#hi!! there was no way i was missing this so i came running back to tumblr so fast! i was just busy!!

[ellecdc]

the alchemy

prompt from @loca4moony: Hi! I've come with a prompt and a dream. Taylor Swift has a song called the Alchemy and says "where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me." I love the idea of Barty who plays Rugby/Quidditch and his team just won a really big competition but instead of going to the trophy he just runs to kiss/hug fem!reader (I'm okay with gender neutral too). Btw, I ADORE your Barty, I'm obsessed with him but your version is something else.

Barty Crouch Jr x fem!reader who is his treasure trophy [1.1k words]

CW: Barty's childhood and Barty Crouch Sr's A+ parenting, writer who has never once watched a rugby game does her fuckin' best, written with a fem!reader in mind though no pronouns used but gendered use of hero in "heroine" so I labelled it as fem!reader to be safe

Barty’s entire life had been a constant cycle of needing more, doing more, and never being enough. He needed more extracurriculars, needed more A-levels, needed more academic awards.

More, more, more. 

So he did; he did more extracurriculars, he took more A-levels (bloody well aced them too), and he won more academic awards. 

It was not enough. It was never enough. 

The ringing in his ears ceased and he registered the volume in the stadium again once he had the familiar weight of the ball in his arms, his body working off of muscle memory as he took off in a god honest sprint towards the tryzone. 

He had a ball cradled in his arms, he had two working legs, and he had a destination; that was what Barty was working with as he shoved one of his opponents out of his way. It wasn’t enough, he needed more; he needed to create more space.

Shoving one bloke out of his way left him with some breathing room, but he still had players on his heels and a fair distance to run. 

He needed more; more speed, more distance. 

He offed the ball to Rosier to his left as he deked around the player in front of him; barely missing the hands grabbing at him from behind as he heard another body hit the ground. Potter doing his job watching his back as he raced to keep up with Rosier.

His legs and lungs were burning but it was working, the goal line in his sights as he regained the ball after Rosier tossed it and an opponent fumbled it back over in Barty’s direction, and he urged his legs to carry on. His eyes darted to the scoreboard - 16 seconds left. It wasn’t enough, he needed more; he needed more time. 

But 14 seconds was also a lot of time, a lot could happen in 12 seconds; the other team could thwart his efforts, they could keep their three point lead, they could beat his team - beat him. 

The final 10 seconds of the final play of the final game of the playoffs - the Super League Trophy was currently in the stadium, waiting for the final whistle to sound before it made its appearance. 

6 seconds left, less than 22 meters to the goal line. The other team had a three point lead, but-

Barty hit the ground with a thud seconds before the whistle sounded, the ringing in his ears back in full force as any air that had been left in his lungs exited with a forceful whoosh. 

The air returned to him at the same time as other bodies did - teammates grabbing at him, patting him on the back, shrieking and hollering as the stadium erupted. Fans dressed in the team’s colours bouncing and shouting as the lights flashed and hugs were exchanged.

The clock had run out, they had won - Barty had won - with a two point lead. 

“Fuckin’ hell!” Potter shouted as he picked Barty up by the waist. “That was fuckin’ brilliant mate! Just bloody brilliant!” 

“We did it.” Barty whispered mostly to himself as his feet hit the ground again, though Fenwick hollered in agreement. “We fuckin’ did it! We won!” 

The team's mascot came sprinting out onto the field alongside the substitutes from the bench as cameras rushed out to capture it all.  

Barty’s entire life had been a constant cycle of needing more, doing more, and never being enough. 

But that wasn’t the case anymore.

He had aced his A-levels, he had amounted an abhorrent amount of scholarships to whatever school he pleased even though his father could more than afford to send him to university, he won so many academic records that he stopped bothering to try and display any of them; most of them lived in some sideboard that once belonged to his mother’s mother’s mother. 

He’d made a name for himself in rugby and went professional.

He met you.

His treasure.

“That was next level mate, I’ve never seen you run so bloody fast! What the fuck are you on?” Fenwick joked as he roughly jostled Barty by his shoulders. 

“Heroin.” Barty laughed airily, though he added an E to the end of that word in his mind as he started towards the stands.

“Oi! Mate! Where’re you going? The trophy’s this way!” Rosier tried calling after him, but it was no use; Barty didn’t listen.

Because his trophy was waiting for him in the stands. 

He momentarily spun on the spot as he tried to remember what side of the stadium you’d been sitting in when he spotted you waving - clearly aware that he’d been looking for you - as you stood with a beaming smile on your face.

He forced his aching legs to take off in another sprint as he made his way across the field where you were bundled up in a team sweatshirt with his jersey on top. 

“You did it!” You shrieked as he made it to you, but your name - whispered like a prayer - had barely fallen from his lips before he was reaching over the screens that divided the field from the stands to pull you into a bone crushing hug.

He was sweaty and filthy and covered in grass stains but he hoisted you up over the barrier and onto the field with him much to the chagrin of the stadium staff, allowing you to lean back far enough to take his face between both of your hands. 

“You bloody did it! You fucking won!” 

“I fucking won.” Barty agreed before pressing a searing kiss to your lips. 

His father had laughed at him when Barty told him he was pursuing a professional career in the sport; ‘you may have managed to be the best on campus, Bartemus, but there’s no point trying to be the greatest in the league. You’ll amount to nothing.’ 

“I fucking won.” He repeated as he held his forehead to yours, cradling the base of your skull so gently as though it was a holy relic. 

“I’m so proud of you, Bee.” You whispered with a breathy laugh as he noticed tears pooling along your waterline as your eyes turned glassy. 

He heard his team behind him, calling him over for pictures as they began shaking bottles of champagne and handing around celebratory necklaces in preparation for the cup to come out.

He simply kissed you again, hoisting you up and forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips as he all but tried to fuse both of your bodies together. 

“I fucking won.” He whispered again as he looked up at you. “I fucking won.”

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ sad girl ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ cho sang-woo x girlfriend!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! this story takes place in an alternate ending for squid game where sang-woo wins instead of gi-hun! there is also a part one to this story, million dollar man! 🤍

˚ ༘♡ one week had passed since your boyfriend, sang-woo, reappeared in your life under strange circumstances that made your blood run cold. for two agonizing weeks, he had vanished without explanation. then, he returned, battered and hollow-eyed, his face bearing scars that seemed etched not only into his skin but into his very soul. he had come to your door clutching a bag of cash, his body trembling, his clothes soaked with sweat. “wait for me,” he had whispered, his voice hoarse and desperate. you promised you would, and so you did.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t stop replaying that moment in your mind, every detail a puzzle you couldn’t solve. had he been involved in something criminal? was he tangled in debts or worse? the thought that he might be ensnared in something far beyond your understanding consumed you. the sight of him, standing there, so broken and afraid, haunted you. you didn’t want to believe he was in danger, but deep down, you couldn’t dismiss the fear.

˚ ༘♡ then, this morning, a text came through on your phone. it was brief, offering no answers, only an instruction, “come to my house.” no explanation, no reassurance, merely a summoning. the clock had barely struck six, but you didn’t hesitate. sleep clung to you as you threw on the white, wool coat he had gifted you months ago for your three-month anniversary.

˚ ༘♡ the streets were quiet, the morning air biting at your skin as you made your way to his home. every breath a battle against the anxiety clawing at your chest. when you reached his door, it swung open almost immediately.

˚ ༘♡ before you could say a word, he pulled you inside, his movements quick, the door closing behind you with a soft click. the air inside was warm, contrasting the chill outside, but it did little to ease the tension in your body.

˚ ༘♡ “you’re here,” he murmured, his voice low, and then his lips kissed your cheek, cool and brief, a gesture that was both familiar and foreign. the touch left your skin tingling, not with comfort but with unease. his eyes lingered on you, their usual sharpness dulled by something you couldn’t place, something sinister.

˚ ༘♡ you stepped back from him, your voice trembling but firm. “you have to tell me everything right now,” you demanded, though the weight of your exhaustion seeped into every word. the fear you’d carried for weeks had worn you down, leaving sorrow in its wake. “i can’t keep living like this, with all the secrecy and half-truths. it’s killing me.”

˚ ༘♡ as you glanced around, you noticed his home looked different, emptier than you remembered. furniture was missing, and stacks of boxes lined the walls, their presence unnerving. your eyes narrowed as you turned back to him. “are you moving? why didn’t you tell me anything?” your voice cracked with disbelief. then, anger surged, and you shoved his chest, your frustration spilling over. “this has to stop! you can’t keep throwing money and gifts at me, thinking it’ll distract me from everything you’re hiding!”

˚ ༘♡ his posture stiffened, his muscles taut under the pressure of your words. his jaw clenched tightly, and for a moment, he looked away, as though searching for the right response. when he spoke, his voice was strained, his frustration cutting through. “if you would only give me a chance!” he snapped, the sharpness of his tone filling the room. his chest heaved and fell rapidly as he struggled to compose himself.

˚ ༘♡ letting out a slow, deep breath, he rubbed his temple, his hand trembling slightly as he pulled off his glasses. without them, his eyes looked more vulnerable, the walls he so carefully built around himself momentarily exposed. “why can’t you trust me?” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with a mixture of anger and hurt. “why is it so hard for you to believe in me?”

˚ ༘♡ the scars on his face had faded slightly but still marred his handsome, angular features. your eyes lingered on them, the memories of his battered appearance resurfacing with a painful clarity. tears welled up, blurring your vision, and a tightness settled in your throat. “then tell me,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the truth he was about to share. “it was business dealings,” he began, his tone measured, “not illegal, but high-risk. it was meant to be a way to increase my earnings, and it worked. it was highly profitable and lucrative in the fiscal aspect. it was presented as a sound business opportunity.”

˚ ༘♡ you narrowed your gaze, suspicion flaring. “how much money are you talking about?”

˚ ༘♡ he hesitated for a moment before meeting your eyes. “forty-five billion six hundred million won,” he said, his expression unreadable.

˚ ༘♡ your breath hitched, your mind struggling to process the sheer enormity of the figure. “what?” you managed to choke out, your disbelief evident. “sang-woo, that kind of money doesn’t come without strings attached. it can’t be clean.”

˚ ༘♡ his jaw tightened, and he looked at you with an intensity that made your stomach churn. “do you trust me enough to believe it is?”

˚ ༘♡ you faltered, the strength of his question bearing down on you. he wasn’t explaining, he was testing your loyalty, your ability to have faith in him despite the glaring inconsistencies. deep down, doubt clawed at you, but your love for him, flawed and reckless as it was, overpowered your reservations. “i trust you,” you murmured, guilt creeping into your voice. “i’m sorry for questioning you.”

˚ ༘♡ he nodded, the tension in his frame easing slightly, though his gaze remained guarded. “the investment fund ended a few weeks ago,” he continued, his tone darker now. “it got messy, very messy.” his bruised hand lifted, gesturing to the faint scars on his face. “this… was the price of my involvement.”

˚ ༘♡ the word lingered between you, heavy and suffocating. you stared at him, the weight of his choices crashing down on you like an unbearable tide. “why didn’t you tell me?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “don’t you know I would have stood by you? no matter what?”

˚ ༘♡ his eyes darkened, and his voice rose intensely, startling you. “because I didn’t want to drag you into my problems!” he shouted, the force of his words filling the room and making you flinch. the reaction caught him off guard, his frustration fading as he noticed the fear on your pallid face. he let out a deep sigh, running his hand through his disheveled hair before pacing the length of the room. when he returned, his expression softened, and he cupped your face gently, his touch warm despite the tension. “i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with regret. “i didn’t mean to scare you. i’m sorry.”

˚ ༘♡ you had hoped that hearing the truth would make things easier, that it would bring the clarity you craved. but instead, it felt as though the distance between you had grown wider. “sang-woo,” you said softly, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions, “i don’t care what you’ve done or what happened. i only want to know that you’re safe, that we’ll be okay.” tears spilled freely down your pale cheeks, salty streaks marking the anguish you couldn’t hide.

˚ ༘♡ his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. your head rested against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you in a way his words couldn’t. his hand moved slowly along your back, a comforting motion that was far different than the turmoil brewing within you. “everything will be fine,” he whispered, his tone firm yet almost pleading. “i promise, it’ll all be fine.”

˚ ༘♡ despite his reassurance, you couldn’t shake the knot of unease in your stomach. his words might have been meant to comfort, but they felt fragile, as though they could shatter under the weight of whatever truths still remained hidden.

˚ ༘♡ “i love you,” he murmured, his hand gently tilting your chin until your eyes met his. his gaze was steady, filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. “i want to spend my life with you. to get married, have a family…”

˚ ༘♡ a shaky laugh escaped through your tears, a fragile moment of relief breaking through the tension. “alright,” you said softly, wiping at your damp cheeks. “let’s start with something simple. how about we go get something to eat?” your fingers brushed against his tired, weathered face, tracing the lines of exhaustion etched into his features. “you look like you haven’t had a decent meal in days,” you added with a small smile.

˚ ༘♡ sang woo’s lips curved upward, faint but genuine. “that sounds good,” he replied, his voice carrying a gentleness that was almost unfamiliar after everything.

a/n: i thought sang-woo wouldn’t tell his girlfriend about the squid game, with how concerned he is with maintaining a perfect reputation. let me know if you have any other requests! 🤍

[pholla-jm]

Meet My Wife

IMAGINE: MEET MY WIFE~ LUFFY X F!READER GENRE: FLUFF warnings: f!reader implied. not proof read. slight cursing ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luffy seemed more excited than usual. I mean, he’s always bouncing off the wall. But it was like he was expecting something and he couldn’t wait for it. 

“What do you think he’s excited about?” Chopper asks Nami.” She just sighs and waves her hand around, “knowing him. He’s probably excited about food.” 

Little did they know, they were about to be in a world of shock. 

Luffy did not waste a single second jumping off the boat as soon as it docked. He continued to run straight into town, like he knew exactly where he was going. 

The rest of the crew just watched him, some in confusion and some of them looked exhausted. Sanji sighs, taking a deep breath of his cigarette. “He’s most likely going to cause trouble.” Nami sighs, already feeling a headache form because of her idiot captain. 

However, it wasn’t food or a new adventure that got him this excited. No, it was someone who was very important to him. He remembered the instructions very clearly. He couldn’t forget it. Just follow the path, there are going to be white flowers along the path. It should lead all the way down to a small house with flowers and different plants all around the place. 

His eyes grew wide seeing the variety of plants and flowers, knowing that you had planted these yourself. The door opens and a large smile covers his face. 

“(y/n)!” He shouts, grabbing your attention. He ran at you, full force and it looked like he wasn’t going to stop. You drop the empty basket you were carrying, fully prepared for him to throw himself onto you. 

And you were right. His body crashes into you. His arms and legs wrapping around you, and he nuzzles his face into your cheek. The first thing he notices is how soft your skin feels against him. The second thing he notices is how sweet you smell. You smelled like fresh laundry, but with a hint of something sweet, like you were just baking. 

“Luffy.” You softly say with a smile on your face. “I didn’t know you were going to be here so soon… I missed you.” You whisper the last part. “I missed you too.” Lufffy pulls back, letting you go a bit. “Are you making something?” He asks. 

You nod your head, “yes. It’s actually almost done. Would you like to try some?” He immediately nods his head yes and you laugh. “I don’t know why I asked. Of course you would. Come inside.” 

He completely lets you go now, and you pick up the empty basket heading back inside. 

The sweet scent is stronger and Luffy basically salivates at the smell. You grab a cloth, pulling out the fresh strawberries and cream croissants. There were only a few, since you weren’t expecting company. 

“Careful, they’re hot.” You say but he doesn’t care. He’s already stuffing his mouth with a croissant. 

His eyes widen and there’s a smile on his face. “They're so good!” He says while grabbing another one. You laugh, “wait. Save one for me.” You grab the last one, taking a bite of it. You were glad how good they came out. 

Once he scarfs down the second croissant, he looks at you and clears his throat. “You should meet my crew!” He says like it was another Tuesday.  

Your eyes widen. “Really?” You ask and he nods his head. “Of course!” You suddenly got nervous and wondered what his crew was like. They had to be nice, right? Luffy only accepted the best of the best. So what would they think of you?

“Like right now?” 

Luffy stands up, “yeah!” He grabs onto your arm and drags you out of the small house. 

“W-wait! Wait! Let me at least clean myself up.” You try to tell him but it falls upon deaf ears. 

You were now leaving your property, and Luffy must've thought you were moving too slow because he suddenly picks you up bridal style. His arms securely wrapped underneath your legs and the other one supporting your back. 

You let out a small gasp, surprised at the action. It had you a bit flustered as he ran back to what you could assume was his ship. 

He was running for about five minutes until the both of you arrived at the port. Multiple ships lined up on the dock, but there was one that stood out to you. A ship with a sheep head. It was… cute. 

You could see people walking on the ship, minding their own business. Until they spot their captain holding some girl. 

