#if he gets into the bathroom with me he will do everything in his power to climb into my pants and lay down

[heartfullofleeches]

Drabble ft Thembo Darling mistaking one of Aspen [Housewife Yan]'s night slips for a tank top. (GN Reader, but they are described as having big naturtals and slightly implied to be taller than Aspen. Reader's chest is referred to as tits once or twice. Slightly suggestive.)

-

Wedded and residing in the same home as your spouse for several odd years, misplacement of your separate possessions as individuals is a one of numerous staples tied to married life. Your toothbrush in the slot where his would normally be. Leaving home smelling of lavender and honey instead of your regular body soap. Taking out the trash in pink slippers due to your own being nowhere in sight.

It's never been a point of issue to either of you. As a matter of fact, your wife seems delighted to find you at the breakfast table sipping from his favorite mug.

Groggy and drained of energy by the steam of a nice, hot shower before bed, you stumble into the bedroom as the click of the bathroom door muffles the sound of running water. Your wife enjoyed taking his time when he had it to spare, but unfortunately you were too exhausted to stay with him longer.

Pawing through the darkness, your fingers lace around the chilled knob of the top dresser drawer where you normally kept your nightwear. The insistence of your wife urging you to join him lead to you forgetting to grab a shirt for yourself. Losing your battle with the beast known as fatigue, you grab the closet one - throwing it over head as you switch trajectory for the bed.

"Something feels.....off."

As the fabric petals around you, you immediately notices something strange about the garment both in texture and the form at which it shapes to your frame. At first feel, you chalked the silk like touch of the shirt as some effect of the new laundry detergent Aspen picked up the other day. For a split moment, you pondered if you even put on anything to begin with - the material light and breathable like warm spring air. The familiar bind of your tank tops makes an appearance as the shirt rides the curve of your ample chest, biting the skin as you huff in frustration.

"Did it shrink in the wash?? Didn't he just buy these for me?"

Fiddling with oddly thin straps, your tits squish through the top of the shirt as you pull its hem in tandem. Your nipples pucker at the iciness cupping your chest as the fabric adjusts to the warmth of hot-bloodded body. Your teeth chatter as cool air blows over your bare stomach - the shirt barely having enough material to cover your navel.

"This thing totally shrunk! And it's brand new too...."

Slumped in defeat, cherubic humming echoes from behind the bathroom door - crescendoing as the handle turns and a figure shrouded in fog steps out. Aspen hangs his towel on the shower rack drilled to the backside of the door, facing away from you as he questions-

"Is everything alright, my love? Could've sworn i heard you saying something a moment ago."

"I think my tank top shrunk in the wash...."

"What?!" Aspen spins on his heels, expression flared in shock and surpise at your declaration. "But I just bought those for you! First thing tomorrow, we're marching down to that store to get you clothes that can survive more than one wash."

"I know." You whine, plopping down on the bed center of the brilliance still bleeding through the bathroom door. Aspen's jaws fall slack as he stares at you, but the source of his disbelief no longer regards the alleged faulty tank top.

"Darling?"

"You didn't even need to buy me new ones, but it was sweet of you to do anyway."

"Darling."

"And look what happened. Having to return gifts is the worst!"

"Darling!"

"Huh?!?" You snap to attention as your wife shouts, the fat of your well endowed bust nearly slipping over the low cut of your attire as you jump from the fright of if all. Breath violently yanked from his person, Aspen stammers for the proper words to say as he fans himself.

"Good heavens, if there are higher powers above, please give me strength." Aspen mutters feverishly to himself - regaining his prim and proper composure as he clasps his hands together; nails digging into his skin to remind him of self control.

"Dearest. My sweet angel, my love of loves - you are not wearing one of your shirts. You are wearing one of my slips."

Oh.

Ohhhh.

That explains- so much. More specifically the spilts at the sides and what you now recognize as frilly lace stitched around the hems.

"Oh, no. I'm stretching it all out, aren't I? Here, I'll try to get it off before I completely ruin it."

"NO!" Aspen's hands shoot forward as if you're inches from placing your hand on a hot stove. He clears his throat, rounding the bed to where you sat.

"Ruined is a rather bold claim, wouldnt you say? You already have it on, so there's no point in taking it off. Besides, I have plenty more you can stretch out some other day. It's getting late. Why don't we lie down?"

"I guess you're right..."

Sighing, you roll onto your backside as Aspen crawls over to his side of the mattress to join you. Elastic expanding to the fullest of its limits, your nipples peak out the sidelines of the slip as you lay there none the wiser.

Aspen shoves his knuckles between his teeth to stop himself from screaming.

[keikikait]

ʀᴇʙᴇʟ ꜱᴜɴ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part three. for part two, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 4.5k

summary: rafe brings you breakfast and problems arise

warnings: dead dove, do not eat. stalker!rafe, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, manipulation. use of the word 'bitch'. rafe is trying but he's still a freak, mention of drugs

a note: i'm so pissed about episode 10 btw

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Two hundred and eighty-nine days.

You’ve been going through something.

It’s been 289 days since Rafe decided to keep you, to hide you away in his room like a little doll, to keep you on his shelf just for his eyes only. You were so resistant at first, always crying and squirming while he tied you to his bed, always trying to fight back. He tried everything he could think of to calm you down; asking nicely, trying to hold you, pinning you down and covering your mouth. The only thing that ever worked was cocaine, holding you down and rubbing it all over your gums. You were his little druggie, and he was smitten. For a while.

For the past few weeks, Rafe has been slowly trying to ween you off of it. You were getting too addicted, too addicted to something that wasn’t him. As much as he loved you, he didn’t like wasting his cocaine on you just to get you to calm down. He wanted things to be different. He wanted you to enjoy being with him in his big, beautiful house in Figure 8, a far cry from your modest childhood home in The Cut. He didn’t want to hold you here anymore, against your will, he wanted you to willingly be his. Rafe was a strong, powerful, handsome, rich man. Why were you resisting? Is he not good enough for you? Is there something wrong with him? Is he not what you want, what you need?

The cold metal of the handcuffs bite at your skin as you squirm, tied up to the headboard. Although you spent most of your time tied up on your side of the bed, he moved you around a lot; keeping you on the floor underneath his desk as he worked, leaving you on the bathroom floor after you’ve been particularly resistant, and even keeping you under his bed when the police first came knocking after you “disappeared”. People were looking for you, JJ and John B especially, but they would never find you. Rafe would make sure of it. 

He let you up once, watching you with a sharp eye as you padded around his bedroom, stretching your legs out, your arms still bound. You spent your limited time standing in front of the window, looking outside, daydreaming about the day you finally get to go home. You were only free for 10 minutes before Rafe got nervous, picking you up and throwing you on the bed, squishing you with his body weight as you squirmed and wiggled.

Sunlight pours in through the windows, the curtains moving slowly with the fresh spring air. You haven’t been outside since last September, and now as July creeps up, you’re not sure if you’ll ever get out of Rafe’s room. The last 289 days have all felt like a blur, one second it was Halloween, the next second it's Christmas and Rafe is opening your gift for you as you sob, scream, and beg him for mercy. His present to you was a gold necklace spelling out Rafe, as well as a matching gold ring. You screamed and cried and tried to bite him as he put the necklace on, but it didn’t deter Rafe. He jotted all of your misbehaviour down to withdrawals, and he would pack you full of drugs to keep you pliant, satiated, and quiet. He’s never been more happy to not have neighbours. 

His punishment was enough to convince you to keep the necklace on. You spent two days locked in the bathroom, stuck in the bathtub, arms and legs tied behind your back. You sobbed when you saw him, mostly out of relief, and you screamed and begged for him to forgive you. He thought you looked so cute like that, your eyes red, tears streaming down your cheeks, and he forgave you very easily. 

The door softly opens as Rafe steps through, carrying a TV tray packed full of breakfast. Rafe wasn’t the best cook, but he was trying to learn, just for you. After all, he couldn’t hire a private chef if his unwilling girlfriend was tied up upstairs. He smiles at you, carrying the tray over and setting it down on his side of the bed, smoothing down the duvet. “Mornin’, angel. You hungry?”

“Fuck off.” You say, shooting him a glare before looking away from him. 

Oh, he hates when you do this. When you glare at him like he’s the worst person alive. When you keep silent, refusing to even look at him. It drives him crazy. Why doesn’t his angel love him, why doesn’t his angel want him? What is he doing wrong? He sighs, giving you a disapproving look. “That wasn’t very polite, angel, and I was trying to do something nice for you.” He takes a seat on the bed, grabbing the tray and setting it in between the two of you.

“I’m not hungry.” You say, although it’s a lie. You rejected his lunch and dinner offerings the night before, and the French toast in front of you smelled so fucking good.

He lets out a breathy laugh. “Now, don’t lie to me, baby. I know you’re hungry. I know you’ve been starving yourself, tryna prove you’re all big and strong, but I’m not gonna let you do that.” He pushes the tray closer to you. “Aren’t you tired of being all stubborn and difficult? I just want to take care of you.”

“I want to go home, Rafe.” You say.

“You are home, baby.” He says, his eyes hard, although there was some hurt behind his tone. He hated your constant cries to go home, hated hearing you ask for the outside world when all he wanted was to keep you here, to keep you safe and to keep you his. “Why do you want to leave so badly? You’ll be safer here, you don’t have to worry about anything ever again.” In Rafe’s eyes, he saved you, and he wanted you to save your soul for the devil in him.

“You can’t just kidnap me and expect me to be okay with it!” You say, your voice wavering as you start to cry again. “I won’t cling to you like some love-blind addict.”

His eyes soften a little when you cry, his heart beating a little bit faster at the look on your face. God, he just wanted you to love him. He didn’t know why he was being so stubborn, why he couldn’t just force you like he normally would. He bites his tongue, trying not to say anything too harsh. “I don’t want you to cling to me like some love-blind addict. I want you to love me because you want to, not because you have to.”

“You can’t kidnap me and expect me to be okay with it.” You say again.

“Well, I have, and you’re still here, aren’t you?” He says, his jaw tight, trying to keep himself calm. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you, but you’re still not happy. What else do you want from me, angel?”

“I just want to go home!” You say, tears starting to stream down your cheeks.

He scoffs, his words coming out harsh and fast. He’s starting to get annoyed with your attitude. “You are home, you selfish little brat. I’m trying to keep you safe, all I do is try to protect you, and you keep acting like this, like I’m the bad guy!” Rafe scoots closer to you on the bed, putting the TV tray closer to your legs. “Now, you’re going to eat your breakfast like a good little bitch, and then you’re going to thank me after. Are we clear?”

