#i did so good w his face scars i wish body scars were as easy to make

[mattodore]

i downloaded the twitter font for this

[burnedbyshoto]

so sweet

— Well, you always knew Tamaki’s quirk was extremely versatile. You just didn’t expect him to be able to go this far. Or, a story in which you and Tamaki find out if he can manifest a pussy.

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pairing: amajiki tamaki x fem!reader

warnings: dom!reader, sub!tamaki, food play (whipped cream, strawberries), tamaki with a pussy, strap-on, spreader bar, blindfold, handcuffs, cunnilingus (giving & receiving), praise kink (giving), choking (giving), pwp-ish

word count: 4,037

a/n: day two of kinktober. i’ve been waiting for m o n t h s for a tamaki fucker to write this prompt, but no one had, so I did it. I have no regrets in writing this other than not making tamaki call reader mommy/daddy some shit like tht, but oh well. enjoy! remember to comment of fics you like :D

main kink: food play

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You never believed that aphrodisiacs actually manipulated one’s ability to get in the mood.

It just never made sense to you.

A natural ability to get your blood pumping, the hormones in your veins screeching blasphemy, stopping at nothing until a warm, dull, yet unignorable ache settled in your bones? No, it just seemed too easy. Especially with all the different quirks and abilities in the world, it seemed unnatural for people to even seek natural ways to get horny.

But still, upon being questioned by none other than Nejire about if you had ever incorporated food into your sex life with your fiance, Amajiki Tamaki, it finally intrigued you.

It intrigued you so much that you couldn’t help but bring it up one night after he had come home after a long day of work. His bed ready body sinking into the mattress beside you where you lay, reading multiple different articles on the sciences and best aphrodisiac foods. 

“What do you think about aphrodisiac foods?” came the inevitable question that passed through your lips as the man with soft raven hair pillowed into your side, his slitted pupil staring at you with mild intrigue, embarrassment, and exhaustion.

“They’re mostly unhelpful in battle,” Tamaki mumbles into your skin, the blush on the tips of his ears noticeable. 

Despite the history between the two of you, knowing that your soon to be husband still blushed as easily as he once did (sometimes over nothing) made your chest warm. “If I had to eat one from that category, it would definitely have to be oysters and honey.” Tamaki settles on his words with a content sigh. You have to resist the guilty flush at the back of your neck at his innocence of your inquiry. “Oysters because of the shell, and honey makes for a great defensive item and trap,” he adds a bit afterward, his calloused fingers running up and down your stomach, a gentle way of coaxing you into laying down with him. “Why?”

“No reason,” you smile down at him, your head pressing down to press a kiss to his temple.

But, both of you knew you were lying.

However, truth or not, it would be the question that would lead both of you to this very moment. 

Tamaki strapped to the bed, arms cuffed with black leather handcuffs, legs separated with a silver spread bar, eyes shielded from the world with a silk blindfold, and an arrangement of covered bowls sitting patiently around him, untouched, unused.

“How are you feeling, bunny?” you coo, your lips pressing gently to the insides of Tamaki’s trembling thighs. 

There’s no response, just more trembling thighs, a slight shift in his back as he adjusts himself, but you continue to press warm, painted kisses against the inside of his thighs. Tamaki’s pitched breathing continues to push higher and higher, the small, unavoidable stutter in his voice hitched, almost hiccuping as he nods his head. 

“Use your words, bunny,” you mumble against his skin. Pretty painted lips pressing trailing kisses up his thigh, your nose pressed into the crevice between his crotch and his thigh, delighting in the pure, unrestrained moan that falls from his mouth. He shakes underneath you, the growing needy noises of his unrestricted lust sending growing fires down towards your own cunt, singing blissfully about just how much he wants this. “I can’t move on until you use your words,” you try again, watching as his head nods pathetically, his bottom lip flushed red from his teeth assaults.

“T-This feels good,” Tamaki shudders, his body shaking under your change of movement, obviously liking how your lips press to the scars on his stomach, your fingers drawing lazy, imperfect circles around his cock head that’s weeping with precum. “I want more, butterfly, please g-give me m…ahhh... more!”

 “What do you want more of?” you hum, your lips tracing up his chest, stopping against the popping vein on his neck, your teeth-baring softly onto the vein as he curses the gods upon the contact. Your hand circles around his cock, the ridiculously hot length throbbing against your hand, and with a breathy chuckle, you grip his cock at the base. "More teasing? More alone time? What does my little bunny crave?”

“Everything you p-promised!” Tamaki curses, hips thrusting upwards into your hands, rubbing blindly, desperately into your expecting fist as your tongue stripes up the length of his chin. “P-Please, butterfly, I want everything you told me what you would do!”

It wasn’t quite the answer you were looking for, but you knew what to expect from Tamaki subbing. The growing wet patches on the blindfold emphasize that you couldn’t push too far, or else it would be over before it began.

“Which food would you like first?” you asked, deciding to push ahead, bringing the covered bowls to your side. You adjusted so that you were straddling his torso, smiling when he whimpered at the feeling of your hot cunt against his body. 

“W-Whipped cream,” he breathed so quietly you almost missed it. Smiling to yourself, you grabbed the small cylinder container and focused your attention on his light brown nipples and prominent collarbone. 

“Whipped cream it is,” you tease, your head stretching down so that your lips pressed two painted and wet kisses over his hardened nipples, and the soft, sugary moan that passed his lips in result nearly made you abandon this entire scenario altogether. 

This was just for initial contact, to wet his skin, you had to repeat in your head as your tongue flicked over his warm nipple, his hips snapping up into the abandoned air as you slinked forward to press light, intentioned kisses to his collarbone.

Right as his bitten ruby red lips opened to demand something more from you, you pressed the canister to his abandoned nipples and allowed the application of the sticky wet and white sugar onto his body. Your teeth continued to nibble on his collarbone as you did this, watching his every reaction — little and big — in an attempt to see just how much he liked it. 

When you finally pulled away, you made sure to leave with a loud pop, smiling at the loud whine that escaped his lips when you sprayed the food against his collarbone. 

“Imma lick it off now,” you explained, fingers raking just hard enough to leave a trail of goosebumps as you planted your ass onto his throbbing, hard cock. “Do you want to watch?”

“I d-don’t—” he hiccuped, breathing erratic, face dangerously red beneath the blindfold. “I don’t know!”

“Okay, no worries, bunny,” you coo, fingers stroking his wet cheeks. “I’ll let you test it out. I’ll lick the first one off without you looking, and you’ll tell me how you like it, okay?”

“T-That sounds good,” he agrees, and you waste no time.

Your mouth envelopes his sugar covered nipple, the sweet thickness of the cream being swallowed in your mouth as you push even further. Tamaki cries beneath you.

Humming, your tongue laps at the sticky sugar on his skin, the salty taste of his skin, and the sweet of the sugar invading your taste buds. You do your best to hold him down, your teeth taking his pebbled nipple in and tugging on it until the light brown color of his nipple turns red until he’s rutting senselessly and desperately into your clothed cunt.

Desperate and needy for more. 

Your fingers dive beneath the breast of his chest, teasing the muscled valley as you continue lapping his nipple into overstimulation.

“The next one!” he wheezes. “P-Please, butterfly, the next tone!”

“Do you want to watch?” you ask, stupidly addicted to the way his nipple tastes in your mouth. “Wanna watch me suck your nipple?”

Tamaki shakes his head frustratedly, longingly, “I can’t, it’ll make me cum!”

You almost feel sorry for him.

You perform the same exact thing to his other nipple, teeth tugging at the sensitive skin, tongue swirling the throbbing skin in your mouth until he’s begging for something more, anything more. You sticky fingers taking his other swollen nipple, pinching and pulling it until he can only mantra your name. You wish you were strong enough to deny him, but the rutting against your covered cunt, the delicious sultry whines, and breathy moans and tears that stream down his face is too much for you.

You’re up off his torso, your fingers ripping off your panties with reckless abandon.

Tamaki’s breathing is heavy, almost delirious as your fingers tug down the silk blindfold, so it's fallen to his neck. It sits around his skin, wet and shiny. But Tamaki’s tear-soaked eyes are scrunched closed when your lips suddenly press to his.

Chapped, swollen, and hot lips quiver against yours, so nervously, so messily, you’re nearly kissing just his teeth. 

“I needa—” he pants, his head tilting to that your nose meets his mouth. “I needa cum, butterfly, please.”

You hum, a bit disappointed in the relatively quick ending of your kiss, but you pulled away. Twisting around, your arm stretched out, and you went into an abandoned bowl. Tamaki watched you like a hawk.

With a hammering heart, and heat pulsating through your entire body, you turned your head to look at him. It was slow, methodic, and seductive, and Tamaki’s teeth found his bottom lip once again as you met his eyes through hooded eyes. 

“Open up, bunny.” 

Obediently, Tamaki’s mouth opened, and you brought your hand to his line of sight, and clutched between your warm fingers was a bright red strawberry covered in white, sweet cream. “Eat it quickly,” you drawl slowly as you press the strawberry to his lips, smiling slowly when the white cream covers his equally red lips. “I have an even better dessert after this.”

The gulp from his throat sent a maddening, delirious shiver down your spine.

And he devoured it without a moment of hesitation.

Licking the remaining cream on his lips, you giggled when he gasped against your tongue, and you moved.

Pushing up off the bed, you felt power thrum through you as his eyes darkened in lust and his still growing need as you gently pressed his forehead to the mattress. His breathing seemed to stop as the two of you stared at one another, like a prey looking eyes with a predator, knowing the inevitable outcome of the nearing events.

“Don’t disappoint me,” you tease, lowering yourself to his eagerly awaiting mouth.

The moan that poured through your spine was nearly immediate; the feeling of his cold tongue and wet lips pressing against your slick covered cunt was exhilarating as it was relieving. Your eyes instantly rolling to the back of your head when his strawberry coated tongue pushed through your swollen lips to lap at your pulsating core.

A breathless, whining sigh escaped your lips when Tamaki’s nose carted between your folds, the tip of his nose brushing against your sensitive clit, and you rotate your hips in your content.

“Yes, bunny, just like that. Eat my pussy just like that!” you cry in joy, your fingers pushing your breasts free from your bra to pull and tug at your attention-demanding nipples. “You eat me out s-so good, pretty little mouth, slutty little tongue.”

At the mention of slut, Tamaki moaned deep within you, his tongue vibrating in your core with his verbal appraisal, and your toes curled at the alluring sensation. 

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you began to rock your hips faster against his face, your chest puffing with pride when Tamaki’s hands banged against the restraints, a telling that he wanted to touch you, and the stupid, soft, needy gasps passed into your core only drove you on further. A whimper went through you when you leaned slightly forward, your clit unapologetically pressing against his nose, and the electric stimulation coursing through your body with that alone had your toes curling. And the pressure in your lower belly was only growing more and more.

His tongue continued to lap within you, the nearly greedy slurps he took with your growing aggressive rutting making you sing his name in praise and encouragement. Amajiki Tamaki was many things, and his ability to use that tongue was a higher skill of his you personally enjoyed. 

“Taste so good,” Tamaki babbled from beneath you, his mouth latching onto your clit. “So, so good.”

It’s the moment his teeth sink against your clit that you slam forward, hand banging against the wall to steady you as an orgasm rips through you, the shriek on your tongue echoing off the wall. 

All is silent for a bit as you roll off your fiancé's right side who is panting heavily, his eyes closed as he breathes in steadily, the shine of your slick on his face bright under the dim lights of the room. You blink as you stare at him, the serenity on his face from making you cum without a doubt the cause of it, but you weren’t done with this night.

Not yet.

“Bunny?” you whisper questioningly against his pointed ear, grinning slowly as the tip flushes red and goosebumps flash across his skin. 

“Y-Yes?” Tamaki stammers, his eyes screwing tighter instead of opening.

A sugar-sweet giggle is unable to be stopped as you press forward, your teeth nibbling on his ear just hard enough that the sound Tamaki makes is a cross between throbbing lust and gently pain. He trembles as he does so, and you can’t help but swell in the thought that right now, especially as he shakes, he looks like a defenseless, needy bunny.

“I want to see you try it now,” you request, your left hand supporting your head, and your right hand tracing a single finger down his twitching abdominal muscles until it reaches his weeping cock. You grasp his throbbing cock firmly, contently studying the way he resists against his restraints as his back arched off the bed, hips blindly thrusting into your fist. “I want to see you manifest a pussy, bunny,” you nearly whine as your grip on his cock only tightens.

“A-Ah!” Tamaki cries, his face flushed a dark red. His hips instinctively rut up to your grasp, but you’re smart enough now, and you follow it, denying him the friction he so craves. “I-I-I can’t!”

“Why not?” you pout, drawing even closer to his blushing face, smirking when you could feel the pulsing blood in his face radiate off onto you. “Why won’t you try for me, bunny? I know you can do it! You’d look so cute with a pussy like mine, so tight, so wet, so… sweet.”

Tamaki splutters when your tongue swipes against his lips, and he still tastes of you and strawberries.

So sweet.

“Do it for me, bunny, I wanna see it…”

“W-What if I can’t?” Tamaki almost sobs, and you warm at his words.

“Then I’ll ride your cock until your cock is bruised, and I’m pregnant with your kids,” you promise, your lips pressing against his despite the obvious whimper on his tongue.

Then, you felt it.

The cock in your fist began to change. Warm energy emitting from where his cock once was as you pulled away from his quivering lips to look at the pretty pink pussy that manifested where his cock once was. It was void of pubes, looking as smooth as a baby’s butt, and was absolutely soaked.

If you thought you’d had heard the pitchiest squeak coming from Tamaki’s mouth before, it was nothing like this when he too took a look at his pussy.

“O-Oh my god,” he breathlessly whispers, and you feel a thrilling sensation rock through your entire body as you’re now much more focused on the gleaming cunt on your fiancés lower body. 

In an almost trance-like feeling, you had the spreader bar in your fist and slammed it up to his face so that he could hold it. The simple action allowing Tamaki’s fully formed cunt to spread open for you in all its soaked glory. The smell of his sex alluring and almost spicy as you found your tongue shoved all the way into his awaiting cunt, and he howled.

A wordless command passed through your body as you let go of the cold spreader bar to Tamaki, who held it above his head as if it was his lifeline. You took sloppy, loud, and aggressive licks and sucks o his sweet essence, moaning at the copious amount of slick that easily poured from his cunt that throbbed like a vice around your tongue.

You wanted more from him, you craved more for him, and before you knew it, your fingers were curled above your tongue. You could feel the puffiness of his inner walls, and you delighted more when his clit against your nose throbbed with vivacity. 

“Y-Y/N!” Tamaki all but screams as you drunkenly drink his sweet essence, delirious on the taste and the sounds he was making. “My stomach — fuck, fuck, fuck — my stomach feels so funny! It’s feeling so-o aahhh, oh my god, so tingly!”

And you rip away.

Your eyes are owlishly large as you stare at the now writhing with discontent Tamaki who was crying with the unknowing need to cum.

He was close, you realized, so fucking close.

“Don’t leave me!” he shrieked as you tumbled off the bed, your legs feeling weak with your growing euphoria. “Finish what you started!”

A chuckle rips through your body as you pull up the harness that was hanging by the nightstand.

“Oh, I intend to, bunny.”

With a loud zipping of fabric, Tamaki’s head snapped upward to look at you, and you smiled knowingly.

His eyes were red and swollen with his tears, his face red as you’ve ever known, and his exposed cunt (which was still exposed as his hands pathetically still held onto the spreader bar) was soaking the bed with his essence, but he couldn’t even bear to feel embarrassed.

Why?

Well, strapped to your hips, and supported around your thighs was a pretty pink harness with a massive, veined, curved, cum spilling dildo attached to it.

“Do you like it?” you ask innocuously, your finger pressing to your bottom lip.

He can only gulp.

“I think,” you start off slowly, crawling back onto the bed to sit right before his exposed cunt. Your hands move to the cuffs on the spreader bar to slowly release his ankles from the restraints. “Well, I just love when you cum deep within me… and your cock is so big, so good, I just had to repay you for always fucking me so. fucking. good.”

“B-Butterfly!” he keens as you allow his legs to drop to the sides of you, and you sit up off your knees, placing the head of the dildo between his pink lips. His head falls to the mattress, his back arching as you continue to slick the dildo up with his dripping slick. 

“Hm?” you answer, looking into his dark, glazed over eyes. Your hips, however, continue to shallowly thrust against the folds of his pussy, coating the pink silicone with shiny slick. A lazy smirk falls on your lips at the sight of his red face. “What do you want, Ta-ma-ki?”

“Fuck me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

With one hand guiding the head of the pink dildo into his pink, quivering cunt, and the other on his trembling thigh, you pushed through his tight entrance.

The moan that bubbled past Tamaki’s lips was near-pornographic as you as calmly as you could, pushed all the way in. You allowed Tamaki to adjust to the cock in his cunt, undoubtedly new to the sensation that having a thick, long cock buried deep within your cunt felt like. His hands, still bound to the headboard, were clawed in his sensual pleasure, and you enjoyed the way his eyelids fluttered, his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

His hips twirled against the dildo, and you looked down, truly fascinated with the way his pussy squeezed around the strapon that you imagined as an extension of yourself. Imagining the sensation of his cunt against your strap, the heated slick of his cunt, and you felt your own heat blazing down your inner thighs.

“So cute, so pretty,” you purr, your hips falling back before softly thrusting back into him.

The sight of the dildo disappearing into his cunt is inconceivable, and despite his choking, gasping breaths, you pull out and thrust back in. 

Again.

“Oh.”

Again.

“O-Oh my—”

Again.

“Y-Y/N!” Tamaki wailed as suddenly your hips were thrusting into him, delivering the pretty pink dildo all the way until you felt the natural barrier of his cervix. But you were hooked on this power. The dizzying sensation that boiled deep within your bloodstream as Tamaki thrashed beneath you.

Your fingers dug into his thighs, pressing his knees into the mattress as you pressed up, allowing for the new angles of gravity to help thrust down heavier, harder, faster.

“Such a sweet, perfect pussy,” you gasp against Tamaki’s sweaty, exposed neck. “You’re so good, bunny, so tight and cute around my cock. Do you like my cock? Do you like the way it feels to be stretched out like this? To be fucked to irrationality? This is how you make me feel all the time, bunny. You understand that I needed to repay you, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Tamaki cried, the babbling yes’s growing louder and continued as you continued to drill into him, the squelching of his pussy, and the slapping of your thighs on his ass coming together to play a symphony only the two of you would know.

His hiccuping sobs are stopped when your fingers blindly snatched a strawberry from the nearby bowl, shoving it within his mouth. You drink in the way the flesh of the berry breaks against his lips and the way he sloppily, almost pathetically eats it from your fingers. The sticky sweet red juices spill past his lips, dribbling down his chin as he attempts to eat it, and you lean forward, licking the juices that escape his mouth clean off his skin.

You trail up, kissing, licking, and biting every piece of unattended flesh, and with your fingers still in his mouth, you kiss him.

“My stomach!” Tamaki cries against your tongue and fingers. “It feels — r-right there — it feels tingly! Like it's on.. ahhh, on fire!”

“That’s a good thing, bunny,” you swear, your hips powerful, sharp, and delivering upon every fantastic dick down he had ever given you. Your free hand reaches for the blindfold that went ignored for so long around his neck, and with the renown power of being a pro hero, you tightened it around his throat, choking him of his mindless babbling, making him arch off the mattress. “That means you’re gonna cum, cum for me, bunny, cum. Cum and I'll fill you up with my cum too, you'll look so cute with my cum dripping from your cunt, wouldn't ya, bunny?”

And then, it happens, Tamaki’s teeth bite down on your fingers, eyes crossing and rolling to the back of his head. His body going rigid for a second before massive trembles shake through his entire body, and the unfamiliar whirring of the dildo informs you that it caught onto his orgasm. In return, it hums as fake cum spills from the dildo, splattering into Tamaki’s pretty pink cunt.

His body trembles as he collapses completely against the mattress, and you can only stare after him, your own breathing scattered and shallow as he seems to be transcending from his body as he lays there. Bliss painted in every corner of his body.

You move out, letting the massive dildo escape his tight cunt, and you’re pleased when the white cum slowly seeps from his slit.

It was then that you realized just how extremely lucky you were to be marrying someone like Tamaki, and you paused, thinking about just how many things the two of you could now do.

Oh yeah, this was definitely going to be a journey.

[inkedtae]

orange tree ⇾ knj, kth. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ ares!namjoon x mortal!reader (f.) x apollo!taehyung

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ greek god au, established relationship (w/namjoon), smut, pwp, filth, poly au, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶��𝓎 ⇾ he built you a pathronon but you would like to expand its patrons… at least just for the evening.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 7.4k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!namjoon, tattooed!namjoon, silver mullet!namjoon, dom!taehyung, blonde mullet!taehyung, sub!reader, a lil bratty!reader, rough sex, public sex, outdoor sex, angry sex, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), humilition kink, size kink, pain kink, jealousy, threesome, overstimulation, degradation, double penatration (in one hole), exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, oral (m. and f. receiving), deep throating, cockwarming, choking, manhandling, body worshipping, pussy worshipping, basically reader worshipping, pussy slapping, cum eating, clit biting, spanking, teasing, begging, spit play, breath play, breast play, pretty much an ungodly amount of filth :)))

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ i’m a hoe :))

❧ banner by ⇾ @kimtaehyunq​ (thank you so much friend~)

❧ beta’d by ⇾ @nottodayjjk​ and @uhgood-dooghu​ (a million thanks to these cuties~)

❧ le playlist

⟶ commission for @jamaisjoons through ChangesWithLuv, supporting BLM

Beyond the holy village of Barthes, within a meadow of sun dropped marigolds, you lounge topless underneath an orange tree. Cool winds cut the late summer heat. The breeze hardens your nipples and prickles your exposed skin with goosebumps. Hair tousled, you bite into another orange slice. He did not care for citrus, until he tasted your lips. Then, he planted you an orange tree. He promised you good fortune and a long life. 