The redhead girl gasps, gaining the attention of the other crewmates. 

“Holy shit, Luffy! Did you kidnap someone?!” Nami shouts, a bit horrified. 

Luffy just laughs as he jumps onto the ship, causing you to let out a short yelp at the unexpected height change. 

“No,” Luffy laughs while placing you down, “I want you to meet my wife.” He announces causing everyone on the ship to gasp. Your eyes widened and your cheeks warmed up at his announcement. There was no way he still thinks that the wedding was real…

“What?!” A blonde male shrieks, “you’re telling me that this idiot right here is actually married.” “Yup!” Luffy says with a proud smile on his face and his fists on his hips. “No, I don’t believe it.” Another male says while shaking his head. 

“Well believe it. We kissed and everything. It was official.” He says, causing you to cover your face in embarrassment. You had no idea that Luffy was going to introduce you like this. 

The blonde male cries out, shouting how unfair the universe was. 

“(y/n).” Luffy says while grabbing onto your wrist. He pulls you forward, “I want you to meet my crew!” 

He points at the blonde, “that’s Sanji, our cook.” He then points at the woman, “Nami, our navigator.” He then points at the curly headed man, “Usopp, aaaaand,” he points at the sleeping man with green hair, “Zoro.” 

“Everyone, this is (y/n). My wife!” He pulls you again. This time you were pressed up against him. You honestly felt like you were on fire. 

You wondered how strange this must've looked for them. And you honestly wanted to clear things up.

“B-but Luffy.” You whisper, gaining his attention. “We got married as kids. Kids, Lu.” You emphasize the words kid, hoping that he would get the hint. 

“Oh, yeah.” He says like he almost forgot something important, “I have these.” He pulls out two rings. The same poorly made rings that were made as kids. 

You grab one of the rings, feeling the familiar flutter in your heart. Luffy smiles, “I think they’re too small now. But that’s okay. We can make new ones.” 

A blush dusts your cheeks. It was really sweet that he still considers you his wife. “Yeah… that actually sounds really nice.” 

“Shishishi, I knew you would like that.”

Well... maybe things didn't have to be cleared up right away. Let the crew think the strange things.

[dixons-sunshine]

To The Place I Belong | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: The world could be cruel. Especially now, as dangers lurked behind every corner in the forms of both the dead and the living. However, despite all of that, Daryl found his solace in the two people he loved most—you and your daughter.

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1k.

A/N: Requested—or well, a spark of inspiration given by— @holdmytesseract. I hope you like this, my love!

The chilling wind blew through Daryl’s hair as he looked out the window of the truck. Rick was driving the vehicle, the former sheriff’s deputy silent as he focused on getting them both home safely. The gates of Alexandria loomed closer, the promise of safety, of security, a mere few yards away.

You and Hazel were almost within reach.

The vehicle soon came to a stop within the gated community. The sun had just begun its slow descent into the horizon, the ball of flames disappearing behind the mountains. Daryl and Rick both simply left all the supplies on the truck and took different paths to their own homes, the found brothers both silently agreeing that sorting through everything and taking things back to the pantry could wait until the morning. Although Daryl usually would have taken on the task himself and worked late into the night to finish it, he could not be bothered to do so that night. It could indeed wait until the next day.

Daryl’s boots made dull thuds against the pavement as he made his way towards the all too familiar porch. He carefully climbed the few steps that lead up to the front door, and slowly turned the doorknob that would lead him to his own private sanctuary, his escape from the horrors of the world run by the undead.

The crossbow-wielding archer was instantly greeted with the amazing aroma of freshly cooked stew. It made his stomach rumble, making him aware of the fact that he had not eaten anything that day. He had slipped from the bed at the crack of dawn when the house was completely silent. You had still been asleep when he had left for the planned scavenging trip with Rick, your baby girl also still deep within the realms of slumber in her crib in her nursery, dreaming of whatever babies dreamt about.

Daryl smiled his signature half smile when he approached the kitchen and saw what you were up to. You were humming to yourself as you went about tidying up the space, your efficiency being hindered by the fact that you held Hazel in your embrace as well. However, as you had said many times before, it did not bother you. You loved your little munchkin with all of your heart. A little more time spent on cleaning meant nothing in comparison to the love you held for your daughter.

“Somethin’ smells amazin’,” Daryl spoke up after a good twenty seconds of simply observing you.

You spun around at the sound of your husband’s voice, a loving smile gracing your features. “You’re back.” You laughed lightly when Hazel eagerly wriggled around in your arms, her babbles incoherent but clearly getting her point across—she wanted her dad. “Looks like someone missed you.”

Your husband smiled and stepped forward, plucking Hazel from your arms and gently holding her against him. “Hey, babygirl,” he cooed to her softly. “Did ya miss me?” All Daryl got in response was a little adorable giggle. “Well, I certainly missed you, Hazelnut. You ‘n your mama.”

“And we missed you,” you voiced softly, stepping up to stand beside Daryl. You reached out and stroked Hazel’s head tenderly, still in awe—even all those months later—by the fact that you had created such a beautiful human being with the man you loved so much. “We missed you so much.”

Daryl’s heart fluttered in his chest. “Yeah?” he asked rhetorically.

You nodded nonetheless. “Yeah. You were gone for far too long. Isn’t that right, Baby?” Your lips twitched up at the coo you got in response from Hazel. “You should probably just forget all your responsibilities and spend all your time here with us.”

“S’that right?” Daryl asked, turning his head to press a soft kiss to your temple. “’Cause I ain’t against that plan at all. Y’sure you can handle me twenty-four seven?”

You laughed and nodded. “I’m sure a couple more hours of you everyday won’t kill me,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with yours.

Daryl simply chuckled and shook his head. “Well, when ya put it like that, how m’I s’posed to say no?”

“You can’t,” you began playfully. “You can try to decline, but your attempts will be futile. It will be met with resistance in the form of kisses and baby cuddles.”

“Oh, god. Please no. Not the baby cuddles,” Daryl gasped in mock fear. “How s’anyone s’posed to survive the baby cuddles? M’doomed.” He tickled Hazel’s stomach, laughing with her when she squealed happily.

Your heart swelled with love as you watched the two people you loved most. Daryl had come so far. He had grown from that man you had first met at the quarry to he one you got to see now every day. The one you got to love and cherish. The one you got to call your husband.

You smiled softly when Hazel let out a big yawn and lowered her head to rest against Daryl’s shoulder. “I think it’s time we get her to bed,” you said, placing a gentle hand on your archer’s arm.

Daryl shared a look with you, one that voiced more than words ever could. “Alright.”

You both worked together to put your little girl to bed. It was relatively easy to do. One lullaby with some gentle rocking and she was out like a light. You watched as Daryl slowly and carefully lowered Hazel into her crib, before lowering himself down to press one final kiss to her forehead. It was a sweet gesture, one that spoke volumes of his love for the tiny human being that rested within the crib.

You quietly closed the door behind you when you and Daryl left the nursery. Daryl opened his mouth to say something, but it was cut off by the unexpected feeling of your arms wrapping around him. He easily returned the gesture, holding you tightly against him.

“I missed you,” you spoke up, your voice muddled as you nuzzled your face into his chest.

Daryl smiled. “Missed ya too, Sweetheart.” And he meant that. Despite only being apart for a few hours, he had missed you. He had missed Hazel. He had missed his little family. After years of wandering around and wondering where he fit in, he had found it. He had finally found the place where he belongs. His home.

You.

[emiquety]

Feral reader on her period?

Satoru Gojo x Reader

I know I should be working on my extremely overdue kinktober prompts but I've been so unimaginably horny today (on my period </3) and can't help but imagine pouncing on a jjk man and riding him till he whimpers.

warnings/content: 18+, MDNI, implied chubby!reader, fem!reader, period sex, blood, oral (m!receiving), very messy, riding, no protection (no lube either fr), creampie, male whimpering, lowkey highkey manhandling (reader), and au where suguru is also a teacher at jjt

word count: 1.3k

Enjoy!!!!!!!!!

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Imagine bf!satoru who sent his pretty girlfriend a picture earlier that day of a wound he got while on a mission with Suguru (they were arguing and had his infinity off to get in suguru's face). Satoru completely forgot you were on day 2 of your period, so he obliviously sent you a picture of his bare torso after exorcising the curse, waiting to heal completely so you could see the nasty hot scar it would've left.

bf!satoru who was a little sad when you only left him on read, whining to Suguru about how "she must be mad at me:(" and Suguru would only roll his eyes and say "she probably forgot to hit send again, you're fine, Satoru."

Little did he know, you were still staring at the photo he had sent. Why are his tits so big and perky? Your mouth beginning to water slightly as you stared. Fuck, I wanna bite them so bad. Heat began to pool in your aching abdomen, your already wet folds leaking with blood and arousal. You quickly took off your sweatpants, taking off the heating pad, and running to to the bathroom for a few more pain killers to prepare for when Satoru comes home.

bf!satoru who came home with pretty pink and white tulips, a bag full of groceries for the week (He offered to make dinner tonight previously- plus his first years would be over for dinner tomorrow night after you heard how good Yuji was at cooking and invited him to join you and cook together... and you missed little Megumi- and really wanted to meet Nobara after hearing Satoru had another female student), and another bag full of your favorite snacks (He is soooo trying to apologize for whatever he might've done to upset you.)

bf!satoru who didn't stand a chance even have a second to prepare before you slammed his back against the front door, pressing your lips harshly against his as your hands roamed all over his body. Moaning against his lips as you drag his waist closer to you.

bf!satoru who was panting when you pulled away, a flush of red on his cheeks as he stared down at you behind his blindfold- that sat their for two seconds before you ripped it off to look into his half lidded eyes. You kept your gaze locked on his as you sunk to your knees, quickly undoing his pants and lowering his boxers enough until his semi-hard cock sprung free.

bf!satoru who couldn't hold back a gutted moan or keep his head straight up as you kissed his tip before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and sunk your head all the way down to the base of his shaft. Bobbing your head up and down as he continued to grow in your mouth.

bf!satoru who dropped the grocery bags and almost dropping your flowers before tightening his grip on them (he didn't want to ruin them). He used his free hand to pull hair from your face, moaning once again as he watched you take his cock in and out of your mouth.

bf!satoru who takes pride in his stamina. Being the strongest of the jujutsu world and in the confines of your home who am I kidding, it's anywhere with a sliver of privacy as the two of you make love. Except he didn't last long this time, cumming down your throat after maybe a minute and a half.

Pulling off bf!satoru's cock with a small pop and opening your mouth to show that you swallowed all his semen like a good girl <3 before standing once again, holding on to his slowly softening dick and leading him to the living room.

Throwing bf!satoru on the couch before pulling his pants completely off and forcibly taking his shirt off the fabric catching on his chin slightly but he's still too dazed from the sudden bj to even wince at it. Growling- growling- before straddling his lap, making sure to grind against his hardening cock so it rubs against your aching clit through the fabric of your underwear and the pad you were wearing.

bf!satoru who yelps when your teeth dig into the flesh of his left pec, skin vibrating as you moan against the fat of his chest. Making sure to leave a mark before moving to the other side and leaving another bite mark on his bulky chest.

bf!satoru who twitches against your clothed pussy as you growl "Mine." while starting to bite and suck on his neck. His hands trembling against the fat of your thighs, barely covering half of it with his enormous fingers as he whimpers underneath you. Slowly his hand slides up your leg, pulling at your panties and letting them go to slap against your skin.

bf!satoru who can't help but think I'll just buy a new pair as he rips off your panties, throwing them off to the side of the room completely ignoring the pad that could get blood on the floor. Slipping his cock though your entrance with a whimper as he feels how het you are.

bf!satoru who learns he likes loves period sex... Loves how wet and warm your insides are as you bounce up and down his cock, growling down at him like he's just a piece of meat for you to devour. Loves how rough you're being with him- taking exactly what you want. Loves how your tits managed to get bigger- firmer- as his right hand gropes your left breast while the other bounces with the rest of your body.

bf!satoru who moans and whines against your lips as you force him into another searing kiss. Gasping as you slam your hips down and start grinding your g-spot against the head of his sensitive cock, watching you as your head falls back with a guttural moan from the pleasure against the bundle of nerves within your walls.

Cumming around your boyfriend's dick as he spurts long threads of semen into you. Your nails digging into his shoulders as you continue grinding against him, the white red tinted pubic hairs tickling your clit as you move.

bf!satoru who grips your love handles as he pants your name out, his head falling as he presses kisses on to your wrist. A shuddered whine escapes him as he lift his head to meet eyes with you, your hungry stare sending a twitch to his slowly softening cock. Watching as your pupils dilate back and forth before a growl leaves your throat once again as you swiftly stand, firmly grabbing his bulky bicep and lead him to the kitchen.

Bending over and pressing your breasts against the cool marble of the kitchen island as you present your pussy to him. bf!satoru watching the mixture of fluids leaking from your hole as you wiggle your hips side to side, trying to entice him into round two already.

An audible gulp leaving bf!satoru's throat as he finally steps forward, placing a hand on your ass as he softly squeezes the fat. "Put it in, Satoru." You grumble back to the white haired man as he lifts his eyes to meet your glare.

______________________________________________________________

bf!satoru who open his phone hours later completely drained of semen after multiple rounds with his beautiful angel to see a text from Suguru saying, "She forget to hit send like I said?"

bf!satoru who types a quick response before setting his phone down once again as he wraps his arms around you once more. A hand softly scratching at your scalp while the other rubs soothing circles on your back as you lay on his chest, sleeping peacefully,

"HOLY GUACOMOLY SUGURU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! get ready to go suit shopping with me, because i am sooooooooooooooo marrying her"

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Currently 1:36 on Jan 2nd, im so tired and have work tomorrow </3

lmk if you guys like this writing style, because I personally love reading them, but I know it's not everyone's cup of tea. Kinktober prompts slowly coming out, next up is breeding kink with Nanami (My bsf's fav)

I'm trying to keep my pwp writings, but gosh was it so much easier to write straight smut. Anyways, likes, comments, reblogs always appreciated and loved. Happy new years, babes!!!!!

[brairslair]

Hii! I hope you've had a great day so far, could i request a trafalger law × fem!reader who's like super horny all the time and just begs for law's attention and his cock all the time? Do what you want with the request, I just want this to be the basic premise, also i would like a friends with benenfits relationship kinda thing, but they do like eachother but just arent together yet!

Thank you, and have a great day! Please remember to take breaks, don't rush yourself and to take care of yourself!

@kyokikia thank you so much for this request ml! so sorry for the actual insane wait 🙏🏻

EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors gtfo)

a/n: idk why i struggled so much with this prompt, but i think i got something kind of coherent? definitely not my best work and a lil short, but hopefully you enjoy reading what i came up with!

don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, and follow to support my work! it always makes my day mwah

“made me wait enough”

Your mouth waters as you watch Law lean back in his seat, legs spread, head thrown back in a frustrated groan. His hands drag down his face and a sliver of skin peaks out from where his shirt rides up, and you almost moan. Your fingers buzz with the desire to touch him.

It’s been torture all week. Law’s been absolutely drowning in work, to the point where he’s been sleeping through the nights in his office chair instead of his bed.

Usually, you were admittedly pretty needy; something Law liked to tease you for. Constantly running your mouth, begging for him to give you a drop of his attention, to take care of you and ease the ache that seems to always be present when he’s around. It’s absolutely agonizing to give him space, but you’ve always respected his work ethic and ambition, and would never want to get in his way.

However, he’s been making it inexplicably difficult for you to keep to yourself. He’s barely said a word to you or the rest of the crew that wasn’t a captain’s order. You’re starting to feel actual physical pain from the distance.

You’re used to spending much more time with him, having been best friends for the better part of the last four years. If anyone has the right to be frustrated with his absence, it’s you.

You miss talking to him.

You miss his company.

You miss the way he looks at you when you cling to him.

You miss the way his hands feel when he touches you.

Your legs discreetly press together where you stand, hovering at the entrance to his office, mug of hot coffee in hand.

Coffee usually helps stoke the flames when his energy starts to dwindle, so you figured you would bring him the much needed pick-me-up before you make your way to bed. Alone.

You didn’t factor in how difficult it would be to keep yourself from jumping his bones.

Seemingly unaware of your ogling, you clear your throat to make yourself known before stepping in, setting the steaming mug on his desk.

“Thought you could use it.” You smile awkwardly, trying to conceal the filthy thoughts swirling in your head while he looks up at you through half lidded eyes. You could strangle him for making this so difficult.

He glances at the mug, then back at you, muttering a soft “Thank you.”

He looks mesmerizing when he’s tired. Hazy, far off, and soft around the edges. Your chest is aching and your throat burns with hidden desires clawing their way up your throat.

“Is there anything else you need, Captain? I’m heading to bed.” You mutter softly, praying he’ll take the hint and decide to join you.

