#if we submitted asks by writing something down. and then we answered by writing something down

[solar-halos]

handwriting challenge! shoutout to mia (@the-sun-and-the-sea) for starting a handwriting trend

[zillychu]

I’ve gotten a WAVE of asks about this AU, so I decided to flesh it out some more and answer some of those questions!

I’ll probably polish this extended summary up at some point and submit it to AO3. But for now, here’s a rundown of my thoughts–please feel free to send more questions! I’ll update this post if I get any more. But if you’re someone who wanted to write fic for it, don’t worry, you don’t need to take my headcanons as gospel. It’s a pretty basic AU honestly lol

Summary:

The portal accident results in a violent explosion that wipes out the whole block, and condemns all of Amity Park. Danny haunts the city for 100 years, before Sam and Tucker find him. 

Setup:

In the 1920’s, 19-year-old Danny went into the incomplete portal on his own, hoping to help out his parents. Ripping the portal open through unnatural means created a huge burst of energy that resulted in a massive explosion. A good portion of the Amity Park population died, many were injured, and the ones on the fringes relocated–Amity was quickly deemed too dangerous due to the excess ectoplasm in the area that attracted ghosts. 

While the disaster was in Amity, the fallout was seen around the globe. Before, natural portals were rare, short-lived, and rarely allowed ghosts to fully slip into our realm (the most severe cases being on par with poltergeists that most people didn’t believe in). Now, natural portals pop open frequently around the world, large enough to allow the entirety of a ghost into the physical plane. They’re more common the closer you get to Amity, but they happen enough elsewhere that this change was something of a small apocalypse before people settled back down and found out how to combat at least some of their new, permanent neighbors. 

Danny is unaware that he’s only half-dead, believing he’s a full ghost. He ends up sticking around Amity, unintentionally making it his haunt. His grief and guilt over causing the death of his loved ones (and many others) makes him isolate and avoid human contact. Though he has, at times, scared nosy people away from the city in a mix of territorial instinct–and to get them to leave before a less friendly ghost finds them. 

Ghosts are much more of an uncontested danger in this AU. Lesser ghosts are practically mindless, and while stronger ghosts are capable of reason, their interests are limited. They’re highly territorial, possessive, and often destructive. Most worrisome is that they also like to snack on the life force of anything alive. No one is sure what dictates a ghost’s propensity to attack or hunt the living for their life force since ghosts don’t exactly experience hunger. At least, not the way we do. If a human is rescued before their life force is fully drained, they can make a full recovery–though humanity has still not yet found what this “life force" is. 

And since the Fentons’ research died along with them, there aren’t many tools available to the public to protect them from ghosts. Most homes have standard ghost shields and some weapons are available on the market, but certified ghost hunters are required to take care of anything more powerful than your average spook. 

Sam and Tucker met in high school, and are now rooming together for college very close to the Amity border. Rent is surprisingly cheap when you’re a stone’s throw away from a condemned area crawling with ghosts. Sam is the one who drags Tucker along with her fascination over finding out more about the city, and its largely mysterious demise. Sam is aware of the danger, but feels ghosts have a place in this world just like everything else, and does exercise caution–like one would while foraging in the woods with a known tiger population. 

What she and Tucker weren’t expecting was to run into a ghost that felt almost human. One that hasn't hurt them, not for lack of trying–while being powerful enough to walk past ghost shields without so much as a flinch. The long white hair is familiar in the whispers of the ectobiologist community, but there’s no way it could be the rumored ghost king Phantom, right?

About Danny:

He has very long hair, claws, and black sclera. His hazmat suit is more torn and ragged, with exposed hands and feet that fade into a burnt black.

His hair tends to float a lot on its own. It can start morphing into fire under duress. 

He does still technically have gloves and boots, they've just charred and melted into his skin towards the ends. He can't take them off in his ghost form. His hands and feet have a leathery texture that's tougher than the rest of his skin.

The white of his hazmat suit is both supposed to look like flames, and also a battered look representing his more violent, explosive death.

Overall, he appears rather listless and sad, with an unnerving air of danger around him–even for a ghost. 

Danny’s “ghost sense” comes out as white smoke.

He does breathe black smoke at times, usually when agitated. 

He's already fought and defeated Pariah Dark by the time Sam and Tucker find him, technically making him the Ghost King. This is heavily speculated by ghost experts, despite there being no real proof beyond a massive battle that scarred Illinois. He has not donned the Ring or the Crown, and captured sentient ghosts are hesitant to answer questions surrounding him. Danny basically has the throne but doesn’t do anything with it, and finds it meaningless enough to routinely forget he has the title. He only fought Pariah because he knew otherwise, humanity would have perished. A lot of ghosts are scared of him because he's so hard to figure out, and he's strong. 

Danny is usually very quiet and speaks softly, because his lungs were damaged in the blaze that half-killed him. He's technically healed since becoming a ghost, so it's more of a compulsion due to the traumatic memory. That, and he’s just… very forlorn and distant, shy around humans who don’t seem to understand how dangerous it is to keep hanging around him.

His memories pre-accident are extremely fuzzy. He knows the very basics of who he was, but specifics have been muffled due to trauma and isolation. He routinely forgets human habits, etiquette, etc. and tends to act more like a full ghost with some odd quirks. 

He does try to scare Sam and Tucker off numerous times. Unfortunately for him, they realized they shouldn't have been able to escape a ghost that strong–but they did, because he let them. 

Sam and Tucker think he's mute at first! He doesn't speak a word to them until several encounters later, when he fumbles his whole scary act and saves them from another ghost. 

He’s still half-ghost, though he doesn’t figure this out until Sam and Tucker come along trying to unravel the mysteries behind the Amity catastrophe. Physically and emotionally, he’s been stuck for 100 years–so his human form is still 19. It’s unclear at this point if he can age normally like a human as long as he stays in human form, or if he’s immortal. 

Danny's family did not turn into ghosts, though he sometimes worries he'll find them in the afterlife as shells of their former selves. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he's not sure he'd recognize them. 

(Danny also still has some living family. Take a guess.)

Yes, he knows how to Wail. Understandably, he very rarely uses it. You do not want to witness this.

Danny :) is not immune :) from the allure of eating a human's life force :)))

[simplygojo]

The Cool Uncle Blurbs - JJK Men

author's note ⸺ Heyyy, so I have been told by a few of y'all that I need to write shorter blurbs, so this was my practice piece! Each character's blurb is about 1k each...writing something this short is so foreign to me, I am so used to having 8k minimums for school, so this may take practice! Please let me know if you like these shorter blurbs :)

pairings ⸺ Toji Fushiguro x reader; Satoru Gojo x reader; Kento Nanami x reader; Suguru Geto x f!reader

inspo ⸺ Inspired by some art by @clemenlush (linked here) that inspired me to write the JJK men as cool uncles, lol. Let me know if any of y'all want me to do another character!!

warnings ⸺ alcohol use, suggestive jokes, baby fever!, mention of baby-making!, reader uses female pronouns, reader presumed to have a vag!na, softboys & fluff

Requests are open! Please read the Request Guidelines before submitting a request <33

✧.* — TOJI FUSHIGURO — ✧.*

You glanced at Toji as he steered the car down the quiet, tree-lined street. The low hum of the engine was the only sound between you two, but that familiar weight of his presence filled the silence. He always carried himself with an easy confidence, a kind of quiet power that made him stand out without even trying.