“You will want for nothing,” he told you. “Just, behave.”

Behave. A word he’d used often with you. Jaw tense, he’d hiss the warning while fondling your breasts or cupping your sex. When he is furious, he is boundless. He fucks like a titan, remnants of a gracious god completely withering away. Tight grips, rough pounds, and seething threats that promise such painful pleasure, Kim Namjoon is a red hot planet of sexual destruction. So angry, so lustful, he serves you a cockful of discipline and then some. You are helpless. To his wrath, you are subjected. But, you don’t mind. The truth of the matter is, your body is always alive when buried under his. 

“You’re a minx,” a deep voice states behind you. 

You sit up, fruit juice trailing down your arm. Lips in a pout, you gaze up at the tall man behind you. Blonde hair, symmetrical face, sharp collarbone, broad chest and - he smirks - and, oh so sinister. How could a delicate smile be so devilishly sincere? And he brands you a minx… what does this handsome man know of you? How long has he been watching? Swallowing your bite thickly, you try and fail to fathom his beauty.

He pushes himself off the tree trunk and circles around you. His eyes dance around the thin, red blanket, the array of fruits, and braided loaves by the wicker basket before trailing up your exposed legs. A shiver snakes around your curves. The way his eyes devour you makes you think he did not stumble upon this hideaway accidentally. Namjoon took extensive measures to ensure no one would. No, this man knows. He must. Why else would he not question your presence alone under the only tree? He accepts it, expects it. 

Pushing your sticky arms around your breast, you attempt to somewhat conceal yourself and ask, “Are you a traveller?” 

He shakes his head. The wind plays with his hair the moment the sun emerges behind heavy clouds. Its natural glow lights up his figure, in all its holy glory. Well-toned, pierceless, inkless, chiseled features are all too accurate to be human. He is pure. There is very little scarring on his skin as well. He looks down right angelic, prophetic, utterly godly. 

Has Namjoon really entertained your fantasies? You first made the suggestion off hand, completely innocent in your phrasing, until his face fell. Stone fierce gaze slicing through your soul, you couldn’t help but describe an ocean’s worth of desires involving more than one man by your side. You were fucked to tears against the tree until it’s branches were bare and the ground was covered in ripe fruit and loose leaves. You thought that would be the end of it. But now, as you carefully stare at the god while he shamelessly sips on your near nakedness, you wonder just how wrong you might have been. 

“Have you come to watch?”  

“To worship.”

Your arousal slicks your thighs. Pressing your legs together, you suppress the giddy shivers that caress your spine. Though excited, you really can’t believe Namjoon did it. It was a joke but, scanning the sun god’s frame once more, you’re glad he didn’t take it that way. Face flushed, you lie back in your previous position. On your side, breasts on full display, you toss your hair aside. As your lips part to question the details of his intentions, you catch a familiar silhouette by the sea, in the distance. Flickering your gaze between the two men, you wonder if this new god was sent to test your loyalty or limits? The figure nods. You smile.

Attention returning to the golden god, you ask, “Apollo, is it?”

“Taehyung,” he corrects.

“Is that the name you prefer I scream?”

He pauses. Those mismatched eyes widen at your intrepidity. Dazed in confusion, he scans your frame once again, as if reprocessing your presence. He’s underestimated your wits, you realize, but the newfound understanding in his eyes reassures you that it won’t happen again. Good. He’s a quick learner. 

Quirking a brow at the blanket beneath you, he asks, “May I?”

You nod once. He licks his lips twice, bites on the bottom one, then seats himself beside you. On his side, bare chest on display, he takes in the scenery from this new angle. Flowers bloom under a peachy dawn, and the vast fields of greenery wither to sandy shores where the sea waves as a way of greeting. His cocky stare lingers on your boyfriend before settling back to your little shrine underneath the orange tree. It’s a parthenon all on its own, with you as the center of its divinity. This detail seems to intrigue him more than it should, but you assume it might also have something to do with being watched. 

Taking his hand in yours, you feel the dimming warmth of the setting sun. Who’s manning the chariot, you wonder, and would he be willing to let you ride it? Your bones tremble beneath your flesh at the impression of a distant growl. Oh, right. You almost forgot Ares can read your mind. Being something of a soulmate, he’s connected to you in ways other gods are not. Another growl slices through your thoughts. Jealousy sounds so good on him. Hearing his frustrations, knowing he’s enjoying the way you indulge, flusters the anxious bundle of nerves at your core. 

Taehyung chuckles. Inches away now, his hot breath fans over your cheek. Fingers trailing up from your hand, along your arm then to your neck, he wraps his hand around your throat. He presses his thumb in the divet just under your chin, teasing a choke but never actually going through with it. You wonder what Namjoon must be hissing by the sea. What kind of curses is he throwing? Just picturing his furious eyes and cliffed jaw tickles the pit of your stomach. 

“You’re precious,” Taehyung whispers, lips pressed against your chin. “I understand why he hides you from us.”

Us? Olympus knows of your blasphemous citrus temple? Usually, this kind of revelation would grant you a lightning bolt to the heart and an eternity in Tartarus. Only this wakes something different in Taehyung. His breath shallows, erection pokes at your thigh. He’s aroused by the idea of worshipping someone as powerless as a mortal. Or perhaps, you wonder as Taehyung nibbles on your skin, he simply adores displaying his power. Either or, you decide to make the most of what your Ares has granted you. Gaze finding his broad frame again, you let out an exaggerated gasp. 

Namjoon flinches. However, it isn’t until you press your body against Taehyung’s that he cringes. He shifts his weight, fist clenched by his sides and you swear you can see steam hovering over his head. Namjoon is livid. But, Taehyung is oblivious. Too consumed by your pleasure, he tightens his grip on your throat and trails his open-mouthed kisses down to your breasts. Nipple between his teeth, Taehyung groans in hunger. Tongue teasing, he licks to play, not to soothe any of the stings. Your toes and legs hook around his waist. Hips rolling, you tease a preview of what you have in mind.

Taehyung shifts half an inch away though. You know it’s not because he didn’t enjoy the gesture, the throb against your hip reassuring you just how much he would really enjoy it. It still hurts your pride, however. Twinges of humiliation taint your soft features. He offers half a smirk as a means of comfort. 

“He told me you’ve got quite a mouth.”

Is that an excuse or explanation? In both cases, it’s weak. He traces your face, fingertips so soft you almost forget the indirect rejection. Charming, his tiger starved gaze reflects hints of amusement. You’re easy prey, a fact that crumbles your courage. He is not here to coddle your pride, to serve the goddess of this naturous parthenon, but rather to obliviate it. A pitiful pile of pleasure is all he wishes to make of you. Though, now you wonder, is he doing this because he wants to, or because he’s ordered to? 

Eyes darting between Apollo and Ares, you swallow thickly. The wondrous glow in Taehyung’s gaze makes you pause. Perhaps you’ve been too hasty. Perhaps they were both counting on that. The humiliation returns ten fold and prickles your skin upon realizing how careless you have been. Too quick to show your keen interest in devouring a different dose of daylight, you did not make Taehyung work as hard as he should’ve. And knowing that must have been what Namjoon was expecting only festers your heart with anger. This isn’t an opportunity to indulge, you conclude, but to reprimand. The both of them want to sip on your submission. The role of a meek mortal amuses them more than it should. It turns you on more than it should. So, you pull away more than you should. 

Laying back on your elbows, you redirect your gaze to the sky. You can feel both pairs of eyes studying you. Taehyung props himself up on his forearm and looks over at your suddenly calmed features. It’s almost as if you’ve never exchanged a word at all. 

“Funny,” you restart, all cards hidden this time. “He never mentioned you.” 

Angry, confused, perhaps both, Taehyung stares. He blink, blink, blinks before he fully registers what’s been said. You can feel Namjoon’s delight though. The pride he has in the way you sassed a rival resonates deep in your core.

As you shimmy out of your dress, Taehyung finally scoffs a chuckle. You attempt to ignore the way it lights your soul with desire and focus on Namjoon’s silhouette. He looks closer, lurking by the tall grass, though still near the sand. Fully naked, you try to school your features and pretend you don’t notice the way Namjoon’s jaw clenches while Taehyung’s falls slack. Your hands rests on Taehyung’s bare thigh long enough to make him shudder and your boyfriend growl. It’s almost all too easy to push Namjoon’s buttons. He hates it when you do something simply because you can. 

“You abuse your power,” he always tells you. 

And, with a smile, you always reply, “I don’t abuse anything, Joonie. You just can’t refuse it.” 

Taehyung seems to prove this statement now, falling prey to the way you toy with him. Half focused, you’re paying enough attention to him to feel his frustration. Displeased with the way you have your eyes glued on the god of war, Taehyung huffs and inches closer. 

“Do I need to plant you an orange tree?” he teases. Well, he attempts to anyways. The resentment in his tone seeps through instead. 

You bite back a smirk. “You can try.”

His eyes flash with annoyance. Chewing on the insides of his cheeks, Taehyung raises a brow. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, but you can safely assume he’s highly debating it. His eyes shift around the tree the two of you currently lounge under. Sparing you a glance, he scoffs. Perhaps he doesn’t think it’s worth it, you wonder. It’s no matter to you. All it really means is more time spent frustrating him, teasing him beyond- 

The ground crackles, splitting open with the presence of new roots. Bare branches rise and twist around the orange tree trunk. The deep green leaves sprout. Then, ripe figs bloom. They dangle closer to you than the oranges do. You don’t have much time to really admire them, however, as a loud rumble rattles your bones. The sound is enough to snap your fearful eyes to the seashore. Namjoon is gone. 

Shit. Have you taken this too far? Namjoon did plant this tree for you. He had never so much so as looked at another mortal. His allegiance, devotion, and adoration has been declared to you on more than one occasion. You are all he ever sees, thinks, breathes. Swallowing thickly, you mentally call him back. It’s all in good fun, you try to convince him. A quiet hum from the other side of the line is enough to soothe your anxiety. You lean back into the other god.

Taehyung couldn’t be less concerned. Instead of searching for Namjoon, as you seem to be interested in doing, he latches his lips onto your shoulder, a single hand cupping your breast. You gasp. Taking this as an encouragement to continue, Taehyung trails a wet arrangement of open mouthed kisses along your neck. Lips pressed to the shell of your ear, he hisses, “Quite a fucking mouth, indeed.” He digs his fingertips into the flesh of your breast and continues, “Might need some good dick to keep it in check.”

The thought is appealing. So much so, that you cannot help the way your eyes widen and glisten with interest. Having his cock shoved down your throat while he growls at the sheer sight of it alone has compelled your undivided attention. But, Namjoon’s rage still scratches at your bones, warning you against playing too much. 

You scoff. “Who says I don’t already have that?”

Taehyung does not reply. Not a smirk graces his lips nor breath escapes him. He simply leans in for a kiss. You find yourself giving in all too quickly. He slides his hand down to cup the space between your thighs and you cannot find it within you to push it away. In fact, you spread your legs further apart and tell yourself it’s reactive. The jolt of your hips up into his hand though… that might’ve been calculative. 

But the simple gesture of rolling your hips into his palm has shown all your cards once more. He reclaims the power, pulling away from the kiss and your sex. He clutches onto your hair, a deadpan expression the only means of emotion now. In huffing silence, he yanks on your hair, guiding your head down to his crotch. You hiss, the gesture proving more pleasurable than painful as you feel a fresh rush of your wetness further stain your legs. 

His silk skirt, pinned up and hanging from his hip by an arrowed, gold pin, lies in a disarried pile beside him. His huge cock is all that stands before you. He’s thicker than Namjoon, but, even with its impressive length, it does not compare to your boyfriend’s size. Taehyung is massive, but Namjoon is monstrous. 

Your mouth still salivates all the same. Tip oozing precum, Taehyung shoves your face against his balls. His thick scent rolls your tongue out. Heavy in lust, he mostly smells of lemons and cream. You’ve always adored citrus… Namjoon knows this well. And though you expected to feel your boyfriend’s anger at this revelation, all you feel on the other side is emptiness. You wonder where he’s gone. 

Or, at least you attempt to wonder. The moment you feel the impression of Taehyung’s weighty balls against your lips, all your thoughts dissipate. You swirl your tongue around each one before dropping them in your mouth. Suckling, drool dripping, your enthusiasm cannot be hidden any longer. Moaning maniactically, your eyes roll back.

Taehyung gasps and hisses. The peak of his groans, however, surfaces when you wrap a hand around his thick cock. You were ready to start pumping until you realized a single hand barely even covers half of him. Both hands wrapped around his length now, you twist and drag them up and down. Every so often, you tighten your grip a bit and let out a throaty moan. He shudders each time, legs trembling from your attention. 

On your knees, with your ass up high for any onlookers to easily see, the wind lashes at your heat. You squeal, then pull his balls out of your mouth to spit on his cock. The thick wad makes it easier to pump him. Brows furrowed, he runs a hand through his golden hair and shakily sighs… then his sight sets on something behind you. He smirks, white canines a dangerous nod to his power. 

A familiar hand rests on the small of your back, the other landing a harsh smack on your ass. You scream and fall forward onto Taehyung, face fully buried in his cock now. He laughs heartily, running a hand through your hair as a weak excuse for comfort. 

The hand behind you does not stop after one smack. It goes in for second, then third, and before you know it, your ass is burning with stings and pussy wetter than the ocean behind you. The pain ignites something viciously erotic, cradling your heart enough to make you whimper. It’s the idea of being used, you assume, and it only makes you perk your ass up higher. 

His raspy scoff makes you shiver, spine tingling with excitement. He gropes onto your ass and grunts, “Don’t try to be a good girl now.” 

Tangling his fingers in your hair, Namjoon uses this harsh grip to shove your face further against Taehyung’s crotch. He pulls back and tries again, making sure your mouth engulfs his friend’s cock this time. 

“You want to suck his cock, huh? Then fucking suck, you little slut,” he growls.

Your face flames with embarrassment. You can’t even bring yourself to meet Taehyung’s gaze. He merely laughs through a moan, leaning back on his hands as he watches you choke on his cock. You really can’t take him all in one go; you haven’t even found a way to take Namjoon in a single motion. But, your boyfriend couldn’t care less. He pushes your head down and keeps it there. Your jaw aches, throat burns, contracting around Taehyung’s thickness enough to make him throw his head back. Tears spill and spill and you foolishly think this will be the height of his punishment. 

Then, in he goes. 

“Such a wet little bitch,” Namjoon hisses as he pushes his cock into your pussy. 

You let out a strangled whine against Taehyung, much to his pleasure, and attempt to spread your legs, but Namjoon keeps them in place. They’re barely a hip’s length apart. The pain prickles against your pussy’s wall, making you gag a sob around Taehyung’s cock. The pressure of Namjoon’s huge dick behind you and the weight of Taehyung’s in your mouth trembles your posture. You shake under the intimidation and it doesn’t help at all that Taehyung’s dick is suffocating you. 

Namjoon pulls your head up the moment he fully enters. Gasping, you try to catch your breath. You inhale deeply each time, worried Namjoon will shove you back down on Taehyung’s cock without warning. Instead, he gives you a quick moment to breathe, ramming in and out of you like he’s riding a stallion. 

Taehyung, eyes half-lidded, admires the way you drool and babble all over yourself. You heave, holding his gaze long enough to realize he’s mocking you, tongue out and breathes exasperated. Then he laughs and Namjoon laughs, and your pride shrivels up. Dignity on the brink of shattering, you try to avoid his gaze, biting your lip to swallow your moans as Namjoon works his way in and out of you. 

But Taehyung will not have any of that. He nudges your wet chin back to him and teasingly pouts. “Is baby embarrassed?” he asks, tone more menacing than that taunting gaze of his. You glare at him, but he doesn’t seem fazed. Cupping your chin, Taehyung squeezes your cheeks to pucker your lips. “Answer me,” he seethes. 

Parting your lips, you’re about to confirm his statement when Namjoon grunts behind you. He  thrusts his hips particularly harder this time and your balance crumbles. You fall over Taehyung. He catches you with his lips, his hand trailing from your face to your neck and gripping onto it like he owns it. 

Namjoon is displeased. With a growl, he snaps his hips up, balls shoving their way in you too. Your teeth knock with Taehyung, causing him to grunt and glare at the god behind you. You watch him stare your boyfriend down while tightening his grip on your neck. He goes to say something, a curse judging by the placement of his lips in his teeth, but Namjoon pulls you out of his grasp before Taehyung can even get a syllable out. 

Replacing Taehyung’s hand with his own on your neck, Namjoon pulls you back up against his chest. His other hand wraps around your waist. Lips to the shell of your ear, he hammers into you and whispers, “Don’t go forgetting who you belong to.”

You hold Taehyung’s hard stare. His face reddens, cheeks drawn into his mouth as he glares. You whimper, pouting and nodding to Namjoon, but neither one of them seems convinced. Taehyung’s brows raise as if you’ve given him some sort of sign, and Namjoon’s hissing warnings against getting carried away. 

“Better not say his name.”

Out of sheer spite, you part your lips to utter the other’s name. However, the word is consequently pounded right out of your mind the moment it emerges. Neither god gives you another moment to develop a reply at all as they battle for your attention. A part of you wishes that each of them simply takes turns, but you already know how useless that would be. Neither one of them will be willing to wait and watch. Namjoon already slipped himself in, the act of watching being too distant for him. 

And it seems to be the same for Taehyung as well. He can’t sit still, can’t just watch you get ravished by someone else. You catch the annoyed twinkle in his eye darkening every time Namjoon makes you scream. Swallowing thickly, Taehyung shifts so that he’s lying by your knees and pulls the plump, upper flesh of your pussy apart. Then, smirking, he dips his head in and enthusiastically sucks on your clit. Teeth grazing, he bites and nibbles, drawing the most high-pitched squeals out of you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pushing his face further against your pussy. 

Namjoon huffs a groan against your cheek. Pounding in full force, he loosens his grip on you a bit. Your hips jolt forward, Taehyung’s teeth clamping down on your clit. You cry out, both hands back over Namjoon’s arm. The god by your knees did not escape unscathed either, his lips slightly bruised from the hit. He drags his gaze up to you, glare deadly. 

Guts twisting in ecstasy and guilt, you whimper and shake your head. “Sorr-” 

Your apology clinches in your throat as Namjoon tightens his grip on it. “Shut the fuck up, you filthy whore,” he grunts into your hair. 

Taehyung catches onto Namjoon’s sly gesture quickly, hungry eyes aflame for vengeance. “Keep her still, or I’ll fuck her into the ground.” His deep voice tickles the swirling pit of your stomach. So rich and raspy, his dulcet voice guides you closer to your orgasm than you’d be brave enough to admit. 

Subsequently, Taehyung relatches his lips to your clit. Namjoon swallows enough of his pride not to shake him off again. And you shudder as high doses of ecstasy creep over your nerves. It pumps your veins with excitement, anticipation and sheer joy. Even when they’ve mocked you and used you as a pocket pussy- a set of holes, you cannot deny how horny it makes you for them. 

Namjoon huffs your name in your ear, whispering about your tightness, about how he knows how fucking close you are. “Baby is gonna cream,” he mockingly coos. “Do you want him to taste you? Are you that much of a slut, you want another man to taste you? He’ll get addicted.” Namjoon grunts thrice before continuing, “But you already know that, right? You want him addicted. You want him to worship that little cunt of yours, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, yes, oh fuck yes!” you screech. Whether it is in reply to his questions or simply a reaction to the dual assault of your pussy, you’re not quite certain. But, Namjoon is. And he’s irate. Shaking with anger, his pounds reach a pace unknown to gods, even Taehyung raises an impressed brow. 

Your next intake of air cinches somewhere in your throat. You try to scream, to cry, to make some sort of sound as your cum rushes out of you. Gushing, slouching, your pussy makes enough noise that your mouth doesn’t need to. Both men fall victim to it - to you - anyway. Squirming in Namjoon’s hold, there’s very little you can do. Your mind is foggy, vision blurry, but it doesn’t stop either of them. A distant clash of throaty moans fill the fields, though you can’t register much of that either. Your ears are ringing too much to hear more than your own heartbeat struggling to keep up. 

Taehyung growls, his hands constantly knocking against Namjoon’s. Your dazed gaze falls to meet his. Eyes blazed with sexual frustration, he claws at your hips and pulls you forward against him. Namjoon, however, keeps a strong hold on your waist. Your torso’s his for the taking. He grabs hold of your chin and whips your head back to him. 

“You look at me when you cum,” he seethes. “Or you won’t cum at all next time.” 

Half a breath escapes you in response, but it seems to be half a breath too late. Namjoon emits a raspy groan so sinister it would be a crime to simply call it a growl. He roars. You feel the vibrations of the sound in your spine, another dose of your cum rushing through you. Then, all too quickly, he lets go of you. It takes his hands off your chest for you to realize your legs gave out long ago. You instantly fall to your knees. Taehyung is quick to catch you in his arms. Lips inches apart, Taehyung looks ready to share some of his oxygen with you when Namjoon orders, “Turn her around.”

Taehyung glares over your head. Gulping, his lips twitch in a fake smile as he lifts you. You, however, cannot let him give in that easily. Besides, nothing is better than angering the god of war. His stubborn, victory-bound heart will not rest until you submit to him over Taehyung. And, throwing you into the enemy’s arms does not seem like he’s trying hard enough to win, to discipline you. So, after Taehyung turns you around in his lap, you press a passionate kiss upon his lips, slipping your tongue in for good measure. Taehyung snakes his hand between your legs too, fingers playing all too much for you to stay silent. Between kisses, you sneak a glance at Namjoon, finding Taehyung already doing the same thing.  

Towering over you, skin inked, nipples pierced, muscles flexed and slick with sweat, Namjoon huffs. His jaw is locked, a gesture you’ve learned isn’t at all meant to be comforting. With his cheeks sucked in and a brow quirked, Namjoon jerks himself off to the sight of you so openly defiant.

