#i'm not. i'm mostly confused and frustrated.

[kiame-sama]

How would the HAE boys react to finding out the reader is pregnant with their child(ren)? (I’m unsure if you’ve answered a similar request but either way, I love your writing!!!)

This is only one half of the yanderes, Including the Hoard (Sebek, Silver, Lilia, Malleus), Poisonous Beauty (Vil and Rook), Octo-Trio (Azul, Jade, Floyd), and Idia. I will do part two with the other NCR characters

Warnings: as the request states, Yandere, yandere behavior, yandere relationship, pregnancy warning, afab reader (though I will keep pronouns they/them), large mention of poly relationships with the fellas (many mention poly relationships and some require a poly relationship to be in any relationship [ie. The Hoard and Malleus]), by selecting 'view more' you consent to view content and are of age to view content, some have oviposition based on the species, mainly ficlets, any appearances made by Grim or Ortho are solely platonic, some graceful responses, some not so graceful responses, all positive responses, mostly fluff minus some teasing and confusion, not all take place at the same time, various 'relationship routes', mostly poly relationships, various poly group dynamics*

*Special note; In The Hoard, Lilia and Silver are NOT romantically interested, they are father and son and hold firmly to that.

*Special note; In the Octo-Trio, Jade and Floyd are NOT romantically interested, they are twins and have always shared things.

The Hoard:

Malleus Draconia (300+)

"You... what?"

Malleus stood in complete disbelief and surprise, waiting for it to be some kind of joke made in poor taste, but the serious expression of his beloved Human never once left their face. It took only a few moments longer for him to realize his beloved Human (Y/n) was- in fact- not joking. A momentary pause gave way to genuine jubilation and joy as the air seemed to noticeably warm.

The Dragon was quick to fall to his knees and press both clawed hands eagerly to his beloved mate's stomach, as if he were trying to see the egg- hopefully eggs, plural- forming in their soft womb. Though he couldn't see them yet, he was more than elated to know that inside of his mate was the formation of his young. He would make sure that his hatchlings had what he never got the privilege of having- both parents. He never got to meet his father or mother, but he would be damned if the same ever had the chance to befall his own children.

"Are you... happy?"

"Of course I am! I am thrilled we will bring the next generation of Draconias into our humble home. Lilia is an expert in raising Dragon hatchlings- he raised me after all- so I am certain the others in the Hoard will be so thrilled to hear you are with child. Our child."

Malleus continued to hum and purr, nuzzling his nose ever so gently against the soft stomach of his beloved. How many times he has wished and hoped for such an event to come to pass. He knew there were many things to prepare for; forming the proper foundation of a Hoard for his new young, preparing the 'Cradle' to imbue the egg with his magic, just getting the egg here in the first place, deciding names, announcing it to Briar Valley, all of it. He had to make sure it was all perfect for his perfect family.

"Come, let us share our wonderful news with the rest of the Hoard, I'm sure young Grim is going to be thrilled to be an older brother."

~~~~

Lilia Vanrouge (800+)

"Repeat that for me?"

"I'm... Pregnant?"

"One more time."

"Lilia."

Lilia chuckled at the gentle scolding tone that his wonderful Human grumbled out in, their frustrated frown making him acquiesce. He had asked at least five times for it to be repeated because he just loved the sound of those words coming from someone he adored ever so much. Naturally, he was elated and looked forward to any young running around the gloomy castle of Briar Valley.

"Do you know which of us is the father yet? I'm certain Malleus will be thrilled to hear the royal clutch of eggs will have siblings."

"Yeah, the palace doctor told me based on the wings growing, they have to be yours!"

This actually made the old Bat Fae visibly pause, turning to look with wide and almost hesitantly excited eyes. Surely the sweet Human was joking right?

"They...?"

"They're... yours? Are you okay Lilia? You're not... you're not angry, are you?"

Lilia realized how his surprise must have been perceived as he was quick to immediately try and soothe the somewhat stressed and worried Human he adored. Of course he was happy, he just wasn't honestly expecting to get young of his own so soon. He figured Silver or Sebek would be next.

"No! I could never be angry, not about this! This is wonderful news! It may be a bit confusing for Silver, but he is smart and I know he will adore them as their older brother. How could he not? I'm sure Malleus himself will be more than taken with our little pup!"

Lilia was clearly happy and seemed to be bouncing as he stood behind he beloved Human, wrapping his wings around their body, all while holding their soft stomach in his hands. He had long decided to adore any child borne into the Hoard, but he knew he would be especially gentle with this one. How could he not? They were his, after all.

"Let's go tell Malleus the Hoard will have more than the Royal Clutch to take care of."

~~~~

Sebek Zigvolt (19)

"Your Majesty!"

Sebek cried as he rushed forward, keen to help despite the fact the soft Human in his arms had merely stumbled on the edge of the large rugs lain across the floor. As a retainer for both Malleus and the Human, Sebek was always keenly alert for any sign of discomfort or potential threats. Naturally, even things that weren't genuine threats were treated as such, even as Sebek growled angrily at the rug.

"Vile thing! Tripping up my Majesty (Y/n), you will burn for this!"

"Sebek."

"Yes, your Majesty?"

"I've told you that you can call me by my name, you're one of my mates, you don't have to call me 'Majesty' all the time."

"But I must! As one of your loyal guards, it is my sworn oath-"

The loud half-Fae was hushed gently by a finger over his lips, immediately swallowing down his words and paying apt attention. Of course the half-Fae was loyal, he came from a long line of guards and his non-Fae half happened to be a guard-dog species in the literal sense. He was genetically wired to be a good guard and a loyal companion.

"I just returned from a visit to the palace physician, he has confirmed I am pregnant again."

"This is wonderful news! We should-"

"Not done yet."

"My apologies."

"Sebek, when they checked, they found several heartbeats and confirmed that the embryos growing are canine in appearance with long tails. Meaning you are the father of this current litter."

It took a moment for Sebek to fully understand what was being said to him, his eyes widening and his ears sitting up at attention. His tail began a slow wag that quickly evolved into a whipping force, as he slammed his tail back and forth with barely contained excitement despite the stress inside of him.

"I'm- I'm going to be a father?"

"Yes."

"Truly?"

"Yes, you adorable crocodile-dog."

"I... I NEED TO TELL EVERYONE!!"

~~~~

Silver (24)

"Are you too cold, (Y/n)?"

"Silver, I'm fine. I promise if there was anything bothering me, I would tell you."

"I simply don't wish for you to be uncomfortable..."

"I know, and I appreciate that."

The Reindeer happily trotted through the almost jagged gardens of the Briar Valley Palace, his adored Human resting on a specially made saddle strapped to his secondary back. As the official steed, it was Silver's job to ensure that he checked in regularly with the soft Human on his back, especially after the recent announcement that they had become pregnant once more. He would be damned before anything bad happened to the Human he adored whole-heartedly.

"Silver, since we have some peace in the gardens, I wanted to talk with you about something."

"Of course. Whatever you need, I am here to listen and aid."

"At my most recent check-up to see how the pregnancy is coming along, and they made an interesting discovery. I was a bit dubious at first, but after more examination, the Palace physician discovered this one has hooves."

"... Hooves?"

"Yes."

Silver didn't really seem to understand what he was being told and vaguely thought it odd that his beloved Human emphasized the presence of hooves in regard to their newly forming young. It took several long beats of silence before the Human tried again to gently lead Silver to the right conclusion.

"Out of Malleus, Lilia, Sebek, and you, it would only make sense that the hooves were inherited from the one that is the likely father."

"That would make sense."

He wasn't getting it. A more direct approach was clearly needed.

"That means you, Silver."

This got the Reindeer to pause in place, his head cocking from one side to the other before he turned, auroral colored eyes wide in surprise.

"... Me?"

"Yes, you."

"I'm.... I'm gonna be a Papa?"

"Yes."

"Does Father know?"

"Not yet. You're the first I've told."

There was a clear excitement in the typically tired Reindeer's eyes as he hoped slightly, turning and almost dashing to the doors that lead deeper into the palace. Naturally, the increased pace meant the soft Human had to reflexively hold onto the horn of the saddle to not lose their balance.

"Silver??"

"We have to tell Father! And Malleus! And Sebek! They'll all be as thrilled as I am!"

~~~~

Shinigami Woes

Idia Shroud (88)

"Oh, fuck. Like, irl?"

"The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"No! I didn't mean it like that! I just-! I mean-! I'm a sweaty, gross, gamer nerd. I honestly didn't think you would want to stick around with me or have-"

A sudden excited voice broke through what was meant to be a private conversation between Human and Shinigami, as the previously eavesdropping Ortho burst into the room. He was so excited his leg locked up beneath him, making him stumble into the kind hug of (Y/n). Of course the child Shinigami was listening, he adored both his older brother and the Human as siblings and wanted the two of them to be together since day one.

"That means you're going to have a new baby! I won't be the baby of the family anymore!"

"Ortho," (Y/n) gently scolded the excitable young Shinigami, unable to stop the smile tugging at their lips, "You know better than to eavesdrop when you weren't part of the initial conversation."

"I'm sorry, but I'm just so excited! I'll have a new friend in three years!"

This made a soft sigh escape the Human, as it was quite vexingly true; Shinigami pregnancies- even half Shinigami- took three years of gestation. Of course, no one was excited to be pregnant for that long, but such was the nature of Shinigami young.

"Yes, and you'll be an uncle. so I hope you'll teach your new family member everything you can so they are as kind and smart as you."

Ortho whooped at this, leaping up excitedly and turning on his jets to fly from the room, his voice fading away as he clearly shouted the news to everyone within earshot. This left Idia to face off with his loving and adoring Human mate who was a little less than pleased with his initial reaction.

"Why is he more excited about this than you are?"

"Ghk! I didn't mean-! What I was trying to say is-!"

The Shinigami sighed and then gave a genuine smile, one of happiness twinged with a bit of stress, but a true smile none the less.

"I am thrilled we will have a tiny ankle-biter together. I can show them all the ways technology can be used and Ortho will finally have someone closer in age to play with. But, it is a long pregnancy, and I would wage a guess it won't be easy. But fuck it, I'll grind out some parenting levels and see what Papa Hades thinks is best. We're going to have the most skilled and smart gamer-kid to ever exist with all the best stats!"

~~~~

Poisonous Beauty

Vil Schoenheit (25)

"Yes, (Y/n), my Dear, what is it?"

The ever popular and busy Harpy actor glanced over his shoulder from the script he was reading, a warm smile pulling at this lovely face as he saw his beloved Human standing in the doorway. His door was always open to his two mates, (Y/n) and Rook no matter what he was doing or how busy he was. Even if he was actively hashing out contracts and deal signings, he would always have time to speak to his lovers.

"Vil, I have some news, not sure if you'll find it exciting or not, but I think Rook will be over the moon."

"Oh? And what is this 'exciting' news?"

"Since I've been having such an upset stomach recently, I decided I should go see a doctor just to make sure everything is alright with me. He said my white blood-cell count is high and the eggs are doing just fine in their now calcifying shells."

"That is wonderful news, I-" Vil paused for a moment, his neatly groomed brows furrowing ever so slightly, "eggs?"

"Yes, actually. Four healthy eggs."

"... and they have calcium heavy shells?"

"Yes. I was worried I wouldn't be able to tell if they were yours or Rook's given you both are egg bearing species, but-"

Vil couldn't wait to pull his sweet and adoring Human into his embrace, burying his face in their shoulder as he spun them around. Naturally, the ever observant hunter was keenly aware of the sounds of mirth and cooing made by his two life-partners and came to investigate what the commotion was all about.

"Roi du Poison, mon Trickster, why the sudden excitement? Has something wonderful happened?"

"Rook! (Y/n) is-! We are going to have-!"

(Y/n) gave a gentle chuckle at how much Vil struggled to get the words out, smiling adoringly at the Harpy who was cooing and fluttering his wings, his tail feathers shaking in excitement. It was clear the Harpy was besides himself with joy as his tail feathers and crest rose up into a full display, very loud cheerful calls escaping the throat of the Harpy.

"Dieu merci! What has happened to put our lovely Roi du Poison in such a radiant mood?"

"My visit to the doctors today revealed something wonderful, Rook. I am indeed healthy- despite my recent bouts of illness in the morning- and the four eggs I am carrying are healthy as well!"

"Merveilleux! My beautiful mates! We will make excellent parents!"

Rook Hunt (19)

~~~~

"Rook?"

"Yes, mon amour?"

"Is now a good time to chat?"

"Of course!"

Rook turned around from the deer he had brought home after his most recent Hunt, his smile wide despite the red that tinted his hands a dark color. He was quick to set his skinning tools to the side and wipe off his hands on a nearby rag. Often, the Drider would be unable to resist putting his hands on one of his beloved mates, so he would have to make sure his hands were clean before that happened.

"What do you need, mon Trickster?"

"Well, you know how Vil and I ran errands today?"

"Oui. Roi du Poison wanted to scope out that new skin-care line that launched and you were going to have a quick health check with the doctors. I trust they were polite to you?"

"Of course they were. You and I both know the fit Vil would throw if they weren't."

"Roi du Poison does have such a way with words."

Rook chuckled in a good-natured and equally good-humored way as he curled his legs slightly, kneeling down to smile at his beloved Human. It was a habit he picked up after seeing how far his dearest had to crane their neck back to look at him, given his height advantage.

"Well, the doctor said all the numbers were well within expected range and that the eggs are thriving."

"... Do my ears deceive me? Eggs? Could it be true?"

"It is true! I wondered if they were your eggs or Vil's, seeing as we are in such harmony most times, but based on size, number, and lack of calcium in the shells, they are more than likely Drider eggs!"