You hesitate, sniffling as the tears travel down your cheeks onto your neck. He sighs watching you cry. God, he hated seeing you cry. He hated how desperate you looked, how beautiful you looked. He was just trying to keep you safe and happy, trying to keep you his. He reaches up towards you, grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to look at him. “I asked you a question, angel. Are. We. Clear?”

You nod. You were starving, and Rafe was even nice enough to bring you your favourite coffee. You should just say yes and try to get on his good side. “Yeah. We’re clear.”

Rafe’s eyes soften when you agree, finally giving in. He liked it when you listened to him, when you were calm and sweet and obedient. He brushes under your eyes with his thumb, wiping away some of the tears. He doesn’t miss how beautiful you look when you cry. “Good girl.” he murmurs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead. You always look your prettiest when you’re obedient. 

You hate the way it makes your heart flutter. Shame is sharp, and your skin gives in so easily.

He uncuffs your ankles, letting you sit up and get comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you could be. Your arms were still being painfully yanked, tied up onto the headboard, but at least you weren’t laying down anymore. “Now, are you gonna be a good girl and eat your breakfast?” He asks, glancing down at the food. 

You nod, trying to get more comfortable. He watches as you shift and squirm, biting the inside of his cheek. He hated that you were still tied up. He hated having you like this. He wanted you to be free, to walk around, to be able to do what you want to do, but he didn’t trust you not to run away yet. He didn’t want to keep you tied up forever. Rafe sighs, taking the mug of coffee and handing it to you. “Here, baby, drink some coffee first.”

You carefully take a sip, trying to not burn your mouth. He smiles a little, watching you sip on your coffee happily. You’re doing so good so far this morning. Not so much crying, no screaming, no begging, just a little hiccup in the beginning. He liked this; liked seeing you docile and quiet. “Good?” He asks, tilting his head at you.

You nod, licking your lips. You were a bit surprised that Rafe remembered your coffee order. “Yeah. Really good. Thank you.”

He’s a bit shocked when you thank him, his heart hammering a little bit faster and his chest warming. “Yeah? You’re welcome, angel,” He feels himself smile, his hand twitching a little, wanting to reach out and caress your cheek, touch your hair. He forces himself to stay where he is. You take another sip of the coffee. He continues to watch you, feeling his chest warm again. He was always a bit thrown off whenever you thanked him, because it didn’t happen often. That was his fault, he knew that. He was always taking you against your will, having to force you into things. “Keep drinking your coffee, baby.” He says softly, wanting to keep you calm and quiet.

You finish the coffee and Rafe sets the mug aside on your bedside table. He shifts around, sitting cross-legged as he cuts up a piece of French toast. Your mouth waters as you sit up straighter. “Did you use the--”

“The brown sugar maple syrup?” He smirks. “Yes, angel, I did,” He stabs a piece with the fork before bringing it up to your mouth, one hand cupped underneath to catch any crumbs. “Say ahh.”

You eagerly open your mouth, closing your lips around the fork and pulling the piece into your mouth. It’s delicious, and you lean your head back against the headboard as you chew, eyes closed.

He feels his heart skip a beat when you lean your head back. God, you looked so perfect. So goddamn pretty. He could stare at you forever. “Good?” He asks, his gaze lingering on your throat as you swallow. He wanted to bite you, mark you up as his. But he had to be patient. You didn’t fully trust him yet, and he was eager to break you.

You nod, opening your eyes. “Really good.”

He smiles, leaning forward and wiping a little maple syrup off your lips. He lets his hand linger on your face, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. He wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss you, but he didn’t want to ruin this. He didn’t want to ruin how good you were being. “Good. I’m glad you like it, angel,” He moves his attention to the small ramekin of fruit, stabbing a couple pieces. “Alright. This one next.”

You accept the fruit, eyeing up the rest of the TV tray. You swallow, shifting again. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me, Rafe.”

He knows he didn’t have to. He knows that he could’ve just given you shitty breakfast sausages and an apple and called it a day, but he wanted to make you feel good, wanted to make you trust him more. He hated that the only time you were sweet and quiet was when you were hopped up on drugs. He wanted you sweet and quiet without the drugs, he wanted you to love him the way he loved you. “I know I didn’t have to, angel. I just wanted to.”

You eat some more of the fruit. “Well… thank you.”

He feels himself smile again, your quiet gratitude still throwing him a bit off kilter. Why did you have to be so goddamn cute, making him feel all soft? He could imagine what it would be like if you were willingly with him, letting him dote on you the way he wanted. He would cook you food every morning, give you gifts, hold you in his arms every night. It would be so perfect, if only you would just be a good girl and submit. “You’re welcome, baby.”

You finish the rest of your breakfast in silence, leaning into his hand as he wipes your mouth for you. You shouldn’t be doing this, willing leaning towards your stalker, but… you can’t deny how nice it feels for him to be kind to you. For him to not be screaming at you, holding you down while you cry, drugging you into submission. But if you wanted to get out, you had to play the long game. You had to get him to trust you enough so he would uncuff you, and then you had to wait for the perfect opportunity to run.

He watches you finish your breakfast, watching you lean into his hand when he wiped your mouth. His gaze lingered on your lips for as long as he could manage, feeling himself want to kiss you. You were doing so good, you were sitting so pretty and being so sweet and quiet. He wanted you like this all the time, wanted you to be his good little girl and obey him all the time. But he knew it would take time, it would take weeks to break you.

Rafe piles the dishes high on the TV tray, setting it aside. You lick your lips, shifting on the bed again. Your arms were killing you, pulled tight behind your back, your shoulders aching. Maybe if you were good, he would uncuff you. You take a deep breath before speaking, “Any plans today?”

He notices your discomfort right away, but he didn’t want to risk untying you when you could run away. But you had been so good this morning, he would hate to ruin it. He glances over at you before standing, the TV tray balancing in his hands. “I have a few meetings with my attorney today, but other than that, I was gonna hang around here.”

You nod. This might be harder than you thought. “Attorney?”

“Yeah,” He tilts his head at you, watching you for a moment. He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he couldn’t exactly have his attorney come over and risk spotting you. “I’ve got some stuff… going on with my dad’s estate and life insurance stuff. I’ve got to talk to the attorney about legal stuff.”

Oh. Right. You remember the day Ward died, how the entire island seemed to come to a screeching halt, rumours starting to spread of the Kook Prince’s breakdown. You had felt bad for him back then, back before he kidnapped you. Now, you didn’t feel as bad, but you needed to lie your way into getting out of his stupid house. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says. “It’s not your fault. Kinda glad that fucker is gone anyway.” He sighs, picking the TV tray up and standing. “I’ll be out for a few hours, though. Appointments at 3:30.”

You nod, watching as he heads out of the bedroom, stomping down the stairs. You let out a shaky breath. Rafe’s nice guy act was just that, an act, as fake as the lifestyle he lives and the image he portrays. You were being punished, by Rafe and the universe, punished for being stupid and naive enough to think that you were special, that he would treat you any differently than he treats the others. No matter what he said, you knew deep down that he didn’t love you. He just wanted to get you weak, groggy, and docile so he could take off your clothes and hurt you. If you gave in, he would just hurt and abuse you until he got bored. He would tare off chunks of you to eat before you were nothing but bones. 

You hear him moving around downstairs, putting the dishes in the sink before opening the fridge. You wonder what he’s doing, what he’s getting up to when you can’t see him. You can’t help it. You squirm on the bed as you hear him heading up the stairs again, looking over at the door as he enters.

He smiles softly when he sees you, his little bride, his sweet divine. “You’re squirming again, angel.”

“The handcuffs hurt,” You say. 

Rafe sighs, chewing the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want you to run, but he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. You would have a much harder time submitting to him if your wrists were permanently rubbed raw. He pulls the key off of his neck, looped through an old necklace chain. “Lean forward, baby,” You lean forward, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he unlocks one wrist. He quickly pulls it away from the headboard before reattaching it to your wrist. You were still bound, still his, but he was hoping this would help you finally give in. “There we go. Is that better?”

You nod, relaxing your shoulders. It was still uncomfortable to have your hands behind your back, but this was light-years ahead of being trapped in his bed. “Much better.”

“You didn’t try to run.” He says. 

You didn’t have time to run. “No, I didn’t.”

He tugs you closer to the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He presses your face into his chest, kissing the top of your head. “Good girl.” Your head spins. He smells so good, and he’s so warm, and fuck you missed being held. You lean against his chest, burying your face into his sternum. He kisses your head again before stroking your hair, one arm tight around your shoulders.

Rafe opens his mouth to speak when there’s a sudden pounding on the front door. Your breath hitches and your stomach drops. You look at him, at the confusion streaking across his handsome face. “Who is it?”

He clenches his jaw, his hands forming into fists and flexing. He walks over to the window, peeking through the curtain, looking down at the driveway.

Shit.

A Kildare County Sheriff’s Department squad car sits in his driveway, and he watches as two officers climb out, a thick manilla envelope in hand. Fuck. Fuck. “Stay here, baby,” He says, watching you as he walks back towards the door. “Just stay quiet, and I’ll take care of it, okay?”

You watch helplessly as he heads out of the room, stomping down the stairs.

He walks down the stairs, opening the front door to confront the cops. “Officers,” he says smoothly, holding back the dread that was growing in his chest. “How can I help you today?”

The officer on the left, L. Hughes according to his name tag, speaks first. “Mr. Cameron?”

“Yes. That’s me,” He says, forcing a smile on his face as he leans against the door frame. “May I ask what this is about, officer?”

Hughes starts to open the envelope. “We’re just doing some rounds, sir. Handin’ these out,” he pulls out a large stack of 8 by 11s. He takes a sheet off the top and hands it to Rafe. “Do you know this girl?”

Rafe takes the paper before looking down at it. His fingers clench, his grip tightening. It’s a missing flyer for you, your smiling face staring at him. It had all of your info; name, age, height and weight, as well as the day you were last seen in Kildare, September 18th. The bottom of the flyer has the Sheriff’s Department phone number and email. Did Peterkin rat him out?

“No, I uh…” Rafe clears his throat. “Don’t recognise her. Sorry, guys.”

“She’s uh… from The Cut,” The officer on the right, J. Patrick, says. “Do you know anyone down there who’s uh… particularly violent?”

Rafe’s grip tightens. He could easily point them in the direction of JJ and John B, hell, maybe even Pope would go down too. “I mean, a few of ‘em, yeah. They can get pretty aggressive. Thought she’s just missin’, though.”

“We’re hoping that’s the case,” Hughes says. “But you know… it’s been 9 months since she disappeared. People are starting to talk, rumours about this girl gettin’ killed. You sure you don’t recognise her?”