“Open your dirty mouth,” Namjoon orders through gritted teeth. “I need to clean it out.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, his fingers ceasing their movements as he cups your sex instead. “So dramatic,” he teases, earning a cold stare from Namjoon. 

You resist the urge to giggle, having to choose your battles carefully. Taehyung has already gotten too much attention anyways, you decide. Pushing his hand away from your pussy, you ignore the wet kisses Taehyung peppers upon the nape of your neck and gaze up at Namjoon with your mouth open. 

He bites his lip to keep from smirking. And, with a loud, chest drawn groan, he releases his load all over your chin and breasts. The warmth of his cum sets your skin ablaze. It feels just as thick as it tastes. Licking around your face, you try to swallow whatever you can get. A little smile breaks out on Namjoon’s face, swelling your heart with pride. 

However, Taehyung isn’t as moved by the gesture as you are. He tangles a hand in your hair and pulls your head back against his shoulder. “That’s enough of that,” he breathes over your face. Then he wipes the rest of Namjoon’s cum off with the pad of his thumb and pecks your lips. He rubs the cum into your nipples, teasing them between his thumb and forefinger. 

You almost forget Namjoon's presence. That is, until he grabs hold of your ankles and yanks you right out of Taehyung’s hold. With a loud gasp, you’re on your back, legs spread and Namjoon at the center. He gazes lazily down at you, like handling your body is a casual passtime. There is something glittering within that suspicious ease, however. Something cocky, angry, and terrifying. Hand around your neck, Namjoon jerks you off the floor and shoves you back into Taehyung’s arms. 

The golden god catches you with a grunt. He draws his brows together in confusion, silently questioning Namjoon. He parts his lips, but your boyfriend huffs, cutting him off. Namjoon grabs you by your bicep and turns you around to face Taehyung. 

After making sure your legs are spread and straddling the other god’s waist, Namjoon seethes, “The simplest instructions.” His warm tongue darts out to lick the shell of your ear. Between nibbles he continues, “You can’t even follow the simplest instructions. That can’t be easily forgiven anymore, baby.”

You’re not quite sure what he means, considering he’s never punished you in this position before. Usually, being on top is a reward. He grants you a sliver of control, consequence free, when you’ve been well-behaved. This level of generosity is a rarity. However, as Namjoon pushes you further into Taehyung, with you wrapped around his torso, you begin to wonder what kind of punishment you’re in for, and which one of them is administering it. 

Of course, these thoughts are fleeting as Taehyung’s fat cock prods around your pulsing hole. Sparks of bliss set to flames the nerves bunching around your clit. You shudder each time he brushes his tip against it. Petting your hair back just to grab it, Taehyung breathes a chuckle into the crook of your neck. He licks and sucks on your delicate skin like you belong to him. And for a split second, you almost think you do. The sweet, wet kisses and the way he eases into you only just has you forgetting that Namjoon is standing over you, watching as another god worships.

With a smack, your memories jolt back. The sting of both cheeks makes you all too aware of his presence now. You cry out, falling over Taehyung clumsily. The spank hit so hard, so fast that it even has Namjoon hissing from the impact. Even still, he smacks you again and again and again. “You still have no idea what you’ve asked for, do you?” he questions. 

You thought you did. You hoped you did. But, as Namjoon spanks you with added force, you realize just how right he is. You whimper into Taehyung’s shoulder. He’s kept his cock warm in your tight, clenching hole when Namjoon begins to get vicious with his spanks. Chuckling and mocking you in whispers, Taehyung finds your suddenly all too obedient state entertaining. It flames your face with shame, your entire body caught between wanting another serving of cock or slaps. He imitates your whimpers, coaxing more tears out of you before hissing, “If you had any real shame, you’d get off my cock and go suck your boyfriend’s.”

“She’s a fucking slut,” Namjoon answers, landing another slap to your tenders cheeks. “Why’d you stop fucking her?”

Some humanity flashes in Taehyung’s eyes as you nuzzle your face against his. He mutters something incoherent, along the lines of, “She can’t handle it.” 

“She can!” Namjoon grunts as he finally rubs your pain buzzed ass. A shaky whine escapes you and tickles Taehyung’s ear. “You can take it, right, baby?” he asks, digging his nails into your flesh. 

You whine in agreement. It’s not enough. He needs to hear you say- scream it. Grabbing a handful of your hair, he peels you off Taehyung enough for him to get a good look at your face. He folds his hands under his head, smirking at the sight of you so shattered by pleasure of being in pain. Face flushed, wet, cum stained and eyes innocent, your features fold in raptured anguish. 

Namjoon roughly kneads your right cheek while pressing the length of his cock against it. “Can you take the fucking like a good girl?” He mockingly coos. It juts a chorus of shivers down your spine. 

You squeeze tight around Taehyung at the thought. He rasps your name. Namjoon growls lowly, rubbing himself against you as he warns, “You’re not gonna make me ask you a third time, are you?” 

Taehyung shifts his hips, cinching your breath at your throat from the stroke of friction. Why did he have to be so big, so pretty and hot staring at you like that? Why’d you have to go tempting gods you know you can’t keep up with? You regret angering Namjoon, realizing that jealousy is the worst power trip you can feed a god. They both want to watch you fall apart, crumble into a pile of bones. Tears spill at the thought, pussy aching around a cock too big to adjust to. Every nerve feels so sensitive, so overused, yet you need to cum again. 

No. You can’t take it. But, you’ll be damned if you tell either of them that. And as Namjoon lays another sharp smack on your cheeks, tingling with pain, you circle your hips around Taehyung’s and cry out a broken, breathy and utterly desperate, “Y-es!”

Taehyung grips onto your hips, pulling you half out. You expect to be plunged onto his cock with a new degree of force, but find another one attempting to squeeze in as well. Namjoon’s monster cock pushing into your pussy alongside Taehyung’s. Your jaw drops, eyes roll back as that viciously delicious stretch strangles your soul with bliss. He enters you slow, but sharp, knowing full well that the both of them cannot fit. 

Neither cares. Both gods create a quickly speeding rhythm of thrusts into you. Body jolting forwards, breasts shaking over Taehyung’s face and ass bouncing against Namjoon’s hips. He hunches over you to groan your name in your ear, voice husky with lust and dominance. He repeats the word like a prayer. Every syllable drips slow out of his lips like thick molasses when his voice reaches such depth. 

You try to lean back into him, but Taehyung keeps you in place with the tight grip on your hips. “Stay still,” he grunts against your nipple. Then, he sucks on it, teasing the little nub between his teeth. 

You moan a little too loud at Taehyung’s ministrations for Namjoon’s liking. Both hands locked on your ass, Namjoon pushing your cheek up and against Taehyung. You lose whatever balance you had weighted on your arms, falling flat against the sun god with a squeal. His cock fully plugs into you and when he tries to thrust up against you once more, Namjoon growls, “Both of you stay still.”

A shiver tickles your spine with the wind. As Taehyung kisses your neck, you attempt to sneak a peek at your boyfriend over your shoulder and push your ass back into him. He’s sweaty and huffing. The peachy sunset behind him halos around his muscular frame. He’s so pretty when he’s mad, all those veins lacing his inked skin like little spider webs. His gaze finds yours, that annoyed look intensifying in his eyes when you wink at him.

And though it was completely innocent, it still switches something off in Namjoon. He shifts his tight grip on your ass to the small of your back then, all at once, presses down onto it with the entirety of his strength. A series of loud cracks elicit from your spine like the fire of a gun at the start of a race. And away go his hips as he rams in and out of your too full pussy. 

Screams and sudden sobs pour out of you and onto Taehyung as the both of you get shaken by Namjoon’s force. You know your back isn’t broken, blown out maybe, but definitely not broken. You just didn’t think this would be the result of his jealousy and anger. Did he think you were mocking him with that wink, with Taehyung? Perhaps some mocking did occur with Taehyung around, but he’s always liked your snarkier side. He tells you to behave because he knows you won’t and adores it when you don’t. But, maybe you did take it too far, and give into Taehyung too much. You really wish you can say, with all this overstimulating and teasing and taunting, that you regret it all. 

Only, you don’t. 

Clutching tighter onto Taehyung’s shoulders, your tears fall as freely as your broken moans. Namjoon smacks his hips over your ass, pounding your pussy like it’s just you two here. It’s not as though Taehyung is lying under you, obsessing over how tight you are and just how amazing you smell. 

“You know why he’s so mad right,” he questions quietly, voice strained. When you shake your head, he chuckles and whispers, “Because he knows how much better I make you feel.”

The whimper that leaves you was by no means a response to whatever Taehyung was going on about. Though he gives it to you great, he doesn’t compare to your boyfriend. You suppose Namjoon knows this too, somewhere within that deep connection you two share. Still, he holds you further down against Taehyung, practically melding your body into his, and thrusts at an ungodly speed just as he did when he caught you sucking Taehyung’s cock. 

You’re not sure either of them understand the load of pleasure they are washing over you. Taehyung has his giant cock stationed in your pussy with his tip pressing continuously against your g-spot as Namjoon’s monstrous cock jabs at it again and again. 

Body trembling, voice broken, you squeal, “I’m- ahhgh I’m gon-na cuu-uum.”

“Me too,” Taehyung husks in your ear. It has you clenching tighter. 

Namjoon scoffs through a moan. “No, you’re fucking not.” 

“But, Joon-”

A harsh smack against your ass silences your protests. “You know what to do when you’re close,” he grunts.

Yes, you do. But there isn’t much time to beg. You have two huge cocks in you and if he thinks he can coax some sort of plea- 

“Fuck,” you cry as he spanks you again. 

“ASK!” he roars, hands on your back just to make it crack all over again.

Drooling, whimpering, eyes rolling, you somehow find it in you to hold back your orgasm long enough to beg, “Please, fuck, just let me cum! Please, please, Namjoon!” 

“Just fucking let her cum,” Taehyung grunts. 

Namjoon snakes one of his hands up your spine, hips still ramming into you all the same, and latching onto your hair. Slowly, he peels you off of Taehyung and holds you against his chest. You screw your eyes shut in an attempt not to cream both their cocks. 

With his lips at your ear, he whispers, “Look down at him.” After forcing your eyes open and down at Taehyung, who looks all too pleased with your ruined state, Namjoon orders, “Thank him for a good time.”

Panting, lips a spitty mess, you whimper, “Thank you for a good time.” 

Taehyung rubs your thighs. “She’s just as fun when she’s a good girl,” he hisses to himself. 

Namjoon chuckles, wrapping his free hand around your throat. “You’re my best girl either way,” he whispers to you. The praise makes you shiver, your orgasm almost slipping right out of your control. 

“Please let me cum now,” you cry. “Please, I need it.” 

Taking a deep breath of your scent, Namjoon peppers little kisses along your jawline. “Shall we all cum together?” he asks before nodding to Taehyung. The sun god’s hips jolt back to act and soon each one is back to taking turns to smash your already too sensitive spot. 

You nod energetically. Truthfully, you don’t care if either one of them cums, just as long as they let you do it now. 

Taehyung shifts one of his hands further up your hips, his thumb working fast and small circles over your clit. You’re quaking, head thrown back against Namjoon’s shoulders, eyes rolling and screwed shut when Namjoon orders you to look at him. You force them open enough to watch a wicked swirl of power and lust gleam in his eyes. With a single breath, lips hovering over yours, he whispers, “Cum.”

Your vision spots black before failing all together as an extreme dose of ecstasy floods your senses. Their growls collide with your breathless screams in a cacophony of pleasure with each shot of cum they fill you with. And you return the favour, coating each cock with more cum than you think you’ve ever offered. In and out, they still go, desperate to leave you dripping with the impression of both of them for days. 

Namjoon spits in your mouth a bit and chuckles quietly when you still find it in you to swallow it. “You just had to be a fucking brat, hmm?” he groans as both his and Taehyung’s thrusts slow down. “Are you satisfied now?”

You hear his words and think that maybe you are processing them, but you really can’t find enough of your voice or energy to respond. Heaving, you know your body gave out well before he even got you in this position and blew your back out. You don’t even realize that you’re slobbering all over yourself until Namjoon licks it all away. Only little whimpers and whines manage to reply to him. It only strengthens that power blown look in his eyes. 

Taehyung suddenly pulls himself out of you. Or rather, Namjoon pulls you up and off his cock. Then, he stands up on his knees and presses a soft kiss to your mouth, despite Namjoon’s annoyed groan. “And thank you for such a great evening, my-”

“She’s not yours!”

You watch through somewhat blurry vision as the two gods glare at each other. Taehyung then glances over at the fig vines laced around the orange tree. With a smirk, he nods. His hands fondle your breast one more time before he grabs what little clothes he came with. Then, with the sun, he’s gone. 

Basking in the glow of the moon, Namjoon slowly pulls out of you. His touches are now all too gentle to even register, or maybe your skin is simply still on fire from such a rough fucking. Either way, he’s careful in how he handles you now. Cradling you to his chest, he helps you lay down. He kisses your forehead and mutters, “Take a deep breath.” 

You do so. Again and again. When you’re breathing somewhat regulates, your mind finally catches up with where you are now. Resting in Namjoon’s arms, his silk skirt draped over your body like a blanket, you gaze up at the stars. 

“He planted figs,” Namjoon mutters.

You shift against his chest before shrugging. “He did.” You’re not sure why that simple detail seems to tick him off so much. They’re just figs. 

“Do you still like oranges though?”

It suddenly clicks in your head. His anger translating into worry. Does he really think that you’d give him up for Taehyung? He should know you well enough to know he’s your world. And if you weren’t so sore or weak, you would have gotten up and picked the ripest orange and shared it with him. Instead, you turn in his lap, suppressing the urge to hiss at the sparks of pain running up and down your back, and press a soft kiss to his lips. 

“I love oranges.” 

He fights off a smile, but relief reflects in his gaze. “I’m sure they love you too,” he mutters like he hasn’t told you so before. 

It all doesn’t matter too much anyways. He’s yours and you’re his. No other god, no matter how many times they stop by, will change that. This is, after all, your orange tree. 

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

[discocactusblogs]

Heather- Jason Todd x Chubby Reader Pt.1

{Author's Note: _____ is a blank to put your name}

"Girl, just tell him!" Barbara whispered and nudged me towards my best friend, Jason Todd aka Robin, the boy wonder.

I had found out about him being Batman's sidekick when we were 13, shortly after he became Robin.

"Easy for you to say! Look at you! You're gorgeous! You're fit and thin and redheaded! Just look at me… I'm...not so fit... I'm chubby. I'm a plain bagel. I'm not ugly but I'm not exactly pretty either." I sighed and gestured to my chubby body.

" ______, I know what I'm telling you. Just tell him." She sighed. "Besides, you're gorgeous too! And very intelligent and mature for a fifteen-year-old!" Barbara smiled, holding up a banana like a wand.

"As if. What guy my age sees a girl and goes, 'What a lovely personality?' Get real Babs, no one wants a plain bagel." I shrugged.

"Welp, I gotta get going or I'll be late for work. But trust me, he won't turn you away." She turned away, obviously knowing something I didn't.

"Hey _____!" Jason spoke as he walked up to me from the curb of the grocery store, I had gone to buy some fruit my mom had told me to get.

"Hey Jay." I sighed with a slight blush on my cheeks.

"Are you okay? It's kinda cold today… Where's your jacket?" He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"My jacket!" I gasped. "I forgot it at school!"

"School's closed now. They just locked the gate." He replied with a shrug.

"My mom's going to kill me. That's the only jacket I have!" My eyes watered, knowing my mother was going to be furious with me when I got home.

"Take mine then. I have others at home." He unzipped his hoodie.

"N-no. It's fine. I can get it Monday from school." I spoke softly while staring at the ground.

He draped his jacket over my shoulders. "I said, take it. Besides, it looks better on you than me. It goes well with your hair color. Here, let me hold your stuff so you can get it on." He smirked, knowing I wouldn't refuse if he spoke sternly with me. He took the bag from my hands and I looked at him. "Zip. It. Up." He frowned.

"Yes sir." I put my arms in the jacket and zipped it up. He was bigger and bulkier than I was, so the jacket fit me rather loosely and was down to my mid thighs but it was comfortable and warm. Much warmer than the jackets and sweaters I had before.

"Hm… keep it. I know your dad hasn't been working a lot lately. It gets pretty cold so you can keep that one. Bruce got me some others at home. Just don't tell anyone, got it? I only share with you because I've known you since we were kids. You took care of me so I'm taking care of you." He looked at me, handing back the bag of fruit. "Now, don't think I'm getting soft or being a gentleman. You're still carrying your stuff." He smirked.

I smiled and chuckled. "Thanks." I took the bag and walked down the street with him.

"Hi Jason!" An annoying voice called out from the ice cream shop.

"Hm? Oh, hey Heather." Jason turned around and seemed slightly irritated.

"Are you going to the pep rally tonight?" Heather asked with fluttering eyelashes. She was Jason's girlfriend.

Dark hair, slim figure, bright eyes, how could I compete with that?

"Uh, no." He replied flatly.

"Why not, I'm going to be performing!" She countered.

"I'm just not feeling it. I don't like pep rallies." He shrugged. "Not my thing."

"Okay then. Wanna get some ice cream?" She asked.

"Go ahead and go home ______, I'll catch up later." He looked apologetically at me and walked across the street.

I nodded and kept walking.

I watched as Heather smiled and hugged him.

It hurt.

He was dating her and she was so sweet. Everyone loved her so, I can see why he did too. She always had a smile on her face.

I kept walking, tears stinging my eyes. There's no way I could ever be like her. He liked her more and would run to her at the drop of a hat.

Arriving at home, I stepped inside. "Hey mom! I'm back!" I set the bag on the counter.

"Oh good! Make sure you do your homework!"

"Yes ma'am!" I sigh and go up to my room, closing the door.

Out of instinct, I called my friend, Valerie.

"A simple solution to your problem is to play spin the bottle or something." She teased.

"Why would he ever kiss me? I'm nowhere near as pretty as Heather!" I clutch the sleeves of the hoodie before taking it off and throwing it onto my bed.

"He gave her his sweater." My eyes watered as I told her what had happened at school that day.

"The black one or the fake polyester one?" Valerie asked.

"The black one."

"Oh dear. I'll be right over." She hung up.

"Is it wrong to wish she were dead?" I chuckled softly when Valerie came through my bedroom door.

"Yes. It's your jealousy and I'm gonna chop off your legs if you continue on this path, Anakin." Valerie smirked.

"Dude, I was kidding." I turn in my swivel chair.

"Yeah, it was a failed attempt at a joke. I'm sorry about Jason. If it makes you feel better, Bradley dumped me." She looked at the ground.

"Here's the plan, I drive the car and Jason shoves him into the road and we make it look like an accident." I spoke whilst drawing out the plan.

"Don't worry about it."

"Worry about what?" Jason walked in.

"Oh, you came!" Valerie smiled.

I looked at her, what a traitor.

"So, I heard you gave Heather your sweater!"

"This one?" He held up said object. "Eh, we broke up. She liked someone else and so did I." He sat on a beanbag chair.

"Wait what? But you really liked her and she's so nice!" I exclaim in shock.

"Relax ______, it was mutual." He chuckled. "There's actually something I came to talk to you about." He seemed nervous, his cheeks tinting red and so were the tips of his ears.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I'll go get water." Valerie got up, stretched and went downstairs.

"I don't know how to say this. This is difficult for me but… I'm sorry. I don't want to be your friend anymore." He sighed.

My eyes widened. "W-what?"

"Yeah. I'm...tired of it." He stood up.

"But Jason, you're my best friend!"

"I know. Hey, do you know what material this shirt is?" He checked his shirt.

"Jason, now's not the time-"

"Answer!"

"I don't know! Cotton, maybe?!" I was growing panicked and my eyes were stinging with tears.

"Wrong, it's boyfriend material. And so is that hoodie." He smirked.

I stood in silence.

"What?" He asked.

"Jason Peter Todd, are you...asking me to be your girlfriend????" I stood, mouth agape in shock.

He smirked and nodded. "Sure thing buttercup! I... love you." His face turned beet red.

"Why? I'm not pretty. I'm not slim or fit or anything-"

"Because you're smart, and cute, you're kind and brave. You're so cool too and geek out with me. We both nerd out over science stuff and books. What's not to love???" The look on his face was one of pure confusion, as if the answer was as clear as day.

"Jason, I love you too." I spoke in a hushed whispers as a few years fell from my eyes.

"Don't cry! Why are you crying???"

"I'm just happy! I've liked you for so long!"

"So have I but I'm not crying!"

"I didn't think you'd like me because I'm chubby!"

"What?! You think I'm that shallow? I'm offended!"

"Jay and ______ sitting in a tree~" Valerie teased from the doorway.

"Val!" We exclaimed in unison, Jay pulling me into a side hug.

"Fine! I'mma head out!" She grabbed her backpack and left.

A few days later, Jason was going to leave for a mission that I didn't want him to go on. I knew how dangerous it was for him to go alone.

"I'm leaving...for Bosnia. Bats needs my help." He looked at me sadly.

"Jay, please. Don't go. What if something happens?" I pleaded, clutching onto him tightly.

It was only a few days ago that he confessed to me and we were trying to figure out where to go with our relationship, which led to this argument.

"I'll come back. I promise." He kissed the top of my head. "Love ya." He smirked. His forest green eyes shone in the sunlight like an emerald.

He seemed so confident that he would be okay.

"Jason, no! I have a bad feeling you're not coming back!" I pleaded harshly, grabbing his wrist and asking him to stay.

"I'm just going to meet my birth mom, I'll be fine!" He assured me. "Here, hold onto my jacket for me." He took off his leather jacket and handed it to me.

I nodded with tears escaping the corners of my eyes. "I love you Jason…" I said as I watched him hop into the car and leave. Little did I know that would be the last time I ever saw him.

I kept that jacket with me at all times after that.

A few weeks went by without a word from Jason and the pit on my stomach only grew, the only thing keeping me sane was the scent of his cologne on his jacket that lingered still.

