#he never once pushed him to be better or stronger

[wisecura]

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.8  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.11

p.10

Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside your moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.

AN: can I make it up to you with a slightly longer chapter? please? sorry if this is a bit wordy, but enjoy. the next few chapters will have more momentum and movement. I'm still debating how messed up I want this story to be-- i tend to lean into the dark fic lines. i have a rough outline but....

warnings: this story may cover sensitive and uncomfortable topics. please read at your own risk, violence, lashings, blood, mental breakdowns, yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), hints at inappropriate thoughts, toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

thoughts and time changes

Lately, you’ve found yourself growing unexpectedly closer to Toji. 

There’s a subtle… warmth in him now that wasn’t there before, though he still remains quiet, never prying—and it all started after you returned from your clan house battered and bruised. When he was surprisingly gentle as he wordlessly patched you up. Yet, despite this newfound…what? fondness?—his frequent absences still plagued the house, never lingering longer than necessary, and more often than not, It was still just you and Megumi.

Megumi returned home for the summers—with that first one standing out as particularly difficult to navigate. 

The two of you fell back into that familiar closeness, as if the strained conversation from before had never happened. As if he hadn't ever avoided you in the first place. He never spoke about it, opting to steer clear from any conversation that seemed too personal. Yet, this left you with a lingering uncertainty that seemed to hang over every interaction—never knowing if he might suddenly pull away or how his mood might change—keeping you constantly on edge around him.

And how could you bring it up? No, you’d much rather keep things peaceful—safe, between the two of you. 

Despite all of your “concerns”, he slipped back into his touchy, almost affectionate habits—perhaps even more so than before, seemingly fine for the most part. The anger and blatant irritation that once defined him, present in his every interaction with Toji, had given way to a stoic calmness—a neutrality that left you feeling a bit happier. He changed so much, yet felt so familiar in so many ways.

And it was that same composure that made him so hard to read, leaving you endlessly guessing at what he didn't say. You definitely can't say you knew him as well as you did before.

Megumi’s thoughts drifted back to his first year at Jujutsu High.

A plethora of new faces and challenges—meeting his classmates had been, to put it mildly, eventful. There was Gojo Satoru, for one. His arrogant and self-absorbed teacher, who seemed far too amused by his own power and status as the strongest sorcerer. Easily the most skilled, he pushed Megumi all year to become a better version of himself, taking an interest in his background with the Zenin Clan. Annoying as it was, Megumi had to admit—thanks to the blue eyed freak, he understood his potential far better than he ever had before. 

Then there was Yuji Itadori. The reckless idiot who, in a moment of pure desperation and absolute insanity, swallowed one of Ryomen Sukuna’s fingers. Even now, Megumi couldn’t shake the guilt. If only he’d been faster, stronger—he might’ve stopped it. Might’ve saved Yuji from a path that tore his life apart.

Yet, despite it all, he became what Megumi would consider a friend. Easily the biggest doof he'd ever met—somehow managing to be both absurdly reckless and irritatingly good-hearted, resembling you in a weird way. Despite knowing him for such a short time, they’d already faced more together than most do in a lifetime.

And meeting Nobara Kugasaki. A girl he initially thought of as only loud and annoying, proved to be more than capable in more ways than one. Somehow, she managed to grow on him, though not without constantly provoking his every last nerve. Even worse than Toji did—a feat he hadn't thought possible.

He’d been careful not to tell you too much, as hard as it was when he saw your face waiting for him the moment he walked through that front door—a sight for sore eyes if there ever was one. His first year had been chaotic, after all, but he hadn’t lied to you… just carefully sidestepped the truths. You poked and prodded for answers, but he remained evasive, selectively sharing only what he thought was safe for someone as precious as you.

Those text messages you sent? He couldn’t bring himself to respond much—not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t stand the thought of making you worry. Your messages were always so short, almost hesitant—yet somehow, impossibly cute. Strangely endearing in a way that made him smile without meaning to. And they had him staring at his phone far longer than he’d ever admit. Long enough for Yuji to notice, of course, grinning as he tried to snatch the phone from Megumi’s hands, teasing him mercilessly about some "mysterious girlfriend."

There was no way in hell he’d let Sukuna’s vessel or his creepy teacher know about you—let alone meet you. Gojo probably had some inkling about your presence in his life—after all, who in Jujutsu society wasn’t at least vaguely aware of an arranged marriage? Especially one involving someone he had only recently discovered was as much of a social pariah as his father. But even if Gojo knew, Megumi was certain it was only through word of mouth alone, and he intended to keep it that way. You were a part of his life that he refused to let this chaos touch.

But they were good people—people who made him question everything he thought he knew about himself. What kind of person did he want to become? What kind of lives did he want to protect? The answer always circled back to you. You were his constant, the standard by which he measured everything. Someone who deserved better, someone who had endured far more than anyone should, and someone he would never stop trying to be worthy of.

He hated the unfairness of it all. Despised it—the sheer injustice of everything you had endured. The crushing expectations your clan had forced upon you, the suffocating marriage to his father, the unrelenting sense of entrapment that shadowed your every step. None of it was right. And the more he learned from Gojo, the angrier he became. A power system designed to crush those deemed weak or inferior, wielded to maintain a twisted hierarchy.

The true difference between you and Megumi was your golden heart—your unwavering care and strength, even in the face of how he knew you were likely treated within your clan. And yet, it was him who was being praised, lauded for qualities he wasn’t sure he deserved credit for.

That first year had taught him plenty. He’d solidified his choices, made his intentions clear, fully understanding what he was stepping into. And Megumi wasn’t just reflecting on these wrongs—he was determined to set them right, no matter the cost.

To him, you didn’t belong to anyone else—least of all his father. You were his. The very thought of you leaving, of slipping beyond his reach, sent a sharp, desperate ache through his chest. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t. He’d free you—not just from the chains of your family or his father, but so you could truly be free. Free to choose him. To stay by his side. Always. Forever. Exactly where you belonged.

All he needed was for you to wait for him. Just a little longer.

After that long, grueling first year at school, Megumi finally got to see your beautiful face again. The way your smile lit up the room, the teasing lilt in your voice as you poked fun at him—it was enough to completely unravel him inside. It quietly reassured him that you still cared, easing the self-consciousness that had lingered since the day he left. Somehow, despite everything, it still felt the same. Like nothing had changed. Like home.

He had to restrain himself when he came back—the overwhelming urge to pull you close, to kiss you like he’d always dreamt of, nearly getting the better of him. But no—he wouldn’t risk it. He couldn’t scare you away, not when having you near again felt like the only thing keeping him steady.

And he didn’t want you worrying about him, either. The probing questions you had? He’d place those on the backburner for now. Maybe even forever. That wasn’t what he needed from you. The thought of seeing your broken expression, your worry etched into every line of your face, was enough to haunt him. You were his light, his solace—and he’d do whatever it took to keep it that way.

Since coming back, Megumi had been careful—deliberate—in carving out his place in your life. Every move he made, every word he spoke, was measured and planned, more so than ever before. Subtly, almost imperceptibly, he had begun reshaping the way you saw him. He dropped small, seemingly innocent comments here and there, gently steering your attention toward him and away from anyone else—especially his father. Subtlety was key, he figured.

Every look, every gesture, was a calculated effort to blur the boundaries between you, to shift the nature of your relationship without you even realizing it. He wasn’t content with simply being part of your life—he was determined to make himself the center of it.

He worked tirelessly. 

He regretted pulling away before, but if school had taught him anything, it was to cherish these fleeting moments with you. And each day, it seemed his efforts were paying off. You turned to him more often now, seeking his presence, his reassurance. Every question you asked, every flash of that radiant smile, felt like a step closer to what he wanted—to what he needed.

But it still wasn’t enough. He could tell you didn’t see him the way he saw you, didn’t feel the same pull that consumed him. The way he craved you. It ate away at him, the frustration building with every stolen glance, every moment he found himself aching for more. More than your smile, more than your laughter—he wanted all of you, and the thought of waiting drove him mad. He wanted your everything.

At least your eyes were still on him. At least you still cared. For now, that would have to be enough. 

But he wasn’t going to stop. He couldn’t. You’d realize it eventually—you had to. And when you did, he’d be there, ready to claim the place in your heart that was always meant for him.

Before you knew it, Megumi was heading back to school, leaving the house quieter than usual. You’d been bracing yourself for another inevitable summons from your clan, surprised by their unusual silence. It was an uncharacteristic delay, one that left you both relieved and unsettled.

When the message finally arrived, it was as if the air grew heavier around you. Steeling yourself, you went, prepared for the worst, knowing all too well the weight that came with their demands. The possibility for retaliation. No. the absolute for retaliation. 

As expected, you were met with the same barrage of insults, the words slicing through you with their usual sharpness. But this time, there were no lashings, no physical punishment to endure. The absence of that particular cruelty felt like a small, bittersweet victory. You carried the weight of their scorn on your way home but couldn’t help feeling a tinge of relief that it hadn’t been worse.

Toji was home that day—a surprise that caught you off guard, especially since you’d texted him earlier about your meeting with the clan. He’d mentioned being tied up on another one of his long-winded trips, at least for the next few days. Yet here he was.

He greeted you with his usual detached demeanor, but his eyes betrayed him, scanning you with unnerving precision—a deliberate, assessing once-over that made your stomach twist. Before you could fully process it, he stepped closer, his presence effortlessly commanding the space between you. Instinctively, you recoiled in surprise, but it didn’t deter him.

Without a word, his hand moved with an almost lazy confidence, slipping under the back of your shirt. The warmth of his palm against your skin sent a jolt through you, heat rushing to your cheeks as the intimacy of the gesture froze you in place. You couldn’t move, caught entirely off guard by his boldness, the casual intensity of his touch leaving you breathless and unsure of what to say.

“Relax,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt coloring his voice. His fingers trailed lightly across your skin, as though searching for something. It didn’t take long for him to pause, clearly not finding what he was looking for. With a quiet chuckle, he pulled his hand back, a smirk curving his lips as his eyes locked onto yours.

“Clean this time, huh? Guess they decided to play nice.”

You couldn’t tell if his words were meant to mock or comfort, but the way his eyes lingered on you left your pulse racing, your breath catching in your throat. He stepped back, the teasing edge in his demeanor—his gaze, softening ever so slightly before he turned away, leaving you rooted to the spot.

The warmth of his palm still clung to your skin, your mind spinning, cheeks burning a vivid red. He’d never been this handsy before, but you knew exactly what he was searching for. What you couldn’t quite grasp was why it seemed to matter to him. Then again, when had Toji ever made sense to you? 

You and Megumi had been exchanging texts more frequently than ever. It wasn’t something you had expected, but it started after he seemed to notice how upset his silence left you. The habit picked up when he returned to school for his second year. Whether it was guilt or something else driving his newfound consistency, you couldn’t deny the quiet relief that warmed your chest each time your phone pinged with his name.

Megumi’s birthday came and went, and for the first time, you felt comfortable enough to text him without hesitation, inviting him home for a small celebration. "Bring your new friends!" you added hopefully, sprinkling in an emoji or two to lighten the tone.

His reply came swiftly, cutting through your excitement—though, deep down, you should’ve expected it.

"I can’t. I have a mission coming up. I won’t be able to make it."

The disappointment settled heavily in your chest, but you tried not to push. The memory of his last birthday lingered in your mind, making you wonder if he avoided these moments on purpose. Megumi was never the social type, but you couldn’t help wanting to meet his friends, to see the people he spent so much of his time with. And, if you were honest, you missed him. The house always felt quieter, emptier, without him around.

Later that evening, however, your phone buzzed with an unexpected surprise. A picture.

It was Megumi, his expression as stoic and neutral as ever. Standing beside him was a pink-haired boy who couldn’t have been more of a contrast—wide-eyed, grinning ear to ear, brimming with an energy that practically leapt off the screen. The backdrop was lively, vibrant, a fleeting glimpse into the life Megumi was living far away from you. 

You lingered on the photo, your fingers brushing lightly over the screen. For all your probing and insistence on wanting to meet his friends, wanting to see him again, you were surprised he’d sent anything at all. Megumi had always been evasive, but this felt like a compromise—his way of meeting you halfway.

He looked… different. He had been looking different for a while now—since arriving at that school. Once again, as always when you saw him, you couldn’t help but notice how much he’d grown. He wasn’t just older; he was changing. Growing up. Making friends. Breaking free from his shell. Enjoying his life in a way you hadn’t seen before.

For a fleeting moment, pride swelled in your chest—warm and undeniable—only to be chased by a bittersweet ache. He was different, and though you were happy for him, the realization of how little he shared with you felt suffocatingly lonely.

And you couldn't help but feel a little…jealous. 

The next summer passes much the same, uneventful but filled with moments of quiet reflection. Your clan has kept their distance physically, but their questions have grown intense, more persistent. They never hit you again, though the threat was always there. Prodding for details you refuse to give, their subtle questions suggesting they have something more planned—something you can’t quite decipher yet.

When Megumi returns, it’s impossible to ignore how much he’s changed toward you. At seventeen now, he towers over you—maybe even reaching Toji’s height. His lean frame is noticeably stronger, and his presence feels heavier, more grounded. He still leans on you in his quiet, familiar way—that same energy that had always lingered between you stubbornly remained. But now, it felt… different. A little harder to ignore. A little harder to navigate.

It catches you off guard sometimes, especially when his eyes seem to linger on you just a bit too long. You’d always shrugged it off—those previous years, Toji’s words, even Megumi’s actions. A crush. That’s all it was. A fleeting, innocent crush. One you never addressed, one you assumed he’d outgrow. He’d figure out soon enough where you stood in his life.

But there was something unspoken in his gaze now, something that left your heart uneasy and your thoughts spiraling. You couldn’t help but think back to his bedroom, the night before he first left for school—the way the air had felt heavy, the unspoken tension hanging there ever since. His promise to protect you. That anger of you dismissing him. 

That third summer at home felt different—unsettlingly so. The reminder of how much he’d grown. The uncomfortable realization of how much you’d come to lean on him in return. But most of all, the subtle shift in how he acted around you, how he spoke to you, how his presence seemed to take up more space.