Rook was quick to sweep his beloved human off of their feet, cuddling them and holding them tightly against his chest as he peppered their face in soft kisses. Of course Rook was elated, he would be even if they were Vil's brood and not his own. There was little more the could think of that would make him any happier in that moment than to hold is beautiful mate close. Well, perhaps he would be happier if the beautiful Vil were present as well to share in the information, but now doubt the Harpy had taken a step back to allow Rook his space to celebrate.

"This is the best news you could have possibly given me! Were I skilled enough to entangle the stars in my silk that I could snatch them from the sky as payment for the joy you always bring into my life! Now we will have more joys to cherish! No doubt Roi du Poison is already ensuring everything is being set up appropriately for this next step we take on our journey as mates! Allons-y!"

"Go? Go where?"

"To rejoice with our beautiful mate Vil of course!"

~~~~

Octo-Trio

Azul Ashengrotto (20)

"Come in."

The successful and business savvy entrepreneur didn't even glance up at the knock on his office door, writing up yet another contract for someone seeking to create a join business venture in the empire that was Azul Ashengrotto's Lounge. He had long moved past the Monstro Lounge of his school-days and had become quite the tycoon in the food industry as The Human themselves had bolstered his culinary reach and now their combined efforts had taken Twisted Wonderland by storm.

"You got a minute, Azul?"

The Octopus looked up quickly at the familiar voice of his lover and business partner (Y/n), watching them approach with keen interest as he set his pen down and moved his papers to the side. It didn't matter how much was promised or of what, his beloved (Y/n) came first and was ranked above every past/current/potential client.

"I always have time for you, Angelfish."

"Still refuse to call me 'Shrimpy' like Jade and Floyd?"

"I don't know why they insist on calling you such a name as 'Shrimpy' as if to imply you are a bottom-feeder!"

"I think it has more to do with the symbiotic relationship of Cleaner Shrimp and Moray Eels instead of bottom-feeders, but I digress. I do hope you have divvied up our shares adequately these past few years."

"Yes..." Azul seemed tense and uncertain now, worried that perhaps his beloved Human planned to divorce him and the twins based on the question, "I have. Mostly equal for you and I, Jade and Floyd get a little bit less, but still fair. ... Are you unhappy?"

"What?"

"Because I can fix it! I promise! Just give me a few days and-"

"Azul!"

He fell silent, swallowing back tears as he tried and failed to keep himself from spiraling. Why else would his beloved ask about shares being split if they did not intend to split from him? He had to fix it, but his own tears were making it impossible to speak.

"I'm asking because we need to split them up further and I am happy to give more of my share so you don't have to redo the book-keeping."

"Why would we need to split them further? There is Me, You, Jade, and Floyd. The only reason we would need to split any of our earnings is if another mate entered the fold or-"

Azul's mind finally caught up to him and he was struck dumb. Surely not? The several doctors he kept on retainer would have let him know if there were any difference in your hormone levels. Right?

"Congratulations, Azul, we're going to really have to split up the shares if all of them make it to term and hatch. Hope you can handle having everything split that many ways."

Azul couldn't speak after the emotional rollercoaster he had been on in such a short period of time. He didn't need to though. His tentacles- which he could usually keep on a short leash- suddenly rushed forward, wrapping around his beloved Human and pulling them to him as he kissed their face and any exposed skin excitedly. They gave a sweet laugh under the affectionate barrage of kissing, holding his face affectionately even as the many tentacles gripped at their soft flesh.

"You..! I thought you-!"

"Scared you, didn't I? I figured that's why Floyd and Jade wanted me to ask you that way, since the clutch is entirely Octopus eggs and they're both mad they didn't get the chance given how 'eager' you were to keep going."

"I should have known..! Here I was terrified you were going to make me into Takoyaki for Floyd."

"Eh, it's still on the table~"

"(Y/N)-!"

~~~~

Floyd and Jade Leech (20 & 20)

"Ne, Jade, when is Shrimpy coming home?"

Floyd whined a long complaint, dragging out each syllable as he complained to his patient twin. Jade was busy looking over recent numbers in Azul's absence while he ran errands with their shared mate (Y/n). It was sure to be a long day and everyone knew Floyd would get bored quickly after the first few stops, but he would be bored alone. Still, even with Jade mostly entertaining Floyd's whining, the Eel Merman was bored.

"They are on their way back now, Azul told me a few minutes ago."

"Well why didn't you say so sooner, Jade?"

"It didn't seem like you were in the mood to listen when you ripped that pillow to shreds."

"Whatever. If Little Shrimpy is on their way back, things are gonna get interesting again. Always is! I'm gonna give them a good squeeze for going out and leaving us behind!"

"You chose to stay-"

"Don't care!"

The door to the room swung open and in came Azul, taking the coat off of the shoulders of their shared mate with great care. He glanced up quickly, glad to see Floyd and Jade were waiting by the door. At least then he wouldn't have to go find them.

"The both of you, we have news to share."

"That can wait for me to get a squeeze of my Shrimpy-"

"No, it cannot, Floyd."

"You're no fun, Azul."

The Octopus man was annoyed with the eel but Jade was eagerly awaiting whatever news it was that they had to share. Clearly it was something important if they simply could not wait to settle and let Floyd go about his usual routine.

"If you squeeze her too hard, you'll harm the eggs, Floyd."

"Egg- oh my, has our sweet (Y/n) taken to a clutch? Congratulations."

(Y/n) chuckled at this while Azul pouted and a certain surprise overtook the Eel.

"You don't mean to say..?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure how many are Floyd's, and how many are your eggs but the doctors said they looked fine and seem to be growing properly."

Jade couldn't even respond as Floyd quickly lifted their precious Human, spinning them around while also being careful to not squeeze too hard. Both eels were elated with the idea of having their own fry and Floyd was eager to see these cute combination young. Jade was curious how it would show the combination of genetics between himself and the Human.

"We're gonna have a bunch of Shrimp Eels!"

Floyd laughed as Jade smiled good-humoredly. He looked forward to sharing his ever increasing culinary expertise with the soft Human that he was fortunate enough to share with his twin and comrade.

"Careful, Floyd, you can see for yourself when they hatch. It certainly seems our lovely family is growing."

[yazzwrites6962]

please write more of your niragi fanfic!! i really loved it and im addicted to your writing!! 💗💗

Redemption ♡ Suguru Niragi ♡ Part Three

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Suguru Niragi x Fem!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Part Two: Here

Author's Note: UNEDITED! Not much Niragi is mentioned in this chapter. It's mostly you, Chishiya, and Kuina bonding! I know this chapter is pretty short. I promise I'm working on more! I should have the next chapter for this out pretty soon. I don't own any characters or images!

Genre: A little angsty

Summary: After your last game, you're left swirling with the pain of betrayal. Luckily, you have Kuina and Chishiya to help you recover.

Word Count: 1845

Warnings: OOC Chishiya and Niragi, talk of injury, blood, and betrayal

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Trust and loyalty. The two most difficult things to find in the Borderlands. In a world of betrayal and death, rarely anyone was stupid enough to whole-heartedly believe in the good of another person.

Except, you did.

You trusted Niragi, for some silly reason. Despite all the warnings, you had faith in him. When you called out to him for help, you believed he would he there to give it to you.

Then you watched him walk away. As your blood ran down your arms and you were so close to making it out, you watched him turn his back on you. It was only a matter of seconds now before death would find you. It was sickening. The pit in your stomach felt bottomless.

You couldn't just wait to die. You had to keep going. You were so close, even without Niragi's help. Maybe you could still make it. You pushed yourself further, the barbs on your rope digging into your soft flesh as you reached for safety.

You couldn't see. You couldn't breathe. There was only pain. The sting of betrayal made it no easier to endure, but somehow, you endured. You clawed your way to the top, finally completing the deathly challenge, without the help of the man you thought was your friend.

You hazily found your key and pushed through your door. Your mind was foggy, and you couldn't remember much. You could only hear the sound of your heart beating in your ears.

Then, your vision went black. Yet, your heartbeat endured.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You felt your soft sheets beneath you as an echo of hushed voices surrounded you. Your body ached, and your head felt heavier than usual. Your eyes peeked open, and you were thankful to find yourself in your room with Chishiya and Kuina by your sides.

"Y/N!" Kuina cried, seeing your eyes open a crack. You attempt to sit up, putting pressure on your injured palm. The pain is excruciating, and you fall onto your back once more. Kuina gingerly helps you sit up, positioning you against the headboard.

You're covered in bandages. Around your chest, neck, arms, and legs. You feel almost like a mummy. Memories come flooding back to you. Hazy, but painful memories.

"Shinji! Did he make it out?" You suddenly recall the young boy who you had grown fond of during your game. Kuina and Chishiya give you a confused look, as if not really knowing who you're referring to. Of course, they wouldn't know. The Beach is filled with hundreds of people.

"What happened during your game?" Chishiya inquired calmly. "You lost a great amount of blood. Luckily your injuries were nowhere near fatal."

"Did you patch me up?" You study the wrappings around your body. They look clean. Professionally done. Chishiya shrugged, as if not really wanting to answer your question. "My game... It had three stages. I got these from the last one. I had to... I had to climb a rope that resembled barbed wire. I tried to wrap up my hands, but it didn't work exactly."

"I'm just glad you made it out." Kuina sighed. How did you make it out? You don't remember much. Only the pain and frustration you felt as you hoisted yourself up the rope. You vaguely recall the key, and your bloody fumbling hands pushing through your door seconds before the game was over.

"Niragi. He made it out, right?" You ask, your voice sounding weak. He left you there, struggling. Why? Why would he betray you like that? Just when you'd thought you were getting through to a softer side of him.

"He's the one who brought you back." Chishiya spoke up. "He carried you back to your room while you were unconscious." Kuina nodded, leaning forward to add on to Chishiya's statements.

"Chishiya and I noticed him hauling you up the stairs. We followed you guys all the way back here. We thought maybe he was going to... Do something to you, but no. He just left you here with us."

You hum, not revealing what had happened between you and Niragi during the game. Silence filled the room as your mind raced. Chishiya stared at you quizzically.

"Are you hungry?" Kuina stood, picking up a plate from the table in the corner of your room. "You missed breakfast, and lunch. We didn't want to wake you, but we brought you food."

"Thanks." You muttered softly, taking the plate from her. The food was cold, but you didn't have much of an appetite anyway. "You guys are great friends. I appreciate you." Kuina uncomfortably shifted, glancing at Chishiya. He stood; his hands hidden in his pockets as usual.

"We will give you space to rest." He said, removing a hand from his pocket to wave Kuina towards the door. "Should you need anything, you know where to find us."

With that, the pair exit your room. You're alone, with a pile of cold food and a sore body. You now understand that you can't fully trust Niragi, as much as you wanted to.

Yet, you would've never guessed the conversation going on right outside your door.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"Chishiya..." Kuina whined as your door shut. She didn't need to elaborate further on her thoughts. Chishiya already knew what she was going to say.

"We do not need to discuss this here." He began walking down the hallway, Kuina trailing behind him. She twiddled with her fingers nervously.

"She's nice. She's a good person. We can find someone else. Anyone else. You pick anyone else, and I promise I'll just go along with it." She pleaded.

"Kuina." Chishiya scolded, glaring at her. "We can explore your proposition. Just not here." Kuina's face lit up, now knowing that Chishiya was considering using someone else for the plan.

"Thank you." She sighed with relief, recalling your limp, fragile body being carried back to your room. She simply couldn't betray your trust like that.

"I don't consider it for your sake." Chishiya replied shortly. Kuina's better judgement told her not to question what this meant.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

It felt like you'd been couped up in your room for an eternity. Kuina would bring you meals, and Chishiya often checked on your bandages. Fortunately, he claimed you were "healing nicely". All you had to pass the time were a couple of books and a sketchpad.

"I'm bored." You complained while shoveling food into your mouth. "I feel fine enough to walk and all. Can't I just go out and enjoy the sun by the pool?"

"Swallow your food before you begin speaking." Chishiya rolled his eyes. "Your wounds aren't entirely healed. While you are making good progress, it could still get infected. Imagine that disgusting pool water making its way into your bandages."

"The things people do in that pool are disgusting." Kuina sticks her tongue out, slumping beside you on the bed. "I can't even imagine what kind of germs are in that water. Does anyone even clean the pool?"

"Tatta does." Chishiya adds. In the past few days, he has grown slightly more talkative than usual. You find it pleasant to see Chishiya opening up more.

"I don't have to go by the pool. Just on a walk, or something." You finally swallow your mouthful of food. "I promise I'll be careful, and I won't run into any trouble."

"Why do you try to appeal to us?" Chishiya raises an eyebrow. "I'm not your keeper. I only advise that you remain here and rest. Yet, you are an adult who can make her own decisions."

"I don't know." You giggle, shifting yourself so your legs hang off the edge of the bed. "I guess you two are kind of like... Parents? Mama y Papa, y'know?" Chishiya and Kuina flash disgusted looks at one another.

"Okay, Y/N. Maybe you do need some fresh air. You're losing it in here." Kuina chuckles, helping you out of bed. Had they not found painkillers for you, you would be in agony.

Chishiya left the room as Kuina helped you get dressed. As much as you tried to hide it under your cardigan, your bandages still showed through your bathing suit.

"You still look beautiful." Kuina smiled, giving you a gentle hug and trying to be mindful of your injuries. "Now c'mon. We'll accompany you on your little outing."

"We will?" Chishiya groaned from outside the door. You laugh as you turn the knob, coming face to face with the blonde. He looks as though he would rather be anywhere, but out on a walk with you and Kuina.