Finally, I mustered up the courage to go to Wayne Manor and ask if anyone's heard from Jason. It was then my heart shattered into pieces.

"Miss ______, I am so terribly sorry. I thought someone had already told you… Master Jason died last week." Alfred sat me down at the kitchen counter for tea.

My eyes widened and the porcelain teacup fell from my hand, shattering onto the tile floor. Tears flowed from my eyes like a cerulean waterfall. "No one told me!" I shouted, falling to my knees to clean up the mess with blurry eyes.

"Miss ______, I can get it." Alfred stopped me, only to realize I was bleeding from a deep cut from a glass shard on the top of my hand, a cut that would leave a scar for years to come.

"He can't be dead… he promised he would come back." I whispered, not even flinching from the cut.

"Here, allow me to tend to that." Alfred took out the first aid kit and cleaned the wound, giving it a few stitches.

"How…?" I asked, flinching from pain.

"... The Joker. Master Bruce didn't make it in time." He replied, the sorrow evident in his tone.

I nodded and thanked him for the help and the tea.

"Send a car to take her home." I heard Bruce from the doorway.

"Right away, Master Bruce." Alfred excused himself.

"His funeral is this Saturday if you'd like to come." Bruce turned away from me.

"I'll be there. Time?"

"Noon."

"See you then."

When the funeral finally took place, the reality of Jason's death set in. He wasn't coming back like he promised. I left a rose on his casket and bawled as I watched them lower the casket with my best friend and love of my life, into the dark, cold ground and with it, my heart.

"You promised." I whispered to myself, looking away from the scene. It was then I decided I wanted to be a nurse to help heal people.

Five years later, my dream of being a nurse was nearly achieved. I was two years away from graduating and I went to visit Jason every day on the way home from work. I still lived with my parents since I was a student at the local university, thanks to Bruce.

When I approached the door, that's when I saw it. A single rose on the bench outside the door along with a cryptic letter. 'Hang in there.' it said with a happy face at the end.

I was stumped but the notes and roses kept happening at least once a week and they soon came every day. At least, until the night that would change my life forever.

(Part Two)

(Masterlist)

[writingtoforgetreality]

Delicate - The Devil’s Daughter Chapter Nine (Lucifer Morningstar x Daughter!Reader)

[Lucifer-Masterlist], [The Devil’s Daughter-Masterlist]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: Amenadiel did not trust you one bit. Why? Well, you were not sure yourself. But you would find out soon. 

Words: 1,464

Warnings: language, angst, I think this chapter is good to go, (Y/E/C) = your eye color, (Y/A) = your age

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Dinner was incredibly uncomfortable. Amenadiel had not stopped staring at you & you desperately wanted the floor to swallow you as a whole. The worst part was that Dan seemed oblivious to everything. You did not even bother engaging in their conversation. Mostly, your eyes trained on the little baby who you found out was named Charlie. He was really sweet. Not like his scary father with his stone cold stare.

“(Y/N)?” it was the first time Amenadiel directed his words at you. You almost choked on your food. Why were you thinking that he would not talk to you? It was bad enough that he made you queasy but him asking you something? Well, you were not necessarily prepared if you were honest.

“Um, yeah?” you had never sounded so ludicrous in your entire existence.

“Can we talk?” his eyes bore into yours. Dan kept eating like nothing was wrong about this situation.

“I guess.” an awkward chuckle left your mouth.

“I mean in private.” his voice was deep. You definitely did not want to mess with him. Eyeing Dan, you found him uninterested. He simply motioned for you guys to go ahead. Okay, what was going on? You had never met this guy before. And he just came waltzing in, demanding to talk to you. It was not really a demand. More like a question with a demanding undertone. Whatever it was, it left you uneasy. Getting up from the table, you gestured for him to follow you. He gave Dan some instructions how to deal with little Charlie & then entered your, or better said Trixie’s, bedroom behind you. The door fell closed & suddenly, you were alone with a stranger. Seemingly no way to escape whatsoever.

“So.” Amenadiel started.

“So.” you breathed out.

“Anything you wanna tell me?” his eyebrows raised questioningly.

“Should there be anything?” your head tilted, clearly showing that you had no clue what he wanted from you.

“What are you?”

“Usually, it’s “who” but-“

“No. What are you?” sounded like he was not in the mood for jokes. Truthfully, you were not either but you thought a little sarcasm would ease the tension between you two. When you did not give him an answer, he continued. “I know you aren’t human.” that made you stop in your tracks. (Y/E/C) eyes widened in fear.

“W-What?” you managed to stutter out.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t play dumb.” Amenadiel walked over to where you were sitting on the bed. Placing himself beside you but not too close, so there still was a good amount of distance.

“I…I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” by now, your eyes trained on your lap where your hands fiddled to avoid eye contact. It was not like he was a bad person or anything, just the way he talked & about what he talked was not really what you expected from one of Dan’s friends.

“I think you do.” he sighed out. “And if you’re not telling me then I believe we’ll have a problem.”

“Why would there be a problem?” your heartrate picked up its pace & you had no control over it. Your legs bounced & if you did not clench your hands into fists, the trembles would be visible.

“Because I can’t tell if you’re a threat or not.” he was being serious but to you, his statement was hilarious. Hence why you could not hold in a little laughter. Regaining your composure, you locked your eyes with his again.

“Do I look threatening to you?” a little smirk was plastered on your face. Everyone who knew you knew how you would never hurt anyone. Clearly, he thought otherwise.

“Yes.” that caught you off guard. A man like him being afraid of you? You, out of everyone? Did not sound real but whatever. He started speaking again. “As an angel, you can see someone’s true form. I can detect another angel, a demon. But when I look at you…I don’t see anything.” you were too shocked after his revelation of being an angel. That had to be a coincidence, right? He could very well be lying. So why did you believe him when he told you that? Still, you would not let your guard down. Not that easily.

“Isn’t it good when you don’t see anything? Means I’m no demon, right?” whatever you said, it was the wrong thing. Because the man next to you looked amused.

“You kinda gave yourself away with your answer. You weren’t shocked when I said I was an angel.” oh, you were shocked but probably not like a human being would be. “So that brings me to my conclusion that you aren’t human. I’m asking you again…What are you?”

“You know my name, right?” you looked at him expectantly. After a nod from him, you kept going. “Then it should be an easy one for you to put two & two together.” now it was his turn to look confused. Rolling your eyes at him, you explained further. “(Y/N). The big, bad angel nobody wants to get too close to.” your hands gestured exaggeratedly but Ameandiel’s face was still full of confusion.

“I don’t know an angel named (Y/N).” he mumbled it more to himself. “Did father send you?”

“Father? You’re talking about the Big Guy?” your eyes rolled. Of course, if Amenadiel was an angel then it would make God his father. “Trust me, I’d still be up there if it weren’t for me leaving right away.”

“Right away as in you turned (Y/A)?”

“Bingo.” you smiled at him. “Look, Amenadiel…If God sent you to bring me back tell him to stop trying so hard. Because I won’t ever go back.” you grew more & more angry.

“Nobody sent me.” again, it sounded like the truth. “But I’m not lying when I say that I don’t know an angel named (Y/N).” that, on the other hand, sounded like a big fat lie.

“Sure thing.” you laughed. “You’re here to make fun of me then?”

“No, I’m-“ but you interrupted him.

“I can’t believe you…” you whispered while shaking your head. “For (Y/A) years, no other angel gave a single shit about me. I’m leaving heaven & all of a sudden the others care? Or make fun of me? Trust me when I say you’re too late.” you got up from the bed, approaching the door. Yet, you came to a halt the moment your hand touched the doorknob. Shoulders sunk down. If you were honest, you were kind of hurt right now. When Amenadiel started talking again, his voice was much softer.

“I didn’t know you existed. And by the way you’re talking about heaven…it doesn’t sound like you had the best experience.” you scoffed at that. “Though I can only believe you if you show me your wings. You could be a demon, after all.” it was weird for him to meet someone who claimed to be an angel. But only because he could not see your true form. Whatever was going on with you he had never seen before. He had not even known that something like that was possible. That was, of course, if you really were an angel. If not, you could be a threat still. And he would not let you get too close to Charlie if that were the case.

“Forget it.” turning around again, your arms crossed over your chest.

“Then it means you’re a threat.” he pointed out, slowly getting up to walk over to you. When you instinctively took a step back, your body pressing against the closed door, then he came to a halt. You were uncomfortable, he could tell.

“I’m not a threat.” you breathed out through gritted teeth. “It’s not like I don’t wanna show you my wings. It’s more like I can’t.” your head hung low, thinking about the bandage on your back that probably needed to be changed soon.

“And why is that?” you were drained entirely. Like your social battery was empty. Besides, it was probably easier to show him than to explain everything. Grabbing the edges of your shirt, you turned around & lifted it enough to show the bandages. Blood leaked through. Not a lot but still. You flinched when you felt him remove it. He was careful but it was a very vulnerable moment for you. After all, nobody but the archangels & God had seen your wounds & scars before. You heard Ameandiel letting out a shaky breath. How you wished you could see his face, his reaction, right now. It felt like hours before you heard him talking again. And you could only make out his voice because the room had gone entirely silent.

“What did they do to you?”

~to be continued~

Next Chapter

Published (04/12/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @fandomqueen2003, @natashaashleymarvelromanoff, @severewobblerlightdragon, @tenderlyunlikelyexpert, @zoseph, @suffering-canucks-fan, @dad-ee-drea, @xbarrjallenx, @marvelofwitch, @aceofspace95, @julessbrown, @thevelvetseries, @kotkaniemi-caufield-mom, @crumpets-are-better-with-jam, @strangewhovian-blog, @officialfictionalwreck, @peachescream06 (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)

[shinsouskitten]

Shinsou Hitoshi nsfw alphabet

damn kat back at it again with the thirst i hate myself 

Idk how I haven’t done a nsfw alphabet for my KING yet but I’m disappointed in myself for it

this post was mostly finished before the whole ‘this cold makes me feel like im dying’ thing so i just had to add a few and it was ready for publishing (bonus points if you can tell which ones were added in my cold-induced craziness)

Warnings: you know it, you love it, the thirsting of a lonely writer

---

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Shinsou is a king when it comes to aftercare. Hot baths, massages, cuddles, you name it. You mean the absolute world to him, and he’ll go out of his way to show that, both in and out of the bedroom

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

Shinsou can be pretty self critical, but if you pushed for an answer he’d probably say his hair, cause he knows how much you like it. For his partner, horny Shinsou would immediately go for your neck (literally too). He loves how a single kiss can turn you into putty in his hands, and he’ll leave marks in places he knows you can’t hide just to prove to the world that you’re his

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Inside you, on you, he doesn’t really mind. Whatever you prefer, he’s happy with. If you want to get messy, he’s more than happy to help, but if not he’ll keep you clean (ish). Although he’s unlikely to admit it, seeing you swallow his cum ignites a fire in Shinsou, and sets up quite a few more rounds so he can give you a reward for being so good

D = Dirty secret (pretty clear, a dirty secret of theirs)

Shinsou’s pretty open with what he wants, but when you first start getting intimate there’ll be a few things he doesn’t really want to say in case he scares you away (he could never, but he still worries). He wants to experiment, but he makes sure he knows your boundaries before he suggests anything too out there. The thing he keeps secret for the longest is the desire to wrap your neck in a beautiful collar emblazoned with his name, simply cause he doesn’t want you to think it’s weird

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He does his research, but hands on experience is pretty limited before you. It’s a learning curve, both of you learning what makes the other tick, what causes you the highest amount of pleasure, and what to steer clear of

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Loves to see you ride him. It gives you the power to control the tempo, but also gives him a beautiful view to tip him over the edge of ecstasy. More needy Shinsou (aka when he’s in hornball mode) likes doggy style, cause it means he can pull your hair or hold you up against him and kiss your neck

G = Goofy (how serious are they in the moment?)

He’s not going to whip out a joke book in the middle of sex, but he’s also not going to act like an uptight secretary who’s only able to follow the rules (well, not unless you ask 👀) 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Keeps himself trimmed, possibly even shaved. It’s no nonsense and means it’s also more enjoyable for you if you’re giving him head

I = Intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment?)

He’s an intimate guy, but he’s also not above teasing (though there’s another letter for that so I’ll keep on intimate for now). Like I mentioned in B, Shinsou can be pretty self critical, and sometimes he can get scared that you’ll leave him if he doesn’t prove how much he loves you, which to him means intimate sex and reassurance (aka, saying ‘I love you’ every two seconds)

J = Jack off (what are their views on masturbation?)

He does it when needed. He’s not insanely horny, so chances are if he is you’re there to deal with him. But if you’re not, and he’s especially needy, he’ll most likely call you up for a little phone session. The thought of you is incredible, but being able to see and hear you is even better

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think we all know the phrase kitty, right? Well inference leads me to believe that Shinsou would be down for trying out pet play. And yes, as I mentioned before, he would 100% have a collar for you with his name on it. I don’t take criticism for that one

L = Location (favorite places to do the dance with no pants)

More traditional. Sex between the two of you means intimacy, so he’d prefer privacy. You have yet to find a surface in your house he hasn’t tried to fuck you on. That being said, your comfort is of the utmost importance to Shinsou, so if he’s going to fuck you over the kitchen counter, he’s going to make sure you feel comfortable while he does it. So yes, that means he’ll take pillows off the sofa’s just to make you comfy

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going, etc)

You. Simple as. There are certain things that especially turn him on, such as you biting your lip or being extra attentive to him in what would seem like a normal scene to anyone else watching. Put your hand on his thigh when out at dinner and pay the price when you get home. Or maybe that was your plan all along

N = No (turn offs, something they wouldn’t do)

Shinsou never wants you to be in pain (well not unless you want to be in pain). He’ll leave hickies all over you, but that’s about as far as he’ll go with marking you. Maybe a spank here and there, but he won’t scar you or leave any marks that won’t be gone in a few days

O = Oral (do they prefer giving or receiving? how skilled are they?)

Shinsou prefers giving, but he’ll never say no to receiving either. He wants you to feel good, but if you decide to turn the tables he’s not going to deny you. Once you’re finished though, he’s repaying the favor tenfold. And just as a note, pull his hair when he goes down on you. He adores it

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Yes and yes. It all depends on the situation, his mood, the usual things. He’ll do whatever provides you with the most pleasure (while also allowing him to tease you)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies)

He doesn’t love them, but if they’re the only way to get some gratification then he’s willing (only if you are though). He’s careful about location, he doesn’t want someone walking in and ruining the whole thing, even if the risk of being caught makes everything a little more exciting. Chances are he won’t engage in quickies unless he’s been to the place at least once before (he wants to know which wall you’d look best pinned to). He has to feel slightly comfortable in the environment

R = Risk (how risky are they willing to be?)

He’s down for a little risk, but nothing that would be too mortifying for you. If he’s going to screw you somewhere other than your home, he’s going to vet the place over a lot, and find the best place where you have the comfort of being private but the thrill of being caught if someone were to venture too close to your hideout

S = Stamina (how long do they last? how many rounds?)

Freaking hell where does he get it from? Like, he just doesn’t stop. Not that that’s a bad thing, mind you. Most of the rounds consist of him pleasing you, and he’ll only give in and finally fuck you when your throat is hoarse from begging, or when he feels the smallest amount of pity at the tears rolling down your face (did someone say crying kink)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them on a partner or themselves?)

Vibrating panties. I said he doesn't physically act on desires when in public, but touching a remote isn’t the same thing as touching you, so he makes an exception. He’s not insanely cruel. For him it’s more about teasing that mortification, so if someone senses something’s wrong, he turns off the remote until they give up. But the moment they’re gone, it’s back stronger than ever

U = Unfair (how much do they tease?)

*roblox oof sound effect*

Once Shinsou gains his confidence with you, he’s not going back. His teasing is often coupled with praise, telling you how good you’re being for him while he denies you pure bliss again and again. He’ll edge you to hell and back if you give him the chance, but don’t worry, it’s worth it in the end

V = Volume (how they sound, how loud they are, etc)

Small moans and louder grunts are the main sounds coming from Shinsou when he’s enjoying himself. He swears a lot, and it’s always easy to tell how close he is to the edge by how creative his swears become. As for his partner, he wants to know how well he’s doing. He wants to hear you whine and beg while he edges you, and the pornstar-like moans that fill the air when he finally gives in and gives you what you really want

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

You think I forgot about his quirk. Ha, I could never. I said in my hcs that it takes a while for Shinsou to integrate quirk use into sex. As much as you assure him you’re in full trust, he’s anxious about the inability to say no when he has you under his control. The longer you’re together the more willing he is, but even when he does use it it’s usually a way to make edging even more dangerous, with you unable to resist his words when he tells you you’re not allowed to cum just yet

Okay maybe we have 2 wild cards this time cause I also wanna mention his capture weapon. Again, it’ll take a while for it to be available in a less-than-pg manner, but he’s more willing to use his capture weapon than his quirk. Main reason being, you can still use a safeword when tied up. But tying up goes both ways, so even if he prefers to be the one giving the pleasure, he’d never deny your wishes

X = X-ray (let’s have a looksee in those pants)

I’m trying not to be biased cause I love him so much but I feel like Shinsou’s kinda packing. A good 8.5-9 inches (no, I won’t take criticism) and on the skinnier side. But the amount of attention he gives you before his pants are even off means taking him is never difficult

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not the highest, but when you’re around it increases significantly. He’s not going to fuck you every time he sees you (I mean, he thinks about it) but he also isn’t a nun. It’s a good level, cause most days you can walk, and then on the weekends you’re a little bedridden

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s a bit of an insomniac, so screwing the energy out of him is one of the best ways to get Shinsou tired enough to sleep. He likes to hold you, so once he’s satisfied with the aftercare, he’ll crawl in bed for cuddles until the both of you pass out

[harveywritings92]

Soulmate AU: Shay Cormack X Reader

Au: your Soulmate gets a scar, you get a tattoo in the exact same place it disappears once your soulmate kisses it , Reader's tattoos resemble ivy vines with a small black flower with red tips blossoming on the ends.

 Y/n frowned as she heard giggling coming from behind her back, Her older sisters were laughing at her again or to be more specific her soulmate's mark, ever since it showed up they've been more rotten than usual, possibly out of all them she wants to meet her soulmate instead marrying the first rich sod that blinked at them.

Their parents obviously shared Y/n's churning as both were soulmates and always encouraged their daughters to seek out their soulmates. however, when the scars started showing on the twins there was no rejoice in their eyes; just disgust and annoyance. when they did meet their soulmates they laughed in their faces, declaring fate be damned they would never be with "the help" or some low waged dock worker!

Sara the oldest twin who soulmate was a stable boy in Lexington, She married the prominent banker's son and lives in New York. Who's unbeknownst to Sara cheating on her with his actual soulmate who is a man, Y/n was the one who caught him, but won't say anything because she knows what will happen to those poor boys should anyone find out. 

while Lana the younger of the two whose soulmate was a quartermaster and large shipping vessel, is a mistress of a disgusting plantain owner who was a two decades older her who claims he's going to leave his wife for her. (good luck with that!)  

They mock and chastised Y/n for chasing a pipe dream and rave about how ugly and poor her soulmate must be and he's probably a smelly drunkard for getting such an ugly marks on the y/ht woman's body, Y/n just kept a straight face while they and their gaggle of high-class hens peck and squawk at her supposed misfortune.

As their mother & father chided twins for picking on their sister, Y/n sighed and decided she needed a break from this posh gig and being mocked. The y/ht decided to take a walk, after changing out of her dress and into a shirt, jacket and trousers and wandered out into the streets of New York enjoying the silence, when a black blur suddenly slammed into her knocking the y/hc woman to the ground bringing whoever it was down with her. 

The y/nat woman wince and looked up to see what hit her y/ec met brown Y/n was suddenly forcibly hoisted up to her feet a man and dragged away as distant sound of several angry footsteps came barreling in their direction, the stranger dragged her into ally and covered her mouth "Don't make sound do as I say..." a hoarse voice hissed in her ear as a flask suddenly found it's way in her field of vision, the y/ht swallowed then awkwardly nodded. 

When the guards turned the corner they were met by two men one tall and y/ht awkwardly walking down the alley reeking of alcohol and the barely conscious one was just barely holding on to a flask, [Shay had tossed his jacket into a hay pile] "Oy you two," the y/nat 'man' turned to look at them while struggling to keep 'his' friend steady. "Eh, w-whaz ya wunt?" the annoyed soldier grimaced at their hoarse scratchy voice and assumed they were a young lad. "Did you see a man run by, wore a black hood?" Y/n stared blankly at the group leader trying to register what he had said then slurred out "Him rynning vy n' knuck meh n' frewns ohver.." the men looked very confused. "What?" another soldier answered.

" I believe he said 'he ran on by and knocked him and his friend over' sir." 

"oh.. did you see where he went?"

" waz halpin hin upf bot i tink i zaw 'im goh dat wah [points an unsteady finger towards the docks.]'

"Hmmm?!"

"He thinks he went that way {points in the same direction Y/n pointed in]"

"Thank you, Oh and lad? [Y/n and Shay tense.] take it easy with the ales..."

The y/ht woman awkwardly nodded as Soldiers rushed down the alleys towards the docks and Y/n sighed in relief when they finally left them alone, the man next to her stood up to his full height nearly dwarfing you in comparison; you were shocked that you were able hold him up giving the bulk on him,

{taller reader] you sighed annoyed seeing your were almost the same height if this man, if he knew you were female he'd surely be intimidated by that, almost all the men you've met felt threatened by your height... they avoided you like the plague. 

You sighed ready leave when your new "friend" suddenly moved your h/c bangs out of your face staring intently at your tattoos... your face felt hot when you realized he had the scars to match them, after a few seconds of silence the man broke the silence with a smile.

"I have to say, this was definitely not how I thought to meet you...Lass." You starred at him shocked that he guessed your gender, he chuckled before awkwardly pointing out that your neck tie had come lose and could you didn't have an Adam's apple. 