Your relationship with him had already felt off before. What could you even do about it now? Especially when he wasn't going to talk about it first?

Yes, that summer was a strange one.

Megumi was determined to win you over.

He was close—so close. With just one more year left until graduation, his plans were nearly complete. All that remained was you.

But despite the way you turned to him more often, leaned on him in ways that only fueled the fire of his obsession, your affection stubbornly stayed confined within the boundaries of platonic care. And for Megumi, that wasn’t enough—not even close.

But despite the way you turned to him more often, leaned on him in ways that only fueled the fire of his obsession, your affection stubbornly stayed confined within the boundaries of platonic care. And for Megumi, that wasn’t enough—not even close.

So he made sure you noticed. Made sure you saw just how much he’d grown.

He began wearing less clothing around the house, casually shirtless as he passed you in the hall, his lean, sculpted frame brushing just close enough for you to feel him. Bare skin ghosting against yours in fleeting touches that lingered in your mind. His voice dipped lower in the mornings, rich and deep as he greeted you, leaning in just a little too close as he reached for one thing or another. The subtle pink that crept into your cheeks didn’t escape him—and he enjoyed every second of it.

His touches grew more deliberate, yet always subtle enough to avoid suspicion. Fingers grazing your waist as he passed, lingering just a beat too long on your arm, or a hand ghosting over the nape of your neck in what seemed like an accident. But none of it was accidental.

It was all calculated—every movement, every look, designed to pull your attention, to fluster you, to shift how you saw him. Like a predator circling its prey, he was patient, methodical, and utterly focused. 

And you… you were quite the prize. Every day, he admired you, every glance fueling the fire that burned inside him. The more he pushed, the more flustered you seemed to get, each reaction feeding his obsession. But no matter how carefully he set his traps, how hard he tried to shift the dynamic, you remained painfully oblivious.

If you noticed the changes in him, you didn’t let on—offering only the small, well-meaning comments of someone watching a child grow. But Megumi couldn’t ignore the cracks in your composure, the way your voice faltered or how your cheeks burned when he walked around shirtless. Because really—what mother blushes that much when her stepkid walks by?

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

But Megumi wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot.

As the summer wore on, his patience began to wane. Subtlety had carried him far, but now it felt too slow, too restrained. His tactics shifted, his determination sharpening. He wanted something more, something that would bring him closer to you—something impossible to ignore.

p.9

p.11

come home

[blackcoldcrackedheart]

So yeah, I wrote a different version in where Tommy adopts Daniel.

(Last post for some time btw)

Tommy isn't religious, but he's praying to whomever can hear him that the boy,who looks barely two or three years old, is okay.

He wants to desperately curse out the parents for being stupid enough to go hiking when the Santa Ana winds were getting stronger.

Tommy picks up the kid gingerly, waiting for his team to pull the parents first since they weren't responding. The kid had a horrible open wound that Tommy was betting was a fracture but the kid's eyes were open and he seemed alert- scared really.

Something about the kid's eyes felt eerily familiar- a sense of deja vu washed over Tommy. The kid's eyes were starting blue and so animated, that Tommy was sure he could read the kid's thoughts just by looking into his eyes.

He gently pushed back the kid's blond curly hair back, pressing against the wound as the kid's eyes could only look around in fear. "Hey, I'm Tommy. What you're name, kiddo?"

"Danny." The kid slurred, his voice barely a whisper. "Mommy and daddy hurt?"

Tommy nodded, "Yes, your mommy and daddy got hurt but my friends are gonna help, okay? We're all firefighters and we're gonna take you to the hospital so you can feel better." He explained gently. He looked up to the helicopter that Lucy was piloting l. The winds were harsh and he had covered Danny's face from having to see his parents sway in the wind as they were being pulled into the helicopter.

"Firetruck?" Danny's eyes were filled with wonder and excitement, of course the kid would love firetrucks.

Tommy laughed, " When we get out of here, we can go see firetrucks with your mom and dad. Okay?"

Danny's eyes drooped close, Tommy patted the toddler's face gently, "Hey buddy, I know you're tired, but I need you to stay awake."

"I'm not tired, Tummy."

Tommy nearly snickered at that, the kid was such a cutie pie. "Hey, what if we sang a song? Want to sing me a song?"

He heard it before he heard his team yell.

The sound of the ground shifting.

"KINARD!"

Tommy shielded the kid and tried to duck into the smallest crevice known to man, he prayed to whomever could listen that the kid would be okay if he wasn’t.

“Kinard, you good?” He heard Milton yell out urgently.

“Never better.” He yelled back, trying to not chuckle at how the avalanche would have definitely hit him if he hadn’t moved in time. He looked down at Daniel, the kid was holding onto his jumpsuit tightly, eyes closed and clearly afraid. “Hey buddy, we’re okay.” Tommy assured him, running his hand through his curls.

“The kid okay?”

“Shaken, but he’s a trooper.”

-

The kid was a trooper, but definitely afraid still. He had refused to move away from Tommy, or as the others were loving the new nickname; Tummy. Ashara was kind about it, fixing what she could as the toddler would cry whenever someone tried to touch him.

“You think he was okay at home?” Ashara asked, looking over the kid with a worried expression, “I’ve never seen a kid so clingy like this before.”

Tommy sighed, “I have…little kids need someone to hold onto when they survive trauma. The kid just witnessed his parents getting buried by rocks and dirt, I’m surprised all he has are just gashes and bruises from what I can see.” He rubbed Daniel’s back soothingly, smiling in relief when he realized that Daniel was sound asleep in his arms.

“Kinard.” Lucy’s voice came through his headset, a gentle but pointed warning.

Tommy rolled his eyes, “Just fly this thing, Donato.”  

-

Tommy had been firefighter for decades at this point. He knew the number one rule.

Their job ended at the glass door.

But this time…

Daniel was still clinging to him once they landed and once they tried to put the toddler onto a gurney, he had screamed his head off till he was red, his arms reaching out to Tommy.

He turned to his team, who were all watching and waiting for Tommy to make his next move, and then turned to the med team.

“You’re serious?” Lucy asked, her eyes wide as Tommy went up to a male nurse.

“Would it be okay if I stay? Until you find his other family?” Tommy asked the man, his badge showing his name as Amir.

Amir frowned, looking back at Daniel and then at him- clearly this was first for the med team. “Okay, but just till we reached the next of kin. I don’t need to traumatize this kid twice over.”

Tommy nodded and rushed back to his team, “Tell the Cap that I’m sorry, I’ll try to head back once they call in his family.”

Lucy, Milton, and Ashara all glanced at each other, the same worried expression passing over their features. Lucy was the first to step up, “Keep us posted? I’ll pick you up if the Cap is cool with it.”

Tommy thanked and rushed off, promising his teammates that he would keep them posted if anything happened.

-

Three hours later Tommy was softly humming to a now calm Daniel.

The boy had been panicky whenever someone dared to even come close. Fortunately the doctors were able to confirm that Daniel was fine- he had to wear a cast on his arm and had to get a few stiches on his forehead and shoulder, but he was fine. In the appropriate weight and height class for his age, no signs of physical abuse that would make his doctor or social worker, Claudia, worried.

“I can’t imagine what he witnessed on that trail.” Claudia sighed, watching as Tommy fed the little boy a cup of mac and cheese.

“I don’t think we want to.” Tommy had seen the parents- those two had to be in critical care by now. He wasn’t sure if they would make it, but he hoped they did and hoped that their family would show support. Those two needed their family to help, especially with explaining to Daniel why he more than likely wouldn’t be seeing his parents for some time.

Claudia smiled, Daniel was adorably enjoying being fed while Tommy made ‘plane noises’ “I feel like he has you wrapped around his finger now.” She teased.

Tommy laughed, he couldn’t deny it really, “You try looking into those eyes and telling the kid no.” he joked, going back to feeding Daniel once the toddler started asking for “Plane?” again.

A part of him wasn’t surprised, he had a niece and nephew that he adored and spoiled. His sister Sarah and her husband Chet (short for Chetachukwu), lived in Napa and were not always too thrilled when Uncle TomTom came to visit because that meant things like…a built from scratch swing set or a treehouse (with furniture, “Because it has to have furniture Sarah!”).

He never pictured himself having kids…

No, he wasn’t going to go there, especially right now.

“He is adorable.” Claudia cooed, “I’m glad he has you right now, unfortunately we can’t always have someone sit for the kids who don’t have their parents or family when they come in.”

Tommy nodded, knowing this was the case with patients he had had brought in before, “Any luck with contacting the next of kin?”

Claudia shook her head ‘no’, “No luck, we’re still trying though.” She promised.

Tommy looked at his watch, it was nearing the end of his shift soon and so far he had only gotten a few messages from his team, particularly Lucy and Milton who had confirmed that the Captain was good with him staying with Daniel and a reminder for Tommy to message either of them when he was ready to head back. “Take your time.” He told her, “I’ve got nowhere to be for now.”

Tommy tried not to wince, knowing how depressed he sounded at that last part.

A few hours later Tommy and Daniel were emersed in a Bluey marathon on Tommy’s phone, sharing a cup of grapes and a bottle of apple juice.

‘In all honestly, not the worst way to spend a Friday night post-breakup.’ Tommy thought, the kid seemed to be distracted enough that he even was giggling and smiling at some parts of the show, which was a relief for Tommy.

The door opened, revealing Claudia and a older looking woman. “Mr. Kinard?” the older woman addressed him, “I’m Anita Hernandez, I’m the supervising social worker for the pediatric unit.” She explained,

Tommy could feel his stomach drop, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Anita sighed, looking at now nervous Claudia. “I wanted to introduce myself because one, I want to thank you so much for staying with Daniel throughout all this. My understanding is that you’re the one that saved him?”

Tommy shrugged, not liking the attention that he gets from his job, “It was a team effort.” He mumbled. “Well, either way it’s clear that Daniel is very attached to you. Which is why I thought it would be better to ask you, are you in any way interested in becoming the emergency foster parent for Daniel?”

Tommy froze, unsure at who to look at first as he tried to process the request. “What? I-What about his family? The parents didn’t have anyone?”

Claudia shook her head ‘no’, “Unfortunately the father had a fallout with his family a couple of years of ago and they don’t have any interest in taking care of Daniel and the mother’s side seems to be either too far or not physically able to care for Daniel- even temporarily.” She explained, “We know it’s a lot to ask, but considering how bonded Daniel seems to be with you, if you or anyone you know are willing to become an emergency placement then we can-”

“I’ll do it.”  

[monkie-brainriot]

Next season in english still has yet to air so have a scattered analysis on Mk’s relationship with touch and Monkey King’s VS the Six Eared Macaque’s teaching techniques and how they kinda interact with Mk while I cope 

(This is a very long post with a bunch of screenshots from the show so buckle up if you click the keep reading <3 bGKJAWMOEF) 

From the beginning we see Mk very touchy with his friends and they are touchy with him. Mei grabs him, picks him up, hugs him and leans into him with an easy familiarity that he hardly even seems to notice. Throughout the show we see the easy contact he has with his friends and the way he connects with them through touch. Touch almost doesn’t appear to be something Mk really registers to start out with. It’s just something that happens with friends and he accepts that readily and doesn’t even think about. It’s just another way of talking and connecting and it seems to be a rather big part of how he connects with people. 

Right off the bat, it’s established that Monkey King is a very touchy person as well. We start off the first meeting with his tail around Mk’s waist, picking him up, putting his hands on his shoulders to encourage him and he doesn’t seem to be all that bothered by Mk when he’s literally climbing him to poke his face. He even climbed on Mk’s shoulders and grooms his hair a bit during Bad Weather like its the most normal and naturally thing in the world. 

Their first bit of time really training together we start off with Monkey King dodging weaving and then quite literally throwing Mk into a mountain. 

Mk’s startled of course, screams the whole way down, but never once does he look hurt. 

Keep reading

[duskier]

Ghost, who is actually so hung he can't fuck you with his entire dick no matter how much he preps you beforehand- so he's got you on your back with your legs spread wide, him standing before you. Presses his hips forward, cock gliding against your clit with ease until his hips are flush with yours, his tip leaking pre on your belly.

"Look'a how deep I'd go, bunny. Too much for you, precious."

Of course, as always, once you're this cockdrunk and desperate you're confident you can take it all. You want to, want to be the first one to take all of him. The afterglow of him confessing you're the first person he's been with that could take as much as you already have still burns inside you.

Ghost tuts, clicking his tongue at how you roll your hips. Admires you whining beneath him, finding your own pace grinding against him.

"Could break you, so many ways. You'd let me, wouldn't you?"

Your eyelashes flutter shut as words fail you, his hips jerking and interrupting your rhythm. You can only nod instead of answer, grinning dumbly as you hear him chuckle darkly. When he gives a low, heady groan, you know it's time. You draw your hips as far up as you can, his tip catching in your hole. One of his hands grips your hip tightly, so hard it stings.

It's ridiculous how sensitive he is, especially the deeper he goes. It's like your tight, wet heat is him sinking into his own little slice of heaven. He's babbling something to you, some sweet nothings growled into your ear as he watches himself disappear into you, but you're too busy on keeping it together.

He stops midway. You aren't having it. He's stronger than you, thinks he knows better than you, so it should be his way or the highway- but when you push yourself deeper on him-- downright spearing yourself on the monstrous thing, he's seeing stars. Goes entirely rigid surrounded by you, fighting off an orgasm threatening to spill over before anything ever began.

You're never able to get him to the root, it couldn't be physically possible for you, nor any other human. Never stopped you from trying, and he always appreciated that stubbornness in you.

[katz-rambles]

Aphrodisiac sex with Viktor has taken over my brain. So I'm gonna write about it 🤭.

My first Arcane fic!! Wooo!! I hope I wrote his character well!

