#i get to take it slow and appreciate things i normally wouldn't

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 2 - Mysterious Tower

[lymtw]

Toji can't ignore the sounds of your moans and whimpers through the wall. He's sitting on the couch, in the living room, unable to do anything about it, because you're still mad at him, and he's frustrated as hell, because he's so painfully hard, that he can see his dick twitching against the front of his sweats. He refuses to take care of it himself when he knows you're only a room away. To his convenience, you're already in the mood—clearly—but to his inconvenience, you're punishing him. You're scattering his name into your moans to throw salt in the wound, to really make it unbearable, and truthfully, it's getting to him.

Toji reached his limit when he heard you let out a sharp gasp, followed by the sound of those cries you let out when you cum hard. He strides over to your shared bedroom, opening the door to reveal your naked lower body, and your tank top scrunched up over your chest. His breath hitches, the throbbing in his pants intensifying as he rakes his eyes over your frame and absorbs the entire sight of you.

"You're really gonna get yourself off to the thought of me, when i'm right outside?" His incredulous tone doesn't do a good job of hiding the desperation that led him to barge into the room where you're splayed out so indecently.

"Mhm..." you hum, blissfully. You release a heavy, satisfied sigh. "That's exactly what I just did, 'cause you're on a time out," you say, tugging your shirt back down and pulling up your underwear, before sitting up to search for your shorts. "Don't worry. I finished. I'm done torturing you."

He can't let it be over. This normally wouldn't be enough to satisfy you. From what he heard, it seems like you only came once.

"Baby, no," he almost whines. He's outwardly desperate for you, having gone way too long without being allowed to touch you intimately. "Let me. Please," he says, climbing onto the bed. His hands make contact with the skin of your bare legs and glide over the length of your shins, continuing their way up to part your thighs to make room for him to wedge himself between them.

"I did what you asked of me. Said I was sorry and repeated after you to call myself dumb." It was such a silly moment that made the storm in your mind subside for a minute or two.

Toji resists the urge to smile when he sees you suppressing the curl of your own lips. His hands go to your waist, not stopping there. The warmth of his palms travels up your edges, meeting the sides of your breasts and briefly palming the tops of them, in order to get to your shoulders. He grips your shoulders, using them as leverage to guide you back down to the bed. Focus is embedded into his features as he takes the thin material of your shirt between his rough fingertips and peels it off your skin until he reveals the gorgeous view of one of his favorite parts of your body.

Like a domestic cat, he lays his body on you, and plants his face between your breasts. It doesn't take long for him to begin appreciating your chest, pressing multiple slow kisses to your skin. He's basking in the softness you withheld from him.

"What else do you want from me, doll?"

You let out a small, quiet sigh, through your nose. You feel a little irritated with yourself for not even putting up a fight against his affection. You always say you're not going to let him touch you for a certain amount of time, as punishment for the dumb things he does, and yet somehow it always ends up this way—him nuzzling into your chest.

"I want you to stop being a jealous maniac," you say, the words coming out softer than you intended them to, as you welcome defeat and run your fingers through his soft, dark locks.

"Mm-mm, anything but that," he responds, muffled by your warm skin. His hands caress your body, rubbing your waist and massaging your hips in a manner that would induce relaxation under different circumstances. You can't let yourself fall into that comfort until you've talked things out.

"Toji, you flashed your gun at someone who mistook me for somebody else." You attempt to keep yourself composed in order to communicate the issue efficiently. There's no need to raise your voice when you have him right there, lying comfortably on your chest.

"Mhm, I did that," Toji confirms, before planting a soft kiss on the inner side of your right breast. "The dickwad must have been real blind if he had to get so close." He feels your chest rise with a deep inhale, then hears you let out the breath. With that, he knows you're still upset and he has to further elaborate on his actions. "He had his filthy paws on you and everything. I did what I thought was best to get him to fuck off."

You hum in mere acknowledgment. "Uh-huh, that's definitely the way to go about it. God forbid you verbalize your discomfort before threatening to use a bullet."

You feel a warm puff of air on your chest, similar to the sigh you let out, but less audible, and then a kiss directly between your breasts.

"I was right next to you, ma. He was looking at you in a way that he shouldn't have been. He looked at you the same way that I look at you. You don't need that from anyone else. And that stupid ass thing he said about supposedly feeling like he's seen you somewhere? He clearly said it to get a good look at you from up close."

"You really are insane, aren't you?" You ask, rhetorically, stilling the hand that's on the back of his head.

"Doll, I hate the idea of pulling the gun out in front of you. I don't ever wanna have to use it and scare you in the process, but he was actively trying to steal you from me. If he were just ogling you from afar, I might've acted differently, but he touched you. He fucking touched you. Who does shit like that?"

Toji can feel his blood boiling again, so he refocuses on your chest. He doesn't want to think about what happened anymore, when he's in his happy place, where he knows he belongs.

"Alright, Toji. Take a deep breath." You softened your voice to simmer down his emotions. You resumed the movement of your fingers carding through his hair, aiding him in calming down more.

He does as you say and releases a heavy breath. It's riddled with his discontented feelings. "You're supposed to be mine," he mumbles, before finally latching his lips around your nipple.

Toji needs reassurance, too. Him being an attractive, enormous, hulking man, has nothing to do with how secure he feels around you, his lover. It's easy to think that because he manages to turn heads wherever he goes, that he'll be fine when you get those same reactions, but the way you have him now, is proof that insecurity can reach even him. He needs to know that he's not going to lose you so easily, especially to someone as ridiculous as the man who managed to unsettle him.

You look down at him as he takes all the comfort he needs from your chest. "I'm all yours, Toji. You're the only one who will ever get a pass for that kind of psychotic behavior."

He hums, releasing your breast, before resting the side of his face down on your chest. "You make it sound like i'm toxic towards you."

Your chest jumps as you laugh, a gesture that makes Toji lift his gaze to look at you. Your expression managed to make him lighten up a little more.

"You're crazy, but I love you, regardless."

He groans, the sound cushioned by your soft skin. You're the one thing that holds up his sanity, yet somehow you're also the one who tests it by saying things like that to him.

"Let me have you," he says, his kisses beginning to trail up, towards your neck. "Please, let me have you, mama."

"Are you gonna keep threatening people when you get jealous?" You ask, your lips curling as be continues to kiss your delicate skin.

"Mhm," he confirms. "Like I said and you said," he speaks, into your neck, "you're mine. If people don't know it, i'll make sure they get it on the first go. There's no need to make mistakes."

You laugh. "Your possessiveness is intense."

"You're not a joke, to me," he says, looking at you. His expression is as serious as what he just said.

You grab the rolled up fabric of your shirt, with the intention of covering yourself. The ambience has gone more serious and it feels wrong to be so exposed in the moment.

"Don't cover yourself, yet. I want you, baby. Please." His knuckles graze your cheek, affectionately. Despite your chest being out on full display, his attention is centered on your face. He's reading your expression. You were laughing a few seconds ago and now you're as still as him.

"Be nice to me. I don't want you to be rough, this time." It's back to back gentleness with the way your voice reaches him and your smile manages to soothe the remaining sting he's feeling. It's like you're showing him the way you want him to handle you. "I'm yours, Toji. No amount of speed or aggression from your body against mine, will have an impact on the fact. Okay?"

He keeps his eyes on you for a couple more seconds, like he's letting your words sink in and fully envelop him. He repositions his hand, so that he's cupping your cheek, and a couple slow strokes of his thumb against your skin gave him the courage to lean down and kiss you. The second his lips meet yours, he wants more. Infinitely more. He's chasing kiss after kiss from you, utterly drunk on the feeling of your hands pulling him closer by his shirt. He'll consume you, at this point.

"Hm?" You hum, still awaiting his response.

"Got it, baby," he says, before connecting his lips to yours once more. He peppers the rest of your face with kisses, luring giggles from you at the barrage of affection.

This isn't the first time Toji has been revoked of his 'you privileges', and gotten them back, instantly. This has occurred many times in the years that you've been together. Going into a relationship with him, you never thought he'd be the jealous type, much less the type who would threaten someone's life over getting overly cozy with you. The first time he pulled something similar to this, it was a little frightening. You knew he kept a gun on him sometimes, but you figured it was strictly for life or death situations.

You were wrong.

Some weirdo was getting too comfortable with you, hand wrapped around your wrist and all. You clearly remember Toji being visibly bothered, because someone thought they could just swoop in and steal your focus from him. He watched for a minute or two as the man took in your beauty and complimented you on every aspect of your appearance. He really did his best to get you to follow him to his table, and though Toji thought the whole thing was a pathetic attempt, he couldn't help the feelings that began to bubble up as the man squeezed your arm. Toji did a dog whistle to grab the man's attention, and when he looked, he lifted his shirt, just enough to show the grip of his gun. Your stomach twisted and you felt like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The stranger just stood there for a second, looking at Toji, condescendingly, as if to insinuate that he knew he was bluffing, and when Toji reached for and grabbed ahold of the gun's handle, that same cocky man paled. He didn't even have to pull out the whole gun—the man had walked away by the time he had the grip in his hand— but you remained worried that he would notify someone about what happened, so you and Toji left.

To this day, Toji still scares people that way when he notices them invading your space in a manner that doesn't sit right with him. You're not scared anymore, when he does it, but the frustration of having to ditch wherever you are, in fear of being ratted out by whoever Toji threatened? It's still there, and you feel it every time. You know he does it out of love for you, but sometimes you wish he would take a second to talk to you, before he even thinks of hurting someone.

Toji has kissed your entire torso, by now. Your chest wasn't exempt from his attention, despite the amount of time he already spent on it. If anything, he refined the love he gave it with purposeful movement and significance towards every spot his lips brushed.

He nears your lower abdomen, wet kisses placed beneath your navel, going lower and lower until you can feel his breath being filtered through the front of your underwear. His hands go beneath the elastic band, cupping your hips without restriction as he kisses your clothed pelvis.

Your breathing picks up the slightest bit when his lips meet your slit through the thin layer. His tongue comes out and he does an experimental swipe of it against the fabric. You feel the space immediately heat up, from your arousal and from the warm wetness of his tongue, itself.

"Stay still for me, mama," he murmurs, kissing your inner thighs after spotting the quiver in them. "You nervous?" He asks, with a small curl of his lips.

"Of course, I am." You look into his eyes as you confirm it. You love him so dearly, that even after the years you've spent together, you still feel lightning coursing through you when he has you this way. This electric feeling doesn't prevent you from letting yourself enjoy what he gives you, nor does it hinder you from touching him and making him feel good. You don't become more hesitant towards him, because by now, you're well aware that your love for him coexists with butterflies. They reside in you, and are able to be lured out by him at any instant, despite your knowledge of the fact that he would gladly be someone's cause of death if they don't keep themselves in check around you.

"Love you," he says, kneading your hips as he leans in to press a few more warm kisses to your thinly veiled cunt. His eyes dart up to your face when you don't respond—he's a little lost on why you didn't say it back— until he sees how despite the way you just admitted to your nerves, he has you entirely at ease. You have a hand flat on the sheets, occasionally moving against the material beneath it, while your other hand rests on your stomach. Your chest is steady and your attention is on the ceiling, your expression serene—ethereally so.

His hands run down your hips, warm palms squeeze and feel up your thighs, gaining your eyes on him again. "You're not gonna say it back?" He asks, his voice deep enough to make the ache between your legs just that much more intense.

"You already know I do," you say, contrasting his demeanor with a giggle. He looks like a needy puppy with that glint that presents itself in his eyes.

"Mhm, doesn't mean I don't wanna hear it, again, or do you not love me, right now?"

You're caught by surprise with that one, a small, almost inaudible gasp, leaving you at the words. "I love you all the time, Toji. I love you now and I loved you earlier when I was pissed. It's not going away."

He's a little more impatient for you, now. His movement doesn't speed up, but his heartbeat is in his ears, and there's a tremble in his hands as he reaches for the elastic of your underwear. He pulls the garment down, wanting to smell and taste you more clearly. His cock jumps at the sight revealed. You're still so wet. He lets out a shuddered breath, now that your lower half is completely bared for him. His mouth comes closer and closer and his tongue comes out, making contact with your throbbing cunt for the first time.

"Toji." The sound is soft—unexaggerated—as his tongue laps at your warmth, tasting the sweet wetness that coats it. He could stay like this for hours, worshipping your entire body, while you touch him and gift him the prettiest sounds ever. He can't get enough of you, which is why when it looks like you're going to close your legs, he pins them down, entirely. His hands splay over your thighs and he keeps them there, because he isn't going to fight to give you the pleasure you deserve. He'll love on you until your body is begging him to stop, because he knows that your mouth can be misleading, at times.

He's taking it slow, just like you wanted him to. The most stimulation comes from him lightly sucking on your clit for brief moments at a time, just to hear your moans get the slightest bit louder. Every time he releases your sensitive pearl, he goes back to running his tongue through your drooling slit, the tip of the muscle nudging your clit, causing it to throb with need. Each graze of the wet warmth, makes you wonder if you should ask him to go faster, though you were the one who asked for this gentleness. You don't want to seem indecisive or come off as doubtful that he can make you cum this way. You know he can, but god, you want so much more. You feel like you're the one who's going insane with every flick of his tongue.

"That good, mama? Or do you want it slower?" He gives you a teasing smirk. Toji knows how you are. You say you want him to be soft and gentle with you, but when the time comes, you want more than what's given to you. You delve into greediness as seconds turn to minutes. You both have nowhere to be. Time is yours, and Toji intends to take advantage of that. He's going to fulfill your needs the way you want him to, but that doesn't mean he loses awareness of your little ticks. He feels the small twitches of your legs beneath his hands every time you feel his nose bump into your clit just before it gets hit by his tongue. He sees the way your hips sink into the mattress and your body quivers when they rise, again.

"G-Good. Don't go any slower," you respond, holding your voice as steady as possible.

"Mm... Faster?" He asks, his tone so calm yet sultry, that you can't tell if he's patronizing you. He doesn't miss the way light flashes, briefly, through your features. In an instant, you regain your composure. A simple hum is offered in response—a wordless brush off of his suggestion. The sound makes Toji smirk. How stubborn of you.

"I won't hold it against you," he says, pressing a kiss to the crease that joins your pelvis and your thigh, leaving an echoing feeling of need in your core. "Just say the word, ma." He presses more kisses to your skin, as if he's trying to persuade you to let him devour you.

"Mm-mm, this is good."

It's not what he's trying to get out of you, but he can keep going until you're hanging on by a measly thread.

He continues on with that same pace—licking, suckling, prodding—so gently, luring the cutest little mewls from you. It took a little longer, but eventually, your body started trembling with impending release.