So needles to say the walk back to your home was a lively one Shay told you he was bounty hunter who worked for a private company, he seemed pretty interesting. you wanted to ask about this company? but were abruptly interrupted by the snobby laughter of your sisters and their friends having their little party. 

You grimaced debating if you should bring him inside however your Mother saw you through the window and waved.  You sighed annoyed walking up the porch and towards the firing squad...

third POV

The snobby whispers and giggling from the girls soon died down when Y/n walked in with a very handsome and well dressed man, the tall/petit woman grimaced seeing her sisters eyeing Shay like hungry bobcats, as her mother & Father stood up and walked over curiously eyeing the man next to their youngest daughter warily. "Y/n dear would you introduce us?" the older woman press hope was clear in her voice as Shay stood up a bit straighter.

"Shay Patrick Cormack ma'am, I'm uh...*ahem* Miss Y/n's soulmate." immediately Y/n's sister's expressions shifted into annoyance and jealousy they processed Shay's word's "I would like to know if I have your blessing.? I wish the court Y/n." He asked as Y/n's father eyed him reluctantly as his older daughter's whispered and boasted about this whole thing being a ruse, Y/n paying mister Cormack, but the second Mr. L/n noted the matching scars he knew this was real.

"Very well Mr. Cormac you may court my youngest, But be warned should you hurt her..." Shay assured him that he would never harm his fated one, before kissing Y/n on her cheeks making her tattoos disappear, causing the women in attendance to ooh and aww while her sisters glared venomously at her...  Of course Y/n could care less about what those harpies thought, from then on out she knew she'd be happy for as long as she was with Shay.

[marril96]

Out of the Woods

Chapter 1: Runaway

Characters: Rowena, Sam, Dean

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: An explosive argument leads to you running away and puts Rowena in danger.

A/N: Huge thanks to @hotdiggitydammit for helping me with the summary!

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

You and Rowena were screaming at each other, which wasn't nearly as common as people tended to think. You didn't care that you were in the middle of nowhere. You didn't care that Sam and Dean were looking at you, that they were focused on nothing but the two of you screaming your lungs out in each other's face like rabid beasts.

Let them watch.

After all, they were the ones who'd gotten you into this mess.

"I didn't wanna come here in the first place!" you yelled, wildly flailing your arms around to emphasize each word for there was nothing you could possibly say, could possibly do, to encompass just how much you didn't want to be here.

"Nobody held a gun to your bloody head!" Rowena argued.

Right. Because it was that easy. Because saying no was a walk in the fucking park.

"Was I supposed to let you come alone? With-with those two idiots—" you pointed at Sam and Dean, who both scowled, but you didn't care "—who've endangered your life more than once? One of whom is fated to kill you?"

"I don't need a nanny!" she snapped as she always did when you were protective. Because why acknowledge she wasn't as all-powerful as she thought when she could keep playing tough girl? "I've survived well enough on my own for over three centuries!"

"This is different!"

Back then she wasn't acquainted with hunters who'd managed to piss off God himself. She hadn't been fated to be killed by one of said hunters, who, for some reason you couldn't comprehend, happened to be her best friend. Hadn't suffered at the Devil's hand — more than once — and had the scars forever etched into her soul.

Back then she didn't have anyone who cared about her.

She didn't have you.

To your surprise, Rowena echoed it exactly. "Of course it's different! I didn't have you to nag at me every time I got a bloody paper cut!"

You stared. Swallowed a lump that had formed in your throat. Did she really just say that? Everything you'd done for her — all the love you'd showered her with, the tears you'd wiped away — and she had the audacity to trivialize it. To make you out to be a nagging wife.

"Wow." Because what else was there to say? She'd made her feelings clear, and quite loud. Louder than any fuck you she could have shouted. "You suck, you know that? You're a shitty girlfriend. I don't know why I even bother."

Two could play this game. You'd learned that from the very best.

Hurt flickered over Rowena's face; she instantly smoothed it out, covered it up with indifference you'd gotten to know well. "You're not exactly a walk in the park, either."

"I've done everything for you, and it's not enough. Nothing is ever enough with you."

Not the sleepless nights. Not the hugs and words of love. Not the promises that it was okay, that she was okay, that she was safe from the monster who'd hurt her — promises you'd kept to the very last word.

Not you.

You were never — would never be — enough.

"Maybe you're just doing a shoddy job," she said in that nonchalant tone she used to hurt people, to show them she didn't care.

It stung like a slap to the face. "Fuck you, Rowena!"

"Right back at you, dear."

You screamed. Stomped your foot like a child. Your nails bit into your skin as your fists tightened. Turning on your heel, you started walking in the opposite direction.

"Where in hell are you going?"

"I can't be around you right now." You looked to Sam and Dean, to their faces that told you they would rather be anywhere but here. You could relate. "I can't be around any of you."

If you were to stay for another moment, you would do something you would regret. Your magic was already boiling, fingertips sparking, eyes flashing purple. You needed to breathe. Needed to calm down. Needed to, for the first time in five long, long years, be away from your girlfriend.

"You can't just walk away!" Rowena said. "We aren't finished!"

A bitter chuckle escaped your mouth. "Why? Because that's your thing?" You meant for it to hurt, to make her heart ache as much as yours did. To pay back what you were owed for she was the last person you expected this kind of treatment from. "Don't worry, I'm not stealing. Just borrowing a page out of your book."

If she had a reaction to your words, you didn't see it. You just kept walking. One foot in front of the other, eyes straight ahead. You didn't look back until you were sure you were far enough away that the only thing to return your glance were trees.

Making sure you were alone — truly, blissfully alone — you wept. You sobbed and cried like an inconsolable child as your heart pulsed and pounded in your chest. A hammer beating against your ribcage, crushing it, tearing it apart.

You didn't want to be here. Didn't want to join the Winchesters on yet another case no different than the others before them — the ones they'd begged Rowena to help with as shamelessly as this one. The softie she'd become, she said yes, as she did every time they called. What Sam Winchester asked for, Sam Winchester got. Regardless of your objections.

You knew Rowena had changed. Understood her need to redeem herself for her past misdeeds, to make up for every life she'd taken and ruined. Helping the Winchesters gave her a sense of peace, of happiness. Of hope that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't irreparable, that the evil she'd inflicted could be negated with good.

The fact that she was putting herself in harm's way didn't seem to dissuade her.

So you went with her. If you couldn't talk her out of it, at the very least you could go with her to keep an eye on her, to make sure she was okay. Rowena welcomed your company, and had made it clear to the Winchesters the two of you were a package deal. Not that they minded. After all, two helpful witches were better than one.

Today was no different than any other day. A seemingly difficult case. Murdered women thrown out like trash, their naked bodies littered with bruises and welts, reminders of the brutality they'd succumbed to. No suspects. No leads. Nothing but a pentagram cut deep into each victim's chest.

A witch perpetrator, it was suspected. Or one that had been hunting witches — or women they'd suspected of being so — branding them loud and clear for the entire world to know their sin like a twisted scarlet letter.

Your bet was on the latter.

It only made you hope for the bastard to be found sooner.

At the same time, it made your nerves go off like fireworks. If there was an insane hunter out there, it wasn't safe for you and Rowena to work this case. What if one of you were to be taken? What if one of you were to be brutalized in the worst ways possible and thrown away like trash?

You both bore resurrection sachets, but still.

You'd already been through the aftermath of a similar ordeal with Rowena once. It would destroy you (and, despite how nonchalant she acted, demolish her) to go through it again.

Rowena, ever the contrarian, disagreed. Or rather, she didn't care. She wanted to help. Wanted to make the bastard who'd been doing this pay for ever putting his hands in a witch. You would be okay, she assured you. She wouldn't let any harm come your way. If he were to even look at you wrong, she would make sure the ordeal that waited for him in Hell would be Heaven compared to what she would put him through.

As if that was the point. As if that made your worries — for her, for her wellbeing — subside for even a sliver.

But, as always, Rowena was stubborn, and were you, and soon you were screaming in each other's face.

And now here you were, crying your eyes out in the middle of an unknown forest, your back against a tree, nothing but a sea of trees and overgrown weeds around you.

Gods. That woman would be the death of you. As impossible as she was, as much as her words hurt, you couldn't make yourself hate her. You never could; not back when she was a heartless bitch, when she cared about nothing but herself, and certainly not now, four years into the relationship you never thought would happen.

Rowena had changed. She truly had. But, gods, sometimes it was a struggle to handle her. She was difficult to love. Impossible, almost, but you managed it. Sometimes, like now, you wished you hadn't. Because hating her would be easier. It would make her words sting less. Would make her disappointment in you, her lack of appreciation for all you've done for her, hurt less.

Being in love was a bitch.

Being in love with Rowena was one of massive proportions.

That was what you got for falling in love with someone who used to brag about being unable to feel anything remotely close to affection.

That woman was long gone, but remnants of her still lived on. A perfect weapon Rowena happily utilized, aimed it straight at the heart for maximum damage.

If you weren't enough, who would be? What was it that she wanted you to do? You'd given her your all, and more, so much more. Had pushed yourself to your limits for her sake. Mistakes were made along the way, and learned from. You'd always strived to do better, be better; a better carer, a better girlfriend.

Clearly not the best. Lacking. Not enough. Never enough.

Knees trembling, you allowed yourself to slide to your knees. You buried your face in your hands, muffled the sobs that kept tearing from your throat. Willed them to silence.

You couldn't understand Rowena like Sam. Couldn't make her PTSD go away. Couldn't make her better, happier. There was nothing of value you could give her. A few soft words, kisses, and hugs could only do so much.

Maybe she was right. Maybe you were doing a shoddy job.

But still, you tried. You did your best. Gave your all; blood, sweat, and tears. You weren't perfect, nobody was, but if that was what Rowena had an issue with, well, it was her problem.

You could only give her so much.

Was it too much to ask for the smallest shred of gratitude in return?

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange​ @songofthecagedmoose​ @apurdyfulmind​ @getthesalt-sam​ @metallihca​ @salembitchtrials​ @jay-eris​ @hellsmother​ @elizabeth-effie​ @shadowgirl-vsb​ @rowenaswife​ @wonderifshelikesroses​ @xfireandsin​ @liddell-alien​ @hotdiggitydammit​ @lae-lae​ @darkhumorsblog​ @angel7376​ @cherrypierowena​ @evil-regal-vampiress​ @hellbentredhead​ @angel-e-v-a​ @a-queen-and-her-throne​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @mintymarshmellows​ @midnight-lestrange​ @osterhagen​ @impala-1979​ @gracib16​ @feelsandotps​

[cottoncandyjester]

Your OCs are so cute! How would they handle a darling that counters them i.e. theo w/ someone who can see through his manipulation, hikari w/ someone who refuses to be belittled, prince w/ a prudish or nonsexual darling?

Oh such a good question! thank you very much for the praise they are my babies ✨

This story contains: talk of sex, talk of abuse,drugs, mutilation, manipulation yandere behavior

Theodore

You don't fall for his bullshit

His emotional manipulation doesn't work on you

This both frustrated and amazed him

You were much stronger than he thinks

But it annoys him that he can't go the simple and painless route for this

Everytime he tries to manipulate you it usually ends with you shutting him down

"darling, my sweet angel won't it be much smarter if you stayed with me..listen to me"

"nope. I do what I want"

Wait you can't say that! That's illegal!

He immediately panicked and used force to knock you out

If his words won't work then it seems he has to keep you heavily sedated

Being a med student has beautiful benefits

He doesn't want to keep you like this but it's just until you comply

"angel? Sweetie..? Can you tell me what day it is?"

Silence.

A sigh escaped him as he watched your dull glazed eyes stare back into his, you definitely were too out of it to respond back. He unbuckled the straps he had put on the wheelchair before scooping you up and walking to the bedroom to place you into bed.

"maybe when the drugs wear off you'll be better yeah? I really hate seeing you like this..I miss our conversations and I miss your adorable fiery behavior even if it was a tad bit frustrating"

As he slid his jacket off he crawled into the bed with you hugging you close with a happy sigh inhaling the smell of your hair now

"we can try again tomorrow"

Hikaru

You brush off his insults and he hates it

His temper explodes and so he reacts in violence

Pure rage and violence

He'll put a permanent scar or mark on you that everyone could see

You will definitely have to deal with his feral side

He wants to be sweet and loving to you but he will also do what it takes to have you

You make things such a challenge

If fear of death makes you stay than damn it that's what he has to do

"come to me cutie, don't you want to cuddle?"

"I rather chew nails"

"the hell did you say, pig?"

His sharp tone made you huff lightly, his degrading was nothing new to you if anything you would just throw it right back at him

"you're th pig not me. You are as ugly as one"

Uh oh.

Hikaru tensed up and scowled before walking over to you and gripping you by your hair, giving it a harsh tug and pulling you on your knees in front of him

"listen here bitch, watch your damn mouth before I cut your tongue off! You stupid selfish disgusting-"

Hikaru Inhaled deeply letting out a shaky breath as he let go and cupped your face in his hands his blue eyes swirling with a devilish idea

"you know..you don't need fingers and a tongue to be adorable darling. I'll love you either way, so maybe it's time to make some changes"

Axis

No matter how helpless and pathetic he looks you won't fall for it

He could have been sobbing into your lap begging you to stay and you'll just push him off

This wasn't good

His method didn't work

He had to come up with something new

He restored to desperate measures

If you were handicapped as well you would have no choice but to stay

Doesn't want to hurt you

Sobs while doing it

Will only do it if all other choices fail

"p-please stay-"

"no, I'm leaving for good. Nothing you say will change that"

Axis was on his knees begging you to stay, he was crying so hard now knowing what had to be done. He leaned his head against your stomach with a gentle sigh as he slipped a hand into his pocket

"I understand, after all you can walk out if you wish just know that i love you"

"thank you for being understanding axis now please le-"

You winced and screamed when the male stabbed a needle into your thigh looking up at you his eyes pouring with tears, he looked like it hurt him more than it did you

"i-its okay honey! I'll treat you well, I'll just do something quick and easy like break your legs or maybe paralyze you from the waist down, we can be broken together"

He stood up as you were becoming limp in his arms and he peppered kisses lovingly along your face and neck with a happy hum

"I love you my sweetie"

Prince

Okay...no sex on the first day got it he can wait a day

A week later. No sex..okay?

Two weeks went by and now he was getting worried

You cringed at the utter mention of sex

He was going through a withdrawal

It was driving him crazy how much of a prude you were

Poor boy was being blueballed and he didn't like it

Pleasuring himself was totally not enough

He wanted to feel you

This was how he showed his love and the fact that he couldn't made him pissed

Hell your clothes covered your entire body

You even wore wet suits at the beach

WHO DOES THAT?!

by two months he had snapped

He couldn't take it anymore

He restored to drugging your drink with several aphrodisiacs

He kinda went crazy and mixed a bunch of different ones together

After that it doesn't take long til you are panting and writhing from the feeling

He was only being a sweetheart and decided to help

"what's wrong baby?"

Prince smirks against his beer can as he watched you press your legs together whining and whimpering as your body felt like it would melt.

"i-i feel hot..so hot"

Prince made sure to strike during a cuddle session, he put his can down and held you close tightly looking at you curiously, his smirk only getting wider when he saw just how adorable you looked

"should I help you!"

"i-we shouldn't-"

"do you want to suffer?"

That statement made you whine as he trailed his hands along your body watching you squirm around wildly

"calm down, I'll be gentle I'm just trying to help baby cUse this feeling won't go away on its own"

He will have to use drugs more often

Yuki

Blackmail doesn't work on you

You have nothing to lose it seems

This annoyed him

He just wants to love you why are you being so mean

He just wants to love you

He is normally too lazy for force but if he has to he will

His use of force will just be tying you up and holding you close

If he has to gag you he will

He will make sure you won't leave

Every escape you try is only met with disappointment

He always stays calm

Until you decide to break his fantasy

"leave me alone!"

"be kinder to your boyfriend..."

"oh my fucking God! You aren't my boyfriend! We aren't anything you are just a sicko who is obsessed with me! Go away!"

"but-"

I DONT WANT YOU! I NEVER WILL!"

There was silence after that and a soft sniffle escaped him before he simply reached out fast gripping your wrist while using his free hand to wipe his tears.

"that's not true- not true not true. You just forgot I'll have to remind you just how much I love you"

With that he threw you over his shoulder while tears rolled down his cheeks, he needed a good nap to sleep the depression away and if course you will be at his side so he can cuddle but first he has to take care of you.

You were so mean so he figured he can use his piercing kit to do something about that mouth, he's never pierced someone's mouth shut but maybe he can do that

[ikeromantic]

Kitsune Haunting

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic, approx 2500 words, silliness and sort of scares? 

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous:  A Fun Lesson

This fic is a little longer than most of my posts. This one was inspired by one little line in the game . . .When Mitsuhide and MC reach the Chugoku province, the chatelaine reflects on their trip (which we didn’t get to see!) - she mentions that one night, Mitsuhide ‘haunted’ her. If you like it, I might post a part 2 with additional shenanigans.

Mitsuhide listened to the whispers of the bamboo forest. He found it soothing. The music of wind and branch was so different from the hum of Azuchi. There were no human voices to interrupt his thoughts. No politics here, or plots. Only the endless sea of green, and the long shadows cast by the setting sun. 

His little mouse did not look to be enjoying the ride as much as he. She kept turning her head at each clack and clatter. Her shoulders were tense too. Perhaps she feared bandits, he thought. Or something worse? His lips curled into a small, wicked smile. 

“We’ll camp here,” he called to her when they reached a small clearing. The bamboo grew far enough apart to place their bedrolls, and to dig a small fire pit for cooking. But the leaves covered the red and gold of the sunset with their greenery, sliding slowly to black as the light left. 

“Can’t we keep going? I thought we would be out of the forest before dark.” She hunched her shoulders and squinted at the dim-lit path ahead. “It’s probably not much further, right?”

Mitsuhide kept a straight face. “Perhaps, but I do not want to risk the horses. They could trip on a dark path, and we would be delayed.” 

She sighed and nodded. “I didn’t think about that.” Then she dismounted stiffly. The chatelaine was unused to long rides, or riding in general. Though she didn’t complain, her discomfort showed in every stilted movement as she unbuckled her pack and began to unload the horse.

“I can do that,” Mitsuhide told her after a moment of watching this awkward dance. “You go stretch, try to get comfortable.”

His little one gave a grateful smile. “If you insist.” She stepped away from her horse and stretched her arms over her head. “I feel like my spine is half fire. If fire was steel. Bending it hurts.”

“Riding all day is hard at first,” he agreed as he removed the packs and saddles, and began to rub down the mounts. “You do get used to it eventually.”

“You must do this a lot.” She sounded a little jealous. “How long does it take to - to not feel like you were beaten with hammers at the end of the day?”

Mitsuhide shrugged. “I don’t remember when I stopped being bothered.” He glanced at her over his shoulder and grinned. “Maybe you can tell me the exact moment riding becomes comfortable?”

She frowned at him. 

After the gear was unpacked and the horses cared for and fed, Mitsuhide dug a small fire pit and got out their rations. Onigiri tightly wrapped in a bamboo sheath. The rice was flecked with black sesame and filled with pickled plum. He handed her the travel food, knowing she would eat it even if she wished for something sweet. 

“Thanks,” she said, resting back on the bedroll Mitsuhide laid out for her. “These aren’t bad. Did Masamune make them?”

“Yes.” He did not tell her Masamune tried to send them off with all sorts of experimental recipes for traveling. He’d turned them all down, opting for something quick and easy to eat, simple to pack. Besides, more elaborate food might break their cover if they were searched. 

“His food is always so good,” she sighed. Her eyes were focused up, on the little glimpses of starry night sky. 

Mitsuhide felt a stab of jealousy. He did his best to ignore it. His little mouse could taste things, so of course she preferred Masamune’s cooking. It meant nothing. 

A loud crack interrupted the quiet. It sounded close. The chatelaine squeaked and reached for her pack, where she kept a small knife. 

“Frightened?” It was normal to hear snapping branches at night, as animals prowled the forest. Sometimes it was just a stalk too old to stand against the wind. Whatever the cause, it wasn’t a human sound and so he was not worried.

His little mouse shook her head, chin jutting out defiantly. “No. But it could be a monkey or - or a bandit.”

He laughed softly, which did nothing to calm her down. “What if I told you I was sure it is neither of those things?”

“Why should I believe you?” Her temper was still hot.

“Mmm, because I have traveled this forest several times. And I can tell you for certain that no bandit would prowl here at night. Even the monkeys are wise enough to stay away.” An idea took form right then, a little piece of fun.

The red in her cheeks drained away as he spoke, leaving her pale. “W-what do you mean?”

Mitsuhide gave his crescent moon grin, all wickedness and sharp edges. “Because, little one, this place is haunted.”

“Heh, y-yeah. Now you’re trying to scare me on purpose! Stop teasing.”

“Oh? Then I won’t tell you why travelers avoid this place.” He finished his meal and stood.

The chatelaine watched him, her whole body tense despite her defiant attitude. “Where are you going?”

“I will check around the camp, and the path ahead. I want to keep you safe, even if you don’t believe there is danger.” He stepped silently outside the small circle of firelight. She watched him go without saying anything else. But she did pull the knife from her pack, setting it, still sheathed, beside her.

Her determination to be brave was adorable, but it made him want to tease her more. As he walked the perimeter of their tiny camp, he picked up bits of dead, dry bamboo stalks. He put a few holes in them, and with a bit of thread, hung them high in the branches. They began to catch the breeze almost immediately, adding a soft, low warble to the rustling leaves.

Then he went a bit further afield to a nearby pond - it was easy to find by the night sounds of the forest toads. He scooped up a large male and laughed softly as it wriggled in his hand. “Don’t worry. I am not going to eat you, gama. We are going to help each other tonight. I just need you to sing.” 

