#he loves himself he hates himself he's the greatest ever he's lower than the low ✨

[dnangelic]

tbh it's kind of interesting to me that dark always wanted a merge and completely rejected krad's idea of keeping daisuke's body for himself. there's the obvious reasons as to why like dark simply Not Wanting to be Krad and loathing operating at all as an 'infection' forcefully taking over their bodies and completely erasing the hikari's selves--- hiwatari's 'if a shadow is behind the circle, then you have a hole' (if the shadow is within the circle, you have a full sphere,) line comes to mind, throw in the whole dark is love / krad is sorrow thing, and you get the idea that 'grief and intense unregulated sorrow doesn't just take something away from you, but also makes you lose parts (or sometimes the whole) of yourself,' but then what does that say for dark? love and desire can change you into something you are, but aren't? (in both a healthy, and also very ominous and unhealthy way, of course.) had dark and any of his hosts actually 'become one' wouldn't you end up with a brand new third entity, a literal composite? my intrigue comes the most from the way that dark at least superficially behaves in such an intensely independent way, but then between stealing for half-selfless reasons, his miserable history, the way he outright desperately doesn't want to be forgotten even if he thinks poorly of himself as a bad person and yet also avoids/excises himself from so many intimacies --- was he really willing and interested in becoming one with his hosts even if it meant getting rid his old, individual self?? for all his bravado and natural arrogant personality, all the signs pretty much point to dark and dark alone wanting to merge so that he'd either be 'better' as a person, more suitable as a real, proper human being, and/or so that he wouldn't have to be, (or rather, keep being,) alone???

[wildmtthyme]

What is Love? Baby, don't hurt me.

Simon doesn't believe in love. He thinks it's the greatest lie ever told, experience has taught him that. Not personal experience, but experience nonetheless. Never mind the fact that he's in a long-term relationship. Never mind the fact that him and his girlfriend live together. Never mind the fact that they have a dog. All of this doesn't matter until he's confronted with that very topic he hates so much. And then his world is tipped upside down when his best mate is KIA. Simon is forced to take a hard look at his life afterwards.

Master List can be found here.

Chapter 2: The Call of Duty (come on, it was too easy of a name not to pick it.)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Language. P in V Sex. Condom usage/Safe Sex (is that a warning, though?) Emotionally distant Simon (duh).

<- Chapter 1. The Topic of Love

Chapter 3. The Cost of Duty ->

The sun wasn’t up yet but he was, dressed and ready to go. He leaned down over the bed, pressing his lips to her brow. “I’ll be back soon.” He said what he always said. She nodded; her eyes barely open. She set her hand to his cheek and he felt her rub under his eye with her thumb. He ran his thumb over her lips before he bent lower and kissed her, soft at first… before he found himself pushing his knee onto the bed… his hand pressed down into the mattress as he climbed onto her. His tongue found hers and he hummed low, hearing her gift him a beautiful moan.

He wasn’t sure how long he kissed her, his mind buzzing and fuzzy when he came up for air. “Fuck… I gotta go…” He breathed out heavily, pressing his brow to hers. She nodded. Her hands were in his hair… she was looking up at him with her big beautiful eyes, the light from the hall giving him more than enough to see by. He nodded back but his hand was moving on its own… the sound of Velcro ripped through the silence… he tugged his vest off and let it fall to the side, she was kicking the blankets off. C’mere… he exhaled heavy as he started tugging at his belt buckle impatiently.

He hadn’t planned this… he’d never actually done this, gotten ready to leave and then not been able to… suddenly wanting her so bad that he felt like he was going to claw his own skin off if he didn’t have her. “Need ya…” He breathed out roughly before he kissed her again. It took no time… no time at all before his jeans and boxers were stuffed down his thighs… her panties torn and hanging uselessly around her hips… the condom rolled on with practiced ease… his face buried in her neck as she clawed at his still clothed back while he fucked into her, bullying his cock as deep in as he could each time. Fuck! Si!

He groaned low, trying to spread his knees and getting frustrated that he couldn’t… he reached down and shoved roughly, getting one knee out was all he needed before he spread them as much as he could, his hips canting as he started snapping them… angling his hips just right… ramming that spot inside of her over and over until he felt her tighten around him. “S’right… c’mon… s’good girl… come fer me…” He breathed out roughly, sweat beading on his brow, having not put his mask on yet. When she came undone, he found his teeth sinking into her shoulder as he groaned long and low, his cock kicking wildly as her cunt pulled on him in a rhythm all its own. His body surged against her, rocking hard enough to make the headboard knock against the wall as he emptied. He kissed his way to her lips, giving her a passionate, almost sloppy kiss before breaking it, panting breaths heating the air between their lips.

“Gonna miss ya, love.” He breathed out low, as if the words were forbidden. He saw the way her eyes softened, a small smile pulling at her lips. You know what I wanna say. He nodded, nuzzling into her hand when he felt it against his cheek, he pressed a kiss to her palm, knowing he was showing her far more affection than he really ever had before. But this mission… this one was different. “I know.” He said quietly before he started to untangle himself from her. He cleaned her up gently before he tucked her back into bed and finished redressing. He gave Sam a good scratch behind his ears before he walked out the door. “Protect ‘er while I’m gone.” He murmured low before he shut the door, the dog’s eyes watching him go.

[hedgiwithapen]

For Dammit Hedgi Day I'm going try the Librarians for a missing scene. Any of the other crew to Ezekiel: why did the devil give up on you so quickly?

(set after the s2 episode with the devil and contract)

It was weird to be doing nothing in the Annex. It wasn't a place for doing nothing. If Stone or Cassandra weren't scrabbling around trying to find some bit of research, then Jenkins was. If Ezekiel wasn't poking around at various artifacts, then Eve was...usually trying to find out what he was up to to stop him. 

It was so still now, with just the three of them on the cots and the lights turned low. Jenkins hated when the lighting was dim, railed against it as if poorly lit libraries were one of humanity's greatest sins.  But he'd been the one to lower them, with another admonishment to stay in bed.

Ezekiel would have disobeyed, really he would of.  No prison could hold him, after all, and a scratchy blanket on a folding cot was the least secure place anyone had ever tried to confine him. They were in the room with the magic portal door, for crying out loud. But exhaustion was a powerful lock. He stayed in bed. 

"Hey," Cassandra mumbled from her cot, one arm dangling a little, tracing patterns on the floor. "You guys ok?"

"Mm," Stone said from Ezekiel's other side. "Been better. Been worse."

"I'll live," Ezekiel said, what could only be a chortle escaping after it. he clamped down. They were all alive. Without Jenkins, they'd be dead under that small town. It scared him, though he'd never say it, how lucky they'd gotten.

"Question," Stone said after a minute. " Did... did any of you..."

"Consider it?" Cassandra asked, quiet. "No. I did once before, a deal with the devil. Or, uh, disgraced knight of Camelot. In case you forgot."

"We didn't," Ezekiel said. He could feel Stone's sharp look. "Hey, she asked."

"Well, I still didn't," she said. "And I was too far gone, I think. Maybe if I'd had my... If I'd been able to think. To see you all, I..."

"Yeah," Stone said. " I wasn't too steady either. What about you, Jones? Why'd the devil give up on you so fast?"

"How would I know?" Ezekiel shot back. It was... not quite a lie. Ezekiel Jones prided himself on his skill to cut the truth so precisely no one would ever guess what he was holding back, or that he held back at all.  "Maybe he figured  you two were the more heroic types."

"Maybe," Stone said. "Maybe he thought you'd worm your way out of it."

"And I would have," Ezekiel said. "If I'd made a deal. Which..." he shrugged. "I was pretty woozy. Who knows?"

They seemed to accept that, the uncertainty, the haze.  

He knew, though. With sinking clarity that Jenkin's magic tea couldn't erase the way it cured the natural gas poisoning, he knew. 

Everyone had a price. Ezekiel had learned that young. Most people, they looked at his reputation, at his record, and they figured that meant money.  Ezekiel knew that was a load of horseshit. It was almost never about a bank account balance. There was what you could live with, and what you couldn't, and sooner or later there was something worth ... well, whatever it was whatever devil was asking for. They'd offer money, offer freedoms, whatever they thought he'd want. 

It helped, that the image he'd built wasn't built on a lie.  Ezekiel Jones did the impossible, loved almost nothing more than the thrill of doing what no one else could. he always had. Maybe that was why the Library had thought he'd be a good fit, even at 14.  But that barrier was all anyone saw, devil or friend; Guardian or government. And devils, at least, offered deals, not threats. 

Sess had given up, moving on to easier targets, he'd thought. The upright hero, the girl on a timer, both who telegraphed their real desires so easily.  Ezekiel was glad of it.  He could almost feel the feather in his hand.  He'd signed away his soul once before, metaphorically speaking. He knew what he'd sign it away for real for. 

Just as long as no one else did, that was fine by him. 

[cdroloisms]

i love all your super angsty stuff, but sometimes i want to see dream go apesht and be powerful and confident and frightening again, y'know? maybe a little unhinged still but making everyone realize that THEY made this monster by putting him in the vault O_O

OH YEAH ,, unhinged c!dream my beloved (/lh) 

c!dream when he’s a hot mess, ever so slightly (or not slightly) off the rails is SO much fun to write and read ,, he’s so messed up to himself and others and makes me go like >:D the entire time 

im not sure if this is what you wanted, exactly, but boy was it fun to write. c!sam,, is not having a good day lmao 

tw: blood, violence, implied torture, offscreen murder, death threats, mental instability, emotional distress, dark content, prison arc/pandora’s vault, c!sam critical (not really? But I digress)

Ranboo is in the wrong place in the wrong time.

He thinks, halfheartedly, that that could be the name of his autobiography. What To Do If The Universe Hates You, an Advice Book By Ranboo T. Beloved doesn’t sound too shabby, all things considered - it’s applicable, at the very least. It’d been true with George’s house, true for the Butcher Army, true when he’d been the one that Techno found in search for his armor back, true now, with sirens blaring from the prison that he’s coincidentally probably the closest to out of everyone on the server. Part of him wants to just ditch the place for Snowchester, as he was originally planning to do; unfortunately, caring about pretty much everyone means caring about what’s going on with their greatest enemy, especially now that Wilbur’s been revived.

Ranboo hurries towards the prison, dunking water by his feet to activate his trident. It only takes him a few Riptides (what can he say - he did say he was close to the prison) for the beach in front of the giant, dark-walled structure to come into sight, two figures stood in front of the smaller box containing the Nether Portal. One of them, standing tall and wearing glinting purple netherite, is clearly, unmistakably Sam, which means he other stranger- well, not stranger, exactly, must be Dream.

Ranboo skids to a stop on the hillside, not wanting to jump into the fray until he knows exactly what’s happening; Techno’s voice rings in his head (the element of surprise is one of your greatest weapons in battle) then Phil’s (what he means is don’t be an idiot, mate) and he settles, silent, to observe with an enderpearl readied in his hand.

It’s no wonder he didn’t recognize Dream, at first - he looks nothing like the man that Ranboo remembers, almost doesn’t look like a person at all. His hair is long and tangled, hanging in clumps around his face. Even from the distance, he looks like a wreck, all sharp edges and skinny, shaking limbs, a heavy netherite axe hefted in one hand. Ranboo shudders at the sight of the blood already on the blade, at the various injuries painting the orange of his prison uniform more red than orange, and looks to make sure his sword is close at hand.

“Prisoner,” Sam’s voice is gravelly, tight with stress. He sounds the same way he did that one time he confronted Ranboo about the prison books he didn’t remember signing, the pages filled with strange runes that he somehow could understand- “Stand down.”

“Sam-” Dream laughs, high-pitched and grating, and Ranboo’s tail lashes anxiously. Dream’s hand raises to his face, his shoulders shaking as the other hand tightens over the handle of his axe, “Awesam. Sammy- I told you, didn’t I? I fucking told you what would happen.”

“Dream-”

“Unless you want to end up like Quackity, I suggest you stop talking, Warden.”

It’s quite a sight to see someone in fully armored netherite cower from someone completely unarmored, looking more dead than alive, but well - it is Dream, and Ranboo finds himself cringing back at the words even though he’s not even in the area. He steals a look at his communicator; the rest of the server has noticed the sirens, it seems, but nobody seems to understand what exactly is going on, much less be ready for a potential fight, and a nervous shiver runs down his spine.

“Sammy,” Dream stalks forward, his axe braced in front of him, “Look at you. You’re so goddamn pathetic-” He spits the words like venom, back hunched, center of gravity pulled close to the ground - he looks more mob than human, watches Sam with the same wild-eyed desperation that Ranboo’s seen in a starving wolf chasing down prey, “Such a fucking coward that you couldn’t do shit yourself. Well- good for Quackity, isn’t it? It sure ended up well for him.”

Ranboo shivers, looking at the blood staining the netherite blade with ice rising in his chest. No- he didn’t-

“You know how good it felt to plunge this axe into his neck?” Dream laughs, the sound raspy and unsettling, making Ranboo shrink back in his hiding spot, “You know how many times he threatened to do the same to me? You know how many times he’s used this exact fucking axe to cave my ribs in?” He hurls the blade down and Ranboo reaches out with a wordless shout, watching as the axe strikes the earth in a spray of sand, “HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES, SAM?”

“Dream-”

“Don’t- You don’t get to call me that,” Dream pulls the axe back, looks up with another round of breathless laughter. “You- don’t you fucking dare.”

Sam draws back- Ranboo can’t place the expression that flashes over his face, something a little like fear, something a little like guilt. He doesn’t seem to try and say anything, a sword appearing in his hand.

“So you want to try this too,” Dream’s voice pitches low, becoming something hysterical, almost amused, “Sure! We’ll play. Try to last a little longer than Quackity, will you?”

He flashes forward, much much faster than he should with the amount of injuries that claw over his arms and legs, brings the axe down in a heavy clang that is only barely met by Sam’s sword. Ranboo looks left and right, tries to find others coming to the Warden’s aid, finds none. Dream’s pace is ruthless, bringing down the axe again and again, hardly reacting when Sam catches him by the arm on his blade. Sam hisses in alarm as the axe handle is swung into the inside of his arm, loses his grip on the sword as the back end of the axe catches it at the base. Dream heaves in shuddering breaths, axe clanging against Sam’s armor and sending the creeper hybrid toppling to the ground with a sharp exhale of breath, presses the bloody blade beneath his chin.

“You know-” He smiles, pressing the axe forward further, making Sam lift his head as he falls back against the sand, “You were kind of useful, you know? You and Quackity, I mean.” Dream hisses angrily, words pitching lower, “Do you know what’s the easiest way to make someone hurt? Do you know where to hit someone for it to cause the most pain? Do you know how it feels to break every bone in your fucking body? Quackity said he’d make every fucking day of my life a living hell.” He raises his axe, foot ground down on Sam’s arm, “How about I return the favor?”

Ranboo throws his enderpearl.

He raises his sword, braces against the vibrations running up his arms as the axe crashes down on it with a grimace as he readies himself to fight. Dream draws back for a second- “‘Boo?’

“Ranboo, run,” Sam shouts behind him, pulling his arm to his chest as he moves to stand, “Get out of here-”

“No, no, I think he can stay,” Dream’s eyes flash, harden. “Figures that he’d play the traitor once again, doesn’t it Ranboo?”

“I was never your ally-”

“You and the rest of this damned server, ‘Boo,” He laughs dangerously, draws back as Sam gets to his feet. Ranboo watches as he kicks up Sam’s sword, catching it in his left hand. “Oh well. As much as I would’ve liked to take another life-”

A flash of blue-green, and there’s someone else standing there, a crossbow loosely held in one hand, smiling lazily through his hair.

“-it looks like my ride out is here.”

“You’ve made quite  the mess,” Wilbur drawls, rolling his eyes at the man beside him, “I have to say- I’m a little impressed.”

“Wil,” Dream breathes, shoulders visibly falling, looking at the other man with a sort of soft-edged reverence that makes Ranboo shift uncomfortably at the sight. It feels off, wrong, to see him go from a raging, frothing thing to someone docile, expression filled with a mockery of adoration.

“We’ll be off then, gentlemen,” Wilbur salutes with one hand, lips quirking up. “No hard feelings, Ranboo, Sam,” he nods at each of them with their names and tosses an enderpearl into the horizon, Dream doing so at the same time, “We’ll see you around.”

Ranboo watches, lungs heaving, as they disappear.

“...you know, Sam, I think we might be in a little bit of trouble.”

[sly-merlin]

wishing for you | j.suh

Requested : birthday proposal

9 February

"Don't lick the plate hyuck!"

Mark's strict voice rumbled in the private room of the restaurant, catching the attention of the whole family. Everyone let out noises of disapproval at his filthiness, including yuta's toddler who was taught the expressions by none other than hyuck himself.

"Why are you getting annoyed at me. It's all because of the birthday boy. What kind of man cuts the cake at the end of the dinner. I came for the sweet treat not for chicken and shrimps."he huffed, leaning back into the chair with his arms crossed, indignation dancing on his face.

"Yes it's time to end the night with a blast."you announced and stood up to call for the cake. The voice through the intercom assured you of the arrival of the cake in less than two minutes which honestly felt like an hour to you. Even though the reservations and the decision of the special dinner menu was taken with everyone's consent, the life of the birthday party, a cake, had been left for you to choose. Your stomach churned with anticipation as you fancied about the design you gave to the restaurant service five days ago. There was no way johnny wasn't going to love it for it had all of his favourite elements in it and it was also from his favourite Baker. Everything seemed to be perfect.