"We will." Kuina huffed, interlocking her arm with yours carefully. "Don't be such a party pooper. Y/N is still hurt. Besides, it'll probably do you some good too."

Chishiya shrugs, shifting his hands comfortably in his pockets, before following you and Kuina down the hall. The stairs were a bit tricky, but you felt incredibly accomplished making your way all the way down to the ground floor.

As you make it through the doors of the building, you took a deep breath. The windows in your room didn't really open, so it was nice to feel fresh air filling your lungs.

You and Kuina dominated the conversation, chatting about life as the three of you walked through the front garden. Chishiya listened and followed along from behind.

"I'm still worried." You say, watching people pass you by. "I haven't seen Shinji at all. You know, the boy from my game?" Your eyes drop to the ground as you continue. "I... I don't think he had the time to make it. He was so... Young?"

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Kuina comforts. "It's cruel. What happens in these games... It's not fair. It's like all the best people are getting hurt and killed."

"I was unconscious the whole way back here. I don't know what happened. I don't know if he made it back to the car or anything." You sigh, carefully rotating your body as you and Kuina turn a corner.

"Ask." Chishiya finally spoke for the first time during the walk. Both you and Kuina turn your head to face him, questioningly. "Ask if he made it back to the car, if it's weighing so heavy on you."

"Who would I even ask?" You scoff. Your mind wandered back to who was in the car with you. The only person you really knew was Niragi, and you were terrified at the thought of facing him again.

"Him?" Chishiya motioned to somewhere ahead of you. You turned your head forward again, facing the direction he was pointing your attention towards.

Several meters away, stood Niragi. The one person you didn't want to see. His gun was slung over his shoulder, and he stared directly back at you.

Did he remember how he watched you struggle? Did he see the blood running down your arms as you reached to him for help? What was he thinking when he turned away from you?

And what was he thinking as he began to walk towards you now?

[arceespinkgun]

More detailed thoughts on the current arc of the Skybound comics (spoilers for up to the most current issue, #16) in which I give some more insight into why I'm still kinda ambivalent about certain parts:

Starting with the negatives to get them out of the way (they're not super serious or anything but I think they're why I'm not sure how I feel yet).

The characters who are part of the Combiners are not really characterized at all, and when they are it seems very odd. The Combaticons as big Starscream fans is really strange to see, especially when I remember their G1 debut. Mostly, the Constructicons and Combaticons feel like they're fulfilling rank-filling roles.

It's too vague right now to know what exactly happened between Starscream and Megatron in the past, but if Megatron was compelling or mind-controlling Starscream, I think that doesn't really do Starscream a lot of justice. However (and this is a big however) I believe this plotline is probably symbolic and ties into what's going on with Optimus. This series seems to be exploring the harsh realities of war and its corrupting influences, so even if I'm not sure about how one particular character is written, it may serve the greater narrative.

Arcee's crisis in #16 didn't make sense to me? She didn't jeopardize anything at all, that was only Optimus's (wrong) interpretation... and he went and killed Shockwave anyway! It just seemed odd to me to see her be comforted by Optimus when it almost feels a little hypocritical.

The thing I still find most frustrating is, unsurprisingly, how Jazz is written in this series. He barely feels like a real person with depth even now. Although nothing is like, contradicting his G1 characterization, the fact that Jazz was one of the most prominent and fleshed-out of all the transformers is making me feel like he's not being utilized very well. He always had lots of interesting things to say in the cartoon but I don't feel like that's happening here.

Now onto the positive things!

I continue to adore what DWJ's doing with Elita-1. We get to see her now as a leader of a team, a trait I've been waiting for, and I was surprised by and enjoy her friendship with Warpath! I never would've thought of something like that, but I guess it makes sense. They've been portrayed as Cybertronian resistance fighters before. Her smile while he's getting repaired was so sweet.

In a similar vein, I love seeing characters who have always been around but rarely focused on getting much more attention and care in the narrative. Bluestreak's ruthlessness was great to see focused on and maybe this series will do something more with the fact that his backstory is like Cliffjumper's in this series. I was really excited to see Trailbreaker, a character with a ton of potential, get to shine a little too! I really hope he goes on to be a major character.

Astrotrain is also a highlight for me, and I was pretty surprised to hear he wants revenge against Megatron because... Megatron killed his love interest? This is a surprising and confusing turn I never would've thought of, but I guess this is how Astrotrain would act if such a thing happened, and I'm wracking my brain trying to guess what the backstory is there. I think I'd prefer if this was about a pre-existing character and not an OC, because I found Starscream's backstory about a dead OC friend kinda weak TBH.

I'm super excited to see further fallout of Thundercracker feeling so betrayed and I was happy that this finally happened.

Megatron using Laserbeak as his eyes is really cool and I doubt DWJ would do this, but it would kind of be nice if Megatron was just blind for the whole series.

I'm really eager to see how this comic approaches the deep-seating transformer cultural issue of creating new life to be soldiers thing now that its reared its ugly head, and if Cliffjumper might have some kind of crisis later on if he feels guilt over his choices.

The art is just incredible and continues to be!

For now, I think I'm waiting to see if all this comes together like the end of the last arc worked so well.

[booksandabeer]

A personal—and therefore separate—addition to the post I just reblogged.

This is absolutely not meant to be a comprehensive, constructive, or even coherent response to the "3 f problem." This is me thinking out loud on my own blog. I won't comment on how or why writers should or should not want or need feedback; that's not my place.

But as a reader, allow me to say this:

I understand that there is a lot frustration, disappointment, and even anger on the part of fanfic writers when it comes to the way people interact with their works or, in fact, don't interact with them—and the majority of these feelings are completely justified and backed up by the clearly noticeable drop in comments on AO3. However, as someone who actually comments a lot, I will admit that I'm frequently put off by posts that aggressively yell at me that "comments are payment" and that I "MUST comment" because otherwise I'm a bad, ungrateful person who refuses to "compensate" the author for "the cost of writing" (see also: likes are “worthless” all that counts are reblogs). Not only do these diatribes seem to reveal an unfortunate and deeply ingrained transactional, even capitalist, approach to fandom, but they're also often based in the—conscious or unconscious—assumption that readers are (and only ever will be) inherently second-class citizens of Fandomlandia who must earn their right to be a part of the fandom and who are only barely tolerated as long as they fulfill their part of the transaction.

I also continue to be slightly perplexed by the constant assurances that "ALL comments are welcome and appreciated" and that there is "no wrong way to comment."¹ And yet, I see elaborate ‘How to leave a comment’ manuals circulating on here all the time. I know that for the most part these posts are well-intentioned, and I'm genuinely glad if someone finds them to be helpful, but I fear that they are more likely to have the opposite effect. I'm not convinced that presenting people with a whole catalog of things they could potentially do wrong will actually help them overcome their anxieties and lower their inhibitions to interact with fellow fans. If anything, they make it less likely because now there’s even more pressure to Do It Right and leave The Perfect Comment. Not to mention that a lot of these guides read less like well-meaning advice and more like ��here are 500 rules on how to comment CORRECTLY.’

¹the obvious exception here are negative or downright offensive comments, of course.

___

I also want to express my skepticism about the comment fests I see from time to time here on tumblr (and hence my reluctance to participate in them). Again, I understand that the intention behind these events is a good one. But. If what creators really want is conversation, exchange, a sense of community—is the gamification of commenting really going to bring that about? Do writers—and I ask this with complete sincerity and genuine curiosity—really want to receive 5, 10, 20 one-word or emoji comments because someone needs to fulfill their "commenting quota" for the day? Is that the kind of interaction we want to encourage? Isn't one heartfelt, specific comment (doesn't even need to be a long one!) that actually engages with a text much more meaningful than one of those drive-by comments where it's often dubious whether the person leaving it has even read the story they're commenting on? On the other hand, I do understand that if the alternative is zero comments, any sort of recognition would feel gratifying.

I don't have a solution here, but I personally don't think that turning commenting into something that feels like a chore to be ticked off a to-do list is it. Participation in fandom should not feel like a job. And yes, believe me, I am well aware that I am writing all this as someone who has never exposed herself to the terrifying vulnerability of publishing a story on the internet where it can either be picked apart by strangers or, perhaps worse, simply be ignored. As I mentioned at the beginning, I don't presume to judge in the slightest how much or what kind of feedback authors should or should not want or expect. All I'm saying is that if the desired reader response doesn't materialize—which is a terrible thing and I feel for every author who goes through this—the reaction in turn cannot be to shame readers into interaction or even insult them as “worthless” to the community.

Finally. At the end of their (very good) post, the author writes the following:

The discussion I linked at the beginning of this post is what I think of as the fandom I miss, the fandom that's now harder and harder to access, the fandom that is dying.

Here's the thing, though. Discussions like the one the author refers to and yearns for are basically impossible to have these days. People keep asserting that they want community, but very few actually want to talk let alone listen to each other—at least not unless the conversation is exclusively about repeating and reaffirming views that coincide with their own and opinions that they already hold. “Discourse” has become a bad word. People go on and on about "curating their fandom experience," and more power to them if that's what makes them happy. But it's not without a certain irony that so many will lament a lack of communication and exchange of ideas, mourn dying fandoms, and complain about the barren wastelands of their tumblr dashboards, while at the same time bragging about blocking anyone and everyone who disagrees with them even slightly and on the most inconsequential of topics. They are welcome to do that of course, and let me be very clear, nobody needs to entertain assholes or put up with abusive behavior or offensive language, but curating every single critical or even just slightly differing opinion right out of your experience does not make for a diverse or healthy communication culture.

If locking yourself away in private discord servers and only staying inside your bubble of 100% like-minded people is all you want from your fandom experience then you're absolutely entitled to do so. But the bubbles keep getting smaller and smaller and so we shouldn't be surprised if, one day soon, the larger fandom community will indeed be well and truly dead.

This is all over the place, and I have no grand conclusion to offer, I'm simply working through my feelings here. I will stop now. To the three people who've made it this far: Thank you for either indulging me or politely ignoring me. Feel free to agree or disagree. Who knows? In the end, it may even turn into an actual conversation.

[sskk-manifesto]

(*・ω・*)b♪

[aha-chuu]

Super disappointed by the new Dan Heng IL trailer btw like no high cloud quintet lore, hardly any actual DHIL and yeah Long lore but eh... You can read a lot of it in game already

[just-jammin]

sorry for the fuckton of nijisanji en rbs

like holy fuck how did i get into this rabbithole—

[astralazuli]

hey, hi, I'm not gonna be able to make it today, yeah, no, I'm really busy having intense gender feelings & also a sleep attack

[cntloup]

Gojo Satoru x pregnant!reader

protective!Satoru, fluff, a lil angst, mention of feeling guilty, implied heavy symptoms experienced by the reader

"it's ok, baby. i've got it." Satoru says as he approaches your slouched form over the sink, washing the dishes as you try to get something done and make yourself useful.

you've been feeling guilty during the past month or so, feeling like you were a burden to him, thinking that you would never live up to his expectations. now he has to take care of you. and as time goes by, it will get even worse as your pregnancy progresses. but he's a busy man with heavy responsibilities. you'd be only holding him back. you torture yourself with these thoughts every day.

"oh, thanks. i'll go clean up the living room and do the laundry then." you respond with a forced smile, trying to mask the guilt that's been gnawing at you for a while as you try to keep yourself from falling over out of dizziness.

"what? no, wait! i'll do it after i wash the dishes. you go get some rest. you've done enough." he retorts while gently grabbing your arm, voice slightly raised to stop you immediately.

he is in utter disbelief at your behavior. you should be resting right now, tucked in beneath the soft sheets peacefully. you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about anything, he thinks.

"i haven't done anything all day." you utter in a faintly frustrated tone, mostly at yourself.

"and that's exactly how it should be." he replies with a nod, "now go to bed before i drag you there myself." he adds, maintaining a playful tone, a soft smile adorning his features as he drinks in your beauty. you're already glowing. but considering how observant he is, he senses your discomfort immediately like he can actually feel the gloom and sorrow you're feeling right now like a mother hen.

"what is it, baby? tell me." he murmurs as he walks up to you and pulls you into him by your hips, shining blue eyes staring at you as he awaits a response.

his hand rests on your side as the other cups your jaw, his thumb swiping over your cheek that could be dampened any moment now as you feel tears threatening to spill.

"i'm so sorry." you whisper breathily, voice slightly quivering with the lump in your throat as you look up into his glowing eyes.

"for what?" he asks, confusion evident on his features.

"for being weak. i'm so sorry to disappoint you." you finally spill out the words that have been weighing heavily on your chest as the tears cascade down your glossy eyes.

"disappoint me? i don't understand... why are you crying, love?" he mutters with a shake of his head, his confusion growing even more by your words as his fingers swipe over your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears.

"you're literally the strongest and you're stuck with me. i'm barely even showing yet and i'm feeling extreme fatigue. i've been sleeping all day for the past month cause i can't do anything. and because of the symptoms, i'll probably have to quit my job." you ramble about the thoughts that have been pulling you down all this time.

"wait, wait, wait! how long have you been feeling like this?" he questions with widened eyes baring into your soul.

"eversince we found out i was pregnant. i can't stop feeling guilty about disappointing you." you reply quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it. of course you know you're being irrational. it's all natural to be tired during this time and need help, but you just can't help it.

"you've been feeling like this all this time and you didn't tell me anything?" he blurts out almost too aggressively to his liking, "sorry. didn't mean it to come out that way." he quickly apologizes after witnessing the slight flinch on your part.

how could he not see it? you've been trying to do the chores like regular, pushing yourself to your limit both in the house and on your job until he swoops in and takes the weight off your shoulders. now he starts to blame himself for not finding out sooner and letting you wallow in your own sadness and guilt all alone.