His eyebrows twitch but he simply shakes his head, “This should do.”

His eyes burn through to your soul.

Usually you would have caved long ago, whining and begging for him to let you touch him, to take care of you the way he knew you needed it, but you wouldn't cave this time. You needed to remind yourself that he's an important man with important duties to attend to, and you would rather suffer than hold him back.

Instead, you force out a curt “Goodnight”, turning on your heels before the dam breaks and you start babbling nonsense.

Before you can take a step towards the door, you’re halted by a gentle hand around your wrist. The touch makes you shudder, biting back a whine. You missed his hands.

“You’ve been different.” Law states quietly, though you know it’s meant to be a question.

You can’t allow yourself to look at him yet. You know you’ll cave.

“You’ve been busy.”

Law hums in understanding and disappointment, gently tugging your arm to face him. Your legs feel like jelly under his gaze.

The longer he looks at you, the more aware you are of how dry your mouth is suddenly, how your stomach feels tight with restraint, and how he’s looking at you like he can read your every thought.

Law soothes his thumb along your pulse, stopping to feel your heart race beneath his fingertip. His sharp smile twists into your gut.

It fascinates you, the patience and temperment Law expresses so easily, things you’ve never been able to harness.

With a shaky sigh, you finally let go of your tongue, unable to hold back any longer.

“Please, Law? I need you.”

His hands are on you in an instant, smoothing over your curves like butter as he pulls you to straddle his hips. The second his lips touch yours, you can’t stop yourself from pulling and twisting at his shirt, seconds away from ripping it to shreds. Needy whines flow freely as you desperately rock your hips.

Law rubs a calming hand against your back, and you can feel the corners of his lips twitch with a smile against yours.

He teasingly nips at your bottom lip, and is pleased at the lewd noise it draws from your throat.

“There she is.” He grins, and you groan when he pulls away to trail down your neck. His fingers dance under your shirt, leaving goosebumps up your back as he makes work to unclasp your bra.

Your skin feels like it’s on fire, melting into him like molten lava. Every touch sends your brain into overdrive, and you need to feel more.

“Please, Law, don’t tease me.” You whine, hips stuttering, struggling to keep up with your head, “I’ve been so patient. I didn’t wanna disturb your work, but I can’t help it.”

You ramble into his ear, already barely coherent and digging your nails into his shoulders to steel yourself.

You press yourself against his chest, kissing and licking at his jaw, “I’ve missed you.”

Law cradles your cheek to sweetly kiss the corner of your mouth, dotting a feather light trail across your cheek. It’s his way of saying “I missed you too. I’m sorry.”

Your hand trails down to the zipper of his pants, but he stops you, pulling your wrist to his lips before placing it back on his shoulder. You protest as tears start to dot at your lash line.

“Let me feel you. I need to feel you.” You’re begging now, trembling against him as your patience dwindles. “I need you so bad it hurts.”

Law kisses you softly, like an anchor pulling you back down to him, grounding you. He tugs at your shirt in a silent order, and you pull away only to throw it carelessly on the floor beside you, along with your bra.

His cold hands immediately trail your exposed skin, not leaving an inch untouched. You’re practically limp against him at this point, overwhelmed and sobbing into his chest.

“Just fuck me already, made me wait enough.” You plead, tugging at his hair as you whisper filth in his ear, “Need your cock, Law, so bad. Please.”

A groan rumbles in his chest at your words, twitching in his pants. His fingers press into the fat of your hips, slowing your rocking motion to a slow rumble, rolling your clothed core against the tent in his jeans at an agonizingly perfect pace. His eyes darken when you gasp and whimper, already crumbling in his hands.

“Cum for me like this and I’ll give you anything you want.”

asks are open!

[uracutieraka]

When did you get so pretty

Pt. 1 // Pt. 2

Keigo x Younger!f!reader

SMUT!, yearning, dirty talk, needy!hawks

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

synopsis: You've missed Hawks the past few weeks. But you don't know if he's even missed you. Why has he been borderline ignoring you?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The night after the gala, Hawks had to leave early in the morning.

Hero work and what-not.

You weren't unfamiliar with him getting so busy you only see him in passing at the agency, but you were unfamiliar with these past few weeks behaviors.

Hawks had been distant.

Unable to hold eye contact with you, nor a conversation even.

Anytime you tried to talk to him it had seemed he would get a phone call and have to fly off somewhere.

You had grown bored of being alone in your apartment. At your life. Being single.

You had gotten a sweet, sweet taste of what it was like to be in love and now you just couldn't seem to feed your insatiable cravings for it.

You literally had the hawks begging for you.

What are you supposed to do with yourself after a high like that?

Go back to normal? Hell no.

On the other hand, Hawks was your boss, and close friend.

Maybe he regretted it?

He was drunk after all.

Maybe he changed his mind about not caring what people would think.

After all he had a reputation to uphold.

You had been in your room for hours, overthinking every interaction you'd had with him since that night.

A loud buzzing broke you from your thoughts.

You grab your phone off your desk and pick it up.

'Hey' a quick but simple word had your breath caught in your chest.

'Hey' you finally huffed out.

'Can you come to the office? I have some paperwork I need help with,'

you felt kind of disappointed with his mindless nature of the things he says.

'And, I hate to admit it, but I miss you.'

It was like a new life had been breathed into you.

'I missed you too Keigo.'

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

45 minutes go by and you find yourself entering the familiar work place, pushing the top button of the elevator you make your way to the floor with Keigo's office on it.

Finally the elevator stops, and you couldn't be more eager to get off it and go fill out paperwork.

And speak to him.

Pushing open the door youre welcomed by a warm light filling the room, recognizing it as his lamp your eyes scan across the papers strewn across the desktop.

He looks up at you, smiling a bit before he pushes himself out of his seat.

Moving about the room he retrieves the all too familiar seat youve spent more late nights in than youd ever admit to, helping him fill out paperwork, just chatting on your rare and few slow days of work, or waiting around for him until the early morning hours, just to make sure he came back alive and okay.

“Here,” he motions toward the seat. “Sit down. Get comfortable.”

And you do.

He retakes his seat and hands you a few papers. You naturally put your head down and get to work filling them out.

Time seems to slip away on nights like this.

Hours and hours of paperwork work go into running a successful hero agency, and you knew that.

It also meant hours and hours of time you got to spend with the man.

Finally you look up from the papers infront of you, trying to initiate any kind of conversation.

After a second Keigo looks up, locking eyes with you. He takes a breath in and pushes his pile of papers away from him.

He puts his elbows on the desk and dramatically drops his face into his palms, sighing loudly.

Looking up he finally speaks.

“Look, about that night,” he starts but you dont think youre ready to hear what words inevitably are going to leave his mouth, so you cut him off.

“Im sorry if i made you uncomfortable! Or ruined our friendship! I understand that you want to keep things casual!”

He looks at you in shock.

“W-what? I was going to say I really enjoyed it and wanted to know if you did too?”

You now look back at him, your eyes are so wide you look like a scared cat.

“Huh?” You grumble out, embarrassed at your lack of a filter a few seconds before.

“That night? Did you have fun?” He pops a sarcastic brow at you, giving you a devious smile. Now hes just doing this to be a brat.

You take a deep breath in, finally going to speak.

“Yes.,” You say, its quick and embarrassingly needy.

He hums as if hes looking to find the right words.

But before he can you speak again.

“But, why have you been avoiding me?”

Keigo clears his throat and readjusts in his seat, not expecting a serious question.

“I uh,” hes looking anywhere but you. “Ive had some things going on that im not allowed to talk about. And uh, a villian brought your name up so i had to stay away from you for a while but we got him.”

The way he admits to this secret is so shy and awkward. Like he was a small child admitting to eating the last cookie.

You stare at him blankly. Not expecting him to behave like he is.

Youre used to his goofy and weird side, not his shy and embarrassed one.

“Oh.” Is all you manage to say.

“Yeah. Im- look, im uh, really sorry for not saying anything, like not even giving you a hint or anything. I just couldnt risk this guy finding out, or finding you.”

You knew these things would come with being close to him, but normally since you two were so close, it was someone else that would be brought up in threatening manners by villians.

You two were side by side and had been for a few years, so normally villians just targeted both of you.

But now there was a new found since of, pride?

Like youre really so important to the Hawks that if a villian even mentioned you he would do anything he could to protect you, even if it meant hurting your feelings temporarily.

A sly smirk overtook your face and you gave him a familiar but challenging look.

“So, im really that important to you that villians use me as leverage? Ha! Thats a new one!” You swing your legs over the arms of the chair, putting yourself in a bridal position with the piece of furniture.

Hes silent for a moment, processing the sudden 180° in your behavior before giving you a similar look back.

“You are. Y’know, its honestly really annoying.,” he stands from his spot behind his desk and makes his way so hes behind your back. Your neck leans back to look up at him, and hes already looking down at you, hands on his hips.

“You know why its annoying?”

“Why?” Its a meek whisper almost.

He leans down, putting his rough hands on your shoulders for support.

“Because when I had to stay away from you for so long, all I could do was think about you.”

Hes now rubbing his thumbs in circles on the base of your neck.

“Whys that annoying?” You couldnt hide the bit of nervousness in your tone, scared maybe he really didnt like you.

“Because when all i can do is think about you, my mind starts to wonder…” hes running his hand lightly down your shoulder, than your arm, and tracing it back up again to start over.

“Wonder what?” You are now purposefully whispering.

He moves to be infront of the chair normally, grabbing your ankles and pushing them off the arm rest, signaling for you to sit normally.

You move and sit facing him.

He leans down be in front of you.

He’s so close you can see the faint scars you recognize from past fights. Now healed. Its almost symbolic.

The pain and hurt a person goes through can just fade away to seem like it almost never happened.

You find yourself lost in this train of thought, so much so, that you dont even realize youve lifted your hand to cup his cheek. Its almost as if it was a reflex, or maybe a way to prove this was actually happening, who knows.

He leans into your palm and lets out a small sigh, as if maybe hes doing the same as you, trying to figure out if all of this was really happening.

Its interesting, just a few years ago you were some total fan girl and now here you are, in his office in the late hours of the night, with him literally in the palm of your hand.

“Y’know,” he speaks up. “Before a few weeks ago i didnt even notice.”

“What?” Its as if he only said half a thought out loud, which is something he tends to do often.

“That I was actually in love with you.”

You move at the sudden admission of romance.

In love with, you?

Keigo ‘Hawks’ Takami just said hes in love with you.

“You- you- HUH?!” You move so now youre standing up hands waving around in the air.

“Is that not what this is?” Hes now standing as well, a look of hurt is on his face.

“No it is. It definitely is. Im just,” you breath in and now stand straight looking at him. “Im caught off guard is all.”

His face eases for a second before he changes to a quizzical one.

“Im confused.”

“Youre confused?” You ask.

“Yeah, because obviously youve been in love with me since however long because i saw the posters in your room, and we spend almost all our time together, like you even come into the bathroom with me when i shower, and yet i dont know why i didnt know sooner.”

Hes dead serious.

This man is just now figuring that out?

And hes a prohero?

Gods, help us all.

You deadpan at him now, throwing a hand on your hip sassily.

“It took seeing some old posters in my room from like 5 years ago to figure it out?”

Hes now giving you a shocked expression.

“Well its not like you said anything!”

“Out of respect for you! And anyways i should be the confused one! You spent 2, nearly 3 weeks, basically avoiding me, which i now know why, but then you call me to do paperwork and confess your love for me!”

“Well I’m just figuring it out since that night!”

Its an argument, but theres no ill-intent, you know that, he knows that, you guys do this often enough.

“What?”

He now looks embarrassed, a blush is on his face.

“I think that maybe i’ve felt like this for a while but I just didnt realize this is what i felt. Ever since i saw you all done up that night and relaxed, i guess it just clicked? I guess?,” he clears his throat. “Like that ive felt like this for a while.”

“Well ive known how i feel.” You feign arrogance, to lighten the mood.

He chuckles a bit, stepping towards you.

He closes the distance.

Pushing some of your hair behind your ear he whispers to you. “Yeah? And how exactly do you feel?”

You give him a small smile.

“Im definitely in love with you.”

A soft chuckle leaves his mouth, hes so close you can feel it on your skin.

“Good.”

He closes the distance, his lips meeting yours.

Its hungry and desperate.

You feel a primal like desire rising in your belly, reaching up your hands find their way to sit on each side of his face, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

A slight moan leaves his mouth at the sudden movement.

He backs up until you hit his desk.

He leans down grabbing the underside of your thighs, then hoists you up onto the tabletop.

He readjusts to stand between your legs, restinf his forehead on yours he breathes out a few words.

“All that thinking i did, fuck, i need you so bad y/n.”

Hes so desperate for you it makes you weak in the knees.

You chuckle slightly and pull his face back to lock lips with yours again.

After a moment you whisper in his ear.

“Not as badly as i need you keigo.”

He gives you a wide eyed look before you see something in him completely change.

It's as if something in him snapped, he grabbed your face pulling you back in once again, harsher and more hungry.

He pulls you to the edge of the desk, so you and him are flush against each other.

your arms are wrapped around his neck and his hands are on your thighs, he glides them up to rest on your hips.

He grinds against you, slowly, almost like he's making sure it's ok too do it.

You grind back on him, letting him know its ok to do so.

He begins, slow, honey like movements of his hips, and you do the same, matching his pace, rocking forward into him.

Your tongues clash in each others mouths, soft moans leaving the both of you.

You can feel him through his pants, and it's not like you really needed any more proof of how big he was, you had already gotten an idea a few weeks ago before your last heated make out session was interrupted.

He pulls away, breathing hard.

"Can... can I take your clothes off?"

It's shy and sheepish, surprising coming from the man who was so eager and bold just minutes ago.

"Please."

He licks his lips before moving to pull your shirt off.

He then unbuttons your pants, pushing them down to your knees, you make haste to step out of them fully.

Lastly he reaches behind you and unhooks your bra clasps, stepping back slightly he pushes the straps forward, letting the bra slide off your arms and onto the floor.

You're now only left in your underwear.

He looks down, then up, then down, almost like he's taking a mental picture, but it doesn't make you feel any less awkward. You bring your hands up to cover your chest.

He quickly pulls them off and shakes his head 'no'.

He grabs your hand and brings it to his belt clasp, you take this as a hint to undress him.

Doing so you unbuckle his belt, then undo his pants. pushing them down, keigo kicks them off to the side.

You then lift the bottom of his shirt, in a slight way to let him know you want him to be the on to take it off.

He does.

Now you're both In the same predicament you were in at your apartment.

Underwear was the only thing separating you from him.

He walks forward, quickly closing the gap again.

You guys are standing in his office almost completely naked, kissing, he's running his hands all over you, you're doing the same to him, grabbing his biceps and running your hands up and down them.

He lifts you up setting you onto the desk again.

He drops to his knees and pulls your underwear down until they're hanging off one of your ankles.

Pushing your legs apart, He groans burying his face into you.

His tongue circles your clit a few times before he finally locks onto you.

He's eating you out like a man who's been starving for years.

You're moaning and tugging his hair between your fingers, holding the loose strands out of his face.

After a few minutes of this he stops, standing back up he wipes his face.

Leaning down he kisses you again.

You move your hand forward and tug at his waistband on his boxers.

He pulls them off quickly.

You break the kiss to look down and finally see him fully.

It's big, like you predicted.

You reach out and touch it, wrapping your fingers around it, you look back up at him to make sure it's ok you're even doing this.

He kisses you.

You kiss back and begin pumping his length for a moment before scooting forward to the edge of the desk.

You run his tip up and down yourself for a minute, using the wetness as a lube.

You finally line him up to your entrance, rocking your hips forward it pushes in a bit.

He hisses and you moan a bit.

He moves to be closer to you, pushing himself in further and further until he's all the way in.

You both moan when he does.

He's still for a moments so you decide to speak.

"Keigo. Need you to do sum'thin' please." Its breathy and sounds so sweet and pretty coming from your mouth.

"Sorry pretty girl, j'st needed a second."

His voice is strained and gravelly.

He begins moving at a steady pace, not too slow nor too fast.

You throw your head back and moan softly.

Keigo can't believe his eyes.

You are the most gorgeous woman he's ever seen.

You looks so pretty under him too.

He feels like he's being baptized in your beauty.

a sultry and soft call of his name breaks him out of his trance like state.

"Keigo, f-faster."

He picks up the pace and wraps his hands around your thighs, pulling them up around his waist.

you lean back so you're propped up on your elbows.

"F-fuck! Feel s'good Kei."

"A-ah!"

Moans, and cries of the mans name fill up the room.

He stops for a moment, pulling you off the desk before he bends you over and pushes you back over the top of it.

Your feet are on the ground still, but now you're ass up for the man.

He moans loudly before speaking.

"God damn, you're so fucking sexy baby. Gonna make you mine."

You wimper pushing yourself back in a pathetic attempt to get him back inside you.