"I'm gonna- Toji," you cry, tightening your fists around the sheets as he slowly circles his tongue over your clit, focusing on it entirely. Your moans grow needier and needier as you near the edge through such delicateness. The anticipation is killing him. He wants you to be louder. You wouldn't hate him for bringing you more pleasure, would you? It's a risk he's willing to take.

Without another doubt, he's messily making out with your cunt, causing more of your sweet nectar to drool out at a more rapid pace. Your breath hitches, a sharper rendition of his name cried out. Your hand reaches downward and grabs a fistful of his hair, tugging on it as he continues to ravage you. Your moans sound absolutely filthy. He doesn't detach his mouth from you for a single second. His hands finally release their pin on your thighs, allowing you to fully suffocate him when they shut around his head. His arms hook around your thighs, a harsh grip on them to keep you from scooting away from his relentless mouth when you cum. It's another strong, orgasm, that has you arching your back off the mattress and squirming as he continues devouring you through the intense sensation. Your hips roll in an attempt to get more of his mouth on you. Only when you start whimpering and attempting to twist out of his hold, does he ease up. He goes back to the original pace, soft kitten licks through your slit to lap up every drop of your sweetness, earning small twitches from your body, due to the sensitivity you feel.

You release the hold you have on his hair and relax your legs, unbending them and letting them fall comfortably on the bed. He finishes you off with a few kisses, thin strings of his saliva and your cum sticking to his lips, before snapping every time he loses contact with your cunt. His warm palms caress your thighs—a comforting gesture, as your sounds come to a halt and all that is heard is your breathing.

"You're so impatient," you playfully chide, a breathy laugh following.

"You wanted more," he responds, one more kiss placed on you before he licks his lips clean. "I'm really good at reading you."

"Yeah? You think so?" You ask, a teasing grin on your face.

"I know so," he responds. "Wouldn't it just be the worst if we've been together this long, and I didn't know almost everything about you, by now?" He repositions himself, now sitting on his knees to start ridding himself of his own clothes.

You manage a hum and a nod as you watch Toji pull off his shirt.

"Good thing that's not the case, and I do know basically everything about you. Down to the way your body reacts to me— the signals you create that let me know you're gonna cum all over my tongue, when your pretty mouth can't form words."

"So vulgar," you say, through flustered giggles.

"You can take it, mama," he teases, a smirk growing on his lips as you watch him pull off his sweats. His eyes stay on yours, as he kicks them off, letting them slide off the bed and onto the floor, before crawling back between your legs. You can feel his clothed hard-on pressing against your core as he takes your lips in his again. He's addicted to the feeling of your warm body against his.

His hands come down to cup your waist, his fingers molding into the soft flesh with every squeeze they offer. He pauses the make out, small breaths leaving him.

"Baby," he says, his voice almost a whisper, his lustfully darkened eyes narrowed on your starry ones. "I'm gonna kill the next person who hits on you in front of me." He goes back in for a few more quick kisses. "I'm not joking. I can't keep sparing them."

"Shh... All yours, Toji," you murmur, softly, pulling him back in to continue the flow of kisses. Your hand goes to the nape of his neck, the other settles on his shoulder. You hear him groaning quietly into the kisses as he continues grinding his hips into yours.

"Fuck, doll," he groans, pausing his lips on yours once again. "I need you."

You laugh, a warm sound that just adds on to his desire to have you. "So, take me, baby. I'm ready for you."

He gives you one more peck, the slyest smirk playing on his lips as he watches you lean forward for another one, only to be met with nothing.

"Ass," you grumble, playfully shoving his chest.

He chuckles, a deep rumble of a sound as he sits back to remove his boxers. He's not even ashamed of the mess of precum that accumulated in them. If anything, he's surprised he was able to hold in his load this entire time. Pleasantly surprised, because every drop will go to you, as always.

One minute you're sitting up to fully remove your shirt, pulling it up over your head, the next, in what seems like a flash, you're pushed back onto the bed, hands pinned above your head.

You giggle, looking up at him with a lingering smile. "Gentle."

"Mhm," he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck. "So gentle." Two misleading words that don't prepare you for the sensation of his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck.

Your bubbly laughter homes into his ears when his tongue runs over the indentations, luring a huff of a laugh from him.

You feel his cock run through your slick folds, his hips moving back and forth, slowly. Quiet breaths fill the silence that takes over the intimate moment. Toji runs his length through your slit one more time, before finally pushing his tip in. You gasp, feeling his cock begin to drive into you.

"F-Fuck, baby, let me touch you."

"In a minute." He sounds so calm and collected, but you can feel the grip he has on your wrists tighten and the bluntness of his nails pressing into your skin.

"No. Please."

"In a minute," he repeats.

"Pretty please?"

"You're so conflicting, mama. Love that you're begging, but at the same time, you're not listening." His hips draw back and thrust right back into you, his cock filling you up entirely, again.

"Oh fuck. Okay. Please, Toji," you whine.

Toji hums dismissively and picks up a rhythm that manages to get you to stop thinking about your pinned wrists. He lures soft, little moans out of you, listening closely as he plants warm, wet kisses on the side of your face, from your temple to your jaw.

"Just let me be good to you, baby. Alright?"

You hum, nodding your head.

"Yes?"

"Please, yes."

His thrusts become even more precise as he focuses on bringing pleasure to both of you, deep groans and grunts blending together with your higher pitched moans. A few minutes pass and you feel the pressure on your arms ease up, your hands free to roam without restriction. The first thing you do is cup his jaw and bring him in for breathy kisses. You keep your hands on his face and he lets you turn his head in every which way to cover him with kisses. Your affection is intoxicating, and he can't get enough of it. He lets out a breathy laugh when you practically have a make out session with the scar on his lips, your melodic sounds of pleasure released against the strike as he continues to fuck into you. The last kiss you leave on the cicatrix is a big one. One that makes the obnoxious kissy sound and everything. He swipes his tongue over his scar, as if he's trying to catch remnants of the sugar you coated it with.

"Love you," you say, eyes darting over his handsome features and the lovestruck expression they create. You feel the way his hips stutter against you, his abs tensing with restraint before he recomposes himself. You glide your hands up and down his arms and repeat yourself for him. "Love you so much, Toji. I'm yours."

"Fuck— I fucking love you. You're all mine. My baby." He mutters more inaudible curses under his breath, his grip on your waist getting harsher and his thrusts growing quicker, with every sweet confirmation you offer. You whimper, nails digging into his biceps as you withstand the feeling of his cock relentlessly brushing that spot within you that makes you melt beneath him.

"Oh fuck, i'm close." He groans, feeling the way your walls spasm around him at the words. "Yeahhh, you want it, huh, baby? Want my cum?"

A shaky breath leaves you, your face observed up close and personal by Toji, through lust-brimmed, enamored, obsessed eyes. You squirm under all of him— his zoned in attention on you, his touch, his hot, tacky skin, his cock buried inside you—dragging in and out of your soft walls, in a manner that has your toes curling to the brink of actual pain. His fingers find your clit and rub it in rapid circular motions, causing your body to jolt at the sudden intensity of the enhanced pleasure.

You look up at him with your sparkling eyes. "Please... P-Please, Toji? I want it. Want you," you utter, as he brings you closer to your own orgasm.

"Fuck, okay. Okay, baby, gonna give it all to you." His hips pick up their pace a little more and he buries his face into your neck. You can hear the string of grunts and shuddered breaths that pair with his unraveling, right beneath your ear. Deep moans and pants flow past his lips, and his nails begin to leave crescent shapes on your sides. You feel his hot breath on your neck, the open mouthed puffs of air accompanied by the lewd sounds of him filling you with his warm, creamy cum. As he continues rutting into you, riding out every second of his orgasm and then some to get every last drop of his cum into you, he bites your delicate skin, the placement only a few centimeters above where he bit you the first time. He stays there for a few seconds, breathing heavily through his mouth and nose, before he loosens his bite, the gesture transitioning to sloppy kisses over the wet, saliva-coated indentations.

"Cum, doll," Toji mutters, feeling the way your cunt flutters around him when his fingers relocate your throbbing bundle of nerves. Your head sinks back into the pillow, allowing him to drag his kisses up the column of your neck, to feel the vibration of your sounds beneath his lips. Your nails go to his shoulders, dragging across the toned area of muscles, surely leaving behind some scratches. You cry out in utter bliss, your force of an orgasm echoing through your entire being. "There you go, mama," Toji purrs, in response to your body releasing the tension that came with the intensity of your pleasure. You tremble, your small, rapid whimpers and breaths evolving into full blown, unholy moans. "So, so pretty," he drawls out, engraving yet another one of your euphoric expressions into his memory. His fingers leave your clit, and his hips slow down to the point of merely grinding into you, to lure those final little whines out, before stilling entirely.

You shut your eyes to focus on calming your heaving chest for a few seconds, and when you open them again, you have the prettiest pair of green eyes staring down at you. You give Toji a lazy smile and a laugh, a sight that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. His heart races as he absorbs the visuals of your post-orgasm haze. Your luminous eyes devour him, that little satisfied smirk on your face is everything— god, he loves that you laugh even more at the way he can't stop staring at you.

Just like that, Toji is reminded of what got this sight revoked from him in the first place. He still doesn't feel like he's in the wrong for wanting to murder anyone who has far from just friendly intentions with you, but as you caress his face and hold his gaze with that tender look in your eyes, his desire to kill those who openly lust after you, becomes entirely justified in his mind. He's lost all reason to hold back. There's no longer any part of him that would feel remorse or guilt, even if you can't look him in the eyes for days after the matter. He'll grovel as much as he has to, to get you to give him your eyes, again. You'll just have to agree to disagree on this, because yes, you come home to him, you sleep in the same bed as him, you kiss and hold him, the body concealed by your clothes is a secret between you and him, you get tangled up in sheets with him and the lot of it— but he can't risk losing you to someone who's possibly better than him and searching for all the exact things you have to offer. You're for him, as he is for you.

Toji doesn't care how clingy he appears when you finish getting cleaned up and ready for bed. You carelessly toss yourself onto the mattress and pull the blanket over your body while you wait for Toji, who took the steps and walked around the bed to make it to his side. He finds your body beneath the covers and immediately rolls on top of you, adhering himself to you, again. His head rests on your chest, his arms wrapped tight around your body.

You're already prepared to give him the intimate aftercare that comes with days like this. You don't mind that he's heavy and that he's crushing you or that he's taking up all your space, again, after having been so close to you a little while ago. You'll do this as many times as you need to for him to understand that he's wanted and loved by you.

You press a kiss to the top of his head, and murmur a quiet 'love you'. Your fingers run through his damp hair, your nails gently scratching the back of his head, while your other hand rubs his back. You feel the extra warm skin of his shoulders, where you paid no mind to the pressure your nails applied on it, earlier.

"Does that hurt?" You ask, lightly tracing a couple of the mildly inflamed lines. He hums in denial, but you let up, anyway, and continue to just rub his back.

He groans quietly at your soothing touch, nuzzling further into you. "I'm yours, too, ma. All yours," he mumbles. "I don't want anyone else and I don't wanna see you with anyone else."

You smile softly at his admission. "You're more than enough for me, Toji. There's no one I want more than you— no, there's no one I want other than you," you correct. "You know how much I love you?"

"Mm... How much?" He asks, waiting for you to give him a number or even just an elongated 'so much', but instead, you surprise him with:

"I wouldn't be able to tell you."

He chuckles. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. If you want something accurate, I'll never shut up."

"Good thing I like when you talk my ear off. You wanna give me an inaccurate idea of how much?"

You hum like you're in thought, a giggle following when he pinches your waist, encouraging you to tell him. "I love you a lot, Toji. So much more than I will ever be able to say or show. We would have to conjoin our minds for you to understand exactly how much I love you, but even then, once our minds separate, your estimate will be entirely off again."

He lifts his head off your chest, and waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. The moonlight seeping through the spaces between the curtains is the only source of light that allows him to get a mediocre view of you. "That's inaccurate?" He asks, looking at you with clear disbelief when his eyes finally adjust. You nod, smiling through the warmth that spread on your cheeks. "Now, I wanna know how much you love me, with complete accuracy. I have all the time in the world to listen to you, baby. Just keep talking to me." He presses a kiss to your cheek before lying back down on your chest and wrapping his arms around you, again.

You hugged him as tight as you could for a few seconds. The sound of you straining yourself made him laugh, because not only did he not let out a single groan, but you tired yourself out even more. You rested your arms on his back and just shut your eyes. It was the warmth and weight of his body on you, the feeling of his arms keeping you firmly against him, the security, that managed to lull you to sleep. Toji dozing off was simpler than that, because all he needs to be able to sleep soundly, is for you to be around.

[quantum1mmortality]

Captain Curly; marriage hcs <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chat I know I mentioned getting back into writing for twst but the current hyperfixation is too strong rn so just bare with me I NEED to write for mouthwashing

!this is written with an AU in mind; curly still works for pony express, but there's no ship. Just a normal job. Also J***y doesn't exist.!

Tw/cw; afab!reader, mentions of pregnancy and having said baby, MANHANDLING!!!!, teasing, use of pet names, uhhh I can't think of any else

Not proofread

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sfw

I think Curly would definitely be a family oriented person. The further you'd get into your relationship, the more he'd ask about your opinion on kids and if you'd want any in the future.

I also think Curly would be on the traditional side, too. If you said yes to having kids, he'd take that as an opportunity to show you how good of a provider he can be, and how willing he is to become a father.

When you do eventually have children, he'd be more than willing to take off work to help around the house. You just gave birth, he knows it's hard for you, so he'd make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for all three of you.

Sidenote; Curly would definitely be a good cook. He probably took culinary in highschool

If he knew Anya at the time, he'd have her babysit your children so he could take you out on dates. This happens quite often, too; probably around once or twice a month. He just wants to show how much he appreciates you and everything you've done for him and your relationship <3

He'd take you to the most expensive restaurants and tell you to order whatever you wanted, and if you're done breastfeeding, he'd order a bottle of champagne for you both.

He'd be one of those "I love my wife" husbands. Everyone at his job is so sick of hearing him talk so highly of you. It'll be someone's birthday, they'll bring a cake, and he just won't eat it. Why? "My wife could make a better cake."

After you guys got married, he couldn't stop calling you his wife. That name felt so surreal to him; like the woman of his dreams is finally his? And there's a title for that?? Of course he's going to use it constantly.

He probably also took Anya out to help him pick out a ring. And thank god he did btw because he would've gotten you a ring with the biggest diamond they had 😭😭 (sorry to all the big ring lovers in chat rn they're just not it for me)

Nsfw

Curly is a romantic. He'd want to take things slow, cherish you as much as possible, especially if it's your first time.