"you're not weak, baby. you're doing the one thing that i can't possibly ever do. the one thing that the strongest can't do. and what does that make you? huh? you're literally the strongest of all, babe. i can't even fathom what you're going through and you're doing amazing-", "i'm barely functioning." you cut him off.

"i'm not done yet, babe." he says playfully before continuing, "you're doing amazing, honey. you sleep not because you can't do anything else but because you need it. you're carrying our child for fuck's sake. a literal human's life is growing inside you and of course it takes its toll on you. and i'm right here beside you every step of the way." he finishes his loving speech with a tender kiss on your forehead as his strong arms wrap around your now slightly shaking form as you sob, utterly moved by his words and also the hormones.

"thank you, Satoru. i really appreciate it. you always know what to say when i'm feeling down." your words are cut off by loud sobs but he patiently waits for you to finish as he rubs your back soothingly while nuzzling his face in your neck.

"any time, baby. i love you." he whispers in your ear, "i love you too, toru." you say back, continuing to sob in his arms for a while before you eventually calm down and he guides you to bed, encouraging you to take some much-needed rest.

"and don't worry about your job. you can take some time off or quit altogether. i have more than enough to pay for our family and the next generations to come-", "ok, stop bragging!" you chuckle, "i'm just saying, baby. i've been dying to spoil you. now's my chance. let me take care of you. you don't have to go through this alone. in fact, i won't even let you." he chuckles lightly and crashes his lips onto yours, pulling away with a loud smack as you both lay in bed, limbs tangled together, "you already spoil me." you mention with a slight pout, "and i'm gonna do it even more. you deserve it, baby. don't worry about anything. i've got it." he says while softly caressing your cheek, admiring your glowing beauty illuminated by the faint bedside light.

you slowly start to feel the sleep creeping in and drift away into a slumber as you mumble a quiet 'thank you', curling into Satoru's side as he holds you so lovingly while you think to yourself how you've been blessed with the best, most loving and supportive partner anyone could ever ask for.

[nyxvuxoa-writes]

Hello, may I request a #15 with Sergei Kravinoff from the prompts?

Thank you.

You got it hon. I hope this hits the spot for you. ★

𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚

Sergei Kravinoff x Submissive!F!Reader

◢ Genre: Prompt Request — Suitable For Adults Only. Minors will be blocked.

◢ Warnings: 18+ only, please. AFAB Reader. PWP (maybe slight plotting, mostly smut). Angst. The reader is referred to as a property of sorts. Submissive reader. Reader being defiant. Being dominated by Sergei. Manhandling of the reader. Sexual Choking (don't try unless you know what you are doing). Ripping clothes off reader. P-in-V. Dirty Talk. Orgasm denial. Internal ejaculation.

◢ Word Count: 1.6K

◢ A/N: Gif was made by me, please credit me if you use it. Likes are enjoyed. Reblogs are always greatly appreciated. And I am always down to hear what you think.

2K Follower Prompt List

"I'm not your property." You spit at him, an anger in your voice that continued the argument that was already going on. Sergei turns to look at you. There was confusion on his face. His brow furrows heavily. The tension in his shoulders spreads through his body. He lets out a heavy breath, and you can see the way his muscles move heavily with movements. The Russian was taken aback by your words.

"Since when?" He growls at you. "Since I say so. I'm in charge of me. Not you."

Sergei blinks, his head tilting slightly. He was trying to process your words, and they weren't sinking in. Since the start of your relationship with him, it had been clear where your place was with him. He was in charge. He says jump and you are supposed to say 'yes sir, how high'. But today, he might have struck a nerve with you that sent you into this state. Maybe you just needed a good reminder of how this relationship with him worked. Reaching up, Sergei runs his fingers over his lips, thinking.

"You have one chance to correct yourself." He says.

Those were words you had never heard out of his mouth. But your arms crossed in defiance. You stand your ground, putting your foot down on the matter. He could read the brat in your body language. It would be a lie to say that a part of him wasn't turned on by it. You were normally such a good girl, and here you were with your big girl panties on thinking that you could call the shots simply because you were frustrated with him. Angry even. Eventually, he might realize that he was an asshole, but right now the only thing he could focus on was putting you back into your place. To hear you moaning and pining for him like the simple creature you are.

It's a matter of seconds and his left hand is around your throat. He catches you off guard and you reach up, grabbing at his arm. Your eyes go wide, but you don't feel unsafe. You have never felt unsafe with the man, and truthfully he'd never hurt you. Not in a way you didn't enjoy, anyway. You can feel his fingers pressing into the sides of your neck. He's limiting the blood flow, causing you to feel a weirdly euphoric feeling. You tense and relax at the same time. His eyes meet yours with an intense stare and before you have the chance to respond, Sergei is gripping your shirt with his free hand. You hear the sound of ripping fabric from your body. He shreds it with ease, removing it from your body, and exposing your upper half.

A slight smirk comes to his face. You can see the corner of his mouth twitch slightly at the sight of you like this. He likes it, feeling the authority over you coursing through his veins like a slight adrenaline high. He backs you up against the wall, his hand pinning you by your neck to it. His free hand goes to your panties, ripping the sides of them and removing them from you. You feel as thin fabric slides down the inside of your legs and to the floor at your feet. For that brief moment, you both stare at each other.

It wasn't the first time you had been manhandled by the brute, but it was the first time in this situation. You feel your mind slipping into a state of submission, realizing that he was about to correct the poor choice of words that came from you. The hand against your throat loosens slightly before it tightens again. His free hand moves to his black pants, freeing himself from it. Sergei's hard, already at attention, and aching to remind you exactly where you belong. You can feel your mouth water in anticipation and you're already becoming slick between your legs. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. The emotions went from angry and frustrated to, utter desire to feel that correction. All it took was the simple actions of a hand around your throat and that piercing gaze to lock with yours.

His movements are quick as you feel the hand go from your throat to your hips. He lifts you up with ease, positioning you quickly so that he can thrust himself up into you. You feel a wave of heat wash over your body as your skin becomes sensitive. He fills you quickly, bringing your hips to his as his entire length presses into you. He slams you against the wall slightly, growling as he feels the way your body flexes around him. You let out a moan that causes Sergei to growl against the crook of your neck. This wasn't about you, but he still wanted to hear those moans. They fueled him to start pumping into with an aggressive nature.

Your hands go to brace themselves, but you feel like you don't know where to put them. They grip his arms, his shoulders. You try and hold on as he starts to pump away. The sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the room. You can't contain the noises coming from your lips as you start to moan louder, and louder with each almost slightly painful thrust between your legs. He was using your hole for his own pleasure, making sure you were aware that it was his. Your body is his. Your mind is his. He was going to do with it as he pleased. You weren't going to stand there and tell him that you weren't his. You brought out that deeply primal dom in his body, he was making sure you felt it and knew it.

The louder you became, the harder he started to thrust. You could feel the base of him meeting at your swollen cunt, that tease of sensation that caused your body to tremble in his strong grip. He noticed it, growling at you slightly. His fingertips pressed into your thighs and lower ass with every intention of leaving little painful bruises for you to remember later.

"Don't you dare cum." He growled into your ear. "You haven't earned that." He added.

"But..." You went to plead with him as your tone whimpers for him. Were you even going to be able to stop yourself from doing that? He growled again, pressing you against the wall a little more. His head shakes with a no.

"Whose hole is that?" He asks deeply, groaning slightly. "Y-yours!" You cry out, feeling a hard thrust up into you. "Say it again." He snaps at you. "It's yours! My hole is yours!" You say, your fingers pressing into his skin as you continue to try and brace yourself.

He growls again, moaning at the end of it, almost as if he was approving of what was said without having to say it. He adjusts himself slightly, moving your weight so that he can stop thrusting. He moves your body for you, bouncing you along his length with such ease, his hand bracing you with your thighs a little more. He was using you, every bit of you for his own satisfaction. You could feel the tension in his shoulders and arms. You can tell there were bruises already starting to form from his fingers.

You do your best to hold off a finish, feeling as sweet spots were hit. Your body can't help but tremble, which adds fuel to his fire. He bounces you faster, harder, using how he moved your body to milk himself into you. Being with him long enough made it easy to read his body language, and he was starting to reach that finish with a goal in mind. You wanted so badly to finish with him, to finish at all, but the idea of him telling you that you weren't allowed sent a need through your mind. Let him use you, let him get that point across and maybe, just maybe you can earn a finish later.

Sergei's growling and moaning become more intense, becoming more frequent as he feels that building pressure. He wasn't holding back. That wasn't the point of any of this. He was going to be clear about where you stood in this relationship with him. He felt that heavy twitch in his cock, and his fingers press even harder into your skin as he braces you against the wall once more and buries himself deeply in between your legs. Your fingers press into his skin, nails digging into him as you fight off the urge to finish with him. You can feel his seed start to fill you, the warmth of it seeping out between the flesh that met his. He pressed as deeply as he could, twitching heavily as he made sure you took every last drop of him.

A hand moves back to your neck as he pulls from you. There is a mess between your legs, you can feel it. He lowers you back to your feet, the hand moving to grip your jaw and he forces you to look deeply into his eyes. At first, there is silence. You both stare at each other as he observes the way you are going to react to him, to all of this. There is no negative reaction, maybe a slight look of shock, but you can feel this deeper connection with him. That frustrated brat mode had faded away, and you're putty in his hands.

"You're mine." He says, making sure that the words are loud and clear. "You're mine in every sense of the term. Don't think I am done correcting you. I'm not."

Extra Tags: @voxmortuus

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 9

in which we find out how the morning after went for fem!reader. you finally share with spencer after unanticipated anxieties come up. you're continually shocked by his affection for you.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ (angst, fluff) warnings/tags: (preface none of the bad stuff is done by spencer) sexual harassment, slut shaming, non consensual voyeurism of sorts, blood + pain from losing virginity, talk of rape (nothing like that actually happens), implied nonspecific age gap (someone says he looks slightly older than you) non sexual nudity, showering together, intimacy, ewww being in love is embarrassing a/n: I honestly was not gonna post this today but I decided to bc it's just Tumblr its not that deep also you can probably tell I am just creating problems bc I don't wanna let go of them...... ik this is supposed to be a smutty series btw and trust good things come to those who wait!!!but anyways idk what I'm doing and I kinda hate this!! lolol!!!

Friday morning

The air is thick when you wake up—the angle of the sun through the window is lower than usual, and the binding weight of your limbs as you struggle to stretch in place all suggest that you’ve slept in. 

But you don’t check the time quite yet—for a moment, you simply lie there, studying the pattern on your ceiling, downloading the events of the previous night. 

Flashes of skin on skin, lips, breaths, whispers, promises. Phantom sensations. 

Was it even real?

Your apartment is deafeningly silent, you realize. And you have that sinking sense, which you can’t quite explain but know to be true—that you are alone. Spencer is gone. You can’t feel him like you’d be able to if he were simply on the couch or in the kitchen. He’s definitely not in bed with you, and the sheets have long gone cold. 

The truth of it renders about as slowly as your sluggish consciousness does, and you frown, not quite sure what to do with that information. Should you be angry? Should you cry?

Mostly you’re confused. 

As soon as you sit up, sore thighs and abs and a strange ache between your legs confirm that last night was not a dream nor a figment of your imagination. You’ll figure out what to do about your twinging body in a moment—for now you rub your eyes and blindly reach for the bedside table, knocking several things to the ground in your quest for your phone. 

It’s not there, you realize, once you actually try to use your eyes. It’s not in bed with you either as you pat the sheets, and it doesn’t materialize as you sit on your knees and shake out the comforter. 

From this venture, however, you learn two things. First, Spencer must’ve taken it upon himself to get you dressed last night, which you have no recollection of, but you doubt you sleepwalked your way into underwear and a big t-shirt; and second—you bled. 

It wasn’t something you were thinking about in the moment, but now, faced with all the evidence and none of the pleasure of last night’s activities, it’s jarring. A stark, unforgiving archipelago of red on a pristine sea of white. 

People say, at its best, sex brings couples closer. Spencer once told you it could facilitate feelings of deeper connection. But here you are, no longer a virgin, and what do you have to show for it? A stronger bond with your boyfriend? He’s not even here. 

All you have is this glaring red stain marring perfectly good sheets. It mocks you, like something you’ve dropped and can’t pick back up. You can’t think looking at it, and you need to think, and so in a fit of frustration you’re pulling the comforter onto the floor, leaning over your mattress and yanking the fitted sheet free. You ball it up in your hands, breathing heavily—and realize you bled through to the mattress. 

Wonderful. 

Spencer’s just at work, you tell yourself, grabbing the first pair of shorts you see and pulling them on before gathering the ruined sheet once more and stomping on aching legs through your apartment to the hallway, not even bothering with shoes. He can’t just play hooky because his clingy girlfriend lost her virginity and needs to be comforted like some previously celibate high school cheerleader.

But you miss him so much it’s making you angry, so much your eyes are stinging and welling with tears of frustration as you shove your bed linens down the trash chute at the end of your floor’s hallway. You’re supposed to be independent. That’s how you’ve always been. Since when does it bother you to wake up alone? It’s just sex. It’s not as big a deal for him as it is for you. Or for anyone. You’re the one overreacting, you’re the one who expects too much. He works for the FBI, for god’s sake. There are people dying, and here you are—

“What’chya got there?”

The gruff voice makes you jump, and you turn around just as the bundle is disappearing down into the hole in the wall. It’s your neighbor, Jerry—the one in the unit right next to you. You’re not happy to see him, especially like this. He’s got a blue 5 o’clock shadow despite the hour, and is clad in ill-fitting gray sweats and a pair of ratty slippers. His distended belly strains at the confines of an oil-stained white shirt, tied with a dingy checkered robe. You barely meet his drooping eyes before looking longingly back at your cracked door down the hall. 