They know something. He’s sure of it. Rafe looks at the flyer again. “Nah, I don’t recognise her. I don’t really get to that side of the island very much.”

“Well, the thing is, Mr. Cameron,” Patrick says. “Is that we got an anonymous tip. They said that they were up here not too long ago, and they saw someone that looked a lot like her in your upstairs window. We’re just here to check it out.”

Rafe’s blood runs cold. What the hell? Peterkin didn’t rat him out, did she? He swallows thickly, clenching his jaw. “Alright, come on in then, but I guarantee you there’s nobody in the house but me.”

Fuck. Fuck. His plan was falling apart right before his eyes. He was just starting to break you down, and now you were going to be ripped away from him. He steps aside and lets the officers in, setting your missing person flyer on the table. He leads them upstairs, hands clenched tightly in a fist, his nails digging into his palms. He didn’t want to lose you, he didn’t want the officers to even see you, his little rebel laying in the sun.

You’re still on the edge of the bed, listening. You stand up when you hear the officers coming, the beeps of their radios sounding so incredibly loud. Your legs shake as you stand in the middle of the room, frozen in place, clad in only one of Rafe’s t-shirts and a pair of panties. 

You could escape. You could get out of here. You could go home, back to your family, back to JJ, John B, and Pope. You would be able to sleep in your own bed, and take a shower without having Rafe holding you, washing your body and hair for you as you cried and sobbed. 

You could be free. 

But you can’t do it. You don’t want to leave Rafe, and you don’t know why. He kidnapped you, kept you full of cocaine and benzos to keep you quiet and asleep your first few months here. He was hurting you, using you as a little pawn in his game. But you didn’t want to leave him. You know you’ll probably regret it, but you couldn’t leave him behind when he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world for him.

Is he the one? Is he everything you’ve ever wanted?

Will you regret this?

The doorknob twists, and you suddenly crawl under the bed, the bed skirt cascading down the side to cover you.

The officers look around the room. Hughes takes a few glances around, Patrick’s back facing where you are, hiding underneath the bed. They look everywhere but underneath the bed, and Rafe’s heart pounds in his chest, blood rushing in his ears. Why were they here? Why were they doing this?

Rafe had to stay calm. He can’t lose you, he can’t. “See? Told you, it’s just me here.”

“Alright,” Hughes sighs. “Guess it was just a mistake. Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Cameron.” Their voices fade as they leave the room, and you lay under the bed, paralysed with fear. But was it because of Rafe, or because of the officers?

He walks them downstairs, saying goodbye before shutting and locking the door. He quickly heads back upstairs, watching through the window as the squad car drives away. He looks out the window again before walking over to the bed, kneeling down. “Come out, angel.” 

He lifts the bed skirt as you crawl out, body shaking. “Are they gone?”

He reaches out, grabbing your shoulders and hoisting you up. “Yeah. They’re gone, baby.” He sighs, cupping your face. “You did so good hiding like that.”

You lean into his calloused palms. “Thank you.”

He feels his heart flutter when you lean into his hands, his fingers tracing over the smooth skin of your cheek and jaw. “You’re such a good girl, angel. I’m so proud of you.” He pulls you close, kissing your forehead.

You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t think I wanna leave.”

Those words almost stop his heart, tears welling in his eyes. He’s wanted this, for you to admit that you wanted to stay with him, that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you. “You-You want to stay?” He can’t help how small his voice sounds, the vulnerability leaking out of it.

You nod, burying your face in his shoulder.

He’s speechless, so shocked that this is actually happening, that he’s finally got what he’s been wanting this whole time. He doesn’t hesitate to snake his arms around you, holding you close and burying his face in your hair, his breathing shaky. “You’re serious, angel? You don’t want to leave? You want to stay with me?”

You nod again. “Yeah, Rafey.”

He loves when you call him that, a whine of pleasure building in his throat. He nuzzles his face in your neck, kissing you sweetly. “Oh god, baby. You can’t imagine how happy that makes me. Thank you, baby, thank you so much. I’ve been trying so hard for so long, thank you.” He murmurs against your skin, his heart feeling light and happy, like he could finally breathe.

You knew you were betting on a losing dog. You would never make it out of this house, but maybe you could live with that.

Rafe would always find you anyway.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

this will be the last part, but i have more rafe fics on the way!

★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21, @drewsphswife, @gilwm, @watchmerora, @odairtrqsh, @wearemadeofstardust0, @rafesbabygirlx, @slumnit, @babygirlwilly, @rafeyswife, @magicalflowerstranger (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

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[34saveme34]

Single Wrong Step Away from It - a short smg34 fic

3 has a nightmare but not in the way you'd think. He feels awful about it either way.

Words, about 2.2k I think?

---

He walked down a dark corridor, knowing the sight that would greet him. This had been right underneath the crew’s nose and they were none the wiser. It was an all too familiar man with a television for head, looking at monitors. The room was as dark as his desires. And sinister as their plans, fake as the friendships made along the way, except this one.

“I’m so glad you saw my way, SMG3”

“Well, I oughta” 3 chuckled.

“Especially for the amazing amount of intel you could give me! With the information I possess about SMG4, all because of you, we should be able to take over his channel in no time!”

“And this time, for good, I hope at least”

“You got me this time and I assure you I know how to plan things right”

They shared a chuckle.

“I can almost imagine the face SMG4 will make when he realises that our friendship was anything but real!”

“Oh, you’re truly sinister, SMG3! If I knew earlier we could’ve worked together way way earlier”

“What matters is we’re doing this together now!”

They set out finally, together. They had a foolproof plan. SMG3 knew that SMG4 blindly trusted him at this point, and had him wrapped around his finger. The best possible prey. And 3 was getting ready to pounce.

They were walking in a forest together. Nothing but the sounds of the night with them.

“Hey, 4” 3 called out to 4. The fact that he was called 4 caught him off guard a bit, considering that 3 doesn’t use it for him a lot. It made him smile.

“Yea?”

“I was just thinking…” 3 started, a sort of anxiety making it hard to speak for him. Or at least that was what 4 believed.

“Yeah? I’ll listen, dude”

“I’ve just… I’ve known you for so many years… And you know… we have a lot of great memories together”

“Aaaand?” 4 asked with a smile he couldn’t rub off his face.

“I’ve just you know… realised that maybe… there could be more to it” 3 played being flustered perfectly.

“More to it how?” 4 wasn’t giving it so easy.

“Oh, you’re gonna try and make me say it? Dummy” 3 chuckled.

“Well, would be great if you did… but I think you should know my answer” 4 grabbed 3’s hand.

They both laughed.

“Well… I guess I could say that there’s feelings for you in me that are not hatred or just friends… but something more”

4 giggled.

“Something more you say?”

“I’m not giving you any more hints”

“Don’t think I need anymore” 4 cupped 3’s cheeks.

“Go on then”

4 leaned in, finally giving 3 a kiss. It took one decade and while sweet and lowkey, it felt so earned, so…. So perfect. Such a powerful thing.

“I just wanna say one thing though” 3 said after 4 pulled away.

“Anything” 4 was so lovestruck.

“You should’ve been more careful” 3 smirked, but it wasn’t a nice smirk, it was sinister and  it confused and also scared 4.

“What do you mea-” but he couldn’t utter another word, being clapped together between the palms of an all too familiar TV head man. 3 heard the man’s dark laughter. First there was SMG4. Now there wasn’t. Just in a quick swoop, he was no more.

“Genius!” Puzzles applauded 3 “What a perfect setup to get the perfect rating! I approve of your dedication”

“Only the best from the best” 3 chuckled.