“You don’t have to look so annoyed,” you teased, catching the subtle furrow in his brow as he pulled into Jinichi’s driveway.

Toji didn’t say anything at first, just smirked and glanced sideways at you. “I’m not annoyed,” he grumbled, though the slight tilt of his mouth said otherwise. “Just not exactly in the mood for the family dinner crap.”

You rolled your eyes.

Classic Toji.

“Be nice. It’s just dinner. You’re not walking into a fight,” you reminded him with a soft laugh, unbuckling your seatbelt. “And you know exactly how much your nephew adores you.”

That earned you a low chuckle as he cut the engine and slouched back in his seat.

“Kid's got good taste. I’m the only fun one ‘round here.”

You both stepped out of the car and as you made your way up the driveway, the front door swung open. 

Your brother-in-law, Jinichi, stood there, smiling at you both, but barely had the chance to greet you before the sound of hurried footsteps followed behind him.

“Toji-ojisan!”

A small, dark-haired blur darted past Jinichi and straight toward Toji. Before you could blink, Toji’s nephew had attached himself to his leg, looking up with wide eyes.

“Uncle Toji! You came! Are you gonna tell me more stories about when you were younger?”

Toji raised an eyebrow, smirking down at the kid, then cast a sidelong glance at you.

“See? Told you. I’m the fun one.”

You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile as Toji crouched down to ruffle his nephew’s hair.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too full of yourself.”

“Already am,” he replied, deadpan, before turning his full attention to the kid.

“What’s up, brat? You been behaving?”

The little boy nodded enthusiastically, practically bouncing on his toes.

“Yep! I’ve been practicing just like you told me. Can we go to the backyard later? You gotta see my new moves!”

Toji stood back up, arms crossed as he exchanged a quick glance with Jinichi, who gave a knowing grin.

There was an unspoken fondness between them, though Jinichi didn’t say anything, just stepping aside to let you in.

Inside, the house was warm and inviting, the scent of homemade food already filling the air. You noticed Toji’s posture relax—just a bit—as you made your way to the living room.

His nephew stuck to his side like glue, constantly asking about everything from Toji’s workout routine to his old school stories.

Toji answered in his usual blunt way, never indulging the kid too much, but just enough to keep him hooked.

After dinner, you found yourself sitting outside on the back patio, watching Toji and his nephew go over some silly mock sparring moves.

The boy had his fists up, trying to mimic Toji’s stance, all while Toji lazily dodged the punches, not bothering to hide the amusement in his eyes.

You leaned back in your chair, and for a moment, it was like your heart swelled in your chest—three sizes too big, you thought with a smile.

It was impossible not to feel that warmth as you watched Toji with his nephew, his tough exterior softened just a bit in these moments.

He’d never admit it, but seeing him like this, in his own way, playing the doting uncle…it made you melt.

You could see it in the way his nephew looked at him, hanging onto his every word. And the way Toji engaged—aloof but present—it warmed something deep inside you.

“You’re such a softie, you know that?” you called out, your voice teasing but laced with affection.

Toji turned, still holding up a lazy guard, eyes narrowing playfully. “Yeah? How d’you figure?”

You gave him a knowing grin, folding your arms. “Look at you—out here entertaining him like you don’t enjoy it. Don’t act like you don’t love being the ‘cool uncle.’”

He straightened up, brushing his hands through his hair as he cast a quick glance at his nephew—who was too busy practicing his “new moves” on a nearby tree—to respond.

Then, with a smirk that made your heart skip a beat, he stepped toward you. “Maybe I am a softie,” he started, voice low, “but only for you.”

You blinked, a playful roll of your eyes as you went to respond—

“Though, I’ll tell ya, there’s somethin’ I’m neverr soft for...”

It took you all of two seconds to realize where he was going, but before he could finish the joke, you flicked him right in the forehead.

“Toji!” You scolded, laughing despite yourself.

He grinned, all too pleased with himself, as he rubbed his forehead.

“What? You’re the one who brought it up, sweetheart.”

“You’re awful,” you said, shaking your head, though the warmth in your chest remained. You could never stay mad at him, especially not when he was like this—so smug, so sure of himself.

“And to think I almost thought you were sweet for a second.”

He leaned down, one hand coming to rest on the arm of your chair as he hovered over you, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

“Almost, huh?”

You flicked his forehead again, but softer this time. “Don’t push your luck.”

He chuckled, leaning back and crossing his arms as he glanced toward his nephew, still occupied in his makeshift sparring match with the tree.

“Brat’s got a lot to learn,” he muttered, but you could hear the fondness there, the warmth beneath his tough exterior.

“Kid might be cooler than me one day.”

You smiled, shaking your head as you watched the two of them together.

“Not possible,” you said softly, though Toji didn’t hear it—or pretended not to.

Either way, in that moment, your heart was full. This was your life, and honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

✧.* — GOJO SATORU — ✧.*

Gojo’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel as he hummed along to the radio, sunglasses perched—needlessly—on his nose despite the fact it was well after sunset.

You shot him a side-eye.

“You do realize we’re just going to Shoko’s for dinner, right? You’re acting like you’re about to perform on stage.”

He grinned, his lips pulling into that signature cocky smile.

“Aren’t I always the main attraction, though? Especially tonight. Her kid adores me.”

You snorted. “Yeah, because you let him climb all over you like a jungle gym.”

“Hey, I’m just providing the fun. I can’t help that I’m a natural favourite,” he quipped, glancing at you for emphasis before focusing back on the road.

“You say that like it’s a talent,” you teased, though the warmth in your chest grew as you thought about it.

It was hard not to love Gojo when he was like this—carefree, playful, and so naturally magnetic, especially around kids.

By the time you pulled up to Shoko’s house, you could already hear the muffled sound of laughter and conversation.

The front door creaked open before either of you could knock, and Shoko’s five-year-old son burst out, arms outstretched, ready to greet his hero.

“Gojo-nii!” The kid’s excitement was so pure, it was contagious.

Gojo’s grin only widened, and he crouched down to scoop him up in one smooth motion.

“Hey, champ! Been keeping things under control at this house? Your mom can be a handful…”

The boy giggled as Gojo swung him around effortlessly, his small hands gripping the fabric of Gojo’s coat. 

You stood back for a moment, hand still resting on the open passenger door, with a growing smile on your face.

Gojo’s childlike energy matched the kid’s perfectly, and it never failed to make your heart melt.