He wouldn't think of it as sex, he'd think of it as lovemaking; showing you his worth and how much he cares about you.

He rarely gets rough, you have to ask him to be because he just won't do it. But, he's a suck up for you, so if you want something, it's yours.

So, he'd get rough. He'd go faster than he usually does, maybe put his hand around your neck and squeeze ever so gently. But afterwards, he'd feel awful; like he was hurting you or something.

He'd apologize profusely, say he's never gonna do it again, but does it a few days later. It's like going through the five stages of grief but skipping the first four and consistently being at acceptance

He's a hand holder. Since he's an intimate person, his preferred position is missionary. He likes this position for a few reasons; he gets to see your expression if you're enjoying it or uncomfortable, he gets to kiss you, and he can hold your hand. It's one of his favorite things to do, not only because he finds it much more romantic, but he also loves how you squeeze his hand when you're getting close.

Teasing is one of the things he does best. But verbal teasing, not physical. You can hear him giggle anytime he's inside you, practically taunting you when he knows you're close. He'd say something dumb like, "aw, is princess gonna cum?" And then have a shit eating grin on his face.

Pet names are another thing he uses often. Like I said previously, he'd call you princess, but there's also other names he'd call you during the act. Love, darling, and angel are the ones he uses for you most commonly, aside from princess of course.

I saw someone else say this on here and their hcs were actually what made me want to write (I swear on my SOUL I am NOT trying to copy them 🙏🙏🙏🙏 sorry if it comes off like that) but they said Curly would be buff and I completely agree. He would be HUGE, I'm thinking 6'3-6'5, easily over 220lbs.

The manhandling would go CRAZY, you don't like a position? No issue, he'll just pick you up and put you in a different one. Can't keep your legs open while he's being a munch? As much as he enjoys the feeling of suffocating between your thighs, which believe me, he does, he can't exactly pleasure you if he's unconscious from the lack of airflow. Not a big issue, a firm hand on each leg will do the trick.

Another comment on his body alone to wrap this up; he'd definitely be muscular in his legs and especially his arms. I think his stomach would be toned, not a six pack, but toned. Maybe even a little pudge and a v line 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: hi guys pls send requests for curly fics plasplsplspslsplsplslsplspls I'm so thirsty for this man oh ky god I'm crynng

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[5:24 pm]

"Nice try, we don't believe you guys," your friend laughed sarcastically as they walked through your front door to catch sight of you and childhood best friend!Jeno pressed together looking like a loved up couple.

For some reason, over the nearly 20 years of friendship with Jeno, it had become some kind of ongoing bit for the two of you to act like a couple. Usually you had good reason, like someone being annoying and not leaving either of you alone, or someone hitting on either one of you but not getting the hint.

Other times, it was just to mess with your friends, your friends who were far too used to it and tired of it. At least 80% of the hang outs you all had would start with you and Jeno claiming you were a couple. The first few times they fell for it, but now it was just the normal. They weren't tired because it wasn't funny, it was kind of funny. Funny because the two of you were so clearly in love with each other yet refuse to act on it.

Jeno never protected anyone the way he protected you. You didn't care for anyone the way you cared for Jeno. You both had so many inside jokes that the others would never understand. You both could have conversations with just your eyes, you both knew things about the other that no normal friends would know about each other. You were both each other's first call when something went wrong, the first text in the morning, and your last text at night (if you didn't fall asleep while on a call). You both refused to get into relationships with other people, because somethings always felt "wrong."

Yeah, your friends had all decided that you were both idiots and the "wrong-ness" was always just that the potential partner wasn't you or Jeno. However, tonight you and Jeno had decided to commit. Your friends were going to believe it if it was the last thing they did.

"We're actually like really together this time, today is officially one week and 3 days," you tell your friends as you all settle down on the couch to start your movie marathon.

"We've fallen for that too many times now. Just give it up," your friend waves off.

"Yeah, start the movie," another friend sighs.

Jeno gulps, standing suddenly, "I think we would really just appreciate the support of our friends as we navigate our new relationship."

"Look guys, it's the same routine every time. You guys claim to be together and the only difference is that you take your usual affection to another level of annoying. If you were ever actually together, you wouldn't feel the need to announce it every few weeks or still be on dating apps. I mean, Jeno, didn't you ask me just a few days ago why you were still getting Hinge emails?" Your first friend asks, crossing their arms.

"Plus, I think you guys would be that annoying couple that would be shameless and kiss in front of us all the time," another friend pipes up.

Jeno's face falls into a serious look, he grabs your hand and tugs you up. Your chest crashes into his own as your eyes widen in surprise. The plan had simply been to cuddle, giggle, and maybe sit in his lap.

Your friends all paused, eyes full of caution as they watched the two of you. Jeno's breathing was uneven and nervous as his eyes searched your own.

You blinked and his forehead was pressed against your own and as you gasped in surprise his lips met your own. He was still for just a moment, giving you the opportunity to pull away, to smack him, to tell him he was crazy, but you didn't.

Instead, your breath hitched as you kissed him back. His lips were soft and his hands even softer as he delicately cupped your face. Your lips moved in sync, slow, tentative, but meaningful. You could feel your heart pounding in your ears, his heart was beating just as fast under your hand.

Your friends all eyed each other awkwardly. This had never happened before. It was only when your hand moved from Jeno's chest to gripping the cotton at his waist to pull him closer that they all got the message and left while high fiving each other on the way out.

You and Jeno were far too entangled in one another to even care. One of hands went from your face to your waist and the other went to the back of your neck. His gently tilted your head up to kiss you more deeply.

Everything was slow and passionate, but it felt right. There were explosions happening all around you, remnant sparks from Jeno's lips that shot right down your spine. Why had you waited so long to do this? Why had you deprived yourself of this feelings for all these years? You couldn't even fight how your body melted against his as your grip on his shirt became desperate and your lungs burned for air. You couldn't find it in yourself to pull away, too greedy for more, more, more.

Jeno pulled away first, lips swollen and chest heaving as he caught his breath. His forehead was pressed against your own, "I don't think we can be friends anymore."

A choked squeak escaped your throat involuntarily, "I'm sorry?"

"No, don't be sorry. I could have said that better," Jeno chuckles, his hands softly cupping your face to keep you from looking away. "I can't be just friends with you when I don't have friendly feelings for you. I can't believe it took this long, it's always been something in the back of my mind, but I think I love you-- no. I know I love you."

"After that kiss, I don't have friendly feelings for you either. I guess when I think about it, there's no one else that will get me like you. No one will ever know me better than you or understand me like you do. I love you too, Jeno. And I really, really want to keep kissing you," You confess breathlessly.

"I don't think they'd like it if we keep kissing, unfortunately," Jeno sighs, despite his words leaning in toward you again.

It's then that you notice how quiet your living room is. You pull away to look around the room, finally noticing that it's just you and Jeno in your apartment. "What the... when did everyone leave?" You wonder aloud.

"Who cares? Let's keep kissing," Jeno replies, tugging you closer. And who are you to argue?

[yanderefarm]

Emil and Nephite me underrated loves

How do you think they’d both react to like extreme dirty talk outside of the bedroom? Like whispering filthy things into their ears when they’re supposed to be doing something (ie, Emil attending to kingly duties and Nephite helping at the church)

Also can I be 🐙 anon?

cw;; public sex, dirty talk, religion, omegaverse

this is so funny I've talked to you several times already now but i hadn't done this request yet. the same is true for mousey.

"you look so good tonight."

you allow emil to lead your body through the dance, your attention far more focused on the way his cravat made his chest pop. he can clearly tell you're distracted but he just smirks instead of commenting on your lingering eye.

"i appreciate that. you look exquisite yourself."

he turns you both as the other couples do so, the dance is light and relatively easy. your hand takes the opportunity to grip his muscles firmly, earning a choked breath from your husband.

"oh oops. is that where i grabbed you last night?"

his smile widened devilishly, a smile that made normal people tremble.

"yes, i believe so."

"what were we doing again..."

you heard his breath hitch.

"riiiight~" you squeezed the bruise again. "i was fucking you stupid."

"... dear."

he says it like a warning but you know it's empty.

"you looked so pretty and slutty with drool and cum dripping down your stupid face."

"(y/n)."

"your outfit would look even better stained in my cum too wouldn't it?"

his ears were burning and his golden hair fell further into his eyes like it was naturally trying to hide his embarrassment.

"can't wait til this stupid party is over... you're gonna gag on my cock like you love."

"please."

his dancing slowed as it became harder to move.

"please?"

".... i need you."

"we're at a party."

"i don't care."

you smiled and leaned your head against his chest. "I'll be nice and fuck your face after this dance. dirty slut."

that song seemed to last forever.

———

god, this cult event is so boring. nephite, your beautiful wife, is completely enraptured by the elder's words. and of course he had to pick the seats at the front so you had no hope of sneaking out. you let out another sigh, the third in as many minutes, before laying your head on your wife's shoulder.

"honey... I'm trying to pay attention."

he whispered like a scolding parent. you leaned your head the other way a pout on your lips. you heard the elder say something like "you need to let him come inside."

"that's what she said." you whispered to your wife with a little smile.

"what she said?? honey, im trying to listen."

he brushed you off again but instead of getting dejected you decided to tease him. make him regret picking the front row seats.

"y'know... like she wants him to cum inside~"

you watched your wife's cheeks burn a bright pink but he folded his lips pressing them tight against his teeth. oh he was gonna try to ignore you.

"y'know like last night... you begged for me to cum inside~"

your hand traveled from behind his back to brush across his thigh. you could see him jump his blush spreading further.

"you like it when he cums inside huh? filthy boy~"

"stop-"

he squeaked loud enough to draw some eyes to you two but you quickly pulled away from him and acted like you weren't even near him. luckily the deaf old man on the stage didn't notice. once the eyes wandered back to being bored you closed in around your wife again.

"don't be noisy... you want them to know you're being a perv in this sacred place?"

"y-you-! you're-you're the one being a p-perv!"

people looked at him again this time you pulled him closer to your chest and gave them a look to say you were sorry he was being noisy.

"c'mon, honey. be quiet or i won't cum inside when we're done."

you watched the dichotomy between his face looking at you incredulously and his thighs rubbing together.

"we could leave early... we could go to the bathroom. wanna sit here with my cum trailing down your thighs? your neck all marked and messy... your poor c-"

"please. please. (y/n), please."

you could see tears forming in his eyes as his face was completely red.

"please what?"

"wanna go home."

you smiled, proud of yourself.

[sv5hive]

too little, too late. | lh44

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

content warning(s): angst, swearing, lewis is a bit of a dick in this sorry, unhappy ending because i love being miserable 🫶🏻

word count: 1,763

note: thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs on my first work a few days ago!! i didn't expect all the love so it is very, very appreciated :) this is a bit long so get comfy! and i also listened to you're losing me by taylor swift while writing so... yeah.

(psst! part 2 is here!)

(masterlist!)

memories from the night you two met flashed through your mind as you stood alone in the dim kitchen. the hangover from the next morning meant most of the night was a blur of shots, flashing lights and sweaty bodies but those deep brown eyes and endearing smile remained sharply in focus.

you stared at the two cold plates of dinner abandoned on the table and a bottle of wine nearing the end.

where had it all gone wrong?

six years.

six years of supporting him through everything.

and you loved being with lewis no matter what. seeing him in his element while racing was just as exciting for you as it was for him. but when would it end? you couldn't keep your life on pause forever.

back in 2017 when you first started dating you discussed a life of peace. a life with a big family and a nice house in england where your children could grow up normally like the both of you did. and you weren't foolish. you would never truly have peace when you were in a relationship with lewis hamilton, the face of formula 1. but you were willing to give up any sense of normality if it meant you could be with the love of your life.

or so you thought.

years passed as you watched all your friends get engaged and married, settle down and start their own families. at every bachelorette party, wedding reception, baby shower, family event you would be asked the same questions.

"when is he going to pop the question? you two have to get married! i bet he's planning to do it soon."

and every time you would have the same response.

"oh we're just taking it slow. he's pretty busy with racing and we both agreed that it wouldn't be fair for him to be away so much."

and you really did believe that at first.

either you didn't notice the stares of pity or you ignored them to convince yourself that everything was ok. it was only when you brought up the idea of finally having kids that you started doubting yourself.

"hey, lew. i've been thinking."

"hmm, yeah? what about." he replied absentmindedly, still searching netflix for a good movie to watch.

you passed him the bowl of popcorn to hold while you got under the blanket.

"i was thinking that we're finally ready to start a family."

he stilled. that was the last thing he thought you would bring up.

"lewis?"

"i want a family too, you know that. but i can't retire without getting that eighth championship. we're almost there. besides, i don't wanna leave you at home with a kid and not be there for every step of the way."

both of you knew at the rate mercedes was going, lewis would need a miracle and a half to win another title against red bull and their rocket ship.

he avoided your eyes and clearly thought that was the end of the matter so you accepted that when he was ready he would tell you. right?

you tossed and turned that night, unable to get the way he brushed off the topic so coldly out of your head. did you imagine it? that flicker of hesitance on his face? a pit of uneasiness settled at the bottom of your stomach as you desperately tried to reason with yourself. no. everything is fine. you had already waited a few years. what was a couple more?

so you tucked away your dreams of a family into the back of your mind for the time being and just enjoyed your relationship with lewis. every date felt like the first and you never wanted your love to end.

"lewis...this is too much!" as you stared in awe at the lone table in the middle of a completely empty restaurant.

rose petals led you two all the way from the entrance to a table with a single rose stood in a vase in the centre as candles flickered softly.

"for you? never."

staring at him in the golden light, you couldn't help but blush at his romantic gesture. he was making up for being away during a triple header and you hated to admit it but you could get used to this.

racing. you smiled at the thought of seeing lewis race. it was like seeing an artist produce a masterpiece every time pencil hit paper. he truly was an incredible sight to see.

you were there for each of his championships since 2017. you witnessed the joy of 2020 and the heartbreak of 2021. you were there, celebrating each win with him and consoling him after each loss, every time. you had fallen in love with the sport you once had no knowledge of just as hard as you had fallen for lewis. you knew how much of a toll each season took on him and you were always going to be there to pick him back up. his world became yours as you met his team and soon enough you were a familiar sight in the mercedes garage.

wasn't seven world championships enough for him?

you would never ask him to give up his career for you. and he would never ask that of you. but after years of waiting for the next step you couldn't help but wonder whether he still wanted that with you.

he was more than an hour late now. both of your schedules had been almost completely full for the past few months and you thought it would be nice to catch up over homemade dinner.

apparently he didn't think the same.

you hadn't bothered calling or texting. he always turned his phone off while at work anyways. as you finished off the last mouthful of wine the jingle of keys and the door unlocking brought you back out of your thoughts.

heavy footsteps trudged through the hallway.

