to be bred until he can't even think)

Yes there will be a part two

NSFW under the cut

Pants filled the air, frustration welling up in the white-haired sorcerer as he desperately palmed at the tent in his pants. This had been happening far more often lately, his fantasies running wild each time he thought about you, his favorite apprentice.

He found himself rushing off to his room regularly now, unable to keep his thoughts of you at bay. He always looked so composed on the outside, but it felt like he had a raging wildfire on the inside. One that only you could quell.

He had been dropping hints here and there. Some were less obvious, with others being so obvious that he knows there's no way you aren't playing dumb on purpose. He had been doing everything he could to rile you up and get you to just take him then and there, but each attempt ended in failure.

His mind drifted away from his frustrations for a moment, fantasizing about the things he wanted you to do to him. He thought about you finally, finally bending him over and practically ripping his clothes off, giving him barely any time to use a spell to sound proof his room and lock the door.

His cock only continued to protest against the confines of his clothing. In one quick move he all but ripped his pants and boxers off, just how you did in his fantasy but without the damage to his clothes. He thought about how you'd waste no time in touching him, exploring his body and the markings he had from all the pacts he was in.

You'd trace each one, teasing him as your faint touches only fueled the blood rushing to his weeping cock. You'd trace your hand around his thighs, going so close to where he wanted you before you pulled back, staring down at him like he was some piece of prey.

He could barely control his breathing as fantasy you went back again and squeezed one of his thighs, making him let out a shaky breath. He finally let his hand start to travel towards his cock, imagining it was yours instead. Fuck, he needed you. The demon brothers were always dragging you away, giving him little time to have you for even a day.

The frustration that was building up at that thought vanished as soon as he touched his cock, making him let out a small gasp of surprise, as if it wasn't his own hand touching him. His eyes were squeezed closed as he continued to imagine you, your strokes were slow and teasing, circling the head of his cock every so often. It felt like you were trying to drive the poor man mad.

He suppressed a shiver as "you" suddenly circled a finger around his rim, hearing "you" mutter a spell that lubricated your fingers as you teased the outside of his entrance. Normally he'd be embarrassed by the moan he let out as his finger breached his hole in reality, but he couldn't care less since all he could focus on was you in his imagination. He gave himself a moment to adjust before he started to move the finger inside of him, and he couldn't stop himself from imagining how you'd look at him as you fingered him. How you'd mock and tease him for getting so worked up over one finger. Or maybe you'd coo at him, telling him how pretty he looks under you. Either one was driving him wild as he slipped a second finger inside of himself.

He started off slow at first, using his fingers to drag along his insides in a way that made him shiver. It wasn't long before his patience ran thin though, quickly ramming his fingers inside and out of him as he moaned your name into his empty room, the wet squelching causing his face to heat up in embarrassment at how he was acting, but he just couldn't stop himself. He used his other hand to tug at his cock, stroking himself fast as he got closer to his release.

It wasn't enough, it just wasn't enough. He needed your cock so badly. He needed to be bred by you even though he knew it was physically impossible for him to get pregnant. Hell, he didn't even WANT to get pregnant if he could, but the thought of you fucking him so hard and deep that it defied the literal laws of nature turned him on so badly that it hurt. He needed your cum deep inside him, pounding your seed from previous rounds even deeper into him until he couldn't even think properly.

He couldn't stop himself from letting out a deep moan as he finally came all over his shirt, having forgotten to remove it earlier in his frantic state. Once he finally snapped back to reality and gently pulled his fingers out of him, he couldn't help but cringe at the feeling of his cum seeping through his shirt. That only made him think about what you'd say if you saw him so desperate like this though, frustration welling up again as he felt himself rub his thighs together.

Fuck.

He used a spell to clean his hands quickly as he grabbed his DDD, searching for your name as he finally sent you a message.

monSOLO: "Please, I need you so badly, just come over and fuck me already."

monSOLO: "I know you've seen my hints. I've seen how you look at me when I've given you them. Come over. Please."

monSOLO: "I know you're reading my messages right now. Fuck...come over. Please."

He was almost ready to give up and accept defeat until he suddenly saw the three moving dots signifying you were typing. He gripped his phone as if it would slip from his hands any moment. His cock slowly started to twitch back to life as he read your message.