“He’s been waiting for you all day,” Shoko called from the hallway, rolling her eyes as she stepped into view.

“Good luck tearing him away from you tonight.”

Gojo set the kid down with a dramatic flair, straightening up and shooting a playful wink at you.

“What can I say? I’ve got that irresistible charm.”

“Careful, your ego’s showing again,” you quipped, nudging him as you all walked into the house.

As Gojo and the boy ran off to “catch up”—which likely meant some sort of wild chase through the living room—you found yourself watching from the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and heart swelling.

It always surprised you how soft Gojo could be, especially around kids. 

His usual swagger and bravado were still there, but he had a way of connecting with them that was genuinely sweet. It made your heart skip in ways you had never expected.

You smiled to yourself, shaking your head slightly as you watched Gojo give the kid a piggyback ride, the room filled with their laughter. 

Shoko came up beside you, handing you a glass of wine. 

“Never thought I’d see the day where Satoru Gojo is someone’s favorite jungle gym,” she commented dryly, taking a sip from her own glass.

You laughed softly, nodding. “Yeah, it’s weird, right? But he loves it.”

Shoko gave you a knowing look. “Does he? Or does he just love being adored?”

You grinned, letting out a short laugh before responding.

“Both. Definitely both.”

Later, after dinner, Gojo had somehow convinced the boy to show him every toy he owned, and you found yourself watching them again, heart swelling even more.

You didn’t know how, but every time Gojo was around that kid, you swore your heart was overwhelmed with admiration.

“You’re good with him, you know,” you said softly as you sidled up next to Gojo, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, helping the boy assemble a toy robot. “It’s almost like you… enjoy this.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, feigning offence. “Enjoy? What are you trying to say, love? You think I’m not the paternal type?”

You smirked, leaning down to whisper, “I think you love it, actually...”

Gojo leaned back slightly, crossing his arms and giving you a playful look. “Oh, I love a lot of things,” he said smoothly, lowering his voice.

“And most of them are when we’re not around a five-year-old.”

You blinked, realizing the meaning behind his words, and lightly smacked him at the back of his head. “Satoru!”

“Ow!” He pouted, rubbing the back of his head. “What? I’m just being honest.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a grin. “You’re the worst.”

“Actually…I’m the best,” he corrected with a wink, as the kid ran back to Gojo’s side, completely oblivious to the innuendo.

Watching Gojo with that playful smile and the way he effortlessly entertained the kid—who was still tugging at his sleeve to show him yet another toy—made you feel an overwhelming sense of warmth.

Sure, Gojo could be an insufferable flirt, but seeing him like this, so naturally connected and full of energy, reminded you why you loved him so much.

Even when he was being a ridiculous show-off, he had a way of making your heart burst with affection.

“Okay, okay,” you said, shaking your head fondly.

“Let’s see if you can at least try to behave yourself the rest of the night.”

Gojo stood up, stretching dramatically, and then leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“No promises. You know me—I always aim to please.”

You smacked him again, this time softer, as he flashed that signature grin of his and turned his attention back to Shoko’s son, who was already planning his next adventure with his “cool uncle.”

✧.* — NANAMI KENTO — ✧.*

The evening sky was beginning to blush with hues of orange and pink as you and Nanami made your way to your sister's house. 

The quiet hum of the car and the familiar scent of Nanami’s cologne made the drive feel calm, though you couldn’t help the tiny flutter of excitement in your stomach.

Family dinners were always nice, but this time there was a little extra something—your niece loved Nanami.

“I think she loves you more than she loves me,” you said playfully, turning to glance at your husband as he kept his eyes focused on the road.

Nanami’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles.

“Hardly. She just appreciates that I bring her books.”

“Books, toys, puzzles, snacks—don’t act like you haven’t been spoiling her.” You teased, gently nudging his arm.

He gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug, but you could see the way his eyes softened.

“I just want to make sure she’s happy.”

You grinned.

It was the kind of answer you'd expect from Nanami—thoughtful, selfless, and with an unspoken affection that melted your heart every time.

It was hard to imagine anyone not loving him, really. 

As you pulled up in front of your sister’s house, you didn’t even have a chance to step out of the car before the front door swung open.

Your niece, a whirlwind of energy with messy pigtails and a huge smile, came racing down the path.

“Uncle Kento!” she squealed, her little feet pounding against the pavement as she made a beeline for Nanami.

He stepped out of the car just in time for her to throw her arms around his legs, hugging him tightly. Nanami looked slightly startled but quickly softened, crouching down to her level. “Hello, sweetheart.”

Her face lit up at his greeting, and she quickly started tugging him towards the house.

“Come on! I have to show you my new dollhouse! You’re going to love it!”

You watched them from a few steps behind, heart warming at the sight. Nanami—who always seemed so composed and serious—was completely wrapped around your niece’s tiny finger. It was an endearing contrast, watching the usually stoic man willingly get pulled into a child’s world of excitement and play.

By the time you reached the front door, your niece had already dragged Nanami inside, babbling non-stop about the dollhouse, the latest puzzle he bought her, and a new storybook she wanted him to read later. 

You exchanged a smile with your sister, who had appeared in the doorway, laughing as she watched her daughter commandeer Nanami's attention.

“He’s got the magic touch with kids, huh?” Your sister remarked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You chuckled, stepping inside. “She loves him. I think she’s ready to keep him all to herself.”

“Good luck getting him back,” she teased, giving you a playful nudge as you both headed into the living room.

Dinner was filled with easy conversation, laughter, and your niece proudly showing Nanami everything she could think of—her new school projects, her favorite toys, and even a drawing she had made “just for him.” 

He listened attentively, offering genuine praise, his voice calm but warm in a way that made it clear he wasn’t just humoring her. He cared.

You found yourself watching the two of them, your heart swelling with each small interaction. 

It was impossible not to smile, seeing Nanami, the man who rarely let himself relax, so at ease around your niece. 

Nanami had just finished reading her a bedtime story, and now she was fast asleep, curled up under the blankets with her favorite stuffed toy.

“She’s asleep,” he murmured softly, his hand brushing your niece’s hair away from her face.

You stepped forward, quietly gathering the blankets to tuck her in. “You’re really good with her, you know?”

He glanced at you, a faint smile on his lips. “I try.”

“No, really,” you said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “She loves you. You’re her favorite.”

Nanami’s eyes softened at your words, but he didn’t say much more, his hand lingering on your niece’s small form for a moment longer before standing up.

The two of you quietly exited the room, letting her sleep in peace.

After saying your goodbyes to your sister and thanking her for dinner, you both made your way out to the car. 

The night air was cool, and the streets were quiet as Nanami opened the passenger door for you, his hand resting briefly at the small of your back as you slid into the seat.

The drive home was calm, with the rhythmic sound of the tires against the road creating a peaceful background hum. You glanced out the window, watching the city lights blur into soft orbs as they passed by.

Nanami was silent beside you, his hands steady on the wheel. There was something thoughtful in the way he held himself, a quiet contemplation that you could sense even without looking at him.