He takes the hint and pushes himself back in.

He reaches over, wrapping your hair around his hand, pulling back he forces you to arch in a 'c' like shape, your head is on his shoulder, while he's still in you.

He moves his hand to wrap around your throat.

He kisses your jaw as he begins moving his hips.

Slowly at first, but then his hand gets slightly tighter around your throat and he suddenly begins thrusting faster and faster.

you move to drop your hands on the desktop.

His arm extends with your movements, as his had that was on your throat now makes its way back into your hair, yet again. He's still thrusting in and out of you hard.

He continues the same pace for a moment before yet again pulling out of you.

He guides you towards the large window in his office. It overlooks the city down below.

"What- What are you doing."

"Gonna show everyone what's mine."

You go to speak again but before you can, he pushes back into you. Simultaneously pushing you against the window. He has your cheat pushed against the cold glass.

You know from this height nobody could actually see you without binoculars.

But the thrill of getting caught like this made it all the more alluring to you.

He is moving a a fast pace again.

Slapping and squelching is ringing in your ears.

He's moaning loudly, as his strokes are getting sloppier and sloppier.

"Im- Im gonna cum."

"D-do it.," you reach under you to touch yourself while he's pumping in and out of you. "M'gonna- cum too, fuck kei!"

"Good- good job baby, a-ah! Fuck cum- cum for me." he's breathless and his words are broken up through choked moans.

"M' summing!" you chant out.

He pulls out of you, pumping himself briefly before moaning your name loudly followed by a "Me too baby!"

He slowly stops pumping himself and his breathing gets heavier.

You stand up, on shaky legs and turn to face him.

Your eyes scan over the office, clothes are every where, papers scattered on the floor.

You look down, a huge stain on his carpet from the messes you two had just made.

You wrap your arms around your chest and move away from the window.

"So, uhm, this is a huge mess."

He now looks around the room.

"Yeah..."

"Well I guess we better get cleaned up!"

He stares at you blankly for a moment.

You speak up.

"Then maybe you'd want to come over? And stay the night at my place? Maybe we could shower?" A devious grin spreads on your face and you wiggle your eyebrows at him.

A similar grin fills his face too.

"I mean, if that's an invite, who am I to turn it down?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Omg y'all sorry it took me so long to do this second part!

taglist

@asteruuu

@ava-cjkk

@gotacoinslot

[libingan]

devotion runs deep, and for you, it’s carved into your very skin.

cw: self-harm, unhealthy dynamics, obsessive and possessive relationships, blood and injury

sorry if i didnt have a new years fic to post lmao i was feeling really shitty that day but now im okay!!!!! so have this thing i wrote a few weeks back and forgot to post!

the flat creak of the front door opening barely registered in your ears, the adrenaline pumping too hot in your veins to notice much else. the blade in your hand glinted under the harsh fluorescent light of the bathroom, your blood staining its edge and pooling beneath your skin where you'd carved those two letters — S.R.

the initials were shaky, perhaps messier than you intended, but they were there. a permanent mark of your devotion. the sting was almost euphoric. you were his, through and through, and now the whole world — or at least your flesh — would know it.

you were still admiring your handiwork when you felt him enter the room. his presence, even without a word, was always impossible to miss — heavy, commanding. the air seemed to thicken when simon was around, but tonight, there was something else entirely lingering between you two.

“what the fuck,” his voice came low and slow, disbelief laced with something darker. something that had your pulse skipping and your stomach knotting with anticipation.

you turned to face him, the blade still in your grip, your bloodied hand trembling slightly with the aftermath of the adrenaline. simon's dark eyes swept over you, catching on the crimson streaks painting your skin, before finally landing on the carved letters that stood stark against your lower abdomen.

"you did this to yourself?" he asked, his tone even, but you could hear the slight hitch in his voice — the shock and maybe something deeper. his gaze flicked to your face, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to piece together the depths of your madness.

"all for you," you said simply, your voice softer than you'd intended, but the weight of your conviction bled through. you saw the way his jaw ticked, how his fingers flexed, like he was holding himself back from something — what, you weren’t sure yet.

simon crossed the room in three steps, towering over you as he took the blade from your hand. his grip was firm but careful, ensuring he didn’t hurt you — at least not unintentionally. his eyes burned into yours, wild and unreadable.

“you’re a bloody lunatic,” he muttered, but there was no malice in his words, only a raw edge of... admiration? something feral that made your knees weak.

his free hand came to cup your jaw, tilting your head up so you couldn’t look away. “you’re mine,” he growled lowly, his voice thick with possessiveness. “don’t need to carve it into yourself to prove it.”

you smirked, sharp and teasing. “and yet, here we are,” you said, gesturing to the evidence.

the corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile — not fully. instead, he leaned closer, his breath ghosting over your skin. "you’re out of your damn mind," he rasped, his voice dripping with something almost reverent. "and fuck if i don’t love you even more for it."

he crouched, inspecting your wound. there was no panic in his movements, no hurried rush to scold you for your recklessness. instead, there was an almost clinical focus as he gently cleaned the wound, his hands steady despite the storm brewing behind his eyes.

“you really are a piece of work,” he murmured, though there was no venom in his words.

once he’d finished cleaning you up, his hands lingered at your sides, his thumb brushing over unmarred skin just above the letters. his gaze locked onto yours again, darker now, a dangerous gleam sparking to life.

"reckon you’ve started something," he said, his voice low and gravelly. “might let you finish it.” his hand moved to tap lightly over his chest, just above his heart. "your turn, yeah?"

your breath hitched, heart pounding in tandem with the wicked grin tugging at your lips. simon was everything you’d ever wanted — dark, dangerous, and entirely yours.

you couldn’t wait to carve your name into him.

[harumasa-wifey]

Omgomg i love your writing sm 😭‼️

Since you're open for request, can I request a doctor!reader with Harumasa? Imagine he is going to infirmary just to see reader 😔 maybe he pretend to be sick as an excuse just to see reader

➹Just Because I Like You a Lot

✖Asaba HarumasaxFem!doctor Reader

Warning: none just some fluff, not proofread

Note: yea i almost died last week/srs but only my left hand is injured so it's fine. Thank you for waiting i also have another similar request for doctor Reader and I am currently working on it.

The moonlight falls on the papers placed upon your office desk as you go on reading while sipping on your cup of tea with more papers in the piles beside your desk.

You weren't expecting any patients at this hour as you were checking some reports before ending your shift but as the saying goes, Expect the unexpected. So there he was entering your office with a pout on his lips looking beat up.

Your instant response was putting down your cup as you stood up, several thoughts running in your head. Did he get these injuries in a Hollow? Or worse fighting some high level ethereal.

“Who hurt you?” The worried look on your face was obvious as you asked him to sit down to take a look.

“Chief”

.....

“Huh?”

The worried expression was now replaced by confusion. Why would miyabi do that? Of course she should have a reason, those thoughts ended as he spoke up again.

“Well well isn't this embarrassing, the chief and I had a sparring session and now I look like this”

“Man she wasn't playing this time” he murmured under his breath which was pretty audible in the peaceful office. A light giggle broke out your lips as you came to the conclusion on why this had happened.

“Really Miss doc? I came up looking this injured in the night and you are laughing,Won't you at least treat me with care?”

“Pfft, it's just some minor injuries you been through worse asaba but don't worry I'll ask a nurse to fix your bandages”

You were about to make your way to your desk to call upon a nurse when he pulled you back hugging you from the back, his breath fanning over your ears as he mumbled.

“I didn't come all this way for you to push me out, you know how much i hate travelling long distances”

It's true he is lazy like that and it's not like he cannot do this by himself yet he is here asking for your help when he could be home sleeping.

You held his hand which was interlocked around your waist as you faced him.

“Alright, sit back down I'll do it”

He smiled like a kid winning a prize and sat back on the bed watching you move around the office gathering the first aid kit, you came back with the kit and several bandages in your hand placing them on the desk.

“Okay, show me the wounds that have been reopened”

“Do I really need to do all that doc? You already know where it is, can't I just sit here all pretty for you?”

He said as he gave you a teasing smile clearly stating his intentions once again.

You sigh as your hands hover above his his tie first then the shirt buttons undoing them one by one as he quietly indulges you taking it off him with a satisfied smile resting on his until you pulled off his waist and stomach, he lets out a low grunt trying to make it look like it hurt while you just stared at him unamused.

“Can you please be gentle with me doc? I am a really fragile person”

“I am sure no fragile person can charge into hollows like it's nothing but whatever you want”

You checked around his wound and it hasn't been opened which was good. You just need to change the dressing, as you were thinking of changing the dressing your fingers were hovering around his abs, and how could he miss out on a chance like this.

“You like what you see doc? It took a lot of effort so i would like you to parise me more if you wanna” he asked with a slight smirk adorning his lips. You quickly take your hand back tearing your gaze away from him to the box besides.

“Ahem, i was checking the wound” even though what you said was true he surely doesn't mind you checking something else out on him.

You slowly but carefully wrapped the bandages around him and put the box aside giving him space to dress up but it seemed like he didn't want to do that either.

“won't you help me with this doc?” you wish you could dig yourself a hole, his advances were getting too much for you to act nonchalant even though the blush on your face is quite obvious to him and he is enjoying every second of it.

You help him put on his shirt and tie back, whispering quietly under your breath which was clearly audible to him.

“You cannot keep getting away with this” before leaning in to give him a final kiss as you ward him out of your office to pack your stuff to leave with him, you know he is standing outside and he won't go anywhere without you.

[logansdoe]

desperation.

warnings: f!reader, mdni, cockwarming.

a/n: I miss him. ☹️

The heavy steps could be heard from outside the door. His every step hurried, mixed with weight. Weight of his worries? Exhaustion? Or just simply his mind.

Some of the dogs perked up. Catching his scent. The knob twisted twice before opening. Closing just as quick. You could hear that he is back. The dogs barked as they saw him. Jumping on him, trying to get his attention but it wasn't on them at the moment.

You, blissfully unaware of the storm that was his mind right now, stirred the tea. One tea bag, two spoons of sugar and a pinch of salt. Just how you like it.

You could hear the footsteps. Thud, thud, thud against the hallway. Making you raise your brow. You stepped away from the counter, tea forgotten as you peak your head out to hallway.

You saw him, but only for a second. Before you could even ask, his lips were on yours. Soft. His hand came up to hold the back of your neck, holding you still as he licked his way in between your lips.

A man starved is what would be used to describe him right now. In a moment of surprise, you pushed at his chest. Only for his free hand to come and wrap around your wrist, pulling it away.

Backing you up against the counter. The steam of the tea still wafted in the air. You could feel yourself running out of air. A small distressed sound leaving your lips against his, the sound almost swallowed by him before he pulled back.

Looking down at you, your chest heaved with every breath you took. Up and down, over and over but it felt like the air just wasn't entering your lungs. His lips moved to you jaw. Kissing down to the side of your neck.

"need you. . Need you so bad." He whispered against your skin. Tainting it with his words. "Please—", he stepped closer. The words covered in desperation. His body pushing against yours. As if wanting to mend and be one.

He wants to be close. As close as physically possible. At this moment, he feels like the only way he could breathe is through you. His lips found yours again. His hand leaving your wrist to wrap around your waist. Pulling you close.

Hands placed under your thighs to lift you up. Lips still attached, swallowing every sound, every whisper of any word.

Walking to the living room. Sitting on the chair as he placed you on his lap. One hand leaving to unbuckle his belt. Teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you whimper. Your hands loop around his neck, one hand in his soft curls.

He unbuttoned his jeans, pulling the zipper down as he pulled his cock out. Hard and seeking attention. It almost looked painful. Using his arm wrapped around your waist to lift you up, having your weight on your knees as he pulls your shorts down, just enough.

Using his spit, to coat his tip as he run it between your silken folds before letting you sink down his length. His mouth gaped, head tilted down, as a strangled breath left him.

Your grip on his tightened. Feeling him, in you, was a feeling you will never be used to. "Ah— Will. .", you whispered. Your face going into hide. Forehead against his shoulder. Your hips squirmed, starting to move but his hands firmly placed on them.

"ju— just stay. Like this", he whispered. His voice shaky. Vulnerable. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back, he swallowed thickly. His dry throat bobbing as he did. "I need this", he whispered softly.

The feeling of you, felt like he could breathe. Like the haze in his clouded mind has finally cleared. Wafting away like the steam of the forgotten tea.

[paradiseprincesss]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝟑𝟒 + 𝟑𝟓 | Jonathan Crane

ℭ𝔞𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔶 𝔲𝔭 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱?

𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 — If you understand the subtle homage to the music video for 34+35 I love you.

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — When you’re summoned to help Jonathan in the middle of the night with your shared experiment, you expect to assist with complex math and scientific breakthroughs — but instead, you test an entirely different kind of chemistry and set of numbers...

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 — 2.8k

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 -> 18+ ONLY Smut, p in v, oral (f & m receiving), 69, riding, unprotected sex, creampie

𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

With a lazy sigh, you put your car in park outside the isolated lab building and check your makeup in the rearview mirror one last time before leaving your vehicle. Annoyance bubbled up inside your chest as you clung onto your white lab coat tightly and you fumbled around with your keys, shoving them into your purse. Your heels, also white to match your pristine lab coat, clicked against the pavement as you made your way inside. 

It was nearly two in the morning, and yet, here you were – walking through the walls of the now eerily quiet lab in which you and Jonathan Crane so often worked together at. The two of you were working on a new compound version of his infamous fear toxin, and with both of your talents in science combined, this version of the toxin was nearly ten times as potent and long-lasting.

Although he’d never admit it, he thought you were insanely smart – so smart that he swore you could give him a run for his money. You were gifted when it came to the sciences, hence why you chose to be a scientist for a living. 

Sure, maybe a corrupt scientist, but still a scientist nonetheless. 

Tonight, you had been out with a few colleagues for Friday night drinks, but a few hours into your celebration, Jonathan had called you nonstop and at some point, you got annoyed by the constant ringing and picked up. He had explained to you that something wasn’t going right in your shared experiment and wanted your help in the lab as he couldn’t quite figure out what was missing. 

Despite it being ridiculously late, you agreed. A part of you wanted to stay and enjoy your night out, but ultimately, nothing was more important than this vital experiment – you and Jonathan had been working on it for months, after all.

As you stepped into the lab, the sharp click of your heels echoed off the sterile walls. Jonathan barely spared you a glance at first as he was much too focused on a pink liquid in a beaker in front of him. As he set the chemical down and looked at you – really looked at you – he froze. 

The pristine lab coat hung loosely around your shoulders and covered you for the most part, but that dress you had on underneath was painfully short. Not to mention those very high heels you had on that had no business being in a laboratory but somehow looked like they belonged. You adjusted your coat with the tiniest flick of your wrist, giving a peek of the tight, lowcut mini dress hidden underneath, which caused Jonathan to almost choke on his breath.

“You’re late,” he mumbled as he clenched his jaw. “And why are you dressed like that?” 

You sauntered towards him as if you had all the time in the world. With a teasing smile, you looked up at him as you watched him try not to look at you. 

“You called me at two in the morning while I was out at a bar,” you explained, gesturing to your heels and dress. “I had my lab coat in the backseat of my car so I figured wasting time by going home and changing wouldn’t do either of us any good. Be glad I even showed up at all.” 

Jonathan scoffed at your words, going back to working on his chemical concoction. The two of you exchanged a few words but mostly just worked on configuring the toxin after he had caught you up on what it was he needed help with. After about an hour, you heard him sigh with annoyance, which caused you to pause what you were doing.

You made your way over, leaning on the desk beside him as you observed what he was writing down. He paused as you stood beside him, giving you a glare with those icy blue eyes of his. 

“Do you need something?” He asked dryly as he looked back at the chemicals in front of him and scribbled notes. 

You tilted your head with a faint smile, taking your perfectly manicured nails as you traced absent patterns on the cold, metal counter. “Just curious,” you said softly. “You seemed so…urgent when you called me at 2 A.M. Thought maybe you were saving the world or something.” 

He paused as his pen hovered over the paper. He looked at you slowly, and for a split second, his gaze lingered on your figure, taking in your dishevelled yet effortlessly sexy appearance. “I needed an extra pair of hands,” he said curtly, his tone clipped. 

You smirked as you leaned in a little closer. Your gaze flickered between his notes and his face. “Right. Hands. Sure.” 

He stiffened as he glared at you from the corner of his eye. “If you’re just going to stand there, don’t distract me.” 

“Distract you?” You asked innocently. “I’m not doing anything. You’re the one who called me, remember?” 

Suddenly, Jonathan exhaled sharply as he put his pen down and turned to face you fully. His voice was low and strained as if he was barely holding it together. “I called asking you for help, not…this.”

You raised a brow as you feigned innocence once more. “This?”

He gestured vaguely as his jaw tightened. “You. Showing up like…that.” 