“Just… garbage.” You shift your weight, hiding a wince as you try to find a comfortable position to stand in. Jerry notices this, and you wish his eyes wouldn’t linger on your bare legs like that. 

“Huh. Looks like someone had a late night.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s just noon and you’re still in your PJ’s.”

Disgusting. And who the fuck is he to judge? At least your pajamas are clean. 

You shrug. “Yeah.”

He scratches his bald head. 

“So that boy tired you out pretty good, huh?”

Your stomach drops. Your brain freezes. 

When you don’t reply, he takes the liberty of continuing on. 

“Saw him sneaking out of your apartment in the middle of the night. He looked a little older ’n you. You like ’em older?” His laugh is a cruel bark. “Yeah… He’s a lucky man. You know, it’s natural for a man to like a younger girl. Fresh meat, ’n all.” You try to speak and can only swallow a gag. Jerry adjusts his stance, hands in pockets like he’s telling you a local news story. “Heard some of it. Sounded like you were putting on quite the show. And sure, a young pretty thing like you? Hell, I would if I could. But I’ll tell you right now, you don’t wanna end up like my daughter. She wasn’t as pretty as you, but still—three kids with three men by the time she was 24. She should'a kept her damn legs closed. You know, she loved to cry rape, but you gotta ask yourself, if your legs are open all the damn time, what do you expect? Back in the day we all knew girls like that—” he bats the air dismissively. “Guess you can’t call ’em sluts anymore—they get what they’re asking for one way or another. See, I think everyone still knows it and they’re just too afraid to say it. So my advice: don’t let yourself get used up, you hear me? Not by men who are gonna ride you hard and put you away wet. So to speak. Men can smell a girl like that from a mile away, and they’ll take it as an open invitation. It’s just human nature.”

When he finally stops talking, the hallway fills with a vacuous silence. It makes your ears ring. Several moments pass, but you’re frozen. Your whole body feels intolerably hot but your blood is freezing. How are you supposed to react? 

“Hello?” He says, voice loud enough to hurt your ears as it echoes. 

Get out of here, your more rational self says to the rest of you, and you mumble something, you don’t even know what, excusing yourself to hurry on stiff legs back down the hall to your door. 

Once inside, you do up every lock on your door, and face your apartment, shoulders tensed practically to your ears and fists clenched so tight your arms are trembling. On autopilot you look around for something to do, but there’s nothing. More importantly, nobody.

I’ll call Spencer. He’ll know what to do. 

No, you won’t, your higher self reminds you. You lost your phone. And besides, it’s clearly not like he wanted to stick around last night. Maybe he doesn’t even like you anymore. 

So you’re stuck here. Stranded. Sharks can smell blood. 

Processing that information, you walk back to your bedroom and close the door behind you—before promptly sinking to the ground and burying your face in the duvet with a deep, silent sob.  

That goes on for a few minutes until you realize you’re too achy and you can’t breathe and you’re forced onto your side, curling up in your blanket on the floor like it’s a nest and not a burial plot. 

You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. A relationship can’t implode twice in 24 hours.  You don’t have your phone. Maybe he’s texted you. 

But is that really all you’re worth? A text sent after the fact? He couldn’t sacrifice a few hours to sleep by your side? Couldn’t even wake you up to say goodbye? You think about the sweet things he’d said afterward—the way he held you, fingers dancing down your spine. Promises he made when you were half asleep in his arms, so sure he’d be there when you woke up. 

Even fucking Jerry the neighbor—who you think might have just sexually harassed you in the hallway—said Spencer should’ve stuck around. 

Fuck. 

No, don’t think about that. It doesn’t even matter. They were just words. 

Heard some of it. Sounded like you put on quite the show. 

Your skin crawls and your stomach turns as you hold yourself tighter. Something that was supposed to be private and special—and some random man not only had a front row seat to your deflowering but felt comfortable talking about it with you. It feels like a violation. Like he crashed a really important party. If you had known you had an audience last night, you never would’ve done it. 

The way he looked at you, tracing your legs with his eyes like he was touching you—

You scramble up from the floor and walk heavily on your knees to the dresser, digging up a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. You should be showering, but you don’t want to deal with your body right now. You just want to hide. 

Friday evening—present

After your conversation, Spencer seems eager to make sure the car ride to his apartment is not reminiscent of the car ride to yours last night—he holds your hand, resting in your lap, bringing your knuckles to his lips at a red light. Every few moments he glances over at you, maybe to appreciate the view (though you doubt it’s especially scenic at the moment) or perhaps to gauge your mood. The further away you get from your apartment building the better you feel, and you try to focus on that. Sure—maybe you had a shit day, but Spencer’s here now, and he didn’t leave you after all. In fact, since finding your phone, you’ve seen the series of very sweet and highly concerned messages he sent over the course of a few hours. They almost make your stomach hurt. It would’ve been really nice to have those earlier. 

He doesn’t ask you any more of the hard questions, but you sense an inquisition in the works and getting closer with every curious glance he gives you. It’s like he’s unwrapping you, layer by layer, using his impressive cognitive faculties to drill through your skull into your brain and deeper still into your soul. 

Back in his apartment you sit awkwardly on the bed. Last time you’d been here, things hadn’t gone so well for you. 

The shower starts in the adjoined bathroom, and Spencer comes out a moment later, warm light seeping into the darkened bedroom. Purple and dark blue mixing with yellow, like a bruise. 

“Hey. Water’s warm.”

You hum, smoothing the material of his neatly made bed with your palm and watching the way it flattens. That had been your doing. You may have thought he was on the verge of breaking up with you last time you slept here, but you didn’t want to leave his home a mess. Didn’t want to leave any evidence of your having been here. 

A moment passes. You thumb at a thread and don’t look up. 

Spencer crosses the space without a word and crouches in front of you, hands coming up to cup the back of your legs, running knee to ankle and up again. 

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Please?” He asks softly. His voice wrings your heart out. Now that you’re in a completely different space, and you’re not so alone anymore, you’re struggling to sort out your feelings. It should be fine. You’re with Spencer. Presumably he still loves you. 

And you still feel terrible. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you whisper. 

“I know,” he says, just as quietly. 

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. I know you don’t want to—and yet. Your lips twist to the side. He’s persistent. Even in his kindness. It’s not the kind of care that falters or buckles when you try turning it away. 

“My neighbor said he c—” 

You’re forced to stop, frowning by how overcome you are. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Worse things have happened to you. 

“He said he could hear us. Last night.”

Spencer’s hands stop on your legs. You can’t meet his eyes. You’re afraid whatever you find there won’t be the right thing. 

“He’s in the unit next to you?”

You nod. “We share a wall.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation and your stomach sinks. He doesn’t understand. 

“What did he say?”

“Just… dumb shit,” you scoff, fiercely wiping away a stray tear. “He said he listened and it sounded like I was putting on quite the show. And then he—and then he told me not to let you… use me up, whatever that means. He called me fresh meat, and said I shouldn’t let you ride me hard and put me away wet, and bad things happen to sluts who can’t keep their legs closed.”

You finish with a sharp inhale, briefly leaning down and covering your face with your hands when you realize how upset you really are. You want to hide it. 

A fraught moment passes. Spencer reaches for your hands, no doubt to try and pull them away from your face. You spare him the trouble, sitting up with a cavalier sniff before he can touch you and brushing your hair behind your ears.  

His voice is uncomfortably quiet. You can’t look at him. “Baby…”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I only told you because you asked.”

It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyway, and so you avoid eye-contact like it’s the plague. Maybe it’s just safe to be mad at him. Maybe he knows that. 

Regardless, you’re not in the mood for coddling. It’s borderline repulsive—like trying to mix oil and water. Anything good slides right off of you because maybe you’re not designed to be able to absorb good things.

Nothing changes for a minute—and then he’s standing, offering you a moment alone as he goes to crank the shower off. 

As soon as he’s gone all the air is vacuumed from your lungs and you crumple, heaving it back in silently as your head spins and your heart races. It’s like your mind is split in two—half is primal, overwhelming panic, and the other a cold observatory eye, full of disdain and scorn for what it deems a severe overreaction to a few nasty comments made hours ago. You’re so tangled up as you curl in on yourself on your side that you can’t even cry. You’re just trying to remember how to breathe, ignoring the crawling feeling up your spine and the tingling heat at the back of your neck. The shower stops on the downbeat of your staggered breath, and then it’s silent. He’ll come back at any minute and see what a mess you’ve become. 

You’ve ruined everything. If only you could’ve kept it to yourself. 

When Spencer reappears in the doorway, and sees you collapsed and curling like paper burnt at the edges, he’s quick to return to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you manage, trying and failing to brush away hair from your cheek, which is wet—so you were crying—and Spencer shushes you, pushing it away for you as he kneels. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m being dramatic, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Of course, at the end of that declaration, a sob wrenches its way from the depths of you, so bright and cleaving you half expect the smell of ozone to follow. You follow it with a blisteringly self-deprecating laugh.

“Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t minimize it.”

His hand is warm where it rests over your cheek, affectionate, but he sounds frustrated. You frown and sniffle. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell me his name.” 

It’s a quiet request, made as gently as his hand cards through the hair at your temple like it’s woven with fragile threads of gold.

“No, Spencer,” you beg, anxiety pooling in your gut and rising in your throat, “please, I don’t want to make it a thing, I don’t want you to talk to him. You’ll just make it worse, it’s fine.”

You look at him imploringly, eyes wide and still welling, hoping to god the gravity of your plead will sink in. His are a bed of coals—somewhere between furious and sympathetic, and you try to appeal to the sympathy. 

“It is not fine. Saying sluts get what’s coming to them is not fine, that is a threat, and I’m not going to talk to him. I’m going to have him fucking arrested.”

You scoff. 

“For talking to me? Yeah, good luck with that. Cops are really known for being helpful when it comes to sexual harassment.”

“Baby. Men who are comfortable violating your boundaries like that are exponentially more likely to commit an actual violent crime. That is not a safe person for you to be around.”

“He’s not gonna rape me, Spencer! He’s just a gross old man! This is why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you’d make it a bigger deal than it is! You did it last night and you’re doing it now—you think everyone is out to get me!”

To his credit, he doesn’t so much as raise his voice. 

“Of course it’s a big deal. You’re upset.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my own fault.”

Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. Spencer goes silent for a moment. 

“It’s your fault?”

“Yes. It’s my fault because… because now everyone knows that I’m…”

His voice goes impossibly soft again. “Knows that you’re what?”

“I mean, what did I expect?” You sniffle. “It’s an apartment. If I didn’t want to deal with the consequences, I shouldn’t’ve done it.”

He says your name like it’s a ring he twists around his finger as he tries to think—to gather the right words. 

“The consequences for having sex do not involve punishment or sexual harassment.”

“It’s the result of my actions, so—”

“No, it’s the result of your neighbor being disgusting. I don’t care what he heard, he doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”

“He—”

“If you heard something you weren’t supposed to hear would you bring it up to the person the next day?”

“Stop interrupting me,” you plead. Spencer looks like he has something to say to that, too, but he swallows it. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I… understand that he shouldn’t have said those things to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he did, and it was really, really uncomfortable and I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna go back now. Maybe that’s dramatic, but…”

You trail off, studying the ceiling as a fresh wash of tears dampen your cheeks. Spencer’s hand slides down your waist as you wipe your face. “I don’t regret the fact that we slept together. I just regret everything that’s happened since, and if I didn’t do it last night, none of this would’ve happened. I feel like he ruined everything.”

The words end on another cry and you put your hand over your eyes like you could stop it all from coming out. You sniffle. Spencer is quiet for a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually whispers, his own voice threaded with emotion. “I…”

He sighs. You push your hair back and look at him. 

“What?”

He studies you, chewing on his lip like a nervous tick you’ve never seen before. You sit up again, feet balanced on the edge of the bed frame. Spencer’s eyes remain stuck on you. Again, you ask, “What?”

“I didn’t think about it until you brought it up earlier, but—I did see someone. Him, I think, when I went out to my car to get my bag. He was smoking when I came out, and when I got back into the lobby he was waiting for the elevator. We took it up together, he—he said something to me, so I know he saw me going back to you. I don’t know why he made it sound like I left.”

You frown. “What did he say?”

Spencer hesitates. 

“He asked if I had a long night. He was obviously commenting on the fact that I was basically half-dressed and getting an overnight bag from my car at one in the morning, so he could probably gather from context what was going on, but… my point is, he knew I came back and it seems like he was almost trying to make you think I didn’t. So for whatever reason, maybe he was lying about being able to hear you, too. Maybe he just wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s a long shot, Spencer.”

“I know, but… it’s not that long. He obviously gets off on it—and besides, he said you were putting on a show, but you weren’t… you weren’t loud, last night.”

Heats blossoms in your cheeks and you look down at your lap. “Thin walls.”

“Have you ever heard your neighbors before?”

You have to seriously think about it. 

“I’ve heard them yelling…”

“Nothing else?”

Again, you consider it. The answer comes as a surprise. 

“No.”

“Okay, so… does that maybe help a little bit? I really, really don’t want you to feel like last night was a mistake in any way, or let anyone ruin it for you.”

You breathe deeply. “I know. It… it kinda helps, yeah.”

His hands come to the top of your legs. There’s so much genuine care and concern in his eyes. “Yeah?”

Only when you nod does he relax some. His hands skim your thighs, and you set yours on top of his own. For a few breaths, it’s quiet. And then you laugh. 

“What?” Spencer asks, a tentative smile curling his own lips like he doesn’t know if he should be concerned or participate in your mirth. 