After a few minutes, he finally spoke.

“You know, I’ve been thinking…” You tilted your head, curiosity piqued by the sudden weight in his voice.

Nanami hesitated for a moment, his thumb tapping lightly on the steering wheel before reaching over to rest on your thigh.

“Of what I want,” he said, his voice a little quieter. “Of what we could have.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the implication behind his words, and you turned to face him fully, sensing where this was going.

“Kento…” You began softly.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” he continued, his gaze fixed ahead on the road.

“For a while now, actually.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your pulse quicken as the meaning behind his words settled in. He wasn’t just talking about your niece anymore.

“You’re talking about…” you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper.

“A family,” he finished for you, his tone gentle but certain. “I want us to have a baby.”

For a moment, you just sat there.

You had always known that Nanami cared deeply, that he was serious about your future together, but hearing him say it like this, so plainly, so sincerely—it was something else entirely.

“You want a baby?” You repeated softly, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions.

He nodded, his eyes still focused on the road but softening as he spoke.

“Yes. I want to start a family with you. I’ve been thinking about it for some time, but… I didn’t want to pressure you.”

You reached over, gently placing your hand on top of his where it rested on your leg.

“You’re not pressuring me, Kento. I…” You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts.

“I want that too. With you. More than anything.”

When you finally pulled up to your home, Nanami turned off the engine and sat there for a moment, the faint glow of the streetlights illuminating his thoughtful expression. 

He turned to you, reaching out to cup your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made your heart skip.

“I mean it,” he murmured. “Whenever you’re ready. We’ll do this together.”

You leaned into his touch, your eyes meeting his with a warmth and certainty you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Well…I am ready now...” You said with a playful tone.

He smiled then—small, soft, and full of love—and leaned in to press a tender kiss to your lips, sealing the quiet promise you had both made tonight.

“Well then lets get inside.”

✧.* — SUGURU GETO — ✧.*

It was a peaceful evening, and the low hum of conversation filled the room, accompanied by the occasional clatter of building blocks. You sat cross-legged on the couch, watching as Suguru helped Utahime's son with his tower-building endeavor.

The little boy was fully engaged, eyes bright with excitement as Suguru gently guided his small hands to balance each block perfectly.

“Higher, Sugu! Make it taller!” the boy giggled, his enthusiasm filling the room with an infectious joy.

Suguru chuckled softly, his deep voice filled with warmth.

“Careful, we don’t want it to fall,” he murmured, adding another block to the structure with a steady hand.

His long fingers made the task look effortless, and the boy watched in awe.

You leaned back against the couch cushions, the sight of Suguru interacting with the child making your heart swell.

There was something about seeing him like this—patient, soft-spoken, so full of care. It was a side of him that you loved deeply, and it reminded you just how much of a natural he was with kids.

“You’re really good with him,” you commented, your voice a little more tender than usual as you admired the scene before you.

Suguru glanced over at you, the corners of his mouth lifting in a faint smile.

“He’s easy to please,” he said, turning his attention back to the boy, who was now clapping his hands excitedly as the tower grew taller.

“Still,” you said, watching the way the boy leaned into Suguru, clearly adoring him, “he’s obsessed with you. I’ve never seen him so attached.”

Suguru smirked, a playful glint in his eyes.

“What can I say? I’m just irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes at that, but your heart warmed anyway.

“Sure, sure. Let’s just hope you don’t break his heart when we leave.”

The boy turned to you, his face lighting up with joy. “Sugu is so cool, y/n! He’s gonna help me with my blocks forever!”

You chuckled, brushing a hand through your hair as you watched Suguru pretend to be serious.

“Forever, huh? That’s a long time, buddy.”

Suguru leaned down, lowering his voice conspiratorially as if sharing a secret with the boy.

“I don’t mind,” he whispered, his tone teasing. “As long as I get to build the biggest towers.”

The boy giggled, his eyes sparkling as he nodded enthusiastically. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight—it was moments like this that made your heart grow three sizes.

You leaned forward, nudging Suguru’s shoulder lightly.

“Admit it, you’re loving this.”

Suguru’s dark eyes flickered with amusement as he glanced at you, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Of course! What’s not to love?”

Before you could respond, the familiar sound of keys jingling outside the door caught your attention.

You glanced at the clock—it was just about time for Utahime to be home.

The front door creaked open, and Utahime stepped inside, looking a little worn out but smiling when she saw the scene in front of her.

“Looks like I missed all the fun,” she said, her voice carrying a mix of relief and gratitude as she took in the sight of her son sitting on the floor, still glued to Suguru’s side.

“Mama!” The boy immediately jumped up, running toward her with open arms. Utahime knelt down, scooping him up with a tired but happy sigh.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she murmured, kissing the top of his head. “Were you good for Suguru and y/n?”

“He was an angel,” you replied with a smile, standing up from the couch. “Though, I think Suguru’s the real hero tonight.”

Utahime chuckled, glancing at Suguru with an appreciative smile.

“I don’t doubt it. Thanks for watching him—both of you. I owe you one.”

Suguru waved her off, standing up and stretching his arms.

“No need. He’s a fun kid. We built the tallest tower yet.”

The boy wiggled in Utahime’s arms, looking up at her excitedly.

“Mama, it was so tall! Sugu’s the best!”

Utahime smiled down at him, her eyes softening. “I’m glad you had fun, sweetie. Let’s get you ready for bed, okay?”

As Utahime carried her son off to his room, you turned to Suguru, your hand finding his arm as you gave him a gentle squeeze.

“You were great with him tonight,” you said softly, your eyes full of affection.

Suguru gave you a warm smile, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.

“I had fun,” he murmured. “But we should probably head out.”

You nodded, glancing around the apartment to make sure everything was in order. After a few minutes, Utahime returned, looking more relaxed now that her son was settled.

“Thanks again, guys,” she said, walking you both to the door. “I’ll definitely owe you one for this.”

“Anytime,” you replied with a smile, giving her a quick hug before stepping out into the cool evening air.

As you and Suguru made your way to his bike, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment settle over you. There was something peaceful about nights like this—watching Suguru be so gentle and kind, seeing how naturally he fit into the role of caretaker.

It stirred something warm and familiar deep within you.

Once you both stepped outside into the cool evening air, Suguru glanced at you with a smirk.

“You know,” he started, his tone laced with that unmistakable teasing charm, “playing with Utahime’s kid is fun and all, but…” He paused, raising an eyebrow as he reached for your hand. “I was thinking we should get home and get to some 'baby-making' ourselves… if you know what I mean.”

Heat instantly bloomed in your cheeks as you laughed, nudging him in the ribs. “Suguru!”

But before you could respond properly, Suguru swept you off your feet with ease, lifting you into his arms.

“What? It’s a solid plan, plus you're the one who kept saying I'm just sooo good with kids.” He grinned, peppering your face with soft kisses as he carried you toward his motorcycle.

