#i want the shame to eat him alive i want him to feel so bad

[brucie-baby]

i love bruce being a complete weirdo with absolutely no respect for boundaries. i want him putting trackers on every person he has ever felt even one emotion for. i want him breaking into the apartments of the people he loves and looking through their bank accounts and mapping out their daily routines. i want him to know intimate details about his friends that he has never been told, and for him to slip the solutions to their problems into conversation in a way that leaves the recipient wondering if it's a coincidence or if he knows (he always knows). i want him to feel so fucking guilty about being a genuine stalker but also completely unable to stop. and i want his loved ones to look out their window every now and then, see bruce crouched on the rooftop across from them, clearly having followed them home, and they just wave, sigh, and shut the blinds.

[b1ravenclaw]

Azriel has a mate and when he starts spending time with Elain. She becomes distant.

She sees the almost kiss with Rhys and she leaves and Rhys doesn’t say anything for her.

She eventually comes back and is in “fuck him. I’m a bad bitch” era and Azriel has to grovel hard cause she isn’t taking any shit.

You can end it however you want.

Relief

note: I hope I did it justice :)

warnings: unedited, angst

The almost kiss was just the cherry on top of the fucking cake. 

It started slow, of course, but it went at a slow steady pace. Always there to nag at my insides, something so silly and small I could not complain, really. So what if he was befriending the High Lady’s sister, it was expected she made some friends considering her abrupt start at fae life. What was not expected was Azriel would altogether stop making time for you. His mate. His fucking mate.

The lingering glances he once shared with you were now hers, his attention once solely yours was now solely hers. And you did not want to believe, when you clinged to hope on those cold nights alone that he may only be distracted because of his harsh work. You supposed he avoided your touch because his insecurities of not being enough may have crawled and found its way inside him again. 

But, alas, it was not it. It was just her. Fucking Elain, and she was not to blame. He was. How could he neglect his mate? His other half. How could he be so vile and cruel, not only to you, but to himself as well. He did not expect you to forgive him, did he? Or to never find out? 

You did not know what was worse. That, until you saw the look on Rhysand’s face, when his violet eyes left anger daggers at Azriel, to you they only emanated pity. Pure pathetic pity. His mouth opened and closed a few times, the High Lord of Night at a loss of words, congratu-fucking-lations Azriel. 

The walk to your room was shameful, glamouring yourself as to not be seen by no one, not wanting to wait for him, to hear what Rhys had in store for him. You just wanted to go away, your things were quick to be packed, and Kallias and Vivienne were not alarmed to see you at their palace doors unannounced. However they were alarmed by the sad glimmer in your eyes, tears refusing to be dropped and, instead, freezing. Your lashes starting to become white with the cold.

“Oh Dear.” Was all Vivienne, your cousin, said. Your only family member alive. The family you would have now that Azriel fucked everything up. Your hopes of having a family crushed right before you, and you let it happen. Had you fighted him would it have changed anything? Would his interest in Elain have died down or grown further more? You felt your heart growing colder. Vivienne had asked if you wanted company sleeping tonight, but you refused. You did not want her to see how much you could cry about it, and when you thought it was over you felt it. Over the bond you felt it, his feelings, and it wasn’t remorse, it wasn’t sadness or even anger. He felt nothing, almost as if he was feeling contemptment. As if he was fucking relieved you left. 

You cried until sunrise, shame sent you to sleep and hunger woke you up the next morning.

Your stomach was empty and growling, and you were in desperate need of a shower. But the first thing you did that morning was neither bathe or eat. You looked in the mirror at your disheveled image, at your red puffy eyes you focused on your feeling of emptiness and hopelessness and sent that perfectly destroyed image down the golden thread connecting you to the winged male, and closed it. You looked your heart and mind at seven keys, never to be opened again, never to be toyed with. 

That morning after bathing and brushing your long hair you cut it at shoulder length, you found your best dress, one that had a high detailed neckline and went past your feet. 

“Y/n.” Said Kallias, surprised, “Good morrow.”

“Good morrow, my lord.” You said with a courtesy. “My lady.”

“Y/n, your hair… it’s different.”

“And so am I, I thought it would be fitting. Don’t you?”

“Of course.”  Her voice was soft, as if she was scared if she spoke too strongly you would break. But you could not be broken, not anymore. 

“I was…”

“You don’t need to say what happened if you do not wish to y/n, you are always welcome at our home. Your home.” Kallias said, ever the High Lord. 

“Thank you, Kallias. But I wish to, just to clear things up. As I suppose they will want to contact me.”

“Rhysand may have sent word, as well as your mate.”

“I would appreciate it if you called him by his name, as he is no longer my mate.” They both inhaled sharply, the food at the table left untouched. “I supposed I saw it coming, he… Well, he took interest in another female. It has been quite sometime. The final straw was, well, his lack of respect for me and self control.” 

“Oh, y/n.” Vivienne was at my side, but it was Kallias voice that made my heart warm.

“Do you want me to end him?”

“As much as I would appreciate it, I know it would not be good, politically speaking.” 

“We can find our way around it.” “I’m sure you can. But… part of me wants him to live with it, see if he will suffer even if it’s a little.” 

“Your call, Vivienne’ family is my family. You know it.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

It was a week later the day you left, that Rhysand’s letter arrived. It was sealed and it smelled of the home you once cared for, one you did not wish to be in anymore. 

Dear y/n, 

I can not begin to imagine how you are feeling, I am writing to you to make sure you are safe  and well, as well as one can be in your situation. Kallias sent word you are with him and Vivienne, but alas please tell me if you need anything I can help with.  

We all miss you dearly, unfortunately word got out faster than  I could contain, we are all mad at him, and I forbade him to contact you. 

He would like to speak to you, but you owe him nothing. 

I hope to see you soon.

Your dear friend, High Lord of Night, Rhysand.

You answered the letter a few days later, letting him know Azriel was not to contact you, or else he would die. You didn’t think they believed it, you could never kill Azriel, even now. It was a month after that you saw Feyre and Rhysand, and how you missed them. All of them, they were your family once too and as if sensing your insecurity Feyre whispered in your ear as she left that you were still family, and as much as you would like to believe it, you knew they  would never turn on Azriel. 

Eight months later you felt strong enough to return to the night court, Vivienne and Kallias held you as much as possible, but when you were strongly inclined to retrieve the rest of your belongings yourself they hugged you goodbye. And when the inevitable happened, when you crossed his path despite Rhysand telling you he made sure Azriel had left before you arrived. When you looked into his almond eyes, that once gave you immense joy, you felt nothing, almost contempt. You felt relieved, that he could not affect you anymore, would not affect you anymore.

“My love…” “Azriel, it’s Y/n to you. Or Winter Court emissary.” 

“Y/n, please, don’t do this, let’s talk.”

“I will do as I please, Spymaster. Just like you did all those months ago.”

“I made a mistake.”

“And I hope it was worth, I hope you at least got to fuck her.”

“I didn’t. I lo-”

“Oh, that’s a shame. So you did really throw it all away, over what? A silly kiss? It truly is pathetic, Azriel.”

“Y/n, I should never have allowed myself to be lured away from my mate, I see that now.” “Lured away?” You scoffed, you could hear heavy footsteps approaching the room, probably Cassian’s. But you did not care for it. “Is that what you call it? Did she poison you?” “No?”

“Did she give you a love potion?”

“No, she didn’t.” “Did she enchant you with a spell?”

“No, and it does not matter, I shouldn’t-” “Then you were not lured Spymaster, maybe by your own lust and desire, but it was nothing you were physically weak against. She did not force you. You chose to betray me the moment you chose to spend time with her over me. “

“And I am so sorry.” His voice was broken, but you couldn't care less. You wished for him to hurt. “As you should be, and I hope Elain ends up being happier with Lucien than I ever was with you.” And as he tried to call you, tried to tug at the bond you once cherished with all your heart, it was much too easy to drown it all out, to distract yourself catching up with his family, your friends. You slept peacefully, the weight lifted off of your shoulders. The next morning it was much easier to put on the Winter Court colors and behold the tasks ahead of you, to serve your new High Lord. Your new court.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Frank castle prompt! Him and reader are apartment neighbors who share a thin wall and he can hear her string of bad one night stands through it, and it pisses him off. He thinks reader deserves better and decides to show her 🫣

oh that man would treat you right

smut warning!!

“What are you doing here, Frank?”

You’re barely dressed, your disappointing one night stand having left mere minutes ago. Your shirt barely covers your thighs, and Frank can’t help but run his eyes up and down your bare legs.

“I’m here to save us both.”

“Huh?”

He takes a step closer to you, leaning casually against your front door frame.

“I’m here to save us both.”

“Frank, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Your sex life. That’s what I’m talking about.”

You feel heat bloom across your chest, embarrassment threatening to eat you alive.

“What do you know about my sex life, Castle?”

You mentally commend yourself at your voice sounding a lot more stable than you feel.

“I know that you’ve been working your way through some of New York’s finest in hopes of finding a singular man that can make you come.”

Oh.

You didn’t expect him to read you for filth.

“Are you slut shaming me, Frank?”

“No, sweetheart. Come on, you know me better than that.”

You nod in reluctant agreement. Admittedly, you know he would never.

“Then what is this?”

“This is a… proposition. Your nightly disappointments are depriving me of sleep, pretty girl. Your fake moans, as sweet as they sound, are getting a little old. That wall is so thin.”

You wish the ground would swallow you up.

“Frank… I am so sorry. Fuck, I am so sorry. You should have told me sooner.”

“Sweetheart, I wasn’t finished. I’m here to fix both of our problems at once.”

“… You are?”

“Yes, I am. I’ll make you come so hard you’ll never look for another one night stand again, which, in turn, means I get a good nights sleep. It’s a win-win.”

You’re almost hyperventilating, chest heaving as you observe the way he looks at you. He’s staring at you like he wants to eat you alive.

You want him to.

He steps forward again, resting his forehead against yours as he cradles your face with his gun calloused hands.

“You can say no,” he murmurs against your lips. “I won’t be offended, babe. I promise. We can pretend this never happened.”

“I don’t want to say no,” you whisper back. “You gonna make good on your promise, Castle?”

He grins, looking at you with fire behind his eyes.

“I’ve never made a promise I couldn’t keep, honey. Can’t wait to hear how pretty you really sound.”

With that, he slams the door shut with his foot, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

There will be neighbours making noise complaints tonight. Frank certainly won’t be.

[moonagedaydreamsofrhiannon]

IN DEFENSE OF TRAVIS MARTINEZ:

Because I’m sick and tired of seeing travis hate everywhere I go.

“Travis was sexist.”

Did he spout some sexist rhetoric in the beginning of the show? Sure. But it’s important to recognize that: A) he changed, and by season 2 he completely stopped, B) he was a teenage boy in the 1990s, and that kind of rhetoric was normal at the time, C) most of his sexist macho tough guy attitude was a complete act that he likely put on to compensate for his insecurity about his own masculinity, and internalized homophobia. (More on that later.)

(Also let’s be real, Travis is basically one of the girls anyway and I’m tired of pretending he’s not.)

2. “Travis didn’t care about Javi.”