MC: "I'm coming over right now. I hope you aren't planning on using your legs too much tomorrow, I'm not letting you go until I've drained every last drop I have into you."

Fuck. You truly were going to drive him mad, in the best way he could ever ask for from his lovely apprentice.

[mochalate]

[3] new notification!

msby!atsumuxreader || w/c: 1.1k + 1 min of video (yes, video.) chocolate chip cookies are the way to a guy's heart. (everyone knows that!) a/n: wow I thought I wouldn't post anything this week, but one really good chocolate cake later, I felt alive. Perhaps Atsumu and I are more similar than I thought. 🔔Please use full screen for the video!

[<-chapter 2][chapter 4->] ||[start from intro][masterlist]

Back when you were still at university, you had a part time job at the campus gym. Legally, you weren’t allowed to call yourself a nutritionist at that point, but that’s what you did. It was never anything complicated— the hardest thing had been managing expectations. 

No, you won’t have noticeable muscle definition in a month. 

Yes, you’ll need quite a bit longer than a week to lose ten kilos.

That will give you results, but perhaps a more sustainable plan?

So yes, expectations. You’re in a career chock-full of them. You’re good at managing them. Even when it’s hard.

Or so you’d thought.

Can I keep starin’? 

(Could it really be that easy?)

With four words, Atsumu Miya had ripped open the top of that flimsy cardboard box you’d oh-so-carefully stuffed your expectations in, and now you were struggling to (convince yourself to) put them back in. For the last few hours, you’ve been fiddling with that metaphorical scotch-tape, not quite daring to believe he could be interested in you— and yet unable to let go of that fantasy.

Was it a fantasy? 

You can still picture his flushed-red face, the anticipation and anxiety in his eyes. It wasn’t the kind of look you expected from a flirty joke.

Or…

It's when Osamu has to stop you from trying to grab the piping hot handle of a cast iron pan for the second time that you realise you need to come back to your senses.

“Osamu,” you ask, timidly. “Can I ask you something? It’s about Atsumu.”

Osamu turns down the flame on the burner, and looks at you. His face is neutral— some people went as far as calling those droopy grey eyes of his ‘expressionless’, but you preferred to think of them as steady. Osamu always said it like it was. 

He’s going to give you the reality check you so obviously need.

“How stupid am I for thinking I have a chance with Atsumu?”

You brace yourself for a scathing reply. Perhaps, ‘Next time, I won’t stop ya from burning yourself.’ Or maybe, “That oaf? Sorry, the only thing he’s attracted to is balls. Volleyballs, that is.”

What he does instead, is sigh heavily, and a little exasperatedly. 

“Did ya two idiots finally figure it out?”

Your heart skips a beat. “What?”

“You heard me,” Osamu says, turning up the flame once more. He stirs the simmering broth as he speaks. “He’s been actin’ stupid all week. And you’ve been actin’ stupid around him for a while.”

Oh. Oh.

There’s no way you’re ever putting those expectations away ever again, because that stupid box is all soggy at the bottom now. Soggy, because the raging mix of relief and happiness swirling around in your chest— the weight lifted off your shoulders because you don’t have to pretend anymore—  is making you tear up. 

Osamu hears you sniffle. 

“Aw, c’mon,” he says, tapping off the broth and setting the spoon beside the stove, “you know he isn’t worth cryin' over.” There’s a cheeky grin on his face, as he brings his large hands up to your face, wiping away the tears. “Want me to beat him up for ya?”

(You think he really might be your best friend.)

“You’re just looking for an excuse to!” You say, pulling his hands away as you laugh. 

He holds them up in mock defence. “Hey, two birds and all. Are you going call him?”

You’re already scrambling inside your purse. “I… think I forgot my phone at work.” 

He clicks his tongue. “I take it back, yer perfect for each other.”

“Hey!” You say it indignantly, but his words make you feel warm. Perfect for each other. “Can I borrow your phone? Would that be weird?”

“He’d make it weird,” Osamu scoffs. “Just go over.”

“I— I should bring him something.”

He makes an amused expression. “Okay.”

“I don’t know what.”