“Put me down!” You laughed, but your protests were playful as Suguru’s kisses continued, light and affectionate, his breath warm against your skin.

“You love it,” he murmured between kisses, making you giggle even more.

With one final press of his lips to your forehead, Suguru set you down beside his motorcycle, the playful glint in his eyes still there.

“Now, let’s get home,” he said, sliding onto the bike and passing you your helmet. “We’ve got some important work to do.”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you climbed onto the bike behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

As the engine roared to life, you pressed your cheek against his back, feeling that same peaceful contentment wash over you once more.

And as you sped off into the night, the playful warmth of Suguru's teasing stayed with you, a reminder of just how lucky you were to have him by your side.

Author's Note II: Let me know your thoughts on these and lmk if you want me to do any other characters :)

LOVE Y'ALL

[oreoluvskento]

hate sex w nanami

a/n: uhhhh heres that hate sex fic i promised two months ago :D my bad yall i got really busy and lost all motivation to keep writing on here, but i'm back now :)

cw: female reader, wrote this with black reader in mind but no mention of specific race, NOT PROOFREAD, no use of y/n, cunnilingus, overstimulation, cum swallowing, brat tamer nanami, brat reader, im very horny, that should be me honestly

"fuck, what are we doing?" you ask as you and nanami kiss feverishly. he climbs up onto his desk with you, laying you down onto your back roughly.

"don't know," he growls, his hand coming up to cup your jaw as he kisses his way down to your neck. your eyes widen as he bites you, and you feel your knees go weak when he pushes his thigh against your throbbing core while sucking your neck at the same time.

"i thought you couldn't stand me," you moan, rutting yourself against him, to which he groans at. he reaches down and tugs your pants off, your legs kicking them away.

"i can't," he answers, now tossing your underwear to the side and kissing his way down your thighs.

about two minutes earlier, you and nanami were just yelling at each other about your recent mission. you had a plan and nanami completely disregarded it for it's lack of, well, planning. you were more erratic and spontaneous, wanting to go with the flow, while nanami was more calculated and careful, always wanting to stay organized.

you barged in immediately after your checkup with shoko, still fuming because he ignored you when you tried to ask him on your way back about why the plans changed. you complained to shoko about it, to which she said "instead of yelling at me, why not go yell at him," to which you took literally.

nanami didn't acknowledge you once ever since you came in, which infuriated you even further. although his face was stoic, a slightly noticeable vein was popping out of his forehead and his fingers were gripping his pen tighter.

you spun him around in his seat, still complaining in his face, your noses almost touching, which ended up being his last straw. "you are incredibly childish, irresponsible, and i simply have no respect for you at all! you endanger our lives every time we go on a mission together, but all you can think about is how much fun you're having! you're selfish, and honestly a little bit dense, and i wish you'd shut up and leave, you're disturbing my peace."

your eyes widen as he speaks, his voice barely raising but his anger clearly showing. "you can kiss my ass." you grit and the look of disgust that appears on his face makes you even angrier. before you can say anything, he beats you to it.

"please leave," he says, standing up and now looking down at you.

feeling stubborn, you stand your ground and cross your arms. "no," you childishly protest and he leans his head back with a sigh.

"leave or-"

"or what?" you interrupt, moving closer to him and something in the atmosphere changes. for you it could've been the way he looked at you with such an intimidating expression, one that made you submit almost too quickly. for him it could've been the way you were pressed up against him, your chest against his and your pelvises almost touching.

before you could process what was going on, you were sitting on his desk, his lips attacking yours furiously and you were kissing him back.

his mouth is now on your pussy, eating you out like you were his favorite meal, his anger fueling his actions. "fuck don't stop, it feels so good," you moan and nanami grunts against your clit.

"stop fucking talking," he growls, his tongue darting back out to play with your clit and you slide your hands into his hair.

"fuck...you," you respond, breathless as he continues to mercilessly eat you out. nanami sucks your clit into his mouth over and over again, essentially treating it as a pacifier, and just when you think you're about to cum, he stops and inserts two fingers inside you.

"who knew something so sweet could come out of someone so bitter," he teases, watching as your pussy swallows his digits. you're unable to speak properly, your mouth open mid gasp and your back arching off the table. nanami speeds up, the sound making him even harder, and you finally gain your ability to speak again.

"shut up and eat- oh fuck- me out," you moan, pushing his head back onto your pussy and he complies, slurping away what has been produced by his ministrations. you choke on another moan and rut your hips against his face, to which he responds by holding your hips in place with his free hand. now completely controlling your pleasure, nanami fingers you faster, the tips of his fingers constantly brushing against your g-spot and before you knew it, you were having an orgasm.

you struggle to stay quiet as your body lights up but you find it difficult as nanami refuses to let up, his fingers fighting against your constricting walls and his tongue still hard at work on your clit. as you come down, you truly start to feel the overstimulation and try to pull away. "mm mm, stay right here. you should've left when i told you to. now it's my turn," he says, muffled by your pussy and you cry out when he starts sucking your sensitive clit again.

"please, its too much, i can't," you plead but it falls onto deaf ears as he goes on. nanami adds another finger and your eyes roll to the back of your head, the stretch adding a new sensation to focus on.

"if only you were as obedient as your pussy. look at how she sucks me right in," he coos and you subconsciously get tighter at his teasing. he chooses not to say anything about it yet, and focuses on stretching you out for his dick. your breathing picks up and nanami recognizes the cues for your next orgasm so he dives back onto your clit, spitting on it and slurping it loosely.

you cum unexpectedly this time and nanami keeps fucking you through it, your body thrashing against his hold. he finally pulls away from you, sitting up to look at your blissed out face. you open your eyes when he grabs onto your jaw with one hand and prods at your mouth with the other.

"open," he commands and you do as he says, the fuzz in your brain stopping you from thinking clearly. he puts his fingers into your mouth and you moan as you suck away the mess on them. he pulls you off the desk and leans you against it, your upper body folded over it now.

he pushes his clothed erection against you from behind and groans when you push back against him. nanami thinks about teasing you some more but he has a meeting with yaga about your partnership soon and he's racing against time. he quickly pulls his dick out, the tip turning slightly red as it's been begging for attention sine he kissed you.

your head is down when he pushes into you and you snap it up when you feel the way it stretches you out. a high pitched moan escapes you and nanami slaps his hand over your mouth while pulling you up to talk to you. "shut up, i'm not even all the way in yet," he rasps and you et out a sound of desperation.

once he bullies the rest of his cock inside of you, he pulls out and snaps his hips back into yours, and if it wasn't for his hand on your mouth, the entire academy would've heard the moan that came out of you. nanami sets a relentless pace, his anger towards you growing the louder you get.