The door was pushed from outside and you turned yourself to face the incoming trolley but before you could do so, you were whirled around by strong arms, clearly belonging to your boyfriend.

"Don't push me around johnny. I wanna see the cake!" You said, moving forward to see beyond but his grip on your shoulders was firm. What shook you was the fact that he immediately circled you again to change your positions. Though you faced the door, you weren't seeing anything in actual, for his hands on your eyes had thrown you into sudden darkness. As incomprehensible as it was, you wished he wouldn't play the games on such crucial times.

Slowly, the hand on your eyes went downward, light coming through again. All the weight on your body was released at the same time. You stared at the door for a few seconds, adjusting to the light before lowering your gaze to finally look at the masterpiece that had consumed your days to come up with. But the cake you were met with was nothing like your imagination or the sketch you had provided earlier. You vividly remembered each and every detail you had asked for and this was not it.

Instead of the camera lens on the top tier, there was a small key was tucked upside down, the second tier didn't contain any of his favourite JCC quotes and the lower one was a total disaster. Totally beautiful disaster! The photos you had provided to be pasted on it were nowhere to be seen. Instead it was filled with edible candid Polaroids of you both.

Both.

Realisation dawned on you as you reached for the key fixated on top. It was not edible! It was a real key with a real keychain on which your initials were engraved.

Swiftly spinning, the boy almost had you on your knees.

Actually, he was on his knees.

And his stretched hands held the prettiest sea green velvet box, insides of which were shimmering solely with the purpose of blinding the viewer.

"Can you please fit this film in your life camera?" He asked.

You knew the day was near. Honestly, you had been anticipating it, since months. But now that he was really below your eye contact, wearing his heart on his sleeve, a stupidly expensive diamond glowing in his hands, eyes pleading for a nod of affirmation, you found yourself speechless. The more you looked at him, the more your vision blurred.

"Will you-you marry me y/n." Noticing your delayed response, he licked his lips in nervousness.

Instead of a yes, a quiet sob left your mouth, lips quivering to control the overflow of emotions.

"Why are you crying baby." Standing tall on his feet, he asked you with a worry laced voice. Closing the box, he engulfed you in his arms, tightening his hold as you cried harder.

Once you were quietened, he came down on your eye level, a low chuckle thundering through his chest.

"Do you hate me that much." He jested, taking your face in his hands, one of which fisted the box.

"Yeah i hate you that much."

Gasping at the unexpected reply, he continued,

"Why suddenly? Oh. Do you want an emerald perhaps?" He worriedly asked again.

It was your turn to giggle as you hit his chest with your palm.

"No. You ruined my cake. I had designed it after so much thought and you had to come and spoil everything. And why are you proposing to me today! This is supposed to be your day you fool."

"What can i say now. I just wanted to gift myself something." He politely whispered as his thumbs rubbed against your cheeks.

"What gift"

"You." With fingers lovingly tucked under your chin, he finished,

"You accepting this foolish man is going to be the greatest gift of my life. All these years, all the candles i blew, the only thing i had ever wished was you. Now is the right time i guess."

Finally stepping away from you, he removed the ring from the box and placed it aside on the dinner table.

Taking your hand, he questioned again,

"Would you perh-

"Hurry up johnny" you smiled and he did. Slipping the ring into your third finger, he pulled you flush against his chest. His lips chased yours to give you the sweetest kiss of your ten year relationship.

A few sharp sniffles forced you away from your fiance, the surroundings finally emerging again.

"Wh-

You had totally forgotten that you weren't alone. The whole army has been carefully watching you since the very start and few of them were crying by now.

"Why are you crying?"you asked

"This is so sweet. I wanna marry too." cried Hendery.

"Find yourself one. This one is mine." Johnny stated, pecking you again.

" shall we cut the cake love?"

"yeah. But first tell me how come everyone knew about the cake but me!"

Requested by @theworld-accordingtocasey Can I request Johnny proposing to me at the birthday dinner me and the neos throw him and when before I tell him yes I’m crying about I’m supposed to give you gifts not the other way around😭 and him being like “you telling me you will become my wife is the gift that I wished for when we cut the cake” pretty please ♡

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

peanut butter balls w clyde

A/N: ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE ANGEL... @maybe-your-left I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY WITH YOURSELF! I AM NOW GOING TO UNSUBSCRIBE TO MY OWN BLOG..

Warnings: Voyeurism, BLUE BALLS, tw: pregnancy, tw: breeding kink, cum eating, masturbation, dirty talk, also sweet talk because Clyde is baby, cowgirl style, fondling those BIG BALLS, copious amounts of description of horsecocks, copious amounts of cum (just a swimming pool size full of his cum if you will), just pure fuckin’ smut and fluff because I cannot get off the DadBod train tonight or ever (thank you @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather I love you forever), tw: mentions of somnophilia, tw: I am back on my bullshit and better than ever bitches! 

The clock read five in the morning as he stared it down menacingly. Having just gotten home from the bar to your sleeping form peacefully huddled against his pillow, inhaling the sweet scent of him while he slaved away at work.

He laid down gingerly, careful not to disturb you as he knew you hadn’t been sleeping too well given the state you had been in over the first few weeks of it all. The vomiting, the tears, the rush of hormones coupled with outbursts of anger and pain from your breasts had all been weighing on you. 

He gave you your space, knowing from his research that the second trimester would be so much different. Hoping the book wasn’t lying to him about that and waiting as patiently as he could for you to come around. 

Those nights he’d find you keeled over the toilet, cursing his name as he stumbled through the door of the trailer. He hated all of it, wishing he could take the ugly parts away for you. But he knew, and so did you, that it was all for the greatest adventure yet, so it was worth the endless tears and heartburn. 

So, on nights like tonight, he’d rub the stray hair from your face, peeking under the covers to place a gentle hand on that growing bump of yours, hoping soon he’d feel a little kick as he teared up thinking about how amazing you were for growing this precious baby. 

He loved you even more than he could count on his fingers and toes, and when you’d both found out, it was both a sigh of relief and joy as you both finally had the thing you’d been afraid wasn’t possible. It was perfect. Except on these nights when he couldn’t sleep. 

When he ached for your luscious cunt enveloping his after a long day’s work. He wouldn’t dare wake you up for it, for fear of the mama bear wrath, but godammit did he wish you were having just as tough a time sleeping as he was. 

He tossed and turned, the light of the clock seemingly getting brighter as he huffed around in the bed. Clad in only his boxers, as he kicked off the sheets in a fit of frustration, his tent very apparent as he adjusted his blue balls in between his thighs, the burning sensation causing a low hiss to leave his mouth. 

“Fuck me,” he whispered, getting up with his good hand to sit his huge frame on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face in it as he let out another heavy sigh. 

He strained up, cracking his back as he meandered to the living room and then the kitchen. Shuffling to the kitchen window, he huffed, looking out into the blackness of the early morning, thinking about making himself something to eat to curb his lack of sleep. 

He padded over to the fridge, grabbing his favorite huckleberry jelly out of the side door, then the pantry to get his bread and peanut butter. Laying out a paper plate as he slowly opened the drawer to grab a knife, making damn sure he didn’t make a peep as he slathered the contents together. He pulled the stool out from the island, straining himself to not scoot it too loud on the tile while he devoured his sandwich in the light of the kitchen. 

He looked around, reaching for some chips you’d left out on the counter earlier, crinkling the bag to get a few out before he became thirsty. He strained back up, the pain in his balls returning with every movement as they hit his meaty thighs. 

“Jesus,” he whispered, gripping them in his hand before he took another step, “I gotta do somethin’ ‘bout this,” gritting out as he got the gallon of juice out of the fridge to cop a swig from it, knowing if you had witnessed it he’d be in the biggest trouble. 

Letting out a huge sigh and a burp, he got back on the stool and finished the rest of his five AM snack, still feeling that dulled pain in his lower half as he tossed the remaining things in the trash and plopping on the couch to turn on the TV as he still didn’t feel tired. 

He mindlessly flipped through the channels, settling on a sitcom before wincing in another sharp pain as he adjusted himself, legs spread wide on the couch. His cock still half-hard knowing your half-naked ass was laying in bed, no doubt the wetness building up from your sleep. He loved surprising you in the morning, feeling that slicked up pussy as he would snake a hand or his tip in between your folds, waking you up in the best way he could think of. 

His dick twitched at the thought, his hand sliding in his briefs as he gripped his thick girth at its base, unveiling it in the brightness of the TV. 

His chest heaved, the sensitivity that had built up over weeks of nothing was too much for him to take at this point. Spitting on his large hand as he spread the slick over himself, his dripping tip mixing with his saliva as he traced his bulged out veins along his shaft. 

Throwing his head back at the feeling, wishing it wasn’t his hand fucking himself, and picturing that pretty mouth of yours covering him from stem to stern. He pumped his hand up and down steadily, setting the scene for himself while he closed his golden eyes.

You were perfect, knelt in between his thick thighs, kitten licking his tip and pecking sweet kisses on his tummy while he begged for you to do more. Your gorgeous eyes boring into his as your lashes fluttered in innocence licking a long stripe from the base to the tip. A beautiful moan escaping your lips as your tits hit his sensitive sac. 

You grip his belly in your delicate hands, kneading and scratching at it for leverage while you shoved your mouth over his length, the gag escaping your chest causing his breath to hitch as he watched you take him like the good girl you were. 

He thrusts on himself sped up, thinking of you bobbing your pretty head on his large cock, the spit, and tears streaming down your cheeks and jawline in a sloppy mess while he pushed up into you. Holding your pretty hair in an iron grip as he lead you down on him more, your one hand snaking down to grip his pained sac and rolling it in your fingers while he exhaled a groan at the sensation. 

“Goddammit baby girl,” he gritted out, feeling the warming of his release creep up slowly as he kept his imagination running on and on. His eyes still closed as he jerked it on the couch, seemingly unaware of how loud he truly was in the moment. 

You had woken up a few minutes after he’d begun, leaning in on the doorframe as you bit your lip looking at your big bear going to town in the living room. His thick cock making the drippage seep out of your bare cunt as you tried to keep as quiet as possible. 

He kept up with his thoughts, blissfully unaware of the mess he was making you feel in the moment. Your lower belly burning for him as you gripped the little bump that had become more apparent as of late. 

Crossing your legs to avoid more leakage, you leaned your head on the frame as well, reveling in the sweet sounds your husband was making on the sofa. His grunts, curses, moans, and groans were enough to make you blush as he repeated your name over and over. 

The strains getting more feral as he neared his orgasm. You inched forward just before he was about to burst, knowing the faces he made so well as you crawled on your hands in knees like a tiger stalking its prey. 

“Holy s-shit, Y/N,” his low baritone muttered out, the speed on his angry cock had picked up as fervently as he could possibly go in the moment, his precious face conjuring up in all signs of pleasure as the sweat dripped from his temples, his teeth gritted while he tried to reach his edge. 

You watched his hand move in tandem with his hips, moving just snuggly in between his tree-trunk thighs as he kept his motions going. Your eyes found those heavy balls of his, watching as they began to twitch from his end. In a fight or flight moment, your hand grabbed them, rolling them so sweetly and delicately as his eyes burst open in terror. 

“Y/N?!” he jumped, the sensation pushing him over to squirt out a thick rope on his belly as you massaged his sac to the end of it all. 

“That’s it, daddy,” you cooed, eyes hungry as he spurt out more and more cum from his tip, his heavy breaths coming in high as he winced more and more of his spend on himself, “cum all over the place big bear,” salivating as you saw the amount that has built up on his stomach. 

“M-mother f-fuck d-darlin’,” he growled out, watching your eyes follow the load as you hunched over his softening cock. 

Your lips touched the warm baby gravy, beginning to lick and suck every drop along with trails of hickeys on his precious tummy while your nails dug into his thighs, the crescents indenting on them as you finished your ministrations on him. 

You lifted your head, licking your lips as you swallowed his whole load, showing your tongue after all was said and done. 

“Where the hell were ya ‘bout five minutes ago?” he chuckled, catching his breaths as he watched you straddle his lap, your precious little bump touching his belly as you closed the gap on him. 

“I was sleepin’ honey,” kissing his lips slowly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his hand coming to caress your taut skin in your midsection, tracing slow circles as you kissed his forehead, “but I got woken up to a growling bear in the living room,” raising an eyebrow as you leaned back to meet his timid gaze. 

“‘M sorry darlin’,” he whispered, “I jus’ couldn’t sleep an’ I didn’t want ta wake ya up on account a ya not gettin’ that good a sleep lately,” his head bowing down in shame as he continued to avoid eye contact.

“Honey,” you pushed him to meet you again, “I know I ain’t been myself lately, an’ I’m sorry ‘bout that,” the pit in your stomach forming as his pout surfaced on his face, “but if ya needed somethin’ I woulda done it… No matter how late it was,” smiling as you pushed some stray hairs from his sweet face. 

“Psh,” he huffed, rolling his eyes slightly at the thought of waking you from a dead sleep, “baby girl, I ain’t ‘bout ta wake ya up fer ya to suck me off fer ten minutes so I can sleep,” he chuckled. 

“Why not? I know you’d do that fer me in a heartbeat,” cocking your head to the side as you took in his toothy grin. 

“‘Cause I ain’t gonna wake up a mama bear,” laughing out loud as he smoothed a hand on your lower back, “I don’t wanna get bit darlin’!” pulling you into a huge hug as you both laughed. 

“Well,” you got up from the couch, extending a hand to pull your man to bed, “if ya want… This mama bear needs a lil’ lovin’ from her big daddy bear,” winking as you inched him back towards the bedroom, “an’ I got a hankerin’ fer some horsecock right ‘bout now,” pushing him onto the bed while you straddled his hips, removing your t-shirt to reveal your fullness to him. 

His cock straining again under the weight of your slick cunt as it rubbed the length up and down from your grinding on him. 

“Ya like whatcha see daddy?” whining as you lined your entrance with his tip, his groans enough to send you into another stratosphere as you swallowed him inch by painful inch. 

“I love seein’ ma baby girl like this,” he strained again, gripping your hip in his hand as he pushed himself up into to you, “all full a me… It’s ma favorite thing in the world,” gritting out over your purrs for him. 

The sensation was magical. His cock teasing your cervix with every knock as he grunted his motions out while you ground your sloppy pussy over his pubic hair. The movements hitting your engorged clit with every rub and tug from the both of you melting into each other. 

“I love bein’ all full a you big bear,” wailing out as you gripped his huge tits in your hands, your own dangling in front of his face as the sound of wet slaps penetrated the room. 

“Ya?” he growled out, setting an even more punishing pace as he watched your jaw drop and your gorgeous tits bounce, “ya want me ta keep ya like this? Breed ya ‘til ya can’t take it no more?” the words hitting your bud as your spine tingled in your impending orgasm. 

He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew the words and the movements to get his baby whining and moaning like a complete whore under or over him. He may have been a simple country boy, but he knew his way around his wife, and what went straight into her cunt besides his large and in charge dick. 

“G-Good G-God yes daddy!” the tears spilling as you rag-dolled over his large frame, the orgasm spilling over you in an unexpected wave as his words cut to your very core. His motions grew erratic upon feeling your flutters clench around him in the most delicious way. 

He watched your eyes meet his again, the blackout you’d sustained fading away as overstimulation set in. His grip tightened even more as he began to spill into you, his relieved cries reverberating around the room as he felt your warm cunt suck up his spend. 

“J-Jesus baby girl,” he groaned, his balls completely empty as you fell to the side of him in a thud, your breaths coming in tandem with his as he gazed at you. 

“Ya alright mama?” he pet your growing bump with the utmost tenderness, “I didn’t hurt ya ‘er nuthin’ did I?” glancing a look down at your figure in a panic before your hand reached his cheek. 

“Ya didn’t hurt me or the baby at all big bear,” caressing his cheek as you pecked his plush lips, “we’re jus’ fine,” smiling warmly as he exhaled a relieved sigh, his eyes fluttering in his impending tiredness.

“I think daddy needs ta go ta bed, whatchu think baby bear?” giggling slightly as a smile crept over his face in total relaxation, his circles slowing as he stilled his big paw over your baby. 

“Goodnight daddy,” whispering on his forehead as his breath evened out, and his limbs went limp. 

________________

In other news, you ever have a job as a waiter? 

taglist: @maybe-your-left, @safarigirlsp, @clydesfavoritegirl, @emeraldsiren20, @thepalaceofmelanie, @obsessedwiththemadness, @hopeamarsu, @caillea, @historyandfandoms50, @mariesackler, @millenialcatlady, @thepriceofstars, @roanniom

LMK if ya would like to be added to any taglist of mine! All of my love!🖤 

[omgrachwrites]

The Princess and The Duke - Chapter One

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: As the Princess of Spain, you were always supposed to marry King James of England to make an alliance between Spain and England. When he marries a woman at his court for love, you are married off to his best friend, Sirius Black the Duke of Bedford to keep the alliance. However, the court is riddled with secrets and a rebel in the North starts to rise against the Throne. Royal AU.

Warnings: fluff, angst, swearing, Spanish translated by using Google Translate :(

Words: 2395

Disclaimer(s): This gif does not belong to me and I’m so sorry if this Spanish is wrong.