The toad let out a long, rasping cry in response. Perfect. He loosed it a few feet from the chatelaine’s bedroll, where she sat staring at the fire, oblivious to his presence. 

When he came back to camp, announcing his arrival with a purposefully loud step, she stood to greet him. “Oh! You- you were gone awhile. Everything ok?”

“I found nothing . . . unexpected.” He looked at her solemnly. “But I think we should both stay here, near the fire, until dawn.”

“You - you’re just taunting me. Is there anything out there or not?”

Mitsuhide sat down on his bedroll and stretched out his legs. From the darkness on her side of the camp, came a harsh croaking. It was loud and held for several heartbeats. 

“Ah! What is that?” She spun to stare at the bamboo thicket.

“I was going to tell you but . . . you said to stop.” Mitsuhide shrugged. “Do you want to know or not?”

“I - yes. Please tell me.”

He regarded her with narrowed eyes. He could tell her heartbeat was fast, her eyes were wide. She pulled her mat closer to the fire pit. 

“You must promise not to interrupt.”

His little mouse nodded.

“Good. Then I will tell you why wise travelers avoid this forest, especially at night. It was before I was born, when my parents were young. There was a Chugoku princess known through the nearby provinces for her extraordinary beauty and her cunning. Her father refused to marry her off to the many suitors that came to their castle, because he cherished her. His youngest child and only daughter. And he relied on her wise advice.”

The chatelaine opened her mouth to ask a question, but caught herself. He could tell she was trying very hard to abide by his request. She was so cute, holding her curiosity in, that he almost gave her a chance to speak.

“Eventually, of course, a young warrior came to court her. He was very handsome, and wealthy. The princess was quite taken with him, as were most of the women in the castle. From the princess’ maid, to her elder mother.”

“This sounds like a fairy tale,” his little mouse said.

Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow in disapproval.   

She clamped a hand over her mouth.

“I will pretend you said nothing. As to the truth of this story, you may ask some of the older servants at the castle - they will tell you the truth of it. Some still live that knew the princess, her maid, and the young warrior.”

The chatelaine’s eyes grew wider, and as if planned, a gust of wind made the improvised bamboo pipes give a fluting wail. 

“Now, as I said. All the women in the castle were taken with the young warrior, but none so much as the princess and her maid.” Mitsuhide looked out into the dark forest and gave a heavy sigh. 

“The maid was as ugly as the princess was beautiful. A girl disfigured by a terrible burn. Her face was twisted into a grimace that marked her out from even the plain women of Chugoku. The princess was the only one to look past her scarring and see the intelligent, kind woman behind it. The two were inseparable, until that charming warrior came.” 

His little mouse nodded, her hand still covering her mouth as if she was afraid she would speak again. 

“Though no one knew it then, it was the maid that gave the wise advice everyone sought from the princess. She spent her time reading and watching, listening to people. She knew the town’s most closely held secrets. The princess relied on her knowledge and her spying. And so, when the maid fell in love with the warrior, she begged the princess to let her try and win his affection. She thought she was owed at least the chance to find love. The princess only laughed.”

Mitsuhide did his best to imitate a woman’s voice. “No one would love a girl as ugly as you. Now get to your room and stop asking me for the impossible! I will marry that warrior, and you will always be just an ugly, unwanted maid.” 

His little mouse looked appropriately horrified by that cruelty.

“The maid told her, ‘If you don’t at least let me try to win his heart, I will tell everyone the true source of your wisdom. They will know you are nothing but an empty-headed doll. Pretty but stupid.’ Enraged, the princess beat her, and drove the maid from the castle.”

“And she came to this forest to live?” The chatelaine asked, unable to help herself.

Mitsuhide shook his head. “If only she had. No. After the maid left, the princess began to worry that the maid would tell everyone the truth. She devised a plan to stop her. The princess called the warrior to her room and began to weep. She claimed that the maid threatened to curse her. She said the burned girl was a witch, and that she was afraid for her life. The warrior was uncertain, but he wanted to win the heart of the beautiful princess. After drying her tears, he agreed to find the maid and take her to the forest, where he would slay her and bury her bones far from the castle. Then the princess could be safe. And in return, she would marry him.”

The forest toad rasped another desperate cry. His little mouse jumped at the sound, her head whipping around to look back at the bamboo grove. “C-can I come sit with you? While you finish the story?”

Mitsuhide nodded. He made a space for her beside him where she sat, her leg brushing against his.

“Now, the maid was no fool. She feared the princess would lie about her, but she could not believe the warrior would harm her. Especially when he came to her hovel and asked if she would walk with him, and talk. He seemed so sincere. She wanted to believe he came because he worried for her. The maid told him that it was her wisdom on the princess’ lips that made the beautiful girl famous.” 

He slipped an arm around his little mouse, and remarkably, she only settled against him without a single word of protest.

“The warrior believed her. After all, witches have great wisdom. Knowing this did not change his plan. He brought the maid here, to this forest. The whole way, he listened to her talk about her life. Her dreams. She opened up her heart to him, believing he cared. It was only when the warrior told her to kneel before him that the maid realized what he intended to do. She begged for her life. She promised him anything he wanted, if only he would let her live. The maid told him that she loved him. Her words fell on deaf ears. The warrior saw only the princess’ beauty and wanted nothing to do with the wise but ugly maid.”

“Men are so stupid,” the chatelaine murmured.

“Sometimes,” Mitsuhide agreed, thinking of how he had been so easily ensnared by a pretty girl. “Stupid or not, the warrior cut off her head. Then he carried her body away from the well traveled path, and buried her in an unmarked grave. The princess waited for him, but when she felt it was taking too long, she slipped away from the castle and walked the forest path, looking for her love.”

“Oh no.” His little mouse breathed the words into his chest, her eyes half-closed.

The warlord smiled down at her. “You are right to worry. The princess met her warrior on his way back from burying the poor maid. He swept her into his arms, smearing her with blood and grave dirt. He told her it was done, and she was so excited that he had done her bidding, that she kissed him. And then the warrior laid her on the forest floor and made love to her.”

Mitsuhide shifted, definitely not thinking about taking his little one here, in this clearing. Not thinking about that at all. 

“The maid’s spirit could not rest, not with such a violent death at the hands of the man she loved. And not after witnessing this final betrayal. She appeared before them, holding her head in her hands. She threw it at the princess, gnashing her teeth and wailing. The princess caught it, and died right there from fright. The warrior should have died then too, but the maid could not kill him. She still loved him. Instead, she cursed the warrior to a life of loneliness.”

“That is . . . so sad,” the chatelaine murmured. Her eyes were closed now, almost asleep.

“It is. The warrior returned to the castle, and found that all had turned against him. They say he died some years later, a lonely and bitter man whose heart was stone. The princess’ body was retrieved from the forest, but the servants that brought it back swore they heard weeping and gnashing teeth. And after that, many beautiful maidens disappeared in this place. The men that travel these roads say they hear the maid, still crying. Her teeth clacking together.”

Another gust of wind rattled the branches and sent low tones skirling into the night air. 

His little mouse shivered. “N-none of that is true. It’s just a - a story.” Her sleepy voice sent a happy chill through Mitsuhide. He imagined she would sound like that early in the morning, waking before dawn to make love and then fall asleep again.

“Ah, it was told to me as a true story. But I have never feared these woods. Even if they are haunted by a maid that curses men to loneliness. I am already cursed.” 

“Mmm, yeah,” the chatelaine agreed, “but I’m not. Can I . . . sleep next to you?” Her eyes opened a fraction.

“Of course. I would not want to lose you to a vengeful spirit.” Or anything else. He laid her down on his mat, and watched as she drifted off to sleep. Such folktales had their uses, he thought. Like frightening silly, sweet girls.

Next: Kitsune Dawn

[horrorslashergirl]

Cock warming with asa, jesse, Hannibal, and Jason?

Who doesn’t love some slasher cock warming? I certainly do! Warning! Very nsfw below.

Cock warming with Slashers

The Collector/Asa Emory

It was another one of these nights where you spend your time at the hotel, where Asas’ collection resided, but unlike other nights, your boyfriend was not in the mood for a dissection.

That's how you ended in one of the luxury suites of the hotel, on a king-sized bed with Asa between your legs, your clothes long forgotten on the floor, making your naked self shiver from the cold air, unlike your boyfriend who was fully dressed.

“I-It’s not fair! You are fully dressed...I’m cold.” you complained, only for him to grind his hips into yours, making his rock hard length brush your insides.

You let out a moan, your cheeks a deep red from embarrassment.

“Stop complaining, little girl.” he growled in your ear, his hot breath hitting your skin, making goosebumps appear.

Sometimes he surprised you; when he got into The Collector persona, he wasn’t that nerdy awkward next door guy, but a sadistic predator.

Right now he was more than sadistic, he was a complete monster, his cock buried inside you, but not thrusting, more like taking in all the heat your lower part produced, plus the occasional twitch of his length.

“A-Asa!” you whimpered, only for him to give your left buttcheek a harsh slap. His obsidian eyes looking down at you with a glare.

“I-I mean...Mr. Collector.” you whispered, biting your lower lip.

A dark smirk crossed his plush lips, giving a grind on your heat.

“Good.”

Chromeskull/Jesse Cromeans

“Y-You cheeky bastard! I’m trying to watch a movie!” you yelled at your boyfriend, trying to control the moans that wanted to escape your mouth.

Tonight you wanted to watch a movie with Jesse, but he insisted on choosing the movie. You could care less until the movie began. It was more of a horror/romance one with erotic scenes. You weren’t exactly surprised, it is Jesse we’re talking about.

So he decided to pull you onto his lap in the middle of the movie, pulling your panties aside and burying his rock hard cock into your heat. It was no chance in stopping this behemoth of a man to achieve what he wanted,

“Jesse!” you moaned/yelled, only for him to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling your back flush against his naked chest. The other hand moved down in-between your legs.

“J-Jesse! I’m serious! Don’t you dare-” before you could say any more colorful words he pinched your clit with two of his fingers, rolling it in slow circular motions, making you threw your head back and rest against his broad shoulder.

You felt his scarred lips brush against your neck, kissing and biting as he worked you down, his length resting all good inside you, the head of his cock brushing from time to time against your sweet spot.

You knew he wasn’t going to pull out anytime soon; he did once or twitch something like this, resting inside you all night and you woke up with his hard-on all snuggled inside you.

You turned your head to see his face and glared at him.

“You aren’t going to let me easy, are you?” you asked Jesse who only shook his head and smirked naughtily at you.

Hannibal Lecter

You knew it was bad trying to tease Hannibal when he was cooking, but it was oh so tempting. Now you didn’t know anymore, been pinned with your front against the kitchen counter with Hannibal flush against your behind.

Even so, you cursed yourself for wearing a skirt, your panties pulled down to your ankles and taken by Hannibal who pulled them in the pocket of his pants.

What was even more maddening was how his length rested all so nice and warm in your pulsing heat, balls deep and giving you an occasional grind here and there to have your attention.

“You are such a rude little girl.” he murmured against your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth, making you whimper as your knuckles turned white from gripping the edge of the kitchen counter so tightly.

“H-Hannibal....please.” you begged, your clit throbbing for attention.

“What did you say?” he growled against your skin, making your skin crawl.

“D-Daddy?” you questioned, trying to see if you were right.

“Mmmm....much better, darling.” he whispered, his cock twitching inside you as he continued to where he left with separating the eggs.

“W-What are you doing?” you asked in a whisper.

“Preparing dinner, love...And you will stay like this until I am finished.” he said with a dark hint, making your eyes widen.

Jason Voorhees

You looked up into the eyes of your lover who looked down at you with his own eyes wide open, which were full of surprise, lust, and embarrassment.

“Jason...Mmmmm....My handsome strong man.” you praised him, running your hands up and down his big powerful arms to his biceps, all naked for you to see.

He gave the first thrust only for you to wrap your legs around him, making him be buried all the way inside, resting.

“Don’t move...I love you to stay inside.” you whispered, your lower muscles clenching against his cock, trapping him inside you. He gave a slow nod, trembling from the shocks of pleasure you gave him.

Looking down at your body he noticed the bulge his length made on your skin from the inside, so big and girthy, he couldn’t help but to touch it with his fingertips, making you shiver and moan.

“You’re so big...and warm.” you murmured, your hands rubbing circles against the skin of his powerful hips.

Now you took your time observing all the scars on his chest, shoulders, abdomen. They told you stories, how powerful and strong your lover was, how deadly he can be, but now? He was the most gentle man you could ever wish for.

“J-Just....stay inside...me.....for the night.” you said, bringing him down and kissing the hockey mask, where his lips would be.

He nodded, his eyes full of love and warmness.

He couldn’t ask for more.

[whump-tr0pes]

HB4-24/Whumptober day 2

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3.

AO3

Masterlist

~

Content warning: dissoci@tion, PTSD, non-sexual nudity (I’ll tag nsfw just because), panic attack, discussion of death, mild self-harm (using pain from injury to self-punish), self-blame, parental neglect, self-image issues with scars

~

“Shit.”

The person in Isaac’s arms wormed his way out of his grasp. Isaac wailed brokenly and curled into a tight ball.

The blankets were pulled up over his naked body, and he lay still and senseless under them. There was a rummaging sound, thumps as if someone was stumbling around the room, a rustle of fabric.

A door opened. Someone walked in, but Isaac was alone.

“What happened?”

“G-Gray, I… He had a nightmare. It was… really, really bad. He woke up crying and I… tried to calm him down, I don’t know how to do this, I tried to do what you do with the breathing but he couldn’t breathe and it didn’t help…”

“Gavin, could… could it be possible that you being here…? Do you think it might be better if…?”

“I don’t know. He said it was about his mother, and… and Rosa, he said, she’s the one who kicked him out…”

“Ah. That’s… something he’s never really talked about with us before.”

“Why is it coming up now? Why isn’t he… I mean, shouldn’t he be having nightmares about—”

“He’s safe now. When the brain senses that the danger has passed, it begins to release its trauma. It’s a very normal reaction.”

“But he’s… it’s bad, Gray…”

“I understand. Would you like to stay here? Or do you need some time to yourself?”

“No. No. I want to stay here. I want to… to help… I want to learn how to do this right.”

“I have no doubt you were doing the right thing, Gavin. There’s no perfect way to handle this.”

Creaks on the floor. Then a dip on the bed where someone sat down. Isaac covered his head with his arms. Wishing he could disappear.

“Oh, um… d-don’t, don’t pull the blanket back. He’s… um… naked under, under there.”

A pause.

“I had no intention to, Gavin, but I appreciate the warning just the same.”

A gentle hand landed on Isaac’s shoulder. “Isaac?”

Isaac reached for the muscles that controlled his lips and tongue. He couldn’t quite find them.

“Isaac? Can you talk to me?”

Maybe if he was there, he could. But he couldn’t find his body.

“Isaac… nod your head if you can hear me.”

He felt around for those muscles. That, he could do.

“Good. Isaac, are you here right now? Or… somewhere else?”

Where is here?

I think I’m here.

“Huuumn.” He felt like he was speaking past a mouthful of clay.

“Hm. Does that mean you’re here in this room with me? Up north? Nod if that’s true.”

He nodded. His body felt light, like it was floating.

“Alright. Gavin said you had a nightmare. Can you realize that it’s not real, and you’re here right now?”

Those deaths were real. Those deaths are on me.

Isaac sobbed and turned his face against the mattress.

“Shh.” Fingers moved gently through his hair. It felt like he was being touched through a blanket over his head, but he could see light. The room. “Can you come back to your body now?”

Isaac lay frozen, suspended. Maybe.

“Isaac take some deep breaths.”

Where are the muscles for that?

Found them.

His chest moved, expanded. Distantly, he felt pain. Leaned into it. Leaned into the punishment.

“Good. Let it out.”

The air rushed out of him with a groan.

“Gavin, come here. Come sit with him. Isaac, breathe in, hold… Unless he doesn’t want to be touched – let it out, Isaac, there you go – having a hand on him can be very grounding. Isaac, breathe in… I’m sorry, I should have asked if I could touch you. Is that alright?”

Isaac nodded weakly.

“Alright. Can Gavin touch you?”

“P-pluuuh.”

“…please? Please yes, or please no?”

“Mmmn.”

“He can’t answer, so it’s a no for now. Just be there for him. Try not to get overwhelmed.”

“I’m sorry, I just… got scared…”

“It’s alright. It’s hard to watch someone you love hurt like this. Isaac, keep taking those big, deep breaths. There you go.”

“But it’s so… easy. For you.”

“Let it out. No, it’s not. It’s hard, and it hurts. Every time.”

“Then how—”

“I have the benefit of decades of experience, Gavin. And professional training. Just remember, you don’t have to do it perfectly. Good. Keep breathing, Isaac.”

“But I messed it up—”

“You didn’t. And even if you do, that’s alright. He’ll forgive you. If you want to do this for the others, they’ll forgive you when you mess up, too. And he… I promise you, he will forgive you for your mistakes. He loves you, Gavin.”

Silence.

“Isaac, you’re doing so well. Can you talk to me?”

“Um…” He could. Everything came crashing down again.

“Isaac—”

He shuddered and heaved a sob against the mattress. “M-my, fault it’s, my, my fault, I can’t…”

“Shh. It’s not. Keep breathing. Just keep breathing. It’s alright.”

“M-mom, she, she, I… just wanted…” The core of him shattered under the weight of his agony. He shivered and convulsed against the pain. “I just wanted her to hold me!”

“I know,” Gray said. Their hand found his and squeezed. “I know.”

“And she… didn’t! I… a-asked her to, and she just… she didn’t want to touch me, didn’t want to look at me. I just… I can’t…”

“You deserved that comfort, Isaac. I’m so sorry she didn’t give it.”

“I… my dad was gone and my mom… I didn’t know how to… to make it better, I just…” His throat closed around a sob. “I just, just wanted her to hold me!”

“That sounds so painful, Isaac. That sounds… d-devastating.”

“I was, um…” Isaac choked and coughed hard, the sheets wet with tears and everything else that was dripping off his face. “I was just…” His voice tightened to a whisper. “I was alone.”

“I know you were,” Gray said, their voice pitched low, but still trembling.

“I just wanted her to love me again.” Isaac shuddered, the feeling coming back to his hands. His body ached like he’d been beaten.

“Isaac… is that something you would want now? Just to be near us, for us to just sit with you? For us to hold you?”

Isaac whimpered and covered his face with his hand. “I… y-yes. Please…?”

“Alright. Let’s get some, ah, pants on first.”

“Where’s Gavin?”

“Right here, Isaac.” A different hand, running down the inside of his forearm. Gray’s hand withdrew, and Gavin’s hand replaced it to lace his fingers through Isaac’s.

Isaac peeled his eyes open. He hadn’t even realized they were closed.

Gavin’s face swam above him, with Gray’s beside it. Gavin looked ready to burst into tears. He was clothed, now. Gray’s face was pinched where their calm mask couldn’t cover their pain.

“P-pants,” Isaac croaked. “Sure. Um. Pants.” He shivered, his scars suddenly burning with his shame. “And a shirt.” He pulled the blanket higher over his shoulder.

“I’ll give you some privacy for that,” Gray said quietly, and stood up with a groan, their joints creaking. “Ugh. I’ll be right out here when you’re, ah, ready.”

“Thanks,” Isaac said, scrubbing his face with his hand. The door clicked closed behind Gray.

Isaac cast his gaze around the room and it settled on Gavin, sitting on the bed, his hand still clasped with Isaac’s. Gavin was pale, his lips trembling, his eyes wide and filling with tears as Isaac watched.

“S-sorry,” Isaac said darkly.

Gavin huffed out a breath. “Don’t… please don’t.”

Isaac fell silent. Gavin gently pulled his hand away and stood from the bed. The mattress squeaked as he did.

“Let me get you the, uh…” Gavin laughed once, painfully. “…the sweats and shirt I think you were supposed to be wearing.”

Isaac sat up and groaned. He reached for a tissue from the box on the nightstand and blew his nose. Then he used another to wipe his eyes. The used tissues went into the trash can in the corner.

“Here.” Gavin held out the pants and shirt for Isaac to put on.

The shirt went on first, covering Isaac’s scars. Gavin chewed his lip as Isaac pulled the shirt down around his waist. Then he slid the pants on, standing briefly to pull them up before collapsing back onto the bed. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely push himself back against the headboard. He pulled his knees in tight to his chest.

Gavin went to the door and gestured to Gray to come in. As Gray walked back in, they briefly clasped Gavin’s shoulder and squeezed. Gavin shivered as he closed the door behind them.

Gray sat down next to Isaac, groaning as they leaned back against the headboard. “Pass me that pillow,” they said heavily, just a hint of a laugh in their voice. “I’m too old to be sitting without lumbar support.”

Isaac numbly passed Gray his pillow and watched as they tucked it behind their back. “That’s better,” they croaked. “But damn if these beds aren’t ideal for those of us with back pain.”

“They’re alright,” Isaac said, his voice flat.

Gray paused, their mouth in a hard line. “Hm. They’re not the worst,” they conceded softly. They gestured to Gavin. “Have a seat. On his other side.”

Gavin walked around the foot of the bed, his eyes flicking between Isaac and Gray like he’d be chased from the room. He sat down beside Isaac, far enough away that their legs didn’t touch.

Gray put an arm around Isaac’s shoulders and pulled him tight against their side. After a moment, Isaac blinked tears out of his eyes and laid his head on Gray’s shoulder.

“There you go,” Gray said softly. “Just… keep breathing, Isaac. You’re safe. You’re north. You’re safe.”

Isaac’s lips trembled and he whimpered, the words feeling like a physical blow. “But my… mom, and Jordan, Rosa…”

Gray let out a slow breath between their lips. “I… I’m so sorry they hurt you like that. I’m so sorry that you… weren’t protected… the way you should have been.”

Gavin sat silent beside Isaac. Isaac’s skin felt ice-cold, drawn to Gavin’s warmth.

The idea of reaching out across the abyss of the two inches between them was more terrifying than the nightmare.