Your grin widened as you stepped closer to him, closing the space between you and him. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you tonight. Maybe it was just your inhibitions slowly fading into the background as the clock hit 3 A.M., or…

“I came straight from the bar,” you said matter-of-factly. “Thought you’d appreciate the effort.” 

He stared at you as he leaned back slightly like he was trying to put space between you and him. “Effort is not the word I’d use.”

You shrugged and rested your hand on the steel counter beside his. Your hand brushed up against his knuckles, and yet, he didn’t pull away. You watched as he stared at the contact before he slowly looked up at you again to meet your gaze. 

“You’re complicated,” you murmured, suddenly unable to stop yourself from saying what came next. “But I guess I kind of like that about you.” 

Your heart skipped as soon as the words left your mouth, and you immediately regretted it. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you realized what you had just said. As you turned around to walk away in humiliation, he grabbed your wrist gently and pulled you into him.

Then he kissed you – no words, just a kiss that erased everything else as it silenced your thoughts. His lips were soft, but the way he was kissing you was anything but that. You gasped quietly as he nipped your bottom lip gently, pulling it between his teeth as you leaned forward, desperate for something more. Anything more. 

His hands found your waist, and he squeezed gently as the two of you continued to feverishly kiss each other under the fluorescent lights of the lab. Slowly, he moved his hands to your lab coat and he slipped the thin fabric off of you, which you welcomed. As soon as your lab coat was out of the way, he picked you up – never breaking the kiss – and placed you on the cold, sterile lab counter, causing you to let out a small, startled noise. 

You broke the kiss just enough to let out a breathy giggle as he smiled faintly at you as his piercing blue eyes looked into your own, and you swore this was the first time you’d ever seen Jonathan smile. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said in almost a whisper, and you felt your cheeks heat up from the unexpected compliment. His tone was soft and genuine. “You make it hard to focus generally, but tonight,” he sighed as he admired you before continuing, “it was extraordinarily difficult not to get distracted around you. You’re a vision – like…art.” 

“Jonathan.” You bit your lip softly, and you could feel your composure starting to shatter as he broke down your walls. You were surprised he was so sentimental given his…personality. “I need you — I want you.”

“Yeah?” He asked softly as his eyes travelled all over your body. “You have me, darling. I’m all yours.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at him – the other side of Jonathan Crane – and you pulled him close by his shoulders as his grip on your waist never wavered. He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t exactly place, but it was comforting nonetheless.

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly as one of his hands came to rub circles on your thigh and the other brushed past the edge of your mini dress. 

You nodded, “Yes.” 

As he slipped you out of your dress, leaving you in nothing but your lacy undergarments, you noticed the tent in his pants, and you bit your lip as you fought the urge to pounce on him right then and there. In that very moment, there was nothing you wanted more than him – and he knew that. The both of you were so worked up that it didn’t take long for either of you to shed your clothing, and before you knew it, you were straddling him on the shabby, worn-out couch in the breakroom of the lab. 

You moaned into his mouth as he squeezed your ass tightly, and in return, you started to grind yourself on his erection. The only thing that stood between the two of you right now were your panties and his boxers, and you were more than desperate to take them off. 

You broke the kiss for just a moment and Jonathan ran his thumb against your bottom lip. “I want to try something,” you whispered. “Lay back.” 

“Lay back?” He asked curiously, and you nodded. 

Jonathan smiled faintly as he laid back onto the large but worn-out couch, and you placed yourself between his legs. With a teasing glint in your eyes, you bit your lip and kept your gaze locked on his as you freed his erection. You smiled playfully as you then got up off of him, to which he gave you a confused look. You took your panties off and straddled his chest, but faced the opposite way.

“What are you…oh.” Jonathan’s smooth voice only turned you on even more as he realized what you were trying to do. “Fuck, let me taste you.”

With butterflies in your stomach, you sunk your drooling cunt down onto his mouth and immediately, his hands came to grip your thighs. He delved his tongue into your folds and you whimpered, feeling him lap up your wetness as you rode his face. He flicked his tongue deep into your hole and gripped your thighs even harder, causing you to feel hazy at the sheer pleasure just his mouth alone could bring you. 

You leaned forward as you stroked his cock, and he continued to eat you out skillfully. Carefully, you took his cock into your mouth as he groaned into your cunt once more, sending shockwaves through your body. You moaned around his length as you gagged on it, trying to push him past your throat barrier. With your lips wrapped around his cock and his tongue deep in your gushing hole, Jonathan thought he was in heaven, and judging by the sounds you were making, so did you. 

You continued to hallow your cheeks as you tried to take him entirely in your mouth, and he swivelled his tongue through your folds, tongue darting in and out of your sopping wet cunt. You swirled your tongue over the slit of his cock, and he returned the favour by gently sucking your clit. Both of you were making choked sounds, and soon enough, you were feeling that familiar knot in your stomach start to tighten.

Jonathan suddenly took one of his fingers and teased your slit with it, before inserting it into you as he continued to lap you up. You took him out of your mouth with a pop, and you mewled as he continued to pump a single digit in and out of your sticky hole. 

“I’m close, Jon,” you warned. “I wanna feel you inside of me when I come…” 

He grumbled as you lifted yourself off of his mouth, but within seconds, you were now facing him and straddling him as you sank down on his thick cock. His hands immediately found purchase on your hips and you rested yours on his chest as the both of you let out strangled moans. You could feel him fill you up completely, stretching your tight hole out inch by inch, and you started to bounce up and down on his length slowly. 

“Thaaaat’s it,” he praised softly. “Good fuckin’ girl, baby.”

“Fuck, Jonathan…” You whimpered as you picked up the pace, bouncing on him faster and faster.

He watched you in awe as your tits bounced with every movement of your body, and he gently guided your hips with his hands. You could feel his cock brushing up against that spongy spot inside of you, causing you to let out stuttered curses and moans. You started to squirm slightly as you felt yourself getting close again, and you made sure to let him know.

“God, I’m close,” you panted. 

“Me too,” he said breathlessly. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

You continued to pick up the pace as you chased your own high, moving up and down in a desperate attempt to feel him in the deepest parts of you. He watched as his cock disappeared in you over and over again, and grunted as he felt your walls clench around his length. 

“So wet, darling. Fuck, you’re so wet.” You’d never heard a tone so whiney come from Jonathan before, and in all honesty, the way he was talking had your head going blank. There was something so hot about him almost begging you without outright saying it. 

You tried to tell him you were coming, but your brain short-circuited as your release rippled through your body. He gripped onto your waist as he held you against him in one swift movement, this time taking control as he began to roughly buck his hips up into you. You were a shaking mess, screaming his name as he slammed his cock into your stretched-out hole over and over again until he felt himself about to come with you.

“Gonna fill you,” he gruffed. “Stuff this tight fuckin’ cunt with my come—”

“Yes! Fuck, please—” You wailed, unable to hold back the words as he talked dirty to you.

“Yeah, you love it,” he growled, slamming his cock as deep as he possibly could into you. “Just stay there and take it, darling.”

You did as told and stayed slumped against him as he held you close. After a few more harsh, deep thrusts, he emptied himself inside of you, filling you with every last drop of his come. He stayed buried inside of you as the both of you tried to catch your breaths, and you rested your forehead against his. 

Your heart was racing still, even in the aftermath. “Well,” you murmured, lips ghosting over his. “That was one way to test chemistry.” 

A low chuckle escaped him as he pressed a kiss to your lips tenderly. “Not the breakthrough I had in mind,” he said, his voice much softer now.

You smirked, letting your fingers trace along his jaw idly. “Maybe not, but I’d call it conclusive.”

“Conclusive?” He asked, his tone turning more teasing as one of his hands traced lightly against your hips. “I very much doubt one trial is enough to prove a hypothesis.” 

Your smile widened. “Oh? So you’re saying we need to run the test again?”

“For accuracy,” he replied with mock seriousness. 

You laughed, leaning into him, but before you could respond, his expression shifted – still teasing but with a sincerity that caught you off guard. “Although… if we’re testing chemistry,” he said, his thumb brushing your cheek gently, “I’d like to see how it works outside the lab. Maybe dinner? A real date.”

For a moment, you stared at him, caught between disbelief and a flutter of something you couldn’t quite name. Jonathan Crane, the stoic and guarded man you’d worked alongside for so long, was suddenly showing a side of himself you hadn’t expected. Sentimental, even.

Your voice was soft when you finally answered. “A real date, huh?”

He nodded, his gaze steady on yours. “For… accuracy,” he repeated, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. Your heart did a little flip as you tried to suppress the grin spreading across your face. 

“Well,” you said lightly, “who am I to argue with science?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[mrmeowski]

˚✧𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐭. 𝟏/𝟐✧˚

Synopsis: An alternate time where they lived as not tales to tell in the dark but actual, living people. Although, they're not much different from the tales... as they still are monsters that aren't afraid to kill to get or protect their beloved.

CW: Yandere tendancies, blood, stalking, slight body horror

A/N: I caved in after a long break. I mean, I couldn't not write a fic about Homicipher! I fell hard for these monster men🥰

Word Count: 5.4k

Characters: 🧡༻✧ Mr. Chopped [1.4k] 💜༻✧ Mr. Crawling [2.2k] 🧡༻✧ Mr. Gap [1.8k]

⋇⊰MR. CHOPPED⊱⋇

Haruto is hard to miss on campus. With his fiery ginger hair and boundless energy, he stood out in every crowd. At just eighteen, he acted more like a child than a college student, bounding around like a ball of energy.

He’d sprint up to classmates, pleading with them to join him in a game. The responses were always the same: excuses, polite rejections, or outright dismissals.

“Maybe later, Haruto.”

“I’m busy right now.”

“No thanks.”

Each rejection chipped away at his smile, but only for a moment. He’d bounce back, laughing off the rejection, and run off to find someone else. You admired his resilience even if you could see through the cracks in his ever-present grin.

There is only one person who occasionally humored his games: a tall, stoic student with silver hair. While Haruto seemed happy to have someone around, it's clear the other student barely tolerated his antics.

You’d watch from the sidelines as he desperately tried to engage the unwilling participant in an overly complicated game of tag or hide-and-seek around campus. Despite his efforts, it's obvious the games weren’t as fun when the enthusiasm isn’t mutual. Still, he carried on, his laughter ringing out like a challenge to the dull, routine college life.

Until now.

It' during your lunch break when you heard it: soft, muffled crying from one of the quieter corners of the library. The sound tugged at your chest, urging you to investigate. Rounding a shelf of dusty textbooks, you saw him.

Haruto, the campus’s eternal ball of sunshine, is crumpled on the floor, his knees pulled to his chest and his face buried in his arms. His usual vibrant energy is replaced with trembling shoulders and quiet sobs.

“Haruto…?” You called out gently.

His head snapped up, wide amber eyes locking onto yours. He hastily scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, forcing a shaky grin to replace the vulnerability you’d just witnessed.

“Oh, hey! W-What are you doing here?” He said, his voice betraying the attempt at cheer. “Looking f-for a book or something? I.. I-I could help!”

Concern swimming in your voice as you spoke, “I should be asking you that... Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! Totally fine!” He waved you off with a laugh that sounded more hollow than his usual bright tone. “Just… resting my eyes. You know how boring studying is!~” You tilted your head, unconvinced.

“...Hey, it’s okay to be upset. You don’t.. have to hide it from me.” Something in your voice seemed to anchor him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

Looking away, unable to meet your gaze, he managed to push out some words.

“I-It’s just…” he started, his voice breaking into a trembling whisper, “Nobody wants to play with me.” His fingers fidgeted in his lap, clutching at the hem of his uniform as if searching for some comfort.

“I get it… I really do. Everyone’s busy with their work, with exams, with their big, important futures... But—” His voice cracked, and he quickly swiped at the tears pooling in his amber eyes with his sleeve. “That doesn’t give them a reason to be so mean!” His words came out in a rush, raw and vulnerable. His gaze finally met yours, and your heart shattered.

He looked like a child left out in the rain—eyes wide, brimming with unshed tears, and filled with an innocence that felt too pure for this world.

You didn’t think it's possible for a person to express so much emotion, but he defied all expectations.

“I’m… sorry,” you murmured softly, unsure what else to say but desperate to soothe the ache in his voice.

“It’s not your fault,” he muttered, lowering his head again. “I just thought… maybe if I kept smiling, kept trying, someone would eventually want to have fun too. But…” His voice broke again as a single tear slid down his cheek.

Kneeling down beside him, your hand instinctively reaching out to brush away the tear tracing down his cheek.

“Why don’t we play?” You offered softly.

For a moment, he simply stared at you, searching your face as though trying to confirm that your words were real.

“You… you mean it?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were scared you might change your mind.

“Of course,” you grinned. “What do you want to play?” The light in his eyes returned, brighter and brighter, until he's practically glowing.

He sat up straighter, his usual energy bubbling back to the surface, though tinged with disbelief.

“I—I don’t know! I wasn’t expecting anyone to actually say yes!” He laughed, and it is the first real laugh you’d heard from him all day. “We could—oh! Hide-and-seek? Or tag? Or maybe we could build a card tower! No, wait—do you know how to fold paper cranes?”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him at his excitement infectious.

“Slow down, Haruto! We’ve got time, we can do whatever you want.”

His cheeks flushed a bright red, the warmth of his shy grin making your chest ache in the best way. He scratched the back of his neck, his fingers tangling in the messy strands of his orange hair.

“Hehe… sorry." Voice soft with an almost childlike sheepishness. “I’m just not used to being asked to play… or, well, being asked for anything at all, so I guess I got a little too excited.” He shrugged, glancing at the floor before his gaze flickered toward the clock hanging on the wall then back at you.

“How long’s your break?”

It had been a few weeks since that first encounter in the serenity of the library, where Haruto’s energy had melted, and you’d seen the hidden cracks in his endless joy.

Since then, your days had been peppered with moments spent together, from silly games in the courtyard to quiet talks on the campus benches.

You even met his peculiar silver-haired acquaintance, a stoic figure who always had this... smile in his pale features. The man struck you as strange yet you just dimissed it.

But of course, like him, you had your own life—friends, classes, and responsibilities that didn’t always align with his. Though you cherished the time you spent together, it isn’t always possible to hang out with him all the time.

Unbeknownst to you, he didn’t see it that way.

He didn’t care much for classes. If anything, they were an obstacle, stealing precious moments he could have spent with you. Whenever you weren’t around, his energy waned. It's as though your presence is the only thing keeping his world vibrant.

And when he did catch glimpses of you laughing with your friends during lunch or chatting in the halls.

His blood boiled.

Jealousy is an ugly, consuming thing. It twisted inside him, wrapping around his heart like sharp vines. His cheerful mask stayed firmly in place—he’d perfected it long ago—but beneath it, cracks were forming.

He couldn’t stand it.

That monster inside of him, the one he always kept at bay, clawed its way to the surface. He knew it's wrong, but the thought of you laughing with someone else, sharing the pieces of yourself that he craved, s unbearable.

So, when he saw your closest friend walking alone, his mind snapped. That friend had been stealing your attention, distracting you from him. They were the reason you weren’t his completely. And now... they were going to pay.

He followed silently, amber eyes locked onto their every movement. Like a predator stalking its prey, he kept his distance until the street grew quiet and deserted.

A rock lay nearby, jagged and heavy. He picked it up, gripping it tightly as his knuckles turned white. His breathing quickened and smile widened, stretching unnaturally across his face until it seemed like it might split his cheeks.

When your friend turned curious, he's already rushing forward, his figure a blur of orange and malice. They barely had time to register what's happening before the rock collided with a sickening crunch.

He didn’t stop.

Over and over, the rock came down, staining his hands and clothes as he laughed—a manic, broken sound that echoed in the empty street. Even when your friend’s features became unrecognizable, he didn’t pause. His smile never wavered.

This is for you.

When it's over, he let the rock drop from his bloodied hand, his chest heaving with exhilaration. He wiped his hands on his pants, smearing crimson streaks across the fabric, and looked up at the sky with a soft, almost serene expression.

“You’ll only have me in the end,” he whispered to himself, his voice dripping with quiet satisfaction. “I’ll be the only one you can turn to, the only one you can trust. My arms are the only place you belong… just like it should always be.”

⋇⊰MR. CRAWLING⊱⋇

Kaito—that is his name. One you’d only heard whispered during roll calls or by professors when pressed for an answer. Despite being in the same class for nearly half the semester, you’d barely noticed him—well, not entirely.

Tall and lanky, he looked like a shadow lingering at the edges of your vision. His pale complexion only added to the air of frailty around him, and the dark circles beneath his eyes gave him a perpetually exhausted. He's quiet, too quiet, always sitting alone with a notebook in hand, scribbling away.

Yet, you couldn’t ignore the way his soft, almost wistful smile lingered as he watched the groups of friends laughing together. You’d caught him sneaking glances at you once or twice as well, but each time you tried to meet his gaze, he quickly turned away, his face tinged with pink.