Translation(s): Mantenerte fuerte - stay strong

A/N: Here we are, the first chapter! This is by no means historically accurate hahaha! Can you tell that I miss the Spanish Princess? :( Hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think and let me know if you want to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

Chapter One - Oh, What a Circus

It was a beautiful awakening that you had on the day that your life and future changed, when you woke up from your siesta, your chambers were warm and the perfect Spanish sunlight was streaming through your sheer linen curtains. The room was cast in a holy yellow light like God himself was honouring you. You made the most of your siestas now because you had heard that the boring English people did not take them.

Smiling sadly, you plucked a sugared grape from the golden platter and you walked over to your window, relishing in the beauty of the Castile water gardens. You knew that you would never be coming back to this palace of such beauty and splendour again because you were to be the Queen of England. You were to live out the rest of your days in grey old England. It had been a betrothal since birth but you didn’t want it, you never had. Only your parents wanted it.

You felt your eyes fill up with tears – you didn’t want to be the Queen of England – and you prayed to God, telling him so and asking him for a miracle. It seemed like God had heard you and answered your prayer for a few moments later, your father was shouting outside of your rooms, his voice like rumbling thunder.

“How dare he insult us so? Bastardo!”

At the commotion you crept out of your rooms and into the hallway where your mother and father were talking, the hallway was hardly the place to be talking about this, “Madre, Padre,” you called out as you approached them.

Your father’s eyes softened as he looked at you but he still brandished the letter in front of your face, “that son of a whore King James has written to us apologising for he has taken a common woman to wife and made her Queen! We should ally with the French and invade England!”

A soft blossom of hope bloomed in your chest as you realised that you wouldn’t have to marry the King of England. But, you were also incredibly insulted, how dare he refuse you? You, who was the Princess of the Castile, was not to be refused

The Queen tutted as she snatched the letter from your father, “we need to be allied with the English, it’s been 16 years in the making, we cannot throw it all away. King James had been kind enough to propose an alternative match.”

Your father growled, alarming some passing servants, “he offers us the Duke of Bedford, a man who has bastards all over England no doubt. He’s not worthy of our greatest treasure,” your father smiled fondly at you as he cupped your cheek with a large hand and you smiled up at him.

You knew the Duke of Bedford – Sirius Black – by reputation; he held the French lands for the English. He was said to be handsome but had fathered many bastards. Your father was right, he wasn’t good enough for you, “Padre is right Madre. I am a princess and I should be marrying a future King, a Duke is below my station. I won’t marry him!”

Your mother’s eyes flashed with malice as you defied her, she had always hated the fact that you weren’t a boy; she had to pass on her crown to your older sister, “you will Y/N! The Duke of Bedford is the second most powerful man in England; the King heavily relies on his council. You will be a very powerful woman, also no one in Europe will take you now, you’ve been promised to England since birth and now they will get you. We will write of our confirmation and our thanks and you will set sail for England as soon as possible Y/N. the Queen wants to meet you before you go to the Duke’s lands in France,” she looked at you without warmth as she strode down the corridor. She was a ruthless leader but you almost looked up to her.

Your father smiled at you kindly as he kissed your forehead, “Mantenerte fuerte Y/N,” he whispered against your skin.

“Mantenerte fuerte Padre,” you repeated with a smile as you looked into his kindly, weathered face.

The day before you were due to set sail for England you were taking a walk around the Castile water gardens with your lady in waiting, Sofia. You feared that this was the last time you would see the radiant Spanish sunshine and Sofia must have sensed your fear because she took your hand in hers.

“We will see this land again Your Highness, with your children. England is but the next great adventure,” she told you wisely and you smiled at her, squeezing her hand gently as you sat on the stone benches.

“I really hope so Sofia.”

The crossing to England was slow and gentle but the rocking motion of the ship made you rather sick, so sick that you were sure that you would die. Sofia was at your side, sponging your forehead and the back of your neck as you sobbed, you wanted to go home. You missed your parents already. You even missed your mother with her cruel words and scathing retorts, she acted like she was the King herself but she was the strongest woman you knew. You hated leaving your father behind with her.

Finally, after what felt like years at sea, you saw land again and you could have wept with joy, even if it was dreary and dull, it was supposed to be springtime. You disembarked from the ship with shaky legs and you were met by the English army who all bowed low to you, “Your Highness,” they muttered as they sank into the sand. You made the most of the fact that they were using your proper title; you weren’t sure how long that would last.

You chose to ride alongside the army instead of residing in the lavish litter that the English had prepared for you. You wanted to see as much of this new country as you could. The first thing that you noticed about this land was that it was very green and you knew that England must get a lot of rain. That thought did nothing to cheer your dark mood.

Though, you missed Spain terribly, you saw the charm and the beauty of the English countryside and the villages you passed through, you smiled at the peasants as they called your name. You hoped that you would grow to love this new land because you would be coming to live at the English court after your wedding.

The English court – and London - was much more beautiful than you had anticipated even if it was a bit constricting. Nerves swarmed in your stomach as you were admitted into the magnificent Throne Room and you noticed that all the lords and ladies of court were looking at you like you were some sort of strange beast. It was in the Throne Room where you saw the most beautiful and dazzling woman.

Queen Lily had long curling tresses of flaming auburn hair and she had the most beautiful green eyes. You almost admired the King for defying everyone and marrying the woman that he loved. True love was all that you wanted but you were unsure whether you would ever have it, you had been unsure about that fact since you were a little girl. Queen Lily was smiling at you with beauty and kindness in her eyes while the King looked at you warily. He should look at you like that; he should have been ashamed of himself.

You sank into a low curtsey, “your Majesty’s,” you muttered.

“Princess Y/N, thank you so much for coming here and accepting our invitation please arise,” the Queen smiled, she had a melodic voice. You smiled back and stood up straight.

“I apologise for the insult that I must have extended to your family,” King James bowed his head mournfully and you had to admit that he did look very sorry.

You shook your head, if the King started to apologise to his subjects then he would seem weak to those who would want to take his throne, “you’re the King,” you said simply, “I am happy to marry the Duke of Bedford,” you lied.

King James chuckled as he ran a hand through his messy curls, “well, I’m sure that Sirius will be delighted to hear it,” he grinned and the court chuckled obediently.

Queen Lily giggled; it was a musical pretty sound, as she got up from her throne and walked towards you, taking your hand in her warm one as she looked at you with a kind smile. She was as warm as the Spanish sunshine, “I would be delighted if you and your lady would join my household when you return to court.”

For the first time that day you didn’t have to fake the smile, “we would be honoured,” you smiled at Sofia who nodded eagerly. You were touched by her kind words; she smiled and lowered her voice so only you could hear.

“We ladies must stick together; it’s a man’s world after all.”

You smiled as you shook your head, remembering what your mother had told you years ago, “no your Majesty, it’s a woman’s world, men just live in it. I know it’s hard to believe but in time you will see it.”

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

Sirius’ springtime dream had come to a rude and final ending, he had spent his days among such beauty and pleasure that he never wanted to stray from it. No man would. However, duty – and his King – called him and he couldn’t refuse the call. He had to leave behind his life of pleasure for a life at court where friends would stab each other in the back. Sirius was getting married and he didn’t want to dishonour his future bride, even if he would resent her. So he had to say farewell to his mistresses. They were sad to see him go.

Sirius had been best friends with King James since they were boys and James had made him such a powerful man than Sirius was only second to the King. James had been betrothed since birth to Princess Y/N of the Castile. At first Sirius was jealous that James was to wed a Princess but then again, he was going to be the King, it was his birth right. Sirius was surprised when James had come to him about four weeks ago to tell him that he had secretly married Lily Evans, a very minor lady at his court.

James’ marriage meant that the contract with England was void unless there was another match for the Princess. At first Sirius had resisted the match, he fought and raged against the King before he stopped and really thought about it. He had to marry well and he couldn’t do any better than the Princess of the Castile, a young woman who had been promised to the King. Sirius knew that he wasn’t good enough for her but he was used to coming in second, to his younger brother Regulus, and to James.

It was a beautiful day in France the day he was to meet his future bride and hoped with all his heart that it was a good omen. He jumped as the door flew open and James strode in, grinning like a Cheshire cat, “come on Sirius! Y/N is here and she’s as fair as they all say,” James beamed, it seemed like he was really happy for Sirius.

However, that didn’t stop Sirius from grimacing, “then why didn’t you marry her?” Sirius mumbled, combing his fingers through his hair as they walked down the hallway.

James snickered as he slapped Sirius on the back, “because I fell in love,” he said it as if it was the answer to everything, “and I wish you and Y/N the same.”

“Not bloody likely,” Sirius muttered as they descended the stone steps and walked out into the glorious French sunlight.

Butterflies swarmed in Sirius’ stomach as he looked towards Lily and Remus – the Earl of Warwick – who both nodded at him encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, he looked towards his future bride and felt his heart jump up into his throat. Princess Y/N was beautiful; it was like she had just wandered from the pages of a fairy tale. She looked just like the Nymph that was featured in the tapestry that hung in the East Wing. Though, Sirius knew that beauty counted for nought if she had an ugly heart.

Y/N’s pretty eyes looked over the beautiful chateau appreciatively before she gained the courage to look at Sirius. Her eyelashes seemed to flutter of their own accord and her lips opened slightly as a pretty flush grew on her face and neck.

Y/N cleared her throat and curtseyed, her ladies following suit, “My Lord, I am pleased to meet you,” her voice had a wonderful little something to it due to her Spanish accent but it was still as pretty as a song.

Sirius smiled as he approached her and he noticed her eyes roam from his feet, stopping at his lips before looking into his eyes. Her eyes sparkled in the sunshine, like precious jewels. He bowed low to her and took her warm hand in his, pressing a feather light kiss to the top of it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness, you are most beautiful,” he said smoothly and her flush deepened, “in my household you will still be treated as a Princess, even after we are married,” he didn’t want to take that title away from her.

“Thank you, My Lord,” she smiled, looking pleasantly surprised, “your home is beautiful, I think that I will like it here.”

“Would you like for me to show you around?” he asked on a whim as he held out his hand.

She nodded, the sunlight rippling through her soft hair as she did so and she took his hand, allowing him to lead her inside. As soon as they got into the cool chateau Y/N let go of his hand. Sirius bit his lip as he rubbed the back of his neck as he nervously looked over at the beautiful princess, searching for the right words.

“I’m sorry Your Highness, you weren’t supposed to come here to be a Duchess, you were supposed to be Queen.”

Y/N looked at him and smiled wanly, in the depths of her eyes there was almost a look of understanding, “I don’t like being passed around England like a prized cow.”

Sirius nodded as Y/N stopped to marvel at a beautiful tapestry embroidered with a mermaid, “I understand, you won’t get passed around England. I promise.”

“Thank you, My Lord,” she smiled graciously as she bowed her head.

“Sirius, call me Sirius.”

------------------------------------ 

@smiithys​ @elayneblack​ @amelie-black​ @siriuslyjanhvi​ @pregnant-piggy​ @lindatreb​

[acuteagawa]

The Tainted Sorrow

So... I sinned again TwT. Extremely NSFW content ahead!!

Here is a little smut I’ve written in the span of a couple of days,, as usual it’s pure PwP because I’m a freak and I really love Chuuya so fucking much it’s not healthy anymore :) Please can someone talk to me about Chuuya :) I need to talk about him so much help :) 

A low sigh escaped his dry, chapped lips. Gods, he was so tired and so overworked that he had barely been able to remove his shoes as he opened the front door of the apartment. If there was one thing that Chuuya hated with a passion it was working overtime. Sure, he was one of the Port Mafia’s greatest executives and his job didn’t exactly involve having typical working shifts, but that didn’t stop him from hating those damned unexpected commitments; working during the night was something he despised mainly because that meant he wasn’t able to cuddle next to you.

Work had been boring that night. Truth being said, Mori hadn’t been providing him with exciting missions in a while, really. Every day was just like the day before, and the only thing that managed to keep him grounded was the thought of you, waiting patiently for his return in the comfort of his apartment. He worked hard just to keep you safe and spoiled, he would gladly work overtime for the rest of his existence if that meant he’d be able to provide for you in every way imaginable, just like you deserved. You were his queen, after all: everything he did, everything he was able to achieve and everything he cared about was you. You, and you only.

It took him a couple of months of dating before he finally found the balls to ask you to move in. He had been clear from the start about how dangerous and deadly his job really was: you didn’t exactly know everything in detail, but you knew enough to trust his suggestion. Chuuya was extremely paranoid when it came to you and your safety, and at the end of the day he considered himself the only man who was really able to keep you safe: during the first months of your relationship, he tried to leave you some space alone, scared that his crazy life would overwhelm you and that you would leave him for someone else. Someone normal. At first, his most trusted henchmen were the ones appointed with your safety: he made sure they’d follow you closely almost everywhere, without you noticing anything out of the ordinary. He was fine with for a while, but everything changed after you were almost injured during a car crash. His obsession with you and your wellbeing became so strong that it managed to keep him up at night, paranoiac thoughts about loosing you started coursing in his brain during his every waking moment. He couldn’t afford to loose you, you were the only person in this world who accepted him and his many flaws, he treasured you like you were a doll made of the finest porcelain. 

Needless to say, Chuuya had been thinking about you all day, as always. His henchmen had informed him with a call of your return to his apartment after the end of your shift in the late afternoon, and told him that you didn’t leave after that. After that, his mind was at peace: knowing that you were in the safest place you could be helped him relax enough for him to keep working during the night, with a wide grin on his lips. He just couldn’t wait to find you safe and sound in his home and finally feast on you.

He was also pleased to notice that you were finally growing accustomed to his rules. A soft smile crept across his features as soon as he reached the front door and gingerly noticed that you finally complied with his request of locking yourself inside. There had been quite a number of fights over this matter: you criticised him for being too obsessive and overprotective, and he was furious at you for being too careless and not serious enough about danger, even after all his warnings. Chuuya grabbed his keys from the pocket of his long coat and turned the doorknob, unlocking the front door with a clack of his tongue and an eyebrow raised with satisfaction. He yawned loudly, kicking the shoes away from his feet as he stepped in the comfort of his home; it was past midnight, he didn’t expect you to still be awake and waiting, so he hurriedly hang his coat and hat somewhere and headed straight to his bedroom. 

His heart started pumping ten times faster at the mere sight of you, sleeping softly in his oh so big bed while wearing one of his looser t-shirts, which was hugging your tiny body in all the right places, leaving nothing to the imagination. His grin widened as his hooded eyes ranked all over your sleeping form, taking in your peaceful and blissful expression: he loved waking up to your soft huffs, and he considered himself the luckiest man on Earth to be able to fall asleep listening to the sweet sound of your heart beating against his chest. Fuck, he loved you so much it was almost embarrassing. Not to mention, the tiniest glimpse of your white panties showing from underneath his t-shirt was setting his loins on fire; truthfully, he’d been hard for the majority of the day. Images of the night prior kept flooding his mind: he couldn’t stop thinking about how tight you felt, or how loud and strong you came on his cock as he coaxed the third orgasm out of your system with the harsh and quick snap of his hips. It was hard to believe that the sleeping angel in front of him was the same girl who had begged him to fill her up with his cum the day before, almost crying because of his teasing.

Chuuya wasn’t exactly an egoistic man, he was usually generous and kind with you; he hated to be this selfish and actually wake you up, but he really needed you right now, as his own hand simply wouldn’t do it for him tonight. He needed to feel your insides tighten and twist around his cock, milking him until the last drop of cum found its place inside of you, his thrusts deep and punctuated against your sweet spot making you cry desperately. He wanted to hear your moans, feel your fingers scrape against his skull, pulling his messy hair while clenching down onto him. A low groan slipped from him as he lowered himself slowly onto the mattress. He was extremely tired and sleepy, but the tingling sensation of his strained cock was just too intense for him to ignore. You were still sleeping soundly, your sweet body was facing away from him while you hugged his pillow tightly. Chuuya hated himself deeply right now, disturbing you was the last thing he wanted to do considering how tired you’d be from work, but his mind was racing wildly and you were the only one able to help his current situation: his enraged erection was throbbing painfully against his work pants and to feel your skilled touch was all he could ever desire right now. 

His hands found their place against your waist, settling heavily on your hips while he pressed his chest against your back, hugging you lovingly. His face nuzzled in your long hair, inhaling the sweet vanilla scent he was so fucking addicted to; with one hand he removed the hair that was covering your milky neck and placed a few sloppy kisses on the sensitive skin there, up until his wet tongue found your ear and started licking it slowly. His hips started bucking unconsciously against your plush ass, eliciting a few groans and grunts which he spilled directly into your ear.

The feeling of his rutting stirred you from your sleep, the oh so familiar soft moans of Chuuya were the first things you heard as you wiped the sleep away from your tired eyes. You heard him grunt softly, one of his hands was anchored at your hip, keeping you still, while the other one was skimming right below your t-shirt -well, his t-shirt-, the calloused pads of his fingertips caressing your ribcage gently, making you shudder. 

“Chuu-…ya?” You whispered softly, turning your head ever so slightly, just enough to meet his hungry eyes. The consistent feeling of his solid cock pressing against your behind made your voice tremble: you immediately understood how needy and turned on he was just by how hard his hands were grasping your hips. 

“Hmm.” He just hummed his reply, which you knew meant his mind was somewhere else completely. He was now aware of the fact that you were not sleeping anymore: as a result, the harshness of his thrusts and of his grip increased by tenfold, the softness of your sleepy voice only worsened the desperate need of burying himself to the hilt inside your wet warmth. His skilled fingers travelled from your hip to your panties, hooking gingerly around the elastic band and dragging them down with one swift motion. 