“I—I don’t know how to say it without being cheesy,” you admit, sniffling the last of your tears away and smiling softly down at him. 

“I think you should say it.”

You link your fingers with his on your lap, watching the way they twine like it’s what they were meant to do. 

“I was just thinking about how I had, like, the worst day ever. And how much worse it would’ve gotten if you didn’t show up when you did—I would’ve completely spiraled. But you did show up. And how easy it is to kind of compartmentalize, because I have you, and when I’m with you… nothing feels as hard. You make the bad things feel smaller, I guess.”

By the end, it got a lot more real than you’d intended, and your face feels warm, and your stomach is sort of floaty—but you don’t look away from Spencer. You hold his gaze, though it makes you a little nervous, because you want him to know you mean it. 

He inhales, like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t—only looks at you, like you’re beautiful and impossible and a defiance of everything he thought he knew, which was almost everything. To him, you’re expansive. A gorgeous anomaly.

And then he stands, holding his hands out for you. Without question you take them, and he pulls you to your feet, absorbing the momentum that threatens to topple you, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. So tight you have to laugh. 

“I love you,” he says against your shoulder, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 

Your humor softens, but doesn’t become inflexible—still tinges your words with the perfect amount of euphoria and relief. “I love you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and your laughter flares again. 

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I’m grateful. I… I feel lucky.”

Always so earnest, so vulnerable, when you’re least expecting it—which should be always, you’re learning. You pull back to look up at him. You don’t want that concession to go unrewarded. 

“Me too,” you say softly. He’s doing that fond thing with his eyes, where they’re all soft and it’s like he’s trying to take in every millimeter of your face. This time when he goes to touch your hair, you have the wherewithal to dodge it. 

“You’re really brave for trying to touch my hair right now.”

“Why?” He asks, utterly bewildered, and the softness of the moment falls away easily, but not without leaving everything smudged and fuzzy around the edges. Everything is still okay. It’s still good. 

“Because it’s dirty,” you laugh, dodging him again and eventually ducking from the circle of his arms entirely. 

“Oh, your hair is dirty? Should we breakup?”

“Hm. I don’t really like when you take on that tone with me.” You’re still half-laughing, dipping and weaving past him toward the bathroom as he tries to get you in his arms again. And then you stop, toes just short of the tile. 

“What is it?” He asks after another moment. You blink, looking at the shower head as it drips. 

“Um—would it be okay if I had a five minute headstart in the shower?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I just… I need a minute.”

His hand skims your waist as he passes by you through the open door. “Okay. Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll get the water going again?”

Soon enough, you’re remembering how much better his water pressure is than yours as you stand under the torrent, eyes closed as if in prayer. You definitely could’ve stood to shower earlier in the day. But you had other concerns, earlier, and besides—you were afraid of what you might find. 

And you were right to be. The sex was nice. The aftermath isn’t quite as pretty. 

When Spencer taps on the bathroom door, you’re nervous. 

“You can come in,” you call. 

“You sure? If you want it all to yourself, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

The door creaks open, and gently clicks into place again, and fabric rustles as he undresses, and soon the shower curtain is sliding aside and he’s stepping in. Unsurprisingly, the space feels smaller with him in it—but not small in a bad way. It feels warmer. Again you’re awash in that safe feeling, which you didn’t realize you’d been missing so much today. 

“Hi,” he smiles, a teasing sliver of what you know to be the most brilliant light in the world, and stunning like the rest of him as you watch the water begin to darken his hair. 

“Hello.”

His smile flickers briefly wider like you’re his favorite thing and he just can’t contain his joy, and then it’s easing again, giving you a moment to catch your breath. 

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

In this alien context the idea has your heart pounding—you don’t really understand the concept of casual nudity yet, but you know he’ll respect your earlier wishes to keep it chaste and so you nod. 

Spencer doesn’t take you immediately in his arms like you’d expected—instead his hands find a rest at your collarbones and carefully push your wet hair back over your shoulders—but his eyes aren’t cast quite low enough to be indecent. They connect dots over your chest and neck, and he thumbs at one just over your pulse point. 

“Oh, man,” he laughs, and you think you detect a hint of self-deprecation. “That’s… wow, I didn’t realize I… sorry. They don’t hurt, do they?”

It’s your turn to smile as he’s suddenly over-concerned. 

“No, they don’t hurt.”

“Good.” He looks relieved, but it doesn’t last as his eyes trace lower—though you don’t sense any hunger in it. He’s just taking you in. “How about everywhere else?”

“Um… it’s not bad. Kind of, like… I don’t know. Sore. But it’s not bad.”

“Still?” He frowns, clearly unfazed by your evident embarrassment on the subject. You shrug and avert your eyes. 

“It’s fine. it was worse earlier, so.”

That does not have the calming effect you’d intended. 

“Worse? 1-10, how—”

“Spencer, it’s fine, I promise. It’s only when I—when I move certain ways, I notice. Honestly the… blood… was way more disconcerting to me.”

“Yeah, I saw your bed… sorry for ruining your sheets. I’ll buy you new ones.”

You shrug, watching the water run in rivulets down your arm and branch off into tributaries and waterfalls from your fingers. “You don’t have to do that. It was a collaborative effort.”

Normally this conversation would have you melting into an embarrassed puddle, but something about the tile cocoon of the shower, the humid fog, the proximity, feels safe. The white noise of water on porcelain, the warmth. You go to him at the same time as he comes to you—his arms around your waist, yours slung over his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. Falling asleep standing up has never seemed so plausible until now. 

He presses a kiss to your head. You sigh. 

“Ugh. I don’t want to deal with washing my hair.”

“I can do it,” Spencer immediately offers. You frown. 

“I was—you don’t have to. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was asking.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It’s a process.”

“I understand.”

“You would have to do it exactly how I say.”

“I am willing to learn. I like taking care of you.”

You’re glad for the hot water, then, and as he washes your hair. You’re not sure if you’re crying at the tenderness of his touch, or the way he loves you like you’re easy to love. You’re too tired to explain it. 

He doesn’t push you, because he never pushes you. 

He just washes your hair. 

[nikovraskol]

I'm curious of other members of batfamily reaction to reader's death? Like Cassandra, Stephanie and Barbara?

i was gonna add them to the first part but i lowkey don't have a good grasp on their characters, pls lmk how i can improve them im working on chapter 3 rn yall, it should be out soon so. >:)

if u saw alfreds part no u didnt i forgot he was dead LMAO

masterlist

cassandra isn't sure how she's supposed to deal with the heavy emotions in her chest. she can tell something is wrong the moment bruce walks in, his whole demeanour spelling tragedy. you've died? oh. a heavy feeling settles in her chest, she's mostly confused. the two of you weren't necessarily close, so why? why does she feel such sadness? such agony? she picks her brain, scowering for ever single memory of you -- your mannerisms she picked up out of habit, she'll find herself walking around your room, sitting in the kitchen every morning at the hour which you used to eat breakfast, she looks around every corner hoping to see the small child you were, peeking around with hopeful eyes. she doesn't like the way her heart clenches when she sees nothing but her own shadow.

stephanie is filled with tremendous guilt, she sits in your room, taking in every nook and cranny, every sign of your personality. she's not officially apart of the family, so she understands on a surface level -- the frustrations you felt. she's left with a memory of what could've been, her mind replaying each interaction with you, what she initially deemed as awkward was in fact just you crying out for help. she's supposed to help people, but when you held out a hand for her, she didn't take it, didn't help, how can she forgive herself? how can she move on?

barbara's been there from the start, she remembers when bruce took in a small child, a child who declined the future of vigilantism. she respected that, she's happy bruce has at least one normal child. but now, staring at your cold, dead body -- she's forced to acknowledge that she shouldn't have brushed you off, she should've understood that there is no such thing as a 'normal' child, you were a child, a child who lurked in the corners of the manor. she helps bruce to track down your killers, she slides jason some information about them. she wants vengeance for you, but how can she get it? your murderers can be thrown in a cell, but they're not the ones who made you suffer, not really.

duke is perplexed, the energy around the manor has completely depleted -- and as he stares at your body, he understands why. as the newest member of the family, he didn't understand you. in a family of greatness, there was you. but despite that, he spoke to you a few times, he remembers how you lit up when he complimented your homework, the way your demeanour shifted from gloomy to excited. why didn't he see the signs? he feels a crushing sorrow, but more than that, with your passing, he's able to see the cracks in the family -- he's able to see how your normalcy was the glue that stuck them together.

[nemesyaaa]

get in, loser || simp!classmate!rafe x mean!popular!reader

summary : admiration ? too light. obssession ? not enough. devotion ? perfect treatment.

warnings : +18 content. minors dni. smut. oral. sub!rafe (boy toy). act of devotion. public masturbation. p in v. verbal humiliation. lollipop. facesitting. mean girls. a lot of teasing. fingers sucking. a bit of cum eating. be aware of the warnings before reading. very pink content, i'm sorry.

author's note : i just wanted to write another thing about them...this is highly depraved.

you never had a boyfriend and you’ve never wanted one because you didn’t know how it would serve you. you already had everything, you didn't need a man by your side to be the center of attention. you were the perfect replica of the mean girls from the cult films of the 2000s. you could just as easily be a Regina George or a Jennifer Check. the world revolved around you, which meant that without you, everything fell apart.

and above all you didn't need a boyfriend because you had a boy toy now. rafe cameron. he was so obedient and docile, well he was especially so because you were a good mistress.

he didn't listen to you because he was afraid of you, but because he would do anything for you. he lived by your rules and your principles.

and today you wanted to have fun. it was the last day of school before the weekend and you were wearing one of his favorite t-shirts, a white tank that allowed him to see the size of your boobs and your perked nipples through the clothing. but above all, you didn't wear a bra so they swayed in slow motion with each of your steps. the way they were slowly bouncing simultaneously pressed together in the fabric while you walked towards him, phone in hand.

you wore a plump gloss which gave volume to your lips, but above all which made your mouth so luscious and shiny.

when you sat next to him, he shifted slightly but mostly stared at you because it wasn't usual. you were always near your girlfriends, you always took care to ignore him in class and even in public. you loved playing with his feelings. as a bitch, you were good at this.

you loved laughing with your girlfriends watching him while knowing he would feel miserable and pathetic because he would never know if it was him you were talking about. you loved getting him hard before going to class just to see him squirm in his chair, and be unable to form two sentences in front of the teacher without stammering. but above all, you loved being cruel, pretending through messages that you were going to touch him, suck him, drive him crazy to finally change your mind in front of him. “oh really? when did i say that? you know, i'm very confused. "

"o-on...by message..."

"are you saying i'm a liar, cameron?" you approached him threateningly, your eyebrows furrowed and your pout upset, forcing him to step back because your heels kicked on the ground was quietly intimidating. “oh you're gonna cry, stupid ? "

he softened himself, thinking that you will be kind to him. his shoulders slumped and he swallowed hard. you slid your mouth next to his ear. “you should, loser. ”

his eyes were in tears as you were playing your favorite game — bully him. sometimes you could be such a whore. but you were also terribly hot and he hated as much as he loved the effect you had on him.

you bust out laughing, before running a hand through his hair to gently pat his head. “I was kidding. don't be mad at me...or let me do something for you..." you pushed his hand into your panties. “do your job. and you better do it well. ”

he shaked his head vividly, as you could feel his fingers making their way to your pussy. he loved being inside you so much, even if it was just his hand. but sometimes you managed to make him so sick because you purposely didn't whine just to make him frustrated. you watched him exhaust himself with a puppy glaze, his completely soaked fingers thrusting in and out, fucking you deep, pooling your own wetness out of your cunt while fingering you. “h-he…lp…” he pleaded, his own saliva running down his chin.

and you stood there with your lips sealed while he moaned against the side of your face because it felt so good. but it was also hard for you to contain all the spasms and pleasure that was coursing through your body. you were forced to control yourself, to not show anything while his fingertips moved back and forth inside your walls, slamming down your canal. his cock was so hard in his pants. it was terribly painful at this point. and you didn't care. all that frustration you inflicted on him, he took it out on the sex doll in his room. all the cum you didn't let him implode was going to be released in this girl's pussy.

today, you sat next to him, placing your bag noisily on his table.

“I thought you didn’t want us to be seen together. " he commented.

" oh don't worry. I told my friends I was doing charity today. " you replied.

class had started and you had a lollipop in your mouth for a few minutes. and you knew very well that Rafe was unable to concentrate on what the teacher was saying when you were sucking that shit so close to him, with your sticky tongue latched on over the candy. you were making discreet but obscene noises. it was a classic cherry lollipop.

his cheeks had heated. you twisted your tongue around the candy, playing with it a little.

your muscle curled around the lollipop like you did so well around his cock, a few dripping licks had been liberally placed while you pretended to concentrate on the lesson.