“Now to move on to the rest of them..”

~~~

3 woke up. The events in his mind slowly set in. He felt his chest sink. It didn’t actually happen. He wasn’t even the one being betrayed but somehow this felt worse. So much worse. He got out of bed, going to the bathroom to wash of his dream sins. He wished he never even thought about this. He wished he didn’t have such a stupid fear that would haunt him from time to time.

He looked at himself in the mirror.

“Am I truly good?” he asked himself, inspecting himself. Looking at everything wrong about him. There was a lot. He wondered what would happen if he suddenly ended up going that way… Fame was always something that could sway him. He looked deep in the mirror, deep in his eyes, the red in his eyes. He felt confused by it the deeper he looked. Wondering if there was something in him that could break out and he could ruin everything. Lose everything. Make years of friendship look like a joke. He shed a tear. He kept the rest back. He had an urge to cry but it was hard to get out. He wiped his eyes. 

He went back to bed and laid down, trying to sleep again. But all that would haunt him was 4 in his dream, looking so confused, not even given the right to process that he was betrayed by him. The look of horror on him that he swore he saw for half a second. It was scary.

He turned and turned, everything felt uncomfortable, along with his thoughts. He felt hot yet cold, his blanket felt strange and uncomfortable, his pillow was anything but welcoming and his bed felt like a trap to put him in a cycle. He sighed as he sat up.

He went up and made himself a nice, warm glass of milk. With a bit of sugar too. While warming it up, still all he could think about was the idea that he was really wasting his time and he could lose everything any moment. That he could easily snap back and ruin everything. 

The beeping of the microwave snapped him out of it.

He took it and sat by one of the table, sipping away at it quietly. He looked outside to at least somewhat distract himself. It looked so peaceful outside. After finishing his milk, which he really only made because that would sometimes make him feel better, he instead went outside. Midnight air just hits different…..And it did then as well. It felt refreshing, comfortable in a way. 3 could take in a big breath. Although in the end it wasn’t enough but at least he wasn’t suffocating on his thoughts helplessly.

He looked at the castle, knowing exactly where 4’s room was located. Knowing the layout of the room like the back of his hand, knowing, as he looked there where his bed would be located.

He shook his head. No, he couldn’t bother him then, that’d be so selfish.

“Besides, what would I say to him?” 3 thought out loud “Ooooh, SMG4, can you comfort me? I had a nightmare! I sound so stupid right now”

Just after he said that, he saw 4’s face pop up in his window. He froze. Did… Did 4 hear him? Oh god…

He saw 4 gesture him to come in. 3 sighed, he wasn’t escaping this now. He went around, not wanting to crawl through the window so he went through the main entrance then to his room’s door. 4 was already standing in the doorway, waiting with his arms crossed.

“So?” 4 asked as 3 stopped in front of him, not saying a word.

“C’mon dude” 4 asked again “I heard something was bothering you”

“Why are you even awake, it’s like 2 AM”

“Video grind. Regardless, I think you’re awake for worse reasons… Something about a nightmare? That I could, saying it with your words, comfort you about?” 4 said the last part with a small grin, obviously teasing 3.

3 slapped him.

“Shut up”

“Oww!”

“Serves you good”

“I’ll shut up if I can listen to you”

3 stared at 4 unamused before sighing the biggest of sighs known to men, feeling a bit flustered alongside it.

“I just had a stupid dream where I betrayed you with the help of Mr Puzzles and I’m scared it could happen in real life, are you happy? That’s what’s keeping me up”

4 looked at him concerned. 3 felt awful.

“I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have told you”

“No… No, it’s okay” 4 mustered a smile “It makes me happy when you’re more open with me”

3 chuckled.

“Rare occurrence, right?” 

“Yeah with how much of a tsundere you are”

“I’m NOT! Got it?? I’m anything but that”

4’s smile fell.

“Sure sure… I’ll believe you.”

“I thought you would freak out more”

“Huh? Why would I?”

“At the thought that I had a dream of betraying you”

“3… did you enjoy betraying me?”

3 thought back to the dream, the whole kiss part flustered him a bit.

“3?”

“Uh- Of course not! Why would I? I may be a villain but I’m not… not…” 

“You’re not what?”

“Not… abandoning you. Not after everything”

4 looked at 3.

“Wow, is that still you, SMG3? I never knew you could be so direct… or that you felt that way about me” 4 teased 3.

3 was almost about to tell him off again, but he stopped himself. He calmed himself down with a deep breath. He firmly but with love grabbed 4’s shoulders.

“Are you trying to make fun of the fact that I care about you this much? I never cared so much about anyone. And I’m scared, I’m really scared I could… hurt you again. Do you know how scary it is, feeling the looming possibility of me backstabbing you?” 3 teared up “It’s so scary. I don’t wanna lose you”

4 didn’t know how to respond. He felt a bit flustered by such an admission of care for him. He knew 3 cared about him but all these words coming out of him directly just put a sort of feeling in him that made it just a little harder to stand and a little harder to think.

“3…I know you wouldn’t…”

“But- but what if I have a weird change of heart? And become what I used to be? What if I go and kill you on purpose? Like I’ve wanted to in the past?”

3’s tears wouldn’t stop.

“I- Listen, 3… I get that you have quite the history but um…” 4 took a deep breath. It was his time to be honest. 

“You… honestly amaze me, 3. For all that you’ve gone through I’m… proud of you? In a way… Yes, you tried to kill me and I’m not happy that happened… I’m not happy about so much you’ve done but… to me, you’ve made up for it… If… if you changing isn’t real then- then is anything real?”

“Eheh, you’re exaggerating…”

“No, dude, I’m serious! At this point- At this point I can’t imagine a world you would betray me in… besides… Mr Psychiatrist degree, isn’t this dream of yours kind of OCD adjacent?”

“Well-” 3 thought for a bit “Hate how you’re making sense there…”

“If you… hate it so much, it just shows how much it’s not what you REALLY want… I’d trust that the last thing you’d ever want to do is hurt me”

3 looked down. He had to take a bit to take the words in. 

“3…?” 4 was concerned with the silence but he didn’t need to be concerned for long as he was pulled into a tight hug. 3 buried his face in 4’s neck, still crying a bit so he soaked 4’s shirt, not that he cared. 4 might have but he didn’t that’s for sure. 4 returned the hug, rubbing 3’s back. It wasn’t always the easiest with 3 but these kind of moments were the ones making it all worth it for 4. He would live through so many murder attempts if it meant he could get more of this kind of 3, a 3 that could be so honest. A 3 that could care so much, so much that he could tear the universe apart. He loved it. Especially because he felt similarly. Sometimes he would remember old times and wonder how they couldn’t have been friends earlier but then realising that what they have now… It’s perfect. He would never even think to wish for anything else.

And they didn’t pull away for a long while, it felt like a waste to do so. A question appeared in 3’s mind that wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Say… 4… mind if I… spend the night here…? It’s cool if you don’t want me to- It is… kind of weird for me to ask to anyways”

4 pulled out of the hug.

“I was actually thinking the same thing. Although I don’t have another bed prepared” 

Silence inserted itself between them as they were both looking at each other awkwardly.

“I knew you were gay” 3 said, quoting the legendary video.

“Alright, that’s it, you’re coming to bed with me”

“Ooooh nooooo, what will I ever doooo” 3 said sarcastically.

“Oh, you know. Sleep” 

As they both laid down it felt a bit too real. Sure, they first softened the tension of the idea with jokes but that didn’t mean it would be easy after.

3 looked at the ceiling then at 4. Then at his hand. Although this all felt weird and he didn’t like being so direct- he grabbed 4’s hand, firmly at that. 4 looked at him. They stared into each other’s eyes a bit before 4 smiled.

“I’m glad to have you in my life, 3”

“Ahem, I’m actually more glad to have YOU in MINE” 3 got competitive about it. They both laughed about it then finally fell asleep.

[taemcains]

eroticism, sensuality & how cain embodies it

i've always called cain erotic but since the kiss has taken over every last braincell of mine, i've been wondering what exactly makes him so. from the moment i read i want to do with you what isn't customary to say out loud, the with immediately struck me. not do to you but with. which could either mean what he wants them to experience together, as equals, or having her helpless and at his mercy, or both.

the verbal aspect of sex is what almost everyone gets wrong in media, especially when it comes to men. dirty talk is cheap, vulgar, and disgusting but why does cain do it so well? because he reveals just enough to leave you wondering, grasping desperately at your own imagination. i should've been crucified long ago for my thoughts about you. so what are you thinking? sublimating admitting to animal basal impulses, considered dirty and impure with so much grace and sensuality. saving all his confessions for such a significant moment, as they always step around each other and walk in circles, never saying anything outright so when he does it's shocking, outrageously hot.

and the inch he does give is painted vividly. where the blood boils and languid sighs fill the air.

he doesn't impose himself onto her, doesn't overpower her, make her smaller. it's more of an enveloping, surrounding, surrendering. he hardly touched her in the church, but his words and presence eclipsed the outside world, making sin religious.

while he is more, or even completely, dominant in their relationship, his dominance isn't to assert his desire onto her, but to allow the revealing of hers. he doesn't push her around, doesn't order her but carefully spins a web around her, trapping her senses, trapping her in a web of her own desires, disregarding her inhibitions. everything about him is subtle and slow and seductive, and every final decision has rested on her shoulders. in the church, he has his fingers over her stomach, he looks up, he waits. in the bathroom, he has her trapped between his body and the cross, he says his piece, he waits. only when she touches him back does he kiss her.

the power gap between them, purely antagonistic of the usual immortal/mortal ship, is blurred and coexisting. cain was the one laying out his cards, his barest desires and wants but it was lane who felt caught between his jaws, like this was her surrender. he was pulling the strings even as he was being vulnerable.

over all this, intimacy and understanding is the most erotic thing of all, and it was captured beautifully in the kiss scene. cain knew what i liked because we were so similar. cain being able to read all her nonverbal cues, to know which is permission. cain laying on her lap, talking about acceptance and understanding and eternity.

it's so rare to see a male character who is actually erotic, not vulgar and as a 'bring back real sensuality in media' girl i'm fucking up this buffet. i can't wait to see how this evolves in his later scenes and thank you taemin for birthing him.

[immamapletreekid]

HAIKYUU TIMESKIP GETTING ANIMATED!?@???!!?!?!?!?!!!!!!!!?!?!!

[s0dium]

THAT'S A RED FLAG BABY

JJK MEN AND RED FLAGS

A/n: Yessirrrr MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Synopsis: Jujutsu men and their red flag in a relationship or generally and how it shows through when they fuck

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Yuuta Okkatsu, Sukuna Ryomen, Choso

Warnings: Emotional abuse, narcissism, controlling behavior, dub-con, semi-public sex, spitting, fingering, rough sex, male masturbation, degrading, praise, teasing

~

Gojo Satoru- Narcissist  

Since he was a kid, Gojo has been praised and called many things

The honored one, the strongest, gifted and so on

But what people don't see is behind those beautiful sapphire eyes, is a goddamn narcissist through and through

He thinks, no he knows that he is the best, best at everything

This includes what goes on in bed.

And its not only that, the white-haired fox only cares about himself too in the sheets, abusing his unnatural stamina and using you like a cock sleeve for his own taste

At least he can be nice about it sometimes

Gojo is relentless. Its almost like your his personal cock sleeve, his dick shaping your insides and abusing your cervix despite your choked sobs and whines for him to stop, to simply slow down. He holds the back of your head with his hand, allowing you to look down at the way you two are connected; how he retracts his hips until his tip barely pokes out, admiring the slick coating his shaft before slamming back into you again.

"Ahhh~ P-please Satoru please...."

Gojo rolls his eyes and scoffs. Why were the people that surrounded him always so weak? Even you. It's a good thing you feel like heaven he could almost forgive you.