Did we watch the same show??? Granted Travis may have had trouble expressing his feelings (also related to his insecurities about masculinity, likely learned from his father, as well as growing up in a patriarchal and homophobic society), but he cared deeply about Javi. In S1E4, Travis literally DUG UP HIS DAD’S GRAVE, through horror, tears, and vomit, in order to retrieve his ring to give to Javi. When Javi disappeared, Travis kept looking for him every day for months, and never gave up, even when logically it would have seemed impossible for him to still be alive. He comforted and reassured Javi when neither of them drew the card. He cradled Javi’s dead body and ate a bite of his raw heart (which was a metaphor for how much he loved him, and a parallel to Shauna eating Jackie’s raw ear.) Maybe Travis wasn’t always there for Javi in the way he needed, but he absolutely loved him, and it’s important to remember that Travis was also a traumatized, grieving, kid who just lost his dad.

3. “Travis slut-shamed Nat.”

As we are literally shown in the show, Travis was not trying to slut shame her, he asked how many times she had done it because he was embarrassed about the fact that he was a virgin, and worried that she would judge him, or that he wouldn’t measure up because he was more inexperienced than her. When she told him she hooked up with Bobby Farleigh, he did not get mad at her because she slept with another guy (he already knew about that, and was fine with it), he got mad because she hooked up with his bully, and then lied to him about it. I don’t blame Nat for this, she didn’t know about it at the time, and didn’t want him to get mad once she found out, but I also don’t blame Travis for being hurt and embarrassed and upset with her for lying about it.

4. “Travis was just kind of a dick.”

Sure, but so were all of them. He acted like kind of a jerk in the first season. So what? Shauna had an affair with her best friend’s boyfriend, lied to her about it for months, and refused to apologize. Misty tried to drug Coach Ben. Nat faked his brother’s death to him (yeah, she was trying to help him move on, but still not cool). All of them called him “Flex” (y’know, the nickname that was used to bully him for years). None of them are perfect or nice or likable all the time, and that’s ok; that’s the whole point. They’re realistic, complex, flawed, morally gray and sometimes unlikable people. They’ve all done bad things, but nothing Travis did is worse than what anyone else on that show has done. He was a traumatized teen whose dad literally just died. Also, me personally, if everyone around me was constantly calling me the mean nickname that was used to bully me since middle school, I would also probably act like a little bit of a dick.

5. “Travis is a straight man.”

Wrong. (Also not really a valid reason to hate someone… But most importantly, just wrong.)

Travis Martinez is clearly a bisexual.

So many of his issues: the insecurity, the bullying, the macho tough guy act, the whole weird complex about his masculinity, all of it stems (at least partly) from the fact that he’s bisexual and has internalized homophobia. The whole “Flex” thing is just thinly veiled homophobia. The main reason why he got bullied is because Bobby Farleigh spread a rumor about him getting back surgery to better suck his own dick. The unsaid implication there is that he’s a man who sucks dick, which is inherently queer, even if it is his own. If you look even slightly past the most surface level interpretation, it’s pretty obvious that Travis was bullied because of homophobia. His performance of stereotypical toxic masculinity was clearly over compensation for the fact that he doesn’t fit into the box of traditional straight masculinity, and was a reaction to the bullying from his peers, abuse from his dad, and internalized homophobia from growing up in a homophobic and patriarchal society. As the show progresses he starts to unlearn that toxic masculinity and internalized homophobia, and he allows himself to be more vulnerable, emotional, and feminine, and as a result, he becomes stronger, more confident, and more respectful of the people around him.

As for Travis being a man… Is he though???

In season 1, Travis is a man (narratively speaking); there is a clear distinction between Travis/Coach Ben and the girls. However, in season 2, we see a stark shift in how Travis is depicted. The separation between Travis and the girls pretty much ceases to exist. Narratively speaking, there is no distinction made between Travis and the other girls; they are one entity—one hive mind. Instead, the emphasis is now placed on the distinction between Coach Ben and the girls/Travis. When Coach Ben watches the Yellowjackets eat Jackie in horror and disbelief, Travis is right there with them, dressed in ancient greek robes along with the rest of them. In season 2, Coach Ben is the only real Man of the group (Travis has narratively become one of the girls, and Javi is just a boy, not a man) and he is shown staying separate from the rest of the group, and growing more and more uncomfortable with the cultish dynamics, while Travis, on the other hand, becomes more and more integrated with the group, as he falls deeper and deeper into cult beliefs, until he is a full-blown devout Lottie worshipper. Of the three males on the show, he is the only one who actually participates in cannibalism with the other Yellowjackets. Also he lost his virginity to a lesbian.

Whether or not you choose to believe that Travis is transfem (I do) you cannot deny that, at least narratively speaking, Travis is literally just a girl.

6. Travis is a victim.

I don’t know why nobody in this fandom seems to acknowledge this, but Travis is a sexual assault victim and I’m tired of people constantly overlooking and ignoring that fact. In Doomcoming, the girls (excluding Jackie and Nat) chased him down, sexually assaulted him, and then tried to kill him. That’s not something that’s up for debate or denial, that is literally canon. Stop pretending it didn’t happen. Stop pretending it wasn’t assault. Stop shaming him and making fun of him for struggling with sex, or not always being able to get it up. That’s a normal trauma response after being assaulted/raped. You guys are literally proving the point. This kind of treatment from society towards masculinity and male victims is just playing into the patriarchy and toxic masculinity, and is exactly what made him act the way he did in season 1 in the first place!

[bgyuus]

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡° we can't be friends

he was important to you

this isn't accurately based of his lore (his story will be dropping in 2.1) nor even based of the 2.0 storyline BUT ariana grande's new song and album had me on a chokehold sm i just had to write it about aventurine, although i can see this song fitting perfectly with sae itoshi from blue lock too :> (not proofread btw)

"kakavasha!"

you smiled, running up to him with a small piece of bread in your fingers. having to live under poverty because of the 'bad guys' that were attacking your hometown was becoming even harder to find food yet alone shelter.

the boy with with blonde hair and purple eyes- that you swore you could look into them everyday and never got bored, turned to you with a wide smile on his face. "this is great! we finally have something to eat!"

the both of you shared the bread together under a rundown hut somewhere on the outskirts of sigonia-IV, looking over their homes.

the boy handed out a small bracelet, clipping it around her hand as he bashfully rubs the back of his head. "It's not much but.. at least this'll remind you of me."

"kakavasha.." she whispers softly, looking at him with tears in her eyes. the boy's face instantly turned pale as he nods to let you continue.

"promise me you'll stay with me, even if we get to leave this place, i want us to stay together. promise?"

the boy nods at your words, making a pinkie swear to seal their promise. little that you know that such promises were never bound to be true anyway.

time skips to current penacony

"y/n! check out the view!"

march 7th said as they all step down the express, looking over the reverie. the receptionist greeted them with a warm smile while himeko dealt with the room reservations.

"having problems with checking in?"

a voice that sounded so smug made them all turned their heads, facing a blonde man wearing a exclusive suit that was surely expensive.

"i beg your pardon, mr..?" welt asks, stepping in front of the girls. for some reason, you kept staring at the blonde man. something about him was giving off familiarity. "those eyes-"

"you like my eyes? why thank you, friend."

the blonde said in tone which definitely made you feel like slapping him. he sounded so cocky yet you can't help but feel like you know him from somewhere.

"kakavasha..?" you quietly spoke, making the blonde glaring daggers towards you. "Y-you're.. you're alive?" your hand reaches out to touch his cheek but the blonde stepped back. "the name's aventurine. i have no idea who you're talking about." he snapped, crossing his arms.

dismissing you, he went over to welt and himeko to discuss about the room reservations, leaving you, march and stelle alone. "you know the guy?" stelle asked with a disgusted look on her face. "yeah y/n, he was rude to you," march added. you brought out the bracelet that was wrapped around your wrist nearly as you walked up to the blonde who's name was aventurine.

"mr aventurine, sorry to disturb you but do you remember this?"

you showed him the bracelet, in hopes that this was the kakavasha she once cherished. aventurine flinches when his eyes lays on the bracelet but he shook his head a no. "no idea where you got that piece of art from," he replied bluntly. "you're from sigonia-IV! your eyes explains it! i'm y/n, one of the remaining sigonia-IV survivors-"

"i don't know you."

this made you stop dead as you blinked at him. "w-what do you-" "you heard me."

you lowered your head in shame as the commotion was already attracting other hotel guests in the lobby. stelle quickly steps in front of you as march tries to console you as the tears went down your cheeks unnoticeable.

"fine, we'll have it your way then." himeko glares at him, sealing their deal about the room reservations as aventurine lets out a chuckle. "spot on, astral express friends. enjoy your stay." and with that he walked passed you, sending you an annoyed look before walking away amongst the crowd.

"y/n..." himeko pats your back as she felt bad for what has happened between your interaction with aventurine. you only shake you head in response, giving the express crew a small smile, in hopes for them to ignore the fact that the boy you once loved was now a completely different person.

[babushkatty]

Tranquil SAGAU - Part 3

-> Part 1

-> Part 2

-> Part 4

Turns out, you did jinx yourself last week.

You should have learnt your lesson from all those times you and your sister had spoken bad luck into existence, be it unannounced guests or other inconveniences.

But you didn't, so here you were.

Staring down motherfucking Ursa the Drake, with Dvalin pinning them (her?) down with his massive body and motherfucking Crepus Ragnvindr looking at you both simultaneously like it's Christmas and like he thinks he's schizophrenic.

Diluc didn't look any better. He was as white as a sheet and if you were any better at identifying emotions, you'd think he was about to cry.

...surely not?

But then again, he was younger than in the game and his father was right there, alive and well - you doubted he was anything like the cold and grumpy Diluc who closed himself off from the world that you knew.

A terrified baby that was probably overthinking how Ursa would kill him, his father and the whole cohort they traveled with all the way to Tuesday.

...now you just felt bad for judging. You wouldn't be any better in his place, especially without your scary Dvalin priviledges.

"Ursa, darling, what exactly are you doing?"

All you got for your troubles was a roar in your face.

Except it didn't even feel like a scary dragon about to eat you, it felt like a child throwing a tantrum.

...the notion of Ursa being this uncontested and plaguing Mondstadt for a thousand years while being a mere child was kind of terrifying actually, so you very deliberately decided not to dwell on it. For your own sanity, if nothing else.

"Dvalin, you know Ursa, so... Any ideas?" You asked the dragon, who looked almost bored as he outright lounged on Ursa as if they (she?) were his beddings. If that didn't make a statement, you didn't know what would.

"While we did not cross paths frequently in the past, I had always thought her to be... Especially nefarious."

Ursa trashed around, but Dvalin didn't budge and effortlessly kept them (her? her.) pinned down.

"She reminds me of Durin. But where Durin was oblivious to the grevious harm he caused and merely wanted to play, Ursa is fully conscious and reveling in the pain she inflicts on others, often being open to agreements that involve human sacrifice."

Ursa screeched. In protest, maybe?

"For now, there is not much that can be done. You would need to be much stronger to subdue her permamently, which requires time. But I shall stall her until you are strong enough, alongside Boreas."

Oh.

So your scary Dvalin priviledges were being voided. It was a shame, you really liked his company -- his stories were a delight to listen to and he spoiled you rotten for comfortable accomodations, any bed or chair from now on would be a massive downgrade.

Still, it was understandable. Responsibilities and human lives were priority over your comfort. You weren't going to complain too much.