(nsfw, fem!reader, use of aphrodisiacs, alcohol mentioned, masturbation, oral (fem and male receiving), dom-ish!reader, sub-dom!Viktor, Viktors a tease, friends to lovers?, I think this is it!)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

The night started out normal, enough. You went out with some friends for a nice girls night out filled with drinks and gossip, and it was an amazing night. You're relatively tipsy by the time everyone is ready to go home, it's about half past midnight, and the only thing you can think about is going to bed. That is until, about half way home. A sudden spark flows through your veins, creating a dull fog in your mind. Maybe you had a bit more to drink than you thought you did.

You've decided to walk a tad bit quicker to get home. A small apartment in the downtown of Piltover, it's a nice size and not too expensive, especially since you're sharing it, and the fact that there's only one bedroom inside just adds to the fact. You're just glad that Viktor doesn't mind sharing a bed.

You have to fumble with your keys for an embarrassing amount of time before you can actually unlock the door. It's silent inside the apartment, there's no sign that Viktor has already come home. Although, that wouldn't surprise you, ever since he and Jayce started to work on the Hextech, you've been seeing less and less of him in your shared apartment.

You push off a shower until the morning, it can wait a few more hours, it's too late. When you enter the bedroom, you almost scream when your eyes focus well enough to see someone sitting at the small desk in the room. So he is home, you rub your temples and sigh. He’s always staying up late. You don't want him to hurt his back, more than he already has, by being in such an awkward position all night. So you gently grab onto his shoulders to try and wake him up, his shirt has slipped and your palm rests on the bare skin, the warmth that comes from him could burn you. From such a simple touch that foggy haze fills your head once again, when Viktor is in a better position you'll get a drink of water. You tighten your grip on his shoulders and carefully shake him, a sad attempt to wake him. You would just carry him to the bed, you're strong enough, but you don't want to irritate his leg.

“Hey, Viktor.. are you awake?” You whisper, when you feel him stir. No response comes from him, but you're not going to give up any time soon. So this time you try a different method, you crouch beside him and lift up his head to try and see if he's awake, and he's not. Of course he's not. But you're determined to save his back from his hunched position. Each time you try something different and your hand makes contact with him, you can feel another spark flow through your veins and the foggy haze in your head gets stronger. Maybe this time you'll just splash him with ice cold water, but that'll probably give the poor thing a heart attack.

“Viktor, come on. You can't stay like this,” you groan and try to shake him awake, once again to no avail, and your feet are starting to ache from crouching in your heels for so long. At this point you're starting to give up, and you try to shake him one last time. Your hand rests on his waist this time, the other on his arm, you can feel the warmth of his body, along with his scent, a mix of oil, metal, and his shampoo that creates an intoxicating smell that you'll never get enough of now, from this position and, as much as you may hate to admit it, it sparks a dull throb in your core. “Vik.. please?” You shake him, trying to ignore the fire that's sparked inside of you, and this time he does wake up. A shallow gasp escapes from him as he pushes his head up and rubs the back of his neck. He lets out a low groan and looks over at you, the noise has you thinking about just how he would sound if you had your way with him.

This time it's his turn to shake you from your, not so innocent, thoughts, and he pushes himself up from the desk, now standing while you're still crouching. The position puts you at the perfect level that your thoughts start to wander again. “Just how much did you have to drink?” He chuckles as you stand yourself up, one of his hands reaches to press against your forehead, and it burns. You can't tell if it's him or you that's warmer, but the contact has a familiar pulse starting at your core. Just before he's able to say something you push his hand away from yourself. “Enough,” you reply, trying to shake the feeling away.

He scoffs and leans against the desk, and you can't deny how fucking hot he looks. His hair is messed up, his clothes have wrinkles in them, and his hands, god his hands, have traces of whatever he was using back at the lab on them.

You decide to take a shower now, maybe this way you can deal with the problem of your hormones raging like a horny teen. The warm water feels like it's been sent straight from heaven and down on your aching muscles, you can feel yourself relaxing under the water. You let your hand drift to your breasts and massage the flesh of one and then the other, feeling your nipples harden under your palm. Each touch you give yourself, you let yourself imagine that it's Viktor. You place your free hand over your mouth to silence your gasp when you push a finger inside your hole to find yourself dripping from such light touches. You curl your finger up to try and hit that one spongy spot inside you, and when you finally find it, you hope that your hand muffled the loud moan you let out. You slowly add another finger, wishing it was his instead of your own. You set a steady rhythm of your fingers, while grinding your swollen clit against your palm. You bit down on your hand in a sad attempt of silencing yourself, silently praying that the mix of your palm and the running water will be enough to not let your moans escape the bathroom. You start to speed up your fingers as you feel your orgasm get closer, desperately grinding against your palm for the friction you crave against your clit. Soon enough your orgasm crashes down on you, and you let out a loud moan. Now you're left panting from the aftershocks of your orgasm, yet even after that, the haze and pulse is still evident. Maybe you should just sleep it off.

The shower you had was relaxing and when you come out you find Viktor sitting up on the bed, with a book in hand. You crawl into bed beside him and lay your head onto the pillow, closing your eyes and relishing in the cold feeling of the fabric against your, still burning hot, skin. Even after a long shower the feeling hasn't stopped, and now being right beside Viktor, it's seemed to double. “Are you okay?” Viktor asks, when you lift your head up from the cold release of the pillow, all you can muster is a nod, if you open your mouth you're afraid you might just moan, you can feel his body heat from under the covers and his scent is evident in the bed. “I'm fine, Vik, think I just had a little too much to drink,” you laugh and rest your cheek on one of your arms, “but I'll be fine after a good sleep.”

Viktor sighs and lifts your face up, his hand holding your chin. He studies your face and you can feel your face heat up from his intense gaze. “Hmm, you don't seem fine. You're practically burning up,” he states. The way his accent sounds when he speaks has you clenching your thighs and hoping he doesn't see you doing so. He keeps your face in his hand for a few more seconds before he finally lets go, “maybe it was one of the drinks you had making you burn up.” He brushes some stray hairs out of your face and he shuffles so you're both laying down, he pulls your face closer to him and squints his eyes at you, before he can say anything else you pull him closer and kiss him, feeling his reciprocate the kiss just spurts you on more and you thread your fingers in his hair.

He rests a hand on the curve of your waist and when you feel it you pull away and feel yourself internally panic, “holy shit, I'm sorry. I have no fucking clue whats gotten into-” Before you're able to finish your scentance he pulls you back down and kisses you. His hand trails down your waist towards your thigh and he strokes the side of your thigh, occasionally giving the fat of your thigh a squeeze. “I told you. It was one of the drinks.” He mumbles against your lips and grabs your hip and pulls you closer, you take the hint and quickly climb on top of him, straddling his hips, and he groans when you grind down on his semi hard erection.

You pull away from his lips just long enough to tug his shirt off, quickly doing the same with your own, before connecting your lips again. You start to trail kisses down his jawline, towards his neck, leaving a kiss on his adams apple, and moving to the side of his neck to leave more kisses and occasional harsh sucks to form a mark, savouring the noises he lets out every time you do. Being careful to not hurt his leg, you move yourself down to trail your kisses lower and lower until you reach the hem of his pants. “May I?” You ask breathlessly and he chuckles, “you practically tore off my shirt, you think I'd say no now.” He scoffs, a teasing undertone to his words that causes the throb in your core to heighten. You pull down his pants and boxers to let him dick out, wrapping your hand around the base and giving him a few strokes before you wrap your mouth around the tip, licking up the bead of precum that's settled there. He groans and tangles his fingers in the strands of your hair, not pushing or pulling but just resting his hand there. You start to bob your head, making sure to tease the tip, relishing in the noises he's making, a mix of delicious groans and whimpers leave his lips and it spurs you on more. He thrusts his hips up and the tip hits the back of your throat causing you to gag around him, his fingers gently tug on your hair and when you look up at him he lets out a loud groan. You use one of your hands to reach down and rub your clit, matching the pace of your fingers with the pace of your head. He thrusts his hips up again, this time a little rougher, and you know he's getting close. You swirl your tongue around the tip and he pulls your head off him. “No, when I cum, it'll be inside you.” He says, and you whine at the loss of friction when you pull your hand away from your aching clit. He pulls you to him and kisses you, savouring the way you taste and groaning when he tastes himself on your lips. You pull your pants off and straddle his hips again, lifting yourself up and lining his cock up. You give him a few strokes and slowly start to sink down.

The stretch is delicious and you moan when you've lowered yourself all the way. He brings one of his hands to your thigh and rubs it, you place your hands on his chest and start to lift yourself up. You whimper as you do so, adjusting to the stretch. A few seconds of just having his tip inside you, you lower yourself back down and repeat, slowly getting faster and rougher with each bounce. Soon you're riding him, one of your hands is on his chest, supporting yourself and the other rests on Viktors hand that's squeezing your thigh. You speed up a bit more and he groans when he feels you clench around him, his head falls back onto the pillow. His hand leaves your thigh and he brings it up and starts expertly rubbing your clit, for a second you find yourself jealous of his experienced fingers.

“Viktor! Fuck.. please don't stop!” You moan and clench around him, his hips start to rut up to meet your bounces. You both know that you're close and you know you aren't going to last very long. Your moans start to become more frequent and at a higher pitch, one of your hands leaves red scratches down his chest as you feel your orgasm get closer. Your nails dig into his skin and you bury your face in his neck, biting down on the sensitive skin when your orgasm hits you, your pussy pulses around his cock and with a few more thrusts up he's cumming inside you, his muscles tensing and he's moaning.

You both lay with each other for a few seconds before Viktor speaks up, “do you feel better?” He chuckles when you nod, you're still panting and you rest your forehead against his, a sheen of sweat on you both. You whimper when you push yourself up and feel his softening cock slide out of you, the globs of cum that drip out of you make you whine. He grabs your hips and pulls your pussy closer to him. “I can't have you dripping on the bed, we just changed the sheets.” He groans and pulls you so you're sitting on his face, his tongue lapping at your folds and tracing your clit. You can feel the vibrations of him laughing when you squirm on top of him, his hands have a tight grip on your hips, ensuring you don't move too much. You thread your fingers in his hair, tugging on it as you start to grind your hips on his face. He ravages you, eating you out like a starved man. The curve of his nose bumps your swollen and sensitive clit deliciously and you pull on his hair at the feeling, when you do he groans into your pussy. He doesn't slow down or even hint at stopping as you can feel your third orgasm of the night creep up on you.

“Fuck! Viktor.. ‘m so close!” You whimper and grind your hips down on his face, the obscene slurping noises that come from him just fuel your arousal. You tighten your grip on his hair and your thighs tense around his face as your orgasm hits, your squirming as he helps you ride out your orgasm. He laps up all of your juices until you're trying to push yourself off from sensitivity. “There we go,” he sighs when you move off his face, he has a sheen of your arousal around his mouth and he licks his lips and smirks at you, “now you won't drip on the clean sheets.” You laugh and he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you, you can taste yourself on his lips and it’s one of the best things you’ve ever tasted.

“How did you know it was the drink?” You ask him, feeling your eyelids grow heavy with each word that leaves your lips. “Aphrodisiac, it was easy enough to figure out when you came out of the shower. You're not as quiet as you think you are,” He smirks when you groan at him. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, one of his hands rubs your back, drawing random shapes and figures, and successfully lulling you to sleep.

[babyleostuff]

baby, you’re a drunk mess

fluff 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!wonwoo x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 958

. . . being drunk is not that bad when you have wonwoo to take care of you

wonwoo knew exactly how this night would end the second he received a message from seungcheol, inviting you over for a drink. it never ended with only a drink. 

„baby, lean on me,” wonwoo grabbed you tighter by your waist, as you stumbled over your own feet, trying to act as if you weren't totally waisted. “i’m going to kill mingyu for making her play that drinking game”. 

„m’ fine,” you mumbled. „see, i can walk on m’ own,” you took his hand that was resting on your hip, and shoved it away, taking a step forward. wonwoo smirked at your weak attempt to push him away, considering you were drunk out of your mind, but your confidence that you were so much stronger than him was truly comical. he knew he shouldn’t have let you go, but maybe if you eventually ran into a wall or something you’d cooperate better because there was no way he’d get you home with you acting like this. 

wonwoo could only shake his head in amusement, while following your every slow step. there was no way he’d actually let you fall. „you’re doing great, sweetie, but let me help you, hm?” you whipped your head around, glaring at him. „i can do it,” you hiccuped, „on m’ own,” you said, but as you took another step, you stumbled once again, falling right back into your boyfriend’s embrace. 

„are you done?” he shifted you around, so he could hold you properly, taking most of your body weight on him. you nodded, and put your hands around his bicep, finally calming down. wonwoo slowly started walking towards your apartment, holding you tenderly, and even though he didn't have to see your drooping eyelids, he could feel your energy dropping with every step. 

somehow he managed to open the door and get you to the bed without either of you falling over. "okay, now let's lie down," he said quietly so as not to startle you, seeing that you were already half asleep. you nodded weakly, and with his help, you finally managed to lie on the bed.

wonwoo stroked your head gently and kissed your slightly sweaty forehead before turning on the bedside lamp next to the bed so he could turn off the main light and enflug your room into soft darkness.

„wonwoo,” you called softly. 

„i’ll be right back baby, we have to wipe your makeup off.”

after turning off the light, he quickly went to the bathroom where he took all the things he would need to put you to sleep. "i'm coming," he said, grabbing one of his t-shirts and hoodies from the closet in case you were cold at night (especially since he knew that when you were drunk you became clingier and wearing his clothes always made you so happy). 

he put all the things on the bed and grabbed your hands. "come on honey, you need to change." happy that you were cooperating so much better than you were fifteen minutes ago, he easily helped you change into his clothes and placed you back on the pillows so he could wash off your makeup.

“you don't have to do this, wonwoo,” you whispered, but when he placed a cotton pad on your face, you closed your eyes and sighed, grateful that you had someone who could take care of you so well. "Was I very insufferable today?"

wonwoo didn’t even move, he just continued to focus on your face, slowly removing more of the makeup from your face. "you're never insufferable," he said. "don't ever say that."