Tears stream down your face. Every time the tip of his dick rams against your cervix a powerful feeling mixed with pain and pleasure that surges through your body making you tremble and shake. You're losing your mind. Everything is so good, and, God, you can't ignore how handsome Gojo looks right now. His white hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, and the muscles of his toned abdomen are flexing and unflexing. He is gorgeous, and, boy, he knows it. Even the way your pussy squeezes and spasms around his dick sends more bolts of electric pleasure to dance through your skim.

"Shhhh, just take it 'kay? You're doing so good for me baby." Gojo coos.

Geto Suguru -Controlling

It starts off small, a comment here and there on your choice of friends, a small criticism on where you were going to spend the evening because wouldn't you have much more fun spending it with him?

Then he's starting to pick out outfits for you. Modest but pretty ones for outside but short skimpy clothes for when you're only with him. It even gets to the point where he is controlling your finances, making you only use his credit card, and its not about the money, you can use as much as you want for all he cares. It's about the control, you being helplessly reliant on him.

And Geto has such an easy time getting away with his controlling tendencies, showering you in praises and sweet nothings about how he just wants to protect you. And the way his violet eyes gleam at you, you almost always believe him.

Don't for a second think that he's insecure because it's far from it. The raven-haired man just wants to have you all to himself, he just wants to protect you from the cruel cruel world out there.

"Didn't I tell you to ask me first if you are going to wear an outfit like that?" Geto whispers in your ear but you can barely focus on his words. The curl of his fingers inside you is just too numbing; the way it hits, prods, and massages a spot deep inside your walls that you can only dream about reaching on your own. Geto's fingers are so thick too, almost filling you up as deliciously as his dick does. Almost. "Mmm- I- I, I didn't-" You gasp for air and try to bury your face into your hands. He currently has you against a wall of some bathroom stall but that fact seemed all but lost to you right now. The pleasure was building in your core and fast. Your legs were starting to shake and a numbing electric feeling had taken course throughout your body. You didn't have to open your eyes to know that Geto was smirking.

Suddenly, Goto curls his fingers in a way that deeply presses your g-spot and the dam of pleasure that had built inside you breaks. Your jaw goes slack and your whole body trembles with electricity.

"Didn't expect for you to crack so easily" he chuckles against your ear, and you collapse into his chest. Yuta Okkatsu- Too obsessed

You would think this is a good thing right? You could never love someone too much, but it was different with Yuuta

Sure you had a crush on him, sure you touched yourself to him plenty of times (which Yuuta knew of very well) so the feelings weren't all that unreciprocated

But theres a line, there's a line that Yuta always seems to cross

From taking pictures of you to texting you constantly, christ you even found your panties in his drawer, yuta love was overwhelming.

Yuuta knows that he should wake you up, but he cant bring himself too right now. You just look so beautiful, so perfect under the soft glow of the night sky. Also, he just feels so good right now, Yuuta can barely think so much as speak. "Mmmm-mmm" he whimpers against the pillow, slowly grinding his clothed erection against your bare leg. How would you react if you knew your boyfriend was humping you while you sleep? Would you push him away? No no you're too kind for that, you would probably help him, probably pet his hair and whisper sweet nothings until he finished. Yes, if he knew for a fact that you'd help him when you wake up, what's stopping you from helping you now? Careful not to wake you up, he picks up your hand. It's so small compared to his but wraps so well around his throbbing member. He glides your thumb across his red tip to collect the precum before slowly sliding your hand up and down. The pleasure is immediate. It makes him bury his face into your neck to to press sloppy, wet, hot, and bitten kisses along your skin.

Sukuna Ryomen- Sadist

Where to start with Sukuna. Sukuna is the red flag.

Actually, even that is a complete understatement. Sukuna is straight-up cruel, rather he is a sadist through and through.

Manipulation, degrading, humiliation....although he wouldn't physically abuse you, with emotional abuse he won't hesitate.

You expect compassion, sympathy, and kindness from him? Fat chance. It is hard to see Sukuna being in any relationship at all.

Sukuna certainly doesn't love you, but he sure does love the sex though

Like any good sadist, his sexual pleasure derives from your physical or emotional suffering.

"Aw look at you, fucked you dumb did I?" Sukuna chuckles. A tattooed hand snakes between to your cunt, lightly rubbing your clit before delivering a sharp slap to the nerve.

Your eyes widen and your hips instantly buck up, unintentionally sending his dick deeper into you. The position he has you in is brutal. Both of your legs are thrown over Sukuna's shoulders and pressed against your chest, effectively folding you in half. "Open ya mouth" He orders, but you are too lost in the pleasure that is blooming in your stomach, the pleasure that is making your cunt flutter and squeeze desperately around his fat cock. "I said open." Sukuna delivers a particularly harsh thrust before stilling inside you; keeping the tip of his dick smushed against your cervix. The sudden movement snaps you out of your haze and you obediently widen your mouth letting your tongue hang out. Sukuna lets a glob of spit fall from his lips onto your awaiting tongue. You don't need to be told to swallow, you do so on habit, giving him a soft smile as you do so.

"Fuck, ya so perfect, such a good girl."

Choso- Jealous 

Choso is the type of man who keeps to himself. The type of man to blend in a group or fade into the background.

But that doesn't mean he notices things. In fact, he notices things a bit too well.

Was that your coworker who touched your shoulder? You say that he is just a friend but who should a friend be able to touch you so easily?

He won't hesitate to bring up what he notices either, he says he's not accusing you of anything, that he trusts you, but he totally is.

He hates it when people get to close to his brothers so it posits that he loathes it when it comes to his lover.

How did you get here? How did an argument turn into this?

You want to scream, you want to thrash and tell Choso that he's got it all wrong, that you didn't mean to see your guy friend when you went out to have lunch. It was just a harmless bump-in that turned into a long conversation. Thats it. But the feeling of Choso's dick filling you up, his harsh thrusts and the fucking delicious friction of the drag, Jesus, it's just- it's just so good your mind that your mind is a white sheet.

You are on all fours but you don't know how much longer you can keep the position up. Not with the way he's ramming your pussy from behind.

“You are mine," he grunts out, pumping into you, the length and level of his arousal is brutal. "Mine," he swears, and he pulls you up so your back is pressed against him and you are upright. Choso doesn’t slow his movement though, giving you full, hard thrusts, your breasts bouncing up and down from the harshness of it all.

“You wanna cum? Good, cum."

[kenananamin]

Tie my tie, marry me

Summary: The moment Nanami knew he never wanted to tie his tie by himself ever again and wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. fluffy, nanami x fem!reader, nanami already loves everything you do but something about tying his tie was so intimate and special to him

It had been a year since Nanami officially asked you to be his girlfriend, but you had just started staying over during the weekdays. If either of you would stay at each other's houses, it would only be during the weekends when you both knew the next day could be dedicated to each other. Only recently had that unspoken rule changed.

You had both gone to the mall to shop for your new professional wardrobe and Nanami asked if he could buy a few extra things for you to keep at his house. You both knew what that implied and told him he could buy it, only if you could buy some stuff for him to keep at your house. You had both never been happier to spend more time and money at a crowded mall.

Nanami woke up a bit later for work than usual because of a power outage that turned off his alarm clock and did not charge his phone. You went into work after he did so you make his coffee and pack his lunch while he took a quick shower. You run into the bathroom to let him know he had less than 15 more minutes.

He steps out of the shower and grabs his razor to shave. You reach for the hairdryer he bought for you to keep at his house and start to dry his hair as he quickly shaves. You run out and start to rummage through his closet to set his clothes on the bed. Nanami finishes shaving and follows you out to get dressed.

"Shirt first, hurry," you take the shirt off the hanger and throw it to him.

Nanami begins to button the shirt when you get in front of him and start pulling his collar up and putting his tie around his neck. He looks at you with a questioning look and you quickly explain, "My dad taught me how to tie a tie. Never thought it'd come in handy since I never knew anyone who regularly wore a tie before you." You laugh at the memory but continue what you were doing to avoid making your boyfriend late.

Nanami however... his fingers stop buttoning his shirt. He looks at you, concentration and rush covering your features, but your fingers gently grazed his skin as you looped his tie. She's the first person to ever tie it for me, Nanami thinks. He had to learn how to do it from a video and was later corrected by some older male coworkers who showed him with their own ties.

The events of that morning finally dawn on him. You jumped out of bed right after you felt him jump out and started rushing around the apartment with him. He hadn't even mentioned that he was late, but you opened your eyes and knew what to do. He could smell the coffee from the room and heard the clanking of the leftover containers being opened and slid across counters from the shower. You dried his hair knowing that his route to work was not long enough to let it dry itself, and you took out exactly what he would have worn that day while he shaved. And now... there you stood before him, helping him tie his tie so his hands could do other things.

It seemed so... small. It was so small, so truly insignificant in the scale of life, something that could not hold weight in the world or change anything in the universe. But it changed his life, it was his favorite view in the world, and it would become his universe.

You look up at him and see him staring... and his hands not moving?! You move his hands away from the buttons and rush to finish buttoning it down. He takes your face in his hands and leans down to kiss you slowly. So very slow and soft. It stops you completely and you wrap your arms around his waist, relishing in the smell of his aftershave and body wash. Nanami deepens the kiss and moves an arm around your waist to pull you in closer. As much as you love when he pulls you in, the movement pulls you out of the kiss trance.

"Oh my god, Kento, hurry!! You're late, you're late!"

You step back and shove his pants into his arms. You tell him to hurry and that you'd grab his shoes to put by the door. You start yelling across the apartment that it would rain the entire afternoon and he needed to take the umbrella.

Nanami listens as you rustle through the closet looking for the umbrella and the light thud of what might have been his lunch bag and coffee thermal on the entryway table. He walks out the room putting on his suit jacket and sees you lightly jumping while telling him to hurry with his shoes.

Nanami leans down to tie his shoes but pauses after he's done. He goes to touch your bare leg since you hadn't even gotten dressed after waking up. You only wore his large shirt and underwear. He kneels and carefully lifts one leg to kiss your knee. He looks up from his kneeling position and says, "Thank you for helping. You really didn't have to."

His loving eyes close slightly while you lean down to give him one kiss as your response. "You're late," you whisper against his lips.

Nanami stands and takes his things while waving bye to you and your bed head. He heads out the door and begins a light jog to catch his regular train.

Yeap, she's the one, Nanami thinks.

Nanami spent his lunch break at the jewelry shop looking at rings that would look beautiful on your finger. There were so many engagement rings that would look gorgeous on you, but one caught his eye as he imagined that ring slightly moving on your finger as you tied his tie.

"I like that one. Do you have a size (your ring size) in stock?"