"you really don't know how to be quiet, huh?" he growls, pushing all the way into you, shimmying his hips to get deeper, and you fall over, stopping yourself from moaning this time. tears come to your eyes and he fucks you deeply, the pleasure too much for you to handle and your knees going weak. nanami realizes you effort and scoffs to himself. "so you do know how to follow directions? i knew it wouldn't take much to put a brat like you in her place," he says and nod furiously, not even sure of what he's saying.

he speeds up now, his eyes fixated on the way your ass jiggles every time he thrusted into it. your pussy begins squeezing him like it did earlier but nanami isn't having it. he pulls you up by your hair and grabs you by your throat. "you'll wait, do you understand me? hold it until i say you can cum," he instructs and you let out a whine in protest. ultimately, you listen, and although it was extremely hard to focus on not cumming, you succeed.

nanami takes the hand on your throat and begins rubbing your clit with it. "make sure you stay quiet just like this. go ahead and cum for me," he says and not even a second later your gushing all over his dick. he moans out curses as you cum, your pussy holding onto his dick and when you're done, he pulls out. he yanks your shoulder and pushes you onto the ground, and you catch on, taking his dick in your hand and stroking it.

this is your first time seeing it and god was it big. you take the tip in your mouth and bob your way down his shaft, wanting to feel it in your throat. nanami moans as you suck him off and before long, he cums in your mouth. you swallow it as it comes and when he's done, he pulls you back to your feet. he carries you onto the desk and rubs the side of your hips as he comes down from his own high, his head on your shoulder.

"i'm sorry for barging in here and acting an ass," you say softly and he chuckles, his head still down.

"i'm sorry for calling you childish, irrisponsible, selfsih-"

"alright, i get it you're sorry!" you interrupt and he laughs a little harder. he stands up, tucks his dick away, and helps you put your pants back on before giving you a bottle of water and watching you leave.

later that day, during his meeting with yaga, at which he wanted to request a partner switch, he decided on sticking with you for just a little longer.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

after listening to an among us song i was given the drive to reboot this au so ,

originated from a doodle that spiraled , SPREAD THE INFLUENCE is an au where ragatha is the ( unwilling ) host of a parasite called ' the influence ' which is a virus that only wants to spread and survive . she wasn't compliant about it at the beginning which was ' fixed ' with an itty bitty bit of psychological torment !

also yes i know the abbreviation is unfortunate and i do not care it's funny

even though ragatha's still our usual sweet little optimist , there is this persistent feeling of wrongness . too positive . too affectionate . it's like all of her humanity has been scooped out and you're left with the mask she made for others in the circus .

which is how the virus spread in the circus - they preyed on vulnerabilities which was what their host is perfect for . striking when the victim puts their guards down , making them submit under the guise that their problems will be fixed ... unfortunately it's a monkey's paw situation .

of course , that's only for this particular instance of the influencer ! something to note is that the virus takes a lot from the host's personality , so t.i's mellow and passive , only resorting to violence whenever necessary . t.i's not really an opposite ragatha she's more like a Dark , Fucked Up Version of ragatha the amazing digital circus . she cares a lot for everyone she considers a part of her hive , but it took a lot of manipulation and gaslighting for them to get infected .

caine is left uninfected because " i would do that if my goal is to destroy this place ! " t.i's ultimate fear has always been dying . it'll do everything to not die , to the point it's trying to spread out of the circus ( <- honestly take this info with a grain of salt i wrote this before i fully developed the story ) . unfortunately there's this jester who's resisting the virus with pure lesbian rage and is trying to stop her .

now rags would eventually get de-influenced and the circus will no longer be infected , but we will talk about the extremely rocky journey of recovering from knowing you harmed everyone you cared about Later

was this ' the influence ' that amanda ( ragatha's va ) keeps referencing ? sighs ... yeah . ( feels so surreal that i can say i have their seal of approval for this )

why ragatha ? in story , how is she not the perfect host ? metatextually , this is an au of an au - this came from a blog about ragatha getting a virus that is inconveniencing her life . i simply thought of an idea of ' hey what if the virus took over her body ' one day . then this abomination was born . i would reveal the why and how she got infected ... eventually .........

is she still afraid of centipedes ? is it a ragatha if she doesn't have a fear of centipedes

does pomni still use a taser ? yeah

could i use / be inspired by the influence for my au ? i did not invent the concept of Computer Viruses so feel free to be inspired by it , no credit needed . for t.i as a character specifically , please credit me !

are there ships ? just pomni x ragatha

is suggestive content of t.i ok ? just don't send them to me , tag it as #tw suggestive or #suggestive so i could filter it out

is nsfw content of t.i ok ? my tiny artist hands are powerless against the unstoppable force that is the internet so my answer will not matter . that being said , i recommend that they're not put in the main au tag so people won't unexpectedly come across it . and no i do not want to see it please do not send them to me

could i draw fanart / write fanfic of this au ? 100% yes you could either mention me or tag it under #tadc influence au

does this au have an ask blog ? nah just a normal blog lol

READ THE COMIC ... I GUESS ... !!

the main story

oh boy a prologue

[mercyk1ll3r]

whiny!stephen glass x fem reader

warnings; sexual content, needy stephen, no clear sub/dom dynamics, nipple play, creampie, size!kink if u squint, hickeys, slightly subby stephen, teasing, overstimulation,

”hey y/n? if i invited you over and all we did was okay monopoly would you come?” he spoke in your doorway right after getting up to leave your office, he was just asking you to check up on his work before he submitted it. “oh, um i would really like that stephen.” you flashed him a shy smile before quickly looking back at your papers scattered across your desk, trying not to make eye contact for too long, you were scared he would notice how hard you were trying to keep your voice steady. stephen was always such a sweet guy. he made you very a little nervous, the way you could ever so slightly feel his warm breath against your neck when he peered over at your computer, or the way he was constantly complimenting you and praising you for your ‘captivating’ writing, or the way he stared a little too hard at you during meetings.

“well.. are you free tonight?” he spoke staring at his notepad, unintentionally mirroring you. you wondered for a short second if you made him nervous too.. “oh yeah, i am actually.” “great wanna come over maybe around 6? oh that’s around dinner time isn’t it.. i could make dinner for us as well?” he spoke in an shy tone, like he had thought out every word down to the syllable. “oh yeah that would be great steve!” “i was thinking i’d maybe make creamy pesto pasta, or um if you don’t like pasta i could make something else! anything you want..” oh god he’d really fucked up this time he knows it! you probably hate pasta that was such a stu-“no no, i would love pasta.” your sweet tone melted away his worried instantly, leaving a warm feeling behind in his chest.

i could hardly wait for work to end today, although i felt i could probably keel over and die from how nervous i was. i felt like a teenager again waiting for my first date with a cute boy i had a crush on. i spent all the couple hours i had before going to stephens taking my time getting ready, showering, reapplying my makeup, straightening my hair, picking out an outfit. usually i pass out as soon as i get home from work, getting some much needed rest but i was wide awake with anticipation today.

i walked up the steps to stephens door, taking a deep breath to attempt to calm myself down, it worked, kind of.. i wrang the doorbell and stephen answered very quickly, i smiled at the thought of him waiting like a puppy by the window waiting for my car to pull in.