“get your dick out.“ you ordered. “i want to have fun.”

you didn't need to say it twice before his cock was released, springing free against his thighs. you don't know why you were always so amazed at his size. However, you had already seen it several times. but damn, that was the only thing he could dethrone you on. his heavy cock hung in the air, precum beading at the red tip.

he wore the cock ring that you ordered him to wear. “you're gonna be even bigger, loser. “you encouraged him.

you pushed the lollipop out of your lips to bring it to the glistening tip of his dick. you used the side of the candy to feel the precum wetting the sugar with amusement. you let the substance soak into the candy before letting it run down his erect shaft. you aimed the sweet treat at his penis, tracing the hard veins that ran along his member, while teasing him softly with the edible part of the stick.

you stroked his cock with the lollipop, teasing his entire length. you drove the candy over his hardened cock, watching the blood pressure enlarge his thick veins. the lollipop was so small next to it. when the candy had been completely wet and dripping, between a mixture of cum, sugar and saliva, you had slipped it between Rafe's lips. you pushed it against his tongue, forcing him to gasp over it, before applying pressure to his cheeks with your fingers to watch him swallow.

but you weren't finished, you wanted more. you spat discreetly into your hand before wetting his entire cock. you wanted to please him a little so you gave him this handjob he dreamed of in class. you fisted him up and down, feeling him grow in your grip, while you worked all dick. his balls were hard and heavy, perfectly caged between his legs.

he was trying so badly to hide his urge to moan, his lips were twisted and tense, his teeth buried inside his bottom one. he squirmed in his chair, his tummy twitching hard from the pleasure. you were so good with your hand. while you stroked him, you loved to tighten your fingers around him. it was at this moment that his gasps were more intense and that you started to pump him faster. the speed of your movements let him so weak, as cries rolling down his cheeks.

he was so pretty when he was about to explode. “ is your dick hard for me, or because you're enjoying being a pussy ? ” you murmured right in his ear.

strangely, you let him take your virginity on the same day. after you invited him to your house. and then there was no one at home, no evidence, no traces. no one would know.

“get on the bed. ” you commanded. “ you've got such a pretty face, will you let me sit on it ? i know you will because you will do anything to please me. ”

he obeyed in a second and you undressed. you had taken off all of your clothes before sitting on his face. you had always dreamed of doing this and this was the perfect opportunity.

“now, it's your choice. you can be a good boy that makes me cum with his tongue...or just a good dog that only knows how to lick. show me how you want to be treated. ”

" y-yes...yes..i just want to make you feel good." he just pleaded, before being silenced by the contact of your pussy on his lips.

you were heavy. but in such a good way, he was so turned on by the way you were sitting on him, pressuring the weight of your body on his mouth, making yourself a seat on his face while he was already lapping at your soaked folds, tearing your lips apart with his tongue and starting to licks at your parts. your taste was so sweet, filled with the froth of his saliva. you began to rub yourself, pushing your cunt deeper inside his mouth to muffle his pathetic wimps. his voice was so needy.

as you were fucking his whole face, your asscheeks was brushing his nose, making him even more horny. his dick was thick, literally twitching over his flat tummy. the hard lines of his muscles were swollen.

you couldn't help but moan, but you wouldn't dare saying his name. he was lapping with such devotion, feeding your greedy cunt with needy and fat laps. his tongue was inside you, ruining your walls with appetite. he was drooling at the corner of his mouth, and on the underside of your butt.

it was as if his tongue only belonged inside you. you tried to stay in control even though you couldn't deny the pleasure that consumed you. “It feels so good..." you had escaped, holding your breasts in the palm of your hands.

you gripped the sheets when he started to get wilder in the thrusts of his tongue. your body moved in sync. as he was below you, you took the opportunity to move your ass above him, lightly slapping his face with the jiggles of your cheeks. oh god, he was so pathetic, completely hard being crushed under your weight, having his face below your soaked pussy, being covered in your wetness and drool, having his cock painfully hard and leaking, because his mouth was fucked. you could feel his heavy breath coating the heat of your core.

he had cum all over his own stomach, and you rolled your eyes. it wasn't the first time he came without warning, it was so compulsive for him. he couldn't control it.

you lay down next to him before collecting the cum on his tummy, teasing the sticky white steam with your fingers before plunging them inside your pussy. you filled yourself with his releasing, your two eyes on him, white loads leaking at your entrance. “ are you gonna Fuck me or do I need to make all the job by myself ? ”

“ i-i…”

“ such a pathetic boy, can't even speak properly with his mouth. ”

you spread your legs, and he came closer. he was so needy that he was nervous. his hands were shaking, barely able to hold his throbbing cock. you had to wait a few minutes before he slipped inside you. he whimpered all his way to your walls at the comfort of your pussy around him.

because he couldn't wait any longer, he conducted several forceful thrusts into the deep of your core. he could see his own cum floating with your wetness at the outline of your swollen cunt. his cries was loud as he pounded into you deeper, making sure he strikes your spot everytime. he was sweating, a drop of sweats watering from his torso. your legs was locked againt his arms as he was fucking you like he ever dreamed of.

his breathing was running shorter and shorter as the heat was stronger. he sunk every inch of his dick in your hole.

he never fucked a girl and he didn't know if he was doing good but his head was empty. all his neurons were dead and it was all about sex and pleasure. and you were nothing better, all dumb by his fat cock, his merciless length feeding your insides. his face was hidden in your neck, his lips salivating on your flesh. " i-i-m...cu..a-aah..plea.se…"

it wasn't already more than ten minutes but he couldn't help. he could cum literally every five minutes inside you, because of his urges, because of the way you make him feel. you were stuffed hard, all his shaft buried in your canal. every hard back and forth left his dick all red and sticky while he was leaving beads of cum on your slit. “ that's a good boy. ” you praised, biting your lower lips. “ but now, are you gonna make me cum ? ”

you wrapped a hand around his throat while he was on top of you. you let him fuck you and abuse your cervix. when he felt your fingers around his neck, it completely turned him on. and all his thrusts had become even more intense as he was increasing the pace. your stomach was spiraling, and his eyes were glued to that.

“h-harder..please..." he was begging at you from more pressure.

"such a freak..." you replied, before wrapping his neck tighter.

your grip was now tight around his throat, his eyes rolled back as he was still fucking you raw, all your pussy milking him. you were draining him. the blue of his gaze was perfect, shiny in the light of the room because of tears. he exploded again and again until his dick start to play difficult to fuck you another round.

he was so handsome.

it wasn't your habit but you kept him in your arms. you felt the need to be nice to him after all his efforts. he was still sweltering and sweating, his body decorated with cute red marks, and you couldn't help but smile.

“hey, you did so good for me. i'm proud, very proud. ” you gently said.

your compliments had given him chills. and his tears had again welled up in his eyes.

“please, cameron.stop being a crybaby. ” you sighed with an annoying tone. “god instead of cries, i should hear how grateful you are to let you fuck me. ”

“thanks...y-you...”

“if your friends saw you like that..." you scoffed. "and if they saw you like that..." you whispered against his ear. "I can already hear the gossip...oh and your father, what would he think of you?"

you felt him shiver under your touch. “that's why you need to be kind with me, rafe. but you're a good boy, aren't you? say it, say it to me. "

“I'm...your good boy. ” he cried out with a gasp, shaking tears on his cheeks.

“ look at yourself, not only are you a good boy, rafe cameron but you're also such a pathetic thing. this is why i need to make you mine. all mine.”

you stood up to take a red marker and marked on his back with permanent ink. “ y/n’s private property. "

“now, i wish you luck in hiding that you belong to me. “

he grimaced. “ do you understand what it means ? you have my name on your fucking back. and you will have such a hard time removing it. you wanted to be obsessed with me ? fine, because now i leave you no choice than being devoted to me. you wake up, it's me. every time you jerk off, it's me. everything you think, it's me. everytime you breathe, it's me. i want everyone on that fucking island to know which pussy make you so dumb and pathetic. is it clear ? ” your hands were gripping around his throat as you spoke.

he nodded his head like a good sub.

“ words. ”

“ yes…i just…i just want you. ” he sobbed, your hands around his neck making it difficult for him to answer properly.

“ so what are you thinking right now ?”

“ you. ” he replied with such a pretty feverish tone.

“ good answer, little boy. ” you praised, while giving him a little pat on the cheeks. “ now, who do you like ? ”

“ you. it's you. ” he repeated.

“ do you want me ? ”

“ i want you. ” he confessed, moving into the space of your spreaded legs. his head was now on your lap, while you stroked his hair gently. “ i need you…” he continued.

“ of course, you need me. i'm the only one to care about you. ” when you rubbed his bottom lip, feeling the sweet wetness of his drool against your thumb, he let out a soft moan before opening his mouth, allowing you to brush fingers in his tongue.

his gaze was precious, a bit teary as his whole mouth was starting to suck your fingertips. his lips were moving faster around your fingers, taking them to the back of his warm tongue. you loved to watch your digits disappear on the side of his muscle, the sucking sounds filling the room as you could feel him grow again in his pants. he was whining at the feeling of pleasure, keeping your fingers in his mouth.

“ mmh…stay like that. i want to take some pictures…” you said in your casual mean girl tone. “ you know, baby…for sleepovers with my girlfriends , we really need something to make fun of and nothing makes us laugh more than pathetic men. ”

your gaze went down his thighs. “ oh god, i'm gonna take such beautiful pictures…please, continue to make your dick leak. soak yourself, show them how pretty you are. i want them to be jealous of what we have. ”

[xinganhao]

♍️ svt reacts to your interest in astrology.

@flipflopscrop -> "what do you think of ot13 reacting to readers’ interest in astrology?"

✩ astrology and horoscopes, mostly crack/humor, cussing and good-natured bickering. short headcanons under the cut.

♍️ headcanons .ᐟ

— lives for it ✩ seungcheol, soonyoung, seokmin, chan.

to absolutely no one's surprise, seokmin is the most likely to revel in astrology. he likes the little daily horoscopes and reminders that he feels are 'curated' to him. you may have to warn him every so often that these are mere suggestions, and not in fact something that should be taken to heart. on the flipside, chan's interest in astrology may come as a bit of a surprise! really, though, he seems to just enjoy the memes attached to his sign. expect to be on the receiving end of a lot of aquarius-related jokes or jabs. seungcheol is 100% the type to say "it's because i'm a leo" without really understanding what being a leo entails. he feels like it excuses a lot of his behavior, so he'll probably lean into it for the hell of it. soonyoung is similar, though he takes it more to the extremes. he might wreak havoc and then proceed to justify it by reasoning that he's a gemini.

— begrudging acceptance ✩ jeonghan, mingyu, seungkwan.

the vibes in this line is very "what the hell, sure." mingyu is admittedly bordering on 'lives for it' and 'general confusion', which just means there are times where he might deign to act on his horoscope of the day. as it is, though, he doesn't really understand what being an aries means in the grand scheme of things. jeonghan openly judges you for this, but he also knows there's no stopping you. he'll listen to his horoscope with mild interest; he's not about to do anything with it, and he may even make some snide comments here and there about you being gullible. seungkwan will subscribe to astrology when it benefits him. is his horoscope good for the week? alright, then he's happy to be a capricorn! is mercury in retrograde? eh, astrology doesn't mean that much, anyway.

— general confusion ✩ joshua, junhui, jihoon.

these boys have no idea what you're talking about. jihoon is the most confused out of everyone, admittedly, because what does being a sagittarius have to do with anything? he no longer tries to hide the fact that he's completely clued out on anything astrology-related, though he'll let you say anything if it makes you happy. joshua is confused but also pleasantly surprised every time you relate his behavior to being a capricorn. he'll look things up as necessary and debunk them, even, if he thinks it's not relevant. junhui gets frustrated, more often than not, and so you can expect some overreactions when you clock him for being a gemini. he will want in-depth reads as to how you related his actions to his sign; be warned, he'll be rolling his eyes and scoffing quite a bit.

— vehement denial of anything & everything astrology ✩ wonwoo, minghao, vernon.

this feels relatively self-explanatory. these three aren't accepting or confused. they are bona fide disbelievers and haters of astrology, and any/all mentions of it will only serve to irk them. wonwoo? narrowing his eyes at you, as if anticipating that you'll chalk up his behavior to being a cancer. ready with a quip and a groan for when, inevitably, you fall right into the stereotype. minghao? launching into a whole tirade about the death of free thinking. his side eye is absolutely lethal as he mumbles about the cons of astrology. and vernon? he hates being perceived, but he hates it even more when he's lumped in with a whole group of people solely because of his sign. expect his grumblings of "be for fucking real" as he mopes about your predictions.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[finniestoncrane]

HELLO I'm in love with the way you write for Cooper 😩👏💝fix idea: I was thinking he's DEFINITELY somebody who doesn't care who he looks anymore, but is still aware that he's got that CHARM yano, but maybe the reader is just "wow your eyes are so pretty" and he fuckin BLUSHES (Mr cooper Howard aka Mr ghoul cowpoke absolutely keels over cus somebody said he was puuuurrtty) 💥💥💥🔫 just all "shut your pie hole girlie" and shes 😏😏😏 ok handsome

Can Ghouls Blush?

Cooper Howard x GN!Reader, word count: 1k aaaaah thank you ;-; also i love this, i love the idea of flustering that horrible boy omg 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: some threats (imean it's cooper), guns, mostly fluff though!

“I know time means very little to someone who has been around for two hundred years, but how much longer are you gonna be?”

Cooper’s voice echoed out from the main room of the abandoned building you had slept in. From the bathroom, you could hear the frustration, despite his attempts to soften it up. He had no time for fun, no time for relaxing. It was survival and sweating, or nothing at all. But you could tell he had tried to soften it up a little, just for you. His irritation was still so obvious however, even as he offered you a playful roll as he approached the door, catching your eye in the reflection of the cracked mirror.

“Just a sec, then we can head out.”

The old hairbrush you had found by the sink was a well-received miracle. A little bit of normality, a chance to tidy yourself up somewhat.

“I just think it’s a waste of time is all. Preening for the Wasteland. I mean, who are you trying to impress out there? You already got the best catch.”

He flicked the brim of his hat with his gloved fingers, grinning wide, yellowed teeth bared at you as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip.

“That’s exactly the problem. I have to make sure I look good to keep up with you, handsome.”

Your hand stroked along his cheek, a brief moment of eye contact as you walked past him towards the door of the bathroom and back out to the front of your temporary shelter.

“Handsome, huh?”