Nanami buys the ring at that moment and texts you to ask if he could come over to your house after work. He does not plan to propose on a regular Tuesday evening with no special plans, but he wants to hug you, smell your lovely perfume, take you some flowers, and give you a special thanks for helping him. And maybe, maaaayybe (most likely), stay over at your house to help him with his tie again the next morning.

[night-creeps]

Weirdest fricken cat in the whole wide world ❤️

[platypusisnotonfire]

This is an “I appreciate my cat” post.

[gloxk]

Sneaky linkin’

(Eren Y. Armin A. Connie S.)

A/N: i’m not COMPLETELY back, but I am making a slight improvement w my mental health… so here’s sum slight for yall🤷🏽‍♀️. I kinda hate this but maybe yall will like it..ion know. Luv ya tho. 17+.

Synopsis: Aot men as sneaky links.

Warning: Smut.. F/M

━━━━━━━⚠︎━━━━━━━

Eren! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ———Back seat bandit

Eren..is definitely a back seat bandit. It’s mainly because he has a nice car, why not show it off?

Now, all i’m going to say is (Persian rugs- jacquees version.) Oh lawwwd, he definitely plays that while giving the most sloppiest, nastiest, messiest, back arching back shots ever. This man does NOT play.

Hair puller, choker, dirty talker. He’s the type to make you tell him how good he’s fucking you. “Uh-huh, right there? You like that baby?” And you better tell him too.

The hair pulling thing just comes by instinct. You could be giving this man the sloppiest head ever, deep throating him till hes hitting the back of your esophagus and all. The type of head that makes him feel like he’s shifting reality. He will tug your hair to get a real good look at your face, saliva dripping down your chin and red coating your face. A face that just screams ‘ Am I making you happy?’. He would stare at you with a shit eating grin just while the camera flash hits your face.

Degrading as fuck. He would just say some shit to boost his ego during sex. “I know you like that shit, stop acting like you don’t.” & “You can scream my name louder than that. Try again.” & “Stop fuckin running.” Don’t be fooled now, he’s also going to talk you through it and give you reassurance. “You doin so good f’me.” & “it’s all yours mami.” & “You look so pretty right now.”

Ugh this man just loves to have his hand wrapped around your body. Around your waist, neck, thighs, hands—it don’t matter to him. He loves touching on you. Any time yall link his hands just find their way over your body.

Connie! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ——— Any time any where

Connie..is the type of guy who can fuck ANYWHERE. Car, room, closet, random family bathroom at a gas station—he don’t care.

If you’re down, he’s down. Y’all could be out shopping and he fucks you in the dressing room.

This man LOVES when you ride him. He would just watch you in awe while you bounce up and down on him.

Definitely a talker during sex, he loves telling you how good you’re doing. “Mhm—fuck—I love when you do that.” & “Cmoonn look at me while you do it.” & “Arch that back mama.”

Now, he’s a recorder. He records everything. He has a little folder in his phone dedicated to your link ups.

Although he’s gonna dick you down anywhere he can, his favorite place is the shower. Got some music playing in the background (P power - gunna) while he’s plowing into you. The shower couldn’t even cover up your loud moans.

Pull out ? Nah, “You wanna be grown, let’s be grown baby.” He doesn’t believe in wasting, so either you sucking it up or taking that shit.

Armin! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ——— munch

Armin..is an eater. He’s gonna eat like it’s his last meal every fucking time. His tongue game is vicious. Absolutely diabolical, the messiest head you will ever get.

Salvia dripping on the couch, tears falling from your eyes due to overstimulation, legs locking around his head—he still wouldn’t stop. He won’t stop till you force him to.

Hold on now, Armin ain’t just an eater, he got good dick too. He’s a saint that’s gonna fuck you like a sinner. Let him get some liquor in his system and you’re going to be begging for round 2.

Speaking of drunk Armin, he’s gonna fuck you against a wall. Just something that’s going to happen one way or the other. One leg in the air while the other dangles just above the floor, his hands gripping on your ass so hard it leaves a mark.

Oh it doesn’t stop there either, he’s going to stumble his way to the bed and take you there too.

Hella vocal whimpering, moaning, whispering. He’s going to let you know your pussy good. “God-you feel so fuckin good.” & “Please keep doing that.”

Loves teaching you new things, different kinks, positions, anything of the sort. I know he just loves exploring and experimenting things with you. He’s a freaky freak for sure. <3

━━━━━━━⚠︎━━━━━━━

whore…

[ddejavvu]

For Tyler Owens x shy!reader maybe it’s their first time sharing a bed at a motel after tornado chasing? Nothing sexual just like sharing a bed and being shy about it?

Heartbeat - Tyler Owens x Reader

please send me tyler owens requests!

You've always been envious of the universal man-ability to fall asleep within seconds of their heads hitting the pillow, but now you're feeling the hurt worse than ever. It's well past one in the morning, Tyler's been asleep for over an hour, and you've been staring at a suspicious patch of something that's probably mold in the corner of the motel room ceiling.

It's not the nicest place, but you're stranded in the middle of a backroad stretch of Arkansas, so any place with a roof, even a moldy one, is a nice place.

Tyler's phone rings, technically set to vibrate but humming nevertheless as it lights up the room. You're expecting him to sleep right through it but he stirs, extending a lazy hand to press at the power button until it stops buzzing. Then, with a hefty grunt, he heaves over onto his side, and comes sleepy-face to sleepy-face with you.

"Oh," He starts, eyes widening from where they'd been barely open, "You're-" He clears his throat, his voice raspy, "You're awake, darlin'?"

His strong arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you close, drawing you into warmth you hadn't accumulated yourself despite laying for the same length of time. You huddle into it even though there's a fire burning your cheeks and scalding your mind.

When you don't answer, Tyler rambles sleepily, "Sorry, my- m'phone was goin' off. Some scam caller, 'm pretty sure. Were you-" A yawn cuts through his words, "Awake before that?"

"Mhm," You nod, thankful for the sanctuary of his clothed chest despite it being the reason you're so flustered.

"You ever get to sleep, sweet thing?"

That's the million-dollar question. Million-dollar question meaning the one you'd pay a million dollars to avoid answering.

Your answering hum is non-committal at best, but Tyler seems to know there's a reason you hadn't flat-out said yes.

"My poor baby," He frowns, bleary but still concerned, as he pulls back to free your face from his chest. You're still encircled by his impressive arm, though, and you can't meet his eye as he stares down at you.

"What's'a matter, honey-bun?"

"Hm?"

"Why can't you sleep?" He asks, then guesses, "Is it the smell'a mildew that's comin' off of everything?"

His bluntness startles you into laughter, but you know he expects an answer from the way he maintains your gaze, sympathy shining in his sweet, sleepy eyes.

Now starts the squirming, "Um, I dunno. I guess the bed's just not too comfy," You prod at the cheaply-made mattress beneath you, "And- I think I'm just not used to sleeping with other people, y'know, and then the bathroom fan makes a weird noise even when it's off-"

Your attempts to bury the lede had failed. Tyler's brows furrow and he leans in, your nose-to-nose positioning only making your bashfulness worse as he murmurs, "Is this the first time you're sharin' a bed with anyone, sweet thing?"

Even the little details, the soft gust of his breath on your face as he watches you makes your insides crawl with mortification. You're so close, and he's so there, and he's finally figured out that you've never done anything like this before, and- god, how do you play this off?

"No, I have, I- I've had, y'know, sleepovers with friends and, um, I had a cat growing up, that kind of thing. Just not-" You break away when your eyes flicker over his, and you hold eye contact for as long as possible, "Not like this. Nothing like this."

Tyler doesn't laugh, even though he probably really wants to. Even though you've probably made a complete fool out of yourself, and he's going to snicker at your predicament with his friends later, he doesn't laugh, and instead he- he presses a soft, barely-there kiss to your forehead.

"I think I'm a little more involved than a cat," He hums gently, "Are you okay with me touchin' you like this, angel baby?"

His arm is around your waist, and his face is up against your own- that's it. He's not getting handsy, not venturing lower than necessary or trying to shove his large hands beneath your clothes.

"You're not touching me." You attempt to answer, "Or- well, you are, but-"

"But it doesn't matter what I mean by it if you don't like it. So is it okay?"

You consider the feeling of his strong arm tucking you tight into his chest, as well as the intoxicating feeling of each breath he takes being fanned over your face, a privilege you hope you're the only one to have experienced.

"Yeah," You melt into his arms, even squirming closer as he lets you lead, "This is okay. It's- I like it."

"Good." He murmurs, and you feel it more than hear it from the way you're nestled against his chest, "What normally helps you fall asleep? Cat breath?"

"Maybe," You laugh, recalling your tuna-scented companion, "But I don't know. Just- this is nice. Your breathing and," You pause, listening, "The beat of your heart."

Tyler's fingers freeze a beat before they curl against your scalp, raking gently and soothingly through your hair.

"Good." He repeats, and you swear this one sounds shakier, almost thicker than the last one, "That's it, sweet thing, relax. I'll make sure you get to sleep. And tomorrow I'll act like a gentleman, 'won't just collapse into bed and get to snorin'. before you've even brushed your teeth."

Your laugh is the last one you release for the night- the last sound altogether besides the soft breathing that evens in your chest, and it's all funneled into Tyler's chest like a prize he's won.

[icypopz]

bathing with them ♡

↬ request from anon ; Hiiii may I pls request the love and deepspace boys with a reader who loves taking baths with them??

↬ notes ; rafayel, xavier, zayne x gn!reader

↬ from ice ; ice active era?! jk we all know i'm lying atp HAHAHA but here's my annual post which is also my first post for LADS :> i changed the prompt a bit but i hope u enjoy !

↬ warning(s) ; tiny spoilers for rafayel's backstory, xavier's is like microscopically suggestive

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

[ rafayel ! ]

rafayel absolutely adores taking baths with you, even though he loves to tease you about being too clingy (he's actually the clingy one, but he'll never admit it for the world). he loves just chilling in the bathtub with you, especially on winter nights where he'll pull you closer in the hot water, complaining that "i need more warmth! protect me from the cold, miss bodyguard!"

he would get playfully annoyed when you joke about wanting to see his mermaid tail when he gets into the bathtub, scolding you about how lemurians also have powers to lure humans in and he'll be doing that to you if you don't get in the bath with him "right now!" also rafayel doesn't really like rubber ducks, he says it's weird that humans like to put toys like that in the water when they could just go swim in a lake if they wanted to see ducks. but! he does love bubble baths, he loves to put the bubbles in your hair, and when you make a beard for him with the foam, he finds it the cutest ever.

rafayel definitely has like several hundred bottles of soap, shampoo and conditioner in varying scents, claiming that their fragrance was so inspiring he just had to buy all of them. (the truth is, he wasn't sure which one you'd like so he just bought everything.) it's really helpful for when you stay over at his place though, you don't have to worry about packing a vanity case because he keeps everything ready for you, from your favourite toothpaste to a spare toothbrush. he also loves seeing you wrapped up in a towel, he thinks you look so adorable.

more content utc !

[ xavier ! ]

xavier isn't picky, he doesn't mind using either a bathtub or a shower, but after you visit him a couple of times, you definitely tell him he should use the shower instead. he always ends up falling asleep while he's soaking in the bathtub! he definitely loves showering with you though, he'll always do stuff like scrub your back or help comb through your tangled hair without you needing to ask. but it's almost impossible for both of you to bathe quickly, because you always end up getting distracted. who can you blame you though? it's not your fault xavier is so muscled from all his training!

xavier is the type who showers in freezing cold water, but he's willing to compromise if you don't like that. he ends up realising that hot water is more fun because he gets to write silly messages and draw hearts for you on the glass since it gets fogged up from the steam. also xavier's brain would totally crash the first time he showered with you, it would be that one tender night card all over again except better LOL. he's just that obsessed with you, you're the prettiest person with the best personality he's ever seen!