“Ah… Wait, Chuuya…” Your voice was reduced to nothing more than a whisper mixed with a pleading moan. You were still recovering from the past night, the bruises caused by the raw drag of his hips were still fresh and hurting, and you were still feeling too sensitive for him to just plunge himself inside of you, not so soon at least. 

“Y/N… What’s wrong?” The motion of his hips stopped as soon as he noticed distress coursing through your trembling voice. His brows knitted as he looked at you properly for the first time that night: seeing your sleepy, teary eyes in contrast with the deep blush of your cheeks did nothing to help the animalistic urge of bending you on all fours right then and there. But he knew he needed to exercise some restraint for your sake: Chuuya would never hurt you without you asking, no matter how angry or horny he was. 

“It still hurts… Please be gentle.” You whispered, your tiny hand reached for his much bigger one and wrapped around it tenderly, wanting to reassure him and slow him at the same time. 

He immediately understood what you were referring to and ultimately released some pressure from your bruised hips; he knew he had left some pretty nasty marks on you the other day, the memory of seeing you all marked up and filled with his cum sent shivers down the entirety of his spine, feeling his throbbing cock twitch in response. 

“I’ll try to be gentler this time, then.” He smiled gently while running the tip of his nose along your neck, followed by the feeling of his rough tongue licking just behind your ear. You shuddered at the sensation of his wet and sloppy kisses, which were playing as a great distraction from the intrusion of one first, long finger probing right at your entrance. You gasped softly, your hand wrapped around his with added strenght, guiding him and setting a comfortable pace for the both of you. 

You heard Chuuya groan lowly as he inserted the first finger inside of your tight core, unable to repress his moans as he finally felt your painfully narrow walls wrap and clench around his digit. He added a second one almost immediately after and this time you moaned too, wincing out of pure reflex: your walls were still extremely delicate and he was grazing inside with his nails, trying to find your sweet spot with each thrust. 

“How are you still so fucking tight… You’re swallowing them all up, did you miss me so bad?” He groaned while smirking, face buried deep into your hair as he tightened the grip of his arms around you, feeling your back arch away from his body. He was holding you still, pressed firmly against his chest, with three fingers buried knuckle-deep inside of you; the only things you could hear right now were the squelching sound of him playing with you, your soft moans and his quiet grunts. 

You were already a whimpering mess: he was now using his painfully long fingers to scissor you, while his thumb pressed light circles on your neglected clit, making you cry louder and move desperately to meet his pace halfway. Chuuya never allowed you to completely free yourself from his strong arms, so you grabbed his biceps and dug your own fingernails into his soft flesh, in desperate need to claw down at something just to anchor yourself. 

It didn’t take long before his middle finger was pressing repeatedly against your sweet spot: the feeling of his skilled fingertips mixed with the roughness of his calloused thumb toying with your clit made you twitch and press harder against him, a familiar bubble forming down your lower belly and threatening to snap at any given moment. You could feel his wide smirk as he kissed your head lovingly, thoroughly enjoying seeing you so desperate for his touch. Chuuya loved being in control, he loved to remind you that he was the only man allowed to make you feel like this, his name was the only one you were allowed to scream and his cock was the only one allowed to spill inside you. 

“Cumming for me already, hm? Do you like my fingers that much, baby? Answer me.” His tone was so dark, so lustful that you felt your walls clench at the mere sound of it. He increased the speed of his hand, chasing down your release like a starved man: he needed more, you needed to give him more. 

“Chu-Chuuya… Please! I’m almost..!” You cried loudly, throwing your head back so that it was now resting over his shoulder. As you opened your eyes, you found his dark ones already fixed on your expression, hooded and hungry: he loved seeing you like this, he could easily cum just from that. Harsh pants fanned against his face, you were so fucking close…

“Now now. We don’t want the fun to end so soon, do we?” As you heard him say those words, you also felt his fingers leave your core. Your walls clenched around nothing a couple of times, eager to feel something, anything. But Chuuya was a tease, even when the both of you were tired and exhausted from work.

You whined loudly, not really caring about anything else other than your own orgasm. He had been the one waking you up and now he was teasing? You simply couldn’t believe this man’s audacity. Your head whipped around, brows furrowed in a severe frown and ready to curse him for it, but what you were met with was possibly the most lustful sight you’ve ever seen in your life: Chuuya was watching your face intently, his hooded eyes meeting yours while his tongue lapped his fingers clean of your juices, moaning like a horny teenager.

“You taste like heaven, love. I’m scared I’ve become addicted to your taste.” He smiled crookedly at you, knowing far too well how to win against your temper. 

“You’re a fucking tease, Chuuya. First you wake me up because you’re horny and then you back off, you should know far too well it’s not funny.” You teased him back, implying at how frustrated he would always sound whenever you’d deny his release. Well, he made sure to punish you every time you tried to play smart with him, but he couldn’t deny that being teased felt like hell. 

He finally peeled his hot body from yours, a loud “tsk” escaping from his lips as he proceeded to kneel on the mattress behind you. You heard the distinctive sound of his leather belt being loosened, your eyes connecting with his once again before trailing down his torso and lower half: he was sporting a big tent in his slacks, it looked quite crammed and painful in there, but you bit your tongue and refrained yourself from commenting about it. You knew better. He clearly wasn’t in the mood to play anymore, you deduced it by the look he was giving you: his hooded eyes were glazed with a thin veil of liquid lust, his dark pupils were blown out and covered the majority of his blue irises, while his hands were making a quick work of his belt and quilted gilet. He tossed his clothes somewhere in the room without much care, and you almost laughed at how needy and desperate he looked.

“I’m simply complying with your request of being gentle, love. But since you look more than ready to me, how about lifting those hips of yours for me like the good girl you are, hm?” He continued, placing his hands on your hips and dragging you back towards his body once again, so that your ass was sticking out and he could easily press his clothed erection against your soaking entrance. You gasped at the sudden contact, still sensitive from his fingers and from the loss of your high. Your eyes peaked shyly at him, shuddering at the sight that was presented right behind you: Chuuya was unbuttoning his white dress shirt carefully, leaving it wide open around his shoulders for your hungry eyes to rank up the expanse of his toned abs and chiselled chest. His leather choker was hugging his viscous neck tightly, making you lick your lips just at the sight of it, a full contrast with his naked midsection. Fuck, he was so hot when he was this stirred up. 

“Like what you see?” He snarled at you, not failing to notice how you were almost drooling at the sight of his torso. You had to admit it, he was so full of himself but he had a really good reason to be, he was fucking beautiful.

“Of course I do, I’m just admiring what’s mine.” You grinned back at him, ass pressing harder against his pulsing cock in order to entice him to finally fuck your brains out. You were growing tired of waiting, you needed your release now and he needed his too, judging by how solid and hot he felt against your skin. 

“Well, that makes the two of us, then.” Chuuya chuckled softly while he draped himself over your body once again, his hard chest flushed against you back as he kissed and bit down onto your right shoulder harshly; you bit your bottom lip, trying your best to suppress your whimpers and moans while his rough hips were slowly and subconsciously humping against you from behind. 

You lifted your ass a bit more, forced by the strong hold of his hands on your tiny waist. Chuuya grunted loudly, the feeling of his cock colliding repetitively against your cunt was making him go fucking insane: with one hand he unfastened the buttons and the zipper of his pants and shoved them down together with his black boxer briefs, just enough to pull himself out of those damned clothes with a satisfied groan. He felt you stiffen at the mere sound of his zipper going down, but decided to immediately nestle his twitching cock between your slick folds instead of teasing you about it. He himself couldn’t wait any longer and he finally started rubbing himself slowly against your warmth, without the rough material of his pants separating the two of you. The velvety, leaky tip of his dick was pressing against your bundle of nerves with each and every thrust, driving you completely mad. 

Chuuya positioned himself back behind you: with one hand he was keeping your hip pressed still against his lower half, while the other one grabbed behind your neck and pushed your face down into the mattress. His dominance clearly turned you on, he was well aware of that; he knew how much you liked it when he was rough and cold with you, it never failed to stir you up no matter how tired the both of you were. You were such a good girl for him, always obeying him and granting every request without ever complaining about anything… How did he get so lucky? Someone like him surely wasn’t worthy of your love, he was positive you deserved better than him but that didn’t stop him from showing you how much he loved you and cared for you. His heart belonged to you and you only, just like his body and mind did. 

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” He sighed between gritted teeth, slowly pushing himself inside your wet warmth. No matter how cold and detached he wanted to be, Chuuya would always put you and your pleasure first. The urgent need to plunge his cock balls deep inside your twitching walls was maddening to him, but he knew he needed to be gentle and consider the fact that he had already ruined you the day before. 

Your reply was a hurried nod of your head, your hands were already clenching the silky fabric of the bedsheets underneath you; the feeling of his raw girth stretching you so deliciously was making it harder for you to breathe and stifle your moans, he was so big inside you and you were so sensitive that you could feel each and every pulsing vein grazing the ridges of your bruised walls. He entered you slowly, making sure you were able to adjust to every inch of his cock as he stretched you out once again: it stung a little, but that only added to the pleasurable sensation of finally being able to become one with him once again. His hips stilled just as he reached your hilt, buried balls deep in the warm embrace of your sopping cunt. 

“Fuck… Chuuya… S-so big.” You hiccuped, completely lost to the feeling of being filled by his throbbing length once again. You silently thanked him for being so sweet and considerate of your current state, you honestly thought you’d rip in half if he suddenly decided to fuck you hard and rough like he did the previous day. You hugged his pillow once again, hiding your face and stifling your cries into it as he started pushing his painfully hard cock in and out of you, slowly. He was testing the waters, trying to understand how deep you were able to let him go. 

Chuuya was on cloud nine. He’d been waiting all day for this, your tight pussy was wrapping around his shaft oh so perfectly, greedily swallowing him all up… It was totally worth the wait. He knew he wouldn’t last long like this, he was so worked up already that he needed to make sure you’d be able to reach your high as soon as possible: he would never allow himself to cum before you, not when he was the one who selfishly woke you up from a peaceful nap just to relieve the itch of his loins. He bit his bottom lip harshly, a roar rumbling deep in his chest as he observed you struggle to keep quiet underneath him while hugging his pillow tightly; he wanted to be gentle, he was really trying his best not to hurt you: he retracted his hips slowly, leaving only the leaking head of his cock inside of you, but after a couple of seconds the urge of crashing his whole length back inside was just too sweet for him to pass up. With a quick snap of his hips he stretched you out abruptly once again, making you scream at the force of the pace he was now establishing. Chuuya started fucking you hard and deep, that position was allowing him to reach your soft spot with each thrust, his large tip battered against your sensitive insides with ease. 

You muffled another loud cry by biting down into his pillow when you felt his skilled fingers reaching down between your legs, the rough pads circling and pinching your clit once again, but this time he made sure to synch the rhythm of his thrusts and fingers, leaving you breathless and sobbing under the weight of his body. 

“Are you close? Tell me how it feels. Let me hear you cry for me, come on.” His warm breath was fanning against your ear as he whispered those words to you so sinfully. You knew he hated when you hid your moans from him, they really turned him on and he needed to hear them loud and clear. The unforgiving pace of his hips and fingers never faltered, and you felt warm tears running down your cheeks at the intensity of his large cock pistoning into you mercilessly. 

“Yes! Please baby… Make me cum, I’m so close Chuuya… Fuck!” You hiccuped and moaned loudly, feeling his fingertips quicken their pace over your clit, the familiar bubble in your lower belly threatening to burst with each snap of his hips. He was buried so fucking deep into your cunt, his tight balls slapped against your ass loudly as he started battering your cervix.

“Fuck, Y/N… Am going to fill you up so fucking nicely…” Chuuya groaned loudly, the feeling of your pussy clenching slightly onto him was a clear signal that you were close. He was glad, since he was about to burst and spill himself inside of you any moment now. He grinned lowly and started rubbing you fiercely, the promise of being gentle completely forgotten and thrown out of the window.

It took only a couple more of those harsh thrusts for you to come undone with a strangled moan: your hips gave out on you, but he was quick to grab you and keep you still as he continued to fuck you mercilessly through your orgasm, making you twitch and spasm from oversensitivity. You cried, eyes rolling back as your hands closed around his wrist, a silent request for him to slow  down, but Chuuya was chasing his high like a fucking beast: he was groaning loudly, a thin layer of sweat covering his golden skin and his hooded eyes were focusing down where your bodies connected, the sight of your tight cunt clenching and swallowing him deep in order to milk him of all his worth was enough for him to finally let go and cum inside you. 

He cummed hard, throwing his head back at the feeling of his balls tightening as he released his gift inside of you with thick spurts, his cock twitched and coated your insides with his seed. He cummed a lot, his orgasm was prolonged by the feeling of you cumming almost at the same time he did. You shuddered underneath him, the feeling of his hot seed filling you up to the brim made you moan softly as he pushed it all inside greedily, not a single drop of it needed to escape and be wasted. 

Chuuya savoured his climax for a while, the blissful afterglow of sex lingered on his face as he smiled with closed eyes, his brows knitted and mouth agape, humming his satisfaction. He was still thrusting his cock inside of you slowly, his forehead was now resting against your shoulder while he hugged you tightly, with a peaceful and grateful smile on his lips. The both of you were still panting slightly from the whole ordeal, extremely tired and sleepy, but nothing compared to the satisfaction of feeling so close and so complete against each other. You felt Chuuya leave a couple of wet kisses down your back before pulling out completely from your sensitive warmth; you moaned softly at the feeling of emptiness that followed, but mainly at the feeling of your fluids mixing with his and spilling down your thighs. 

“I hate to see it leave you…” Chuuya exhaled with a tired sigh, and you really didn’t understand if he was referring to his cock or his cum. Knowing him, he probably meant both. You could feel his burning gaze fixed down on you, examining his handy work proudly: he could see his cum plunged deep within you and spilling down your thighs and on the bedsheets, your clenching walls still trying to find him and your trembling legs threatening to give up on you at any moment. You were a good girl, and you knew he found an immense amount of pleasure in admiring his work and how ruined you looked because of him, so he knew you wouldn’t rest until he gave you his permission. 

You gasped softly at the sudden feeling of one of his calloused fingers collecting the cum that had overflowed on your thighs and slowly pushing it back inside of your sensitive cunt. Chuuya was a sucker for cum play, it had been clear right from the beginning of your relationship: he loved filling you up nicely and absolutely despised the idea of cumming somewhere that was not inside of your pussy or deep down your throat. Well, that was a completely different story when he was drunk, because drunk sex with Chuuya was absolutely freaky and he would cum everywhere on you, just to mark you up as his. He was now swirling his digit inside of you, mixing your fluids together and stirring it nicely, without letting any of it spill out. 

“Chuuya…” You whimpered as your legs trembled even more, too tired and exhausted to even think about the possibility of another round with him right now. The mere sound of your weak voice made his hooded eyes connect with yours immediately, even if they were so fixed and focused in his own little world just moments before. He grinned at you, pulling his now coated finger out of you and bringing it directly to his lips, licking it greedily and savouring the taste of your love with a low hum rumbling in his chest. Not satisfied, he offered you his finger just so you could finish cleaning it up for him, swirling your soft tongue around it and licking all your mixed juices away for him. 

“Good girl. I love you so fucking much. I’m sorry, I was too rough with you today too.” He smiled at you softly, finally removing himself from behind you and cuddling next to you, hugging you close to his chest. 

“I love you too. So much… Don’t worry about it, you’ll make up for it by changing the sheets.” You kissed him jokingly on the tip of his nose, getting up from the bed and away from his tight embrace. You honestly needed a shower now.

“What? Where do yo think you are going now?!” He half screamed at your actions, too focused on cuddling and too sleepy to change the bedsheets now.

“I need a shower and the bed needs some cleaning. But if you’re quick you can join me in the tub later, what do you say?” You smiled softly at him, reaching the bathroom door and closing it behind you, leaving him no room to talk back. 

Chuuya sighed, completely enamoured with you. He loved you so fucking much, he would gladly change all the bedsheets in the world if that meant he’d be able to cuddle next to you for the entirety of your lives. 

[abbynx]

Man's greatest treasure

(Monoma Neito X Reader)

You find it particularly difficult when it comes to clashing amongst the most the rich and important who has colourful arrays of expensively glimmering rocks sewn in their clothes while you wore second hand clothing you've inherited from your older relatives. You find it additionally difficult you were practically the most underdressed person, ironically the most eye-catching one in the banquet. It seems like being the favoured darling among the crowd in this party sounds ethereal... If they weren't looking down at you on their noses with their brows raised, probably questioning how a simpleton such as you be in an extravagant banquet hosted by the wealthiest and privileged family in Japan.

Silently heaving a sigh, your gaze simply met with the floor. It was then you noticed the rich texture of the material of it. For all you know, the floor you're currently standing on is made with the most rarest stone known to mankind but at least it does not negatively interact with you. The nasty glares from rich strangers never seem to fade out even if you try to divert your attention into something else. Your ears can't help but to do its purpose, you've heard the things they've said about you.

How the hell did they even got here?

Who in the world thought it would be a good idea to invite them?

Did they...? Crashed the party?

Ugh, their attire is sooo last decade

Aren't they supposed to be... not invited?

Who invited this peasant here?