"hey baby, i didn't think you would be up- what's all this?"

"dinner. i've been waiting for two hours now." you turned away from the counter to face him.

"shit. i am so sorry. i just got so caught up at work. we've been trying to improve the car to-"

"-to beat red bull. i know. i know."

"i promise i'll make it up to you. what about dinner next week? at that chinese restaurant you really like?" he walked towards you and went to wrap his arms around you before you pushed him away.

"stop, lewis. just stop. i can't keep doing this." you couldn't look him in the eyes.

a pin drop could be heard as lewis' blood ran cold.

"what?"

the change in atmosphere almost made you wish you had never said anything. almost.

"i can't keep waiting on you, lewis. i'm sorry."

"i said i would make it up to you." the look of pure confusion on his face would be amusing if it weren't for the fact that you were on the verge of tears.

"it's not just about dinner, lewis."

"then what is it about?"

"everything. god, we've been together for eight years and we're not even engaged and nowhere near starting a family. we have nothing to show for it. i knew i would have to wait and i was fine with that but i just can't anymore. this isn't what i imagined for us."

"so what? you're just going to leave? you know how i feel about having kids."

"and i get that, i do. but are you even planning on retiring in the near future? we're not getting any younger and i've been ready for a while now. i just don't think our ideas of our future are the same anymore."

"am i just meant to drop everything for you then? give it all up?"

"fuck, of course not, lewis. i would never ask you to do that. never. but sometimes it feels like you choose your career over me. and i know what it takes to be in formula 1 to win, i know you need to give it your full focus. i just, i need you to choose me for once. choose us."

"no, you don't know what it takes because if you did, you wouldn't be doing this to me right now. in the middle of the season."

you blinked. once. twice. you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"are you fucking kidding me, lewis? i'm ending our six year relationship and you're thinking of how it's going to effect your season?"

"yes! fuck, this is my whole life. it always has been and it always will be."

there it is. confirmation from the man himself. you stumbled on your words trying to convey your anger as your blood continuously boiled at his miserable attempt to fix his mess.

"have you ever even thought about how i've felt all these years? giving every excuse in the book to our families and friends about why we haven't taken the next step in our relationship and defending you when they said i was too good for you? you may get to avoid them by going to the races but i don't have that privilege."

your throat was dry at this point as you gasped for air and still, he was stood almost unbothered at the fact you were hopelessly clinging onto the last remaining threads of your relationship, willing him to fight back.

"so that's it? you're not going to stop me?"

tears pooled at your eyes as you realised this was really happening.

"well clearly you've thought this out pretty well."

you didn't know whether to laugh, cry or throw the empty bottle of wine at his head.

"you are fucking unbelievable, lewis. i thought this meant something to you but clearly not."

you stormed towards the door and opened it. you paused while silently hoping he would beg you to stay. hoping he would risk everything for you.

but it never came.

you wiped away your tears and tried to at least sound somewhat assertive despite your voice wavering.

"let me know when you're not at home and i'll come get my things."

you slammed the door shut with a resounding bang and walked away from the place and person you had called home for so long.

he sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. as he moved to get a beer out of the fridge his gaze fell on the calendar stuck to the front. there was a red heart around today's date with "anniversary!" written in your handwriting.

fuck.

note: yikes. i hope you aren't too sad because of me. any feedback is appreciated!! let me know what else you wanna see :)

[jayden-writes]

fragile

pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader

wordcount: ~1.5k

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

cw: descriptions of an injury (sprained ankle)

summary: When you sprain your ankle, Lucifer doesn't appreciate your attempt at hiding it.

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // based on this drawing by @sbmlamb // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!

There was no doubt in your mind that you must have been the clumsiest being in all three realms. Twisting your ankle because you simply tried to keep up with the long strides of a demon? How utterly embarrassing.

Gritting your teeth, you kept following the brother that was escorting you back to the House of Lamentation today - Satan. It seemed as though he hadn't noticed the way you were falling behind or your minor accident at all, being too engrossed in his rant about something Lucifer had done.

Despite the mixture of pain and numbness radiating up your lower leg, you managed to catch up with him, maintaining a mostly normal expression and a steady gait. Turning his head towards you, the anger drained from his features as he observed you. He took in your carefully masked suffering and how your shoulders were heaving with the effort it had required to get back to him.

“I'm sorry,” he said, slowing his pace and giving you a worried glance, “I hadn’t realized that I was too fast for you. Are you alright? It looks like you’re in pain.”

Cursing yourself internally, you racked your brain for a believable excuse.

“I… uhm… I just have a stitch in my side. No big deal,” you explained, shooting him a reassuring smile.

Satan nodded and visibly relaxed at your words, returning his attention to the path. From that point on, the walk back was spent in comfortable stillness with him occasionally glancing at you. When you reached the mansion and entered, you exhaled a quiet sigh of relief and waved goodbye, heading straight for your room as quickly as you could without putting too much weight on your foot while still walking normally. Finally inside your own space, you hobbled towards your bed, sitting down to take off your shoe and sock, which jostled your ankle, and caused you to hiss in agony. Once it was bare, your eyes widened at the sight of it swollen and bruised.

“Fuck…” you muttered and attempted to move it, which only made the pain worse.

Suddenly, there were knocks on your door, startling you.

“Oi! It’s your turn to make dinner!” called Mammon’s voice out from the other side. Right. Of course. You had completely forgotten about that.

“Give me a moment!” you yelled back and you heard him disappear again.

Sighing, you removed the second shoe too, and slipped into a pair that had a looser fit to reduce the pressure on your foot. Then you limped towards the doorway, biting your tongue to stifle the pained whimpers threatening to escape you, and opened it. Peering outside, you looked to your left and right, checking whether someone was around. Satisfied at not seeing anybody, you stepped out and silently shut the door behind you. Making your way to the kitchen, you put as little strain as possible on the ankle.

Aside from being embarrassed about your clumsiness, you also didn’t want them to worry about you or for them to start treating you as if you were a fragile thing. You weren’t. You really weren’t. You were a human and they were demons. Surely, you would be able to handle this just fine on your own, and wouldn't have to rely on one of the brothers.

It took you almost twice as long as usual to get to the kitchen, but once you did, you immediately started gathering all of the supplies you needed to prepare the meal. Still, you stayed vigilant, closely listening for any noises so you’d know when to stop limping.

What you hadn’t accounted for, however, was the practiced silence of Lucifer’s steps. You didn’t hear him arrive, rather, you felt his presence, the way his crimson gaze burned into your back. It made the hairs on your neck stand up and you whipped around to see him leaning against the doorframe, his eyes narrowed and fixed on you.

“And what exactly,” he drawled, pushing himself off the frame to saunter towards you, “do you think you’re doing?”

“Cooking dinner…?” you replied hesitantly, although it sounded more like a question than an answer. His tall figure loomed over you, and you tried your best to maintain a casual position that kept your weight off your foot.

“Is that so?” he hummed thoughtfully, scrutinizing you. “What made you think that this was a good idea in your current state?”

“Huh? Come again?”

“You are hurt, are you not?” Lucifer’s voice was calm and collected, in contrast to the displeasure evident on his face.

“I’m not, I’m totally fi-” you began, only to be cut off by him saying your name sharply.

“Do not take me for a fool. Answer me. What made you think walking around with an injury was a good idea?”

“It’s my turn to cook dinner…” was your meek reply, and he simply sighed deeply.

“Seriously. You are incorrigible. I can’t believe you sometimes. Sit down. Now.”

Reluctantly, you obeyed him. He kneeled in front of you, reaching for your ankle, and pulled the shoe off with careful motions that betrayed the ire he was exuding.

“It’s just a bit twisted. I’m sure it’ll be fine by tomorrow, there’s no need to make a big deal out of this,” you mumbled, grimacing as you watched your swollen and bruised foot become visible again.

“Twisted, you say?” Lucifer echoed, his gloved fingers delicately grasping your injured body part as he examined it. At first, it was painful, but soon a soft glow emanated from his hands, providing a cooling sensation that dulled the ache. “It is not twisted. You sprained it, if not worse.”

“Oh…” you responded quietly. “Well, that’s not good, I guess?”

“Not good…” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. “That certainly is one way to say it. Especially considering that you have foolishly decided to keep straining it.”

Standing back up, he hooked one arm underneath your knees, wrapping the other around your back to lift you up. Your brain short-circuited for a moment as you were held against Lucifer’s chest. He was already halfway to your room when you managed to recover yourself and glanced up at his face to study his stern expression. Red eyes darted down to meet yours, and you flinched internally at the combination of anger and disappointment swirling in them, swiftly averting your gaze. Once he had entered, he placed you on the bed and made sure to elevate your ankle, then he turned to leave.

“Stay here and do not move. I will return soon,” he said gruffly, and with that, he was gone, leaving you alone. Defeated, you let your head sink into the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Eventually, the door handle was being pushed downwards, and heels clicked across the floor as Lucifer approached you, pulling up a chair to sit on.

“I will perform a quick diagnostic spell. It may cause an odd feeling, just bear with it for a minute,” he informed you matter-of-factly, and you gave an affirming hum, only briefly glancing at him to catch a glimpse of first-aid materials before looking away again. Mumbling some words under his breath, he grazed his fingertips over the swollen flesh, the leather of his gloves barely touching your skin. It was silent for a while and your foot prickled until he withdrew his touch.

“You are lucky. Nothing is broken, however, one of the ligaments is partially torn,” Lucifer explained plainly. “You will have to stay in bed and rest for at least a week.”

“A week?!” you exclaimed indignantly, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “You can’t be serious! What about RAD? I have a presentation in two days!”

He huffed in annoyance and shot you a glare, taking out bandages.

“You have two options: either you will stay in bed voluntarily or I will have you tied to it. So, what shall it be, hm?”

Without offering a response, you sank back into the bed.

“Good. I’m glad you’re finally being reasonable,” he grumbled and started wrapping your ankle up carefully.

Turning your head away from him, you clenched your jaw tightly when the pain that he had dulled earlier with whatever spell he had used resurfaced temporarily. Lucifer heaved a faint sigh as he took note of your stubborn stillness and your tense posture. As soon as he was done, he put a cold compress on your ankle and sat on the bed next to you, the mattress sinking under his weight. He spoke your name; you didn’t respond.

“Come on now,” he whispered, his voice much gentler now, and he stroked a hand over your hair, “I am simply looking out for you, you know that, right? You are far too reckless with your health.”

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, and pouted, but you turned your gaze back towards him, observing his softened expression as he hovered over you.

“Don’t deflect,” he chuckled, and cupped your cheek, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I will make up for it, alright? I am going to keep you company. Does that sound agreeable to you?”

“Fine…” you breathed.

“That’s my good human,” Lucifer cooed, tilting your face up to brush his lips against yours. “Now, rest.”

[somewherebetweendisorder]

Gloomy

Jason Todd x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, language

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: smut is so hard to write guys. I tried, but maybe too hard. As always like, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

~~

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY, REPOST, OR USE MY WORK IN ANY WAY.

~~

The air conditioner in your car has been out for two summers. Normally it's not a big deal. Normally you'd roll the windows down. Normally you'd dress for the season. Normally Jason's hulking frame wouldn't be taking up more than his fair share of the cramped cabin. 

But today the Gotham skies have released torrential rains, and the air is thick with uncharacteristic humidity. Jason grumbles from beside you, shifting around in the passenger seat. His fingers twitch against his denim clad knees, tapping out a restless beat. Suddenly he reaches for the AC button, turning it on and off and on and off. 

"God, you're sure the damn thing doesn't work?"

Despite the tacky, wet sweat blazing a trail down your back, and your general frustration with the situation a small smile tugs at your lips. "Yes Jason, I'm sure. The whole thing is bad."

He sighs, loud and long. "Why haven't you said anything? I could have gotten it fixed."

And that's just the thing. At any point over the past two years, if you'd so much as mentioned it in passing to Jason, or Dick, or Bruce -hell, even Tim- it would be a non-issue. You know this, know their generosity knows no bounds for family, and neither do their bank accounts, but this is yours. Be it pride, or independence, this was just something you want for yourself. Even if you're not making progress with the situation, but Jason for all his finer qualities, wouldn't agree. 

"I love you, Jason."

He sighs again, and fiddles with the volume. The rain comes down impossibly harder, and you slow accordingly, the white lines on the road indistinguishable. 

"Just pull over here," he offers, pointing to the parking lot out his window. 

The store is closed given the hour, and the parking lot is empty. Flicking on your turn signal you make the turn, pulling into a spot and cutting the engine. Now the only sound is the tinny patter of the storm on the roof of your car, and the distant roll of thunder. Jason sighs again, attempting to stretch out his knee, which cracks in response. An awkward giggle spills past your lips, earning a crooked grin from Jason.

"Some weather, huh?"

His face is pretty and haunted in the dim yellow light of the nearby streetlamp, skin warm and inviting. The little scars scattered across his face almost glow in the dark, splitting his lip, and running jagged through his eyebrow where the little hairs won't regrow.

"Yeah, some weather," you echo softly, gaze mapping his features. 

He closes the distance, planting a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth before retreating, but not completely. He lingers large in the narrow space between your seats, body twisted towards you. "What's on your mind, ma?"

"You."

It's an honest answer, neither unusual or surprising. He blinks slowly, quiet, waiting for you to elaborate if you wish. You bypass the talking option, twisting around in your own seat, bringing your hands up to cup his face, your thumb skidding gently across the prominent pink-white scar on his upper lip. He kisses the pad of your thumb, teal eyes raking across your face.

And it doesn't take a lot, hardly anything at all to lean forward and close the gap again, pressing your lips so softly against his. It's teasing, gentle, and not nearly enough. Jason lets you do it once, twice, three times before he's had enough and nips at your bottom lip, teeth sinking into the pillowy flesh. You shouldn't give in so easily, you know that, but the action has you breathing out a soft moan, chasing his kiss with fervor. 

You're caught in his web now, planting a knee up on the middle console to follow him as he cranks the seat back as far as he can. He's yanking at the sleeves of your jacket as you tumble on top of him, eager to get it off. Eager to feel more skin, more of you. You slot your knees on either side of his waist, your right knee digging into seat-belt buckle but you hardly notice. Sitting back you pull your arms our of the sleeves of your jacket, chucking it across the backseat as your shirt follows. Large hands settling on your hips he grinds you down against him, eyes darkening as you unhook your bra. His undoes the button on your jeans, tapping your ass so you sit up to help get them off.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful."

He can't seem to decide what to do with his hands. They flex restlessly against the doughy flesh of your hips before flattening against the expanse of your back and tugging you down to him. His lips are on yours again, nearly bruising as you try to form a coherent thought. 