"I'll miss you," you say as you stroke his wings, not really having access to his torso or head to hug him properly due to Ursa.

Speaking of Ursa...

"Be good. You're making trouble for everyone."

And maybe you were being reckless and simply asking for your arm and face to be bitten off, but you flicked her on the snoot, because you only live once and Dvalin had you mildly convinced nothing in Teyvat would hurt you.

Ursa startles and then, honest to God, whines.

Dvalin huffs in what you assume is amusement and grabs at Ursa with his massive limbs. His wings stretch as he readies himself to take flight.

"I will miss you too, (Name)."

And just like that both dragons are gone like the wind.

...

That left you all alone to face the Ragnvindr and C.O., so you put on your customer service smile and clap your hands in fake excitement you really don't feel.

If nothing else, working in retail taught you how to play the fool.

"So, now that that is done and over with. I believe you have a mess to clean up?"

Crepus looks at you like you grew an extra head, before doubling over in a hearty laugh that broke through the weird atmosphere that settled over the caravan as easily as a hot knife through butter.

Diluc still looks like a poke would knock him over, but at least he got some colour back in him.

"Ah, thank you for that."

Crepus walks over to you and offers you a handshake, gripping your hand firmly and with enthusiasm that was entirely on him. Not that you weren't excited to meet characters from Genshin... but that was the thing, wasn't it? They weren't the characters you knew in Genshin. Crepus was barely a mention, Diluc was a different person entirely and the rest of the caravan were either NPCs hanging around on the map somewhere or didn't exist in the game at all.

So, you had to treat them like actual people.

And you weren't good with people.

"No problem. I'm (Name) (Last Name), just call me (Name) please."

Smile through the pain Harold, grant me your strength.

"Crepus Ragnvindr, and the redhead over there is my son, Diluc. It's a pleasure to meet you, (Name)."

He lets go of your hand and smiles so brightly you half-heartedly wished for some sunglasses. Was this man sunshine personified? Certaintly felt like he was.

"I would say I wish we met under different circumstances, but that's not exactly the truth, is it? Any other circumstances would have me trying to fight Ursa the Drake and that was bound to end badly for me, so... Thank you for saving my life."

And at that precise moment the Knights of Favonius spurred on by Kaeya Alberich himself burst into the scene, weapons ready.

...Kaeya looked like such a baby too, it had you thinking on just how young the literal children like Diona would be.

☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ* ✨ Author Note✨

Suprise, we're 4 years early in the timeline! And I have no idea what the timeline is besides what little I glimpsed from the Wiki, so lore accuracy is thrown out the window!

✨ I still can't tag the one person that asked to be tagged and I'm feeling horrible for it even when it's not my fault ✨

Also, yes, ✨ is my favourite emoji, why do you ask? :D

Also, also -- yes, I did pump out 3 parts in 2/3 days, it is an anomaly, do not expect such pace from me especially since I'm about to throw myself head first into HSR.

✨Self-plug time✨

My UID is 715 837 832 and I got a lvl50 Bronya as support.

I am still on Walt copium, even though I didn't get him even once despite the many, MANY rerolls I did, but that is neither here nor there.

[newroseanna]

"I don't love you."

A/n: sorry if this is bad!! and please comment down more genshin characters I should write for. I was thinking Ayato and Xiao next!

Characters included: Scaramouche and Childe.

Warnings: Yandere themes, forced marriage, mentions of killing. Use of wife and honey. GN!reader (?).

Scaramouche:

When you weren't at the door to greet scaramouche, he knew something was wrong. Maybe you were just asleep, but you and the maids knew better than that. Scaramouche swiftly made his way up to your shared room. Opening the door with a little bit more force than he anticipated. He was met the sight of you sitting down on the edge of the bed back facing him. You were you looking at the window, not saying a word. "Did you not know when I got back? I expected you at the door to greet me like a good little wife." He said, his voice dripping with venom. But when you didn't answer, he walked closer. "Did you go deaf or something?" Scaramouche grabbed roughly your shoulder, effectively turning you around, and he was met with an empty looking face. Your usually alive eyes were soulless. Almost as soulless as his. He wasn't surprised, but he also didn't like this change. But he doesn't feel any remorse what so ever. "I don't love you. Please let me go and find someone who actually will." You whispered.

Scaramouche narrowed his eyes at you, his hand trailing to your hair, twisting his fingers around it and tugging it violently towards himself. "What bullshit are you spewing from your cute little lips. You don't know what you're talking about. I don't care if you don't love me. If I did, I wouldn't have kidnapped you. I love you, and that's all that matters." He paused, using his other hand to run his finger over your lips. "Say something as idiotic as that again, and I will sew your lips shut."

Childe:

You and Childe were currently eating out in a restaurant to celebrate your birthday. He originally asked you what you wanted, and you replied with seeing your family. But obviously childe make that happen. So a restaurant was the next best thing. But he booked out the whole restaurant for just the two of you. Again, he couldn't have cause a scene in front of other people and escaping, can he now? You should be grateful that you're actually getting out of the house.

Childe, for the whole time, was yapping about random things while you just sat there and thought about your old life. The life that was taken away from. Your family, your friends, heck even the people you didn't like too much. You took it all for granted. But it's not every day that someone gets kidnapped and forced to be a fatui harbingers wife. That thought would've never crossed your mind in a million years. Yet here you are. Your feet shackled to the chair while you were made to listen to your "husband" talk about his work. "(Name) honey, I love you." He said with a huge smile. This broke you out of your little trance. "Do you love me too?" He asked, examining your face and waiting for an answer.

You looked up at him. Then, I looked back down at your untouched food. "No, I don't love you. I never will." You said firmly. You're probably going to get punished for this, but you're tired of pretending. Childe smile didn't falter he ocean blue eyes stared straight into your soul. "You love your family and your friends, though? It would be a real shame if they were to die. Then maybe you would realise that I'm the only one you need. Now eat your honey your food is getting cold."

[annabelle--cane]

htn act four thoughts:

-> genuinely surprised that judith is still alive, good on her for surviving being mega stabbed. also condolences to her for losing her cavalier without even getting to eat her, gotta be one of the worst case scenarios for this kind of relationship.

-> if god felt the damage done to harrow's temporal lobe from touching her face, then surely mercymorn must have noticed as well, right? but when she touched harrow's head to try and figure out why she kept calling the saint of duty "ortus," it didn't seem like she came away with a clear answer, nor detected anything that would point her towards such an answer. hmm.

-> I think god believes that harrow couldn't have actually broken into the tomb, but I do not buy that reality for a second. similarly, cytherea was 100% under harrow's bed and either ianthe is up to something or that was non-hallucination ghostly apparition.

-> god's characterization is scratching some itch inside my brain because there's a lot that makes me want to like him. he speaks kind of awkwardly and uses metaphors that don't work. he quotes dead memes and even deader literature for no reason. he's in a weird situationship with his lyctors. harrow tells him about the greatest shames of her life and he tells her they're not her fault and she has nothing to feel bad about. but also his reactions when harrow came to him about "ortus" made me Violent. "yeah I know being constantly brutalized isn't fun and I don't like it but it's a display of loyalty to me so cope ig" "he's a stand up guy, that doesn't sound like him, idk maybe try being normal?" I'm going to bone construct chest explode you.

-> the Big Mysteries heading into the final act: what's up with the second person speaker, what's up with just how wacky the flashbacks are, what's up with the sword, why does "ortus" do any of the things he does, cytherea ???, who's the traitor judith mentioned, and whom the fuck stabbed harrow in the prologue.

[waitingonher]

Hi can you do some Percy Jackson x Hades Child hc?

percy jackson dating a child of hades

pairing: percy jackson x child of hades!reader

content warning: cursing

word count: 780

author's note: sorry this one's a bit shorttt

a son of poseidon and a child of hades? ANOTHER POWER COUPLE. 

everyone knows not to mess with either one of you, or else they’re in for a doozy. 

percy’s always making sure that you’re not overworking yourself. he saw what it did to nico, so he for sure does not want that happening to you too. 

he’ll usually ask in more subtle and casual ways like “training was rough yesterday, how’d you sleep?” or “the lunch selection was good today, what’d you think?” 

it may be overbearing to some, but percy honestly can’t help it. the very last thing he wants is you being too hard on yourself. 

when you two first started dating, you guys—for some reason—decided to make gardening your little thing together?? but when you had accidentally killed them with your aura, you and percy decided to go forward with something a little less…alive. 

LOL so now your guys’ little thing is baking!! 

somehow chiron allowed you and him to use the camp kitchen?? 

anyways, you guys are pretty much pro bakers now! well, if you ignore the time when percy mistook the salt for sugar, then you guys are basically pros. 

you reach your hand out to your boyfriend, “perce, pass me a cookie.” “here,” he passes you a cookie while grabbing himself one, “on the count of three?”  you nod and begin counting, “one, two, three.” taking a bite of the warm cookie, you both immediately realize something’s wrong. the cookie tastes…salty? you see percy’s eyes widen as you two make a dash towards the sink.  “oh my gods! why is it salty?” percy screeches, the chewed up cookie muffling his voice.  after what felt like years of rinsing your mouth, the unpleasant salty taste had left your mouth, “babe, you were in charge of the dry ingredients...so did you use the salt instead of the sugar?”  percy’s eyes widen to the size of saucers, “no…i’m not that stupid. look,” he grabs the plastic container and turns it around, only to reveal the label that reads ‘salt’, "oh…yeah, that’s my bad.” 

considering the reputation your dad has, percy’s always looking out for you. but don’t get me wrong, everyone at camp could not give less of a shit about your dad, but it’s the newcomers he worries about. 

some of the new kids are so bold??? but don’t worry, cuz you and percy ALWAYS find ways to humble them. 

percy’s the type of bf to have almost anything you may need on hand. you need a hair tie? he’s pulling one off his wrist. your lips are chapped? he’s taking out his aquaphor. 

he loves seeing you use your powers, because like…pretty gf who has cool powers over the dead?? what is there not to love??

sometimes when you two are training, you’ll look out the corner of your eye to see your boyfriend just staring at you? percy has ZERO shame and will stare at you whenever he feels like it. 

whenever you guys have sleepovers, he always makes sure you fall asleep before him. it’s more of a comfort thing for him. percy just sleeps better knowing that you’re already sleeping. 

normally he’s a pretty light sleeper, but around you, he’s an even lighter sleeper. he just wants to make sure that he’ll be awake to comfort you in case you have any particularly alarming dreams. 

when you two eat, he never fails to save and offer the last bite to you. but percy doesn’t want you to feel bad about you eating his last bite, so he just nonchalantly offers it to you. 

movie nights with percy!!! 

you’d make him watch all the classic horror movies. shit talking the ones with bad acting and graphics is your guys’ favorite pastime. 