You felt bad for him. Maybe it's the loneliness in his eyes that mirrored your own.

Still, when it came time to pair up for a group assignment, Partners were chosen quickly, laughter and chatter filling the room as people paired up until only two remained.

It's to no surprise that he's left without a partner. Your own friends weren’t in this class, leaving you with little choice but to approach him.

He looked up then, his dark eyes meeting yours as you spoke, "Kaito... do you want to partner up?”

His eyes merely widened a bit and you had to stand in front of him for quite an awkwardly long time before he finally responding, "S-Sure.. it's just the two of us left, right?" True, whether either of you liked it or not, you have no choice.

Still, you wanted to ask him.

You sat on the chair beside him. Up close, you noticed the details you’d missed before—the small scars scattered near his eyes, the way his fingers kept fidgeting with his pen as though trying to mask his nervousness.

Opening your textbook, you placed it on the desk, while he quietly flipped to a fresh page in his notebook. The two of you started working in silence, diving into the labyrinth of symbols and translations required for the project.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that he is doing most of the heavy lifting. You tried to follow along, but the jumble of ancient symbols began to blur together, leaving you feeling overwhelmed.

“You’re really good at this,” you murmured, breaking the silence.

Your eyes stayed glued to the book, but you didn’t miss the way his hand froze mid-note. Slowly, he turned to look at you, his expression one of quiet disbelief, like he hadn’t expected to hear those words directed at him. A shaky smile crept across his lips.

“Th-Thank you,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… doing well too.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head.

“Don’t lie. I’m just flipping pages while you’re the one doing all the real work.”

He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck, “It’s not—”

“I mean, look at this!” You interrupted, gesturing to the maze of symbols on the page in front of you. “It all looks the same! How are you even making sense of it?” You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration, leaning back in your chair, distancing yourself from the headache-inducing text.

A faint, amused sound escaping his lips.

“I… I guess I’ve just always been good at patterns,” he said quietly.

His gaze lingered on you as you sighed in frustration, lips pursed and brows furrowed in concentration. There's something endearing about you and a hint of admiration flickered in his tired, dark eyes. Though he quickly looked away, pretending to refocus on the notebook in front of him.

His pen hovered over the page, his progress slowing. Deep down, he didn’t want to finish it. Each moment spent working with you felt precious, and the thought of the task ending meant the excuse to spend time together would be gone. But time had a cruel way of moving faster especially with someone you like.

The sharp ring of the bell shattered the quiet bubble the two of you had been working in. He blinked, the sound jarring him back to reality. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been smiling until it faded, replaced by a dull ache in his chest.

The teacher’s voice became a distant murmur, instructions about wrapping up barely registering. He didn’t move, still staring at the open notebook, feeling strangely hollow. That , until your voice cut through the fog.

“Hey, you good?” You asked, wrapping an arm around your book.

Kaito startled slightly, looking up at you.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stammered, quickly gathering his notebook and pen. “I just… spaced out, I guess. I-I do that uh.. quite a lot ahaha...”

“You sure?” Raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring at that page for, like, a solid minute. You were so super focused and all.” Your teasing smile made his cheeks flush a faint pink, and he ducked his head, trying to hide it.

"S-Sorry,” he mumbled.

You laughed, “Well, don’t let it get to you. But seriously, I don’t know how I would’ve survived this without you.”

His lips parting as though he wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he nodded, clutching his notebook a little tighter.

“See you tomorrow?” You asked, pausing at the door.

“Y-Yeah,” he replied quickly, a little too eagerly.

You gave him one last smile before disappearing into the hallway, leaving him alone in the classroom. He stayed there for a moment, staring at the spot where you’d sat, his heart thudding in his chest.

Tomorrow. It isn’t much, but it' enough at least.

That conversation between you and Kaito replayed in his mind endlessly. For weeks, those stolen glances you two had shared across the room had been the highlight of his days, but now? Now he had something more—actual words, a connection, no matter how small.

But those interactions came at a cost. His nights grew restless, filled with vivid dreams and fantasies that left him feeling dazed when he woke up. He found himself longing for more moments with you.

Since the assignment brought you closer, he began to use your newfound acquaintance as a reason to linger near you. He’d sit beside you during breaks, his quiet presence soothing. He always seemed to know where you are, finding ways to cross paths with you after class.

You quickly realized that he is incredibly sweet. There is a warmth to his awkwardness that made it hard not to smile. He had this endearing habit of sticking close, always trailing behind you like a shadow, his tall frame somehow making his devotion seem both protective and.. puppy-like.

He also had a knack for being helpful. Whether it's explaining complex history topics, organizing your notes, or even packing your bag when you were running late, he always seemed eager to lighten your load. At lunch, he’d quietly take your empty tray without a word.

“You don’t have to do all this, you know,” you said one day, watching as he rearranged your books neatly into your bag.

“I know,” he replied softly, avoiding your gaze. “But I want to.” His sincerity always catch you off guard.

His eyes, dark and tired as they often seemed, held a vulnerability that made your heart ache. He isn’t just being kind—he's trying, in his own quiet way, to make himself indispensable to you.

And, little by little, it worked. You found yourself looking forward to his presence. But there is something about the way he always seemed to be there, watching, waiting, that would sent a chill up your spine.

You brushed it off, convincing yourself it was nothing. After all, he's just harmless, isn't he? Just a sweet, shy guy who wanted to help... right?

Well... the day came when your doubts turned into something far more tangible, far more terrifying.

It was a cold night, and the streets were empty as you made your way home. The air carried a biting chill that seeped into your bones and the dim streetlights cast long, eerie shadows across the pavement. Ever since you’d left your friend’s house, you’d felt it—a presence just out of sight.

You kept glancing over your shoulder but each time, the street behind you was empty. It’s just paranoia, you told yourself, shaking your head and quickening your pace. Yet, as you crossed an alleyway, the feeling became undeniable.

Before you could react, an arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you back into the shadows. Another hand clamped over your mouth, muffling the scream that tore from your throat. The furry fabric of their jacket brushed against your skin as you thrashed, but your attacker’s grip was unyielding.

You kicked and struggled, panic flooding your veins like ice, but it was no use. They were too strong. Then, amidst the sound of your muffled cries and your heart pounding in your ears, you heard a voice calling your name.

“[Name]!!” His voice was desperate, the footsteps quick and unsteady.

Your eyes widened as you spotted him at the mouth of the alleyway—Kaito. He was dressed entirely in black, a hood obscuring most of his features save for a glimpse of raven-black hair; the slightest bit of his eyes showing through the strands; and his slightly parted lips as he caught sight of you.

You tried to cry out, but your voice was trapped beneath the stranger’s hand.

The desperation in his expression hardened into something colder, something sharp and dangerous. His usual timid demeanor seemed to melt away as he stepped closer, his eyes locked onto the man holding you.

“Let them go,” he hissed.

The stranger only tightened their grip on you, a mocking laugh escaping their throat, “And what are you gonna do about it, kid?”

He didn’t respond. His dark eyes flicked to the trash can nearby, and before you could even register what he was planning, he grabbed the metal lid. With startling precision, he hurled it at the attacker.

A sickening crunch followed as the metal lid struck the stranger’s face. They yelped in pain, their grip on you loosening as they stumbled backward and crumpled to the ground. You staggered forward, gasping for air as you clutched your chest, your legs trembling beneath you.

But he wasn’t done.

He strode past you without a word, his shoulders tense, his movements deliberate.

“Kaito?” You called weakly, your voice shaking.

He didn’t acknowledge you. Instead, he knelt down, retrieving the trash can lid. His grip was firm, his knuckles white as he raised it high above his head.

You watched in horror as the first strike came down with a nauseating thud, the sound of metal meeting flesh reverberating in the narrow alleyway.

You flinched. Then another blow came, and another, each one more forceful, more brutal. The crunch of bone and the wet, sickening sound that followed made your stomach churn.

Your body refused to move. You stood there, shaking, your breath coming in shallow gasps as tears welled up in your eyes. The sounds—the violence—it was too much.

“Kaito!” You finally screamed, your voice breaking. “Please... stop!”

Finally, the onslaught ceased. The silence that followed was deafening, save for your ragged breathing and the faint clang as he let the blood-soaked lid slip from his hands.

His pale skin were stained with blood, his dark hair matted to his forehead. His wide eyes, bloodshot and wild, locked onto yours.

But what sent a cold shiver down your spine was the smile that crept across his face—a smile too wide, too unnatural.

He giggled, a soft, unsettling sound, and began walking toward you. Instinctively, you took a step back, but your foot caught on a loose rock. You stumbled, falling onto the cold pavement.

He stopped in front of you and knelt, bloodstained fingers brushing against his knees as he tilted his head to observe your frightened features.

“There’s no reason to be scared anymore,” he murmured, his voice soft and almost comforting if it were not with the situation. “I already dealt with it.”

His giggle returned, light and playful, like he hadn’t just done something horrifying.

“W-Why?” You choked out, your voice barely audible. “Why would you do that?!” Your mind raced with questions, a realization dawning on you. “Kaito… were you… w-were you follo—” Before you could finish, his blood-soaked finger trailed gently across your cheek, silencing you.

The sensation made your breath hitch, and he chuckled at your reaction.

“I was expecting a thank you, you know? Not questions...” He teased, his tone light and cheerful. Then, he placed his hand on top of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he gently ruffled it. “Hehe! But you’re adorable! I think that’s enough…~”

You could only stare at him, your body trembling with fear and confusion. His grin never faltered, his eyes gleaming with twisted affection

As he stood, towering over you, he extended a hand. You didn't take it. You couldn't.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he pouted. "I'm not the bad guy here! You know that I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.” Perhaps those words were too literal.

It just seemed that no matter where you were, he’d always be crawling back to your side whether you like it or not.

⋇⊰MR. GAP⊱⋇

What an absolute jerk.

You couldn’t help but glare at the man standing in front of you, his pale skin making the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent. His wavy, medium-length raven hair framed his smug face, and that ever-present, arrogant grin made your blood boil.

“What’s the matter? Just going to stare at me? You want this book, right?” He teased, holding the textbook just out of reach.

His laughter was sharp, echoing in the quiet of the library. This guy, Sukima, was the worst. He was always around, always popping up when you least wanted him.

It was as if he lived to make your life just a little more inconvenient. Like right now—when the book you needed was on a high shelf, and just as you were about to grab the ladder, he appeared out of nowhere, snatching it before you could.

He did this constantly, not just to you, but to everyone. Most people had learned to avoid him, except for the new students who hadn’t yet seen through his charm. But for you and the others, his antics were old news. They had grown sick of him, and you were no different.

"Heeeey, my arm’s getting tired," he taunted, swinging the book playfully. "I might just put it back, unless you—"

Before he could finish that infuriating sentence, you swiftly kicked him in the groin, your foot connecting squarely with his vulnerable spot.

He let out a yelp of pain, doubling over and dropping the book. You caught it with ease, your eyes narrowing as you turned on your heel.

"Go mess with someone else," you spat, walking away without sparing him another glance.

You missed the way his grin faltered, replaced with a deep frown as he clutched his groin.

“That’s not very kind of you!” He called after you, his voice strained but still carrying that mocking tone as he tried to catch up. “I was doing you a favor, and this is the thanks I get?”

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt.

“I’m not some new student you can mess with,” you retorted, marching toward the librarian’s desk to check out the book.

"Why do you always assume the worst of me?" He's tone shifted slightly, but you weren’t having any of it.

He always played these games, always tried to twist things in his favor but you weren’t falling for it.

"You act like an ass, Sukima," you said bluntly, handing the book to the librarian. "What else am I supposed to assume?"

He chuckled behind you, his voice taking on that playful lilt again, "Well, maybe I'm just misunderstood. Ever think of that?"

You didn’t even bother responding as you took the book back and started heading for the exit. Yet, of course, he wasn’t done.

"I’ll see you around, you know," he called after you, his grin returning as he leaned against a nearby bookshelf. "I’ll pop back again~"

You sighed, not sparing a glance back at him, "I’m sure you will..."

Thank the heavens he wasn’t in your classes. If he were, you’d surely lose your sanity. Still, that didn’t mean you could avoid him entirely. Somehow, he always found a way to cross your path. Whether it was coincidence or intentional, you couldn’t tell.

If he was teasing someone else and spotted you, he'd drop them like a bad habit and rush over. The pattern had become so obvious that other students started using you as a shield, calling your name whenever he begans bothering them.

“Hey, it’s [Name]!” Someone shouted from the other side of the courtyard, and dread sank in your stomach like a stone.

Against your better judgment, you turned around. Sure enough, there he was—his lanky frame looming over the wide-eyed freshman.

The moment he heard your name, though, his entire demeanor shifted. He straightened, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, and started toward you with open arms.

“[Naaaame]!~” He called out in an exaggerated tone, giggling as he approached. “It’s been forever, hasn’t it?”

You shot him a glare. “It’s been a day, Sukima. Piss off.” You sidestepped him just as he was about to pull you into one of his infamous, unwanted hugs.

His pout was almost comical.

“Aw, come ooon,” he whined, flipping a strand of hair out of his face with dramatic flair. “Such a sunny day, and you’re so grumpy. Honestly, I’m doing you a favor by gracing you with my presence. And for free, no less!”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You look like you crawled out of a sewer. I’m doing you a favor by tolerating you.”

His gasp was theatrical, as if you’d mortally wounded him, “How cruel!” He cried, clutching his chest.

You ignored him and brushed past, determined to get to class on time. But just as you moved forward, you collided with someone else, nearly losing your balance as books tumbled to the ground.

“Ah, shit, I’m so sorry!” You blurted, crouching to help gather the fallen books.

“N-No, it’s my fault,” the other student mumbled, kneeling to join you.

His bangs obscured most of his face, but you recognized him immediately—a quiet guy from one of your lectures.

“Hey, I know you,” you said, handing him a book. “And seriously, don’t apologize. I’m the one who wasn’t paying attention.”

He blinked at you, his cheeks turning faintly pink as he accepted the books.

“Th-Thank you,” he murmured, bowing slightly before hurrying off.

You smiled softly, watching him leave, only to feel Sukima’s presence looming behind you like a storm cloud.

“See?” You said, turning to face him. “That’s how it should be—an apology and a thank-you. Not ‘you owe me one.’” You rolled your eyes, brushing past him again.

He scoffed, his grin faltering as soon as you turned your back. His gaze flicked to the other student, now disappearing into the crowd, and his jaw tightened.

He’d caught the way that guy looked at you—the faint blush, the soft gratitude—and it made something ugly stir in his chest.

Sukima never cared much for classes. They were a tedious obligation, forced upon him by parents who still clung to the belief that he could make something of himself.

His grades were just enough to keep him afloat, a fact he took little pride in. So, skipping wasn’t a big deal—it just gave him more time to focus on things that truly piqued his interest. Like that student.

He leaned casually against the wall in the shadowy corner of the hallway, his dark eyes scanning the crowd as students began trickling out of their classrooms. He spotted him easily, the boy with the long bangs and timid demeanor, standing out in his gaze like a sore thumb.

The student moved with quiet purpose, pulling a striking red umbrella from his bag as he prepared to step into the rain.

He smirked. That color is disgusting, he thought, the brightness almost mocking his preference for muted tones. Still, he didn’t follow. Not yet. He had learned patience in these situations.

If you followed too closely, people noticed. And he hated being noticed when he didn’t want to be. The way students veered away from him in the hallways, their whispers trailing after him, only made it harder to move unnoticed.

The rain picked up, pattering against the windows as the student stepped outside, the crimson umbrella unfurling like a blooming flower. Sukima lingered just a moment longer, his smirk softening into something unreadable.

He wasn’t worried about losing sight of his target. He knew this town better than anyone—its alleyways, its shortcuts, its cracks.

This was his playground.

Pulling his hood up to shield himself from the rain, he slipped out a glass doors, taking a roundabout route to intersect with the student’s path.

The streets were quiet, save for the soft drumming of rain and the occasional splash of tires through puddles. His footsteps were nearly silent as he moved, weaving through narrow alleyways with practiced ease.

He didn’t need to see the red umbrella to know exactly where the student was.

His sharp gaze locked onto the crimson umbrella as he reached the end of the alley. The brightness of it against the dim, rainy backdrop only served to irritate him further.

Hidden in the shadows, he toyed with the flick knife in his hand, the blade glinting faintly in the dull light. Without hesitation, he surged forward, closing the gap between himself and the student.

The boy barely had time to react. Their eyes met—wide, terrified against Sukima’s predatory calm. The umbrella slipped from his grasp, forgotten as his hand shot out, gripping him by the throat and slamming him against the wet brick wall.

"W-Wait—" The student gasped, his voice strangled as Sukima’s grip tightened. "If it’s money you need! I-I have some! Please—just let me go!"

His dark chuckle echoed in the narrow alley.