"Want this off," you mutter, tugging at the soft cotton of his shirt, fingers wandering beneath them hem to run softly across the slip of skin. His abs tense in response, a groan getting stuck in the back of his throat. He leans up just enough to tear it off before he's leaning back and taking you with his, lips burning a wet path across your jaw, down your neck and between the valley of your breasts. He's impossibly hard beneath you, and you can't resist the urge to tease him a bit more, grinding down on his arousal just as his tongue licks experimentally across the hardened peak of your nipple. 

It's the same game every time, where Jason knows just what it takes to turn you into a whimpering, sticky mess, but feigns ignorance. Your fingers anchor into the soft hair at the base of his skull, tugging gently. He groans again, finding his way to your other breast to lavish it in the same sloppy love. You try to be still, you really do, his hands firm against your waist, but the calm facade is impossible to manage when he guides you back and forth over his bulge, the friction fanning the flames building low in your gut. 

"Jason please. Please," you gasp out just as his teeth sink into your nipple, just hard enough. "I need you." 

His belt jangles in the stifling air of the cabin, and you huff impatiently when his zipper sticks. Finally you're shoving the denim our of the way, and he slipping his boxers down to pull out his throbbing dick. You hover, too eager, too hot, too hungry to wait, and he's guiding you down, the sound of pleasure ripping from your lungs a little too loud, but he hardly minds. He builds a steady pace, the skin on skin filling the car, the smell of sex thick. One of his hands stays anchored in your hair, tipping your head back so he has easy access to the slick column of your throat and breasts, his other hand on your hip. 

And you're so close, his swollen tip hitting that spongy spot with every thrust up into you. You reach down to play with your slit, chasing that high, determined to hit it together. Your scrape your nails against his navel earning a throaty whimper from the main beneath you, and fuck, if that isn't the most delicious sound. You clench around your boyfriend as your climax crashes over you, dragging him along, and he lets out a harsh groan as his thrusts grow sloppy. 

"Fuck, baby, cum for me."

And that does it. The string that's been stretched tighter and tighter snaps as you gush around his throbbing cock. You collapse against his chest, thoroughly spent. 

"Good girl," he chuckles, knuckles brushing against your back as he pushes your hair over your shoulder. The heat that was so unbearable doesn't seem quite as awful now. 

As you come back into your body thunder booms overhead, startling you as you jerk in Jason's arms. He huffs a soft laugh, tipping your chin up to kiss you on the bridge of your nose. You reach an arm up and draw a heart into the condensation on the window as it begins to bleed little tracks of moisture down the glass. He draws a dick next to it, just for good measure, and pulls you into a kiss. And it's moments like there when you're really glad to be alive; really glad to be with him.

[niphredil-14]

hey so the rottmnt boys tend to think their appearance would be an issue in attracting someone to them. So how do you think they would deal with a s/o who one day unprompted, the boys are just doing normal things, is like “It’s frustrating how everything you do is so attractive to me” and s/o hides face in pillow and makes a groaning noise, like they can’t contain themselves, but are trying too. S/o ends up giving their boys a massive smooch once they get themselves out of their pillow confinement?

thanks so much for sending this in! I've been dying to get some more tmnt requests! I don't write for Mikey unless I'm feeling super inspired specifically for him, so sorry about that. Hope you enjoy!

Leonardo: He may be the self proclaimed "face-man," but we all know that he deals with quite a bit of insecurity. Growing up watching movies with attractive people who look nothing like you can be discouraging, as can having to live in the sewers your whole life because the humans in the above-ground-world would see you as a hideous monster. While dating you, he never once took you for granted, because he knew how fortunate he was to have you. I don't think he would ever intentionally tell you about his insecurities, but it wouldn't be hard to figure out. So when you tell him that, and get so frustrated at your own lack of control over yourself and your emotions, it flusters him. He'd be so grateful that you shoved your face into the pillow because that meant that you wouldn't be able to tell just how flustered he was. He would try to cooly play it off as if it meant nothing to him, but the breathy tone to his voice, and the slight shake of it as he spoke gave it away.

"Well what did you expect? You didn't seriously think that you could be immune to my charm, did you?"

Raphael: I think that Raphael would be a bit more open about his emotions and insecurities with you, not completely, or all the time, but he would most certainly be better at communicating with you when he struggles than Leo would. He most likely told you when the two of you began dating that he was surprised that someone as attractive as you would ever want to go out with a big, scary mutant like him. It would probably take quite some time for your affirmations to sink in and become believable for him, he would appreciate your compliments, but it wouldn't be until much later in the relationship that he would be able to genuinely believe that you thought he was handsome. He might become more accustomed to your compliments, and I doubt that he would ever outright deny them, but I think it would be a while for him to stop doubting, if ever. But whenever you complimented him, especially out of the blue or unprompted, he would become so, so, so soft. His eyes would get all big, a smile as bright as the sun would be exposed by his lips stretching back against his beak, and a slow, steady thump, thump, thump would be heard from his heavy tail banging against the nearest surface.

"You're just too sweet, Doll."

Donatello:

Probably the most insecure out of all the brothers. Though it was all out of love, his brothers (especially Leo) teased him a lot growing up, and he had spent a good amount of time feeling inferior to theme in any way that didn't involve brains. He had been keenly aware of the fact that they would most likely all never find love, but he had convinced himself that even if by some miracle his brothers were able to, that he would never have the privilege. He wasn't big and strong like Raph, or confident and outgoing like Leo, or as friendly and cute as Mikey. He was a cold, introverted man who only knew how to navigate his tech. So when he got into a relationship, as happy as he was, he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was convinced that it was all just a moment's lapse of judgement on their part, and that soon they would realize their mistake, and leave him behind. Because of that mindset, he had endeavored to savor every single moment he spent with his partner, he lavished them with every gift he could think of, and made sure that, even though he wasn't overly affectionate by nature, that they never forgot, even for a second, how much they meant to him, even if he was convinced that he cared for them much more than they could ever care for a monster such as himself. He would never admit these insecurities to them, he did not want them to feel obligated to reassure him, he didn't want to bring them down, but it was clear to them with the look of pure shock and disbelief that he let slip whenever they complimented him, and so they continued to, in hopes that they could crack through his walls, and convince him that they loved him just as much as he loved them. And every time they looked his way, no matter how long they were together, or would be together, it would feel like a gift from the highest of deities, a blessing for their most loving devotee. He may never fully stop viewing himself as a "monster," but it was okay, so long as he was theirs.

"If Ceres was graced with the gift of the Sun's praise, my dear, it would not feel a googolth of what I do when you so much as gaze in my direction."

(can you tell who's my favorite lol) REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[sweet-writings9]

Only For Them | one

Summary: A lone omega was on the run from a ruthless alpha. Running was all she knew until she bumped to two certain alphas that would change her life forever. Crazy things happen to her once she realizes that they are her mate. Two mates. How will she able to cope?

Characters: Omega!Fem!reader , Alpha!Steve Rogers, Alpha!Bucky Barnes (James Barnes)

genre: omegaverse au, alternative au, love, humor, angst, comfort, yandere

warning: self harm, suicide, dark past, trauma, insecure thoughts

notes: i'm so glad you all really liked the prologue hehe i was so shocked at how many messages i got. you guys are amazing and I'm glad you guys like it so much. Here's the first part which isn't much but it'll soon get better. :) hope you like this. feedback is appreciated! thank you again!

It was black.

Pitch black.

Nothing was to be seen from miles away.

[Y/N] ran as far as her legs could go. Even with the darkness, she forced herself to keep on moving. She wouldn't stop. She couldn't. She wanted to turn into her wolf form but she couldn't. She panicked as she kept moving.

She wondered why.

Why was she here? Why was it so dark? Where was she?

She was focusing on her running that she couldn't focus on her change form. Her breaths came out rapidly and loud as she couldn't control her breathing from all the running she had done. She didn’t know why she felt so weak. Normally, she would last hours running but now she could barely catch her breath. It felt like she was running for hours. She then turned back to see nothing but darkness getting closer to her which scared her more.

Pitch black.

She didn't know why she was running away or from who but she had that gut feeling telling her to keep moving. She had to. There must be a reason why she was here. She slowly started to slow down as she felt her legs giving out. She fell to the ground as she started to take deep breaths so she can breathe again. Calming down her heartbeat since it was beating rapidly. She sighed as she leaned against a tree big enough to hide her entire body which was a mistake as she started to hear voices around her.

Multiple voices that she's never heard before.

She gasped as she looked around, expecting for someone to come out and laugh at her, revealing all this to be a joke like some alphas from the past that would do it to her all the time; but nothing came which scared her even more.

The waiting. The anxiety was killing her slowly.

She suddenly felt a sharp pain coming from her chest, placing her hand where she felt the pain. She slowly looked down, seeing blood dripping everywhere. Her blood. Her eyes widen as she opened her mouth to yell for help.

But she couldn't.

It was like she couldn't speak.

Like her vocal cords were ripped out of her throats.

Then, she heard those voices again.

"You're nothing but a weak omega!"

"You're just weak. Trash to everyone!"

"Just die already!"

Those words that always have made her heart hurt more than everything. She never showed her weakness to anyone but she felt her heart break each time.

Those words that haunt her everyday since she could remember.

Until she heard that voice. His voice.

"[Y/N]…"

She heard it clearly yet it sounded so far away that she hardly heard it over the other voices. She closed her eyes slowly as she felt the cold ground against her back as she soon blacked out. Still hearing someone calling her name but she couldn't open her eyes. She was slowly dying.

[Y/N] gasped loudly as she sat up and looked around, seeing herself in the middle of a street. She gripped her head as it felt like a pile of bricks fell on her until she heard a loud honk coming from her right. She slowly turned to see a few cars coming her way. Her eyes widen as she quickly got up from her feet and ran away as she heard a few curse words coming from behind her. She ran towards a dark alley and fell on her knees as she couldn’t feel her legs. She felt drips of sweat crawling down of her face as fear was written all over her face. She doesn’t remember anything. Nothing at how she got here. In this city. She was about to get up until she felt a sting feeling coming from her chest.

It was time. 

It was heat season. 

The worst time of the year that she hated so much. 

After all, she was an unmarked omega. 

Every year it would get stronger and more aggressive that she could hardly bear with it but she managed with it. Sadly, she had to stay away from anyone, hide that way she wouldn't be able to attack anyone or the other way around. The heat was something so vicious and it could turn the innocent to monsters. 

She crawled back until her back was leaning against the brick walls as she tried to calm her breathing. Her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest but she knew that it'll be over soon. She just had to stay hidden and away from everyone, especially Alphas. She didn't know how long she'll be able to manage since she was in New York. In the place filled with all sorts of people. It was the worst time for her to be on heat. She leaned her head back as she closed her eyes and tried to ease her mind and heart. She slowly calmed her body as she fell into a deep slumber.

Yet, who would ever want someone like her? 

Somewhere out of the city

Tossing and turning, sweat dripping all over his body. Words mumbling out of his mouth as the dream was taking over. He had been like this several night. Ever since he started having these dreams of this woman. This woman that he didn't know at all, but he kept dreaming about her.

Her running away from him.

The more he calls for her. The more far she goes.

It makes his wolf howl for her.

Bucky can't stand it. He needed to see her. To be close to her.

"STOP!" He screamed out as he sat up on his bed, breathing heavily as he looked around to see himself in his room once again.

He cursed under his breath as he rubbed his face that was filled with sweat.

It has been several days since he had been having the same dream. The same person every time. It always ended the same too.

Once he would reach her, she was gone. Vanished like she didn't exist at all.

It would make his chest hurt so much that he just wanted to rip out his heart out to stop all the pain. The disappointment.

He leaned back down as he tried to calm himself down. He turned to the side to find the other side of bed empty where usually Steve would sleep. He sighed as he figured that he must of been called for a mission. He was always out helping everyone unlike him that was still trying to deal with everything that has been happening to him. The nightmares. The triggers that would take him back to the past. His horrible past that he just wanted to erase. Now with these dreams, he felt like he was going even more insane. He had the urge to just go out and find their scent.

Their scent filled with strawberries. Sweet strawberries.

It made his mouth watery just by the thought but he shook his head. After everything he has done, he didn't deserve a mate. No one. He felt out of place, but his friends; Steve and Sam would always help him out.

Mostly Steve since he was his mate.

Sam would annoy him and he'd do the same back to him which would always be a rowdy argument.

With them by his side, the cold walls became warm and welcoming.

Even with the missions he would go to weren't helping him at all. There would be times where something would trigger him and he'd black out and remembering what he used to do back with HYDRA.

Steve noticed right away and would help him out of it, but there was times that it wasn't enough.

He knew that now he couldn't go back to sleep. Too much adrenaline and thoughts going thru his head. He got out of bed and walked to his balcony for some fresh air. He has been doing it ever since the dreams happened. Stayed up all night, trying to forget about her.

The woman that has made his wolf and himself go crazy.

"Who are you?" He whispered as he looked up at the dark sky with stars shining dimly back at him. "Where are you? Why can't I ever catch you?"

Everywhere he looked, he would see mates happily living their lives which he wanted. Just wanted to be normal with a mate, living normally like everyone else yet at the same time he didn't. He knew he didn't deserve that life. He was a killer, well used to be.

He was broken and nobody wanted a mate like him, right?

But he wasn't the only one that was suffering with these dreams. Steve as well.

Steve was up in a hotel in Washington after finishing his mission, he decided to stay the night and leave early morning for NYC to see Bucky. He was concerned for him. He worried for his friend and mate. He knew everything Bucky went through and he was there when Bucky laid it all for him. He didn't judge him at all since he couldn't understand the pain he was going thru.

Yet, he was by his side no matter what.

Nothing would change that. He was his mate after all.

They had been mates ever since they were little and the time that they were apart was torture for them. When they met once again, they were so happy to find each other again. So happy yet they still felt incomplete.

Like something was missing. More like someone.

He felt the same as Bucky, not being worthy of being someone else's mate. He felt like he didn't deserve it.

He didn't deserve a mate.

Didn't deserve that woman in his dreams as well.

The strawberry scent filled his nose and his wolf would howl in joy. He didn't understand whom this person was.

Why he had this effect just by the thought of her?

He sighed as he looked outside of his window as he wondered if that woman was real or just a figure of his imagination.

"This is just ridiculous..." He mumbled to himself as he headed towards his bed and turned off the lamp.

Pitch black all over his room as he laid back down on his bed, trying to get some sleep.

He hoped that morning would come sooner so he can go back to Bucky. He admitted that he missed his mate. His friend. He let out a sigh as he closed his eyes, hoping to forget about that woman that's been in the back of his head ever since the dreams started.