You have always dealt about comments about you. Whether it was because of your physical appearance, your personality, your status, your background, your ambitions and you have come into terms with it... You were born from a poverty-stricken family who raised a person who will give them financial support. You have always been the pawn, the answer to their financial needs. For the booze, the drugs, three meals a day, a decent living space... However, there would be times you would find yourself getting strangled with extremely irrational thoughts. You would let them fuel the way you doubt yourself to a certain extent you've contemplated about your own worth. A pawn to your parents, a doormat to privileged people, a plaything for fate to entertain themselves with... A worthless nobody who serves the role as the floor scrubbing servant who feeds on the leftover from the plates of the privileged.

The only reason you were because of an invitation from the celebrator himself. Neito Monoma wishes to celebrate his success of landing as the top ninth hero with you by throwing am insanely large gala.

His family was old money, filthy rich and will only get richer and richer as the decades pile on. Their family have always been composed of famous and successful people. His father owns a large company for jewellery mainly rings, his mother is a famous fashion designer, his eldest brother is the heir of the company and as well as a popular influencer, his sister is the famous actress with myriad of talents for both Broadway and media...

And how could you forget your darling Neito Monoma? The top ninth hero of Japan. Talented, skilled, cunning, intellectual, successful... Compared to a plain nobody such as you are. You often questioned your relevance and worth and he hates it.

It was no secret his family does not like you. They never bothered to conceal it even if Neito was around. You've met them before, it was the time your boyfriend introduced you to his family in a simple family dinner in the Monoma estate. You can still feel their gazes bearing scrutiny and obvious hatred. Neito was by your side all the time and you appreciate it... But there would be times where you're starting believe his parents that he deserves better.

You have encountered his sister awhile ago. She was divinely beautiful, a deity incarnated with a rotten core. With a face barren with any superficial cosmetics, it was then you realize that she is effortlessly beautiful as much as she is effortless at being ugly on the inside. The way she scrunched her face upon seeing you present in her brother's celebration... It was disgusting that you weren't able to stand your ground, but your in the depths of your despair, your inferiority got the best of you instead.

"Oh, I thought he would have already broke up with you-" she gazed at your from the tip of her nose. "-dear brother deserves the best and only the best. Not some peasant dressed in poorly sewn trash. Even the floor has more worth than you." She says, before walking off. It was awhile ago, just before the gala was crowded with too much people, and yet it still lingers in your mind.

The floor even has more worth than I have-

"Ah, you've made it!" You find yourself snapping out of your irrational thoughts induced trance when a certain pompous voice took your hands in his, pulling you closer until your head rests on his chest. You gradually pressed your head against his chest with a sigh, entwining your fingers with his soft and slender ones. His chest lightly shakes with a light-hearted chuckle, wrapping an arm over the small of your back while his free hand held your hands. "I apologize for my tardiness, I was simply greeting guests individually... So I decided to greet the best for last." He strokes your hand with his thumb, before pressing your wrist against his lips.

He usually enjoyed seeing you vulnerable when reacting to his shameless acts of public display of affection. The way you would timidly avert your gaze from his smug, but oddly affectionate ones, the heat emitting from your face and the smile you try to defy. But this time he saw a different type of vulnerability in your eyes... You were shaken, your usual vibrant eyes were dull and casted down, your head lowered, your shoulder sagged and back haunched. Monoma Neito immediately notices your unusual discomfort and pulls you out of the crowd to a more obscured area by the balcony.

He walks behind you, puts his hand atop your shoulders and rolls it back. He proceeds to walk in front of you, taking your chin with his pointer finger and thumb, before tilting it up to have your lovely eyes meet with his. His lips formed into a soft smirk before stealing a peck from you. He lingered a little longer, savouring the sweet spark between you and pulls away to stare into your eyes.

"Darling, chin up-" he puts his curled finger under your chin, tilting it up. "-your crown is falling."

"Oh shut it-!" At the most highest range of your voice, you shoved him by his chest and turned away from him to face the gardens below the balcony with a red face. A low chuckle erupted from the depths of his velvety vocals and takes this as an opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and puts his chin atop your shoulder.

"Are you particularly uncomfortable with the crowd? If I've known it sooner I would have swept you off your feet and have you in my bedroom-" his finger began to wander by your shoulders, wandering by your collarbone and neck, before he found himself tracing your jawline and cheeks. He leans to your ear, his hot breathe fanning your skin as he acquired an enticing voice. "-we could've done so many things- OOF!"

You did not let him speak any further by giving him a good elbow by his stomach and pushing him away. Your cheeks burned hotter than the sun and the only thought you can pick at the back of your head was to jump off the balcony if he ever continued to fluster you like this. He doubles over in pain, clutching his stomach, but couldn't help but to laugh at your dirty assumptions.

"I was going to say reading books or watching a movie, but I see you have something else in mind," he laughs, wrapping his arms around your stiff figure. His laughs subsides with a sigh, before he puts his chin over your shoulder. "What's wrong, my love? You've been uncharacteristically silent the whole night."

You knew it wouldn't last long before he would address the elephant in the room. You were quite disappointed it took him a few minutes before he can see what's wrong. The moment he lead you out of the crowd, he knew something was wrong. You were becoming more easy to read the more he spent his time with you and you have no idea if it was a good thing or bad.

He sighs at your relentless desire to stay silence. You felt his lips on your cold neck, his cold hand grasping your hand and giving it a tight squeeze.

"Darling, please..." His voice was reduced into a more soothing tone. Genuinely concerned for your well being, taking you seriously... "Please tell me what to do to make you feel better..."

That damned voice he uses that instantly commands you to listen to him, to make yourself the best version of yourself just for him. Your chest started to well with pleasant feelings, knees started to feel weak, leading you to lean your body on his for support. He presses his body further, engulfing you with his comforting warmth. Neito gently strokes your arm in a manner to comfort you, just waiting for your answer.

"Is it my family again?" He asks, patiently waiting for your answer.

You sighed, turning around to face him. You leaned your head on his chest, grasping his hand in yours. "Promise me you won't confront them about it." You knew far too well he will find his ways to look for a loophole from your request, but at least you can hope he won't confront them because of you.

"... No promises." You rolled your eyes, lightly smacking him by the chest. He simply chuckles and caresses your cheek with a loving smile. "I'll try not to be too harsh."

You sighed, knowing full to well he might not abide with your conditions. "It's your sister..." You held the same hand he uses to caress your cheek, firmly pressing it. "She- she said that I'm worthless-"

"We both know it isn't true, my love," he smiles, kissing your knuckle and watches you squirm under his kiss. "You, my darling, are not worthless. You're priceless. Ignore my family, disregard their judgement. Their beliefs are all built in with vanity and you shan't let them affect you."

He deeply gazed upon your eyes, his grey orbs peering into your soul and piercing it with sincerity and reassurance. "No matter what they say, no matter what they do, you can't let them knock you off your humble pedestal. You can't let them dictate your worth. For you, my sweet sweet angel, are man's greatest treasure."

With tearful eyes, you embraced Neito, pressing your face against his chest. You denied yourself to sob, bursting into small whimpers as he strokes your back with his hand, swaying you from side to side to calm you down.

"It's alright my love, let it all out..." He comforts, kissing your cheek and letting you cry on his chest.

"I love you, Neito..." You wiped the stubborn tears away from your eyes, backing away from him.

He chuckles in amusement with sheer euphoria, he pulls you close. The distance between the two of you closed as both parties leaned forward to meet in a passionate kiss. He grasps your hand close to his chest, wherein his heart erratically pounds within him. After pulling away, he lingers for a second and leans his forehead against yours.

His lips touched yours as he breathlessly spoke, "I love you, too, my dearest Y/N. Remember you're worth more than you think."

[softboywriting]

Sunflower | Nathan Bateman | Ex Machina

Summary: You’re the opposite of everything Nathan is, and he adores you. [fluff][female!readerxNathan] [Plus size/curvy Reader] [Mild NSFW themes] [Light love at first sight trope] 

Word Count: 1.8k

|Masterlist In Bio|

The day you walked into the living area of the facility Nathan knew you were going to change his life. From the sunshine yellow dress to the neon orange luggage, your soft round thighs in bumble bee striped tights and your round face beaming at him from behind a pair of round glasses. Everything about you was the opposite of everything he knew and loved. Nathan was a man of simple things, neutral and natural tones, quiet and practical. How had you managed to end up here? Well. To put it simply you were the top programmer in the Blue Book internship and Nathan had noticed your work almost immediately. He wanted to meet you. How better than to allow you a month long internship with himself?

The first week provided much information for him. You liked to talk. You liked to share. You liked to touch. Oh the first time you touched Nathan he just about went berserk. It was nothing inappropriate, just a simple arm touch. But Nathan had been so starved for human affection it just about short circuited his brain. Not to mention you're the most adorable, beautiful, dorky woman he's ever met. You're so very much the opposite of everything he ever thought he wanted. You're perfect.

"Good morning." You say as you walk into his lab on the dawn of the second week. You've made yourself comfortable, familiar with everything he does. "No sleep?"

"Few hours." Nathan looks up from his work table and raises his eyebrows. "That's a new dress."

"It is. I wasn't sure if I'd like it. I got it before I left and I thought maybe it was too short." You pull down the back a bit. It sits just above mid thigh but your butt makes it lift a bit higher. "I think it's okay?"

"Turn?"

You turn around slowly and Nathan hums. "It's too revealing isn't it?"

"No, I like it." He smirks and you flush hard. "Don't tell me you didn't wear that on purpose. I know you're not that shy."

"Of course I wore it on purpose, I picked it out."

"You know I meant for me." Nathan sets his work aside and circles the end of the table to stand before you.

You swallow hard and he looks at you over his glasses. "What? Stop staring at me."

He hums. "You're hard not to stare at in a bright red dress. I feel so distracted. How ever will I work?"

"Maybe get your head out of your ass?"

"Oh you know I like when you talk dirty." He teases and you shove his chest making him giggle. This is how it's been since day one. Nathan made sure of that. He said fuck the employee employer relationship and just be people. Just be two people hanging out and doing cool shit. It wasn't too hard. You and him have a lot of the same type of humor and thought processes. Teasing came naturally.

"What am I doing today? Coding something? Programming some wetware?"

Nathan looks over at his work table. "I've got something else to do. Let's take a day off."

"A day off? I'm an intern. I don't really get days off. I'm supposed to-"

"Yeah yeah." He raises his hand to cut you off. "I wanna watch a movie with you."

"That doesn't take all day."

"A few movies." He takes your hand and pulls you along to the hall. "I'll even make dinner later. Lunch first and some breakfast. Whatever. We'll snack or something."

"Is this a date? Nathan, are you asking me on a date?"

Nathan looks back sheepishly. "Maybe?"

"How long has it been since you went out with someone?"

"A while."

"I figured." You thread your fingers into his. "Usually people ask each other out on a date, not just say they're gonna go on one with them."

"Right." Nathan spins you around with your guidance and you giggle. "What are you doing?"

"Dunno, just wanted to see if you'd spin me."

"You're so strange." He pulls you in and your heart stops as you press against his chest. Suddenly you're nervous because surely he can feel your tummy against him. He's so fit and you're not nearly as such. "Would you mind if I ask you on a date?"

"You're sure?"

"I don't mince my words, you know that."

"I mean even though I'm not like...your AI?"

Nathan looks confused. "What?"

"You make them how you prefer women right? Skinny? Small chest?"

"Oh, oh I see." He lays his hand on your arm, thumb rubbing just under the sleeve of your dress. "Let me tell you a secret."

"Uh huh?"

"I make them like that not because it's what I prefer, but because it's easier to fit the synthetic skin on the body frames. Sure I could make the frames larger but I don't need to because they're just prototypes based on a standard human muscular and bone structure and I use them for parts when I decommission them. It's easier to reuse the same size parts over and over. My finished product will come in all sizes."

You nod. "So, you still wanna date me, or rather go on a date with me?"

"I'd like to do much more than that but one step at a time." He chuckles and pulls away from you. "We'll start with breakfast and a movie. Deal?"

"Deal."

___________________

Another week passes and you're not sure where along the lines you went from internship to relationship with Nathan. All you know is that in a week you're supposed to leave, return to your life in New York and right now you're laid out on his bed while he works at his computer a few feet away.

You shift, the soft sheets slide against your bare skin. It feels so good, warm and safe. Nathan even has the lights down low, the tint on the windows set to evening mode. It seems to be early morning, the sun just barely rising.

"You're up early."

Nathan turns and looks at you, stretching his legs out. He's got on a pair of shorts and that's all. "Good morning, Sunflower."

"Sunflower?" You giggle. "That's my new nickname?"

"Absolutely."

"I don't hate it."

"Good." He turns back to his computer. "Go back to sleep. It's too early for you."

You stretch and curl into his pillow. "Come back to bed with me. You look exhausted."

"I'm working."

"I'm cold."

He scoffs. "No you're not, the bed is heated."

You huff softly. "Nathan, I'm only here one more week. You shouldn't waste time."

That gets him to stop. He doesn't turn but just stares at the screen.

"What's wrong?"

Then he turns and crawls on the bed, lifting the blankets to get in with you. He doesn't stop until he's on top of you, holding himself up on his elbows, knees bracketing your hips.

You run a hand over his short buzzed hair. It's so soft. "Use your words Nathan."

"One week?"

"Mmhmm. I'm only supposed to be here until the fifteen of this month."

"Do you want to stay longer?"

"Do you want me to?"

Nathan drops his head to your shoulder, kissing down until he's mouthing at the soft flesh above your boob. "I definitely don't want you to leave yet. I'm not done exploring."

"So I'm an experiment now?" You giggle as he presses his nose between your boobs, pushing them up with his hands.

He hums. "Maybe. If I were doing an experiment in falling hard and fast for a woman who is my polar opposite."

"Are you serious?" You grab his face and pull him up to look at you. "Nathan, do you really like me that much?"

"It kills me how much I like you. I thought maybe it was just because I haven't been with anyone or even been around someone in a long time. Maybe that still is part of it, but I can't get enough of you. You're so sweet, and smart and cute."

You pull him close and kiss him softly. "Everyone told me you were a hardass, a real stuck up piece of shit. That I shouldn't take this internship, that your last intern went home in tears. So you must really really like me."

"Well that's not very nice." He ducks his head and kisses along your shoulder to bury his face into your boobs again. "I do really like you though. I like your soft skin, and your soft tummy." He pushes your boobs up, filling both hands. "And these tits. Fuck I love them." He latches on to your left nipple with his lips and you squirm. After a moment he releases you and crawls lower, kissing down your chest as his beard tickles your skin. "I like your bright clothes and your soft hands and your sweet pu-"

"Nathan!"

"Yes, Sunflower?" He looks up, kissing gently along your bare navel.

You push the blanket back to expose him to the cool room. "Promise me that you want me to stay."

"I promise." He moves back up and lays his cheek on your boob and rubs his beard against it. His weight against your body is warm, comforting as he settles into you. "I want you to stay with me and be a part of the greatest thing I've ever made. I want you to stay and make me think, make me question everything I thought I knew."

"You're such a softie."

"Just for you. Everyone else can fuck off."

"That sounds more like the Nathan I first met."

He grabs the blanket and pulls it back over his head before taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. His beard tickles against your skin again and you squeal, squirming under his affection. "Did I mention I love these?" He mutters and you hum in response.

"Only every time you touch them."

"Can't let these babies go." Nathan changes to your other nipple and you arch up against him. "So responsive." He looks up from under the blankets and you take his glasses off, setting them on the pillows above your head. "You should be proud of these."

"They weren't my favorite until you got ahold of them honestly."

He clicks his tongue. "They're nothing short of perfect."

You shove his face and he laughs, resting his head against your chest once more. "You seem tired. Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Not much. Couldn't get my mind to settle down."

You rub over his soft short hairs, massing along his temple. "Then let's sleep together. You don't have to worry about me leaving in a week. We've got all the time in the world to build AI. Close your eyes and go to sleep."

Nathan nuzzles his face against you, sighing softly. "My soft Sunflower."

"Mmm all yours."

"All mine."

end 

---------

Header by delicate-venus

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you read or enjoyed and support content creators like myself - A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

[wornoutmouse]

Dio x black reader (18+)

Honestly, this is just my headcanon of Dio experiencing black girl magic for the first time. And throughout re-reading it I can't tell if I'm supposed to be horny, moved, or amused. I think this is my longest one

Chav: White Trash/Low ClassLove

Divots: Love handles but I wanted to be fancy

You were a cop that loved your job no matter the hardships.

Walking the streets of England was risky business as both a woman and a person of color so you had experienced numerous close calls with criminals that didn't take your training seriously. Your co-workers were peaceful enough, but you didn't miss the lustful glazes you would receive as you walked through the office every morning. Your boss, on the other hand, was a menace. Ever since you denied his advances when you first arrived, he's been making it his mission in life to make your life miserable. 

He, of course, was the reason you were standing outside at 11:00 in the night shivering under a night post. "That bloody chav, just wait till I move up in ranks!" you growled wrapping your trenchcoat tightly around your body as a soft gust of wind blew against you. 

The wind howled past your ears and for once you were glad for wearing your nautural hair out today as it braced fiercely against the strong winter winds. The night was quiet as everyone in their right mind had headed inside for the night but you couldn't help but feel as though eyes were trained on you. "Must be my nerves acting up again." you muttered rubbing your gloved hands together. You huffed causing cool white air to form in front of you. 

"Meow."