"i know, but i feel like i ruined your night because you have to take care of me and-"

"do you want me to get mad at you?" he asked sharply, looking straight into your tired eyes. "you didn't ruin my night. being with my brothers and you at the same time is the biggest gift from the universe, no matter how drunk you are. i'm your boyfriend, i'm here to take care of you, just like you take care of me ,” he said, throwing out a used cotton pad. "should i remind you how many things you do for me when i'm busy at work? how you prepare my food for rehearsals, and how you do my laundry when i'm too tired to do it? when you listen to me complain for hours about how exhausted i am?"

"baby, drunk or not, i will always take care of you, and not because i have to, or because it's my duty, but because i love you," he said with sincerity in his eyes, and despite your not-so-sober state, you didn't miss his look full of love. "seeing you having fun with my friends means everything to me." you nodded slightly in understanding. what did you do to deserve jeon wonwoo?

"okay, make-up removed, clothes changed, do you need anything else?"

"maybe water?"

"of course, let’s just get you under the covers."

after covering you up, wonwoo went out to the kitchen to get a glass of water and painkillers for tomorrow morning and returned to your bedroom.

“okay, now we can-,” his words faltered when he saw you already asleep, your hand on his pillow, and you snuggled into yours. he placed the glass and pills on your bedside table quietly, and turned off the light before lying on his side of the bed, lifting your hand and placing it on his stomach. almost as if you knew in your sleep that he was next to you, you placed your head on his chest, treating it like your new, comfy pillow.

"i'm a drunk mess," you whispered after a while, kissing his jaw.

"yes. but you're my drunk mess."

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[navybrat817]

Out of My Head

Pairing: Chubby Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky feels a bit insecure during a romantic evening and you do your best to get him out of his head.

Word Count: Over 2.6k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, dirty talk, possessiveness, a/b/o dynamics, insecurities, self-doubt, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's crazy about you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @missvelvetsstuff, @honeyglee (chubby!Bucky), and @bucksbabee (rose petals) all requested for alpha!Bucky to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #27 and #32 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wanted tonight to be romantic. Candles, rose petals, the works. Not for any sort of special occasion, but because his omega deserved only the best. Day in and day out. He hoped it was enough to make you feel loved and adored. It was a wonder that you were with an alpha like him.

If you looked inside his head, you’d tell him there was no reason for him to think he wasn't the perfect man for you. That he was a good partner and alpha. Had been from the start. That you loved him. And you did. You never once gave him a reason to doubt that.

If only he could push away the negative voice in his mind that seemed determined to bring him down tonight.

“Bucky?”

Tilting his head, everything around him became muted as he focused on you. Laying on your side with your naked body exposed to him, he watched the candlelight cast a glow upon your skin. Both of you lost your clothes earlier in the evening, content to lay beside each other for the time being. He wished some days that you didn't have to wear clothes at all. You and your body were made to be worshiped.

Unlike him.

Bucky almost covered himself up with the blanket. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but he was soft in places where he was once firm. While he had been on the thicker side for years, he now had some pudge to go along with it. Handsome or not, he just wasn't in the same shape he used to be when he was younger. What if one day you didn’t like that? What if you wanted someone different? Stronger?

Better?

“You're thinking too hard again,” you said, picking up one of the rose petals to brush across his forehead. He smiled when he realized you traced a heart. “I can feel it.”

He inhaled your scent to ground himself. Orange, cinnamon, honey. The aroma of you made his mouth water. It comforted him, too. He hadn't associated any kind of smell with a sense of home until you.

“I’m thinking about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smiled, nuzzling into your pillow more as you gazed at him. “What about me?”

“Just how amazing you are,” he answered.

When he looked into your eyes the first time, he expected to see his imperfections staring back at him like they had with so many others. But the way you looked at him with kindness, acceptance, and want, everything fell into place. Pieces of himself he didn’t know were missing found their way back to him and made him while again. His heart didn't stand a chance.

It belonged to you.

Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.

How is that possible? How does a goddess want me? What the hell is wrong with me tonight?

“You know you look at me some days like I'm not even real?” You asked, reaching over to run your fingers through his hair. He moaned and turned his head to nose along your wrist. He craved your touch and scent like nothing else. “Like you're in some sort of a dream and you're afraid you're going to wake up if you look away.”

“Because you’re everything I could ever want. You occupy every single thought in my head, and every single dream,” he whispered. Even his dreams couldn't come up with someone as amazing as you. “And maybe I am afraid that this isn't real.”

Your brows pinched. “Why is that?”

He leaned over to kiss your forehead, wanting to ease the worry from your face. “I’m not sure. You just seem too good to be true and it feels like I might wake up to find you gone. Or that one day…” He rested back, swallowing hard. “You’ll decide you just don't want me anymore.”

You whined, a distraught sound that broke his heart. He wanted to take back those words, but he didn’t want to hide his feelings no matter how much it hurt to talk about them. “Bucky, I’m not going anywhere.” You shook your head vehemently as you sat up. “And I want you. I always do. Why would you ever think I wouldn't want you?”

“Because look at me.” He waved his hand over his torso, averting his gaze as if to hide his vulnerability. “How can someone like you want someone like me?”

He wanted to take the words back the moment they left his mouth when another wounded whine spilled from your lips. You placed your hands on his cheeks and brought his gaze back to you. There was mist over your eyes like you were going to cry and he wanted to chase that look away. “How can I want you? Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? How wonderful you are?” You kept a hand on his face as the other slid down to his neck. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

His eyes slowly opened. He hadn't realized he shut them. “Doll, I’m sorry. I-”

“You're perfect. Inside and out. And don't say you aren't because you're perfect to me.” There was a hint of a growl on your tone as your hand moved lower. Well, as much of a growl as an omega could muster. You defended him so fiercely. “No one takes care of me the way you do. No one loves me the way you do. I’m the luckiest person in the world because I get to call you my mate.”

A strangle moan escaped when your hand brushed along his stomach. He never thought it would feel so sensitive, but no one else has really touched it since he got bigger. Except for you. “Omega.”

“You think you aren’t everything I want?” You tilted your head so he could see the mark he left. His chest swelled with pride. You never covered it up or put a collar over it, wanting everyone to see that you were claimed. He had a mark, too.

He was yours just as much as you were his.

“I know in my heart that you want me, I know that. I can feel that. But my head keeps reminding me tonight that I’m just bigger than I used to be and I have no idea why,” he said, shutting his eyes again. “It’s stupid.”

Why was his body such an issue this evening? This was supposed to be romantic, not a time to pick at his inner wounds. Maybe there was a reason he wasn't aware of. Maybe he needed to cut the wounds open so the warmth of your bond could slowly heal them.

“It isn’t stupid. Your feelings are never stupid, do you hear me? And you being bigger? Isn't that just more of you that I get to love?” There was no disgust or judgment as you rubbed his stomach again. Your sincerity almost made him choke up when he opened his eyes to gaze at you. “Bucky, believe me when I say that this isn’t a dream. This is real. I'm real and I love you. I’ll love you no matter what. That is never going to change.”

His chest rumbled at your declaration and he couldn't help but reach for you, needing to feel your body close. “I love you, too.”

He closed his eyes again when you pressed your lips to his. The bond crackled with your affection and care before his tongue slipped past your lips. The crackling intensified, your desire and need flowing into him like molten lava. It was going to burn him alive. He’d gladly perish that way.

Thank you. I love you. I’m sorry.

“Feel this,” you urged when you broke the kiss, putting his hand over your heart.

“Is that for me?” He asked as it raced under his touch.

“It’s only for you, Bucky,” you promised, slowly guiding his hand down your body. “Now feel this.”

You didn't stop until his hand rested between your thighs. “And that’s for me?” He growled as he touched your pussy, your slick coating his fingers.

You gasped and he half expected you to agree that it was, but you pulled away. He tried not to let his insecurities bubble back up and hoped his scent didn't change to something unpleasant. You assured him that he was perfect in your eyes. That you wanted him. And loved him. But it didn't mean you had to-

“It’s for you. Only you,” you said, turning toward the front of the bed to press your chest against it. “See, alpha?”

Bucky sat up as you raised your hips higher and presented yourself to him. He growled softly as he licked away the wetness from his fingers and eyed your twitching, slick-drenched hole. The blood that roared in his ears quickly rushed south and the beast inside snarled at the insecure voice to not say another word. You wanted him. Would always want him. You assured him of that with both your words and your body.

“Take a good look. It’s such a pretty hole for you to ruin. You want to ruin it, don't you? Ruin me?” You asked sweetly, briefly lifting your head to look over your shoulder. The blue around Bucky’s pupils shrank to a small ring, barely visible from how aroused he was at the sight of you. “Please, wreck me. Make me say your name.”

He had a hand wrapped around his cock, the alpha within him clawing to break through the surface. Biology would've screamed at any alpha to take you. Knot you. Breed you. But you didn’t want just any alpha. Wouldn't beg for just any alpha.

He was the alpha you chose.

“And you know that isn’t my instinct talking since I’m not in heat. This is me wanting you, Bucky Barnes,” you said as if you read his mind, snaking a hand between your legs. He almost wished you were on your back so he could play with your beautiful breasts, but he had all night to do so. “I’m so wet for you and so empty. I’m aching. You don’t even have to prep me. Just get in me. Take me.”

You gasped when he was suddenly behind you, his large body draped over yours. “That’s my pussy you're touching, omega,” he growled, pinning you down by the neck. “And I’m the only one getting you off tonight.”

“Yes, alpha,” you purred.

His belly rubbed against you as he raised your hips an inch higher and he tensed up only for a moment before he realized you pushed back against him, trying to take him in. He growled as he sat back and looked down at you, your body quivering from the low and feral sound. Deeply inhaling, he could taste your lust and love on his tongue from how strong it was. As much as he wanted to dive down and devour you, he needed to fill you up and leave his mark inside you once again.

“Not just gonna ruin you with my cock,” he said, brushing the thick head of his cock between your folds. “Gonna ruin you with my mouth after. Make your flood it with that sweet slick and drink it down ‘til you scream how much you love me.”

“Yes. Please, alpha. I want your cock. Your mouth. Anything,” you begged, keeping your head down when he folded over you again. You didn’t fear his size or weight crushing you. It excited you. He could smell it.

“You need me?” His lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Say my name.”

You whimpered when he pressed himself against your entrance. He tried to go slow since he hadn’t prepped you, but you could take him. “I need you. Only you, Bucky,” you sighed, trembling as he pushed in an inch more.

He gasped out your name, powerless to resist the pull as he sank as deep inside you as he could. His eyes fluttered when you clenched around him. Nothing felt as good as your slick cunt. Tight, but opened up for him so beautifully. And nothing else mattered or existed outside of you.

“Move, please. Don’t hold back,” you moaned.

Overwhelming pleasure flowed through him as his body blanketed yours. You embraced every part of him and he wanted to smother you with his scent. “Remember, omega, you begged for this.”

Whatever sense of control he had disappeared as he thrust, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his grunts a stark contrast to the romantic setting of the room. You couldn't push your hips back, but your pussy welcomed each movement as you cried out. Even with his vicious thrusts, it was somehow sensual when he nuzzled your neck.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Yours,” you moaned.

He hadn't known he said the words aloud, too lost in his primal haze. By the sounds of your moans and feel of your clenching walls, you were close already. It pleased him knowing how much he pleased you. He wanted to draw it out, make it last. He also wanted to bring you over the edge again and again.

“Does that feel good? You love getting fucked by your big, strong mate?” He grunted, heat pulsing through his veins.

“Yes. So strong,” you whimpered, reaching back to grip his hair. “So big.”

He groaned, raw pleasure bubbling through every part of his body. “Yeah, I'm big and you love it. And you love my cock ruining your pretty hole?”

“Yes, Bucky. I, hmm, love your cock.” You mewled when his teeth scraped along your skin. “Love you.”

He nosed along your neck again, slipping a hand beneath your body. “Then show my cock how much you love me,” he ordered, teasing your swollen clit. “Come all over it.”

You screamed his name as promised, slick gushing as you spasmed around him. He didn't stop, his hips snapping faster and harder as you shook through it. To feel you let go and hear those sounds of ecstasy as you rode out the waves was an honor. He needed to join you on the ride.

“Such a good omega. My omega. Gonna fill you up. So. Fucking. Good.” He growled the last word as he spilled inside you, panting with his release. The sensations blended with your earlier words, surrounding him in bliss. You were bliss.

Careful not to crush or jolt you, he rolled to his side and took you with him as he stayed nestled inside you. He murmured praise against your skin as you snuggled back against him. He didn't want to leave your body just yet. Not when you felt so good. Not when the terrible voice remained quiet.

About time you shut the fuck up and let me enjoy the evening with my mate.

“Better?” You breathed, looking over your shoulder with hopeful eyes.

Both of your hearts racing still, your purr mixed with his rumble, he wondered why he was so bothered before since his insecurities weren't a constant thing. Everyone had their off days though, including you. Sometimes for no concrete reason at all. That was life, but he couldn't ask for a better partner and mate to help him through the ups and downs, big or small.

“Much better. Thank you,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. “But one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

He wrapped his arm tighter around you and didn't flinch as his stomach pressed more against your back. “I love you, too.”

Always, my sweet omega.

And should you ever doubt his want or love for you, he’d be sure to assure you the way you did for him.

Lovelies, I was TERRIFIED to post this, but I'm in love with them. Maybe we'll see them again? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[misswynters]

A love is born

short drabble

featuring. ekko x wife!pregnant!reader

requested. by anon

a/n. did this quick drabble for ekko while in the car (sorry if theres any mistakes) bare with me i don’t have real life experiences on this 😅

This wasn’t the polished clinics of Piltover; it was a midwife’s modest but welcoming space tucked away in the heart of the zaun. It was humble, cluttered with jars of herbs, and yet cozy with its patched quilts and faint scent of chamomile. The air carried a faint mix of antiseptic and lavender, a calming attempt amidst the chaos that was trying to deliver a baby into the world.