“oh my gods,” percy groans for the umpteenth time, “i swear, it’s probably a mortal who made this movie. they can’t even get the stupid ghosts to look right.”  you laugh at percy’s passion for complaining, “literally! okay but can they get some other guy to play the main character?” 

at this point, you two should make your own horror movie because you’re too busy making fun of them instead of actually enjoying them. 

you also made percy watch tusk… 

ever since watching it, he can’t look at walruses the same. (me too percy)  

gods forbid he runs into one in the ocean. 

percy also has a cork board in his cabin with a shit ton of polaroids on it jdfsksd 

they range from pictures with you to pictures of the sunsets.

but if you pay attention, you’ll find that the majority of the photos include you in them <33

[flowershines]

Special Treats

Bf. Peeta Mellark x F. Reader

warnings: smut, tabs (sex chocolate), protected sex, nicknames, cunnilingus

Not proof read

Coming home from work, opening the front door to your shared apartment with your boyfriend, he was sitting on the couch in front of the tv watching the new season of the Hunger Games. Ever since he had been in the games with Katniss he kept trying his hardest to stop watching them and have the others follow in his footsteps but he just felt bad for the contestants this year, you had told him that they put two 8 year olds in the games this year.

Ofcource he never wanted to see those kids die so he did as much as he could to make them stay alive by sending in donations for them to keep them alive, after winning he had more of a wealthy lifestyle having you both live in the wealthiest side of the capital.

“I’m home.” Dropping all of your belongings in the chair that had been surrounding the island in the middle of the kitchen, he stood up and made his way over to you kissing your temple then complaining about how messed up the producers are “I’m surprised that they made it this far anyways, I think my donations are helping them I hope.” He said while looking down at the ground, shameful for the kids. “They are, they’re still alive aren't they.” “I don’t think for very long though, one and two have been trying to find them since they would be the easiest targets, I left them some small notes saying that they need to find shelter and hide for now.” Running his fingers through his blonde hair as he sat down into one of the chairs next to you, walking to him and giving him a small hug as a way to try and comfort him.

You always loved how caring he was, even though those kids weren't his and weren't even in his old district he felt like he had known them their whole life, kind of like an older brother figure to strangers.

“Oh I forgot Haymich gave me these chocolates for you, he said there was a note on it for you but it fell off when he gave it to me, it's just chocolates so I thought the note wasn't that important anyways.” “Yeah, you're right it’s Haymich, he probably wrote some stupid shit on it.” Handing the chocolate he took it and unwrapped it, “Want some?” shaking your head you exclaimed how you just went out to eat with Katniss for lunch. Taking a bite he hummed at the taste of it, “Good?” he shook his head up and down very fast you thought that he might get whiplash. Laughing to yourself you walked towards your bags and started to put them into your shared bedroom and started putting things away, Peeta walked back over to the couch and sat down right in front of the tv as you heard another buzz sound notifying you that he had just sent another donation to one of the kids.

As time went on he watched the tv closely as the group of trained teens walked over to where one of the kids had been hidden since the games had started.

Peeta’s POV:

Watching the kid shiver from fear made something in me feel horrible for her, a single tear ran down her face as she probably knew that it was the end for her, as they would kill her in no time. I put my hand over my mouth trying to stay quiet as if I was in the games myself, seeing her shiver and cry reminded me of my time during the games, not wanting to see the poor innocent girl get brutally murdered I walked towards the door letting Y/n know that I was going to take a walk along with asking her if she could shut off the tv not wanting to watch it anymore. I knew those kids were probably going to be the first to die but I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them, I mean who wouldn’t.

On the walk Y/n kept coming into my thoughts wondering what she probably thought of all the murder and what she thought of me being in the games as well, more questions about her wandered into my mind. I ran my hand through my hair and sighed deeply, I should probably start heading back to the apartment now heading back thoughts of Y/n couldn’t escape my mind, I probably just missed her so much today so I keep thinking of her.

Walking through the second to last hallway towards our apartment an image of Y/n popped in my head of her laying in our bed in my favorite pear of her lingerie, the red ones that never really covered much. I felt a rise of heat shoot through my stomach down to my sudden growing bulge which twitched at the thought, walking faster than before not wanting any of our neighbors to catch me with a growing hard on in my pants.

The more I would think of that image of her the more tighter my pants would go up against my dick making the sensation of the fabric rubbing against it even more hard to concentrate on any other random thought that might run through my head. Arriving at the apartment she was in our shared bedroom but instead of wearing the lingerie she was wearing the same clothes since the last time I saw her in.

She was on her knees putting things away in the bottom drawer of the dresser, I walked in front of her hoping she would see my aching problem and help out. She noticed that I was standing above her, she looked up at me with the most innocent eyes that stared into mine as she smiled softly. “When did you get back?” She said as he attention went back to what she was doing before, “Not that long ago.” I grabbed her by her jaw with one hand and made her look up at me, “I need you, now.” her eyes trailed from my eyes all the way down to my pants. My dick was right in front of her face making it perfect eye level with the tip as it leaked pre cum through my boxers and pants.

“All of the sudden?” She giggled still looking at my bulge then up at me, “Please Y/n, I was thinking then you came into my mind then an image popped up of you in my favorite lingerie on you.” I let go of her jaw and looked down at her with pleading eyes, “Your always horny.” She said standing up and walking towards the kitchen to get the last of her bags, I stood there defeated knowing that I would probably have to resort to my hand again. “Peeta?” She said from the kitchen, I walked into the room that she was in and stood in the doorway with an arched eyebrow and head tilted in the slightest way possible. She looked at me holding the box of the chocolate, “Do you not know what this is?!” “Chocolate.”

She rolled her eyes, “No shit, Tabs?” Looked her in the eyes and shook my head as a way to tell her I was not following, “It’s a chocolate made to turn you on, I should have read the box before giving it to you but I thought you knew.” She dropped the box on the island and rubbed her forehead, “So what am I supposed to do.” I rubbed my hand along the tip of my dick as she looked at it. She took one of the chocolates that showed three water droplets and ate it, “I’ll help you out, we just have to give it a minute for me to digest it.”

My eyes lit up with excitement, she walked over to the couch and placed a movie on and started watching it. I walked over to her and sat down next to her, I kept shifting and squirming in my seat as her attention was focused on the show in front of her. “Can I please eat you out?” I asked looking her up and down, she nodded and laid back against the arm of the couch using it as a pillow, I pulled her pants down which to my luck she wasn’t wearing any underwear giving me even more easy access. She whined at how slow I was going, I got closer to her heat and licked my lips as they hit her folds. I loved eating her out she always tasted so good and she would play with my hair all roughly making me moan into her pussy.

She would whine and breath all shaky which was my favorite noises that she makes, I couldn’t help but feel aroused as my tongue was deep into her. I uncontrollably got harder and started grinding down onto the couch for some sort of friction that my aching bulge was missing, as her moans and breathing became more sporadic she would grip onto my hair more tighter as my groans were muffled by her pussy, she loved the vibrations that it would give her and brought her over the edge making her cum on my tongue.

She sat up and pushed me down onto the couch and sat on top of my lap and started to unbuckle my belt I grabbed her shirt and started to unbutton it. The sound of my zipper being undone made me shift my hips up so that way she would be able to move my pants down to my knees. I finished buttoning her shirt and pulled it off each arm and brought one arm behind to her back and undid her bra. “Your a pro.” She said talking about being able to undo her bra with one hand, “You helped me become one.” I said smirking and dived into her neck and started to make my way down to her boobs, she moaned as my hands traveled from her waist down to her heat starting to do small circles on her clit.

She fell into my chest and started kissing my jawline then working down to my neck, she kept whispering sweet nothings into my ears. Pulling my hand away I reached towards the side table next to us and pulled out the drawer, taking out a condom and handing it to her and I shut the drawer and kissed her check. She ripped the packaging with her teeth off and took it out sliding it down on my dick, i softly groaned into her neck from the sudden sensation of her hand on me.

She grabbed my dick and placed it right at her entrance slowly sinking down on me as my hands rested on her waist, throwing my head back from the sudden sensation as I could feel her clench from every angle, her pussy ran along on the veins on my cock, she was made for me.

Grabbing at her waist tighter she started bouncing up and down on me, I kissed her on the lips as she continued bouncing on me. She grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me closer, our tongues danced on one another fighting for dominance. Her free hand ran up and down across my abs then bringing her hand down to my balls to play with them giving me the best pleasure.

Moans and groans filled the rooms our neighbors banged on the wall telling us that they can hear us, I placed a hand over her mouth to muffle her moans but she started to reach her peak and get closer and closer to her climax, realizing this I reached my hand down to her clit and started to rub it in circles while thrusting my hips up to meet her motions. Moans got louder and louder both of our climaxes at their peak, “P-peeta I-I’m gonna-” “Me two, princess.”

With that she started to fall apart on my dick as my cum shot into the condom filling it up, she slowed down her pace till she stopped moving and just cuddled against my chest. She went and grabbed my dick pulling it out of her making me whine from her hand touching my overstimulated cock, then proceeding to take the condom off and bring it to the kitchen and throw it away. She went into the bedroom not soon after came back in her comfy pjs sand had brought me out some as well, she handed them to me and picked up our clothes that had been thrown off earlier.

She walked back over to the couch and cuddled into my side I kissed her temple and said “Thank you princess, I love you.” “I love you too baby”

[schoenpepper]

Breakfast (Dove Cameron)

Intro: Trey spends a night with you, knowing full well he'll regret it all in the morning when he's left staring at empty sheets.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread i just wanna get these over with tbh, one night stands and kinda shmexy times, cussing im not a good gurlypops, reader kinda a hoe ngl

A/N: Good boy Trey yes yes yes yes

Masterlist

Your smoke in my hair

Hot and dirty like the L.A. air

That face, baby, it ain't fair

But you don't know what you don't know

What you don't know, uh

"You look so cute like this, right underneath me, hm~?" When you coo so softly in that sweet voice of yours, Trey is gone. His mind blanks and his bones soften into the mattress. He focuses on everything but you; the sound of cars honking down the street by his shitty apartment, the smog clouding his window, the feeling of linen sheets crumpled in his clenched fists, the smell of cooling blueberry muffins on the countertop. It's overwritten by you, and now your beautiful face is all he sees, your scent is making everything hazy, your hands are slowly gliding down his bare chest and he wants to either hold you close or push you off. He's not left with much of a choice when you straddle his lap and trail your lips from his neck up to his ear, nibbling on the skin.

"Good boy. Stay still for me."

Fuck, your praise gets him impossibly hard, but he's too stubborn to let his voice leak. He doesn't want you to know the control you have over him. When you grind down on him so ridiculously slow, his hips buck up uncontrollably, and there's so much shame tinging his face when he hears you laugh at him. "So impatient. It's okay baby, I'll take real good care of you."

Ooh-ooh, so you wanna talk about power?

Ooh-ooh, let me show you power

Passivity has brought him to the best midpoint of life. As long as he keeps to his close-knit circle of friends and studies hard, he'll be able to get through college with normal grades, get a normal job, find a normal lover, live a normal life. He doesn't like the stress that comes with being extraordinary, no, he's seen enough of that just from Riddle alone. Trey keeps his head down because passivity is his only way to survive.

You stumbled into his Psych class one day and ruined him.

You and your sexy clothing and that tumbler you pretend is filled with coffee but reeks of alcohol. There's something about the way your eyes shine under the LED lights that makes him want it on himself. You're drunk, obviously, when you almost trip twice just trying to get to a seat, the one in front of him. He forces himself to look away from you.

You're trouble incarnate, that he could tell.

I eat boys like you for breakfast

One by one hung on my necklace

And they'll always be mine

It makes me feel alive

It doesn't come as a surprise when he finally hears about you from his friends.