....

[mrsdesade]

Power looks good on you;

Pairing: Homelander x fem!super (I used Ophera as usual) Trope: slow burn, fluff, mutual teasing TW: mention about a shooting and blood, bathroom setting but not so smut, you can find inside a link to another of my one-shot Timeline: The Boys S1 Words count: 2,5k Note: just a self-indulgent one shot that has been in my drafts for too many days, I hope you don't mind reading about a version of Homelander more vulnerable than usual but don't worry, he's always the blonde manipulator we all love

What a very, very particular morning.

During one of your events, a man had jumped out of nowhere and started shooting into the crowd. Anything just to get your attention. The attention of the most desired woman in America.

In a normal situation you would always have chosen a diplomatic path, but you couldn't let him hurt your audience. It wouldn't have been a problem If it weren't for the thousand cameras pointed on you.

After that event, Edgar had called you back to his office, to discuss how impulsive your action had been. And the consequences for Vought's public image. But the real problem was that you didn't feel guilty at all. He deserved it, for interrupting your show, for hurting your fans.

Homelander shrugs nonchalantly at your worried words.

''Come on, Ophera, you're overthinking things. Edgar, what a joke. He can't do a damn thing.''

You reply silently, sighing and taking your gloves off your uniform, your hands are still covered in blood.

''You know, I felt this power coursing through my veins when he begged me, it was intoxicating. I couldn't stop my desire to destroy that man.''

Homelander seems almost intrigued by your words, his eyes shine with a mischievous gleam.

"Ooh yes. I know that feeling, that sense of power. There's something incredibly fulfilling about destroying someone who tries to stand in your way or challenge you.''

You continue to look at your hands stained with dried blood, not knowing whether to feel satisfaction or remorse.

''I don't know what this feeling of brutal vanity is, or where it comes from. I just know that I have a lot of it inside of me.''

"You see, Ophera, it's not just a feeling. It's deeper, it's primal. And beautiful. Some people are just built for it. That bloodlust in you, embrace it. It's a sign of power.'' he approaches you and grasps your hands, inspecting the stained skin with a twisted fascination. He knows what you're experiencing. A cruel and brutal satisfaction.

''A sign of power you say, do you think I'm powerful?''

''Powerful? You possess the skills to conquer anything that comes your way. And that bloodlust, it's the icing on the cake.''

Your smile becomes more amused, almost flattered by his words, a light laugh comes out of your bright red lips.

''Ahww. That's so kind of you. But you're right, I'm actually extraordinary." as usual, you hide anxieties and insecurities behind a facade of vanity and perfection, and you do it very well.

Homelander smiles, amused by your narcissistic facade, but he's not deceived by your act. He approaches and cups his hand under your chin, tilting your head up.

"Oh, I know you're extraordinary. Power looks good on you, Ophera."

''Coming from you it's for sure something else. But you know what else would look good on me now?'' you say letting go of his hand, sliding away from him, and unbuttoning the zip on the back of your suit.

''Enlighten me. What else would look good on you, doll?''

''A long, relaxing, hot bath to remove all this blood I have on me.''

Homelander watches you with a satisfied expression, his eyes lingering on your body as you walk, clearly appreciating what he sees. He follows you towards the bathroom and leans against the door frame watching you.

''A bath, you say? And may I ask, am I included in this relaxing experience?''

''Oh you, of course...'' you leave the sentence hanging while you take off the knee pads and the protections on your forearms, implying that the answer is yes, but then you conclude it with a teasing tone. ''...of course not.''

Homelander raises his eyebrows, somewhat intrigued and annoyed by your teasing response. His eyes still fixed on your body, he lets out a low chuckle, as he can't hide a hint of desire.

''You're playing a dangerous game, Ophera. Toying with the world’s greatest hero's patience.''

''Me? I'm not doing anything at all...'' you mime a gesture with your right hand. Implying that he doesn't have to watch as you take off your uniform. You turn on the water and it begins to fill the tub, meanwhile remove the top part of your uniform.

''Yeah. Nothing at all.'' his tone is dripping with sarcasm.

After a few minutes of silence, you let your uniform fall on the marble floor and enter into the big floor bathtub, showing a satisfied expression for the warmth of the water, from the window a beautiful sunset in the city can be admired. You turn towards him, and you smile kindly at him with unexpected sweetness, almost appreciating the fact that he has contained himself up until that moment.

''So, won't you come and keep me company?''

Homelander's expression softens for a moment, taking in the sight of you immersed in the water, and the beautiful sunset in the background. He can't help but be momentarily charmed by your unexpected sweetness.

"Well. How could I resist such an alluring invitation?"

''Don't make me wait then...'' you immerse yourself in the water up to your shoulders and move to the corner near the window to admire the view.

Of course he's not usually used to people ordering him around, but in this moment, he actually enjoys it. He approaches the tub, removing his suit and dropping it on the floor next to yours. Then he steps into the water with you.

''Look at the colour of the sky, these shades of red are so beautiful...'' you say remaining deep in thoughts.

The peacefulness of the moment allows him to let his guard down and experience a sense of tranquility that he doesn't often allow himself.

''Almost as beautiful as you are.''

Despite the flattery, you are focused on looking at the sky, he can see your bare back, with still some small signs of the fight you had in the morning and some small splashes of blood that the water will soon wash away.

''I want a dress of this exact color for my next show, I like city sunsets.'' you have a thought that is as frivolous as it is spontaneous.

''Ah, a dress as beautiful as this sunset, huh? We'll find the finest dressmakers in the city work on it. You can have anything you desire, you know that Ophera?''

He's well aware that your desires are probably quite expensive, after all he knows that you're not exactly the type of woman that is satisfied with modesty.

''Everything I want you say uh? Then I would like to no longer be afraid of heights, and to be able to get closer to the colors of this sky... maybe one day.'' what a ridicoulous spontaneous answer from you.

Homelander raises an eyebrow in surprise at your response. He wasn't expecting such a sincere and heartfelt reply from you.

''Of course you can have all that you want, you're a super! Maybe I could take you to the tallest skyscraper in the city, take you to the terrace and show that you have nothing to be afraid of.''

You immediately turn and show a slightly sarcastic expression.

''Oh yes? The last time we were on a skyscraper together, you threatened to throw me into the void and then save me at the last minute to see the adrenaline on my face. I don't know if I want to go on the top of the Tower with you really soon.'' you remind him in a playful tone of the event from a few months earlier, which however had truly terrified you.

''Oh come on, doll, don't go holding a grudge. I was only teasing you. Just a bit of fun.''

''Yeah. Yes of course, and I believe you...'' you reply sarcastically again and then you lean close to him.

You allow him to hug you, you lean your back against his chest, sitting between his legs.

He envelops you in a warm embrace, wrapping his arms around you as you lean against him, your back pressed against his chest. The tension of the battle still present on your body, as well as the blood on your hands and your glittery red painted nails.

He rests his chin on your shoulder, a smile playing on his lips as he looks at your stained hands with curiosity.

As he rests his chin on your shoulder, you put your hand back and caress him, letting yourself go into a moment of kindness, trying to understand how complicated and profound his person is.

Homelander feels a sense of contentment as you place your hand on his cheek and caresses him with genuine tenderness. He hadn't expected such a sweet gesture from you, but it fills him with a sense of unexpected warmth.

He closes his eyes for a moment, relishing the moment of connection, as he allows himself to be vulnerable. Behind the strong and arrogant facade, he has a complex and troubled soul, and your touch seems to reach a part of him that rarely experiences such gentle attention.

''You know, I'm not used to this. Being relaxed. Or allowing myself a moment of peace. But when you touch me like this... "

You continue to gently caress his face, and Homelander remains quiet, finding an unusual comfort in this moment of peace and intimacy. But you're still curious to know how he will end up his sentence.

''When I touch you like this...?''

Homelander's voice still carries a hint of his usual arrogance, but there's a sincerity in his words.

"When you touch me like this... I feel a sense of calm. It's like all my doubts and worries momentarily disappear. It's strange, unusual, but it's not so unwelcome."

You listen intently as Homelander, the usually strong and intimidating Homelander, confesses that your touch brings him a rare sense of tranquility. This honesty surprises you, as you didn't expect him to open up so easilly. It's almost too easy. You continue to gently caress his face, and as you speak in soft tone.

"Well If my touch has that effect on you, then maybe we should make these moments more frequent from now on. Until you don't decide to throw me from a building...'' you laughed.

Homelander's heart rate inexplicably begins to increase as he hears your words of comfort. That's... strange. He had expected you to take advantage of this moment, not to comfort him in such a gentle way.

He reaches up and takes your hand in his, holding it, his expression is filled of dubt and sudden distrust, due to the fear of showing himself vulnerable, his tone is calm but it could change to aggressive at any moment.

''Why are you doing this? Why are you being so... caring, so gentle? You've always been so relentless and fierce. Is there something more to you than you've shown me up until now?''

While he holds your hand, you know that one wrong answer would be enough for him to break your wrist.

The truth is that you don't know, that moment of serenity was created spontaneously, and you, who saw him as a tormented man with an enormous ego, decided to indulge and give him a light caress.

''No, of course not. I'm not hiding anything from you...I did it because I wanted to do it. I wanted to make you relax with me. That's all, If you didn't like it just say so, and I'll stop immediately."

He stares into your eyes, trying to find a hint of deception or manipulation, any evidence that you're trying to play games with him. But he sees nothing but sincerity in your gaze.

Then, in a sudden change of tone, he laughed at your expression, his grip on your hand tightening slightly, but not in anger. It's more of a challenge.

"Oh you cheeky little thing. So you think you can just waltz into my life and flip everything upside down, huh?''

''To be honest, you're the one who started being in my life. Wanting me as a fake girlfriend for you interview and then becoming so... clingy.'' you raise an eyebrow, quite amused, but you hear his tone being playful again, so you can resume your usual manners.

''Clingy, huh? Me? Let's be real now. I wasn't the one who decided to turn this arrangement into some sort of twisted romance. You're the one who keeps throwing these mixed signals out. How am I supposed to act?''

''Mixed signal? Oh you're terrible! As if I had a choice!'' you turn around a little with a mix of ridiculous amazement and disbelief.

He's putting the blame on you, how shameless!

He lets out a hearty laugh, a genuine amusement sparkling in his eyes at your indignation.

''Choice? Ophera, dear, you don't have any choice at all against my decision. But well, no one is forcing you to be here, to sit in this tub with me. You invited me. Don't deny it, you get some kind of kick out of our little games, I'm sure. Maybe you even enjoy being around me. Admit it.''

Still continuing this power play between the two of you, you get up from the water, and he remained seated. You turn a little in his direction, showing a sarcastic expression that has always distinguished you.

''Well, no. And you know what? I'm leaving. My decision. It's final.''

Despite his attempt to maintain a serious demeanor, a hint of excitement sneaks its way across his face. But still, he decides to play along with your little game.

''Hey, doll, wait a minute. Did I say you could leave?”

''Oh,I say so.''

Seeing your fearless expression, Homelander can't help but feel a mix of admiration and annoyance. No one else would dare to challenge him like this, but you are a different case.

''So you think you're in charge now?“

''For sure I am.''

Actually you're not at all, but you're having fun, you feel like you're playing with a lion. He could kill you, yes, but then he would miss your attention.

''I must remind you that just a few hours ago...'' you lower yourself a little, bending down to his level, water falling from your body and your black hair.

''...I killed that man without no effort at all? This makes me very dangerous, don't you think?'' you continue to joke with him, knowing well that that comparison doesn't make much sense.

Definitely, he's not a fan of being challenged, but he can't deny the thrilling feeling of your rebelliousness. He looks up at you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Oh, you're definitely dangerous in more ways than one. But you claim to be a fiery spirit with the power to destroy me? How very interesting.''

Reaching out for you, he grabs your thigh and, remaining seated, he moves closer.

Placing a kiss on your hupper leg his eyes look up at you, glowing red.

''But don't get too cocky. Or I'll have to put you in your place. And believe me, I would do it with great, great, pleasure."

-----

Hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave a feedback, kisses! <3

[inkedaway]

Hot and Cold (Dandadan)

Title: Hot and Cold

Notes: I don't often post fanfiction but man, something about this show grabbed me, so here I go. This is just me having a lot of speculative thoughts about Okarun's Turbo form and me just wanting to put them down on paper. This is a what if scenario - what if it took time for him to calm down instead of returning back to normal immediately?

Pairing: Momo/Okarun romantic undertones, this is fluff

Rating: G

Summary:  But the one thing she did remember from her several few ordeals with him so far in his new form, was the strange attitude shift, and the fact that he curiously, ran cold. Temperature wise. Temperament wise… everything, really, but specifically, to the touch. She clearly recalled the first time she'd gripped his hand, and he'd closed it around hers, and how the surprise had been only just glazing the shallow parts of her brain that oh, he was quite a few degrees colder than he'd been just a few moments ago, and wasn't that interesting? Ao3 link: Here Can also be read under the read more here.

Momo hadn't really realized that she hadn't spent a lot of time observing Okarun's newer form. Every single time he'd used it, she'd had, metaphorically speaking, much bigger fish to fry, and hadn't managed more than the cursory surprise the first time, and just plain acceptance that this was, indeed, just a thing now.

Not once had events slowed down enough for her to actually pause and process what she was seeing, or what he was really doing beyond the surface level. In her defense, it was quite hard to think on her feet, while running away from potentially life and death situations, and also take a moment to appreciate the changes her new friend had gone through. She could not be blamed for it, really, but the one thing she did remember from her several few ordeals with him so far, was the strange attitude shift, and the fact that he curiously, ran cold.

Temperature wise. Temperament wise... everything, really, but specifically, to the touch. She clearly recalled the first time she'd gripped his hand, and he'd closed it around hers, and how the surprise had been only just glazing the shallow parts of her brain that oh, he was quite a few degrees colder than he'd been just a few moments ago, and wasn't that interesting?

Still, like with everything in those situations, it had been swiftly and efficiently shoved to the back part of her brain, in favor of focusing on figuring out how they were both going to get the fuck out of their current situation with at least (most) of their parts still firmly attached.

This wasn't to say she hadn't thought of his form, or the boy in general. She had.

Unfortunately, it had become a common occurrence for her thoughts to stray to him throughout the day. Sometimes, she wouldn't even begin the moment by thinking about him, and then her train of thought would veer right and into a mountain side, as she got entirely distracted by some stray notion, landing back on Okarun.

Despite this, she hadn't really given that form... much thought outside the obvious. Which was, perhaps, why she was so surprised when the door to exit the school roof opened, and rather than the hunched over, geek boy she'd been expecting to join her for lunch, it was the other form that practically dragged itself over.