Ekko paced the small room, his usual calm confidence nowhere to be found. His brows were furrowed, his gloves tugged off and crumpled in his hands as he glanced between you and the midwife. You were on the bed, your body rigid with pain, sweat beading your forehead. Yet, you were calm. Way calmer than him, at least.

“I’m here. I’m right here,” he muttered, crouching by your side for the hundredth time, his voice unsteady but his hand steady on yours. “You’re doing amazing. Uh, does it feel better? Worse? Should I—” His words stumbled over each other before he caught himself, realizing he was no help like this.

“Ekko,” you rasped, your voice raw but firm enough to pull him back to focus. “Breathe.”

He let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his hair, now damp from the sweat of nerves. “Yeah, yeah, breathing. Got it.” He inhaled deeply, clearly for your benefit, before returning his wide, worried eyes to you. “Seriously though, does it always hurt this much? Should it—” He cut himself off at the withering look from the midwife, who was focused entirely on you.

“Let her focus,” the midwife snapped, her tone brisk but not unkind. “And stop pacing like a cornered rat.”

“I’m not—” He stopped mid-defense, huffing and rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, maybe a little.” But despite his nervous energy, he never let go of your hand, even when your grip turned stronger with each contraction.

“You’ve done tougher things than this,” he murmured, trying to sound steady again. “Remember that time you���uh, climbed that blasted factory vent in the dead of night? With the guards chasing you?”

Your only response was a groan, followed by a sharp inhale as another wave of pain hit. He winced as if feeling it himself. “Okay, not the time for anecdotes. Got it.”

Hours blurred together, but Ekko never once left your side, even as his own nerves seemed to unravel by the second. When you squeezed your eyes shut in agony, he leaned closer, whispering whatever words of encouragement came to mind. When you snapped at him to stop talking, he did just that, only to fidget in silence until you scolded him for that too.

When the midwife finally announced the baby was crowning, Ekko froze for a moment, his eyes darting to yours, wide and disbelieving. “This is it?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“Push,” the midwife instructed firmly, ignoring him entirely.

“You got this,” Ekko said, gripping your hand tighter. “You’re incredible, you’re so—oh, shit, that’s the head—” His words trailed off into a mixture of awe and panic as he got his first glimpse of the baby. He leaned closer, torn between wanting to see more and not wanting to distract you.

And then it happened. A cry filled the room, as the midwife held up a tiny, squirming baby. Ekko’s mouth dropped open, his hand still clutching yours as if grounding himself to reality.

“It’s a boy,” the midwife announced, quickly wrapping the baby in a soft, worn blanket before placing him in your arms.

For a moment, Ekko didn’t move, his eyes locked on the tiny bundle in your arms. The expression on his face was one you’d never seen before. It was half wonder, half disbelief, and entirely filled with love.

“He’s… perfect,” Ekko finally breathed, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. He reached out hesitantly, his hand hovering above the baby’s head. “Can I…?”

You nodded, your exhaustion giving way to a small, tired smile as you handed the baby to him. Ekko took him as if he were the most fragile thing in the world, his hands surprisingly steady as he cradled his son for the first time.

“Hey, little guy,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m your dad. And you’re… so tiny.” He laughed softly, shaking his head.

He didn’t stop looking at the baby, his thumb brushing gently over the tiny hand that had somehow already grabbed onto his finger. His grin widened as the baby’s grip tightened slightly. “Strong grip. Yeah, you’re definitely gonna take after your mom.”

“Ekko,” you called softly, your voice still weak but laced with amusement. “You gonna let me hold him again?”

“In a minute,” he replied, not looking up. “Just… let me have this moment.” His grin turned sheepish, but he didn’t let go.

The midwife chuckled as she cleaned up, clearly amused by his reaction. “First time fathers,” she muttered under her breath.

Ekko stayed by your side, the baby still in his arms as if he couldn’t bear to part with him. Even as exhaustion crept into his features, his eyes never left his son. “We did this,” he said softly, finally glancing at you. “You did this. You’re… you’re amazing, y'know.”

“Don’t forget you had a part in it,” you teased, though your voice was barely above a whisper. Laying there in the bed all sweaty as you watched Ekko be absolutely amused with the baby.

He laughed, his face lighting up in a way that made your heart swell despite the exhaustion. “Yeah, well you’re the one who did the hard part.”

As the baby started to fall asleep in his arms, Ekko leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Welcome to the world, little guy.” The room fell quiet, the chatter from the halls outside was the only sound as the three of you settled into a new, fragile kind of peace.

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[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 9 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: You have a hold on Jake like nobody ever has before. You've got him breaking rules and tripping over his own feelings. But he should have known from the start how things would end. You should have, too.

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, adult language, unprotected p in v intercourse, 18+

Length: 2900 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

He had to be completely out of his mind. Taking you without a condom was going to make his desire to be with you so much stronger. He knew that, but he had you spread out on his bed anyway. Even entertaining the idea of sliding inside you bare was enough to make him come, but he needed to make sure, once again, that he was good for you. And that he pulled out in time.

No woman had ever looked at him the way you did. Almost expectantly. Like you trusted him. You had a smart mouth on you, and he never knew what you were going to say when you smirked at him. His response to you still caught him off guard. He wanted to keep being surprised by you.

But as he watched you touching yourself, it wasn't surprising at all that he was about to cave to what you asked for. You were soaking wet, whimpering his name while your fingers glided through your gorgeous pussy. Your body was like a beacon that lured him in, and he needed to touch you. He kissed you everywhere, trying to get himself under control, but every brush of his lips to your breasts made his heart beat faster. Every time he kissed you, it made him feel so much warmer. He was dizzy as he replaced your fingers with the tip of his cock, running it through your pussy.

"You do something crazy to me, Darlin'," he crooned next to your ear as he pushed against your opening, giving you just the tip. You were so tight, but your body invited him to go further, practically pulling him in. "Can't get enough."

A soft whine escaped your lips as he gave you another inch, and you spread your legs wider. Jake kissed away all of the sounds you made, wanting to taste them in his mouth. You body coaxed him deeper, and he went willingly, basking in your wet warmth without any barrier to dampen just how fucking good you felt to him. No, he wasn't going to recover from this.

When he bottomed out, tight balls resting against your ass, you kissed him frantically. Your fingers were raking through his hair as you shivered and said, "You feel so good." Jake grunted, trying to keep himself from thrusting. "Thick and warm. I like this so much better without a condom," you sighed.

"Oh god," he groaned against your lips. Every sensation was heightened. He could feel so much more pleasure, but it was the lightheaded feeling of making you his own that spurred him on. He gave you one slow thrust, and your beautiful response filled his ears. Your skin and warm pussy were everywhere. Your body was all he needed to know. He wanted you to have everything you deserved right now. "You feel exquisite. And I just want to make you come this way."

"Jake," you gasped, eyes fluttering closed as he pushed himself deeper. 

Your clit was pressed against him, and he could feel everything as you gripped him softly, and he grabbed at your hips to calm himself down. Raw excitement bubbled up inside him as he glided in and out of your body, eliciting filthy fucking moans from you. He kissed your soft skin and breathed in the scent of your hair as he maintained an almost painfully slow pace that he knew would eventually have your pussy milking him for everything he was worth.

"It's so good," you whispered. "So good. So good!"

His teeth grazed your ear as he grunted your name. "This bare pussy is just for me, right?"

"Uh huh."

But that wasn't good enough for him. His voice was shaking with arousal, skin slick with sweat, and he needed to hear your voice assuring him. "I want to hear you say it, Darlin'. What are you always going to make sure guys do?"

Your hands eased down the back of his neck and across his shoulders. "Wear a condom," you replied breathlessly.

"Good girl," he praised, and you whimpered in response. "Who's allowed to fuck you without one?"

He pushed himself deep again, and your pussy responded by pulsing around him as you said, "Just you."

"That's right," he grunted, withdrawing himself slowly, letting you feel every inch. "Lesson twelve: I'm the only one allowed to do this to you."

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

Your fingertips were numb. Maybe you should have been concerned about that as you grabbed at Jake's biceps, but the rest of you felt like you were about to unlock the secrets of the universe. Every sound you made was absorbed by his kisses as he fucked you just right. It was different without a condom. Better. Way better. And you could tell he thought so as well.

His hands were all over your body, and he couldn't seem to decide if he'd rather call you Darlin' or use your first name. Both sounded pretty in his voice as he pumped his hips against you, and you arched your back off his bed, ready to come for him. Just like he wanted. Just like you needed. But he drew it out of you methodically, and you knew it was going to be so good.

When pleasure washed through your veins, your fingers dug in tighter as you pulsed around his cock. Your brain was buzzing, and you knew he was going to have to pull out when it was time, but you couldn't speak a single word other than his name as you shook your head back and forth against the bed. Each time you thought you reached the peak, it just kept getting better, and all of your senses were heightened as you came crashing back down to the bed, still coming hard.

Only Jake was allowed to do this to you. Only he was allowed to skip a condom. Your whole body shivered in pleasure as you thought about it, and your voice filled your own ears as your orgasm took over. Your hips were bouncing up against his where you could feel him against your clit and every spot inside that made you go wild. You were chanting his name in time with your movements, unable to stop the needy whine from lacing your tone.

"Oh god, Jake!"

"Jesus Christ. You're so fucking good," he crooned, stroking your clit softly as you basked in the little aftershocks. He was still deep inside you, body wound tight like a coil, and you knew he was close.

A few more thrusts and he was a moaning mess, sucking on your neck before pulling his lips away. Then he was upright between your spread legs, and you looked at his wild green eyes as he fucked you with shallow strokes. "I'm right there, Darlin'," he panted. "I'm gonna cum."

When you smiled and nodded, he yanked himself free from your body, and one stroke in his hand left him coating up your belly. A ribbon of his cum landed on your breasts, and then he jerked himself off right onto your pussy, rubbing it into your skin with the tip of his cock. 

His shoulders were rising and falling, and his cheeks were growing pink again as he looked at what he'd done to your body. When you ran your index finger across your nipple and brought his cum to your mouth to taste him, his lips were on yours. You ran your hand along his shoulder and back up to his hair as his tongue tangled with yours. Now he was a mess, too, but you liked it this way. His movements were unhurried, so you didn't try to move yet.

His bedroom was getting a little darker. You could tell the sun would be setting soon, and maybe that was why he seemed to be in no rush to get the two of you cleaned up. You didn't want to leave. You wanted him to tell you the same thing. You'd gotten comfortable here where it was only the two of you. Since the first time he touched you, everything had felt easier than you ever anticipated.

But the longer Jake kissed you and let you lick his cum from his fingers, you started to panic. It was like you'd been in a bubble with him. Safe and secure with nobody else to concern yourselves with. You had class tomorrow. He had to go to work. He had invited you to stay for the entire weekend, but he was going to want his space back. Now that he upheld his end of the deal, and then some, he deserved to have you out of his hair so he could get on with his regular routine. Plan for the next weekend. The next girl.

When you stopped returning his kisses, he pulled back right away. "Alright, Darlin'?" he whispered, a touch of confusion clouding his smile. Suddenly you wanted to cry as you swallowed the lump of mixed emotion in your throat.

"Yeah," you replied softly, but it sounded fake to your own ears. It was hard to breathe. 

"Didn't I make you feel good?"

Of course he had. It was good every single time. There was a reason he was able to bring you so much pleasure, and it had nothing to do with you being what he wanted. "You're so good at fucking, no wonder all the tag chasers want you." You laughed sarcastically even as your throat grew tight with unshed tears. "I'm sure they all missed you this weekend. You can get back to them soon."

Jake's brow creased as his lips formed a frown. You had no idea why you said that to him. What was wrong with you? You'd been trying not to think about them all weekend. And now you'd never be able to take back what you just said.

His green eyes looked stern now, and his voice was strained as he said, "I'm not.... look, sex isn't the only thing I'm interested in." He sounded hurt, but you knew where you stood now that it was Sunday evening. You were a novelty worth two nights instead of one.

"But you took care of me," you replied as tears stung your eyes. "You brought me back here and helped me with my problem after I practically begged you to. And you were so good at it. You knew exactly what to do."

He sat up a little more and hung his head. "You never had a problem. Okay? And it wasn't just fucking to me. I don't know if you're too naive to understand the difference, or if you just weren't paying attention, but don't try to make me feel cheap now."

Both of you were coated up in his sticky cum, and even as you spoke again, you wanted to take back all of your words immediately. But you didn't want to cry here, and you didn't know what else to do. "I think you should drive me home."

Jake met your gaze, green eyes full of pain. "Darlin'," he started before pausing and pressing his lips together in a thin line. "Yeah. Okay."

He was still gentle as he took your hand, and you followed him into the bathroom where he ran a wet washcloth along your skin before cleaning himself up as well. He looked sad, and he didn't meet your eyes again. And maybe that was a good thing, because you were sure your tears would start if he did. 

You wanted to stay. You didn't want to leave until the last possible minute when he needed to get some sleep for work. You wanted to kiss him and tell him you never wanted to make him feel bad about himself, but you kept quiet instead. Silently, you followed him back to his bedroom where he pulled on the TOP GUN shirt you'd been wearing earlier along with a pair of his discarded gym shorts you were pretty sure would have to smell like your arousal.

You didn't know where any of your clothing was since it ended up all over the place two nights ago, but he seemed to know where to find everything. He pulled your tank top carefully over your head, but he still didn't meet your eyes. Then he grabbed your leather skirt from the arm of the couch and helped you back into it before zipping it up. Jake pointed at the couch as he picked up your sneakers, and after you sat down, he knelt in front of you, tying them for you after putting them on.

He was still sweet now as he silently got you ready to go. He wasn't cheap, and that wasn't even how you thought of him. "I'm sorry, Jake," you whispered, and he finally looked up at your face. "You were perfect."

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

Your apology rang in his ears, but he didn't know what else could be said about the weekend at this point. He wasn't perfect; you and he were perfect together. But you'd just thrown everything he did with you back in his face like you didn't seem to understand how much that was going to hurt him. It wasn't like he'd been thinking about other women while you were here. That was the furthest thing from his mind when you were in his arms.