“Are you asking me for help?”

You make your best puppy face. “Please?”

Osamu sighs. “Well, he’s been complainin’ about those raisin bran cookies for weeks now…”

“I think it would be best if you don’t say anything. Just let it blow over,” the publicist says. She’s using the speakerphone, and her voice sounds far away. Atsumu can hear the clack of keyboard keys in the background. “I mean it, Miya. Log out of everything. No, uninstall everything.”

“Don’t ya trust me even a little bit?” Atsumu asks. He tries to sound teasing, but his heart isn’t in it.

“No,” she says bluntly. The call goes blank.

Atsumu collapses back on to his bed, legs hanging over the edge. He holds his phone up over his face, staring at the ‘call ended’ until the screen turns itself off, and then sighs heavily.

It’s not that he’s worried. She was right, it would blow over. But it would happen again. And he knows that each time, it would chip off a little piece of you; and eventually leave your edges jagged and rough enough to cut.

You’d resent him for it.

Atsumu unlocks his phone. It’s easy enough to find those pictures of you and Osamu again.

You look so happy.

He doesn’t think he was being delusional earlier, he knows there was something more than plain embarrassment in your eyes when you’d looked at him; and yet, he can’t shake the thought that he’s being selfish. 

The photo is cropped awkwardly, and he knows you and Osamu are close, but he can’t help but feel disheartened, and then hate himself for feeling like that. Were you two actually seeing each other? Was he meddling in his brother’s happiness, your happiness? What did he have to offer that his brother didn’t, save for the scrutiny of strangers?

The phone buzzes.

His eyes flick up to the notification bar. It’s a DM request from one of his new-found confidantes.

(Well, it's not like I've got anything better to do.)

In that brief moment, Atsumu understands his mother, and her panic at the state of the house when guests were imminent. He even understands, as he turns a couple of the trophies he has on display a few degrees to the left, why she would go around adjusting her many throw pillows in those last few seconds. That time seemed to stretch endlessly.

And then the doorbell rings, and time seems to somehow come to a stop and rush forward at the same time.

Atsumu stumbles on the carpet as he rushes to open the door.

And there you are.

“Hey, Atsumu,” you say, fiddling with the lid of the plastic container in your hands, “can we talk?”

(Wow, he thinks for some reason. I think those are cookies.)

Osamu walked her over because the publicist was calling around to find her, when she couldn't get a hold of reader on her number. He was worried about her going alone. What a prince. Divider @/cafekitsune Tweet images edited from here and Shokubutsu Zukan (by Tsutsumi Kakeru). Had a hard time finding the source for that image lol, it's been used in SO many fic headers. Each time I reverse image searched, If found a slightly less cropped version until it ended as the full page. and then i had to google translate this russian pirated manga site. next chapter will be the last + I will post a little bonus from the osamu POV. :)

[peachesofteal]

Medieval/and or fantasy ghoap x reader AU? Ghost and Soap are Knights under the 141 legion and happen to walk into a town where everyone is accusing reader of being some demon/ practicing witchcraft (she has anxiety).

🏰🗡️🔮 okay, okay. With a few changes. A lot of changes, sorry! 18+ MDNI / rescue, comfort, etc no smut

“You cannot p-p-possibly-“ the magistrate stutters, hands out in front of his body as if he even has a sliver of a chance of fending them off.

Simon stalks forward, bloodied sword gleaming in the candle light, silver stained with ruby ichor, the remnants of the hired protection outside, all slain, all dying.

The hired protection that he paid for, with the coin he made off of you.

“Ye cannae possibly believe,” Johnny snarls, steps vibrating with rage. “That ye’ll be talkin’ yer way out o’ this one.”

“She’s possessed, she-“

“Do not bother to lie. You do not believe it. We know you’ve been using her.” Simon barks. “We’ve heard the tales. The tongues wag far and wide over the rumors about your seer.”

“She needs healing, and my healers are uniquely qualified, experienced with witchcraft.” The magistrate whines, still stepping backwards on his heels, eyes wide, sweat dripping from his temple.

“Ye stole her!” Johnny roars, shouldering past Simon. “Ye waited until we were called away and then ye broke into our home and took her.” The magistrate shakes his head.