“hey y/n! come on in!” he said stepping out of the way for you to come inside, the smell hit you as soon as he opened the door, an amazing smell, enough to make you starved instantly. “stephen that smells amazing.” “oh yeah the foods nearly ready, i really hope you like it it’s my moms recipe.” he spoke leading you into the kitchen.

your nervousness had melted away after dinner with stephen. he was just so perfect, he was so intently listening to every word you said, it felt like you had an endless amount of things to talk about when you were with stephen, endless laughs. you just loved seeing his wide smile and the way his eyes scrunched up while he looked you at you, just a simple smile was enough to make you squirm. he was just so gorgeous.

he led you into his well furnished living room. family photos, candles, his endless amount of books, his home had such a safe aura that really reminded you of your childhood home. he pulled out monopoly from under his coffee table, you shuddered a bit as his hand brush led against your thigh as he sat up. you really felt embarrassed at the warm feeling something so small and unnoticed gave you. “i wanna be the little shoe!” you yelled as soon as you saw it, picking it up immediately. “geez, okay.” he laughed at your reaction. god you were so beautiful he couldn’t help thinking as he stared a little too long at your face, your shiny hair that just smelled so good, your gorgeous eyes and lips, and he could see the tinniest but of clevage in your shirt but trust me it was enough to make him feel something.

you noticed his staring after a second and it instantly embarrassed you, had you done something stupid? did you have food on ur face??

he leaned in before you could even process it, lifting your chin up with his thumb and index finger before planting a soft kiss against your lips. you thought your head might actually explode, barely processing what had happened before he pulled away. “i’m really sorry i just did that without thinking oh god you can leave if you want i didn’t-“ before he could finish you pulled him back in for another kiss, instantly silencing him, warmth spread through your whole body making you feel a light headed. he snaked his hand around to the back of your neck, lightly slipped his tongue into your mouth begging to taste you as he pulled you flush against his chest, he could feel your tits pressed up against him and he groaned ever so slightly into your mouth at the feeling of his dick throbbing in his pants begging to feel you around him.

your kisses became more intense and passionate gripping his soft hair in your manicured fingers. he started to lean back onto you trapping you between his body and the couch, gently reaching his hand up to rest on your waist. heat pulsed from your core all the way through your body as you felt his bulge press against your stomach, you broke the kiss for only a moment when you started to lift up your shirt discarding it on the ground, leaving you in only your skirt and bra. he reconnected the kiss before starting to run his hand over your stomach and up up up until he reached your boob, gently pulling the fabric down just enough for your breast to pop out.

he broke the kiss again as he started peppering kisses down your neck before he finally reached you exposed breast, gently sucking and kissing at your nipple before tugging the other side of your bra down. “fuck stephen.” you whimper gasping as he nips at your other nipple. “oh i’m sorry i’m sorry did i hurt you?!” he spoke instantly pulling his mouth away from your chest with a guilty look in his face. “no baby.. it felt good” you smiled at his reaction, he sighed in relief before attaching himself back onto your chest, instead focusing on peppering your tits and collarbone with hickeys. he loved seeing you all marked up.. something about it made his dick throb, just knowing he was the one to leave them on your perfect skin.

“could i please touch you? please?” he nearly begged (as if you would ever refuse him) as he started to run his hand down your stomach nearing the waistband of your skirt, toying with the little bow right below your belly button. “of course stephen..” you smiled at the dazed look in his eyes. he kissed you again as he gently slipped his hand into your skirt.. then into your panties. you whimper into his mouth as he brushes a finger against your clit, barely touching it. heat pulsed through your whole body as your felt your tummy flutter, dizzy and fucked out as you started to beg into his mouth for more clawing at his clothed back with one hand and gripping his hair with the other. stephen thought he could actually be dreaming at this point, you were just so so perfect, absolutely made for him in every way. he could cum in his pants just by hearing your small whimpers and the way you beg for him to touch you and the way you writhe underneath his broad body.

“please stephen stop teasing me.. just touch me” he replayed your words in his head as he gave in, slipping a finger down to feel just how wet you are. fucking soaked. slipping his finger into his mouth as he stood up and ripped your panties off, discarding them on the floor just as he had done for the rest of your clothes. he was tired of waiting, he needed to taste you right. now.

as he sat between your legs before he spoke, “can i taste you princess? please” “yeah.. i need it stephen” you said mindlessly, you weren’t lying either, you thought you might cry if he didn’t touch you already. he gently began kissing and sucking marks all over your thighs before wrapping his arms around you thighs to keep you still. he licked a stripe up your pussy, before planting a kiss right on your clit. “fuck stephen!” you moaned out as he started to lick and suck your sensitive clit, rubbing his finger against your tight entrance. he started to rub against the couch trying to seek any relief, he was so hard it hurt. he moaned into your pussy as he continued his assault on your clit gently pushing a finger into your hole. “stephen please stop teasing me i need you.. please.” you begged as you dug your nails into his scalp, pushing his head deeper into your cunt. he didn’t mean to tease you he just loved hearing you beg.. he knows you needed it so he gave it to you, even if he would like to hear you beg all night.

he pushed his finger all the way into your cunt, continuing to suck and kiss your clit. god they were just so much bigger then your own fingers, curling his finger upwards to his that spot that makes you cry out, and oh it did. you couldn’t keep yourself quiet as he added another finger, as soon as he did that you knew you wouldn’t last long, the hand in his hair had become a death grip, unable to hold back your loud moans you felt that familiar feeling come back to you quickly. “stephen.. i’m gonna come” you said in a pained voice as tears welled in your eyes. “oh fuck oh fuck!” your body began to writhe as he continued to pump his fingers in and out quickly, making sure you ride out your orgasm. or at least you thought.. but even as you stilled and the overwhelming pleasure went away it was quickly replaced with pain as he continued even as you had finished your orgasm, “stephen stop it hurts.” you whimpered out, but no. he wouldn’t. he needed you to cum again. “please just one more.. you can do that for me can’t you?” he spoke into your pussy quickly before returning the same pace as before, holding you down as you writhe.

but the pain was slowly dissolved as the pleasure returned, your moans had turned into whimpers and cries as you felt yourself getting close again, fucking music to his ears. ”i’m gonna cum again stephen” you said in a quiet tone just above a whisper, barely able to make any noise other then a whimper. “cmon sweetheart you can do it” he mumbled into your pussy as your second orgasm took over your whole body, all you could think about was the pleasure in between your legs and him.

he licked up your release from his fingers, savouring the taste of *you* on his tongue. he returned above you, placing a deep kiss on your lips as you still recover from your intense orgasm panting and shaking trying to catch your breath. “please stephen i want you inside me” you begged as he smiled against your lips, his painful erection still evident in his pants. “are you sure sweetheart? you still seem like you need some time to recover” he asked in a genuine voice, you can’t get over how sweet this man was in front of you, where has he been all your life? you had never had a man eat you out so well, give you such a mind numbing orgasm. but stephen was a ladies man, always so focused on your happiness, and pleasure.