He made love to you and let you pick his heart up right out of his chest. You let him get comfortable around you, and then equated him to someone with a one track mind who was only good at one thing. And now you were looking at him as your lip quivered, and all he wanted to do was pull you against his body and tell you it was all okay. But he wasn't really sure if it was. He'd been better for you this weekend than he could ever remember being with anyone else in his entire adult life, and he didn't want to ruin the bits of his memories that would still feel good later.

"Let's get you home," he whispered, and your gaze fell to the floor. He stood and reached for your hand, and you took it, walking a half step behind him like you didn't want to leave after all.

It was hard to breathe as he grabbed his keys and your purse from the kitchen counter. He thought about the three unused condoms still inside. Maybe you'd find someone more your style to share them with. The idea of it made him sick, and he wanted more than anything right now to remind you that you'd promised to use a condom with everyone else. But now all of the lessons sounded idiotic in his mind when he thought about them. You were never here for him. You were here for yourself. You could make your own decisions, because you were an adult. It didn't matter that he was half in love with you.

It was dark outside when he opened the passenger side door of his truck, and you held onto his hand for a full minute before climbing inside. It took all of his strength not to lean in and kiss you. He closed the door softly and got in the other side, and after that, the only sound was your soft voice giving him directions to your dorm.

It wasn't until he pulled up in front of the student housing and looked at the building through the window that he shook his head. You were too young to want to date him, and he should have remembered his place in all of this. It wasn't like it was your fault that he hadn't. He just got too caught up in the way you made him feel. When he turned to look at you, his heart melted as he watched you biting your lip apprehensively.

"It's alright, Darlin'. You didn't do anything wrong."

When you sniffed softly, he picked your purse up from the seat next to you and opened it up. Your phone battery was almost dead, and he had to have you unlock it for him, but then he went into your contacts to add his number.

"If you ever need something, call me. You can trust me," he promised as he typed his name into your address book.

"I know I can," you whispered, sniffing again as his fingers fumbled through typing out his phone number. When he hit save, your phone died, and he wasn't sure if the number would be there or not the next time you turned it on. The thought settled like a brick in his chest, but you were already reaching for your phone and purse as you leaned in to kiss his cheek. You sobbed, "Thank you," before opening the door and slamming it shut again after you climbed out. Then Jake watched you run toward the building as you wiped the back of your hand along your cheek.

He didn't move an inch until he made sure you were safely inside, catching one last glimpse of your sneakers as he realized he'd probably never see you again.

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

Well. She really freaked herself out. And she made him feel like shit. And he made her feel small for the first time all weekend. And now they have said goodbye. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

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[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Yandere batfamily x neglected reader

The manor is cold, silent as a tomb, and for once, it feels like a fitting home. You lie still on the bed, too small and fragile in the heavy, towering room. They all gather around you, each staring in shock, faces pale, breaths shallow—as if hoping that, by holding their breath, they might somehow trade their own life to coax warmth back into your cold form.

Bruce’s hand hovers over you, hesitant. His calloused fingers, so accustomed to war and violence, seem clumsy when they brush against your cheek. He trembles, silent, fighting against the whirlwind in his chest, his stoic mask cracked beyond repair. “I promised to keep you safe,” he whispers, his voice breaking in a way none of them have ever heard before. “I promised… and I failed you.” His hand, heavy with the weight of every failure, drops to his side, useless.

Dick’s hands cover his mouth, choking on a sob that won’t stay hidden. He’s the eldest, the one who was supposed to know better, to set the example. But he looks at you now, his eyes red and raw, remembering each time he walked past you, too busy laughing with others to notice you slipping away. “Why didn’t I tell you…?” he whispers, agony etched across his face. “Why didn’t I show you that you were loved?” The words fall into the silence, lost, and he knows you’ll never hear them now.

Jason kneels beside the bed, clutching your lifeless hand in his, as if he can pull you back with sheer force. His shoulders shake, his body radiating rage, despair, regret. His lips tremble as he remembers the countless times he shrugged off your gaze, ignored the quiet plea in your eyes. He thought he was sparing you from his darkness, protecting you from the world. But now he sees it for what it was—neglect, cold and unkind. He bows his head, the unbreakable Red Hood shattered, silent tears falling onto your still fingers.

Tim stands back, his face white, hands trembling as he presses his fists to his sides. The detective, the genius, who noticed everything—except you. He let the days slip by, assuming there’d always be more time, that you’d understand he was busy, preoccupied with saving the world. But now, as he watches the life drained from you, he feels a pang in his chest sharp enough to cut through bone. “I should’ve been there,” he whispers, voice barely audible. “I should’ve been a brother to you…” He stares at you, eyes rimmed with despair, the guilt hollowing him out from within.

Damian’s usual steel has melted into something unrecognizable. He doesn’t know how to touch you, where to place his hands, and the hesitation makes him feel powerless in a way he’s never known. He’d prided himself on being stronger, colder, above such weakness—but now, faced with your absence, he finds himself wishing he’d let you in, softened just a little. “You… you weren’t supposed to…” He can’t even finish, his words broken. He reaches out, almost unwilling, to touch your hand, flinching when it’s cold. His lips press into a thin line as he tries to hold back tears, but they fall, betraying the ache he’d been too proud to acknowledge.

They stay by your side, each of them reliving every lost opportunity, every moment they could have held you close and didn’t. Days pass, blurred, and they linger in the same room, surrounded by memories of what should have been.

When Alfred brings them food, they push it away. They can’t bear the thought of comfort while you lie there, untouched by life. They whisper to you, sometimes out loud, promising things they can’t ever deliver: "We'll make it up to you…we’ll fix this." But no voice answers back.

Driven by desperation, Bruce turns to ancient books, rumors, magic, anything that offers a hint of hope. He works night after night, chasing the impossible. The others follow him, each digging into their own corners of madness, driven by the need to correct what they destroyed. But every ritual fails, every lead falls cold. And the bitter truth gnaws deeper: there is no cure for regret, no resurrection from guilt.

The night finally falls silent, and they’re left alone with you, as if the universe itself mourns. Each of them curls beside you, their heads on the bed, hands on your arm, your hand, your chest, wherever they can cling to you, trying to pretend for one last moment that you’re still there. They hold on, eyes shut, whispering prayers to a god who’s deaf to their pain.

When morning breaks, none of them rise. They stay beside you, unwilling to face a world that doesn’t have you in it. They’ve lost you, their last chance to be the family they should have been, and they know now they’ll never be whole.

(A/n: no one asked and I also didn't but INSPIRED BY DIS IDEA FROM @steor-ra ILY BESTFRIEND BUT PLEASE UPDATE 💜👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩)

[celesteleoves]

hey! can you do headcanons on Bakugou and Izuku (separate) with a reader who's quiet and doesn't talk much but is Hella strong. How would they react to it? If you do thanks sm! it's really sweet of you!!!! :)

“SO SWEET, WITH A MEAN STREAK.”

KATSUKI BAKUGOU/IZUKU MIDORIYA x reader.

summary: your quiet strength intrigues these two boys, how would they react to you before/in a relationship?

warnings: none!!

a/n: this is such a cute ask!! i hope this is to your liking and if it isn’t and you think something is missing, let me know! this is also quiet short because i have a fever 😔

—

KATSUKI BAKUGOU —

before dating:

i can imagine him being a little skeptical of you, but so intrigued!

he’d definitely want to see how far your strength could go. so, bakugou would subtly challenge you during training sessions, pushing you to see your true capabilities.

he’d nevee admit it but he looks up to you in a way. you don’t boast and scream about your strength like he does - that makes him respect you. he would start to see your quiet nature as a sign of focus and determination rather than a sign of weakness.

he’s so competitive… it’s honestly a little scary. before you two were even close to being friends or anything more, he’d definitely get a competitive drive when it comes to you.

this idiot would definitely think he’s competing with you 24/7 even though you remind him you are not. he thinks doing this will make you become more outgoing and competitive.

“HA! i finished my bowl of ramen before you, loser, i won!”

“we were competing over that?” i’d be confused if i were you too… he’s a little slow but he’s got the spirit!

dating him:

once you two start dating, bakugou becomes fiercely protective of you, admiring your strength and determination even more. he thinks his role in the relationship is to protect you from anything that might make you lose your strength!

he’s so loud (we know that obviously) but with you, he’s loud in a supportive way. he’s now boasting about you and your strength instead of his own!

he encourages you to continue improving and growing, offering both praise and constructive criticism. even if you don’t need it, he’ll keep doing it anyway.

bakugo has never felt like he had a opponent that could really give him a run for his money, until you two train together.

training with him would be so so sweet. if he hit you too hard, he’d immediately worried if you didn’t tell him you were alright. (he won’t outwardly admit he’s worried about you but you know deep down he is!)

“are you bleeding? you shithead! i’m not worried... are youbleedingthoughbecauseifyouarethat’snotgood-”

“fuck, did i burn you? don’t start. i’m not worried about you at all, tch!” he says this as the tip of his ears are burning from lying…

he’d still work hard while training with you but still making sure he isn’t doing too much during simple sparring matches. he likes to learn from your strengths and weaknesses!

everyday is a day where you two grow together and bakugou is proud of you for simple improvements in your strength (you’re stronger than him lol and he knows you could take him down in a second!)

IZUKU MIDORIYA —

before dating:

Izuku notices your quiet demeanor but senses a strong presence and capability within you. he’d write about your strength and weaknesses in his hero notebook. he’d ask you so much questions (totally not to get to know you better… totally…)

“sorry- i’m not trying to be a bother but can you tell me more about your quirk! it’s so cool and you’re so strong!” he blushes immediately after rambling about how you’re so talented and your strength is admirable. meanwhile, your twirling your hair over the fact he thinks your strong!

one time, you caught him drawing out your hero suit and make little point notes about it. you went to your dorm and giggled about it for the rest of the day. it literally felt like a award to be in his hero notebook!

we all know izuku is his classmates biggest supporter, he is always wanting his classmates to grow alongside him and is pushing everyone to become the best hero they can be!

with you, he offers encouragement and support to you, believing in your potential and wanting you to believe in yourself as well.

because of your quiet nature, izuku might try and show his admiration for you in anyway he can. he admires your quiet determination, seeing it as a reflection of your inner strength and resolve.

basically, he’s your #1 fan!

you two initially work well together as teammates, with Izuku valuing your contributions and skills.

once you two start dating, it’s a whole different story!

dating him:

your relationship deepens Izuku’s admiration for your quiet strength, appreciating how you compliment each other. (everyone is class 1-A is still shocked at how well you two compliment each other, even before you guys were dating!)

izuku becomes a source of emotional support for you, understanding your quiet nature and providing comfort when needed. he never tries to push you outside of your comfort zone, enjoying your quiet times when his day has been stressful and filled with loud classmates.

you two continue to train together, pushing each other to improve and achieve your goals. you always tell him about how you want to grow your relationship by training and working hard together!(izuku almost cries when you tell him that, pls he loves you so much)

izuku and you build a strong foundation of trust and understanding, working towards your dreams together while supporting each other every step of the way.

he enjoys your company more than anyone else, not only are you strong physically but you are strong mentally. your words of encouragement and advice after a tough day of training always make him want to jump off the walls! you have that effect on him!

—

for both boys, whether before or after they start dating you, katsuki and izuku come to deeply appreciate your quiet strength and see it as an integral part of your relationship dynamics!

[flickering-chandelier]

My Pain Fits in the Palm of Your Freezing Hand

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader are mutually pining for each other, but they don’t know it. Reader has been feeling all kinds of insecure lately, and as soon as Azirel figures out what’s wrong, he’s determined to help her see just how amazing she is.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: body insecurities, a little angst

Word Count: 2.2k  

Azriel stared at the ceiling in the dark, his wings splayed out beneath him in his gigantic bed at the House of Wind.

His shadows danced around him, seemingly trying to coax him to sleep already, but he couldn’t. He hadn’t been able to for weeks. 

There was something going on with you, he could tell. You were being more distant than usual, quieter. Not just with him, but with all of your other friends, too. 

Attempting to push the worry aside, he instead replayed scenes in his mind of you smiling at him, leaning your shoulder against his, brushing your fingers with his. 

That had been the one thing that he couldn’t stop thinking about. You had never shied away from his scars, had never even looked at them for too long or asked questions. You had always touched him with your soft skin without any hesitation or reservations, right from the beginning.

Maybe he had fallen in love with you right then, that first time your hand brushed against his. He couldn’t be sure. 

It didn’t matter, though, not really. You clearly saw him as a friend. 

That was always the way, wasn’t it?

He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, his concern flooding through him once again.He wasn’t sure you had someone to talk to, someone that you could unload your worries on. 

Of course, he wanted to be that person for you. He just wasn’t sure how to get there. 

It was remarkable really, how he could be so entirely exhausted from the day, yet his mind wouldn’t cease whispering to him about you.

At this rate, he would be lucky if he got even an hour’s worth of sleep before the sun came up. 

---

Azriel looked like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. Again.

He was still the most beautiful man alive, obviously. But those bags under his eyes couldn’t lie to you as well as the shadowsinger himself could. 

And you knew it had been a lie when you had asked him if he was okay before Rhys’s inner circle meeting and he had offered you that crooked smile and reassured you that he was. Because Az only loses sleep when something is really bothering him. 

His eyes settled on you across the table as Rhysand and Cassian bickered about some matter in the mountains. You readjusted your dress, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything to actually conceal how uncomfortable you had been feeling in your own skin these days. 

It had been a nightmare getting dressed this morning, as it had been for weeks. Nothing about you had really changed, but recently you were having a more difficult time accepting that all of your dresses prominently showed your belly, the curves, and rolls that were not in flattering places. 

Azriel’s eyes tracked the movements of your hands smoothing down your dress and you felt even more self conscious. It was a great effort to stop squirming and keep your hands at your sides, forcing your gaze on Rhysand.

Out of everyone, why did Azriel have to be the observant one who would surely notice how frumpy the dress looked on your body, especially compared to the High Lady at the head of the table? Surely it would’ve been better to have a massive crush on Cassian, who hardly looked at what anyone was wearing unless it was something revealing. 