His voice seemed so much lighter now, more so than you had ever really heard before. And as you turned, you noticed the slight smile on his weathered lips, cheeks pulling up at the corners, eyes glinting as he stared straight back at you.

“Uh… yeah. You’re a very handsome guy, Coop.”

You almost had your fingers on the door knob, ready to leave for the start of your day, when you realised that you couldn’t feel Cooper’s presence behind you. Turning to see what was holding him up, you caught something in his eyes. A look of confusion, almost. Surprise. Disbelief. And a little bit of what you could swear was embarrassment. All this time together. Sleeping in each other’s arms, protecting each other from danger. Had you really never expressed to him your attraction? You had just assumed he knew. You spent long enough staring lustfully at him, it was surely a given. So you worried there was something else to it.

“What’s wrong, Cooper?”

“Nothing, I just… I was used to being called handsome, long time ago… not so much these days.”

As you stepped back towards him, closing the short distance, you could make out his expression much better, realising how astute your previous observation had been.

“Oh my god… Coop, are you blushing?”

He raised one finger, narrowing his brows as he tried to hide the endearing glee, offering you a forced stern look as he spoke.

“Don’t start playin’ stupid with me, you know I am not.”

Biting your lip, a mischievous smile forming, you gripped the lapels of his duster, teasing him as you stroked your thumb along one of his ridged, warm cheeks.

“Why, I didn’t even know big tough cowboys could blush, especially not the more ghoulish ones.” Can they blush? I'll need a closer look."

His fingers were tight around your wrist, gripping you fast and firm. He was trying so hard to maintain his tough exterior, but you could tell there was something softer in there that longed to come out, or at the very least, was desperate for someone to notice it. It was so obvious, even as he lowered his voice and growled at you.

“You turn around right now and start walkin’ out that door.”

Cooper took a step forwards, an attempt to regain his control of the situation, to push you towards doing his will, but you brought your hand up and laid your palm against his chest.

“Wait, just a second…”

It was nice to see him in this light. His confidence was always the dominant feature in his peronality, and it rarely wavered, if at all. But to know there were aspects of himself that he wasn't as sure of, and to know you could render him a little flustered just by complimenting them, made you smile. A grin that was returned by Cooper as you gazed into his warm, brown eyes.

"What is it you're lookin' for now, huh? You find it?"

"Yeah... turns out they can blush."

You turned quickly from him, practically skipping back towards the door of your temporary shelter, ready for another day of survival, this time tinted with a little more joy than usual. Your smile only grew wider as you heard Cooper, catching up with you, still trying to cover his embarrassment with the strained, empty aggressive threat that he chased you with.

"Now I will shoot you, you know that? You're pushing your luck today and we ain't even done anythin' yet."

But when he was certain you weren’t going to turn back around, he let himself smile a little. A soft glow in his eyes as he allowed himself to remember who he was, really. The kind of man that resided deep down inside, buried by years of solitude in the deep, dark ground, of struggling to adjust to the world. And struggling to adjust to himself. Even just a tiny reminder that, despite his charms and the charisma that tended to pull people in, that there was a bit of his old self left. That despite everything, despite who he had become, both physically and emotionally, someone might look at him with something other than fear first. With kindess, or lust. Or even love. That was enough to help him cling to the memories and look to the future with just the tiniest bit of hope, something he hadn’t felt in such a long time.

“You comin’, handsome?”

He smiled, biting his lip to curtail the spread of the easy grin.

“You bet.”

[purplecoffee13]

Busy*

Summary: “Harry has to work on a Saturday, and it leaves you quite frustrated. You settle on a compromise…”

Wc: 2.2k

Warnings: c0ckwarming, degradation kink, squ!rting, overstimulation, daddy kink, Harry being kinda mean (but in a hot sexy way)

A/N: hey besties, here’s a blurb for you. Thank you for the patience! I hope you enjoy this smutty little fic🤭

Blurbs Masterlist

General Masterlist

Harry is a busy man.

Not that there is anything wrong with that, except for one little thing: your fiancé works mostly from home.

He's not required to visit the office all the time because he works at an IT company. He's explained his job to you countless of times, but you always get confused about the details. What you don't get confused about is his absurd work hours, though. In fact, it causes loads of aggravation, such as today.

It was supposed to be a nice, calm Saturday. You had both blocked it out to be able to enjoy a full weekend together, but a big mistake had caused chaos at Harry's company, and it needed to be fixed before the weekend was over.

The worst part? He got the call right when he was about to sink his cock into you, and it's all you've been thinking about since he's isolated himself into that little office of his at nine in the morning. It is now two o'clock, and you fear you might be going crazy. It doesn't help that you are clearly ovulating, and it's obviously one of the main indicators that drive you to enter his office.

Harry glances at you, his eyes softening in that second he sees you in a tanktop and a cardigan you threw on. You didn't bother to put on shorts, it's not like you had to cover up for anyone anyway. Unfortunately his attention is back on the screen quite quickly, along with a crease between his brows.

He's frustrated. You could help with that.

A hint of a smirk paints your face as you near your fiancé, and he only fully redirects his focus to you when you climb on top of him, straddling him in his desk chair. The satisfied hum that leaves his mouth vibrates against your shoulder, where he inhales your scent. He huffs, plants a kiss on your neck, and scoots the chair towards the desk before resuming his furious typing on the keyboard.

You say nothing as you pepper Harry with kisses. You make sure you don't miss an inch, slowly working your way up to his jaw. The entire time, he doesn't move an inch, as if he's unaffected by your attention.

Your slightly bruised ego doesn't like that, and soon enough you begin to subtly grind your hips against him. That does cause a reaction.

The low baritone of his breathy voice tickles down your spine as he laughs at your desperation. Your stomach seems to be doing cartwheels at the sound of it.

"Baby..." his tone is warning, but huskily enough to know that he wants you to go on. You him softly, continuing with the movement of your hips. "What are you doing, hmm?"

"Missed you." You admit, rolling against him harsher than before. Harry bites back a groan, but his eyes stay glued to his laptop, and the clacking of his fingers against the keyboard doesn't stagnate either.

"I've been right here all day." He points out, even though he knows what you mean. He's just trying to be a tease and you both know it. Right now though, you don't care, you just want him.

"Not where I want you." You reply stubbornly, your hands tugging at his belt.

"And where is it that you want me?"

"Inside of me."

"Oh no I can't do that, baby. I'm working, remember?"

"But I need you..." you whine hopelessly. You know Harry likes it when you get all desperate for him, and right now you are feeling very much so.

He finally leans back to look you in the eyes, assessing your current state of mind. "Yeah?"

"So bad, daddy. Please, I'll be good."

From the way Harry clenches his jaw, you can see he has given in, and you'll get your way. He sighs, raising his brows as he gives you a nod.

“Alright… take off your clothes.” He orders, and you immediately do as he says, getting rid of your cardigan and top and throwing them across the room. "You can warm up my cock while I work— get up."

Again, you are incredibly fast to obey him, standing up so he could pull down his pants and take out his already hard cock. With a flick of his fingers, he gestures for you to come sit down again, and you do as he demands, pushing your panties to the side and filling yourself up to the brim.

You are so horny and sensitive, you know you won't need much to come. Wrapping yourself around Harry is like breathing fresh air, it’s right and always seems to clear your mind.

"Good girl." Is the only thing Harry whispers before he resumes to his work. You rest your head on his shoulder, letting out a pained sigh as you soak in the length of him. He always feels at home between your legs, like he belongs there. You know he knows that he does, it's why he can get away with shit like this.

He's aware of how desperate you can get for his cock, because it feels like there is a part of you that’s missing whenever he's not filling you up. He knows your pussy is his to stuff whenever he wants to.

That thought alone makes you clench around him, which earns you a smack against your bum. You jolt forward, not expecting the intensity of the sting, and moan at the friction that it gives you.

"Behave." Is all Harry says, his tone rough and demanding. It nearly sends a shiver down your spine. You love it when he gets like that, so dominant.

You stay still, exactly like he ordered, but when you suddenly feel Harry leaning back and place his fingers on your clit, you know the real torture is only just beginning. Swallowing away a moan, you try your hardest to keep your composure as Harry begins to rub lazy circles on your puffy clit.

Your attempt to keep quiet is ruined when he pinches your clit, and a small squeak escapes your lips. Before you can even apologize, Harry's free hand spanks your ass. Again, you move a bit from the impact, and this time, it nearly sends you over the edge. Your fiancé is being extremely cruel, his eyes never leaving that damned computer of his. At this point you want to smash the entire thing to have his eyes be on you, to have all of his attention.

Harry resumes to lazily rubbing your clit for a bit, and you develop a breathing pattern that helps you keep quiet. Rewarding your obedience, his pace picks up, and so does the pressure he places on your clit with his fingers.

You bury your face into his neck, hands clenching around the back of the chair as your legs begin to shake. The stimulation is too much to handle and you feel like you might explode as you come around Harry's cock. The pathetic cry—muffled slightly by your lips on his shoulder—that leaves you gets a kiss on your shoulder instead of a slap this time, and you sigh in relief as you come down from your orgasm.

You are surprised to feel Harry's hands redirect yours as he scoots forward, and wraps them around the desk behind you. You hold onto the wooden table and watch him lean back in his seat again, arms on the armrest, before he gives you a slight nod, one that says 'go on'. When you don't immediately do what he says, Harry speaks up.

"C'mon then, ride me. 'S what you wanted, wasn't it?"

You nod feverishly and begin grinding on his cock. He lets out a breath through his nose, his eyes shamelessly raking down your naked body while he is still almost fully clothed. The power difference is so apparent, and it makes your stomach swerve even more. You get off on Harry acting so cocky, and he always knows how to play into your desires.

Mindlessly, your hand reaches for Harry's shoulders, but he catches your wrist and harshly puts it behind your back again, shaking his head in disapproval.

"No touching."

Your determination to satisfy him overpowers you and you begin to bounce on his cock with all the strength you have. In this position, with your hands on your back, it's not very easy to do so, but you'd do anything Harry tells you to do.

"Tell me what a pathetic cock slut you are." He growls, slightly out of breath from the pleasure you are giving him.

"I'm so pathetic." You respond instantly, like it's second nature to answer to him. He groans, loving your fast obedience when it comes to his commands.

"Yeah?" He eggs you on, indicating for you to continue talking, to continue degrading yourself.

"I can't control myself around you, I need to have your cock inside me all of the time." You go on, feeling your second high approaching when he hums in response. Harry moves slightly in his seat, and you know he is getting antsy to get his hands on you. But you know that he won't falter.

“Prove it, come on my cock again baby.”

Fingers curled tightly around the desk, so bad that your knuckles have surely turned white, you feel your release wash over you. You stop your movements, unable to keep control of your shaking legs. You clench around Harry in the aftermath of your mind-blowing orgasm, and the groan that falls from his lips tells you that his sperm will be coating your walls at any given moment.

Despite being in your fucked out state of mind, you can tell that Harry’s not going to move to make himself come; he’s too stubborn. Still woozy, you gather the strength you have left and begin grinding your hips, hissing at the extreme, almost uncomfortable sensitivity that your clit is faced with at the cause of this friction.

But Harry’s ragged breathing, and the hint of a moan that leaves his mouth makes it all worth it. It triggers a satisfied, desperate sound of your own.

“Please, fill me up daddy.” You cry out, working through the overstimulation you are giving yourself by grinding against him like this. The little frown on your face is adorable, and the sight of it along with everything else that you are doing to Harry makes him cum on the spot. A smile creeps onto your face as you feel Harry emptying his balls inside you, filling up your womb with his seed.

You let out a shriek when you feel Harry’s thumb attach itself to your clit, but when you move back, his arm wraps itself around your waist and pushes your forward, urging you to go on. A tear trickles down your cheek, and you whimper incoherent words strung together, hoping it’ll resemble somewhat of a sentence.

“What? I can’t hear you baby.”

You shut your eyes at the intensity of Harry’s touch on your heat. It’s taking over every last bit of your senses, but despite feeling like you can’t think anymore, you take a deep breath before you exclaim. “It’s t— too much!”

“You asked for this. Now don’t be such a fucking brat and give me another orgasm.” He argues, the certainty in his tone sounding almost cruel. You open your eyes and meet his stone-cold face, determined in his goal to make you come again. Maybe he just is plain cruel, but you can’t deny that it brings you closer to your high. Harry just always seems to know the right words to say to make you feel like you’re floating.

In this case, you feel like you’re floating out of your body. You only seem to be focused on his thumb rubbing those torturous circles over and over again, fastening his pace as much as he can. Your poor attempt at restraining your moans makes you sound like a wounded animal, purely helpless.

“Come on…” Harry coaxes you, a hint of frustration hidden behind his voice, as if his release isn’t complete without your final one.

“I can’t—”

“You can,” He interrupts you sternly, smacking your ass as he starts rubbing back and forth over your clit. “and you will.”

It’s then that your release hit you, like a truck. Knocking out every last one of your senses, your orgasm takes over your body much like you imagine a demon would. It hurts just enough to feel hallucinatory, and you could swear you lose your sight for a second.

“N— ooh! Harry!” You scream, clawing at him with the little strength you have left. The evident wetness that coats both your and Harry’s legs causes the realization of what he’s accomplished to dawn on you.

He just made you squirt.

You have no energy to comment on it, though, snuggling your head into his shoulder the second you come down from your orgasm. Harry strokes your hair, peppering your tingling skin with kisses, commenting on how well you did for him.

When he tries to get up from your seat, you let out a muffled ‘no’, that makes him stop in his tracks.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Not yet, please.” You beg, hugging him tighter. You are simply too tired to do anything right now and all you want is to be close to Harry right now. He hums softly, relaxing in the seat again.

“Alright darling, we’ll stay here for a little while…”