Shifting where you stood, you look around with only your eyes, trying to find the source of what you hope to be a newfound friend. A few feet to your right stood a thin tom cat walking hesitantly towards you. You crouch lowly, opening your coat to the feline, "Join me oh furry one, let us share our life source with each other!" 

 You chuckle at your own foolishness but stop as you watch in amazement as the cat seemed to be convinced as it stalks towards you. The cat was within your very grasp but before you could grab it, it jerked its head to gaze behind you, hissing with its back arched before it scampered off. "Huh, that's funny." 

 You stand back up before yelping as you back into someone standing behind you. "Oh excuse me." you say stepping to the side. "No need for apologize woman." a deep voice responds to you. The man was tall and you had to crane your neck just to simply gaze up at him. 

 Blue eyes gazed down at you through golden locks that fell beautifully over his face. Even though he had shown no sign of hostility, you felt great unease by simply standing near him. "Your declaration of neutrality for the cat moved me deeply." the strange man declared, and you couldn't help but giggle awkwardly at the obvious joke. "Yeah well, during times of need it's best to set aside differences." The man raised his hand to his chin in thought. "Couldn't have said it better myself."

 The man had yet to leave as his gaze became even more unsettling. His eyes traveled down and settled on your curvacious hips. "Um, can I help you sir?" you ask backing up slightly only for the tall man to evade the space once again. Under his breath, you could hear the man mutter, "Yes, you are perfect." 

You look up at the man one more time as your eyesight begins to fades to black.  

 When you came to, you find yourself lying down on a bed that was not your own. You were dressed loosely in nothing but a silk slip and you could feel goosebumps along your skin from being exposed to the cool air. "Wha-what?" You jerk your head at the shift in movement to your right. At first glance, you couldn't see anything residing in the dark shadows of the room. But having years of experience with being in dark places, your eyes quickly adjusted as you noticed the unfamiliar ways the shadows blended together.

 You stare blankly into the darkness, positive that something resided within the cover of it. You suck in a breath as you feel a small shift in temperature move past your face and you quickly turn your face to the other side of the room.

"As I thought, you adjust quickly to your surroundings." a voice rumbled from the darkness and you could hear your heart thump in your ears as two bright red eyes peered at you from the end of the bed. You brought your legs to your chest as you felt the bed dip. You watched with fearful eyes as your assailant crawled towards you. From the darkness, a hand reaches out at lightning speed taking hold of your ankle, dragging you towards them. "What do you want?!"

As if oblivious to your agitation, a calloused hand takes hold of your thigh, gripping the large expanse of skin tightly. "While you are larger than preferred, I assume it is a given if I desire a woman with hips wide enough to effectively deliver me respectable offspring." You sputter as you feel your face warm, "Offspring?! What in the hell are you talking about you deviant!" You attempt to throw a punch only for your wrists to be taken captive by much larger ones. "This temper of yours may be a problem however." The man chuckled, "Though I supposed that too is a given due to your, 'ethnic' background." You glare through the darkness up at the deranged man, "You have some nerve." 

As if finally acknowledging you as a sentient being, he gazes up at you, eyebrows furrowed and red glowing eyes determined. "Young woman, fear not and rejoice for you have been chosen for the highest honor imaginable!" You tense as the man comes closer to your face, 'Damn it, it's always the pretty ones.' you silently think to yourself. Though there was a large shift in eye color, this was indeed the man you met outside.

 "You have been chosen personally by I Dio Brando! To become his queen in the new empire I shall forge in my own image!" 

 Many emotions flowed through your mind at that bold statement, but in the end, humor won out as you burst into laughter in the man, Dio's face. Dio tilted his head in slight confusion before moving on, dawning a triumphant face one again.

"I know not what you find amusing, but I am ready to implant my seed deep inside your womb!" At that, you suddenly realize the reality of the situation you were in, "You can't be serious, release me now!" Dio chuckled humorously, "It is okay to feel frightened, but I assure you, I will make this pleasurable for you as well." You open your mouth to retort, Dio, serges forward latching onto your lips with painful passion. You feel a shiver journey up your spine as Dio's larger hands hold your waist squeezing your love divots.

Dio releases you from his lip-lock with a loud smack as a thin strand of saliva connects the two of you. You blink; slightly dazed as you take in Dio's equally as flushed face, "What's the matter playboy? Cat got your tongue?" Dio frowned at your teasing as he shifted in place, "Have you somehow cast a spell on me? There is no other way to explain how someone with such prestige as me could possibly become undone by a simple kiss."

 Dio serges forward once again capturing your plump lips into his own with such fervor, you would think he was searching for something. You moan softly into the kiss as Dio's tongue explored your mouth, caressing every inch of it with purpose. Tugging your lower lip in between his teeth as he retreats. He looks at you for a while with visible confusion before speaking again, "The only other answer for this is obvious. You were bestowed onto me by the gods carved perfectly to aid me on my journey" 

 You quirked an eyebrow as you breathe shallowly, mind seemingly clouded with your newfound lust. "I don't know much about what your babbling on about, but I'll let you carry on." You fell back as you are folded over by Dio, legs propped high in the air. "Though I feel that cunnilingus isn't needed for the task at hand, I hold the desire to taste you." You roll your eyes as you listened to the monologue 'Dio' declared to himself.

Internally, you knew that this was a bad idea and only evil could follow you in being involved with this man but some unseen force was keeping you from resisting as you lied compliant under the larger man. Maybe he was right and 'the gods' placed you here for a purpose. Or maybe you were drugged. The most obvious answer, though you hate to admit, was the fact that you hadn't gotten laid in so long, you were willing to accept charity cases.

 

Dip looked down at you with an emotion that even I, the author am unable to describe. While I would love to say it was fondness, that just wasn't possible for how short of a time you've known each other. The only other word I can think out would maybe be admiration. 

 Dio was one to go above and beyond putting his heart into everything he did, but your simplicity aroused him so greatly it was rather concerning. Your attitude towards him ensured that you would be the perfect queen when he molded you accordingly. Your looks were only a bonus, slender legs heightening your perspective making you at least 6 feet in height though that was no novelty considering his large build. 

Plump lips with a curious sliver of pink covering the entrance of your bottom lip as they parted so beautifully. The taste of them sent his head spinning as if he was addicted, the best kind of addiction. Your skin though shrouded in darkness, shined so brightly in the moonlight that he would have thought you were glowing with an otherwordly power. Dio once again bows his head and captures your luscious lips within his to experience the euphoria once again.

 He may have said that you should be honored to be in his presence but at the moment he felt the greatest honor for being one of the few and one of the last men that would be allowed to bed you. The small whimpers you released as he explored your mouth tasted like the sweetest nectar. He released you and watched your breast heave from the passion he released. 

 He would never admit to these claims but at that moment Dio looked as if he had struck gold as he pulled up your slip and kissed into the crevices of your stomach. You shiver as more skin was exposed to the cool air and you would have sworn Dio was even colder. "If you would, please allow me to taste you." 

Your eyes widened for even you could tell that this manner of speaking was not the norm for Dio. His face was unusually flushed as his red eyes gazed up at you pleading for your permission. "Carry on." was all you said before he continued on his journey, kissing your inner thighs which to your horror, were bare as the day you were born. "Sir, may I ask where my undergarments reside?!" you ask thoroughly embarrassed causing Dio to dawn that shit-eating smirk he has carried since the moment you met.

 "I saw no point to them as I knew they would be off soon enough." You pouted as Dio peppered kisses on your navel before finally licking your clitoris with his rather rough tongue. Dio felt as though he reached Nirvana as he drank in your pleasured moans. The taste of you on his tongue was like the finest wine and he couldn't tell if it was from his carnivorous attributes or were you truly a diamond in the rough. 

 You grip the sheets below you as Dio used his tongue to caress your folds before delving deeper into your warm heat. Dio had long since grown used to the feeling of being cold but the way your warmth surrounded him made him miss the feeling. Internally he debated with himself if this is what love felt like or if this was just the effects of having your thick thighs clamped around his head. While feasting, Dio couldn't help by growl lowly as your nimble finger-combed through his hair only to clench as he made a peculiar lick to your upper walls.

 Feeling satisfied for now he sits up chuckling at your whine as you reached out for him. "I was not going to undress more than necessary for this but I feel as though you have earned it my pet." Dio removed his jacket and shirt exposing his impressive muscles. You salivate thinking of the power behind each pectoral that would now be used on you. 

Dio once again takes hold of your legs, but instead of positioning to enter you, he lifts you off the bed holding you in his arms. "I shall honor this experience by trying a position I have never done before."  You are slightly woozy from the shift in elevation as you wrap your arms around Dio's neck with such a force and normal man would have cried out. 

 (but not dio cause he isn't like other girls)

 Dio kisses you as he presses a hesitant finger inside of you. You moan as he trails kisses down your neck. He was extremely hesitant to even nibble you due to his fangs but the way your looked drowning in pleasure was too great to not take advantage of. You jump as you feel something sharp pierce your neck but not deep enough to draw blood. You spasm on his fingers as your first orgasm takes over you. "God yes!" Dio smirked at your blissed face as he once again takes your lower lip into his mouth.

 "Yes, thank your God for giving you such satisfa-" before he could finish, you lifted yourself and wrapped your legs around his neck, putting all your weight on him in order to cause him to fall back on the ground. "Don't ruin this please." You say looking down at him. 

Dio couldn't look more in love as he takes hold of your ass molding it in between his large hands. You scoot down to Dio's still clocked cock. Massaging it gently, before reaching in and pulling it out, you release a loud gasp at the sight. His cock was enormous, far bigger than any you had seen before. "Don't look so surprised my dear, from now on only expect the most of me." 

You gulp shallowly as you shyly lick the shaft trying to find a way to lube the monstrosity. Dio grits his teeth and closes his eyes as a way to truly feel the pleasure you were delivering to him. You knew you couldn't take him all the way in but damn it if you weren't going to try. As you sucked down, you felt a hand come to rest on your head pushing you forward as Dio grunted. "Take it pet, you can do it." 

You whimper as you feel the head of his cock touch the back of your throat and continuing down. You do your best to breathe out your nose since it was obvious that Dio wasn't letting you stop anytime soon. You had only a little left to go but you knew you wouldn't be able to so you tapped out. Dio smirked grabbing your waist and sitting you down on his cock. Briefly, you rock back and forth covering it in your fluids before you feel like your ready.

"Because you've been so good for me pet, I'll allow you this gift though I personally feel that simply being in my presence you should be wetter than the ocean!" in his had, there is a small box containing a flask. "Alcohol?" you asked sniffing lightly over the entrance. Before you can raise the drink to your lips, Dio snatches it away, "It's oils my dear." you laugh a little scratching the back of your head.

 Dio's face reddened from the sound of your laughter but he shook his self out of his stupor before you could notice. Taking the lube back, you pour a generous amount on your hand before massaging it along with Dio's cock which had now turned a bit pink from being unattended for so long. "How long is this thing?" you mutter silently to yourself making Dio smirk flicking his hair haughtily. "I don't think I should tell you for your mortal mind would not be able to comprehend its glor-" Dio choked on his words quickly reaching out to hold your plush thighs as you slid down a 5th of the way on his cock. 

"Sl-Slow down, pet, w-wouldn't want you to hurt yourself!" Dio moaned as you lightly bounced holding your thighs in a vice grip. Throughout the dark and empty room, you could the high moans you released as you slowly but surely impaled yourself further. "D-Dio, I'm tired!" you stuttered out taking time to catch your breath. "Good." was all Dio said before he began fucking up into you pushing the rest of his member inside of you. 

 Tear's welled up in your eyes as you felt as if you were being split into by his brute strength. You fell forward on Dio's chest having no strength left in your body to hold yourself up as his pelvis slammed into you rhythmically. "Feel me. Feel as your body molds itself perfectly for my cock!" Dio grabs your arms and yanks them back forcing you to sit up and bounce on his cock subsequently making him sheath deeper into you. "Christ!" you cried out as you felt his cock reach impossibly deep inside of you. Your walls trembled with each push of your cervix.

 You were dripping limitlessly on Dio's stomach as your fluids combined together in a swirl of emotion. An emotion so great, neither of you could deny what was there. The way that this otherwise complete stranger was enraptured with you as he watched you boil over with ecstasy was an emotion unmeasured by any science the world would ever be able to come up with. "I'm coming!" Dio declared as he slammed your hip down as he reached his peak, spilling his seed deep within you just as he promised. You shiver as you felt a new kind of warmth filling you to the brim. Dio bends towards you, once again taking your lips within his as he circles your clit bringing you to a satisfying orgasm.

[perfectlymarilynmonroe]

Hey babe, I had a q about your last photo caption. The bit about Marilyn refusing to be a kept woman is somewhat misleading to me- didn't she live with Johnny Hyde for a time, and didn't his influence grant her favorable notice during casting for films like The Asphalt Jungle? Maybe I'm not remembering correctly, but I don't think their relationship was precisely sexual even if he clearly doted on her for a time. Obvi she got further on her own merit, but I do think that's an oft unexplored moment in her life that was definitely instrumental because of her choice to link up with him. Just wondering about your thoughts on this! Love the blog <3

Hi! Thank you for your sweet comments about my blog :) Sorry for the delay in response, but I wanted to give a thorough response to this. I’ve actually received a couple of comments on Instagram lately regarding this, and I don’t mind addressing this confusion.

*Disclaimer to everyone reading: This is based on the research I have done and is to address a number of issues. This isn’t to glorify Marilyn or deny any flaws or imperfections, but to state the facts. I’m publicly sharing this so I can later refer back to it. It’s a longer response to answer any follow-up questions I may get but, of course, you can still ask any you may have. ♡♡

--

It can be deceiving, but I think the bigger concern is what she took for what she got, rather than vise versa. If she was looking to be a gold-digging, role-stealing actress, she would have married Hyde the minute he asked her to. She would have inherited his millions and could have bought her way through Hollywood. For a young woman with hardly anything, she chose herself and said no. 

Just before she met him, she was getting help from John Carroll and Lucille Ryman, so when she said, Johnny was the first to believe in her, that isn’t entirely true. Due to her lack of a father-figure as a child I think that when she saw the belief in her from a man like Johnny, at a reputable agency, who was willing to do anything for her, she latched on to it.

Hyde’s co-workers at William Morris later reported being furious with him because he slowly began to abandon his other clients and focused only on helping her. In the case of The Asphalt Jungle, since you asked, it was actually the help of both Hyde and Lucille Ryman that she was given an audition. However, director John Huston later said she didn’t get the “role because of Hyde...she got it because she was damn good.”

In my personal opinion, based on the facts, whether did not sleep with Johnny - some historians even refuse to believe they were ever sexually involved - it was never for roles, auditions, etc. As I mentioned, if it were, she would have married him, taken his money, and used that to her advantage. She actually stopped seeing him - both  personally and professionally - by Fall 1949 because she was so sick and tired of being called, “Mrs. Johnny Hyde” by him and hearing from colleges that he was calling her his wife. 

When it came to being a “kept” woman, she was referring to the large number of “casting directors” or studio execs, etc, who faked an upcoming film to lure her into their office and attempt to seduce her, or held their hand on her thigh while she auditioned, almost forced her, etc... and each time she managed to walk out. 

She wrote an article entitled, “The Wolves I’ve Know” that was published in a number of places like Motion Picture in 1953, The New York Daily News, and more. When she met with Ben Hecht for her autobiography interviews, she also spoke of them and it was published in a London newspaper in August 1954, and in Australian magazines in 1955.

He did leave his family and move into a bigger place and invited her to live there, but she never officially moved in. She did spend quite a bit of her time there, but by early Spring she was living on her own and was very low on rent. This is why she posed nude on red velvet in May 1949. She admitted to thinking of asking men she knew for money to help her, but felt she wouldn’t have been able to forgive herself, and it made her sick to even think of it.

For everyone reading this, remember, she was twenty-three. She was still a very young girl and had grown up with little guidance in her life. She was abused, and was in and out of so many school and homes, she was never taught how to do things. She figured it out on her own, and of course, like anyone in that situation, maybe didn’t always make the best decisions or have the best thoughts.

--

I know this answer was very long, but I felt I needed to address a number of points because things are rarely black and white - especially for Marilyn Monroe, who is the subject of much scrutiny, then and now - and there are many things to consider in regards to a sensitive subject like this! 

I hope I’m not missing anything, but I hope it answers your question! xo

--

Below is a list of various quotes said by Marilyn that I hope everyone will find helpful :)

From “The Wolves I’ve Known” published in The New York Times:

The first real wolf I encountered should have been ashamed of himself because he was trying to take advantage of a mere kid. That’s all I was and I wasn’t suspicious of him at all when he stopped his car at a corner and started to talk to me.

He looked at me all over and then came up with that famous line: “You ought to be in pictures.” That was the first time I’d ever heard it, so it didn’t sound corny to me.

He told me he had an office at the Goldwyn studio and said why didn’t I come and see him and he would get me a screen test. It sounded pretty good to me because I was crazy to get into the movies.

I was modeling at that time and I asked the people who ran the agency where I got my jobs what they thought of his offer. The manager called the studio but never was able to get in touch with my would-be benefactor. However, the wolf called the agency and I made an appointment to go to his office on Saturday afternoon.

I didn’t know then that the producers and other movie officials don’t make Saturday afternoon appointments. I found that out later. I also found out that he didn’t really have any connection with the Goldwyn studio but had borrowed a friend’s office.

He was fat and jovial and, of course, drove a Cadillac. He gave me a script to read and told me how to pose while reading it. All the poses had to be reclining, although the words I was reading didn’t seem to call for that position.