Azriel, though. Azriel noticed everything. 

The thought was like a pit of dread in your stomach. Surely he knew how you felt about him. 

It was embarrassing, really. The two of you had become pretty good friends over the last few years, after Rhysand had recruited you into his inner circle. 

But, the more you got to know him, the stronger your feelings became, the more you withdrew. You didn’t want to bother him or annoy with your feelings, with your insecurities, your past. He had enough to deal with on his own, and he didn’t need you pestering him. 

Without you even realizing it, the meeting had drawn to a close, and everyone was standing up, milling around before going about their day. 

Suddenly Azriel appeared at your side, so close that one of his shadows tickled your arm. “How are you?” he asked, his eyes boring into yours like he could see straight into your soul. 

“Good,” you couldn’t help but smile in his presence. 

His eyes narrowed slightly, and the side of his mouth twitched up into half a smile. “Liar,” he murmured. 

“Those damn shadows,” you scoffed. 

“I didn’t need the shadows to help me out with that one,” he said, tilting his head slightly as he studied your face. 

You felt your cheeks warm at his closeness, the intensity of his gaze. You needed to change the subject. Quickly. “How are you?” 

His smile grew slightly. “Good.”

“Liar,” you grinned, arching your eyebrow. 

He snorted before leveling his gaze on you again. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

You hesitated. “It’s… a lot. And it’s also a little dumb. All at the same time.”

“Sounds like you need someone to talk to,” he said quietly. As he said it, you could have sworn that you saw his fingers flex slightly, like they wanted to reach for you. 

“You don’t have to worry about my problems,” you said halfheartedly.

“I’ll be worrying about them whether or not you tell me,” he murmured. 

The way he was looking at you, the concern dancing in his eyes… it made your knees weak. It also seemed to have made your brain short circuit because that’s really the only thing that would actually explain the response that came out of your mouth. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

You followed Azriel upstairs, to a sitting room near the bedroom that he frequented in the House of Wind. 

You weren’t sure how you could possibly form the words in a way that would make sense to him, in a way that wouldn’t make you seem crazy or foolish. 

But, he had offered, and he really seemed to care. So you would try. For him, if not for yourself. 

---

You looked nervous as you settled into the armchair across from him, your hands wringing in your lap, your gaze landing anywhere but on Azriel. 

He couldn’t imagine what plagued you so, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make you feel okay again. 

“So,” you began, then clamped your mouth shut. Your eyes finally darted up, meeting his. “I don’t know how to explain any of it.”

Azriel couldn’t stop the quiet laugh that rushed out of him. “Do you want me to go first?”

That seemed to get your attention. You leaned forward, bracing your elbows on your knees. “Yes. Why do you look like you haven’t been sleeping?”

His brow furrowed in surprise. “You noticed that?”

You nodded, somewhat bashfully, your cheeks slightly pink. “I just -- I’ve been worried about you.”

Azriel’s heart did a somersault in his chest. His mouth tugged up into a smile. “I’ve been worried about you. That’s why I haven’t been sleeping.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

His expression softened as he gazed at you. “I care about you. When there’s something upsetting you, I tend to lose sleep,” he said gently. 

“You…” you began, but trailed off. Azriel could practically see the wheels turning in your brain. “You really care about me that much?”

Azriel blew out a breath. “Cauldron, you’re really going to make me spell it out, aren’t you?” 

Your brow furrowed in confusion, but you remained silent. 

“I love you,” he murmured, surprising even himself that he finally said it. “I’ve loved you for a long time.”

Azriel held his breath as he waited for your response. Finally, you said, “Why?”

That was not the response he had been hoping for. “What do you mean, why?”

You made an exasperated noise, seemingly unable to look at him. “I just don’t understand. I’m awkward and annoying and I look awful in all of my clothes, and no matter what I do, I can’t fix the parts of my body that I don’t like--”

Azriel ended up right in front of you without even realizing that he had moved. He took both of your hands in his. “Hey, stop for a minute,” he said gently, though the way you were talking about yourself had his blood practically boiling. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, you lifted your gaze to meet his. “You’re wrong,” he said simply, once your breathing had calmed. 

“What?” you choked out.

“You’re wrong,” he murmured, rubbing the backs of your knuckles with his scarred thumbs. “I can’t think of anybody less annoying than you. I always want to be around you. Always,” he smiled, leaning closer to you conspiratorially. “And you know what else?”

You stayed silent, your lips slightly parted. Heat rushed through his body as he leaned closer still, bringing his mouth to your ear. “You’re beautiful. Breathtaking, actually.”

That was when you took a step back, pulling your hands from his. Azriel’s heart sank. “You don’t have to do that,” you said sadly.

“You don’t believe me?” Azriel asked. He couldn’t understand it. Why couldn’t you see yourself the way that he saw you?

“I just… You don’t have to say all that to make me feel better,” you said. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but --”

“I’m not trying to be nice,” Azriel spat. 

Your eyes widened at the sudden outburst and he sighed, taking a step closer to you again. It was an effort to calm his voice, to not be frustrated with you for thinking that he could possibly make something like this up. “I’m not trying to be nice,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I’m telling you what I’ve been wanting to admit to you for years.”

When you remained silent, he knew he would have to prove it to you. 

He gently took your hand in his again. “Come with me?”

You hesitated for a moment, but then followed him without a word. He led you to his bedroom, where he stood behind you as you faced a large floor length mirror on the wall. 

“Oh gods, I do not want to do this,” you groaned.

“Just humor me, okay?” he said gently. 

You sighed, but squared your shoulders and looked pointedly into the mirror. Azriel couldn’t help the swell of pride that he felt at that. 

“I’m not sure what you see,” he murmured, dying to touch you, but keeping his hands to himself for the moment. “But I see a woman with the most stunning eyes,” you smiled slightly at that, your eyes crinkling around the corners. Azriel smiled, lightly curling a lock of your hair around his finger. “And the most beautiful hair. I’ve thought about running my hands through this hair about a million times.”

Azriel heard your breath hitch, and it took everything he had in him to not throw you onto the bed right then and there. Slowly, your eyes met his in the mirror. “And your smile?” His own smile grew at the thought. “Gods. I don’t even have words for your smile.”

He went on and on, his fingers lightly trailing down your sides as he revealed the truth to you, the truth of how long he had been watching you, how badly he had wanted you. 

“Don’t you see?” he finally asked quietly. “Don’t you see what I see?”

Slowly, you turned around to face him. “Thank you, Azriel. I believe you. I believe that it’s what you see. But…”

He arched an eyebrow. “But?”

“I’m too much work,” you said quietly. “I’m too much work to love. I’ve got too much baggage.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You think I don’t understand being insecure?” he says, holding his scarred hands up in front of him. “You think I don’t understand carrying the burden of the past?”

“But--”

“Do you think I’m too much work?” he asked. 

“No, of course not.”

He looked at you pointedly. “Listen to me. I love you. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true. And if you’ll let me, I’ll remind you every day how beautiful, smart, kind, and incredible you are.” He settled his hands on your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’re not too much. I’ll work every day for eternity for you. I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

A tear rolled down  your cheek as you looked up at him, and he gently wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. “I love you,” you choked out. 

Azriel couldn’t hold it back anymore. He kissed you softly, and you melted into him the moment his lips met yours. 

He held you close, cradling you to his chest, determined to be whatever you needed for as long as you would let him. 

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats @melmo567 @halibshepherd @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms @lilah-asteria @evergreenlark @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @andreperez11 @marina468

[brokenmenswhore]

not sure if you take fic requests BUT:

aegon getting woken up with head 🙏

i think this man would only accept head as his alarm 😭

this man would wake up, see you’re still asleep, and then lay there for HOURS with his eyes closed waiting for you to wake up so you can see his eyes closed and give him head to wake him

morning ritual | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targaryen x reader

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), oral (male receiving)

────── ☾ ──────

There was only one way Aegon accepted waking up.

The first time you tried it, you were nervous about overstepping. Your eyes fluttered open, a small stream of sunlight illuminating the bed, and better yet, Aegon. He looked ethereal when he was asleep, hair tousled, the top of his chest visible over the sheets.

You rolled over onto your stomach, your eyes tracing every contortion of his features: his hair, his eyes, his lips, his throat, his chest- the sheet was blocking everything else. So as not to wake him, you slowly moved the sheets lower and lower, admiring the flesh of his stomach before finally exposing him to the morning light.

Aegon never slept with any clothes on. After ruthlessly pounding into you every night, he would usually roll over and pass out, never caring about re-covering himself. He was comfortable with you, and he saw no point in covering up.

Lucky for you, it made the idea that popped into your head much easier to make a reality.

You slowly shifted down the bed, careful not to prematurely wake him, curling your body up onto your knees as you moved between his legs, leveling your head with his cock.

You took the muscle in one hand, holding it firm against your tongue as you licked a strip from the base of his cock to the tip, finally sinking your mouth onto as much as you could handle. He was big, but you were getting better and better at deepthroating him.

You began to move your head up and down, tasting every inch of him as you moved your hair to one side of your head, allowing you to continue unobstructed.

Aegon stirred lightly, the feeling slowly hitting him as he tossed and turned ever so slightly. You looked up at him, your need to make him feel good growing stronger and stronger as you watched him in his sleep, reacting genuinely to the feeling of your mouth around him.

You moved your hand up to cup his balls, squeezing gently to help coax him out of sleep.

Aegon whimpered, a feeling of arousal creeping between your legs at the sound. His breathing began to quicken a bit, his mouth falling open to allow for his sighs and whines.

You continued to bob your head, running your tongue over his tip to add to his pleasure as he finally blinked his eyes open, slowly looking down and meeting your gaze, finally aware of exactly what was happening. Once he saw you, he threw his head back, relaxing against the sheets as his hands found their way to the back of your head.

He didn’t have the energy to push your head down or to fuck up into your mouth, having just woken up, so he simply kept his hands on your hair to make it known he didn’t want you to stop as he let you continue to suck him on your own.

In his awakeness, his whining grew louder, not quite a moan but light little whimpers of your name or a string of curses anytime you ran your tongue over the slit at his tip or squeezed his balls particularly tightly.

Despite his closed eyes, you kept your gaze focused on him, watching him come undone from what you were doing to him. You loved to see your effect on him; he had been with countless women before, but he was never truly in love with one. Sex with you was different; you had more control over him, you truly cared enough to learn exactly what he liked and how he liked it. You knew how to make him come undone. He adored you more than anyone in his life, and he loved the feeling of your lips wrapped around him, drawing him closer and closer to his high the way no one else truly could.

Usually he would have to hold a woman’s head down and fuck their mouth, using them as a method to get himself off, but with you, he didn’t have to do a thing. He still sometimes would, of course, but simply knowing you were between his legs, eyes looking up at him, consumed in him, was enough.

His breathing quickened, his high approaching closer and closer. You picked up the pace, a large sigh leaving Aegon’s lips as he started to slowly lift his hips, using all his energy to help you make him come.

His clock twitched as his orgasm approached, a whimper of your name leaving his lips as his seed shot to the back of your throat, the feeling almost making you gag. The salty liquid spilled out, allowing you to suck his cock clean of it all, swallowing the load and sticking your tongue out to him to show you had taken it all, something he always asked you to do.

Aegon turned his head to look down at you, wiping the sweat-slicked hair from your forehead and tucking it behind your ear as he saw your tongue, cleaned of any orgasm remnants.

“Good job, angel,” he breathed, “what did I do to deserve such a wonderful wake-up call?”

Ever since then, Aegon has refused to get out of bed without spilling his seed down your throat.

You woke up first, like you had (at least appeared to) most mornings, to find him asleep, naked, and waiting. He often tried to fall asleep on his back with his legs open, a sure sign of eagerness for his usual good morning.

You rolled over, taking the familiar place between his thighs, your mouth kissing his tip before settling down on his length. Aegon immediately groaned, almost as if the second your lips touched him, his body ignited and he woke himself up enthusiastically.

“Shit,” he sighed, forcing his eyes open to watch you this time, your gaze meeting his and only making him crazy.

“I-I think I’ve started dreaming ab-bout this,” Aegon breathed, “almost makes me w-anna go to s-sleep.”

You lifted off of him for a moment, stroking him gently with your hand. “Anything for you, my king. I’m glad you like our morning ritual.”

“Like it?” he choked out, “I love it.”

You smiled in response, lowering your mouth down again, causing him to throw his head backwards and arch his back slightly, forcing his cock deeper into your mouth. The feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat made him feral, and he began to fuck your mouth.

Aegon was usually not very rough during your mornings; he did not have energy in the morning and was happy to feel the slow, sensual intimacy of your gesture. However, he went to sleep last night only so that he could awaken to your mouth on him, and his body was ready the second his head hit the pillow. The mornings were becoming one of the best parts of his days.

Aegon fisted his hands through your hair, holding you in place as he continued to lift his hips, focusing on ensuring that his cock hit your throat with every single thrust.

You started to gag, an involuntary noise leaving your mouth with each hit, only egging him on more and more. He loved to hear you; it only added to his arousal when he knew the noises you made were all for him, a pure reaction from your body to his.

His roughness was unusual for the mornings, and it drove you crazy. You couldn’t help yourself, you moved a hand between your legs and began to touch yourself, the feeling of Aegon fucking your throat combined with his pretty moans was too much for you to simply sit there and do nothing.

Aegon noticed your actions, a “fuck,” “you’re so fucking perfect, shit,” and “so fucking hot,” leaving his lips as he viciously thrusted up into your mouth, your eyes fighting to stay open and trained on him.

“I’m gonna- fuck,” he moaned, his back arching again as he came. You continued sucking, ensuring you pulled every last drop before swallowing and presenting him with your tongue.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered.

“Good morning to you, too,” you smiled.

Aegon gestured for you to hug him, your body pressed against his as your cheek rested on his chest. He kissed your temple, looking toward the window to see how much sunlight was out. “Can we just stay in bed forever?”