“She needs-“

“She needs nothing from you. Except to be free.” Simon cracks his neck. “And for you to be dead.”

“No. No, you can’t. I’m a- a noble. You cannot just-“

“Aye. We can.”

“Tell us where she is, and perhaps, we’ll let you live.” Simon counters, and the magistrate relaxes, body going languid like a fool.

“She’s in the room. At the end of the hall.” He grabs at a key around his neck, and Johnny rips it away, worn leather string breaking free without much effort.

“Johnny.” It’s a hum, an order, and he grins with his answer, whistling his way down the hall.

The last thing the magistrate sees is the swing of Simon’s sword, cleaving through the air, headed straight for his neck.

“Darling?” The room is dark. It smells, reeks of blood and bile, and his stomach turns. This is where he’s been hiding you? After all the coin that heathen made from your visions, this is the best he could give you? “Darling? Are ye in here?” There’s nothing, no response, no whisper of your sweet voice. Just the sound of shaky breathing, whimpering. “It’s me. It’s Johnny.”

He can just barely see the outline of your shoulder under the window, and he crouches, reaching towards your knee, brushing his fingertips over your skin.

“N-no.” You whisper, and he frowns.

“It’s Johnny. Simon’s here too. We’re here now, darling, ye’re safe.” The doors swings, banging into the stone wall, you startle, flinching against the window.

“Johnny?” Simon murmurs, coming to stand behind him, hand on his shoulder.

“Ah dinnae- she-“

“Those who walk in the woods will see their feet stained with blood.” You croak, shivering.

“Wot?” Simon questions, but you don’t respond.

They can just barely make out the sight of your dress, more of a sack, torn and tattered, encrusted with dirt and blood and goddess knows what else.

“We need tae get her out o’ here.” Johnny’s voice stays low, cautious. Worried.

“Darling, can you hear me?” Simon tries, but you still say nothing, little noises coming from your mouth every other moment.

He rocks forward to take you into his arms, hoping the familiarity will calm you, bring you back to yourself.

But you let out a bloodcurdling scream instead, the terror in your voice so rich, so real, he nearly loses his grip on your struggling body.

You fight them. Clawing and ripping and tearing, hands wild, tugging at Johnny’s hair, Simon’s clothes, until they’ve got your arms pinned down, Johnny cooing to you softly.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. Breathe for me, darling. Jus’ breathe.” You’re still struggling, still trying wrench yourself free, and when you thrash, you face catches the moonlight.

That’s when they see it.

Johnny chokes on his gasp, and Simon cups your chin, tilting your eyes back towards the light, back towards the window to reveal the horrifying truth.

Your eyes are completely white. Pupils, irises, blood vessels, all fogged out, covered with creamy, milky white that looks more like the moon than your beautiful eyes that they’ve known, loved, so dearly.

“No.” Johnny whispers. You whimper, head swinging, eyebrows creased, chest heaving.

Their worst fears, realized. They always knew this was a possibility but… for it to happen when you were being held captive. When they couldn’t be here. When they weren’t able to help you, comfort you.

The terror you must have felt.

“She only sees with the Sight now.” Simon says. “It’s why she doesn’t recognize us. She’s lost herself to it, to the Goddess.”

You blink rapidly, like you’re hearing them, head cocking slightly toward their voices, and Simon strokes a thumb down your cheek.

“Shhh.” Johnny hums, and you settle, a bit dejected, but quieting in their arms as they hold you. “Just breathe. Good girl, nice an’ slow for us.” After you get two lungfuls, they shift, Simon’s arms curling around your body and holding you close as Johnny opens the door.

“Let’s go home, darling.”

[fuzzythoughtsblog]

So I'm in love with the BFFs sister Troup. Especially in a omegavere scenario.

I imagine my beta best friends alpha sister get handsy when BFF's not looking. Like placing her hand on my thigh under the dinner table or hugging me for way too long after sleepovers. It's not that she's a bad person just a little inappropriate when it comes to me. Which is weird because she not like that to any other Omega.

Despite this I'm not afraid of her, so when my friend texts me a invite to a sleepover I agree with out thinking. I'm surprised when her sister opens the door.