--

Of course, there are other ways a girl could survive until another studio came along. A starlet could take on a lover, usually a well-heeled married man who could pay her bills, or she could become the mistress to an old man and through his connections help advance her career. Believe me, there were and still are many starstruck girls that do get by that way. But for myself, respect is one of life’s greatest treasures. I mean, what does it all add up to if you don’t have that? If there [is] only one thing in my life I [am] proud of, it’s that I’ve never been a kept woman.  

And believe me, it wasn’t because there weren’t opportunities to become one. I think I had as many problems as the next starlet keeping the Hollywood wolves from my door. These wolves just could not understand me. They would tell me, “But Marilyn, you’re not playing the game the way you should. Be smart. You’ll never get anywhere in this business acting the way you do.” My answer to them would be, “The only acting I’ll do is for the motion picture camera.” I was determined, no one was going to use me or my body—even if he could help my career. I’ve never gone out with a man I didn’t want to. No one, not even the studio, could force me to date someone.

You can’t sleep your way into being a star. It takes much, much more. But it helps. A lot of actresses got their first chance that way. Most of the men are such horrors, they deserve all they can get out of them!

The one thing I hate more than anything else is being used. I’ve always worked hard for the sake of someday becoming a talented actress. I knew I would make it someday if I only kept at it and worked hard without lowering my principles and pride in myself.

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Contending the Flame III

Author’s Note: Chapter Three is here, and it is my favorite so far. Thanks again for all the interacting with this story guys/gals, I’m glad I decided to post it after sitting on it for so long.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word count: 1633

Warnings: Language, master/servant dynamic

Ivar didn't know why he had decided to keep the nun as a thrall, but when Hvitserk had spoken in his ear about Ubbe off hiding with a Christian, anger was the first thing he had felt. He had got the idea in his head that maybe his oldest brother was softening towards the enemy or worse would take a second wife. Nothing could be worse than Margrethe, except a Christian.

Something had changed when you had been discovered fleeing from Ubbe's protection. It was the first time a woman hadn't fallen for one of his brother's charms. Let them know how he felt. Always women would fall in love with the sons of Ragnar, but never Ivar. His mother would whisper promises that his time would come, but as he grew older her empty words were cold comfort. Women did not want a cripple, but he would be so much more. He was touched by the Gods, and soon everyone would know his name.

When he first looked upon the Christian he held a strong sense of hostility that had been instilled by Floki. Their heavy garb and their gaudy crosses were everything he learned to hate. The Priest had suffered at his hands, and you would serve at his feet.

He found his way back to his makeshift chambers. It was a large storeroom that he had occupied until something more permanent could be established. They had only just finished securing York, but Ivar didn't favor the idea of lingering long, not when there were other places waiting to be conquered. 

As he entered his room, your large eyes found him before the door could shut. His men had left you tied to the post by the pile of furs in the center of the room, and at your feet was a bundle of new garments for you to change into. 

Ivar started towards you, and he felt a sudden thrill when you didn't flinch back. A brave front, but he would get it to crack. The sound of his crutches clattering against the stone floor carried with each step until he stood but a breath away from you. He was glad to be tall when standing, you seemed so insignificant next to him.

"Take off those clothes. You will no longer need them," He told you, waiting for a reaction. 

"How am I supposed to do that?" Your voice was soft. You raised your bound hands between your close bodies, before dropping your arms in defeat.

Ivar brandished a knife from his side, taking pleasure in the small gasp that you emitted when the cold metal touched the skin of your wrist. He sawed through the rope, and you were quick to rub at the sore spots that had been burned raw.

"There, all better," He quipped, but you made no move to disrobe, and his patience was growing thin. 

He grabbed at the veil on your head, wrenching it back to your shoulders. You threw a nasty look at him for the curt treatment, and that would have earned you a smack to the mouth if he had not been distracted by the oddness of your hair. There was little to be seen as if it had been sheared recently and had now only begun to grow back in short little seedlings. 

"Why is your hair like this? It's ugly." 

"I have no need for the frivolities of vanity."

Ivar studied your face scrupulously. Though he could speak your language, some of the meanings of the words you'd just used were lost on him. You did not seem slighted that he had just insulted your lack of beauty. 

"Were you punished?" He wondered aloud while letting his fingers graze over the soft sprouts of your hair. He hadn't worn his own that short since he was a boy, and likely never would again.

You flinched back from his petting. "No, it is something all the sisters have done. What need have I of hair?"

"A husband would appreciate a beautiful wife," Ivar japed.

"I am a Bride of Christ. I will never take a husband."

"Bride of Christ?" He found the title to be funny on his tongue, and he grinned at you. "It's true then, that you nuns don't fuck."

Your face lit up bright like the embers of a dying fire. "W-we are celibate, yes. Is that what you want from me. Are you going to rape me then?"

At the mere mention of the act, Ivar's face hardened, and he took a step back enough to let you breathe. "No. If I had wanted that I would have left you to my men. Now get rid of the rest of those clothes before I burn them off of you."

He started towards the makeshift bed, already tired of maneuvering on his crutches when it wasn't even midday yet. The blistering and the chaffing was a hindrance, but he had plans drawn up for something new to aid in his mobility. Together with the capable hands of a blacksmith, he would have his prize soon.

Leaving the crutches to stand against the wall, Ivar eased himself down onto the furs, adjusting his legs before himself as he faced to watch his thrall. You had knelt to grab the woolen gown that had been left for you, a lender from one of their women. These Christians had such a staunch sense of prudishness, so Ivar was astonished when you began to disrobe before him. Your white frock pooled heavily at your feet, and you took a dainty step out from the fabric. You kept your head down, but you did not blush like a virgin. Ivar did. His eyes couldn't seem to keep up with his thoughts. Only Margrethe had ever presented herself to him in such a way,  and he had forgotten how beautiful a naked woman could be.

Your skin was like milk, not loved by the sun or weathered from the wind and sea. You did not carry enough weight in the hips, and he judged you to be of low standing. On your left ankle, a small cut had scabbed over. It was the mark from when you had escaped from Ubbe. While Margrethe had held herself in a confidence that was tantalizing, you were shy. Every move was hurried to put some cover between you and his prying eyes.

"Stop," Ivar commanded.

The new dress was in your hands, but you halted in place. Your head tilted up, and you wore an agonized expression. "What is it?"

"You've forgotten something," He tutted, indicating the wooden cross that rested between your breasts.

You clutched it as if to shield it from him. "No."

"No? You forget your place, Bride of Christ," Ivar said, and he started to pull himself towards you on the ground. 

You grew startled, unsure of what you were seeing, and he took advantage of your hesitation by wrapping a hand around your leg and knocking you to the ground. With you stunned, Ivar crawled over you, trapping you between the floor and his upper body.

"I am not a man you can say 'no' to. You are my slave, I claimed you, and until I release you from my service, you will obey." He held himself above you, balancing on one forearm while with his other hand he reached for your cross. The cord snapped with one forced tug, and you tried in vain to pry it out of his hand. Ivar laughed. "Your god is no longer with you."

"God is always with me," You gazed up at him with a conviction that was captivating. "Whatever tortures await me from this day, you will never shake me of my faith."

With his clothed body draped over your bare one, they appeared locked in a lover’s embrace. Ivar was settled between your legs, but his broken lower half did not respond to your warmth and softness, and he resented the reminder. He wrapped his large hand around your jaw, tilting your head away to speak in your ear.

"What will you do, Bride of Christ?"

"Don't call me that, heathen," You spat. "I am Sister Mary Catharine."

Ivar eased his hold, but he did not relent. "I will never call you that meaningless title. What is your real name?"

"My old name is irrelevant. It is my past, and it was a path I chose to abandon."

"I figured you would say something of that nature." 

Ivar rolled off of you, and you were quick to snatch up the dress that had fallen to your feet. You now looked stricken with panic. So much for that strong front. But you continued to surprise him when you sought out his face once more.

"You never told me your name," You said, and he wondered if you were curious to learn more about him. It was a rousing thought.

"Ivar," He responded. As he observed you with this new knowledge, he decided on a new name for you. "And you are Ólaug."

You frowned, not comprehending a word of his language "What are you saying?"

Ivar grinned, and let out a laugh at your expense. He decided he liked the nun, even though he couldn't parade you around for your beauty like Ubbe with Margrethe. You would not be permitted to cut your hair again, and he would see to it that you were properly fed. If his father could foster a friendship with a Christian monk, then he could do the same with a nun. For Ivar, it was another sign from the Gods that he was fated to be the next ruler, the greatest of Ragnar's sons. Odin had smiled down on him that day, and he would not fail.

Taglist

@pomegranates-and-blood​

@siren-queen03

@peachyboneless

@didiintheblog

@soleil-dor

@zuxiezendler

@pieces-by-me

@xbellaxcarolinax

@heavenly1927

@everyartistwas-firstanamateur

@youbloodymadgenius

@xceafh

@shannygoatgruff

@tgrrose

@1950schick

@castielsangelsx

@rose1729

@mlchael-guerin

@strangunddurm

[nomazee]

Komorebi (6)

komorebi, final.

synopsis: Tsukishima dislikes the amount of parallels there are with you and Hinata. He dislikes the way you’re so energetic and exuberant when you want to be, and the way you can get along so well with people. He dislikes the way that people are naturally drawn to you, and the way you’re so willing to put time into your dumb gifts and snacks and treats for a team of boys you barely know. But Tsukishima does not dislike you. And he supposes that’s part of the problem.

series content: developing relationship, (sort of) ooc tsukishima, strangers to (sort of) friends to lovers, angst, fluff, slow burn

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

(the final part!! i don’t wanna ramble too much for right now so all of my final thoughts will be at the end! 

love yall :) )

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽ 

Just like that, Tsukishima is back to square one. 

The world goes silent for a few days. He hates to admit that he’s losing sleep over you, but at this point he’s too far gone to care what anyone thinks about him. Except for you--and while he knows that assuming things is bad, he can only conclude by the way you looked so scared of him before, that you do not think he’s a good person. 

(The gifts you gave him nearly contradict that assumption. But he ignores those for the most part. The scarf you gave him a while ago rests on a chair in his room and more often than not he finds himself staring at it during the deep hours of the night. He hasn’t worn it yet.)

Yamaguchi keeps giving him glances during class--not that that’s any different from before, but it irks him more now that he’s actually seen you. The blonde wonders if his friend knew about you, knew that you were going to drop something off in that moment and just never thought to warn him. Maybe you two were plotting that together, like an odd sort of revenge tactic. 

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know a lot of things. What he does know is that he’s tired, and he misses you, and he wants to be warm again. 

The morning is cold when we wakes up. He wasn’t really sleeping--it was one of those nights of a daze of exhaustion where he kept blinking himself awake. At five-thirty AM, he sighs, staring at the blank, matte wall of his ceiling. Tsukishima wills himself to crawl out of his bed and get ready for school. It’s still dark outside, the flames of daylight creeping up on the horizon while he steps around his room. 

He’s ready to leave by six. His mother is awake, sitting in the kitchen sipping hot tea and scrolling through her cellphone. She catches a glimpse of her son walking through the front door--Tsukishima feels her pensive gaze on him but refuses to say anything, just like always. 

The air is cold. Despite the long-sleeved uniform he’s wearing, Tsukishima feels ill-prepared to face the day, in more than one way. Nevertheless, he lets go of his reluctance at the door and trudges onward in the frigid air, nose flushed with red and cheeks going numb in a matter of seconds. 

(The scarf is in his bag now rather than his desk chair, hidden beneath his books and folders and pencils. He wants to wear it, knows he should, but his guilty conscious tells him to leave it unworn for now.) 

The walk passes by quickly, far too quickly for his comfort. Before Tsukishima knows it, he’s faced with the front doors of the very school he dreads to enter. 

His fingers tingle with numbness as he pulls at the metal handles of the door. The school is quiet, empty for the most part. The faint shuffle of teachers in their classrooms echoes throughout the halls as his feet lead him to Class 1-4. 

There’s a faint pitter-patter of footsteps from inside the classroom. Tsukishima passes it off as one of his teachers, again, but the sight he’s met with when he walks through the doorway gives him a disturbing sense of deja vu. 

You’re there, at his desk--the same bracelet from a few days ago resting on top of a box that  you seem to have just placed on his desk. You blink up at him owlishly. He can only return the gesture, dumbstruck as he is. 

It’s too reminiscent of the events from a few days ago. Once again, his eyes are prickling with stinging pain and his throat dries up. 

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to do.

What does he know, he wonders. He knows he hates crying. It’s unfortunate that that’s the only thing he seems capable of doing. 

It’s all overwhelming for him. The cold of the outside lingering on his skin, the sheets of sunlight pouring through the window as the sun rises, your eyes, your sheer presence in front of him. It piles on his shoulder and soon he feels liquid heat pouring down his cheeks. 

Tsukishima Kei is crying. In front of you, in a classroom, watching you grip the box in your hands and stare at him, unmoving. 

His throat hurts. He tries to choke down any audible sobs, but loud, ugly sniffles echo throughout the room. He wants to fall through the floor, squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to look at you. He can’t bear to know that you find him pathetic, even more so than he already seemed in the last few weeks. 

Distantly, he recognizes the sound of footsteps coming closer to him but tunes them out in hopes that he’s just imagining them. A hand finds its way to his shoulder--it’s warm, and he flinches. He knows it’s yours, knows by the heat of it and the comfort he feels from a simple touch. It’s the first time he’s felt your touch, but he feels so light now--so warm and comfortable and cloudy. 

“Kei.” It’s your voice. It swims through the air and into his ears, sobs only increasing in severity at the sound of his first name on your lips. Your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, both sets of fingers gently brushing away the pouring stream. 

Fond. Tsukishima Kei is very fond of the feeling of your skin on his. He hopes he can become well-acquainted with it, if he tries hard enough. 

“Kei, it’s okay.” You’re so soft, voice low and lacking any hostility he expected you to have. Your thumbs pat at his under eyes, soaking up the wetness that pools. 

“Can you look at me?” He’s stubborn, hand coming up to grip your wrist and lips clamped tightly shut to reduce the shiver of his entire body as he weeps. A gentle shake of his head makes you sigh--he knows the way he’s acting is so uncharacteristic but he can’t help it. Not with the feel of your hands on his face, your voice, the sound of his first name spoken by you still ringing in his ears. 

“It’s okay. It’s alright. I’m here.” 

You are here. It seems impossible to him, but you’re here. With him. With your hands giving him warmth and comfort and fondness. Everything he ever wanted. 

His eyes blink open. Tsukishima Kei looks at you--really looks. Your lips are upturned, gentle as is the rest of you. The sun is halfway above the horizon now, the light from it filtering through the leaves of the trees that are planted outside the window. The golden rays hit your eyes perfectly, changing the hue the slightest bit and making him stop his tears momentarily--just to admire you. 

You blink at him. You smile. Tsukishima Kei is in love, just a little bit.

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

(so... this has been a wild ride. 

first off i wanna say thank you for all the support i’ve received throughout this whole thing! it really means so much to me. i love you all so much. 

im very proud of myself for finishing this. this is by no means the greatest product i could’ve created--it was a little bit messy, and the word count of the entire series (ab 6000 i think) is lower than some long oneshots i’ve seen.

there’s a lot of things i could’ve done better--no doubt about that. but i am very proud of myself for making this. for finishing a WHOLE multipart series,,,,yes it was short but......its here! i did it! i’m finished! very happy with this. 

this series was mainly set in tsukishima’s own head--and i know it was probably at least a little disappointing that it was NOT action-based---and the fact that it was tsukki-centric was definitely a downer to some people because you didnt really get to feel what.... YOU would feel in that situation. we didnt get to see that here. 

and its okay if that’s what you disliked most!!! in truth i think that was one of my biggest weaknesses writing this series. but i liked it this way, i think. i like trying to analyze characters within my writing and i think that, at the very least, this was a good challenge for me to try to take on with characterization and the like.

anyways....that’s it i think! thank you so much for supporting me, really. i’m very thankful for everyone whose liked or reblogged any of the parts to komorebi. you are all incredible i love you. <3) 

(pssst!!! i’ll be talking about my 200 follower event soon. if you wanna participate, be on the lookout for that!!)

[colderthancoldest]

Ceasefire

(Read on Ao3 here)

Inspired by: this ask

Word Count: ~1.8k

Summary: Thirteen and Dhawan!Master both really need a hug.

(Fluff piece, hugs, no warnings apply)

Occasions on which the Doctor and the Master pause from their perpetual battles is rare. Over the years, it's gotten less and less common. Back when they were young, all of this- all the battles over Earth, all the threats, all the traps- were much more playful, and so was much easier to pause so that the two of them might grab a bite together and partake in each other's familiar company. However, over time, each slash at each other began to cut deeper and deeper in some failing attempt to 'win' a game that could never be won.

They both loved their fights, they both needed the challenge- but at times, it could become too much. Even for a Time Lord. Or... maybe not a Time Lord, now that they both knew there never really was such a thing.

Point was, their limits had finally been reached. The threshold for pain inflicted upon each other had finally been hit and they both needed time to recuperate before any scheme and/or heroics could resume.

The Master would say it was the Doctor who yielded first.

The Doctor would say it was the Master who suggested it.

Either way they looked at it, a few text messages back and forth from numbers that used to belong to friends later and the Doctor and the Master were staring each other down from opposite sides of the open field.