[heich0e]

you wake when you hear rustling.

it’s not that the noise is particularly loud, or even disturbing, it just so happens that it’s the thing that rouses you from your slumber.

“tobio?” you speak his name before your eyes are even open, calling out for him before you’re fully conscious. searching for him before you've properly greeted the day.

the rustling stops.

as the morning comes into focus, your gaze finds him standing at the other side of the bed, pulling on his running shorts with a pinched look on his face.

“i was trying to be quiet,” he murmurs softly, as though he’s disappointed. like he somehow failed.

“you were being quiet,” you placate him with a hum, stretching out in bed underneath the covers. your muscles twinge in a pleasant way. your body tender and tired from the night before. there’s a mark at the base of tobio’s throat which the collar of his navy blue hoodie doesn’t quite cover—a reminder on his body of just what had kept the two of you up so late the night before and left you so achy. you blink slowly as you watch him tie a double knot in the drawstring of his shorts. “what are you doing?”

his blue eyes peek over to you. “going for a run.”

you blink again, but this time it’s a bit more incredulous.

“what time is it?” 

“6:07,” tobio reads from the smartwatch on his wrist once he frees it from the cover of his sleeve.

“six am?” you repeat bewilderedly. “tobio, come back to bed. we only went to sleep a few hours ago.”

you push yourself up in bed and wince at the unexpected protest of your body. tobio is quickly dipping near, moving as you move, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep you from rising any higher from where you lay. “don’t do that, it’s too early.”

“it is too early,” you agree pointedly, emphasizing his own argument. “so come back to bed.”

“i have to go for my run,” he replies, a pinch of confusion settling upon his brow.

you huff indignantly. “tobio, i promise you got more than enough activity in last night.”

he purses his lips, but doesn’t otherwise seem swayed by your words. 

“well, if you insist on getting up then i’m getting up too,” you say when he doesn’t reply to your remark. 

“but you need to sleep,” tobio objects, his hand still gently keeping you down even as you press against it.

“if i need to sleep, then so do you,” you counter his point, reaching up to twist your fingers in the material of his sleeve.

“i have much better stamina than you do,” tobio reminds you. not in an unkind way—tobio has never said anything to you unkindly, even though his words may occasionally seem callous. it’s just the way he is. “i’m an olympic athlete.”

as though you could have possibly forgotten.

you roll your eyes and tug his sleeve. “i’m well aware of that, tobio. and i promise you that your fitness will not suffer from taking a single morning to sleep in with your girlfriend. come back to bed.”

tobio hesitates. 

because that’s another thing about tobio: he’s never unkind, and he never denies you anything.

“but i have to—“

“you can go for a run later,” you assure him, tilting your head to the side to rest your cheek against the hand he has on your shoulder as you bat your eyelashes at him. “come back to bed.”

“but i need cardio before—“ 

using your grip on his sleeve, you pull him further into bed until he’s kneeling upon it with both knees, holding himself up over you. he's stronger than you are, and bigger, but he moves willingly. he lets you pull him closer with no resistance or complaint. there’s a pretty pink blush that sits high on his cheeks as he stares down at you from this position, his eyes fixed intently to your face. you watch as they dip slightly to your lips when they curl in a smug little smirk.

“i may not be an olympic athlete, but if you insist on needing cardio, then maybe i can help with that.”

[introvertedelf]

Logan Howlett x Chubby!reader smut

Cause there’s not enough content like this. It’s hard out here for us chubby girlies.

I’m currently taking requests for Logan, so send ‘em in!

💛💛🖤💛💛🖤💛💛🖤💛💛🖤💛💛🖤

You and Logan were in his bedroom in the manor, passionately kissing as his hand slid up your shirt, wanting to take it off. You stopped him, taking hold of his wrist.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, concern in his brow.

You avoided making eye contact with him, staring down. “Nothing, can we just leave it on?”

He frowned, sitting you up and putting you on his lap. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you hurt?”

“No, Logan. Nothing like that, don’t worry,” you pleaded with him, trying to get up.

He was stronger than that, obviously. He took hold of your hip maybe a little harder than he intended to, sitting you back down on his knee. “C’mon. I know you better than that. What happened?”

He kept pushing. You knew he wouldn’t let up. So you unloaded on him. “Someone fucking said something about me . . . About my weight. I—“ you faltered, tears welling up in your eyes. “They made fun of you for being with a bigger girl like me.”

His grip tightened on you, and a dark aura began to surround him. “Who was it?”

You told him. He wouldn’t have accepted any other answer.

“I’ll be back. Stay here,” he said, kissing you on the forehead and leaving.

💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛

It didn’t take him long to get back, and when he did, he had blood on his knuckles and a sour expression on his face.

“Logan! What did you do?”

He wiped the blood from his knuckles with a towel. “What that sorry fucker deserved for talking about my girl like that.”

You didn’t need to ask more questions. His breathing slowed, and he finally came over to you, sitting beside you and pulling you into his lap once again.

“What, I’m not too heavy for you?” You said sarcastically, feeling awfully sorry for yourself.

Logan looked like you punched him in the face. “Y/N, baby don’t talk like that. I have never once thought of you as being a ‘bigger girl’. Even if you are, I fucking like it. I like being able to hold you and you feel soft against me. I like squeezing those thighs and that ass and watching them bounce when you walk. I like the way you fill out a pair of jeans like I could put a dime on that ass.”

You started blushing, hiding your face in his flannel. He took his fingers and brought your chin up to look at him. “You’re beautiful, darlin’. Always have been, always will be. And don’t you dare think about trying to ‘get the extra weight off’. I like you just how you are. Well, I love you, actually. Don’t change, doll.

You stared into his dreamy eyes, tears in your own threatening to fall. “I love you too, Logan. You’re the best,” you kiss him tenderly.

He puts his hand up under your shirt again, but you don’t pull him away now. You let him take it off. He stares at your bare stomach and cleavage, taking you in. Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, and you’re about to cover up again.

“So beautiful,” he says, laying you down on the bed as he begins to press tender kisses to your stomach, gently groping your breasts. “Don’t you dare ever try to cover up from me again. You hear me?”

You moaned lightly, the kissing beginning to make you wet. “Yes sir.”

“Good girl.” Fuck, if only he knew what saying that did to you.

He went down your middle, reaching your panties. He inhaled deeply, growling like an animal at your scent. “Smell so sweet, darlin’. Can’t wait to taste you.”

He had a bad habit of ripping your clothes, so he ripped your panties right down the middle so your wet cunt was exposed.

“Poor baby, you want it bad, don’t ya?” He spat on your pussy, hungrily licking it up and paying close attention to your swollen clit. “You taste just as sweet as you fucking smell, oh my god,” he groaned, eating you out sloppily like he’s always did.

He took his index finger, rubbing it between your lips before he slipped it inside of you, making a ‘come here’s motion as he effortlessly found your g-spot.

“Logannn, need more,” you moaned, bucking your hips.

He took his free hand and held your hips down, adding another finger inside of you. “What? You want my cock already? My fingers don’t make you feel good anymore?” He pumped harder, the entire bed shaking at the force of his administration.

“No! You do make me feel good, I just—I”

“You what, Y/N?” He went right back to your clit, sucking and tonguing it.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum—“

“Oh you are?” He said tauntingly. “I thought this wasn’t enough for you?” He said, adding a third finger. That did it for you.

Your orgasm came hurling down on you, making you scream so loud you worried others in the manor might hear you.

Logan had a knack for overstimulating you, so he kept sucking on your clit even after you came, making you go wild.

“Please! Logan please! I can’t take anymore!”

He chuckled deeply, giving your pussy a little slap before taking his cock out. He was more girth than length, and you felt like a virgin every time you took his dick.

“You want me, doll? You want me to pound that little pussy and show you just how sexy I think you are?”

“Yes sir, please! I need you so bad, Logan. Need your cock,” you spread your legs for him, inching your hips towards his cock.

“I know you do. Such a slutty little girl for me,” he mumbled, sliding his tip up and down your pussy to make him slip in nicely.

He inched his way in slowly, observing your facial expressions to make sure he wasn’t hurting you.

“You okay darlin’?” He asked, stopping for a moment when he noticed you took a sharp breath in.

You smiled, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in deeper.

“Fuck, sweetheart, so tight. Every time. It’s like your pussy was made for me,” he grunted when he bottomed out inside of you, his heavy balls resting against you.

He started his pace steady, groping your tits every once in a while and whispering sweet little nothings about how beautiful you are.

His thumb found your clit like it always did, rubbing smooth circles. That was the thing about Logan. He always put your pleasure before his.

Without warning, he flipped you over so you were on your hands and knees. It made you even tighter in that position, and he growled in your ear as he pressed his front against your back, holding you close to him.

He was fucking you faster now, balls slapping your clit on top of his fingers, beckoning you to cum for him.

“You like it when I fuck you like this, sweetheart? Like a fucking animal?” He slapped your ass, undoubtedly leaving a red handprint in its place.

“Yes sir! Please—oh’mgod I’m gonna cum, Logan please—“

His pace got harder, his thumb drawing faster circles. “Then cum for me, pretty girl. Cum on my fucking cock so I can pump you full.”

He always came inside of you. No matter what. He always said anywhere else would be a waste and his cum belonged inside of you.

The coil snapped, and you clenched down on him with a scream.

“God dammit, you’re squeezing me so hard, I’m gonna creampie that tight cunt.”

He kept his promise. He filled you up with a growl, holding your hips tight.

Deep, heavy breaths were shared between you two before he pulled you down on top of him, holding you close as he played with your hair.

“I mean it, sweetheart. You’re beautiful. Don’t ever change yourself. The way you are now is the Y/N I love.”

[starboye]

Kinktober Day 27

starring: homelander x male reader

request: sub!thicc femboy ftm reader x dom!homelander where reader is a supe in the seven who is stronger than all the heros and especially homelander but not strong enough in bed?? homelander finds reader in his apartment right in his room trying on the shortest skirts that shows his ass and pink high stockings, reader trys to explain before he gets his ass eaten and fucked raw until he cant breathe properly. i want some breeding kinks and alot of spanking, and ass worship if thats okay? i know ur busy but im just requesting this only if you have time, please and thank you.

warnings: smut, degradation, cursing, dub-con kinda, ass slapping, hair pulling, breeding kink, breathe play sorta, ass eating, fingering, rough sex, creampie, unprotected sex

being the strongest of the supes was a feat that you never lived down when it came to homelander, your looks were as everyone else would put it 'girly' but can they really say anything when you're more powerful the seven combined and shall we add better looking.

this was especially infuriating to homlander who always had the thought of you being better than him in the back of his head constantly,no one ever took him seriously with threats because they knew you were strong enough to kick his ass.

so what better way to resolve an issue than to show up at your apartment, he knocks at the door "who is it" you yell seemingly running to open the door "homelander" he sternly speaks "you know the rules john, no superhero name in my place" you say letting him in, once more like you always do you shoot him down.

whether that be during missions when you nab the bad guy just when he was about to or talk down on him on minuscule things, it made his blood boil with hatred for you "shoes off at the front door" you add walking back to your room, john silently mocking the way you said it before walking into your room.

he wasn't really shocked when he saw you trying on skirts, it's what you usually wore when not in your superhero suit but what did surprise him is when you try on the most dainty skirts that leave little to nothing to imagination, your ass pretty much spilling out of the bottom.

"what did you want" you ask turning around to look at him, he wasn't all there his mind flooding with what he wanted to do to you and being the psycho he is he acts on those thoughts, bending you over on your bed and ripping off you underwear but leaving the pretty skirt, he spits on his fingers and shove them in you, fingering you open to take his cock.

what first was strained grunts trying to break free from him are now turning into desperate moans loving the way his slender fingers fuck you "who would've thought the sevens strongest member could be so slutty" john teases you shoving his fingers deeper in your tight warmth.

"fuck you john" you say back before dropping your face into the bed and moaning out loudly, homelander slowly pulls his fingers out, strands of saliva following with it as he brings it to his mouth as sucks it off, just when you though he was done he pushes you back into the bed and leans down to your ass, his tongue invading it quickly.

he starts eating you out like a sundae, tongue prodding at every part of your gummy walls, you loved it to, your hands reaching out to grab a pillow and bring it to your face to let out all your dirty sounds, moans and whimper and all of it, john lays a harsh smack on your ass to get those pretty little sounds out again and it works, eliciting broken whines out of you more and more.

he moves from eating you out to nipping his teeth at your ass, sucking at it, or just slapping it continuously, by the end of it you ass is ruined in hickeys and bruises, some teeth marks here and there, he stands up and lowers his pants and underwear "don't worry i'll be done soon" he leans down to whisper in your ear, kissing you neck before leaning back up to then push his cock into you.

that big fucker was splitting your hole in two with how big he was, you were struggling to even choke back moans, john seeing you gives all your moans and sounds to the pillow angered him a little, snatching it from your arms to throw it off to the side and restraining your hands behind your back with his tough grip.

"go ahead moan my name like a fucking slut y/n" he pulls your head up from the bed by your hair to look at you, he was fucking into you so hard you couldn't even answer him let alone breath, your eyes flickering shut but john gets you back awake.

"hey look at me, look at me, this ass is all mine right, ill fuck it whenever and wherever right" he questions, his grips tight on your chin "mhm yes sir im... all yours to ruin" you croak feeling the wind get knocked out of your lungs with every thrust into your hole "m'gonna fill you up nice and good with my cum, hell maybe you can give me a new kid" he chuckle darkly, hand wrapping around your throat to keep you right up next to his face.

while his other hand keeps your ass in place with a firm grip on your hip, after the heavy fucking he cums in you, filling out your stomach to almost bursting, even after a minute or so you could still feel him cumming in you before he finally pulled out of your sloppy hole with a heavy and drawled out groan, releasing you from his dangerously tight grip.

"now who's the stronger supe" he asks lifting your weak head up to look at him "you sir" you weakly say "speak up" he orders "you homelander" you restate with little to no confidence left in you, at this point you were going to be nothing but his bitch.

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