"Y/N? They're like a total player, it's insane. Pretty sure they've slept with half the school. They spend one night with someone then up and leave, but they have like, raving reviews, if you know what I mean." Cater comments offhandedly one afternoon when they're crowded around a cafeteria table, off-white plastic trays in hand. Riddle nods at the statement before stabbing his fork through a chunk of meat. "Yes, they are quite infamous. They're also friends with those two troublemakers, the red and blue ones."

"Aren't you red too, nya?"

The shorter redhead huffs and glares at Chenya who had popped up out of nowhere. "I wasn't using it as a slur, it was just a description."

Chenya giggles. "That Y/N is no joke, Trey." He says as he taps on the edge of Trey's glasses. "A nice guy like you should steer clear, okay~?"

I eat boys like you for breakfast

And I know that you tried your bestest

I never said it's right

But I'm gonna keep doing it

"Is this seat taken?"

Trey looks up to see you, a charming smile on your face as your hand pats the chair next to him. "It's all yours." He replies. He leaves the conversation there because he wants nothing more to do with you. He focuses back to the professor and his notes.

"And thus, this assignment will have to be done in pairs."

...No.

"Whoever is next to you will be your partner, and remember, it's due next week."

No. No, he can't, he doesn't want to.

He turns to the person on his left, only to find them already chatting up someone else. "Guess you're stuck with me, huh?" You chuckle.

"Ah. My name is Trey Clover." He introduces himself because it's correct, because it's the polite thing to do even though he's aching to just up and leave rather than spend another moment with such a problematic soul—a person who's assertive and actively goes after what they want is not a person he matches too well with. Especially not in the context used for you.

"Y/N L/N. You're cute." He feels something in him shrivel up and die when you're talking. "I think I'll like working with you."

Trey barely restrains himself from physically cringing at your flirtatious wink.

I'm sick, yeah, I'm sick

And honestly, I'm getting high off it

Do you wanna see a magic trick?

'Cause you don't know what you don't know

But I know

You're not completely awful.

You're surprisingly smart, and your comments and opinions about the topic of your shared assignment hit all points dead center. He can find a way to peacefully coexist with you and be just another side character in your life, fade away in the background and be forgotten. He likes it better that way. He treats you as a decent study partner.

"Hello? Earth to Trey?"

You wave your can of cold brew in front his face. Perhaps because you'd noticed his distaste towards your favorite beer (or alcohol in general), it seems you've swapped it out for egregious amounts of coffee. It's a step in the right direction, he thinks. At least you won't be drunk in public anymore.

"Yes, sorry, where was I?"

The pen in your other hand taps on a word in the book laid out in front of him. Trey nods and pushes down the urge to push you away (or pull you closer), opting to type away in his laptop as he used the book as reference. "The library's going to close soon, we should meet up again tomorrow."

You nod and reply. "Okay, I'll see you at 10, will that work for you?"

"Sure, and..." He doesn't understand why he's doing this. "If you want, I can give you some pastries as snacks for our study session? I like to bake whenever I'm free."

You smile at him cheerfully. "I'd love that."

Ooh-ooh, so you wanna talk about power?

Ooh-ooh, let me show you power

Trey watches you snap up another macaron from the plate, and he flicks your forehead harshly. "Hands off the cookies, L/N."

"But Trey~ They look so yummy!" You pout at him very convincingly. He holds onto the last of his sanity and shakes his head, but he pops a biscuit in your mouth as consolation. You seem satisfied enough and get back to decorating the cupcakes with sparkly little heart sprinkles. After the assignment, you refused to let him play wallflower and called out to him in the halls as you passed by. He never ignores you. Eventually, greetings turned into coffee into studying together into watching movies and now he's in the kitchen of his small studio apartment baking things with you for Cater's birthday party. You're a good friend. The fact that your body count is likely in the triple digits doesn't matter when you two are just friends.

"You wanna go to mine this weekend? Some of my roommates are planning to throw a wicked party, and I want you to be there."

"I don't know, Y/N, you know parties aren't my thing."

"Oh lighten up, Clover." You laugh, picking up the piping bag to get to work on the next batch of cupcakes. "If you really don't vibe at the party we can just chill in my room. That new movie you like just came out, wanna watch it?"

He raises an eyebrow. "It's not on streaming platforms yet, is it?"

You shoot him a grin.

"Not legally, no."

I eat boys like you for breakfast

One by one hung on my necklace

And they'll always be mine

It makes me feel alive

The party is just as he expected; loud, dark, and boring as hell. He does his best to swim his way out of the sea of slick and sweaty bodies grinding against each other, promising himself mentally to take a thorough rinse in your room's shower to get back to feeling himself. Because right now, he feels like a new, unworn lost sock inside someone's pile of dirty gym clothes. He finally spots you at the edge of the crowd, like you're light at the end of the tunnel.

But you're not alone.

Some girl is all over you, practically drooling while you're nursing a cup of iced coffee.

Why does he feel awful, all of a sudden?

When your eyes find his own, you give him that signature charming smile, shrugging the scantily-clad girl off your shoulder and tackling him in a hug that made some of your coffee spill on the floor. "Trey, you made it! Oh, you look winded. Let's go to my room and get you settled."

"Excuse me?" The girl you left behind has a voice reminiscent of a fork being dragged across the surface of a balloon. You turn towards her and he catches a glimpse of an expression he'd never seen on your face before. One of cold annoyance, of freezing apathy that seemed generally unfit for someone like you, someone who's usually so bubbly and perky. "Do you have a problem?"

"My problem is that you're setting me aside for this nerd, baby, don't you miss me? What, is he your new target? You know he won't even be a good fuck."

He watches the cold anger bubble into lava-hot rage in your irises, spilling out through your lips as you glared at the lady. "First of all, I don't miss flings, darling, you're one of far too many. Second, Trey is not my target. He's my friend, you useless fucking bimbo! And third!" You look at Trey, pointing at his face. "This man is definitely a good fuck! I bet he's absolutely packing and you only wish you could get a taste of this fucking hunk!"

He blinks. Once. Twice.

He's still frozen in place when the girl runs off in tears, and you sigh as you place one hand on your hip, the other bringing the cup of coffee up to your mouth.

"Sorry Trey, past mistakes, you know how it goes. Anyway, let's go watch that movie."

I eat boys like you for breakfast

And I know that you tried your bestest

I never said it's right

But I'm gonna keep doing it

The little wallflower is wilting.

Trey thinks he might be sick. Literally? Figuratively? He doesn't know. But he's probably sick. He has to be. Golden hazel eyes flit back to you. You're sleeping so soundly atop his chest, cuddled up to him with your arms splayed out on your sides. He has his own arms wrapped loosely around you with one hand reaching up to play with your hair as your face smooshed into his chest. He wonders if you can feel his heart beat. It's a little faster than usual because he's thinking about how easy it would be to lean down and...make a mistake. It would be a mistake. You would be upset. Would you assume that he also saw you as nothing but a sex fiend if he tried to kiss you? He knows you've been making an effort to change bad habits recently, and he's been spending enough (too much) time with you that he knows you haven't had sex with anyone in a long while.

He leans his head back on the pillow.

When did this friendship start to rot and burn in his heart? When did it start to regrow and bloom into something so very not platonic? He wants to kiss you. He wants to hold you tighter. He wants to strip off all his clothes and reservations about you and find out why all the people you've slept with once upon a time keep crawling back, and he wants to have that for himself for the rest of forever.

It would destroy your friendship.

It would destroy him.

He settles for kissing the top of your head. For now, it's enough. But he knows it won't be enough for him forever.

He wants to love you.

You've been treated too roughly by the world, won't you let him take care of you? Be kind to you, the way you deserve? 

Would you let him love you?

Passivity has always brought him to the best midpoint of life. But fuck, he doesn't want to be at the midpoint. He wants you. And you, you're not in the middle, you're never there. You're out of his reach because he knows you're always moving forward, while he's always been stuck at the same place. If he throws away the ideals he's held for far too long, can he reach you?

Would you love him too?

I eat boys, I eat boys

I eat boys, I eat boys

He knows his friends disapprove of you. He can feel Riddle's stone cold glare, Chenya's dumbfounded gaze, and Cater's blank stare. "What? Are you serious, Trey?!" Cater snaps out of his daze and immediately gets to shaking Trey by the shoulders. "We told you Y/N's bad news! So you buddy up with them and then—" He lowers his voice to a hissy whisper. "—Then fall in love with them? Are you crazy?"

"This isn't like you." Riddle adds with a sigh. "You're usually more rational than this. Mature."

Yes, but there was never anything rational about love, right?

"Mya, you're really serious?!" Chenya breaks out into fits of laughter, patting Trey's shoulder. "That kinda person is really bad news for you. They'll swallow you whole and spit your bones out clean."

Trey pushes off Cater's hold on him as he finally replies to his friends. "I didn't mean to do it. It just kind of happened. And now I need advice."

"Block them."

"Ignore them."

"Avoid them."

"Advice on how to get Y/N to fall in love with me." He says, glaring at the trio.

"If you want my honest thoughts, I think Y/N is just not the kind of person made for commitment. They'll likely sleep with you for one night and then never show up again, like all the times they've done so before." Riddle takes a sip of his tea.

"Y/N isn't like that anymore."

"Oh no, Trey's down bad." Cater shakes his head. "We all assume we're the exception in the Wattpad love story and think we can fix that person. But what if that person doesn't want to be fixed?"

Chenya nods. "Or what if they can't be fixed?"

"They don't need to be fixed." Trey stands up and packs his bag. "Whatever, I should've known you guys would be no help."

"Hey, calm down!" Cater raises both hands, as if in surrender. "How about this, we will help you out, okay?"

Your smoke in my hair

Hot and dirty like the L.A. air

That face, baby, it ain't fair

But you don't know what you don't know

What you don't know

So how did he get here?

Sparkly eyeshadow and tiny rhinestones on the corner of his eyes, an emerald green low v-neck silk shirt with bubble sleeves, black slacks and a black leather belt. His finger scratches at the layered silver necklaces dripping down his clavicle and he shoots the three a questioning look. "What is this?"

"We're going to the club!" Chenya replies cheerfully.

"And how is this meant to help with my Y/N problem?"

Cater raises up his phone. "You pretend to be drunk at the club, we call them on your phone to pick you up, you can tell them your feelings when you're alone and if they reject you, you can pretend it's just drunken rambling. But if they accept your feelings, then yay!"

"Okay, but why is Riddle here?"

Riddle shrugs. "Moral support. I won't touch a drop of alcohol, though."

Thus, the plan was settled.

He's still uncomfortable with all the bodies grinding on each other, and he's forced to turn away far too many people coming onto him. His friends tell him it's because his charm was out on full swing tonight, but he still thinks they're just blinded by the spotlights and inebriated by the amount of alcohol they'd already consumed. He orders a drink at the bar to at least be tipsy when the plan is in motion.

"Hello? Trey?"

Your voice on his phone speaker echoes through the vandalized tiles of the club bathroom. Cater giggles. "Hi, this is Y/N, right? We're in the Deck of Cards club with Trey and he's like, silly drunk. Can you come pick him up please? We're calling an Uber but his apartment's in another direction and he might be kidnapped with the state he's in." Trey knows you care too much to say no.