"Money? Do I look like I give a damn about that?" He leaned closer, his breath cold against the student’s clammy skin. "No, no. I want you to leave [Name] alone. Permanently. Understand?" His words were laced with venom, his smile unnervingly wide.

The student’s face paled further.

Panic flickered in his eyes as he stammered, "O-Okay! I get it! I swear I’ll leave them alone!" He writhed in Sukima’s grasp, desperate to free himself.

His legs kicked, his hands clawed weakly at the arm pinning him, but Sukima barely flinched.

The struggle was almost pathetic. Though the student was taller, his frail build was no match for Sukima’s wiry strength. His grin twisted further, his satisfaction palpable as he effortlessly deflected the boy’s weak attempts at resistance.

"No, no, no." He shook his head mockingly, his grip tightening enough to make the student wheeze. "Words aren’t enough for me. I need… assurance." His gaze dropped to the student’s trembling arms. With a flick of his blade, the sharp edge caught the faint light once more. "You won’t be needing that, will you?"

The student’s eyes widened in horror as his intent became clear.

"W-Wait! No, please—!"

But he wasn’t listening. The blade moved swiftly, slicing into the student’s arm. The rain mixed with the crimson flow that seeped from the wound. The boy screamed, a piercing sound that echoed through the alley as the knife tore through flesh.

He met resistance at the bone, the blade catching on it with a sickening scrape. The student thrashed harder, his screams turning into ragged cries of pain. Blood coated Sukima’s hand, slick and hot, but his expression remained cold, focused.

"You’ll live," he muttered, his voice devoid of any real emotion. "But I doubt you’ll ever forget this." He pressed harder, forcing the blade deeper, until the student’s strength finally gave out.

His body slumped, but Sukima’s grip held him upright, ensuring the boy couldn’t collapse entirely.

He looked down on the atisfied, he let go abruptly, allowing the student to fall to the wet ground. He knelt briefly, his voice soft yet dripping with malice.

"Remember this pain every time you even think about [Name]. Next time, you'd lose more than an arm."

What Could've Been Pt. 2/2» [WIP] Request» Masterlist»

[candycandy00]

The skeleton of an idea I had for a Kid x Reader fic. I might write a full version when I get time!

You’re a childhood friend of Kid’s. You were very close as children and he was very protective of you. He even said he wanted to marry you when the two of you grew up. 

After he left to become a pirate, you missed him terribly. You were excited to see his wanted poster, and you thought he looked so handsome. You’d always been in love with him. 

One day you decide you can’t wait any longer, you have to find him and ask to join his crew, even if you just cook or clean. So you go looking for him. 

You get kidnapped, and end up at a strange and terrifying “human auction” with a collar around your neck. They bring you out on stage to sell you, and you watch in horror as rich old men prepare to make bids.

As your eyes scan the crowd, you notice someone tall standing near the back. It’s Kid! You’d recognize him anywhere, even though it’s been years since you saw him last.

At the same time, Kid is watching the auctions out of morbid curiosity when you, a beautiful young woman, are brought out on stage. He jokes with his crew about buying you. But the longer he looks at you, the more familiar you seem. When you look at him, and your eyes meet his, he knows. He’s certain you’re the girl he loved years ago, the girl he wanted to marry someday. 

An older man is sitting a few feet away, talking loudly to his friend about how much he wants to buy you, shamelessly outlining all the depraved things he intends to do to you. He even laughs and says he loves to torture his sex slaves and watch them cry. 

The bidding begins, and you’re horrified as strange men keep placing bids while Kid remains silent. You look at him pleadingly, hoping he recognizes you. Should you call out to him? Just as you open your mouth to call his name, he suddenly places a huge bid that blows all the others out of the water. 

You’re so relieved, tears fill your eyes. 

Later, you’re taken to his ship. He’s walked right by you several times but hasn’t acknowledged you at all. You suppose he has an image to maintain in public, so you don’t do anything to jeopardize that. 

As for Kid, he has no idea what to do with you. He can guess why you came looking for him, but there’s no way in hell he’s letting you join his crew, where you’d be in constant danger and become wanted by the marines. 

His only plan is to pretend he doesn’t remember you and drop you off at the next populated island. In the meantime, he’ll be an asshole to you so you’ll never pull a stunt like this again. He’d much rather you hate him in safety than love him in danger. 

The first time he approaches you on his ship, in the privacy of his quarters, you run over to hug him. He doesn’t hug you back, instead lightly pushing you away. He denies knowing you, even when you tell him your name, even when you talk about things from your shared childhood. 

You know he’s lying and you tell him so, saying you came to join his crew, to help in any way you could because you miss him. 

His response is to tell you he doesn’t need you, he doesn’t remember you, and he’s dumping you on the next island. You argue, just like you did as kids. You’re not intimidated by him at all, even if he tries to act like a big scary pirate. You’ve known him too long for that. 

In frustration, and desperation to scare you away, he slams his hand into the wall beside you and leans down, looking as menacing as possible as he tells you to shut up and leave him alone. If you can’t be a good little slave, he’ll have his way with you. 

You blink up at him, heat rushing to your face as you give him a shy smile and say you’ve been hoping for that all along. 

He very quickly turns his back to you, swearing as he stomps out of the room. Out of your view, he curses himself for his own lack of control. He’s been with women before, one night stands during his travels, but he’s never been with someone he loves before. Now his face is red, like a damn virgin, at the thought of throwing you across his bed and fucking you until morning. 

That evening is torture for him, knowing the woman he’s loved for years is in his quarters, waiting for him, wanting him. He tries to resist, tries to avoid you and just focus on literally anything else. But, well, Kid is strong but he’s not that strong. 

He suddenly bursts back into the room, throwing off his captain’s coat as he goes. Within seconds he’s pulled your thin dress over your head and got you pinned against the wall, your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he plunges his huge, hard cock into your dripping pussy. 

You can only moan and whimper into his mouth as he kisses you, giving you everything you’ve been wanting from him. Hours later, after you’ve exhausted each other in many different positions, you’re lying in his bed, wrapped in his arms. 

He confesses that he never forgot you, that he never stopped thinking of you, but he still can’t take you with him. It’s too dangerous, and you’d end up being a weakness for his enemies to target. Reluctantly, you agree. He promises to come back and make you his Pirate Queen someday. 

The plan is to drop you off at the next safe island, but it’s at least a week away, and the two of you will thoroughly enjoy your time together until then. 

[pinkolve]

A Missing Lunch and Soft Kisses

Summary: Your boyfriend forgets his lunch at home so you decide to bring it to him.

Genre: Fluff only!

CW: A bit of social anxiety on reader's part, first person point of view, use of y/n, a little ooc Aaron Hotchner, a few little kisses <3

Word Count: 556 (very short, sorry!)

A/N: I wrote this really quickly just to have the motivation to post more stories here, so pardon any mistakes or poor word choice! Let me know if I missed anything that should be a CW, and if you'd read more fanfics written by me!! (I promise I usually write longer stories than this.)

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

I walk out of the elevator, looking through the glass doors that await me. There’s a brown paper bag in my hand and my bag is slung over my shoulder. I’ve never met any of Aaron’s coworkers, I’m nervous as to how the first impression will go. I originally wasn’t supposed to be here, this was never planned. Aaron and I haven’t even started planning an occasion for us to meet. If only he had remembered to bring his own lunch, I wouldn’t be here. 

I push open one of the glass doors and walk through. No one looks my way which is already a weight off my shoulders. I completely expected everyone to immediately stare at me, like they did in highschool when someone was late to class. I shiver at that memory. 

I start to walk past some desks and avoid any gazes sent in my direction. I obviously don’t recognize anyone. The nightmare is almost over as I reach the steps leading to Aaron’s office. I knock and wait for a response. 

“Come in!” He orders. I push open the door and watch as his face lights up at the sight of me. I push the door closed behind me. “Y/n! How are you doing, sweetheart?” He walks over to me and kisses my forehead, resting his hand on my hips. 

“You forgot your lunch.” I smile as I lift up the bag in my hand. 

“Thank you for bringing it all the way here.” He grabs it from me. “You know you didn’t have to do that.” 

“I couldn’t just let my man starve, now could I?” I blush at my own words. 

“Mm, how thoughtful of you.” He hums before kissing me again, longer this time. A knock interrupts us, pulling us apart. 

“Yes?” Aaron calls out and the door opens. His hand is still on my waist. 

“Hotch, I found-” A bubbly blonde woman stops mid-sentence. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you had company!” 

“Don’t worry about it, I just came to drop off his lunch.” I respond.

“Ah, well, it’s wonderful to meet you! I’m Penelope.” 

“I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you too!” 

“How have I never met you before?” She asks. 

“You know Aaron, he never tells anyone about his personal life. He’s been keeping me a secret for a couple years now.” I whisper. Aaron groans at me. 

“Honey, I was not ‘keeping you a secret.’ No one asked me anything about my love life so I never mentioned anything.” 

“Whatever you say.” I shrug. He rolls his eyes at me and smiles. 

“Do you ever believe anything I tell you?” 

“Depends on what it is.” I smirk up at him. I look back at Penelope and her eyes are wide. Her mouth hangs open as she stares between us both. 

“Are you two…?” She finally asks. 

“Yes, Garcia. We’ve been together for two years now.” Aaron chuckles. Penelope’s face stays the same. 

“Excuse me, I have to go talk to…Someone. Bye!” She practically runs out the door. I look at Aaron with a puzzled look. 

“She’s about to tell everyone in the bullpen about this whole thing.” He smiles. 

“She doesn’t seem like a very good secret keeper.” 

“Trust me, she is not.” He laughs, placing another gentle kiss against my lips. 

[pedrosyouknowwhat]

nena mala

Summary: After the fall of the godfathers, Peña takes his personally desired target.

Pairings: Dark! Javier Peña x Dark! Reader

Warnings: consensual turns to noncon, hate fucking, drug trafficker reader, probably very uncannon because I am in the first season but I needed to write this, reader is veeery horny, un protected sex (p in v), oral sex (f receiving), choking, slapping, arresting (?, fingering, creampie, if you dont know Spanish i can translate it for you, degradation, tell me if I missed anything.

You celebrated the fall of the godfathers; finally achieving a monopoly of the cocaine trafficking into USA. Your club boomed with people, some friends, some willing to change sides after events and some clueless of what was being celebrated.

You pulled the hem of your dress down as you slithered through the crowd, a bottle of expensive whiskey in one hand as men dragged their eyes over you; if only they knew how dangerous it would be for them to even try something. Escobar and those guys may be upfront, but you slipped through shadows and actually fucking knew how to launder money.

A gentle tap on your shoulder made you twirl on your heels, almost slipping due to the alcohol in your veins, and you came face to face with one of your guys. He leaned in to your ear, whispering discretely.

"Hay un chancho acá; del DEA."

Your eyes scanned the venue, squinting to see through the party lights until your gaze fell on him. Thick shoulders bulging from a thin shirt, tan skin and tell tale porn star mustache. Javier Peña, your darkest dream. He stood by the bar, dark eyes scanning around. Oh, how you wished that he would chase you too.

"Gracias." You whispered back, patting his back, before making your way to the bar. Smoothly, your perched yourself beside him, as if pretending to order.

"Gabriel," You called your bar tender, perhaps louder than you should. "Un caipi porfa."

It must had worked, because you felt him settle beside you.

"Isn't that bottle enough?" He teased, thick accent sending shivers down your spine. You realized you still had the bottle clenched in your hand, embarrassment slightly rose your cheeks.

"This goes back to the bar;" You lied through your teeth, placing the bottle in some confused bar tender's hand. "Gotta keep my establishment running."

You looked over your shoulder to him, towering over your back. A glimpse of understandment flashed through his eyes, and you could almost eat him up right there.

"Ah, so you work here?" He questioned, but it felt teasingly. His forearm propped itself next to yours.

"I am the owner." You clarified, grabbing the Caipirinha that was served to you as your voice slurred. The cold glass wet your hand, almost as much as he was wetting your thong. "La mujer de la noche."

You gave him the name of the bar in a singsong voice, shoulder gently nudging against his chest. Almost as if it was a signal, his free hand fell on your lower back.

"Then congratulation on the business," He chuckled, taking the drink from your hand confidently and sipping it. "Celebrating anything tonight?"

He nodded to your extravagant outfit, the little black dress that clung to your body and the golden jewelry. True gold, not anything the other girls around you had. A smile forced itself in your lips drunkenly, but you couldn't actually tell a DEA what you were celebrating, despite how your intoxicated and excited mind wanted to.

"Nothing special; I could dress up like this to do my gardening."

You felt so hot flirting like this; you wanted Javier Peña to notice you for years. You almost got jealous seeing him running around the Godfathers, and seeing his veiny hands up close made you wish he would bend you over and cuff you up.

"Then I'd really like to have you as a neighbor." He joked and you laughed, as if his DEA salary could ever afford a house next to your fucking Villa.

"You surely are better than the ones I have." You retorted. Your only neighbors were now in jail.

"They give you a hard time?" He asked, and you were devouring the amount of attention he was placing on you. You leaned in closer, chest now perked barely grazing under his pecs through the thin clothing between you, and you smelled his perfume; whiskey, cigarettes and eucalyptus.

"I'd probably say I give them a hard time, considering how they look at me." You bit, using the excuse of the loud music to get as close as possible. He looked down at you, and you almost could see his mind hesitating his response.

"Then why don't you take me back to your place and give them something else to look at?"

You almost squealed, but you had to kept your cool. You bit your lip, because you possibly couldn't take him home. It was a one way ticket to a tax evasion fine, and if he searched hard enough, you'd probably end up in the same place as your neighbors.

"Can't leave the club like this," You said, painfully, seeing disappointment in his eyes made you panic; you spoke quickly, fearing he could take it the wrong way. "but my office is free, and right upstairs."

You didn't play along the game, you had faltered, but Javier was so close to you, you couldn't even think properly. He looked surprised at your crassness, but the smile didn't falter from his lips, tucked beneath that dreamy mustache you wanted to feel scratch your skin.

"Lead the way then." He muttered, eyes dangerous. As you turned around, draping his hand over your shoulder, a grin plastered on your face.

You barely reached the stairs when he had spun your around and slammed you to the wall, lips pushing against yours. An arm slithered around your back as a hand gripped your ass, hard. You melted like jelly into his arms as he pressed his hard onto you.

"Come on," You whined, the second his lips left yours and begun sucking your neck. "I wanna sit on that big nose of yours."

You felt your cheeks blush instantly, but words spilled out of your mouth carelessly. He roared in laughter, so you just pulled him into your office.

He ferociously pushed you into your zebra print couch, falling along you. The fabric of his jeans dragged against your open thighs, zipper falling almost like a puzzle piece against your panty clad slit. You moaned at the feeling, soaking through so much you wouldn't be surprised if you had left a spot. A hand hiking up your dress, your tangling in his curls while the other dig your claws into his shoulder.

He pulled away and you almost whined at the loss of his body heat. However, as he slipped off your underwear you couldn't be less bothered. He eyed your cunt, hungrily as he spread your thighs further apart. Leaning over, he placed a kiss over your dripping slit before licking a stripe along. Your eyes rolled all the way back as a breathy, needy moan erupted through your stained lips.

He ate you like a man starved, playfully dragging his curved nose over your clit, as if making you remember your words. His tongue fucked into you, lips wrapped around your soft point, the alternation of events making you buck your hips wildly and his fucking mustache just rubbed perfectly against your mount. He brought you to the edge only to drag himself away from you and observe how you kicked your heels against the couch, clenching his hair tightly, attempting perhaps to get him closer.

"Gonna give you the good thing," He groaned darkly, fingers now working your heels off you, hastily. Once he got them off, he plunged two fingers into your weeping cunt, making your gasp at the sudden intrusion as a small sting formed around the stretch of his fingers. "Can't believe a fucking club owner has this tight of a pussy."

You ignored the sexism and stereotype in his words, eyes clenched shut as you babbled to his fingers scissoring in you. You heard faintly the sound of a zipper, and peered open to see. The well trimmed patch of pubic hair, the red big tip point angrily to the sky, a vein that traveled down his shaft. "Javi, please."

Javi; the nickname you had given him since you saw his handsome face on the TV, it made you giggle like a teenager every time you discussed him with your girl friends.

"I'm going, sweetheart." He hushed, and your heart swelled at the nickname. He took his fingers out with a faint pop from your wetness and you spread your thighs even further apart, if possibly. He smeared your wetness across his dick, giving it a few good-luck pumps. Your mouth salivated at the sight, and your hands slipped to undo the buttons of his shirt, desperate to touch more of him.

He slipped the tip in and your eyes watered, pleasure shooting through your core.

"Just fucking ram it in, Javier." You demanded impatiently. He snickered, hands gripping your hips before he shot you menacing look. Propping himself in his knees, he slammed into you.