"Hiiii, Omega. Whatcha doing? "

I try to push her out of my to look for my friend. I go up to my friends room but she's not there. I check my phone for any cancelations but their are none. When I walk out of my friends room I question her sister and where she is.

"Oh yeah I think she's in my room looking for a jacket I "apparently" stole from her. "

I go to look for my friend in the room she pointed me to but no ones in there and the place is a mess. I then hear a click of the doors lock and turn around to see my friends sister practically panting. Then it hits me the smell of an alpha in rut. How did I not notice? Then as I look around the room I see packages of scent blockers. My brain tells me to run and she seems to notice.

"H-HHey don't panic I... I just want to talk okay. "

I look at her and nod. She slowly stocks towards me. " Good, Good Omega. Do you realize what's going on? " I say yes. She continues to move closer. "G-good so you know this isn't me. (Pants) Fuck, I made a really stupid, rut filled decision. " she continues closer and closer with her hand over her nose. "Fuck your just sso pretty. Have you ever been fucked by an Alpha?"

I wince at this question knowing where it's leading. She seems to notice. "I'm sorry that's, such a stupid fucking question. I just... you smell so good ... even from here. Just so good." I back away from her causing her to lung forward but I dodge out of the way. And now our positions change. Only one problem the door is key locked. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that it's just hard doing these things alone. And toys they don't help. "

I continue to look at her trying to anticipate her next move. Looking around the room for a weapon but all that's on the ground is scent blocker wrappers and broken cum filled toys " My sister hasn't fucked you yet right? " to this I stumble back in utter confusion and surprise."Oh, she hasn't told you yet? Fuck, yeah you have two sisters fantasizing over you little Omega." I think about escaping through the window but it's to high up.

"But I was first, I had feelings for you long before she did! I remember when she introduced you to me and I felt so bad attracted to my little sisters friend. Dreaming ever other night of sinking my teeth into you. Imagining it was you instead of some flimsy toy every rut. And then I saw my sisters old phone in her room after searching for clothes that smell like you in her room. I just... "

She begins to shake and pant more and more. And I can see the bulge of in her shorts from here. I'm so fucked, I think as she continues to take small steps towards me.

"I know that look Omega, please don't try to fight me. I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want to hurt the girl that's going to be carrying my pups. " after this statement she pounces on me again this time I don't dodge it. She knocks me down full force and holds my hands down with one hand. The sight of this only increases her panting. "Fuck I can't believe this is actually happening it's not a fantasy. Your below me, smelling delicious and no ones home. "

As she speaks I feel her grind into my thigh. I try to think of how I'm going to get out of this. Fighting her isn't an option, she's strong enough to have both my arms pinned with one arm. And she's to far in to be reasoned with. I scrap my mind for something anything that will save me and then I feel it her hand ripping my skirt and panties in two.

"You smell so good. " she says as she bites her lip and pants. "Fuuck, what will you smell like when your filled with my pups?"

I keep trying to tell myself to think but it's so hard when you have a hard pulsing clothed cock rubbing against your folds.

"I shouldn't be doing this god it's so wrong. " she say as she grinds harder tears falling from her eyes.

I try to take this moment to my advantage. I tell her that I'll forgive her if she just stops. I wipe away one of her tears with my thumb. Before telling her that I wouldn't tell anyone not even her sister. I feel as she slightly let's up off of me before pulling me towards her bed as I scream.

"Why do you always have to talk about her! Why can't you just look at me? " she yells as she throws me on to her bed standing over me but not touching yet. I look around for something anything to defend but on the bed I see photos of me. So many ones of me in my bathing suit, ones of me get out of the shower, ones of me sleeping and the creepiest of all ones from outside my bed room window.

She breaks my concentrate as she begins to speak "I love you, not her. She doesn't crave you like I do. She doesn't think of you everytime she closes her eyes. She wouldn't fuck you like I would. She doesn't ... I'm sorry omega but I won't let her have you. Your mine. "

She then gets on top of me and tries to kiss me. I try to move away but she grabs my chin and forces her tongue down my throat with a growl. I start to feel as she rips my shirt and bra off and grabs my chest.