"I'll be there in ten."

When you arrive at the club, he thinks you're as mesmerizing as the day he first saw you, even though you're only in a set of black sweats. But maybe that's just the tequila talking. "Trey, are you alright?" You cup his face and he nuzzles into your touch.

"I'll take you home, okay?"

I eat boys like you for breakfast

One by one hung on my necklace

And they'll always be mine

It makes me feel alive

You drive him back in silence. He's worried that you don't find him attractive in the getup  his friends had forced him into, but he's satisfied enough by the way you help him up the stairs to his apartment and settle down on his bed. He can hear you clinking away in the kitchen and coming back to him.

"You're gonna have a nasty hangover tomorrow." You chuckle softly while popping a pill into his mouth, followed by lifting the glass of water to his lips. He takes small sips and watches you put it away. "Why were you out clubbing tonight? That's not like you."

"I needed to get drunk."

"Why?"

Trey looks at you. "Because I did something stupid."

"Oh? And what's stupid enough to get a goodie little two shoes like you drunk?"

He takes your hand and tugs you closer to himself. He can hear loud, fast heartbeats, and you're too close for him to tell whether it's his or yours. "I fell in love with someone who fucks and runs." You burst out into laughter, and he's fearful that you're taking his words as a joke. The fear fades away when your hands wander down the dip of his shirt, a mischievous smirk forming on your pretty lips. "Lucky you, I guess. I'm a changed person now."

Trey finally understands Cater's words about you having raving reviews from your previous nightly escapades.

I eat boys like you for breakfast

And I know that you tried your bestest

I never said it's right

But I'm gonna keep doing it

When he wakes up the next day, he's sure you're gone. The side of the bed you'd borrowed for the night is still slightly warm, so you must've escaped just a few minutes ago. He lets out a sigh and runs a hand through his short green hair, patting around to try to find his glasses. His movements stop when he hears something sizzle in a pan. The smell of bacon reaches his nose the same time he puts his glasses on. Trey only has to sit up to see whether it's a hallucination or not.

He doesn't really want to.

When his hopes are dashed, what's left?

It's you.

In his stupid, frilly Hello Kitty apron, humming a stupid pop song under your breath as you swayed your hips and bobbed your head. You're mixing what he assumes to be pancake batter while his broken-down espresso machine is whirring on its last legs and making coffee for two. You stayed. That's strange, it's weird, it doesn't fit your player persona but fuck he's so glad you stayed. It rekindles the hope in his heart that maybe, just maybe, you saw him differently from all your other flings. You notice he's awake and bounce over to him in a bubbly manner he thinks it's too early in the morning for.

"Good morning, sunshine!" You beam at him and lean down to kiss his lips, still mixing the batter. "You woke up at the perfect time. How about you get your plates out and set the table? I'm making bacon, pancakes and eggs."

Somehow, he doesn't know how, he can see a future with you by his side. Just like this.

An 'I love you' was never said, but he can taste it in your pancakes.

[farfromstrange]

Lizzi's Kinktober 2023

Day 15: Mask Kink

October 30th, 2023

Main Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt really loves to eat you out.

Warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT (18+ MINORS DNI), black suit Matt supremacy, Dom!Matt, mask kink, unprotected p in v, fingering, orgasm denial, slight spanking, bondage (use of ropes), use of "good girl", praise, not proofread

Word Count: ~2.5k

A/n: This is dedicated to @sunaspotato because her mask kink made my mask kink worse. And since she’s on this hellsite too now and wanted to read this, here you go. (Also, I hope you can still look me in the eyes after this. If not, I sincerely apologize. It’s different when one of the people reading this is someone I know irl so I hope I didn’t disappoint with this.)

The air coming in through the half-open bedroom window brushes coldly against your heated skin. 

You never thought you would end up in this position. So… vulnerable. Hunted like prey. It was never your intention. And yet, here you are now. Your wrists are tied to the bedpost with a harsh, greyish rope that isn’t yours, your sheer nightgown torn to shreds and discarded somewhere in the room. 

You’re helpless. Hopeless, also. Your friends have told you time and time again that you trust too easily, and maybe that is true. You can be colorblind to the existence of red flags. When you look danger in the eyes, you tend to gravitate toward it and not away, which has put you in trouble more times than you can count. You have shit judgment, to say the least, so it should come as no surprise that you are in this position. 

He has walked you home before. A few nights ago, a man tried to mug you after you missed the last bus of the night on your way home from work, and even though you cooperated, you had a bad feeling you weren’t going to make it out of this alive. He was about to steal all the money you had left in your purse, your phone, and everything else dear to you. 

Out of nowhere though, a dark figure emerged. He wore a mask made out of some sort of used fabric, a little white peeking through where it kept his eyes hidden from the world. His lips caught your attention right away. They were curled up into a smirk. He looked as if he had no emotions left in him, he only saw red where you saw none, and he beat the man trying to steal from you to a bloody pulp right at your feet. 

You should have been terrified, but the fear turned into a quick thrill, and it made you more careless than it made you careful. 

“You shouldn’t be out here on your own,” he said to you. 

Foolish of him to think he could tell you what to do, but he was right. He shouldn’t have been out there on your own. 

Next thing you knew, he offered to walk you home. Him on the rooftops of the city, you below. And you felt safer. You agreed; you talked to him, and you let the danger right into your life. 

From the second you first laid your wide eyes on the stranger, there has been something so forbiddingly arousing about the image in your head. His plump lips, his tongue, his sharp jawline, and the chiseled chest that he keeps hidden away underneath a tight, black shirt. Not to mention his thighs and the ass he is definitely not hiding in those pants.

It is so arousing, you have not uttered a word about it to anyone. If you told anyone the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen saved your life and belongings a few nights ago and has walked you home from work every night since then, they would surely call you crazy. Perhaps you are, but you have no shame about it. You are ashamed that he does something to your neglected soul, something a stranger in a mask should not do, but you are not ashamed that you haven’t told him off. Maybe you should be, but you can’t possibly find an ounce in your that cares. 

Even though it wasn’t planned and it took you off guard, you let him in when he knocked on your windows tonight, begging you to stitch him up. His panting and the way he groaned whenever the needle threaded through his skin didn’t help with this strange attraction you have been harboring. 

He noticed. You’re not sure how, but he noticed that you were getting turned on by his presence, and it was only a question of time until he would snap. In the end, he did about half an hour into your putting bandages on his battle scars. 

Now you’re tied to the bed, naked and vulnerable to the man in the mask at the foot of your bed, but your heart is not beating out of your chest out of fear. It’s the pulse between your legs that is the most prominent, and the danger only sends the pleasure you’re experiencing to new pinnacles. 

He isn’t going to show you his face, he told you as much. Lucky for you, you do not want or need him to. The thought of getting fucked by a man you have no idea what he looks like is as arousing as it is exciting. The mask on his face only enhances the feeling of being completely exposed to the prying eyes of danger, and you don’t want to miss this feeling again for the world. If that makes you perverted or mentally deranged, you don’t have a problem with that. You’ve been told that your delusions will be the death of you one day, so maybe it’s time to live your truth. 

The man paces around your bed. Eventually, he opens those plump lips again. He asks, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

“What I’m doing to you?” you question, your voice barely above a broken whisper. He’s got you right where he wants you. 

“You’re supposed to be scared of me.”

You want to sit up, but the ropes keep you locked in place. 

“You were supposed to run away,” he says. “But you didn’t.”

“I don’t scare easily,” you tell him. 

He chuckles. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Why he sounds so bitter all of a sudden, you’re not sure. 

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m not scared of you,” you say, a lot surer this time. 

The stranger bares his teeth for a moment, then closes his mouth again. God, those lips. He hasn’t even kissed you yet, and somehow you already miss him. 

“I can smell you, you know. I can smell how fucking wet you are for me. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to control myself when you’re so wet?” he says. It’s a rhetorical question. “You want me to fuck you so badly, and you don’t even know me.”

You blush beet red. You’re not sure how he can smell that you’re wet, even with your thighs clenched so tightly together. There are a lot of things you ask yourself, and for a second you wonder if you made a mistake, but if he knows that you are desperate to be touched by him, there is no chance in hell you will be able to lie your way out of this. 

You want this. You want him. And there is no denying the obvious; he wants you, too. 

His cock is straining against his pants. He is packed, you can tell. You wish you could see him, even just a small glimpse of skin, but he keeps himself hidden away. That’s how it’s going to be. He’s not going to give himself away, and you’re not going to protest, no matter how wrong this may be. 

You want him to fuck you, and he wants to fuck you. There is only one way this is going to end.

The bed creaks. His gloved hand meets your bare thigh, and you shudder. Your mouth falls open. The rough texture hiding his fingertips rubs against the sensitive hairs on your body. It makes your toes curl. 

“Don’t move away from me,” his mouth is suddenly so close to your ear. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you choke out. He has a chokehold on your lungs and the oxygen that is supposed to pass through them. 

His teeth show when he chuckles this time. It’s a breathless chuckle that sends even more shivers down your spine until you can’t feel anything but him. His breath, his hand, his body—you are completely consumed by him. 

“Matthew,” he whispers in your ear. “My name’s Matthew.”

He told you his name. Does he trust you enough not to ask questions? Not that you have it in you to do so, but it throws you off for a moment. 

He told you his name. The masked stranger who refuses to even take his gloves off told you his name. Your mind reels. You’re interpreting too much into this, but how can you not? You are completely infatuated. 

You’re infatuated with the devil. 

The heavy leather of his gloves thuds to the ground next to the bed. When his bare fingers touch you, you’re almost halfway on your way to heaven. 

You let out a soft moan that sends the heat to your cheeks. Your heartbeat pulsates in your ear. You can hear your blood rushing. Can he hear it too?

“Tell me it’s okay.”

You blink at his demand. 

“Tell me it’s okay to touch you,” he says. “I need to hear you say it.”

The words elude you for a moment. “I–” You swallow as you look at his covered face. “Yes,” the consent rolls off your lips softly but surely. “I want you to…touch me.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. This is the most human you have seen him. “Thank you,” he says. 

You open your mouth again to respond, to tell him that he has nothing to thank you for, but he shuts you up by thrusting two of his thick fingers into your tight cunt all at once. 

Your words turn into a loud moan that bounces off your apartment walls. You struggle against the restraints, wanting to wrap around his wrist, but you have nowhere to go. Your walls clench around the intrusion, but he pushes through, his fingertips brushing over that one sweet spot that has you seeing stars within seconds. And once he has found that spot, there is no going back. 

The lewdest cacophony of wetness and heady moans turns into a crescendo. He is playing your keys so delicately, your entire body locks up. The wave keeps on building until it has turned into the size of a tsunami, ready to destroy whatever is in its path. 

He moves his digits in and out of you, brushing against that spot every time he thrusts back in, and he pushes even deeper until he’s filled you up completely to the brim. He reaches parts of you that you never knew existed, and he does it over and over and over again until there is not much more you can take. 

His free hand grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to meet the darkness of his mask. Somehow, that makes your walls clench ever harder around him. He smirks. Oh, that shit-eating smirk is going to be the death of you, you’re sure. At the same time though, you want to wipe it off his face. 

“Look at me,” he says. 

You have no choice but to comply, as ironic as it sounds. 

“Good girl.”