You moaned loudly, head rolling over the edge as you stretched around him. No thick fingers could have prepared you for this; he grunted, letting you know he hadn't expected it either. In your brief glory, he leaned over your body, mouth slotting against your ear, nibbling in your lobe and whispering, seductively.

"Never told you my name, honey."

You felt as if a bucket of icy water had been thrown over you as shivers ran your spine and your eyes burst open. You attempted to laugh, mind thinking of an excuse as he dragged his cock achingly slow in and out.

"I-I know," You sputtered, hands perhaps holding so tight into his shoulder as if measuring your strength. "I have every-" he had plunged into you more deeper than he had done before, forcing a stutter. "everyone who comes into-into my club registered."

He hummed, continuing his tortuously slow pace. You felt your thighs clench against his hips, waiting his response. You felt slightly more relieved as he begun thrusting quicker.

"And the name of your club is so intriguing." He spoke through his groans, although his words were so concise they felt rehearsed. "The lady of the night; I heard that name in my job."

Fuck. No. Stop. Red flags bloomed in your temple as you froze.

"Care to hear the story?" He asked, but his tone wasn't like the questions he had asked down in the bar. He stopped his ministrations, perchance attempting to concentrate himself. "She's a drug trafficker that currently has two million pounds entering the United States from, guess where, Colombia."

Yeah. He had you. Panic took control as your body begun shivering, violently. You managed to push him off your ear, seeing his face. Your juices glistened against his mustache as his teeth formed an almost casual smirk; lit by the dim warm light of your office, his face was contorted into the most pleasured expression. You panicked, hands pushing against shoulders which barely budged. He tutted, lips still stretched as he easily overpowered your wrists in his clasp.

He called your name, in full, not even the name you had on the club paper and the people around you knew you by; your actual fucking name. "You lied to me, bebita."

His cock was still kissing your uterus, you were sure you were so tense you had clenched around him like a vice.

"You lied to me," He repeated. "you actually are fucking celebrating your competition's downfall."

Yep. Correct, Perhaps if you agreed he'd let you go.

"Get off me," You snapped, teeth bared. "I'll scream."

He cackled almost childishly, before letting his free hand cradle your cheek. The sudden tenderness felt off.

"You can scream all you want, got the fucking police outside." He muttered. "all I needed was a quick arrest; but you presented yourself so easily," He begun rocking his hips once again. "So I thought, why don't I take my commission for the head ache you have caused me?"

His hand left your cheek and fell to cover your mouth, seizing your your shaking jaw in the process. You closed your eyes, thoughts rushing to your now sober head. The air was filled with the squelching noise of his dick ramming in and out and his heavy pleasure groans. He suddenly sighted, as if savoring the moment, and his hands blindly turned your body around, pressing his barely dressed chest to you damp back. Your chest spilled from the armrest, and you took the opportunity as he held your hip with one hand and aligned his cock.

"HELP-"

His forearm slapped against your neck, bicep bulging against your cheek as he choked words out of your mouth.

"Careful there," He rasped, sheathing himself in. You whimpered at the new angle. "Don't make me do anything you wouldn't like, at least not so fast."

He began curling his hips into you, allowing you some breathe. Not that you could breathe well, his pace had become brutal, as if punishing you from every fucking gram you sold. The couch creaked as he placed all his hip strength in his thrusts. He panted like a dog, allowing thick moans to fill your ears.

"Nena mala, muy mala," He howled, pulling the straps of your dress down to grip your tits. Rough, calloused hands fidgeting with your nipples. "Just need some good cock to put you on your place, huh? un buen pito para esta putita?"

Hand on your tit, bicep choking you and dick all the way down to your abdomen, and you felt yourself clenching around him. As if he knew- he probably did, given by the short breaths he took- his hand fell down to between your legs. He found your clit easily, as if he had learned were it was, and rubbed it with the same pressure he was imprinting his cock into you. Too hard for your taste, but he was barely giving your the luxury of not choking your lights out.

No no no no, you though as you felt it. Sparking down from your chest to your core, forcing your muscles taut, sending more and more dampness around your bodies. With a wail you came around his cock, tears of humiliation spilling down your cheek and onto his tan skin.

It drove him wild, wild enough to stop choking you and hoisting your bodies up into the air, the hand that was pleasuring you rising to slap against your ass cheek as he rutted in wildly.

"Nena mala," He grunted as if that was the only thing running through his brain, punctuating his words with messy thrusts and sharp slaps to the side of your cheek. "gonna fucking teach you to behave."

Three final hits and he was holding down your lower stomach, pressing into you as hot ropes of cum painted your insides. He kept you like that for a while, and you felt crushed as he propped his weight in your shaky knees. His head came to lay on your shoulder and he suddenly was pressing kisses into your neck as a faux action of love. Your breathe hitched, sobs unable to properly escape as you hyperventilated. He produced a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, probably you had felt them when you groped his ass but chose to ignore it. He clanked them around your wrists, and you allowed him to before dropping you face first into the couch, with your dress still ridden up to your back and neckline still pulled down and cum still dripping into your legs and ass still stinging. He placed a cigarette over his lips as he zipped his pants up, shirt still torn apart.

"It's a pity;" He spoke, muffled as he lit the tip of the cigarette dangling from his mouth. "You are really pretty."

You craned your neck to look at him, taking a drag. Smoke circled around him as his body shined with sweat, your lipstick stained along his face and neck.

"But hey, the justice system is rigged; could get you out early if you behave for me."

[sissylittlefeather]

A House That Has Everything: Chapter 3

A/N: I'M BACK AND I'M BRINGING THIS ONE BACK WITH ME. I'm sorry it's been so long since I posted one of these, but here is chapter 3! This one came to me when I saw these amazing AI photos on Instagram made by @blackvelvetep and @_chiara975ep. (Be sure to check out their pages on Instagram!) My fic brain went crazy and this storyline was born.

Summary: Set in Regency England, Mr. Presley is the gentleman who owns and resides in Graceland Manor. Annabelle Martin is his newest maid after her parents have died and left her an orphan. Can he resist his affection for her, despite the difference in their social class?

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation (female & male), and some very sexy thoughts

Word count: ~2.5k

He doesn't even know her name.

******

It's still dark when Mr. Presley wakes from a light and fitful sleep. His dreams were filled with images of the maid, but he could never see her face. No matter how many times he turned her around, her face never appeared to him. His nightshirt is soaked in sweat and his hair is stuck to his forehead. He tries to go back to sleep, but is haunted by the same image again, so he decides to get out of bed. It's too early to wake his valet to dress him, so he pulls on some trousers and an unbuttoned shirt with a jacket. Running his fingers through his hair, he checks his reflection in the small glass. Inappropriate for a gentleman, but he doesn't have plans to see anyone.

He heads for the stables. Time spent with the horses usually relaxes him, but on his way he passes the library. Suddenly, he has an overwhelming need to go in and wait for the maid. She should be coming around to make the fire soon. Maybe he could apologize for his behavior yesterday. He wants to apologize for last night, too, but he would sooner die than admit to what he did. Completely forgetting how disheveled he is, he walks into the library to settle in one of the chairs with a book.

*****

Annabelle wakes at her normal time and dresses sleepily. Yawning, she collects the things she needs to tend the fires and starts on her daily routine. She thinks nothing of going into the library and does so without caution, like she's done every day since she's been there. Again, she's met with a surprise.

Mr. Presley sits in one of the large armchairs with his chin on his hand and a book in his lap. When she sees him, she gasps quietly and tries to turn and walk from the room.

“Wait, please, miss.” His voice is soft and kind, a startling contrast to yesterday morning when he yelled at her.

“Mr. Presley?” She cautiously walks towards him a little. He's an absolute vision sitting there in his unbuttoned shirt, his chest hair visible in the opening. For a second, she gets lost in thinking about touching him, but she quickly corrects herself.

“Come here.” He gestures for her to walk closer to him. She sets down her fire-tending supplies and walks over to him in the chair. In the time it takes her to get there, he stands up, his 6 foot frame towering over her 5 foot one. “What's your name?”

Her mouth drops open a little, both with the nature of his question and his tone of voice when he asks. He's gentle and sincere and it catches her off guard.

“Annabelle. Annabelle Martin, sir.” Before he can stop it, a small smile spreads across his face and he whispers.

“Annabelle.” She nods a little and he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure.

“I need to tend the fire, sir.”

“Oh, of course.” He gestures to the fireplace and she walks over to settle herself in front of it. She's keenly aware of his eyes on her as she works, but she can't figure out why he would want to watch her. It's quite distracting, him just standing there, and she slips and drops a piece of wood. She catches it, but she also feels a splinter dig into her finger and gives a small yelp. He drops to his knee beside her quickly.

“Are you alright?” She nods and looks up into his face. His eyebrows are pulled together in concern and he's so close that she can see his individual eyelashes. He really is beautiful and it kind of takes her breath away.

“It's just a splinter.” She holds her hand out and without thinking, he takes it in his softly. Her heart jumps with the subtle contact, but he seems to be focused on her injury. He leans down to look at the splinter.

“I think I can get it. May I try?” Their eyes meet again and this time it's his heart that skips.

“Yes, sir.” She whispers and they stare at each other for a beat before he looks back down at her pretty little hand and carefully extracts the small piece of wood. It takes him a couple of tries to get it fully, but eventually he does. He has an overwhelming desire to press his lips against her skin, but he holds back.

“There. Is that better?”

“Much. Thank you, sir.” He notices that her eyes are dark blue like the sky just before the sun disappears entirely.

“You can call me Elvis.” His voice is soft and kind and she feels like someone has poured warm honey inside her. But she shakes her head vehemently.

“Oh no, sir, I could never.” His heart sinks a little and he nods. She's right to refuse that lack of decorum between them. Still, he's overcome with a deep bitterness about the position he was born with. The money and status have their advantages, but he'd trade it all for the freedom to engage with people differently, especially now that he's met her. What would he give to be a simple farm boy right now?

“Right.” He stands up, turning away, and she finishes with the fire and then stands as well. His mood has darkened and she hopes it's not something she's done. She stands for a bit to see if he'll say anything, but he doesn't, so she turns to leave. Before she gets to the door she stops and looks back at him.

“I'm sorry if I offended you, sir.” He hangs his head and then turns to her.

“No. Sometimes I just wish… it's just…” He's not sure whether he should tell her the truth, but looking into her eyes makes it impossible to lie. “I'm quite lonely. And I forget that I'm not a person to you.”

Her heart breaks for him, all alone in this big house. There are people everywhere, but no one he can truly connect with. In this way, they have much in common.

“You are a person to me…” She pauses and then whispers. “...Elvis.”

He's shocked for a moment and then his face breaks into a smile that lights up her whole universe.

“Thank you, Annabelle.” She nods and then walks from the room. As soon as she's safely on the other side of the door, she leans back against the wall and closes her eyes, sighing deeply. Her heart is pounding and her hands are shaking. This cannot happen.

******

Annabelle goes about her daily business trying desperately to avoid running into Mr. Presley. She can't stop thinking about him, though. His soft eyes and smooth voice are constantly in her mind and she's started having dreams about him pulling her into his arms, propriety be damned. Several times she's woken up with such an aching between her thighs that she feels like she might explode. This is not how she needs to think about the man responsible for her livelihood.

Elvis spends his days doing his normal things, but he spends his nights whispering Annabelle's name into the darkness like a prayer. She consumes every open thought he has and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't trying to come up with another reason to talk to her.

One afternoon, he comes in from a meeting in town and is walking to his room to change when he hears something coming from one of the bedrooms. He quiets his steps and moves stealthily toward the door. Someone is singing a folk song in a beautiful soprano. The other maids don't sing while they work, so he knows it has to be Annabelle. He stands outside the door with his hand on his heart listening for a while. She sounds like a bird, hitting all the notes perfectly, her voice clear and strong. When she gets back to the chorus, he opens his mouth and adds the harmony.

Annabelle always sings while she works, so she doesn't think anything of it as she makes the bed. She barely even notices when another voice joins her song, but eventually she realizes it's a male voice, deep and smooth, and she freezes. When the sheet that she'd thrown out settles, she sees him standing in the doorway.

“You don't have to stop on my account.” He gives her a small and playful smile and there's a familiar heat between her legs. She swallows hard and tries to dispel the image of him throwing her on the half-made bed.

“I'm sorry to have disturbed you, sir.” She stands with her eyes wide like a bunny’s.

“You didn't. I was enjoying your song. This house needs some music.” He notices how nervous she seems and it crushes him a little. He'd been dreaming of the hint of familiarity she’d shown when he’d seen her last, hoping it might continue or even deepen. He walks a little further into the room and speaks softly. “Please don't call me ‘sir’.”

The quiet longing in his voice brings her out of her own head and back to a place of empathy. His wellbeing matters more to her than her own self-imposed discomfort. Still, she's not sure what to say next. What she really wants is to go to him and throw her arms around his shoulders, but that would be inappropriate on a level that even he would find shocking.

“Are you afraid of me?” He asks quietly, his voice edged with bitterness again.

“No, I'm not afraid of you, Elvis.” She whispers in return. And it's true. She's not afraid of him in the least. She's afraid of herself and her own desires.

“Good. I would like us to be…” He hesitates. Lovers? That's what he wants to be, but he could never say it. “...friends.”

She nods, not sure how she'll manage to control herself, but wanting to give him whatever he needs.

“We can be. I'd like that too.” He smiles again and she stifles a whimper. They stand there in silence for a few more seconds before he takes another step towards her and speaks.

“It is fitting that your name is what it is.” She looks at him curiously.

“Why is that?” He takes a deep breath and another step and continues.

“Bella means beautiful. And you are.” She tries to cover her sharp inhale by blinking, but he picks up on both and cocks his head to the side a little. Is he having the same effect on her that she has on him?

“Thank you… Elvis.” He decides to take a chance and walks directly to her, leaning inappropriately close to her ear.

“You're welcome, Bella.” As he pulls back to look her in the eye, the urge to kiss her is so overpowering that he has to turn away. He walks quickly to the door and disappears through it with such haste that she's left wondering if it actually happened. But the feeling in her stomach is undeniable.

He stops outside the door to steady himself, running his hand through his hair. Another second and he would've given in and had her right there on the freshly changed sheets. His head and his heart are both reeling as he tries to gather his composure.

Annabelle sinks onto the bed, her knees shaky and weak.

******

The small clock in her room reads 2:26am when Annabelle wakes with a whimper. Every time she closes her eyes, she's flooded with images of Elvis: his hands, his mouth, him ripping open her corset and pressing those perfect lips to places on her body that have never been seen by men. This time when she opens her eyes, her chest is heaving and the aching feeling between her legs is so strong that it's almost painful. Without thinking, she puts her hand there, holding herself and whimpering.

She's never been with a man in any way, having only kissed a few boys in the village, so the ways of pleasure are completely unknown to her. Still, her body seems to know what to do on its own as her hips begin to rock against her hand. A soft moan escapes her lips, but she needs more, more pressure or something. She looks around the small room, but of course there's no one there to see her. Her hand trembles, but she slowly slides it up her inner thigh under her nightgown. She's heard of women who experienced the delights of sin, but she never imagined herself to be one of them. Still, the ache is so strong that she almost can't stop herself.

As her fingers reach her center, the thought that Elvis could touch her like this explodes in her brain and her hips begin to rock again, her fingers slipping easily through the wet folds of her sex. If only his big hand was where hers is now, touching and teasing. She doesn't even realize that she's slipped a finger inside herself until she moans and adds a second one.

“Elvis…” She whispers in the darkness, her other hand clutching her breast, pinching her hardened nipple lightly. The image of his mouth on her drives her to pinch a little harder, pretending that it's his lips and teeth. She keeps her fingers pumping in and out as she rocks her hips and the other hand slides down her belly towards her center. And then she imagines his lips, his tongue, making their way down her body to this place that burns with need for him. She fumbles a bit, but it doesn't take her long to find a spot that makes her moan out loud and rub her fingertips over it with fervor. If only it were his tongue on this intimate place. The thought makes her clench around her own fingers as she rubs harder and faster.

“Oh God, Elvis!” She whisper-screams as the pleasure builds deep in her belly. And then she sees him on top of her. She knows from the other girls in the village what it means to make love and until now she never thought it sounded very pleasant. But right now, in this moment, she needs his cock inside her with a fire she didn't know was possible. Her mind is all lips and tongues and him moving his body against her, sliding in so deep, and before she knows it there's an explosion in her center and she bites her lip to keep from making too much noise. But she arches her back and bucks her hips and writhes as the pleasure overwhelms her and she pulses on her fingers and slows her other hand as the hardened bud softens.

“Elvis… yes…” She whimpers as she starts to come down from her high, sweating and panting. When she finally finishes, she lays in bed staring at the ceiling. Whatever that was, she needs to feel it with him.

Across the house, Elvis pumps his cock as the cum shoots out all over his hand and he moans.

“Bella…”

But it isn't enough.

******

Now what?

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

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