They had chosen a spot in the middle of nowhere to partake in their agreed upon ceasefire. A place that was hidden by the safety of tall trees and knee-high wildgrass that hid their mutual interest in a way that suggested being nice to each other was the greatest possible sin.

"We agree that this will never be spoken of again? As per our prior arrangement?" the Master questioned skeptically, with a low flat tone and his fists clamped shut.

"Completely. No one will ever know. We keep our mouths shut until long after our souls leave our bodies to rot," the Doctor agreed firmly.

The Master gave a nod to confirm this.

They stood there for a moment more, staring each other down. It was an old concept, but new in practice.

"Are... you okay?" the Doctor asked as the Master shifted from foot to foot, visibly uncomfortable.

The Master shook his head sharply and ignored the way the tips of his ears began to burn red.

"You don't get to ask me that. Not after everything you've done to me. Everything you've put me through," the Master growled through gritted teeth. "I doubt you've ever stopped running long enough to consider the extent of it."

The Master's words didn't linger for long before the Doctor cut through the stillness.

"Me?" the Doctor asked sharply. "What about you! You've killed people. A few years' penance on Earth is the very least you deserve."

"A few years?!" the Master chuckled in the manic, agonizing way he laughed.

He shook his head and caught himself before he could lose his patience.

"Don't push me," he threatened through gritted teeth.

The Doctor took a deep breath of her own.

"Right. That's not why we're here," she reiterated.

The Master gave a nod and took a breath of his own.

"Honestly... I don't want to talk about it either," the Doctor confessed.

She rubbed her arm and stared off at the ground.

The Master's eyes stayed locked on the dirt as well.

After a moment- a long and terrifying moment, the Doctor took a step forward.

The Master instinctively lifted his fists to defend himself at the sign of movement. After a brief second, he shamefully lowered them and attempted to play it off as if it was nothing.

The Doctor let out a sigh, reached out, and... hugged him.

Her arms reached around him, over the Master's own arms where they remained at his sides, and held him.

"I'm... glad you're still alive..." the Doctor admitted softly.

She could hear and feel the Master's breathing speed up and leave his lips unevenly as he froze in place.

It took him a minute to react at all.

The Doctor held him, pressed her face to his shoulder, and let her hands rest on his upper back as she simply soaked in the moment.

All at once, the Master comprehended the act and returned the embrace. He pulled her tight and firm and practically melted against her. His face hid in her shoulder, against the fabric of her coat, and his arms wrapped around her as if he was terrified she would disappear at any moment.

The Doctor could feel from the tense muscles and mild shake of his shoulders that he was fighting tears. She didn't comment on it and instead let her own tears splash down as she let out a small breath of relief.

The Master eventually spoke again. A weak, cautious whisper that the Doctor could only hear because his face was so close to her right ear.

"I haven't been hugged before," he confessed quietly. The words didn't even sound like they were directed at the Doctor. It felt more as if they'd slipped out in a moment of weakness and abrupt realization.

"Not this me, anyways," he continued softly. "And certainly never like this."

He paused, struggling to collect himself long enough to speak.

"I know the feeling," he elaborated, "from lives past."

He shook his head and buried it closer to the Doctor's collar, as if he could hide there. Away from his own words and the emotions that overwhelmed him.

"I... know what it should feel like. I've always know."

He paused. He hesitated.

He trembled as he pressed closer to the Doctor. As if, if he could get close enough, he would be safe, tucked away in her arms.

The Doctor's vision blurred as she willingly pulled him closer and brushed one palm across his upper back to sooth him. She could feel shivers and tremors wrack through his exhausted body as he bit back his emotions.

"This... is far better," he breathed.

The Doctor let out a small chuckle of relief as she carefully soothed the tense muscles of the Master's shoulder within her reach. There was scarring there, scar tissue grown over wounds the Master had never let her know he had. Wounds... that were a direct result of the Doctor's abandonment.

Even so, the Master pressed closer with everything he could. He held her as tight as he could- or at least, as much as he could without hurting her. He clung to her, pretending he would never have to let go- or rather, that she would never leave him- again.

The Doctor kept him safe in her arms and did what little she could to calm him.

They were both a mess of tears by now, but neither was willing to admit it.

The Doctor closed her eyes as she settled her face towards the Master's jaw.

"I... know what you mean..." she agreed softly.

She sighed. "Every new life we're... the same, but also somebody else entirely. I know what the people I knew were like, but I don't know them personally anymore.

Someone... else knew them. Someone else did all those things. And this new me... I've just taken their place."

The Master remained quiet.

"But not you," the Doctor smiled.

The Master shifted closer.

"You never minded-" the Doctor continued, "-that every new me was different, that I had to learn you over again and again. You were patient with me... when you were O."

The Master tensed, but refused to look at her.

"Why did you wait so long?" the Doctor asked softly.

What she was really asking was why he was the Doctor's friend for so long when he could have revealed himself at any time. Why did he wait for her.

The Master shook his head against her.

His voice was weak and soft yet steady when he finally replied.

"You're mine," he grumbled firmly, with the confidence of someone who knew his words were indisputable fact.

The Doctor only chuckled through her silent tears.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The Master paused briefly to think over this response. He knew the answer well- but not how to explain it.

"This you is the match for this me. I had to wait," he said, faintly annoyed. "For our timelines to line up again... for this you."

The Doctor chuckled again, more warmly this time.

"And?" she asked, "Was I worth it?"

A low rumble of a laugh purred from the Master's throat.

"Are you kidding? This you is the most cruel, ignorant, insufferable bastard I could ever have the misfortune of knowing. And, insult to injury, you give decent hugs."

The Doctor could practically feel him smirk.

"Of course you were worth the wait."

The Doctor laughed, warm and wholeheartedly, and even the Master let a chuckle of his own slip through.

"And I suppose," the Doctor rolled her eyes playfully, "you're reasonably tolerable yourself."

"Careful, Doctor. That nearly makes it sound like you don't hate me," the Master prodded amusingly.

The Doctor bushed her fingers over the back of the Master's head. She gently fixed his hair into place and then sighed with a heavy heart.

"Of course I don't hate you, you idiot."

The Master fell silent but let out a small hum as he settled down. The fear and uneasiness from when he had arrived had long since faded, and the Doctor's own worries disappeared along with them.

They both wanted to apologize- for so many, many things- but neither did.

When their legs grew tired, they allowed themselves to settle onto the soft ground, hidden among the grass and beneath the towering trees.

Without anyone to witness, far from even their Tardises' prying eyes. Without hope, that any of this whatever-it-was between them could ever be fixed. And without any reward, without the equal shares in the universe they had promised each other in lives long past.

They layed there until they fell asleep beneath the beautiful stars as they did their best to forget all the now-broken promises they had once made beneath them.

"I don't hate you either," the Master eventually divulged once they were both more than half-asleep in each others' arms.

"Never completely. Although it would certainly be easier if I did."

The Doctor hummed a warm acknowledgement, but knew better than to reply. If they pretended not to hear what the other said, then they would never have to address the difficult matter.

By the next time they met, they would be at each other's throats again. There was no doubt about it.

By this time tomorrow, they would be wishing this had never happened and doing their very best to forget the warmth it brought to their lonely hearts.

However, for now, they both needed a hug from the person they cared about most. And it was through no fault of their own that the person dearest to their hearts, and their most hated enemy, just so happened to be one in the same....

[sugar-petals]

Can u introduce yuzuru to us the caro way?👀

so you want to know about the one and only. ♡😌

yuzuru hanyū (25) of sendai, japan: the most beautiful ice prince with a heart of gold.

….an artist clearly not of this world, he’s been sent to us from another realm. 19 world records, two olympics won, dubbed the greatest figure skater of all time. and the most precious bean on top of that.

but let’s start from the beginning, shall we ♥︎

so, want to spot yuzu on the ice? use this checklist. slender silhouette, an even slimmer waist, feather-like outfits (he sketches those himself; the fandom lovingly calls him swanyu), soft blushy face. he has great androgyny.

outside of performances, you see him either with a deer’s gaze or the brightest, biggest eye smile. also, he’s usually found sitting with his wife: 

which is the ice 😄 these two are together forever. you can discern yuzu from a mile away by how he treats his working ground. 

there is a purity to him. you’d not guess that this is one of the most ardent athletes if you didn’t see what’s around his neck after competitions. the guy’s cuteness is as compelling as his skating technique.

look for it: yuzu’s face is super suave and rosy up close, even after his most energetic performances. some men are handsome, others pretty, he is both. 

even acoustically, he’s hard to miss. applause is all around, and he’s highly expressive. if you see a crying young man getting the high score, that’s yuzuru hanyu. you’ve not seen more beautiful happy tears.

and score reactions, anyway:

so, aye loves, the rumors are true. a cutie-pie off the ice, animated, a real unabashed meme — yuzu is easy-going, talkative. cheery, cheeky, one of a kind. his facial expressions are a league of their own.

if you thought this is the sort of guy who watches cat videos, you are correct 😄

yuz-uwu hanyu, everybody:

his undoubtedly feline behaviour is often unexpected, it stands out with its adorableness, too. a sweetheart par excellence. 

and, how else could it be: vice versa, the big beast on the rink. he’s cutesy, dorky, very well-spoken in daily life, but when it comes to skating, his seriousness escalates. you blink once and suddenly hanyu is a bedazzling, strutting lion :’D his performances stun with confident elegance.

he becomes full of ardor, drama, and focus. you’d never suspect so much fire burns in him. a showman and ambition icon, hands down. 

his skating is dynamic, perfected, and emotional. if you want to see art and the extra mile, tune in when hanyu competes.

the downside is; more light, more shadow. it leaves him crawling on the ice afterwards. yuzu performs so hard, it’s worrying.

he delivers it all. you won’t believe it:

this guy is an asthmatic.

the symptoms aren’t as bad as they used to be, but there are still regular attacks. he said that he’ll never take it as an excuse and often recalls how he started skating because of it. he’s a badass, extremely inspiring. yuzuru defies all limits, including gravity. his jumps have legendary status. 

off the rink, you guessed it: he turns into a wholly different person. 

it all dissolves completely when he’s dorking around again. 

don’t let it deceive you, he’s the no other option than first place type. he could not be any more decorated with titles, he achieved the grand slam in all competitions as of 2020. and still, king of sportsmanship hanyu is respectful and smiley towards all colleagues and never lets anyone feel left out. especially when it comes to his juniors (e.g. yuma kagiyama, 16, below) which says a lot about him.

he bows in every direction before an audience, too. lower than a 90° angle, even. this is more polite than any existing formality in japan.

talk about audience: i introduced fellow japanese skater shoma uno last week, who’s more uncomfortable with social contact and aggression. yuzu, extrovert he is: the exact opposite. he withers away with no people and competition. he’s befriended rivals, had crises over not having someone who could challenge him. when a competitor retires, he’s the one crying in their arms (e.g. with team mate and bff javier fernandez from spain below).

beside his competitive spirit and princely wow factor, hanyu is popular for his winnie pooh tissue box that he caresses, squeezes, and carries everywhere. he loves good luck charms & rituals, pooh is the most important one.

fans throw pooh plushies on the ice after his performances because of it. since it’s gotten so intense, yuzu recently started cleaning them up himself on top of the flower girls for the upcoming skater who could get delayed otherwise. (more about what happens with the piles of plushies later.)

so, the burning question is. 

what made yuzuru hanyu emerge so outstanding an entertainer? how does someone causing so much uproar become like that? it’s not just what kind of appearance he was given, although he really looks his part to a T. you don’t have to be an insider to see it right away.

like literally to a fault. and you can tell the way his blades sound on the ice is different. it’s soft even if he does the most hardcore quadruple jumps. i think it’s because his drive to do this is a higher one, hanyu has an altered relationship with the ice. where his devotion comes from has a more severe reason so, massive trigger warning. 

this is no exaggeration: yuzuru is considered a hero to the japanese. a survivor of the earthquake 2011, he narrowly escaped the collapsing rink in his hometown on that very day. he’s often talked about how the ice shattered underneath his feet and it was the moment that defined his life forever. he could have been dead by the age of 16. his motivation has been set ever since. this man is compelled by something bigger, that’s why you hear it and you feel it. he wants to skate not just for himself but others and seize every day. 

much of his copious charity work — that’s where all the pooh plushies go — went to mend the consequences of the tsunami ever since, he’s looked upon as a great hope in japan. the minister gave him the people’s honor award in 2018. 

now you know why yuzuru has such a fanbase and treats the ice as sacred, you see it in every gesture. his manners are without a single flaw, he helps staff repair the ice after performances. 

you might think it’s odd, but he honors the ground. he’s invested in the integrity of it. that’s why he’s the best skater. it’s gratitude and the will to live fully.

he hates to fall on the ice, he hates to damage it. alongside his feathery weight, that’s why the sound he makes while gliding along is so tender. 

i think that’s also why hanyu’s signature element is the ina bauer. it doesn’t rely on brutal force, instead this element slides across the rink like a swan. yeah, oh my god.

it’s his most well-known dramatic move. the way he surrenders into it. 

hanyu’s back arch and perfect split allow him to do elements no other male skaters can. his biellmann spin, for instance. i know, it’s ridiculous.

and those are just two elements of dozens and dozens. hanyu is a kinetic wizard. i highly rec this record-breaking delivery of his olympic program. in front of his home crowd! he’s just… mind-boggling. i live for his smiles here.

exceptional skater, exceptional mentor: it’s time we look at another puzzle piece that made yuzu the way he is. the masterful brian orser is hanyu’s beloved coach. missing gold by just one mistake at the olympics 1988, brian is now committed to give others what he couldn’t have— successfully so.

orser took the ice prince to gold twice, this hasn’t happened in 66 years. brian is the nicest and most supportive pooh carrier and yuzu’s utmost rock. hanyu’s talent rests safely in these hands.

he gets strict about punctuality lmao! but other than that, his guidance is gentle. canadian he is, brian’s courteousness mixes well with yuzu’s politeness. their bond is strong. as. hell. 

brian picked up yuzu from rock bottom several times. most fateful being hanyu’s accident with a fellow skater during competition warm-ups nov 2014. they collided at a high speed, it was unspeakably nasty. yuzu got knocked out for half a minute and had grave breathing problems but still decided to skate on with what later turned out as an almost-concussion. brian was the most worried ice dad in the world that day.

yuzu cried and crouched and bled like mad and my heart has been broken ever since. i hope he never suffers like that again. promise me you don’t search up the video, it’s a harrowing watch like a stab to the chest. sadly enough, hanyu’s body has still been a notorious wreck, esp. ankle issues regularly give him a hard time 😔

it hurts like a bitch with every jump landing but he takes meds and still manages to win, god knows how. sometimes even with crutches on the podium. at his worst, he’s still the best, it’s a tragedy.

he’s been recovering, or always is, but he pushes himself through injuries. his ambition and perfectionism are boundless. the cause is more important to him than his well-being. this is not an easy guy to stan once you see how he sacrifices and self-destructs. so, it’s good someone protects him. 

mostly from himself because nobody has profoundly surpassed hanyu. he has let himself no choice than to contest himself. not even health, only age can stop yuzu. i think that brian understands this ‘curse of a genius’ effect. his mere presence can make hanyu say these rare words:

his two other coaches contribute to that. tracy wilson (left) has proven to understand his playful side the best while ghislain briand (right) helps yuzuru deal with his fears. so you got 3 people taking care of the golden boy. brian once said: “he is very sheltered” and you can see it’s true.

yuzu eased into learning english and communicates well with his coaches. like with everything, he studies hard and often forces himself to speak during interviews to practice. his skills are astounding. his speaking voice is also very soothing, very amicably low and high alike. yuzu is highly intelligent. he always says something eloquent and interesting.

now, privately, hanyu is very much like you’d expect someone so devoted to skating would be like. he doesn’t go out, has no social media, can’t eat nor sleep very well. no cameras allowed during practice. it figures he is attached to winnie pooh, think about it. in the cartoon, pooh is someone who sleeps, eats, and engages with friends plenty. 

these are the things hanyu can’t do, doesn’t have time/energy/incentive for. he is barred from balance in life but can at least admire this little carefree plushie for it. especially because pooh represents eating lots while yuzuru doesn’t have a good relationship with food (he says it doesn’t go well with jumps etc.), hanyu lives vicariously through him. 

what’s more, you have to see how he throws himself onto others and never wants to let go, yuzuru is extremely cuddly. 

to the degree that mere social customs can’t meet how much he really needs. so, what else can he resort to, he loves mascots and plushies. it’s how the tale goes in japan generally, tough work ethic, high responsibility, high pressure, so people turn to cute fluffy things.

he always fondles pooh’s head, even pretends he’s come to life so he has someone to snuggle with. i think that his isolated lifestyle doesn’t help. so, he gets his affection at least there, you can see how happy it makes him. and again: he does this all for charity.

that’s why fellow skaters are so important to hanyu. it really brings out his social spirit and comforts him best, it’s so wholesome. i’ve not seen someone react so relieved to being embraced, like he’s not been touched for months. skating this, skating that. at the end of the day, hanyu wants love.

as he once said, what motivates him is to express himself in the first place. hanyu is a romantic. it’s written all over him. it reflects in his music choices, his elegant motion, how he designs his outfits:

… and how thoughtfully he talks about marriage. he has big plans for starting a family and coaching after he retires. i won’t be the only one squeezing lucky charm pooh in my imagination so it turns out well for him. please make this heart of gold heal and see all his wishes come true ♡🐻