“You were dealt… frankly, you were dealt a shit deal, Isaac,” Gray said, their voice pitched low. “It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. I wish I…” Isaac watched Gray’s free hand curl into a fist where it sat in their lap. They pulled Isaac closer and gently kissed his forehead. “I wish I could have done something about it.”

“I wish I could have done a lot of things,” Isaac whispered. Gray fell silent.

They sat there together for a moment, the loudest sound in the room the sound of Isaac’s pulse pounding in his head, beating wild and fast at first, then slower, slower. He found his breathing matching Gray’s, slow and even. The tension in him slowly eased. The pain in his chest faded until it was only the ache of each breath to his bruised ribs.

He ached for Gavin to be close to him, too.

“G-Gavin?” he whispered and his stomach lurched.

A sniffle. “Yeah?”

“Um…” Isaac swallowed the lump in this throat, swallowed the terror, forced it down to where it could be crushed and dealt with. “I want you, um… closer.”

Gavin let out a breath all at once and moved closer so his side pressed against Isaac’s. He gently kissed Isaac’s shoulder, his cheek, his temple. His hand laced with Isaac’s again.

They both warmed him, Gavin and Gray, body heat and concern finding their way beneath Isaac’s skin. It slowed his heart rate further. Steadied it. He pulled in a deep breath.

“Good, Isaac,” Gray murmured, and rubbed his shoulder. Gavin moved his thumb in slow circles against Isaac’s hand.

Deeper and deeper, Isaac pulled air into his lungs, blew it out through his lips, picturing the darkness inside him flying out like bits of ash from a fire.

He was still burning, on the inside.

“Why this?” Isaac croaked, his throat sore from crying.

Gray leaned away slightly, their arm never loosening on his shoulders. It pressed against some cane marks, but Isaac didn’t care. “Why not this?” Gray said, sounding almost… surprised.

Isaac swallowed, and his mouth tasted dry as chalk. “I mean… if I’m going to, to freak out about something, why not, um… the…” Gavin’s hand seemed to grow colder in his. “Why not Fort Meyers? Or Sam getting shot? Or… fuck, why not have nightmares about, about…” He trembled and fell silent.

Having nightmares about Gavin torturing me makes more fucking sense than this.

Isaac’s hand tightened in Gavin’s, and he took Gavin’s other hand in his.

Gray slowly pulled in a breath. “Why not this?” they said evenly. “You think they aren’t related?”

Isaac huffed out a bitter laugh. “They’re not related at all, Gray,” he said, shame fluttering in his stomach.

“Hm.” Gray lay their head back against the wall. “If I may, Isaac,” they said gently, “Your history of trauma and abuse falls… rather nicely into place with the trauma of watching your family tortured in front of you.”

Gavin flinched. Isaac nosed against Gavin’s hair and kissed him on the forehead.

“The brain doesn’t decide to react to one thing immediately after it happens. It’s not… logical, the way we think of it. But… even if we can’t find a reason that makes sense to us, fact is your brain is bringing this up for a reason. It’s something that still needs to be processed.”

Bitterness rankled in Isaac. “How am I supposed to process something like that?” he snapped.

“With time,” Gray said gently. “And support from your family, who loves you.”

Isaac bit down on his tongue to hold in his retort. You wouldn’t love me if you knew what I was.

Gray laughed once, sadly. “Isaac, I’ve known you for five years. I’ve lived, run, and fought beside you for that entire time. You think I can’t tell when you think I’m bullshitting you?”

He couldn’t hide. He couldn’t fucking hide, he couldn’t hide what he was.

“No,” he said, the word grinding its way out of him.

“Good,” Gray said with a nod, and laid their head back again. They were silent for a long time.

“Fact is, Isaac,” Gray said, startling Isaac out of a sleep that had very nearly claimed him, “I can’t make the decision for you. To heal, I mean. You have to make it, or not at all. But…” He felt Gray nudge Gavin with the hand resting on Isaac’s shoulder. “You’re surrounded by people you mean the world to, and would die for you, just like you would for them. Let us see you every once in a while. Even when it hurts. Even when you think it’ll drive us away.”

“What if it’s nothing but hurt?” Isaac whispered, his throat too tight to speak.

Deep inhale, deep exhale. Gray wet their lips. “It won’t be all hurt forever,” they said, finally. “There’s so much more to you than hurt, Isaac.”

Gavin leaned in closer, resting his chin against Isaac’s shoulder. Isaac turned his head and kissed Gavin’s forehead, his hair, the scar across the bridge of his nose. Gavin relaxed against Isaac.

“We’re here, Isaac,” Gray said gently. “Always. We’re a family, and we’re here.”

“For you, Isaac,” Gavin breathed. “We’re here for you.”

Tears rolled down Isaac’s cheeks. “I…” It felt like a concession, like giving up the high ground. Walking willingly out of concealment. “I know,” he said, painfully.

“Hm.” Gray’s free hand rubbed up and down Isaac’s shin. Gavin collapsed against his side, his body relaxing more and more until he began to breathe deep and heavy, his head lolling on Isaac’s shoulder.

The third time Isaac’s head bobbed forward, Gray gently pushed themself up off the bed and stood, groaning softly as they straightened. Isaac’s eyes opened and he blearily looked around.

“Will you be alright?” Gray whispered, the dark circles under their eyes suddenly looking so much deeper. I wonder how much they’ve slept in the past few days with us being here?

“Um, y-yeah,” Isaac said thickly. He glanced at Gavin where he lay slumped against him, asleep.

“Alright. I’ll go back to bed, if you’re okay.”

“Yeah,” Isaac said, looking around, dazed. “Yeah, um. Sleep.”

“Okay. Good.” Gray leaned towards the nightstand. “Can I get the lamp?”

“Yeah,” Isaac sighed, already maneuvering so he could lay down. Gavin’s head jerked up off of Isaac’s shoulder, and he relaxed against a moment later.

“Mmn,” Gavin mumbled, and crumpled into a heap on vaguely his side of the bed.

“Good night, Isaac,” Gray croaked as they snapped the lamp off. The floor creaked under their feet as they walked out of the bedroom. The door shut behind them with a soft click.

Isaac stretched out on the bed, his eyes swollen and red, his throat raw, his face stained with dried tears. He rolled closer to Gavin. Gavin immediately pulled him tight into his embrace. Isaac was asleep within minutes.

Continued here

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[ineloqueent]

Starstruck: Part 17

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 17 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 16 / Part 18

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.  

Warnings: swearing, sentiments of sadness

Historical Inaccuracies:

SO. This is more of a disclaimer than an inaccuracy. But it’s very important...

I have written Mary’s character on basis of Lucy Boynton’s portrayal of her in Bohemian Rhapsody. I make no assumptions concerning the relationship between Freddie and Mary, and nor do I condone the things Mary has done in the wake of Freddie’s passing. 

Please remember that this is but a fictionalisation. But anyway. I’m not here to talk about that; I’m here to write fanfic. Let’s go! 

Word Count: 2.6k (can i get three cheers for the shortest chapter ever)

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You found her soon enough. She hadn’t even made it fully up the stairs.

A pitiful sight, she was, sitting with her knees pulled up as she wept quietly into the velvet of her trousers.

“Mary,” you began gently, and she lifted her head.

Her eyes were puffy, and tears had drawn angry red lines down her round cheeks. Her hair, which had previously been up, fell about her face in blonde wisps as her lower lip trembled and her eyes filled anew with tears.

You made your way over to the corner where she sat and she watched you raptly, like a frightened animal. You knelt beside her.

“Hey, what was that all about?”

Mary only shook her head, blinking rapidly in an attempt to stem her tears.

You offered her a hand up, and after a few moments of contemplation, she took it and stood.

She stared at you a moment before rivulets came running down her face again.

“Come on,” you said. “Let’s get some air.”

You led her up the final stairs and pulled open the door at the landing, guiding her outside onto the rooftop terrace.

The night air was cool, and from the heated rush of emotions that still seemed to cloud your mind to the giddiness that still occupied your stomach, the breeze on the roof was one you welcomed.

Mary seemed to relish the sudden cold as well, going as far as to lean out over the railing and close her eyes in the onslaught of the wind.

Thinking that you should probably not allow her to do any leaning given the mental state she was presently in, you came to stand by her side.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Anger flashed across her face, and she wiped her eyes with a frustrated air, only more infuriated by the fact that she was crying.

You were about to assure her that she needn’t say anything at all when she blurted,

“I found Freddie with another man.”

“Oh,” you said. You pressed your lips together, trying to gauge how it was you were to handle this.

“I just can’t believe that he’d lie to me.”

You were reminded of Deacy’s comment about Freddie being ‘nearly pathological’ with respect to lying, but that was hardly helpful right now, and you could only imagine the crushing betrayal Mary must have felt.

“I can believe that he would lie,” she elaborated, fingers curling around the railing, “but not to me. I just— oh, I suppose I thought I was different.” She gave a shudder. “I’d had the feeling that something wasn’t quite right, and I tried to talk to him, tried to tell him that he could tell me anything, and that even if I was mad about whatever it was when he told me, I wouldn’t stay that way.”

Mary turned to you, and the wind tossed her hair wildly, and with the way her eyes still ran with saltwater, she seemed a maiden from some sort of Greek tragedy.

“I love him,” she went on. “But I’ve always felt that I loved him more than he loved me. Now I understand why.”

She slumped to the ground again, her expression dark. “I’m not even angry that he didn’t come out to me. I understand that, because how the hell do you begin to tell your fiance that you want to break of the wedding because you’re gay?

“Freddie’s got this kindness, and sometimes, it’s like he’d lie to a court if it meant that he spared the feelings of those he loves. So I guess, in a way, he does love me. I only wish he’d have tried to break it off with me, instead of waiting until I walked in on him.”

She sighed, and you sat down across from her, folding your legs beneath you.

“So, what now?” you asked, because it seemed that Mary had thought a lot about this already.

But she dropped her head to her hands. “That’s the one thing I can’t work out. Where do I go from here?”

“Have you talked to Freddie, properly?”

She shook her head. “It’s going to take me a long time to forgive him. I just hope he knows why I’m angry, and that it’s not because he’s gay.”

There. That was it. That was where she had to go. “Maybe you should tell him that.”

Mary looked at you, her face wrought in scars of mascara and eyeliner. She lifted her chin and nodded. “You’re right.” She chewed her lip a moment. “But not tonight. I don’t think I can do that.”

You nodded in understanding, because with the way sobs had wracked her body, there would be no energy left for her to have a conversation with Freddie without it dissolving into a bitter argument, even with good intentions at heart.

“Y/N, would it be okay if I stayed in your room for the night?”

“So long as you promise me you’ll talk to Freddie tomorrow,” you said. “Don’t leave him wondering.”

“Yeah.”

You stood. “Let’s just go, then. It’s past midnight anyway.”

Later, when Mary was sound asleep on one of the beds, bundled in the various extra blankets you’d scavenged from cupboards, you lay with your eyes wide open. You’d been kept awake by the sounds of the dwindling party upstairs, which had carried on for long after the scene had been abandoned by its host.

You wondered where Freddie had got to.

And where Brian had.

You’d considered going to find him many times, and had even gone so far as to stick your feet out of bed and set them on the cold hardwood floor, but in the end, you’d made up your mind to do what you always did: nothing.

He’d left you standing in the dance hall, without so much as recognition in his eyes for evidence of having kissed you. And now he was going to tell you that he’d meant nothing of it, a rush of emotions in an exhilarated situation, and you couldn’t bear to hear that.

You’d rather be left wondering than have such a finality imposed upon your mind.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

It had been days, now. They’d been tiptoeing around each other for days.

It was ridiculous to the point where I began to feel the need to take matters into my own hands.

The situation was now ultimately worse than it had been before, because very obviously, something had changed. And I’d wager that something had happened on the first night of tour. They were different now, almost shyer, more fragile in their vulnerability to each other’s charms.

He had pined for her since the late sixties, she had been oblivious since day one, and I doubted that, despite their respectively vast vocabularies, either of them knew the meaning of the verb ‘to converse’. It was all longing looks and unuttered promises, a brush of a hand and staring pensively when the other was unawares.

I was almost offended that they couldn’t pull themselves together, when they were fortunate enough to have each other.

Veronica and Robert would get farther and farther from me as each day of tour escorted us more remotely from London. It hadn’t been an option to bring my wife and our tiny child with us on tour, so I could do nothing now but miss them.

But our two resident idiots, Y/N and Brian, did have each other. And they took it completely for granted.

The open road was quiet and dark, and seemed half-asleep, the trees that blurred past the window swaying to some secret song. A flock of birds streamlined the puffy clouds overhead as the moon greeted the sun in its eternal celestial shift, light yielding light to comfort the earthly beings who feared the darkness. Though I did not fear the dark as such, it was easy to imagine lurking figures between the lone houses by the roads, creeping souls amongst the woods by the road; there was something consuming about this early-morning quiet.

On a stop between Bristol and Cardiff, I left the loos to find Freddie smoking by a payphone, notably absent from the rest of our entourage.

The morning air was chilly, and I wound the scarf around my neck in its second loop, buttoning up my jacket with a shiver. No one was out here other than out of necessity, so I made my way over to Freddie and leaned against the wall beside him.

I turned to face him. “How are you?”

Freddie pursed his lips, tapping ash from his cigarette. “Not at my most fabulous, dear.”

I nodded understandingly, burying my face further into the scarf. “It’s okay, you know. You can’t always be.”

“But that’s why I became Freddie Mercury,” he said quietly, his words nearly carried away by the wind. “I became a legend so I wouldn’t feel like this.”

“Freddie,” I began, “I’m pretty sure being legendary means you have a lot more to feel than you would otherwise.”

He smiled a thin-lipped smile, tossing his spent cigarette into the ashtray mounted atop the rubbish bin. “You are of course right, darling, but right now I’d give anything to feel nothing at all.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Freddie sighed. “I don’t know what I want.”

It was despair in his voice; I recognised it. And I understood it. Because where do you start if you don’t know what you’re working toward?

I placed a hand on his shoulder and he turned his sad brown eyes on me.

“You’re a legend, Freddie,” I reminded him. “You’ve got forever to figure it out, okay?”

He nodded.

“And you can talk to me if you need to.”

“Thank you, Deacy,” he patted my hand. “I think I’ll keep a bit to myself for a while, though, at least until we reach the city.”

“Okay.”

“Now, let’s get out of this cold. I’m freezing my tits off!”

I laughed. “Okay, Freddie.”

And though the open road was quiet and dark and I missed my wife and son, I had my friends. The second half of my family.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You ached to kiss Brian again. To wind your fingers through his hair. To hold him close, because with the worry that wove itself through his brow on behalf of Freddie, he looked so lost, so far away, as though he needed someone to bring his floating self to the ground where his thoughts could wander amongst the living, and not dwell up in the sky with that which he had lost.

Perhaps that was why he looked to the stars so often; he’d lost so much, and they were a constant.

He deserved to have something brought back to him. And if you could return to him some of the light in his eyes instead of stealing it away, then nothing in the world would make you happier.

The mornings on the bus were tense, to say the least.

Without discussion, it seemed that you and Brian had established an agreement to keep Mary and Freddie apart until they had the time and privacy in which to talk. But it was a difficult arrangement, given that the tour bus was not exactly spacious. And given that it meant you had to keep your distance from Brian.

Presently, though, you came second to the efforts of protecting Freddie and Mary from themselves, which meant that Brian did as well. So for now, all you could give to him were silent glances and small smiles.

But Brian seemed to have other ideas.

On the leg from Cardiff to Taunton, just as you were getting back on the bus, someone grabbed your hand and pulled you around the corner.

You tensed, whirling around with your other fist raised, your heart hammering.

But your defenses were instantly disarmed, because there was Brian with his mass of curls in disarray from the wind, his lips parted as though he had been about to say something.

“Are you trying to kill me?!” you cried, your heartbeat still in your throat.

“No,” Brian said, “I’m trying to kiss you.”

“You’re—”

He pulled you to him, melding himself against you, and kissed you soundly on the mouth, his arms winding around you. Your response was immediate, and you leaned so far into him that he stumbled. His laughter tickled your lips, a rush of breath over your skin as he clutched you to stop you from falling with him.

But you pushed him against the wall instead, and his hands rose to your cheeks to kiss you more deeply, devouring— senseless. Precisely as you had once wished for him to kiss you.

There were so many things you wanted to say, but it seemed the most of them were covered in how you moved with him, vulnerable and uninhibited, purely driven by the desire to hold him close, to make him understand with your proximity how much it was you cared for him. How much you would never be able to explain the gravity of your affections for him.

Brian reversed your positions and only the existence of the wall and his arms kept you on your feet; you were dizzy with the surge of excitement that withered you where he touched you.

And his touch was everywhere.

His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, from your jaw to your cheek, to the shell of your ear, and then in a tender trail down your neck. His fingertips fluttered at your sides, warm on your skin, but you shivered, because no one had ever touched you with such a gentleness as this, such desire, such love.

Then abruptly, he pulled back, short of breath and flushed from head to toe, with swollen lips and loose curls sticking up where your fingers had interfered with their natural fall.

The world spun as his eyes flickered between yours.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he hummed.

“You did a bit,” you replied. “We’re on the open road. It is sort of scary out here.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I just missed you. I miss you. I feel like we’re apart, you know?”

You nodded mutely.

He asked softly, “We’re not keeping this a secret, are we?”

You couldn’t believe that he was asking, after everything. But you supposed that was how he was, considerate to the point where he doubted himself if the circumstances favoured you.

“Brian,” you said, “I don’t think I could hide the way I look at you if I wanted to.”

A smile flickered across his face.

Then the rain began to pour.

“Come on, back inside,” you said, taking him by the hand.

“Hang on,” he pulled you back. He lingered a moment, gazing at you aimlessly, and he looked at you the way he looked at the stars.

“What?”

Brian cradled your face in his hands. Then he pressed a gentle kiss to your nose, brushed the pad of his thumb over your skin. “I just wanted to look at you.”

You couldn’t help but smile.

“My evening star,” he murmured.

You shook your head, finding it very hard to believe that this man, who spoke so beautifully, was yours. “You’re a poet, Brian.”

His response would have been enough to flood the coldest land with a wealth of warmth, as absolutely as that which blossomed in your chest.

“And you’re my muse.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: two more parts and an epilogue m’dears :)

taglist: @melting-obelisks @retropetalss @hgmercury39​ @topsecretdeacon @joemazzmatazz @perriwiinkle @brianmays-hair @im-an-adult-ish @ilikebigstucks @doing-albri @killer-queen-87 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @archaicmusings @cloudyyspace @annina-96 @themarchoftherainbowqueen @annajolras​

Masterpost / Part 16 / Part 18

[dangerousconnoisseurdonut]

Curse of Loki preview (F/F/m)

On AO3, I have a request for a Tickle Fic, something I have toyed with for years, but never had the guts to do until now. I realize tickling isn’t everyone’s kink, but please be kind as this is my first attempt. I am posting a preview here to get a feel if I’m doing this right.

Now, context! Bruce has been sent a horn with Norwegian Runes all over it. What he doesn’t know is that this is the Horn of Loki, the Trickster God and causes... interesting results between the recipient and their enemies. In this case, Bruce and the Rogues of Gotham. After he has blown the horn, he gets the urge to go into the city and winds up at Selina’s flat, not realizing that she has a guest at the minute and... well, here goes nothing.

“Relax, Bruce, I just wanted to lounge around for a change; Tabitha and Barbara got me this on my last birthday. Do you like it?” Selina gave a little pose and Bruce did his best to keep his eyes on her face where they belonged and not drawn to her cleavage which he had never seemed to notice before. It was darker than magenta, somewhere between sangria and mulberry, with pink cherry blossoms scattered on it; it was indeed beautiful, but Bruce was wishing at the moment she had something on underneath as he could see her breasts, including her perky nipples.

“Bruce?” Selina asked with a shit-eating grin as though she had a damn good idea why he hadn’t answered her, causing his blush to deepen as he responded,

“Nice! It’s very, uh, very nice!”

“I think the naughty boy was eyeing your tits, Cat.” Bruce whirled around at the sound of another female, only to find Bridgit Pike waltzing into the room in another bathrobe, this one somewhere between navy and indigo, with white orchids. He was struck by how attractive she was, even with the scars on her face and what he could see of her body; her hair was long, though there was none where her face had been burned, and her smile was one of the, pardon the pun, cat who got the canary. He felt himself harden as he suddenly felt very much like a canary.

“Uh, I’m uh, sorry for interrupting you two, I’ll just, um, I’ll just -” Bruce was shocked when Bridgit grabs the lapel of his jacket and pulls him to her so she can kiss him. As he and Bridgit make-out, he feels Selina grab his jacket and pull it off of him. Bruce however gets a moment of clarity and pulls away as Selina pulls his button up partially off, ripping a few of the buttons off and trapping his arms in the sleeves.

“W-wait a minute, what are y-you -?” Bruce just about jumped out of his skin when Selina dug her fingers into his underarms, causing him to almost bite his tongue off as he fought not to laugh.

“Naughty boys need to be punished, but we don’t want to hurt you so, Selina and I think you need a good laugh; not to sound like Jerome, but you are way too serious.” Bridgit explains as she lightly runs her fingers over his ribs. Bruce doesn’t say anything, knowing the minute he opens his mouth he’ll start laughing and won’t be able to stop. He hadn’t been tickled since he was seven, and he had forgotten how much he hated it. Selina and Bridgit start leading him to Selina’s bed, digging their fingers into his ribs or underarms when he tries to struggle. Bruce is almost crying from the exertion it’s taking to not laugh. When it comes time to get him on the bed, they move quickly to get Bruce’s arms out from the shirt, and tied down using some scarves. For his legs, Bridgit sits on Bruce’s stomach and switches between his underarms and stomach, not letting him get used to either sensation as Selina wrestles him out of his shoes, pants, underwear, and socks before tying his legs down. Bridgit stopped for a moment, enjoying seeing Bruce struggle to contain his laughter, as Selina went to get something.