He looked tired.

But then, he always looked tired like this, and for a moment, she remain quiet as the boy walked over and then, just... allowed himself to flop on the ground near her feet, like a marionette whose strings had been cut, boneless, lifeless, "What happened to you, anyways?" she asked between bites of food as she angled her head to look down at him, "What's with all... this?" she gestured vaguely at him, from head to toe, waving the food she'd been holding on one hand at him.

For a moment, all she got was a grunt, or perhaps a sigh, it was hard to tell like this. His position remain flopped on the ground, both eyes having closed, before one opened and settled on her. Red, unblinking and strangely reminding her of a large cat, "Got mad," this explained absolutely nothing to her, and must have been obvious from the way she stared at him, because he let out a long, soul wrenching sigh as he closed his one eye again, "Can't change. No idea why. Not that it matters."

Granted, he wasn't entirely wrong; most students couldn't see the difference like she could. There was little danger in him being in that form at the current moment in time, "Uh...huh," she said as she ate, "You still mad?"

She got no response this time, just a small flick of a large hand that she interpreted as a vague negative, but otherwise he remain stretched on the floor, near her legs.

It was then the notion came to her; he reminded her of a sunning lion, too lazy to move in the heat of the day, but still dangerous enough that he could spring into action at any given moment, "Cool," another bite of food and soon enough, her sandwich was finished, and Momo scrunched the paper it'd come in within her hands, "So, just a thought but... every time to use your powers, you tend to go back to normal. That likely hasn't changed. Give it a go maybe?"

A whine exited his mouth, or... his mask, without it moving. Heavy, mournful, like she'd just asked him to give up his first born or something equally ridiculous, "I don't wanna move, Momo... I don't wanna do anything, just leave me here."

"For the love of-" Momo rolled her eyes and swiftly decided this just would not do, "Get up. C'mon, up, up, up!" her hand reached out and began to move him, pushing his shoulder several times, to no avail, "If we tire you out, you'll stop this downer bs thing you got going."

Despite her best efforts, the most she got out of him was another small sound, the one eye reopening to fix back on her, "Nooo... what if I need to use those full bursts later? I ain't gonna do that," and, well, he did have a point, not that she wanted to concede that to him. As such she continue shoving on his shoulder, until one of his hands shot out, lightning fast, grabbed her arm, destabilized her, and forced her to crash half on top of him awkwardly.

"Okarun!!" her first reaction was mild panic, swiftly followed by severe annoyance as she hovered over him. He was still looking at her, almost languidly, from that one open eye. And perhaps Momo had misrepresented him; less of a lion, more of an overgrown, lazy dog, flopped over, refusing to move. She lifted a hand, and gave his shoulder one last smack before she righted herself back so she was sitting beside him once more, instead of partially over him. A huff of breath escaped her lips before she looked at him out the corner of an eye, "Were you aware you run cold in this form?"

"Is that why you won't lay down with me, Momo?"

There was zero innuendo in the question, no sort of implication to the words, just curiosity, and perhaps, melancholy there. She turned her head fully to watch him then, "No, you idiot, of course not," rather than actually responding to his question and following that very dangerous train of thought to its inevitable conclusion, instead she frowned down at him, "You're cold, but not uncomfortable. Also, why do you only call me Momo while you're like this, anyways?"

Both his eyes opened then, and strangely enough did a full on blink, "Momo is Momo," as if this were any sort of explanation. When all the response he got out of her was a clearly confused look, he apparently gave up explaining himself and closed his eyes again, "I'm tired..."

"You've literally done nothing today, it's noon, Okarun. You can not be tired," The small huff of sound he made, like an upset, annoyed dog seemed to contradict her, but since he didn't really use his words, Momo let out a sigh and rolled her eyes at him, "You plan on returning to class like that?" another sound, this one sad almost melancholic, like he couldn't be arsed to even begin thinking about class at the current moment, nor any moment in the near future.

Lifting her phone out of her pocket, she looked at the time; there was a bit more than half hour before they'd have to leave, which gave them, hopefully, enough time to fix their current predicament, though Momo guessed it couldn't be that bad. Worst case he'd just flop on his desk and no one would pay him any mind.

Given her previous thoughts, she turned her head and simply watched him for a while, taking note of the way his spiritual energy merged with his hair and his clothes, specifically, making both look almost engulfed in flames. From her own experience when she'd held onto him, neither hair nor clothes were heated whatsoever, though then again, she hadn't really paid it that much mind, what with the killer crab chasing them at the time.

Before she even knew what she was doing, her hand had lifted and reached out towards his hair, curiosity taking her. Her own movement didn't register until he apparently sensed the hand and both eyes opened to settle on it, before they slowly moved to fix on her own, languid and unblinking, but a clear question there, "Oh, sorry, just..." there was zero judgement in his gaze, if anything, a vague curiosity there, "Your hair," his expression did not change, not even an eyebrow twitch, though he did offer her a very slow, once again, almost feline like blink, and given he did absolutely nothing to stop her, she moved her hand in the direction of his hair.

Momo wasn't someone that kept herself from doing or saying the things she wanted to often, and besides, she was more than well aware that had he wanted no contact, she would have never even been able to get close to him. He may have been still at the present moment, but he'd demonstrated twice already that he was more than cognizant of the world around him, "It looks like fire, Okarun. I was wondering why it also runs cold, is all. Do you mind?" her hand had stopped only a few scant inches away from his strands, and she waited for him to make a noncommittal sound before she lowered it into the white mass, sweeping her fingers like they were a brush.

She watched him close his eyes against her ministrations, and once again, the animal like comparison returned in her mind, "C'mere," she said after a few moments, and slowly moved herself and him, fully aware that the only reason she was managing to move him, was because he was allowing it. He remain mostly dead weight but he did nothing more than make a vaguely whine like sound at losing contact with her hand in his hair.

"Momoooooooo..."

She grabbed at his shoulders and he offered no resistance to her when she pulled his head on her lap, "Maybe if you fall asleep, you'll change back," no response other than a small huff, but his eyes didn't close again until one hand returned to sink in his hair, moving carefully through it. It felt, to the touch, much like normal hair would, and if she closed her eyes, and blocked out his looks, she was certain she would not have noticed the difference.

Idly, it made her wonder if she would ever manage to get the boy to lay down like this while not in this form, and would the texture of his hair be any different. She focused her attention on the phone she had clutched in her free hand, and as she petted him, her mind drifted, her thoughts discombobulated while she scrolled through her phone. On instinct, she knew it was still a while before the bell rung and they'd be forced to move anyways.

Her attention only returned back to him when she heard a soft snuffle like sound, her eyes tracking down to see her hand now moving through black, unruly hair, which interestingly enough, did indeed feel the same, the boy having actually managed to fall into a light sleep in place, his form having returned to normal.

Less of a dangerous predator in this form, more of a lap dog, cute and vulnerable, she thought, but her hand did not stop its movement.

She still had five or ten minutes left after all.

[cobrabobra]

"Cold"

Carl Grimes x fem!reader, praising, vaginal fingering

I'm still new to this, so I apologize if it's monotone. Also English is not my first language so there might be mistakes.

"You're dead!" Carl looked at (Y/N) wide eyed, snow covering his face as he stood surprised. He bend down to take the biggest scoop of snow and throw it at his girlfriend. Oh, it was war now.

It was winter in Alexandria, a solid few inches of snow covered the ground, cold air tickled their lungs as they ran around the hole camp, playing in snow. But now playtime was over, it was time for some serious fighting.

(Y/N) only laughed cutely, shrugging, looking straight into Grimes' blue eyes, challenging him and acting innocent at the same time.

Her body moved, clearly readying itself to escape, but the boy was faster, tackling her to the ground, covering them in layers of fluffy, fresh snow.

"Gotcha" he smirked proudly as if he just tamed a wild beast, not grounded a teenage girl. "Can't escape now, sunshine" their breaths mixed, that's how close they were, their noses practically rubbing against each other, their hips pressed together separated with just a thin layer of their soaked clothes.

That's when he noticed she was shivering, her teeth clacking from the cold. It wasn't unexpected, they didn't have clothes that were designed for this kind of weather and they were rolling around in snow for hours, yet Carl couldn't help but feel concerned.

"Gosh, you're freezing" he picked her up, wrapping her with his hands, trying to warm her up a bit, but obviously that didn't help much. "We're going back" Grimes decided, taking her hand into his, their fingers were stiff, they barely had any feeling in them.

The walk to Carl's home was longer than they both expected, exhaustion suddenly hit them, cold piercing through their clothes, snow under their feet slowing them down significantly. When they finally got there the boy was already dreaming of a warm bath or drinking a hot cocoa sitting in front of a fireplace.

They left their shoes on a towel that Rick put up earlier and tried calling for him, but no one responded.

"Must be at Carol's" Carl hummed and stepped further inside. He took his coat off and threw it on the couch. "You want something hot to drink? Or we can take a shower?" He turned to face her, awaiting her decision.

"Shower" she managed to say, her jaw clenched, still bit warmed up yet.

"Let's get you out of these clothes" he stepped towards her, his hands on her sides, pulling her sweater up, revealing her smoth belly and her silky breasts covered with a bra.

Normally, she'd feel embarrassed, they've done stuff like this many times and she always blushed like crazy, something about Carl made it feel like it was still a new feeling. This time though, this wasn't sexual, he was just taking care of her, helping her and it made her heart flutter and filled her chest with warmth but it was the different kind.

Her pants fell down, belt buckle cliking as it hit the floor, leaving her in just her underwear. He shivered again, goosebumps covering her body, she tried to shield herself from the cold. Carl noticed that and quickly dragged her to the bathroom.

The titles were as cold as ice, making her toes curl at the unpleasant sensation. She stood there, observing her boyfriend's movement, he undressed quickly, too quickly for her. Yes, she was freezing but who wouldn't appreciate a little show?

(Y/N) hissed when her cold fingers touched her back in an attempt to undo her bra. Although it took longer than usual, it landed in the basket, just like Carl's garments moments ago. Same thing with her underwear, some almost painful touches, shutting her eyes at the feeling of clothes sticking to her skin.

"Get in" he said, his boxers long gone, curled up with the rest of their clothes. He took a minute to take in the view of her naked body, tracing her curves with his eyes, swallowing hard at the sight of her vulnerable state.

Piping hot, almost boiling water, covered their bodies as they stood in each other's embrace, letting their muscles relax, which wasn't easy because of the sensation of (Y/N)'s hard nipples pressed into Grimes' chest, their hips rubbing against each other with every little movement.

Little satisfied moans coming from the girls mouth, weren't helping either, they went straight to his dick, that was already teasing her sensitive folds.

"Feeling good, baby?" He chuckled, moving his hand to grab her neck, gently massaging the soft flesh underneath. This made his head fuzzy, this brief interaction, one like many others, made him realise once again how much he loved her.

"Yeah" her voice was breathy, her head tilted slightly back, clearly enjoying herself. She felt a familiar feeling slowly building up in her abdomen.

Carl seemed to notice that, because his fingers slided down her stomach, looking straight into her eyes as he started to tease her clit.

"Can't tell if it's the water or are you that wet already" he muttered into her neck, placing delicate kisses all over.

"Mm" she sighed, bitting her lip lightly. "Both"

"Good" he whispered straight into her ear, his voice unusually deep and raspy, like always when he got aroused. "You're so good for me"

She moaned uncontrollably at the praise, nodding her head a little, trying to show she indeed trying to be the best for him.

"My good girl, so wet for me" he kissed her jaw, slowly going down, towards her breasts. He took her nipple into his mouth and sucked it deliciously, trying to distract her form the feeling of his first finger sliding in her tight hole.

His movements started off slow, teasing, trying to get her as desperate as humanly possible. All it took was bending his finger a little for her to start rutting her hips against his hand.

He bit her nipple, delicate yet still inflicting a little bit of this delicious pain that got her weak in her knees.

"You're so pretty. My pretty girl, you're doing so good" he added another finger which got another whimper out of her, her thighs trembled, she leaned back again the shower wall to prop herself.

Wet strands of hair her stuck to her face, water dripping from her chin, down at her collar bones, continuing to slide across her body, to finally disappear between her legs, where Carl's fingers were stretching her pussy.

Carl's dick stood up gracefully, hurting like hell without attention it needed, but it didn't matter, now making (Y/N) come was all that counted.

"I'm close" her voice was weak and quiet. She tried to restrain herself from making too much noise, the bathroom walls carried sounds like the newest Bluetooth speaker.

"Yeah? You're gonna cum for me? Cum in my first fingers?" He teased, his thumb circling her clit as his fingers practically pounded her poor, sensitive cunt. "Be good and cum for me"

Her toes curled again, this time bit from the cold but the feeling of an approaching orgasm. Grimes' lips muffled her moan, wet tounge sliding in, exploring her mouth as she felt her body tensing up, reading itself for the finish.

His fingers abused that spot inside her that made her stomach flutter, that lit fireworks in her abdomen.

Metalic taste of blood filled their mouths, coming from Carl's lip that she took liberty to bite as she came. Pure pleasure flooded her mind as she rode her orgasm, fucked herself on his fingers.

"You're not cold anymore, are you?"

[chishiyae]

— HIS LOVE FOR YOU ! [𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜] e42! miles morales.