xavier would be one of those guys that has like the '10-IN-1! SHAMPOO, CONDITIONER, SOAP!' soap bottles. it's not that he isn't bothered about hygiene, he just finds it a lot simpler to use one single bottle for everything, and it evidently works for him since his skin is so clear and his hair is so fluffy. but ever since you've started staying over, xavier takes note of your favourite soaps and stocks up on them (especially after you tease him for that pitiful bottle of soap in his bathroom - he's the type to squeeze out every single last drop of soap from the tube so the bottle definitely looks like it has been through The Horrors).

[ zayne ! ]

zayne would usually prefer showering over bathing usually, because he's used to maximising time for work in his schedule, so he likes everything in his personal life to be extremely efficient. but once he starts dating you, that does kind of change. on days where he doesn't have to rush into work for urgent cases, or nights after a hectic day, he enjoys relaxing with you in the bathtub - it's a little slice of heaven for him to have you pressed up against him in the warm water.

zayne likes using his evol to tease you while you're showering. though he isn't usually a playful person and his humour is quite dry, the intimacy of being in such close proximity to him makes him act up a little LOL. so when you ask him to soap your back or anything like that, he'll purposely make his fingertips cold so you shiver when he touches you. "zayne!" you'll scold him, and he'll just let out a soft chuckle before doing what you actually asked him to.

zayne would just have the bare minimum essentials in his bathroom, but i also think he would be the type to buy in bulk so he only has to go out shopping once in a while. this way, when his soap runs out he can just get a new bottle from his cupboard. he likes going into his bathroom and seeing little traces of you all over the room, like your toothbrush in his cup or your favourite soap on his shelf - it makes him happy because it's like a reminder of you even when you aren't there.

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠

© icypopz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: König x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, periods sex, blood play but not really(?), softie König

A/n: very self-indulgent. My periods are as tough as ever and there’s no one to comfort me, so I guess I’ll have to do it myself🥲

König didn’t really know much about periods. Well, of course he knew what menstruation is and that every woman has it once a month, but that was pretty much it. So when you started dating poor guy saw how things really were in female world.

He noticed how moody you would become a week prior your periods, how snappy you’d react to his harmless teasing. König noted your craving for sweets as well, and how angry and sad you’d be over a few pimples that appeared so unwelcomed on your precious face. And König felt truly sorry for you - it was clear as day that you were a hormonal mess, and there wasn’t anything he could do to help you, no matter how much he wanted to.

And then your periods finally came. König watched you get up suddenly from your spot on the couch, rushing straight to the bathroom. He was a bit confused - you were all snuggled up together, watching a movie you picked - did something happen? He knocked on the bathroom door softly, asking if everything was good - a few moments later you opened the door, sour expression on your face as you scrunch up the wrap from the pad. “Yeah, my periods started” you mumbled begrudgingly, your lips pulled in a small pout.

König who just couldn’t bear seeing his precious baby in pain, did everything in his power to comfort you. He wrapped his warm strong arms around your frail form, cuddling you into his chest. His fingers grazed gently the soft skin of your tummy where it ached, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, scattering small kisses wherever he could reach.

König did his research on how to ease menstrual pains. Painkillers, massage, yoga. But what particularly caught his attention - almost every article he’d read said that orgasm is a great way to get rid of cramps - not only healthy but pleasurable as well. So of course he suggested you just that.

König was so sad to see you this fearful and hesitant - “Baby, it’ll make a huge mess. Everything will be covered in blood and I don’t want you to get yourself dirty and-“ you rambled on, his eyes growing wide with every word you said. “Y/n, what are you even talking about?” He interrupted you softly, huge hands coming to cup your cheeks and he looks into your eyes deeply.

“Do you really think a bit of blood will stop me from fucking my amazing sexy girl? If you don’t want this - it’s okay, but please don’t think that I’m disgusted by you bleeding” he said it so earnestly, kissing both of your cheeks reassuringly. König hated the idea of you being self-conscious about absolutely natural processes in your body. So when you nodded shyly, slightly spreading your legs for him to settle in between them, König couldn’t contain a wide grin, even while kissing you passionately.

So with a thick towel under your hips, König got to work - lapping away at your poor pussy, smearing a mixture of your blood, slick and his own saliva all over his cheeks, gazing up at you drunkenly, moaning into your folds at the taste and smell of you. His fingers gently pumped in and out of your sopping cunt, marveling at the wetness blood provided, how easily three of his thick digits slipped into your sensitive cunny.

And only after making you cum on his mouth two times, König decided to fully indulge you, getting his heavy cock out of his boxers. With gentle move of his hips he sunk right into your velvety warmth, penetration as easy as ever due to blood lubrication. He went as gentle as ever, noting how overly sensitive you were - way more than usual. König made sure to not go too deep, to not disturb your poor uterus even more.

König was so sweet, rubbing your clit non-stop, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of your soft beautiful body. He scattered kisses all over your neck and chest, careful to not graze your sore from hormones nipples. And only when you couldn’t take no more - a trembling sweaty mess in his loving arms, babbling and whimpering deliriously, he allowed himself to finally cum on your twitching tummy.

König fucked you so good it took you several minutes to regain consciousness - with bleary eyes you looked up to him, your breath hitching slightly. Here was your boyfriend sitting next to you, grinning from ear to ear; lower half of his face was completely covered in dried blood, his hands and lower stomach glistening with dark red. That would definitely look terrifying if you didn’t know what exactly he was just doing.

“So how are your cramps?” He asked, his white teeth contrasting with brownish-red on his cheeks and lips. You closed your eyes in exhaustion, sinking deeper into soft pillows.

“Gone” you said, making König’s smile brighten impossibly more.

And yes, he’d definitely joke about being a vamp from this day on🙄

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writers some love, we live off feedback<3

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ MEET ME IN THE AFTERGLOW ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ post-sukuna fight: no victory comes without a loss, and his win came at the cost of his eyesight

contents: fem!reader. some combination of hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff.

author's note: inspired by levi at the end of aot ꨄ︎

7:58 PM

satoru gojo had always had the best eyes. sorcerer, curse, human – you could search the whole world, and nobody else would even come close.

but the aftermath of satoru's fight with sukuna changed everything. after a long, painful battle, satoru came out on top, but at a great cost. his eyes.

dying wishes are powerful, especially from a curse as strong as sukuna. right before the king of curses was done for, he pooled everything he had left into a final attack to ensure that satoru gojo would never be the same. he succeeded.

now, almost a week after the fight, long after the dust settled and peace had reclaimed the jujutsu society, satoru still insists on wearing his blindfold around the clock.

no matter what you try or how you ask, he stubbornly refuses let you see underneath. actually, it'd be more accurate to say that he doesn't respond at all. after all, to your dismay, he's a master at avoiding questions and delaying answers.

you weren't even sure if there was any change to how he looked. maybe he looked the exact same underneath. maybe he had a couple scars. fuck, for all you knew he didn't even have eyes at all anymore.

you just wish he would let you see the new him. he doesn't even have it that bad – thanks to six-eyes, he can still see the silhouettes of cursed energy. and he wore a blindfold most days anyway, so it wasn't too much of a change.

which is why you weren't sure why he wouldn't just take the damn blindfold off.

"satoru, please let me see," you beg, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "i miss your pretty face. and honestly, who wears a blindfold to bed?"

he laughs at your incredulous question, but it sounds forced and unnatural. satoru tugs his arm away and waves you off. "let me take a shower, 'kay? i just got out of work, and i'm probably covered in germs."

you hate this new satoru – the one who won't let you get too close or even see his face anymore. he just won't open up to you, and it's frustrating. "satoru, please? let me in."

at the sound of your pleading voice, satoru rests one hand on the bathroom door and sighs before turning around to face you. he's smiling, but it seems so off – like all his smiles do nowadays.

"you try'n to watch me shower, sweetheart?" he cracks, running a hand through his hair. "i know you love seeing me naked, but-"

"satoru." 

"get off my dick," he grumbles lightly, before strolling into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. maybe you imagine it, but you could swear that you hear the soft click of a lock turning.

10:34 PM

"good night, sweetheart," satoru mumbles, pressing his lips to your shoulder and rolling over onto his side. he still has his blindfold on, and the almost undetectable glow eminating from his skin shows that he has a very subtle form of limitless active.

it's been like this every night.

"satoru, can we talk?" you whisper, trailing a hand through his damp white hair. "please?"

"is it about the blindfold?"

"obviously."

he sighs and rolls over again to face you, the soft glow fading from his skin. "give it a rest, yeah?" he says, exasperated. "i'm not ready for anyone to see."

"satoru, even you don't know what your eyes look like under the blindfold," you murmur. "and do you really trust me that little?"

he lifts one of his hands and rests it on your shoulder, thumb tracing circles as he leans in and says "of course i trust you."

you shake your head and sit up, pressing your back against the headboard. "no, you don't."

"then why'd you as-"

"why do you sleep with limitless on now?" you interject, crossing your arms. "what happened to 'i never have limitless on around you'?" you whisper, quoting something he told you when you two first starting dating. back when he could look you in the eye.

satoru sighs again and sits up alongside you. "you know why."

"you seriously think i'd do that?"

"i..." he trails off, slipping a finger underneath his blindfold to rub one of his eyes. "i don't know. all i know is that i'm not ready for anyone to see me like... this." 

"satoru, you can't keep running away from everyone forever," you say, shaking your head again. "you-"

"i know, i know," he mutters. "it's not that simple."

he's stubborn – he always has been. and you're mostly used to it, which is why you know that the best way to get satoru to change his mind on something is to ease him into it instead of pushing and shoving.

so you switch gears, and instead of arguing more you reach out and take his hand. "what are you afraid of?"

"nothing. i'm the strongest," satoru replies automatically. the response sounds so automated, so pre-written that you can't help but smile. 

"okay," you say neutrally, trying to reword your question. "why don't you want to show me what your eyes look like? you've haven't even seen them yourself."

satoru smiles sourly and his hands curl into white-knuckled fists around the bedsheets. "and i never will. i'm blind now, remember, sweetheart?" his words are laced with bitterness, even (and especially) in the final word. 

but it wasn't you who satoru was resentful towards. it was himself. 

how could he have so foolishly let down his guard before sukuna was confirmed to be dead? how could he let his characteristic arrogance get the better of him? he made the same mistake when he was a teen, and now he's done it again as the strongest – although this event may have stripped him of his title.

a mixture of emotions crosses what little you can see of his face, and it's now more than ever that you wish you could be there for him. 

but he's the only one alive who knows what it's like to be the strongest.

so as much as you wish you could tell him that everything's going to be okay and that he'll always be the strongest, you know damn well that you don't know and that he might not be.