“P-please Bridgit, I, I’m sorry I looked at Selina’s breasts; you’re both so pretty I couldn’t help it, but I’m so sorry for being a pervert and -mmph!” Bruce was cut off as Bridgit again kissed him, and he moaned a little as she played with his nipples before Selina came back.

“Starting without me?”

“I’ve never seen a guy apologize so much for sneaking a peak at a boob before.” Bridgit explained as she petted Bruce’s locks, something he actually seemed to enjoy.

“I told you; he’s an odd one but can actually be kind of sweet, like a puppy.” Selina said as she resumed her position at his feet, making him worry about what she planned to do.

“Well, even cute puppies have to be disciplined when they do something naughty, but since he seems so sincere with his apology, I think we can give him a little reward afterwards.” Bruce went to beg again, only for Bridgit to lightly trail her fingers up to his underarms, prompting him to keep his mouth shut and bite his lips.

“Gotta warn you handsome; we won’t stop until we hear you laugh. Why not make it easy on yourself and just let it out?” Bruce shook his head, causing Bridgit to sigh before smirking as she dug her fingers into his underarms and Selina tickled his thighs, a place he didn’t even think was ticklish but Selina just had to prove him wrong. He giggled, chortled, and snorted behind closed lips, but still refused to out and out laugh, even when Bridgit switched to his stomach and Selina tickled his knees (seriously, knees could be a ticklish spot?). Though, when one of Bridgit’s fingers got close to his navel, he almost lost control, though sadly he knew Bridgit had seen it for what it was when she got a wicked gleam in her eyes before saying,

“He’s a tough nut to crack, Cat; I think we better up our game.” Selina released a very put-upon sigh as she responded,

“You asked for this Bruce.” Bridgit leaned over as Selina also stopped to get something, though just what Bruce could not see. When Bridgit pulled back, she held what appeared to be a makeup brush, making Bruce wander just what was she going to do with that. He wasn’t allowed to worry about it however as Selina grabbed the toes of his right foot and stretched them back as far as they would go, leaving his arch taut. He got the uneasy feeling he was about to face his Waterloo. Bridgit then leaned down and placed the brush on his stomach and started a slow spiral edging closer and closer to his navel. Soon, it was tracing the navel itself, and Bruce was shaking so bad with suppressed laughter, he thought he was going to pass out. Those soft, silky bristles felt like dragons teeth on his sensitive stomach. Bridget looked him straight in the eye, amber into green, and asked,

“Does our naughty pretty boy have a ticklish belly button?” Before Bruce could confirm or deny, Bridgit dug the makeup brush right into his navel to swirl it around same time as Selina lightly ran her nails up his foot. Actually, to Bruce’s horror, he realized Selina was wearing her gloves with the claws on them, and they were what she was lightly dragging up and down his foot. At the twin sensations, Bruce didn’t stand a chance and finally burst out,

“Hahahaha! P-please s-s-stop! I, I c-can’t t-t-take this!” Bruce hated how he was reduced to stuttering, but the girls were just too good. Selina kept her touch light to make sure her claws didn’t accidentally pierce the skin, but that didn’t make it any less intense as she used one claw to draw nonsensical patterns along his sole, first lines going up and down, then spirals on the ball and heel of his foot, then zig-zags across his arches. Bridgit meanwhile kept switching between the brush and her her finger digging into his navel. Sometimes, just to spice things up, she would use the brush on his navel while digging her fingers into his underarm. Her dual sensations of sharp and soft were driving him up the wall. Once, she even ran the brush over his nipple and as the silky smooth bristles ran along his slightly swollen nub, he didn’t know if he wanted to moan or bite his tongue off.

“You know, Bruce, for a guy who runs around as much as you do, you have really soft feet.” Selina casually remarked before she gave into temptation and ran her tongue up the sole in front of her, enjoying Bruce’s bucking as he almost screamed,

“S-Selina! P-pl-please s-stop! Hahahaha!” Bridgit then found a similar urge over taking her so she leaned down and ran her tongue along Bruce’s underarm, relishing in the squeal Bruce couldn’t hold back as she licked and nipped at the smooth skin there.

“Isn’t Bridgit beautiful, Bruce?” Selina asked before she nipped at his arch and soothed it with her tongue.

“V-v-very b-b-beautiful!” Bruce had started laughing so hard, he was actually crying a bit.

“Why don’t you show her how beautiful you think she is by eating her out?” As though convincing him of the idea, she tickled one sole with her claws and licked the other one, going so far as to take his pinky toe into her mouth and run her tongue all around it.

“A-anything y-you w-w-want!” Bruce was almost convinced he was having an out of body experience from the sensations. He took in a huge breath when they stopped while Bridgit moved to sit on his face, though he was surprised when she turned around so she would be facing Selina.

“If you think I’m going to stop tickling you and making you do that cute little laugh of yours, you’re as nuts as Selina says you are. Besides, this gives me better access to your cute little belly button.” Bruce whimpered before leaning forward to her center; he hadn’t had much practice with this, but he remembered a few drunken fumblings with Grace, and she directed him to what she liked and didn’t like, though this time he was hindered by only having his tongue and he was at the wrong angle to reach her clit. Still, he started by gently licking her inner lips with little nips here and there, and he heard her give a little moan.

“Looks like you haven’t been training your puppy enough Selina; he’s very shy, but seems like he’s -ah!- trying.” Bridgit stroked his hip as she spoke, and Selina smirked as she responded,

“Maybe we should encourage his tongue a bit more by way of example?” ‘Oh no, what now?’ Bruce whimpered before almost dislodging Bridgit when he bucked like a bronco at the feeling of tongues on his most ticklish spots. Selina repeated the action of putting his toes in her mouth and running her tongue and now teeth around them as she dragged her claws along the arch. Bridgit meanwhile leaned down and used her fingers to spider up and down his stomach as she stuck her tongue in his navel and swirled it around before nipping at the skin around it. As he laughed at such intense sensations, Bridgit moaned at the vibrations, causing her own tongue to vibrate in his navel, which made it tickle even more. He wondered about the heat that had started bubbling up in his stomach from all this; was he becoming aroused from being these powerful girls little tickle and sex toy?

[one-boring-person]

Poncho X reader where the reader is one of the Chopper medics who tends to Duch, Poncho and Anna (because all of them live) and she visit Poncho in the hospital just to make sure he’s ok

I'm sorry this is a bit short, but I hope you like it!😊💛

Stop Talking.

Poncho x reader

Warnings: mention of injury, some blood imagery

Masterlist

My back cracks as I stretch it out, a grunt of relief escaping me as I do so, my body aching from the last few hours, not really having expected the two helicopter trips I'd had to go on. Generally, I'm good at my job, and treating people in a moving aircraft is a skill I've long since honed, but the last couple of trips had been much worse than normal. The final one in particular had been terrible; I have no idea where the muscular man got such an impressive array of injuries, but it had meant I'd had to stay with him constantly throughout the long ride to the hospital, making sure his wounds didn't bleed too much, and that he didn't fall asleep on me. If he had, he most likely would've suffered a whole lot more than he did. 

I shake my head clear of these thoughts as I walk down the bright corridor, rubbing my eyes against the fluorescent lights, wishing they'd tone them down a bit, finding them particularly harsh in my fatigued state. A few people hurry past me, none of them acknowledging my presence, which suits me fine, my focus entirely on reaching the correct ward now rather than trying to explain to someone why someone in military fatigues is walking around (sometimes being a field medic has its downfalls). My boots tap loudly on the floor, striking out a rhythm that keeps me awake, though I can feel my exhaustion starting to creep up on me.

Turning a corner, I finally locate the correct ward, giving the guard standing outside my ID before entering, aware that the feds probably want to keep this on the low-down. I'm glad to find that, apart from the three patients in the room, I'm the only other person there, giving me some privacy for once. 

As I enter, I feel my eyes drawn briefly to the large form of Major Schaefer, the last man we'd pulled from the jungle, on the bed directly to my left, the unconscious veteran finally clean of the thick layer of mud and grime he'd previously been caked in. To his left is Anna, the Guerrilla girl that had come with them, though she is only in now so that the feds can keep an eye on her. She wasn't injured particularly badly, a bit bruised and somewhat bloodied, but I'd still recommended spending the night in the hospital, just to be sure: she'd been very shaken up when we found her and the other inhabitant of the room. 

Having looked over the other two, I now go to the prone figure of the other guy we'd rescued. Somehow, I'd never gotten his name, the man far too agonized to say much in the helicopter, but I'd instantly found myself hoping that he would be ok. Sure, I felt like that with all my patients, but this guy had been on my mind all day, and I couldn't shake it. Eventually, I had followed my instinct and gone to check up on him, despite what I normally tell myself when treating patients.

Nearing him, I stand by the side of his bed and look over him, taking in the peaceful look on his face, muscles totally relaxed in this state. His chest is left clear of his blanket, deep purple bruising appearing just past the collar of his hospital robe, leaving his skin mottled and angry-looking. Other scars and bandaged injuries litter his exposed body, but nothing is particularly serious from what I can see. Of course, it's entirely likely that he has a few broken ribs, I'd been almost certain of that when I first checked him over, but from this angle it's hard to tell, and I don't want to hurt him further by looking. 

As I watch him, his eyelids start to flicker, head twitching a little as his conscience gradually returns to him. A low noise echoes up from his parting lips, the sedative drugs administered to him clearly wearing off now, his previous pain most likely starting to seek back into him, drawing him further into reality than he'd like. Surprised, I step back a bit, staying close by in case he needs help, my heart beating faster as he wakes up properly.

He coughs harshly as he comes to, wincing as the movement wracks his currently frail body, eyes flicking here and there, trying to discern where he is. They quickly come to rest on me, the man fixing me with a stare as he turns his head towards me.

"W...where am...I?" He gasps out, voice cracked from disuse.

"You're in hospital. You've been injured quite badly, I wouldn't try talking too much. Just take it easy." I fill him in, going closer again, smiling down at him reassuringly.

He frowns momentarily, but leans his head back.

"Y...You were...in the chopper…" He manages, ignoring my advice entirely.

"Yeah, I was. Please don't talk too much more, I don't want you to hurt yourself more." I tell him, cocking my head as he gives me what is probably a smirk.

"What's...what's your name?" He asks me, eyes fixed on me, making me blush a little.

"I'm (Y/n), but please, just listen to me. Don't talk so much!"

The injured man nods, only to try sitting up again, at which point I step in and gently push him back down, trying to be as careful as possible.

"What happened to...Dutch...Is he...ok?" He questions me, holding onto my arm nervously, suddenly looking concerned.

"Dutch? You mean the major? He's a bit beaten up, but he'll pull through. Unlike you, if you keep talking." I clarify, giving him a quick grin.

He smiles back, relaxing into his cushion in relief, though he doesn't let go of my arm just yet.

"I'm Poncho, by the way." He says to me, winking at me with a grin.

Rolling my eyes, I force back a smile of my own, carefully removing his hand.

"Well, Poncho, it's good to meet you. Maybe we can continue this conversation when your health doesn't depend on whether or not you get some rest." I prompt him, gesturing to his chest.

As if on cue, he winces, clearly having moved it a little too much.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." He admits, smiling.

"Yeah, it is." I respond, knowing already that the two of us will get along very well.

[i-just-love-spop]

I’m here

Some nights were alright.

Some nights were bad.

And some nights were terrible.

Bow was there to remind Glimmer that she wasn’t alone during all of them.

Glimbow-centric. Catradora is hinted at, but is completely off-screen for this one.

Glimmer is very heavily implied to also be traumatized in “Save the Cat”, and while it’s definitely different from Catra’s trauma, I imagine it’s pretty bad as well, so instead of writing the seven other concepts that are flying around in my notes, I decided to write this one because it jumped at me randomly way too early in the morning.

I know that there are technically no “nights” in space, but they still have some sort of day-night-rhythm, and night in this case just refers to the time they are all sleeping – or should be, at least.

Takes place in between “Taking Control” and “Perils of Peekablue”. This assumes that traveling from Etheria to Prime’s flagship and back took them at least three weeks each, because of their old ship, their limited knowledge of the technology and the lack of any ability to teleport or create portals. I have no idea if that’s accurate, but then again, nobody really knows how much time passes during the show.

TW: PTSD-induced panic attacks.

Glimmer‘s body tensed up in Bow‘s arms while she slept, just like it had happened the nights before, ever since Catra had teleported her off of Prime‘s ship.

He was still awake, hugging her gently to remind her he was there, and always on the lookout for signs of another panic attack like the one he had witnessed about two weeks earlier.

He rubbed her back.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here. I will never let him hurt you again, I promise.”

-

For the first few nights after she’d been freed from Prime’s ship, she’d suffered through her terrors alone – not wanting to reach out to Bow too early, because he was allowed to stay mad at her for a while. Because she didn’t want to overstrain his good will after everything they’d went through, or to burden him or Adora with her silly nightmares considering everything else that was going on. What kind of terrible friend would she be if she’d do that?

Well, that facade had been smashed and crumbled completely about two days before they’d arrived at Prime’s ship.

She’d promised Adora she would help her rescue Catra – stars, there was a part of her that had started to like Catra when they had both been prisoners, and she had saved her, after all –, but the closer they got to Prime’s flagship, the worse her nightmares got.

This had eventually culminated in a full-blown panic attack, and after half a night of sobbing and thrashing around in her own bed, she’d gotten up, and had told Bow, still crying and entire body trembling, that she understood that he was still mad at her, and that it was okay, and if he needed more time, but-

By then he’d already gotten out of bed, put his arms around her and told her that of course she could stay.

No matter how mad he was at her... seeing her so upset and scared shattered his heart to pieces.

He’d never seen her like this before – not even after her mother died. And it terrified him.

He couldn’t take it.

Glimmer had slept in his bed every night after that.

_

Some nights were alright.

She’d flaked out and had been fast asleep until morning after long days of planning the rescue mission – planning itself hadn’t been easy for her, either. He had seen the way her body tensed whenever Horde Prime or the flagship were mentioned – he still saw it, now that they were on their way back home, whenever they talked about what had happened –, and he had eventually decided that comforting her by holding her hand, despite still being mad at her, was alright for him.

Not that staying mad at her was easy. She’d made mistakes, there was no denying that... but he knew her well enough to know that her apology was sincere, and that even if he were to never forgiven her, this would still be the first and last time she’d made a mistake like this.

Also, staying mad at anyone – especially at Glimmer –, had never been his strong suit. She was his best friend after all... and, at the same time, so much more than that. They’d been inseparable ever since they were little, and he couldn’t imagine his life without her – and even if he could have, he didn’t want to.

He hated fighting with her. He hated being mad at her.

He... he could have lost her. She could have been gone by now. The thought terrified him in a way that nothing had ever terrified him before. It made him sick to the stomach.

He hugged her tighter.

...Adora was to Catra what Glimmer was to him, wasn’t she? Just that she had needed her even more desperately, because they’d grown up in such a toxic environment. He hadn’t always been able to be honest with his dads, and Glimmer’s mother had driven her insane sometimes... but neither of their parents would have ever thought of hurting them, especially not on purpose.

That didn’t make everything Catra had done alright, of course. It was far from that.

But he was starting to understand her better – he could definitely see how everything that had happened could drive someone in her situation over the edge.

Catra actually seemed to be a decent person when she wasn’t trying to kill them, so he was willing to give her another chance as long as she kept on working on herself and didn’t hurt his friends again.

He was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts as Glimmer stirred in his arms again.

Most nights weren’t good. More were since they’d started traveling back home, away from Horde Prime... but there were still a lot of nights that Glimmer thrashed around in her sleep, that she woke up screaming and crying and unable to catch her breath.

-

Some nights were bad.

-

And some nights were terrible.

-

Glimmer woke up in cold sweat. She felt dizzy, her heart was beating out of her chest, and she felt almost nauseous. For a moment, all she could see was green eyes in the pitch black room. She screamed and backed away until her back hit the wall.

“Glimmer... Glimmer, it’s okay. It’s just me. You’re safe.”

The voice was soothing and weirdly familiar. And then, all of a sudden, the green eyes disappeared, and she jolted up, back into reality.

She was... she was on the ship. She’d been on the First One’s ship for weeks. She was... she was... scared and confused, and threw her arms around her best friend like there was no tomorrow.

She needed this. More than she would like to admit.

She was completely freaked out and was positive she’d forgotten how to breathe, and it was getting worse and worse and worse and-

“Glimmer, it’s okay.” He stroked her head. “You’re here. With me. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“Bow...” She sobbed into his chest. “I-I’m so cold...”

Seeing his best friend this hurt and afraid and broken caused physical pain. She’d been through so much lately. She didn’t deserve this.

For a while, they just sat there and he hugged her shivering body tight because that seemed to be the only thing that calmed her down, if only slightly.

"It will be okay. I promise. You can get through this. I know you can.”

“B-but-“

Her entire body was shaking.

She was so stuck in her terror that it made her completely unable to form words properly, even less sentences.

“No. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

He let go of her and offered her his hands to hold. She took them with shaking hands.

“I-“

The words still didn’t come.

"Concentrate on your breathing. Stay in the present. Count to ten with me, alright? Like we practiced."

She nodded slowly, closing her eyes and squeezing his hands as they counted, her breaths slowly growing steadier. She was still panicking, still scared, but his voice was calm and soft and his hands in hers felt nice and warm and kept her in reality.

He was so patient with her. He was always so patient with her. She was pretty certain Bow was the most amazing person in the entire universe.

How she deserved someone like him in her life, especially after how badly she had messed up, was beyond her.

“I- I’m s-sorry I-I‘m so m-messed u-up,“ she sobbed.

She was still shaking, but she wasn’t quite as trapped in her head anymore.

He just held her and rubbed her back.

“You did good, okay? I’m so proud of you.” She buried her head in his chest. He went back to stroking her head gently. “And you’re not messed up. You’ve just been through a lot lately. I don’t think any of us will get out of this battle without scars. But that doesn’t make us broken.” He smiled at her. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. You’ve gotten through so much already. We’ll work through this, too.”

“W-we?”

She looked up at him, her arms still wrapped around him tightly.

Touching him calmed her down. It always had.

Bow nodded.

“Of course. You’re my best friend, Glimmer. And you don’t have to do this alone, okay? I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Her breathing was steadier now, her hands not shivering as much when she lifted them to her face to wipe her tears away.

“Bow, I-“ She cut herself off mid-sentence. “Thank you. For being so patient with me, and calming me down and- still wanting to be my best friend, even after everything that happened. You’re amazing. You’re the best friend anyone could ever wish for.”

“Anytime.” He squeezed her hand. “Do you need anything else?” She shook her head. “Do... do you want to go back to sleep?”

“I... yeah. That... that might be good. Can... can I be the big spoon?“

Bow smiled.

“Always.” He hugged her one more time. “So... do I want to sleep with the lights on today?”

She smiled softly. He asked her this every time she woke up from a nightmare, ever since the first night she had slept on his bed here.

She’d freaked out when he’d turned the lights back off that night, and then told him through sobs that saying she wanted to leave them would make her feel like a little girl and that she hated that.

He’d retorted “Well, maybe I want to leave the lights on.”

And now he always asked if he wanted to leave them on because that made her feel less weird about it.

Stars, how was he this perfect...

“No... I... I think I’m okay now. Better at least. But... thank you.”

They laid back down and Bow pulled the blanked back over them as she took him into her arms.

Glimmer liked being the big spoon sometimes. She liked holding him, and she loved the way it made her feel strong and big when she was feeling so small and vulnerable.

Being the little spoon made her feel loved and protected, and she liked that just as much... but some nights it was easier if she had something to hold onto.

“And Bow?” She said after a while.

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor and actually sleep this time, okay? You can’t exactly reprimand Adora for not sleeping enough if you stay up all night watching over me.”

Adora didn’t even need to be reprimanded as much anymore. Both of them were certain that they’d never seen her as happy and relaxed as she was since she had Catra back, and especially since Catra had made up with Entrapta.

Sure, she was still her usual ‘I need to save the galaxy all on my own’-level of stressed, but something had changed since Catra was on the ship.

This fact was extremely hard to miss – after all, even Entrapta had picked up on it, and she wasn’t exactly an expert on picking up social cues.

How had she put it again?

‘Adora’s smile rate goes up by at least twenty percent whenever Catra is in the room’, or something.

“I... can’t sleep when I’m not sure you’ll sleep through the night,” Bow admitted, interrupting her thoughts. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“That’s...” Her voice cracked. “That’s so sweet of you. I appreciate it, I really do... but you need to sleep.”

“Promise me you’ll wake me up if you need help again?”

She nodded.

“I promise.”

Bow was the first one to doze off this time. Glimmer didn’t mind. She was comfortable and warm and felt save now. He’d gotten really good at battling her fears with her these past few weeks.

She loved him for that, and for so many other things. She was so incredibly thankful to have him in her life.

His body felt so nice against hers. His hair smelled pretty good, too. And then she caught herself thinking about kissing him again, like she had so many times during these past few years.

I think I love you. I think I love you, love you.

She could at least admit that to herself now, and although the thought still terrified her – the same way it always had when it had crossed her mind over the years to abruptly be banished into the darkest depths of denial again –, it also made her smile, if only a little.

For the rest of the night, the two of them slept peacefully.

___

A/N: So, uuuhm... did anyone ask for angst? No?

...Well, have some anyway.

The idea just kind of popped into my head, and, well, we need more Glimbow content anyway.

This also adds some more meaning to Bow reaching for Glimmer’s hand while they are asleep in “Failsafe“, and it’s an additional reason why they could be cuddling in “Don’t go”. Just saying.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed it!

Feedback is always appreciated, comments especially. I’m also happy about reblogs!

I will upload this on my Ao3 tomorrow.

...and I’m already writing a spin-off ficlet about Catradora and Glimbow goofing around the next morning because I have no self-control. Whoops.

Thank you for reading!