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ a ten headcannon summary on what it’s like being the prowlers girlfriend. a man whose demeanor is cold but heart is warm.

a/n. — pretty sure it’s been…what? five months since i’ve last been on here? damn that was a long time ago, but i’m back and after restarting my layout and things, i’m writing 🤍

E42!MILES, will never tell you how he feels about emotional matters in your relationship. and by this, i mean that if you were to lay on his chest one day knowing he's had a rough day, instead of saying thank you or how much he loves you (or anything like that), he'll massage your back and close his eyes in contentment. he's been more reclusive to himself than ever since he lost his dad. and, as much as he loves and appreciates you, it's difficult for him to be so honest. so, he does that slowly…but even then, he holds a few things back. because he can never just show you all of his love.

when it comes to “i love you”, he takes that phrase very seriously. he believes it’s more than just a catchphrase and hence only says it when the situation really calls for it. that way you feel the meaning. like when he's leaving to do his duties as prowler, not knowing if he'll return. there have been a few occasions where he’s said it when the situation "didn't call for it" — by few, I mean less than five. although, as the relationship progresses, he says it more frequently than he normally would.

don't let him not saying it all the time mislead you for rejection. he fills that hole with a plethora of reassurances ranging from presents to nicknames. looking at "ma," "mamas," "baby," and "princesa," and you'll know he's serious when he uses your real name.

in arguments, he has a small tendency to forget that you have feelings. not to the point that you wanna end the relationship, but enough that you need to ignore him for a day because if you tried more than a day, he wouldn't be able to handle it anymore. you each have a day to chill out and that's all. he values communication. always has been — even before his father died — but now that he's allowing another person into his life, his priorities are shifting and you’re definitely in his list of people to cherish and protect. so he does everything he can to talk things out and apologize. arguments don’t happen often.

he’s not possessive, but rather protective. I mean, can you blame him with this fucked up city? every time you two go out, it’s either holding hands or him putting an arm over your shoulder so no one messes with you. if you’d ask him if a revealing outfit you're wearing is okay, he'd answer "doesn't matter, I can fight." for sure.

for your safety, he never includes you in prowler-related activities, talks, or general topics, but of course he told you about him being the prowler. he told you the instant he realized he loved you. and only tells you he loves you after you’ve accepted that reality. disregarding his uncle's advice not to tell you anything. communication is key right? and that’s a big part of his life.

just like physical touch. he loves kissing you. your forehead and neck especially. passionate kisses are his favorite, slow and sweet. his kisses always aimed at determining what you ate or placed to your lips prior so he could get a taste and guess. regardless of how horrible or delicious it tastes because it's a tiny game he made. did that have anything to do with wanting to kiss you longer? yeah. but what did the first headcannon have to say about his emotions? plus, he liked it after the first time he tried it, and now it’s his favorite portion of any day.

meeting his mom would almost certainly be by coincidence. he wouldn't have planned for you to meet her for at least three months, so he knows it's serious, but she’d meet you sooner. you'd walk by her house and she'd say something like, "i've seen you around miles before," knowing he doesn't let many people in. and is curious about you. she'll naturally ask you as many questions as she can before miles interferes, but even if she likes you, don't address her by her first name.

it doesn't matter when, but whenever your finger is in his way? he’s gonna bite it. there’s no hesitation. as well as engaging in play fights with you whenever possible.

and last but certainly not least, encourages you to do things he’s never done. no elaboration. just gonna let you think on that one.

© 2023, CHISHIYAE

[vincentvalenfine]

forget-me-not

Cloud understands better than anyone what it's like to forget about the important things.

"So you're telling me you forgot Marlene's birthday is tomorrow?"

All it takes is that little note of disbelief, the look that says 'you were already told a dozen times', and everything about you becomes brittle. Even your smile, accepting of the teasing up until now, feels liable to shatter away at a moment’s notice.

Luckily Yuffie isn't that observant. She takes your excuse that you've been tired and busy with WRO work as it is, then playfully suggests you'd better hurry and go pick up something nice for the kid before the ninja is finally distracted by Tifa calling her over from across the bar. It's still not safe to fall apart yet, and Tifa will question if you leave before your food even comes out, so all you can do now is stare morosely into your drink, stirring the straw about slowly.

"You look beat."

You look up at Cloud's voice, blinking a few times as he sets your meal down in front of you - and then sits down across from you. Normally he would wander off to check on other bar patrons, begrudgingly accepting his side gig here on the days where there's no deliveries to be made. But tonight's a slow one, and the only people around are his friends, so you're graced with his company for once.

Well, graced isn't the word you'd pick while trying to stave off your feelings.

You give him just a nod and poke at your food with disinterest, appetite vanished under the weight of your emotions trying to crawl out your throat and throw themselves on the table. That would be ugly, and you're pretty sure Cloud wouldn't appreciate it. He's never been big on talking about feelings.

But it seems like he's going to try for once, clearing his throat quietly. "You alright? What'd Yuffie say this time."

Not a question, but statement of fact - you had to admit the assumption made sense when the ninja has a bit of a motor mouth at the best of times. It makes you clench your teeth a little, finding brief distraction in sipping at your drink before you force yourself to answer him.

"She reminded me about Marlene's birthday. I forgot... again." You can't help the bitterness that seeps into your voice, staring down at your food that you'd normally be digging into by now. Instead, the smell of it makes your stomach twist.

It takes a moment before Cloud comes up with a response. "I forget stuff too, all the time. I get it."

"At least people are sympathetic to your reason," you snap without meaning to, glancing at him just long enough to spot the surprise in his mako tinted eyes before you abruptly stand, empty enough gil from your pocket to cover your meal, and head for the door quickly. You need some space, and privacy to lose your cool in peace.

"What was that about, Cloud?" You hear Tifa's voice behind you before the door closes, and don't bother giving anyone a chance to come after you as you practically race back to your apartment.

-

It's been... maybe an hour? Two hours? Your grasp on time is already bad enough without being caught in the throes of self-loathing and misery. The wallowing is interrupted by a knock on the door though, and you barely find the energy in you to shuffle over, still draped in your softest blanket as you check through the peephole.

There's Cloud, a to-go box in one hand and phone in the other as if he's waiting to get a message. Tifa's probably waiting for him to come back you realize, and a double pang of guilt crushes your heart in your chest. Both for snapping at him before when he was just trying to connect, and now for keeping him away from a nice, relaxing evening with his friends that are otherwise so busy most of the time. By the day after tomorrow most of them will disperse to their usual haunts until the next birthday rolls around. You're keeping him from the people who care about him the most.

"Go away," you croak, knowing he'll hear you through the door. To his credit he barely even reacts, just sets his thumb to texting before closing his phone up and tucking it away.

"Tifa wanted you to get your food. She's gonna yell at both of us if I just leave it here."

That much is likely true, prompting you to heave a defeated sigh - scoldings from Tifa are the worst, since she always knows just the right words to make you promise to do better even when your own brain makes you into a liar later. Forgotten promises and bad habits, the perfect storm to get lectured (even if it's with friendly intent) on the regular. She makes you feel like a kid again, and that stings too.

Finally you groan and unlock the door slowly, cracking it open just enough to stick your arm out while peeking with one reddened, puffy eye.

"She wants a picture of it in your fridge."

That prompts a louder groan, and Cloud just shrugs, snorting softly. You retract your arm back into the soothing warmth of your blanket, then just as slowly open the door further for him, holding it in front of yourself like a shield. Hopefully he'll just take care of this quickly and you'll be out of each other's ways in just a minute...

His footsteps on the floor are measured, and you listen quietly to the sound of your fridge opening, the belated realization of all the things you've forgotten in there making you cringe just a moment later. Now Tifa will get onto you for food waste too, shit. You wish you could retreat into your own body like a turtle to escape the upcoming scolding. She means well... but it's just another thing to stress about now.

The doorknob suddenly slips from your grasp, leaving you staring blankly with surprise at Cloud. He takes in your rumpled appearance without a twitch in his expression, a stoicism to be envious of at times. You almost wish he'd just express his disappointment already and be done with it, but instead... his hand ends up on your head, with an attempt at reassurance as he lightly brushes his hand from front to back. You go stock still in response, trying to figure out how to respond when he speaks.

"We... I just. Wanted to make sure you're alright."

For all his awkwardness, his sincerity still shines through and stabs you right in the heart. Your head droops, trying to hide the expressions flashing across it, and find yourself surprised again when his hands guide you into a light hug. He's warm, smelling like the savory fragrances of the bar kitchen and plain soap. Despite yourself, you end up clinging to him with fresh tears welling up to spill onto his shirt. His strength makes it easy for him to handle most of your weight leaning against him as he closes the door and then guides you to the couch to sit.

"It's okay," he mumbles. He's trying his hardest to be comforting, rubbing his hand on your back in slow, steady circles while you cry your eyes out on his shoulder.

When the tears finally die off again you pull back from him, though his hands catch on your shoulders in a request for you to remain close that surprises you again, but makes you settle in place and shake your head.

"It's not. I'm always going to keep forgetting things, even the important stuff, and I - don't even have the excuse of being mako-addled. It's just my stupid, broken brain."

"You're not broken."

You frown at Cloud, and he frowns right back.

"I mean it. You're just a person like anyone else, not a piece of machinery. Some of us just have shit memory too."

Now you give a disbelieving snort. His expression grows disgruntled, as if he's trying to find a way around your stubbornness, and finally he puts his hand on your head again, giving it a light ruffling motion. "Knock it off, I'm trying to make you feel better."

"You gonna just tell me to feel better next?" you retort, watching him grasp for a response again before he huffs and shakes his head.

"You don't need a reason for why your head works the way it does. We're your friends. It's okay."

You get the feeling Tifa may have said something identical to him before, and your heart writhes in your chest with discomfort. Though you make a brief attempt to pull away again, his grip remains firm; you duck your head instead, listening to an exasperated sigh leave him. Yeah, you'd be frustrated dealing with you too.

He suddenly drags you into another hug, and this time his arms are just tight enough around you to draw an undignified yelp from you at first. Against your better judgement you end up relaxing into him after a few seconds, heaving a frustrated sigh of your own. Why is he being so persistent? He'll give up eventually and it'll hurt less if he does it sooner rather than later.

"We... I care about you. Okay? It's okay to forget things." His voice is quiet, comforting even though you'd rather he not be. "I forgot Tifa's birthday. She doesn’t hate me for it."

You hate that you recognize the unspoken words behind that, the frustration with himself that makes your heart clench in empathy. You end up giving him a light squeeze around his shoulders, trying not to let his embrace comfort you in return and failing. At least someone understands what it's like to forget anything at the drop of a hat, understands the frustration and hurt, the disappointment of others and how they always edge closer to giving up on the mess that can't even remember the produce in the fridge.

You feel tears welling up again but blink them back fiercely this time, pulling back just a little and realizing his eyes are a bit watery as well now. You're both messes.

"Don't let me drag you down with me now," you joke weakly, "once you start crying it's all over."

Cloud gives a faint huff of amusement, shaking his head slightly before giving your head a pat and letting go to reach for the TV remote on your coffee table. The move makes you raise your brows, but he shrugs it off.

"I could use a break from the bar. You need to get out of your head for a while. We're gonna watch a movie."

His look is stubborn again, so you give a resigned sigh and lean back into the couch, pulling your blanket tight around you and making no complaint when his arm gently settles on your shoulders to draw you against his side. Maybe it won't be so bad to let him linger - he understands better than anyone else in the group.

And being understood... feels good. But you won't tell him that.

[noyzinerd]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @eevylynn! Thanks so much for the tag! I can't stress how not-often I get to participate in these things, so it's very appreciated 😭. From my fic If. A story about if Derek was Scott's sidekick, best friend and Stiles was the mysterious supernatural that came to town. I decided to finally post from something other than Pseudology for once😅. Enjoy

The sudden disappearance of the bite set off so many alarms in Derek's head, it was unreal. For a second, he honestly thought that maybe Scott had made up the animal attack all together. But then, that wouldn't explain why he didn't need his inhaler anymore.

This was just too weird.

He was about to holster his gun to get ready for his shift when the feeling of being watched struck him urgently like hands suddenly slamming down on piano keys. Before he could fully turn with his gun raised, nimble fingers easily flourished over the piece, rendering it useless on the floor in no less than a second, and pinning his wrist with enough power to force him back against the wall behind him. Another hand quickly clamped over his mouth.

"You say one word, and I'm gonna break your jaw, comprende?"

Derek struggled against the boy with his free hand but found to his surprise that even with having 100 pounds over the kid, there was no moving him. Stiles didn't even pretend like the shoving was doing anything other than annoying him. It was as if Derek's body was being held in place by a thin piece of rebar. There was an immovable strength in the other that just didn't match the body that held it.

"Now, I'm going to let you go. If I hear you yelling for anyone, I'm gonna start snapping bones." There was a precautionary squeeze to his wrist that bordered on the edge of painful.

Despite the rather redundant threat to his person (he had already threatened to break his jaw, everything else was just excessive), Derek gave a slow nod.

Cautiously, the hand over his mouth receded along with the hand on his wrist. Stiles was respectful enough to take a half step back to grant Derek room to move.

With a rub at his wrist, he stared back at the anomaly in his room.

"Just what are you?"

A smirk played on Stiles' lips. "If I were you, I'd be more concerned about whatever your friend was."

Derek paused at that. Did Stiles know what was going on with Scott? How could he possibly know? Even Scott didn't know what was going on with himself.

"What do you mean? Do you know what's happening with Scott?"

The smirk curled into a devilish grin. "Oh, buddy, you have no idea."

From one moment to the next where there once stood a skinny, average looking teenager, suddenly sprouted a flaming—he had no other word for it—aura that engulfed Stiles' entire body and stretched out to lick all the way from the edge of his bed to his desk. It startled a shout from Derek, causing him to scramble backwards and thudding against the wall he had forgotten was already at his back. The boy's now clawed hand flew out against his mouth again. "Man, the concept of being quiet really doesn't register to you, does it?"

Derek was starting to panic. He was seriously staring wide-eyed at a fiery thing that was talking to him like it was no big deal that he was on fire. Up close, he suddenly noticed bright yellow eyes and sharp fangs peeking from his furled lips. He was quick to stifle himself, this time around, when Stiles pulled away. "Wha-? How-?"

"Yeah, got your attention, now, don't I? See, normally I wouldn't reveal myself so willy-nilly like this. In fact, my dad is probably going to absolutely lose his mind if he ever finds out about this, but here's the thing. We—and I mean you and I—we are on a bit of a time crunch. I don't have time to deal with 'oh, you're crazy', 'werewolves aren't real, they're just make-believe' bullshit."

Derek's brows furrowed incredulously. "Wait, are you telling me Scott's a werewolf?"

"Whoops. Cat's outta the bag, now...or I guess the wolf's outta the bag." Stiles snickered at his own terrible joke. "And, hey, don't you point those sassy eyebrows at me. I am on fire. You cannot seriously think I'm joking after taking in all of this." The boy's hand gestured at his general aura and body.

"Okay, okay! I believe you! Can you please just turn it off?" That was a lie. Even as he said the words and despite evidence of the supernatural screaming at his face, Derek still found it hard to believe.

Stiles frowned but still dissipated what Derek now realized was the wavered image of what looked to be something with a long muzzle, like some sort of wolf or fox. "Okay, I'm going to pretend that I didn't just hear you lie to my face. I don't have time to try and convince you. Instead, what I'm going to need you to do is stop your buddy, Scott, from playing the big game coming up. If he wolfs out, it's gonna expose him—and ergo me—to people that neither of us need to be exposed to. Understand? Your friend's life is in danger."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I'm tagging all of my sterek muties, because I'm so terrible at tagging etiquette and never know who to tag 😰. I know some of you have already been tagged, but I forget who, and I don't know how many of you are writers or are even active anymore, so feel free to ignore 😅. Low pressure tags: @haleshomeforthederanged, @sterekyrround, @dear-massacre, @renmackree,

@fujiyolkart, @bee--cat, @ellsgowrite, @cursedtruth,

@princecharmingwinks, @grimmypuff, @gynnnicsworld, @raisesomehale