somehow, this conversation has evolved from your desire to see his face to something more.

a silent, mutual understanding passes between you and satoru, and the thickness in the air slowly dissolves. 

"sorry," you breathe. "i was being selfish, wasn't i?"

satoru shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. "nah, you're right. i don't even know what i look like."

he lifts a hand and slips his thumb underneath his blindfold, and after a brief moment of hesitation, slides it off.

to your surprise, satoru looks more or less the same. his eyes aren't cloudy and they still glow with that familiar bright blue. the only difference, which was expected, was how his eyes didn't quite settle on you. they were pointed in your direction, but his eyes didn't entirely focus on you.

"so?" satoru asks, running a finger over his eyes. "how bad is it?"

"satoru, you look the same."

he blinks and doesn't answer for a second, as if he's processing the information. "really?" he asks, an unreadable expression on his face.

"yep."

"oh. well, that was anticlimactic," satoru says with a lopsided grin. he leans forward and scoots down from his spot against the headboard, laying his head on a pillow and pulling you on top of his chest. "my bad."

"you idiot," you mumble, pressing your face into his neck. "i didn't get to see your pretty face for a whole week."

"ah, i believe it was only six days."

"and satoru, you even turned on limitless at night! the hell would i even do? cut your blindfold off in the middle of the night?" you grumble, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. "and i can't believe that the only reason you didn't want to show me your face is because you thought you weren't pretty anymore!"

satoru grins lazily and rests one of his hands on your waist, slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts and idly rubbing your skin.  "keep venting, sweetheart. it's cute."

he laughs when you swat him with another pillow and pulls you in for a long kiss. and that's when you know that things might never go back to how they were in satoru's glory days. 

but as the night falls and slips away in satoru's arms, you think that maybe, just maybe, this works too.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hi you beautiful person, I'd like to send in a request for the 1k Follower Celebration 😊 I'd leek to read about the CoD men and sllep positions with a chubby reader. I always imagine Price cuddles when I can't fall asleep, how his beard would tickle, how he'd stroke my hair aside to give me a forehead kiss and sternly tell me to fall asleep. Or maybe falling asleep on top of Soaps muscles and listening to his heartbeat, or watch Gaz do a face cleanse before snuggling. Or lying next to a stiff and unmoving Ghost just to wake up with him curled around me *sigh* T'is would be the dream.

Thanks so much, love ☺️

Oh, you absolute sweetheart, thank you so much! I love this prompt so much! And with a chubby reader? Yes! We need more representation in that regard. I hold all my weight in my hips, thighs, and butt, and it makes me so self-conscious all the time. Maybe that’s why I always dive into scenarios like your prompt and imagine being loved and appreciated for what I have. In a way, you’ve already answered the prompt a bit, but I will absolutely add to it. Thank you for sending this prompt in! I appreciate you so much!! <3

I did keep some of the descriptions vague so that readers of all shapes and sizes can see themselves snuggled up with any of the 141!

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

1k follower event rules

Word Count: 813

There are some suggestive themes in this, so, per that warning, MDNI

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist

John Price

John loves to cuddle. He loves touching you. He loves being close. Doesn’t matter if you can’t sleep or he can’t, John needs to be touching you. It’s almost an impulse to do so. The moment you or him slips under the sheets, John is reaching out, his large hands grasping, dragging you against him.

John will always be big spoon.

With you wrapped up in his arms, there is nothing sweeter. His beard his prone to scratching your skin but you don’t care. What matters is how he can make you feel. If you can’t sleep, John will do everything in his power to soothe you through gentle words, soft touches, and even softer kisses. There is only intimacy with no intention of initiating anything. He only wants you to be comfortable.

If John is struggling to sleep, all he needs is for you to curl up against him, and to run his hands over your body. He loves squeezing your thighs and hips, running his hands up and down your legs. He only wants his hands full of you, to know that you’re with him. It grounds him. Makes him calm.

That is how John likes to fall asleep. Upon waking, he might shift a bit, but he’s still touching you.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

More like Kyle “Skincare Routine” Garrick. This guy loves routine and he wants to do routine with you before bed. While a his and her bathroom sink setup is lovely, he prefers one sink and mirror just because he doesn’t want to be far from you. Face cleanse? Got it. Hydrating mask? Can do. Doesn’t matter as long as he does it with you.

Kyle also enjoys a shower before bed and will often pull you in with him just to have some intimacy. It’s not necessarily for sexual reasons, but to just spend a little extra time with you that he doesn’t always get during the day.

Where John is a full on cuddler, Kyle likes more of a snuggle, and prefers being little spoon. He loves feeling your cheek pressed to his back and your arms around him. Kyle is quick to hold your hand and kiss your knuckles before the two of you drift off.

John “Soap” MacTavish

Soap wants you as the blanket.

He doesn’t need the comforter, a weighted blanket, or any of the bedsheets. He only wants you draped over him at bedtime. Your warmth and body pressed against him is soothing.

Soap prefers it if you’re both naked during bed. Skin against skin is what he loves best. Again, it’s not always a sexual thing (although he totally takes advantage when he can) but an intimacy thing. He wants you almost on top of him, cheek pressed against his chest, to feel your heartbeat along with this. Soap wants to be able to rub your back and kiss the top of your head.

As much as it is for him, it is also for you. It provides a sense of safety and comfort. While the muscles can be a bit hard to lay on, Soap does have some softness in his chest and stomach. Yes, he is all muscle, but his body is built from years in the field. This isn’t a gym rat body. This is pure strength and protection. Even if you’re the blanket, there is something comforting about it.

However, by morning, the two of you are significantly shifted. Might still be snuggled up but likely no longer a blanket.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Ghost is a boulder. I truly believe this man is a stiff, unmoving board at bedtime. He gets into bed and is asleep almost immediately. Ghost is the kind of guy that could fall asleep anywhere and everywhere on command.

Ghost also as a habit of either going to bed before you or after you. It’s not habit more like it depends on the day he’s had. If he’s the one who is in bed first, this man is an unmoving rock. He also spreads out which makes attempting to move him even worse. So, you end up curling up around his unmoving form.

On the opposite side of this, when Ghost goes to bed after you’ve already fallen asleep, he does his best not to wake you. When he slides into bed beside you, he might brush your hair out of your face or admire you for a bit before settling in beside you.

However, in the mornings, Ghost is always curled around you, one arm draped over your waist and curled under your stomach to keep you snuggled against his body. You never know when he does that in the middle of the night, and Ghost never knows when he does it either. It just happens in his sleep, like his body craves you and simply needs to pressed close.

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[zephyrchama]

(Obey Me! Belphegor and MC. The problem with naps.)

You were in trouble.

It had been several hours since you were able to move. Your legs were heavy, most likely numb. You wanted nothing more than to kick and stretch out your neglected muscles. The battery on your D.D.D. was running low.

Belphegor was deaf to the world, his nose buried in your naval with arms coiled around your waist. He was the world's clingiest lap blanket. Despite bending his knees, Belphegor's feet stuck out over the edge of the couch. You had tried fruitlessly over the hours to wake him, but things were getting dire.

You poked at his cheek. Slow and soft at first, but with increasing intensity until you reached a point where Leviathan himself would have recruited you for a button-mashing game.

"Belphie. Belphegor. Belphegor. Belphie. Belph. Belphegor. Hey!!"

You whacked his forehead with your D.D.D. There was no response. You sunk back into the couch cushions to create a bit of distance between your stomach and the demon's face. The next plan was to pinch his nose.

This was also futile. Belphegor clearly stopped inhaling and appeared fine, but such a length of time without breathing would cause brain damage in humans. It disturbed you. He was probably fine, being a demon and all. It was still concerning. You squeezed his nostrils until the excessive passage of time made you uncomfortable and let go. A couple of seconds went by before Belphegor breathed in with a loud snore. Any sense of relief was quickly and easily washed away by annoyance.

You groaned and leaned forward over the demon's head, placing your elbows on the edge of your knees to better cradle your face in your hands with despair. You balled your hands into fists, pressing them against your forehead, and let out a wail.

"Belphie, I'm begging you. Wake up."

Silence. You felt like you were going to explode.

"I have to pee."

You might as well have been talking to a large rock. The demon's weight on your lower stomach was not helping the situation. In an ideal world, you would have reached the bathroom over an hour ago. You leaned back once more and stared dismally at the sleeping figure in your lap. You were running out of options.

"Hear me, Denizens of Darkness. I am Master of Belphegor, Avatar of Sloth. Heed my call and do as I command. Get off of me!"

Wisps of magic curled up your arms, dancing across your neck and face. Its light made everything brighter. Traces of powerful energy - Belphegor's own energy - blew through your hair, whooshing past your ears. Belphegor was forcefully shifted into his demon form and rolled off the couch with all the grace of a baby chick learning to fly.

A deep rumble escaped his throat at the rude awakening. Belphegor lifted himself up in a daze. The fluff on his tail stood on edge as it swung turbulently from side to side. He clenched his jaw, barring his teeth menacingly. "What are you doing?"

You had already seized the chance to leap up. Only, your legs betrayed you. There was no strength to stand and you fumbled over onto Belphegor, colliding with his back. You both momentarily flailed on the ground.

"Explain yourself," he growled while you struggled to stand. Blips of magic were evaporating off your clothes, adding to the disorientation.

"Carry me!" you demanded. "That'll be faster, you've gotta carry me."

Even if you buckled your legs together to hold things in, you worried that wobbling down the hallway with jelly legs would be an impossible endeavor.

Belphegor looked at you the same way he would look at a diseased toad. With no context, he was wholly confused.

"I need the bathroom, now!" It was all you could think of. Magic started swirling at your wrists again as you began to chant, "Heed my words, in the name of the sorcerer..."

"Ok, ok! Wait!" Belphegor scrambled to his feet. He winced at the thought of being commanded again. His chest tightened, already afflicted by the start of your spell.

You had your knees locked together, digging your nails into your palm in a desperate attempt to hold your bladder in. It wasn't the best pose for being picked up. Belphegor did his best. He couldn't carry you in the elegant, suave manner he liked to dream about. Instead, he held you with both arms like an oversized bag of potatoes.

"Go, go, go!" Time was of the essence. He was slow to get a move on, so you beat on his shoulder with your fist. "This is all your fault!"

Belphegor blew a strand of hair out of his face. His expression was a sour frown. He was still cranky from being woken up. "Fine. Just hang on."

You don't get to see the demons use their abilities often. They like to play human in front of you. Unfortunately, with your head buried in Belphegor's hoodie and your mind occupied with other worries, you did not have the luxury to admire the way he bounded through the house with hardly perceptible speed. In just a few quick steps, not even five seconds later, you had arrived at your long-awaited destination.

You rolled out of Belphegor's arms and hastily slammed the door shut in the confused demon's face.

The Avatar of Sloth skulked across the hall to lean against the wall opposite the bathroom door. Now alone with his thoughts, he had ample time to get his mind in order and plan out exactly how to get revenge when you came back out.