"Your so fucking soft and you taste as good as you smell! Gods I need you now! "

I begin to feel myself slip into fear as she holds me like a toy. It isn't until she plants a kiss on my cheek that I look up.

"Please don't look at me like that, stop please. I promise I'll make you feel so good, just stop smelling like that. I... why can't you just love me?" She begins to wrap a hand around my throat her claws daring me to move. "Say it please, just say it tell me you love me. "

I try to compose myself as the fear of being broken spreads through out my whole body. "I... Love you. " she moans and let's go of my throat.

"Good, good girl, so fucking good. Now tell me you don't want her, say you only want me. "

I nod and begin to mouth the words back to her. She growls before letting go of my waist in exchange for my legs. Holding me up to her and looking down.

"I want to taste. I need to know. I want your scent dripping down my chin. So be a good, pup and don't fuck this up. I don't know what I would do in this state and I really don't want to hurt you. " she says before shoving her tongue into me.

She eats me out like its her last goddamn meal. Fucking me on her tongue in and out while pulling me close as I cry. It feels good. It shouldn't feel good. She's taking me, I'm not enjoying it not even as she begins to lap and suck at my clit. A sensation that's just to much. I try to pull away from it but I feel as her teeth ghost on my clit.

"Don't fucking, move away you can fucking into to it, but the next time you run from the pleasure I'm giving you I'll bite this off. After all you don't need a clit to have my kids. " she threatens before sinking her face back down as I squeak.

She takes to nursing my clit more and kissing my thighs. I feel my self shake and whine. As I start to get closer and closer to the edge, I look down and she's starring at me. She then let's up of my cunt with a pop.

"I'm sorry baby, I don't want to threaten you I just... I need you to be good. Obedient, for this to work safely. I'm really trying to be gentle. It's just I want you positively dripping of my cock and I can't control it. But I prepped you so your ready now. "

I feel my eye's go wide as she pulls down pulls down her shorts and it falls out. I know I can't take that it's going to break me, even the knot is bigger than my hand. I have to run, I don't even care if the windows to high at least it freedom or a painless way to go. As I begin to bolt up she slaps me hard against the face.

"No No No, your are not going to ruin this for me! Your going to take me whether you want it or not. " she pants as she lines up "Your going to take me until your properly breed! "

I feel as she pushes in and I begin to cry. "So just enjoy it, enjoy your purpose! "

I try to stay positive as this happens. Think thoughts like at least she prepared me, maybe her seed won't stick and my friend will be home any momment. But I can only think that way for so long as she holds my legs up and starts pounding into me like a animal. Panting "tight" "warm" "love" "breed" over and over again as she uses me like a toy. One that she going to leave broken and cum filled like all the others.

Then I think about how she going to break me by the end of the day and how she'll leave my cunt a gaping mess in the shape of her knot. God no the knot, she hasn't even pushed the knot in and it feels like agony. Despite me thinking that there's the smallest voice in my head telling me it feels good and to rock back into it.

I ignore it, especially as she goes hard and harder fucking me slower but so much deeper. I hear as she moans and grunts and takes what she wants. Fucking me with reckless abandon as she chases her high dragging me along with her. And then I feel it. The burn of being stretchered more and more as she desperately shoves her knot all the way inside before final shoving it all in and bitting. It all happens so quick first I'm in pain from her tearing me open and then from her sharp teeth being buried into my kneck.

She let's out a sharp growl as she keeps moving her hips before spilling into me sending me falling down the ladder of pleasure and pain along side her. My vision goes white and I hear panting it takes me a minute to realize it's my own. I try to wiggle around but all I feel it taunt of her knot a her cum sloshing around painting my womb even further.

She growls "Don't move. Let my knot go down and then we're going again and again until it's not possible for you not to be pregnant. "

I begin to cry and then I realize it's not just going to end after today, it takes the average Alpha a week to go through their rut cycle. I begin to sob as I think 7 more days of this. Then I realize not 7 every day she mated me which means every day she's going to... She mated me and breed me. Which means I'm hers I begin to shake and have a coughing fit.

She then rubs a hand through my hair "Ssh it's ok our children are going to look so beautiful. Our little litter. " she says kissing our mating mark as I continue to sob.