The subtle praise makes your nails draw blood from your palms, the robe rubbing against the sensitive skin of your wrists and probably doing just the same. You’re going to be bloody and bruised tomorrow. You’re going to carry his marks.

You’re his now. 

“Are you gonna come?” his breath tickles your ear. 

All you can muster is a weak nod. 

“Good,” he says. “Don’t.”

You must have misheard him. “What?!” you stammer. “But–”

“No.” 

Fucking with danger is as hot as it is frustrating, it seems. 

His fingers pull out of you suddenly, roughly—you are left with a gaping emptiness that makes your thighs clench, and your throat emits a whine that you are not used to hearing from yourself. 

“Please,” you beg. You never beg. Not like this. “Please, Matthew, I… I’m sorry.”

What are you sorry for? You haven’t done anything wrong. But he makes you feel like you did. He makes you feel like you deserve to feel so pathetic, and that he owns your orgasms. 

He owns you. 

Well, shit. 

The ropes around your wrists disappear for a moment. A moment of mercy, you think, but he is quick to flip you onto your stomach. The bed creaks again. You catch a glimpse of his smirk again. His mask. His body. His cock. It looks like he touched himself while he fingered you, his cock pink and weeping as it stands tall against his stomach. You want to reach out and touch it, a rare beauty, a rare sight, but once again, you are disappointed. 

He flips you over, and he ties your hands back to the headboard. You’re once again trapped. 

A series of cries, “Please, please, please!” Passes your lips. You kick your feet, you say his name, and you moan when his lips travel down your exposed back. You would do anything for more, and you try to, but he won’t let up. 

This is what you get for making foolish choices. 

“Patience, sweetheart,” he rasps. His hand collides with your backside, and you cry out. The pain turns into the sweetest pleasure, making your clit throb in need. You can’t withstand him. “I’m far from done with you. You asked for this, remember?”

The way he says it sends shivers down your spine.

When his thick cock penetrates your tight walls, forcing your legs to stay together as he pushes his way forward, you surrender. Your jaw slacks in a needy moan. He’s got you wrapped around his finger and his cock, and the feelings he elicits in you are so inhuman, you get addicted. He’s a drug. He’s dangerous. 

But danger has never looked so fucking good before. 

Besides, you brought this upon yourself when you let him into your bed. When you asked him to fuck you like no one has ever fucked you before. When you gave him consent to touch you. And when you let him take you like this, you surrendered yourself to him all over again. All of you. Your mind, body, and soul. You gave it all to him. You’re his now. 

His. His. His. It keeps repeating in your mind as he pounds into you, and God, it is good. It is so good, you lose yourself, and you never want to go back. 

The stranger in the mask is what you need. He is all you will ever need. 

You asked for this. 

You made a deal with the devil and now you have to pay your dues. 

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @ravenclaw617 @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch

Also tagging: @blackshadowswriter @1988-fiend

[mangosrar]

you tell me, asshole.

chris sturniolo x fem reader.

warnings: yall this gets a lil steamy. pls don’t dox me!!!!

an: last part of middle game 😓 it’s been fun 😛 my requests are now open so send them in pookies 🤍 also this is not proofread so pls ignore any mistakes i’m on vacation i haven’t got time for that shit. love you 🤍

part 1, part 2, part 3

you couldn’t help but throw your head back to let out a laugh and if chris could’ve bottled the sound and got drunk on it, he would have….

his lips were on yours again in an instant. he gave you no time to wipe your tears. he moved his lips across your face and kissed them away. leaving heart shaped scars in his wake.

his mouth found yours again and his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, begging for entrance. you granted it and the kiss grew needy. heavy breathing and clashing teeth. chris’s hands wandered down to you’re thighs and tapped softly, prompting you to jump. once you were in his arms, still kissing him, he walked the two of you downstairs to his room.

once inside chris kicked the door shut, his lips never leaving yours, before he dropped you down onto his bed and separated himself from you. earning him a whine from your mouth. he walked back over to the door locking it, then turned to face you. he looked so good like this. his shirt was riding up showing the waistband of his boxers and shorts, his hair was messy and his eyes were half lidded and dropped, he looked like he was about to eat you alive.

“what you like my outfit?” his voice snapped you out of the trance.

“i think i’d like what’s underneath at lot more” he just smirked and pulled his shirt over his head, treading back over to you. he hovered over you, one hand on the bed on both sides of your legs.

“you’re so pretty baby, it’s a shame i’m gonna ruin you” his face was so close to yours you could feel his breath. you gulped involuntarily, earning a grin from chris.

“don’t get nervous on me now sweetheart. you gotta get used to it” he wasted no time waiting for a reply. he pushed you back on the bed connecting you’re lips again. you shuffled back so you’re head was on his pillows and he pulled you’re shirt over you’re head. grinning at the lack of bra you wore. his lips instantly moving down to your neck and collar bone. leaving open mouth kissed there. the ache between your legs was becoming unbearable. his lips moved down to you’re chest, licking sucking and biting. the sounds coming out of you’re mouth was like music to his ears. he loved it. he loved the sweet sound of you’re voice.

his lips moved over you’re stomach and he stopped, slightly moving his head away from you’re body. his eyes never left yours once. they were daring and dark

“chris please” your voice was desperate and high pitched.

“what do you want baby?” his hands ran up your sides and settled on you’re waist.

“make me feel good” his smirk grew at your need for him.

“i always do princess” he needed no confirmation to continue. he knew you wanted him to.

he pulled off your pants and left feather light kissed around the area you needed him most. never once giving you what you want.

“stop teasing chris” he let out a light chuckle and pressed a soft kiss over your panties. your breath hitched and he hooked two fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down agonisingly slow.

“so wet and i’ve barely even touched you victoria” he tutted.

the second they were off he dived straight in. he threw you’re legs over his shoulders and your back instantly arched off the bed, hands flying to his hair tugging on it causing chris to groan.

the way his tongue was working you was magical. you were sure you were going to die. the sounds he was pulling from you were so lewd you felt bad for matt and nick upstairs.

“chris don’t stop” you’re pleas we’re futile. he was in no way shape or form letting up. he was devouring you like it was his last meal, mumbling sweet nothings against you.

“so good for me”

“you taste so good baby”

“you sound so pretty”

between his words and his mouth working you up, you were so close to tumbling over the edge.

“chris i’m so close”

“come on princess, give it to me”. that was all you needed to hear before you were hurling over the edge. pulling chris’s hair so hard. almost screaming, wrapping you’re legs around his head, probably suffocating him but you were too far in to care. chris worked you through you’re high never once slowing down, until you started pushing his head away and becoming sensitive.

when he pulled away from you, you could’ve came for a second time right there and then. he was panting and his face was glistening with you’re wetness. he crawled up to you’re face and put his lips on yours. you could taste yourself on his lips.

“tastes good no?” you couldn’t help but become embarrassed at his words. pushing his chest and turning you’re face away from him. he just laughed and took the opportunity to kiss you’re neck.

you could feel his hard on pressing against you’re lower stomach. pulling his face up to be level with yours, you stared deep into his eyes.

“i need you inside of me” you’re voice was so quiet and soft he couldn’t help but press a gentle peck to your lips, admiring the softness.

“yeah?” his lips curved up into a cheeky grin and you just nodded.

he didn’t make you wait a single second before he was pulling off his pants and boxers and lining himself up to your entrance. he pushed his lips against yours as he pushed himself in, causing you both to whine. his thrusts were slow yet hard. he laced his fingers into yours and held your hand by the side of your head. he was being so gentle with you. usually chris likes to throw you around a little, not to hurt you but he liked rough sex. this was different. it was soft and passionate, he was whispering in your ear like his life depended on it.

“i love you so much rue”

“you’re mine”

“you’re so good to me”

you’re nails scratched down his back, trying to ground yourself. the way he was fucking you was sending you spiralling. reaching that spot so deep inside, pushing the air out of your lungs every time he moved back in. you were a mess under him. panting and moaning like a bitch in heat. his lips sucking hickeys into you’re neck never felt so good. chris was just as bad. hips stuttering every time you tightened around him. groaning and moaning your name, chanting “fuck” every time you pulled his hair. it was like he was savouring the moment. worried he would never have you like this again.

you were so close and chris could tell, the way your moans became louder and more whiney, the way you were clinging to him for dear life.

he brought his lips to yours again in a feverish kiss, you could barely even keep up with his lips with how good you felt. chris noticed this and smiled into the kiss before speaking.

“go ahead rue, make a mess, come on i know you want to baby” his voice was raspy and strangled, you couldn’t take it. with one last harsh thrust from him he sent you flying over the edge into complete ecstasy. you were screaming his name and clawing at his back like there was no tomorrow. chris wasn’t far behind you, he shoved his face into the crook of your neck, hips stuttering and he let out a strangled moan of your name before you felt him finish inside you with a loud whine.

he collapsed on top of you and you both stayed like that for a while, catching you’re breath. your hands stroking through his hair, soothing him.

eventually chris pulled back and places a soft loving kiss on your lips. pouring all of his heart into you as he did so. he pulled away and started into your eyes as he spoke.

“i can’t believe i ever let you go rue, i don’t know how i watched you be with someone else when i loved you this much. how stupid am i” the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

“you tell me ass hole” he let out a breathy laugh at your insult and just kissed you again.

god was he glad to have you back.

@christinarowie332 @sturnphilia @soursturniolo @freshlovehacker @sturniolostvrs @kitaysworld @urmyslxt @biimpanicking @cupidtoast @lividnity @deatthmatch @daddyslilchickenfingers @flowerxbunnie @hedgehogperalta

[hederasgarden]

can i request a soulmate au with six? specifically the soulmate aus where whatever you write or doodle on your skin appears on the other person’s?

i think it would be a neat way for him and soulmate to communicate when he’s away

Pairing: Sierra Six x F!Reader  Word Count: 507 Warning: Soulmate AU with some angst.  A/N: This is my first time writing a soulmate AU so please be gentle. Thanks to Mushu for reading this over. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist ♡Ryan Gosling Character Masterlist

On the morning of your birthday, you take a pen and write your name and address on your forearm. Then you wait, staring hopefully at the blank skin beneath the ink. Your soulmate, whoever they are, never writes back and each year you find yourself a little less optimistic about getting a response.

Perhaps he’s already happily in love with someone else. Maybe he simply doesn’t want you. You push away the more persistent thought that occasionally surfaces—maybe he’s dead. You don’t think that’s actually true, you’d feel it if he were.

Your family and friends do their best to make your day special, but your thoughts keep drifting back to your unanswered message. Everyone else you know has found their soulmate and it hurts to see them all so happy. Today, you wear long sleeves and try to push aside thoughts of what’s hidden beneath. You eat at your favorite restaurant and fill your day with activities. You've almost forgotten about the message until you get home and change for bed. 

Beneath your message is another. The ink is red and the letters are messy and jumbled. Your heart catches in your throat. 

I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?

You scramble for your desk, grabbing for the first pen you see and writing back quickly. Your hands shake so bad it's a miracle your words are legible.

Of course. Please. I want to meet you.

A minute later you get your answer. It's a simple message, but it confuses you.

Door.

Then you hear it—a soft but firm knock on your front door. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you hurry to the entrance. It doesn’t matter that you’re in ratty old pajamas or that your face is bare, stripped of the makeup you wear as a shield against the world. Your soulmate is here.

You fling the door open and gaze up at the man you find there. He’s holding a bouquet of half wilted flowers, standing perfectly still. His eyes are the bluest you’ve ever seen, and a full, pouty bottom lip is barely concealed by a neatly trimmed dark goatee. 

"Hey," you breathe, overwhelmed when he offers you a sweet but hesitant smile. “You’re here. Come in, come in,” you urge stepping back to give him space to pass you. 

"I'm sorry.” He stares at you, his eyes roving over your face. “I've....” he trails off, looking away. “There's a lot you don't know." 

"It doesn't matter," you tell him honestly.

He raises his hand as if he means to touch you only to draw away. He steps back but before he can get far you launch yourself at him, knocking into him. He stumbles but manages to catch you, and you bury your cheek against his chest, your joy at having him here eclipsing any shame or embarrassment. 

After a moment of hesitation, you feel his arms surround you and he rests his cheek against the top of your head. He sighs, and you hold him tighter. Whatever story he has to tell doesn’t matter right now; he’s real, alive, and here with you. That's all that matters.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Drabble-A-Thon Prompt 2

Pairing: ShigaDabi

Rating: Explicit

Prompt: Hypno with dead dove elements, humiliation, forced feminization, and yandere!Shigaraki.

Contents: Rape/Non-con, hypnosis, humiliation, forced feminization, cock cages, anal fingering, anal sex, yandere!Shigaraki, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Dabi doesn’t know why he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, his nerves high, and a shaky tension ringing throughout his entire body. He doesn’t know why he’s staring at the door into his room, expecting something to happen. It’s the kind of paranoid anticipation that usually would have him just throwing the lock shut and reminding himself that if someone wants to get to him here, they would have to go through an army first. But he is waiting and he can’t make himself go lock the door. 

It opens without any fanfare, and Shigaraki steps inside. He didn’t knock, he doesn’t have any reason to be in his room, and Dabi doesn’t understand why his entire body goes hot and squirming with embarrassment. 

“Duster, what the hell? Knock–” 

“You were very bad today, baby girl.” Shigaraki says, starting to cross the room with slow, even steps, his hand moving up to his tie to start to pull it loose. 

Dabi’s entire face goes hot. “What the fuck? Get out of my room, and don’t fucking call me that! I’m not a girl!” 

“Don’t talk back to me, princess.” 

Dabi’s entire mind goes fuzzy, a high whine of panic going through him as he suddenly feels like he’s been locked out of his own body. He doesn’t know what is happening to him, but there is an echo going through his mind that he can’t place, that he doesn’t understand as it rings around in his skull. 

Good girls don’t talk back. 

He shuts his mouth and Shigaraki has reached the bed. Tossing his tie and suit jacket to the foot. “Did you like having their eyes on you all day?” 

“No, Sir.” His mouth moves without him telling it to, and Dabi feels the heat across his face go even warmer. Shig reaches for his chin, four fingers against his skin, and Dabi moves with him, looking up at him. He hopes he can see the confusion on his face, his indignation, because otherwise he knows the only thing that the other will find is fear and his shame at being… puppeteered. 

It’s only when he meets Duster’s eyes that he sees the iris is ringed with glowing pink. A new quirk. It must be. He’s making Dabi do these things, and the second that he loses focus of it, Dabi is going to burn him alive. 

Good girls only want attention from Sir. 

“I don’t want anyone else to look. I just want you, Sir.” Dabi tells him, each word feeling dragged out of him. 

“Is that right, baby girl? Then show me that you were being good all day.” Shigaraki takes up the space on the bed when Dabi’s body moves, far too easily given how hard he is trying to fight it and reach for his quirk instead, standing so that he can hook his fingers under the waistband of his pajama bottoms. 

He pulls them down and his face would blanch if he weren’t blushing so badly. He has been wearing his normal boxer briefs all day. That’s what he remembers putting on after his shower, that’s what he remembers seeing whenever he used the bathroom. But that is not what he’s wearing right now. No. Right now he’s wearing a cute lacy set of pale pink panties that do nothing to hide the fact that his cock is locked away in a small pink silicone cage beneath them. 

Good girls are always pretty for Sir.

“Very good, princess.” Tomura praises, crooking a finger so that he has to move closer. Hearing that word again makes Dabi’s body start to heat. He doesn’t want it to, he isn’t a girl, he doesn’t want Shigaraki to touch him, but there isn’t any way to deny the arousal that is starting to thread through his body. “You look so pretty like this.” His hand moves over Dabi’s hip, thumb skimming beneath the thin fabric. “Always look even prettier on your back. Lay down and spread your legs.” 

No. Dabi’s body doesn’t listen to his desires though. He gets onto the bed, spreading his legs wide so that Shigaraki can move between them. 

Good girls always do what Sir wants.

Tomura’s hands catch the edge of the panties and he pulls them down, leaving him completely exposed. “Such a pretty thing, aren’t you, baby girl? It’s no wonder that all of the recruits want to steal you for themselves. But they can’t have you, can they? You’re my princess, aren’t you?” 

He’s not even touching his caged cock. His hands are on his thighs, closer to his knees than anywhere sensitive, and he doesn’t want this, but his body doesn’t care. Dabi moans softly as he hears that word again, his cock trying to fill with blood that is choked away and making him heat elsewhere as his arousal builds. 

Good girls belong to Sir.

“Yours, Sir.” He tells Shigaraki immediately, his voice sounding shaky. 

“Yes you are,” The other purrs, his hand moving up to between his legs. “My needy little girl.” Dabi’s body can’t tense, but he wants to when his fingers reach back towards his hole. He expects pain, he doesn’t expect Shigaraki’s fingers to rub against him and for him to be wet. “With his pretty drippy cunt and cute soft clit.” 

Good girls make their bodies perfect for Sir.

Dabi doesn’t know if he’s ever felt the cocktail of humiliation and helpless fury in his veins as he does now as Shigaraki forces another wave of pleasure to push through him as he rubs his fingers around his hole, teasing his nerves and waking them up. He sinks two fingers inside so easily, squelching through lube that Dabi doesn’t remember using, moving too easily inside of him for him to not have already stretched himself in anticipation of having more. He doesn’t want to moan again, doesn’t want to rock back, really, really doesn’t want to say, 

“Ah, Sir, please, missed having your cock in my pussy all day.” 

Good girls always want Sir’s cock.

“Yeah, princess?” Tomura is smiling at him, that pink glow getting brighter around the edges of his irises. “That’s good, because I missed having you just like this. It makes me so sad that you can’t be this way all the time. But I know that you want to be independent. You can keep working as long as you’re always such a good girl when I come to see you at night.” 

“Thank you, Sir,” he can barely get the words out, his face burning as he trembles on the bed. Shigaraki has three fingers inside of him, and he already feels so worked up. He can’t remember ever being so aroused without being able to get hard, and his cock–Good girls have soft clits– is aching so badly in the cage. 

Good girls forget when Sir leaves.

Shigaraki strips out of the rest of his clothes while Dabi’s body pants and whimpers on the bed, keeping his legs spread wide for him, and by the time his cock is sinking inside of his body, Dabi has tears trickling over his temples as he moans.

Good girls will forget until they learn to love Sir as much as he loves them. 

Dabi will be a good girl for Sir soon. 

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[villruu]

Fake amnesia with Alex and Jay?

send me a reverse trope and MH characters & I'll write something for it

On AO3

At first struggled w this one (couldn't decide between who was the fake amnesiac) and then this came to mind and i may do another oneshot about this lmao?

⸻

Alex woke up, for once, not wanting to die.

It was a novel feeling, to be honest. Waking up without having that deep dread rooted inside him, eating him from the inside out, without feeling like he was being observed, like he was about to become prey. Waking up and just feeling… nice.

He could hear the sound of someone in his kitchen, the sound of pots being moved and the old fridge being opened and closed and opened and closed. And, while usually, that would be enough to make him grab the gun he hid underneath his pillow, today, it just merely made him snort fondly and get up, pausing to even yawn and stretch.

How could he be worried, when he knew exactly who was inside his house? He had been the one to invite him yesterday.

The mere memory of yesterday was enough to make Alex smile, feeling giddy and happy in a way he hadn’t felt in ages.

This was the perfect opportunity, the perfect chance to at least make sure nothing bad happened, to at least keep one person alive. He just had to make sure the other didn’t find his computer or where he had been staying, and it would be okay. With no clues, the other would have no other option but to leave.

When Alex entered the kitchen, he couldn’t help the amused snort upon seeing Jay startled and fumble with something at his appearance, probably a pan or a mug knowing how clumsy Jay was.

“You slept okay?” He asked, leaning against the counter.

“Oh! Uh, yeah,” Jay nodded nervously, turning around to pour himself some coffee, “Thanks, by the way, for letting me stay. I, uh, I didn’t know where I would have gone.”

“Of course you could stay,” Alex said, grabbing a mug to pour himself coffee too, “Didn’t have any luck with your phone?”

“Uh, no, not really,” Jay mumbled, fidgeting with the shirt Alex had loaned him, frowning nervously at his shoes.

“Damn, that’s a shame dude,” Alex commented mildly, like he hadn’t been the one to crack open the phone and carefully pry away parts of the hardware so it wouldn’t work, “Was the chip okay, at least?”

“I don’t, I don’t think so,” Jay grimaced, clutching tightly his mug, “I, um, I have no idea why. Maybe I broke it, um, broke it before you found me?”

“Probably,” Alex said, satisfied as a smug cat internally, “Guess you’ll have to get a new one.”

“I, um, I guess so.” Jay frowned even more.

He looked pale under the white light of his kitchen, eyes sunken and bruised with eyebags.

But, Alex thought to himself, if he were in Jay’s situation he doubts he would have been any better.

…Actually, when it had been him, it hadn’t been any better, to be honest. Alex shuddered as he remembered how it had been almost a year ago, waking up one day without a single idea as to what had happened, to where he was, where was Am—

Alex shook his head, and tried to focus on Jay, who now looked at him with some strange expression.

“Any idea what you will do?” He asked, taking a sip of his coffee, “Since you, um, don’t remember the last…?”

“Four years,” Jay reminded him quietly, fidgeting, looking unnerved, “And, um, I don’t know? I thought maybe, um, walking around and trying to find clues? As to why, um, why am I here?”

Hm. 

No, that would be far too… dangerous. The probabilities of Jay remembering something would be too high. No. That wouldn’t do.

“Maybe you should try contacting your family?” Alex suggested gently, carefully laying a hand on Jay’s shoulder, “Maybe they have an idea as to what you’ve been up to.”

“I… Uhm. I hadn’t, uh, I hadn’t thought of, of that,” Jay stuttered, looking uncomfortable, “I…”

“From what I remember you used to call your parents every weekend back in college,” Alex said, “They probably have an idea. I doubt you have changed much since then.”

“I…um, I’ll think about it,” Jay promised him, avoiding his eyes.

Good. 

The sooner he got Jay out of here, the better for everyone. 

If Jay left, then Tim would forget as well. And everything would be just fine.

And if not… Well, it would be easier to catch Jay off guard if he didn’t remember the last time they had seen each other.

Alex left the kitchen, and did not notice the knowing and weary look Jay pinned on his retreating back.