“please stephen.. i need it” you said as you began unbuttoning his shirt working your was down down down, revealing his skinny and broad frame, and his cute little happy trail that went down to his.. there’s no need to imagine it anymore, you finally get to see it, touch it, feel it, have it. you slipped his shirt off his shoulders, planting kisses on his collarbone and chest, running your tongue over his nipple lightly, stephen sucked in a harsh breath at this a dazed expression on his gorgeous face. their sensitive i’ll remember that. you thought to yourself before making you way down, you undid his belt, then the button on his pants. bulge so evident in his loose pants, the size surprised you just from looking at it through his clothes, he stopped you and pulled his pants down leaving him in just his boxers before sitting back between your legs, you could hardly breath from anticipation.

he rested both your legs to rest against his shoulder, giving him access to finally remove your small pleated skirt. he soaked in the beautiful sight of your fully naked body, from the expression on his face you would’ve thought he was looking at a beautiful piece of art in a museum, you felt slightly embarrassed by his staring but you resisted your urge to cover up. “your so so beautiful. every part of you if just perfect.” he said shyly, you can’t believe he would still avoid eye contact even after giving you the best head of your life but he couldn’t help it.. you made him nervous and he was always so unsure of himself, scared of saying the wrong thing and making you hate him forever.

he started to pull his boxers down feeling bad that he wasn’t fully naked yet, you heart dropped as you saw it.. you’d never ever guess a shy guy like stephen to be so big, it was maybe 7.5 inches? and so so thick. he bashfully stroked it once before returning above you to plant more kisses on your lips and neck, your head was spinning feeling it press against your thigh. it twitched slightly as it touched your leg, he whimpered like a girl feeling his dick pulse. “could i please?” he said this in such a whiny voice, how could you refuse him?

“of course baby go ahead.” you said reaching your hands to touch his stomach as he eased the tip in. a look of pain covered his face, his eyebrows knitting together and his mouth slightly agape. he slides in inch by inch, groaning as he works his way in. the sting sets in immediately, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex, and you’ve never had anyone as big as him.. “fuck your so big stephen” you cry as you claw at his arms that are rested comfortably on the curve of your waist. “i’m so sorry baby i know it hurts, do you want me to stop?” he strokes your hair as he stills inside you waiting for your response. “no no please i just.. take it slow okay?” he nods as he continues to ease in. the look of pain returns to his face as he tried to keep going slow, resisting the urge to push ur legs up to ur ears and fuck you senseless.

he looked so gorgeous like this, his adams apple bobbing slightly and he swallowed. “your so beautiful steve.” you think aloud and a look of surprise then a boyish smile covered his face looking down at where your bodies meet, he’s beautiful? there’s no way you really though that.. no, you were the beautiful one.

“really?” stephen said a bit above a whisper, hardly heard over small pants as he continued to work his way in and out of you. “of course sweet boy.” he whimpered at this small comment his head falling down to the crook of your neck, hands finding a spot to rest along the curves of your body. he continues to thrust into you, taking his time to feel you.

“fuck..-princess” he groaned out speeding up slightly, unable to hold back any longer. digging his fingernails into the dip in your waist, forcefully holding you still. planting open mouth kisses all over your neck, sucking hickeys and leaving gentle bites all over your chest. he rested his hand right down on top of your stomach pushing down slightly. “do you fucking feel that? can you feel me in your stomach?” his dirty talk stung your ears, such an unfamiliar sound coming from stephens mouth.

but oh fuck. yeah you could. whimpers and words of encouragement keep spilling from your mouth, you can’t help but clench around him every single time he moves inside you. “your such a good boy for me, aren’t you steve?” your are babbling at this point, slurring your words, do fucked out you can barely think. but that’s okay, because when your with stephen you don’t have to think. he’ll take care of you.

“yeah-fuck.. y/n” he almost sounds like he’s crying when he says this, fingers finding your clit as he starts going faster, pushing your legs over his shoulders as he pounds you. your legs begin to shake as you hold onto him desperately, that warm ache returning back to your stomach. “steve.-fuck im gonna cum” you cried out into his ear. “can i please please cum inside you princess? please you’ll let me right?” he perks right up as soon as he hears you say this, looking you right in the eyes while he begs.

“i..yeah steve yeah go ahead..” his whimpers turn into cries at this point, his thrusts become sloppy and random, but that feeling in your stomach only becomes stronger, gradually building to your climax.

you can’t help but shake and hold onto steve desperately, legs and arms desperately wrapping around him, needing him as humanly close as possible. you wished you could just merge into one being right now. stephen continues to whimper and cry into your neck as he finally came, a warm feeling floods your inside. feeling so full and content.

a/n: kinda hate this wow.. i haven’t written anything in a long time so i’m sorry if this is bad LOLLL but i hope you enjoyed regardless. lemme know what else you would like to see for stephen glass or any other of hayden christensens characters!

[mythicmanuscripts]

What are your thoughts on Aemond being the big spoon or little spoon? You can answer for Aegon and Jace too if you want.

Oooo great question anon!! I love this. I'm gonna write a little bit about all three of them and we can always discuss some aspects in more detail if anyone else is inspired by this and sends in their own thoughts.

There's no cut to hide behind cause this is just very cute SFW stuff, enjoy!

-----------------------------------

AEMOND:

So the first time you met Aemond you thought he was completely touch averse. He was introduced to you as your future husband, and he refused to even meet your eye never mind touch you. You still try to bond with him though, still talk to him and spend time with him while making it VERY clear that you wouldnt touch him without his permission.

But as you slowly get closer and you slowly start to touch him, it becomes very apparent that he actually seems to LOVE it. He never asks, far too scared of rejection, but when you offer his eyes light up and he starts sitting closer to you, positioning his hand in ways that makes it easy for you to take his hand.

When you eventually reach the point of actual cuddling, Aemond is very stiff. He just... he's never actually cuddled anyone before? He knows how much he loves when you hold his hand and hug him and he would love to be closer for a prolonged period of time but he honestly doesn't even know where to put any of his limbs.

Once you realise this, you pull Aemond against you, wrapping your arm around his waist so that you're spooning him. Aemond goes stiff for a few seconds, and then he relaxes back against you. He lifts his arm up to tangle his fingers with yours. You press a kiss to his neck and he sighs, snuggling into your arm.

Even as he gets more comfortable, that's still his favourite position because it just feels so nice and he doesn't have to try and figure out where to put his hands or legs. He does start to enjoy holding you as well, but I think if he's holding you he prefers you to be facing him somehow? He LOVES when you lay your head against his chest, especially because you'll often lift you head up and offer him a quick kiss.

AEGON:

Small spoon. It's not even a question about that at all, of course he's the small spoon.

The first time you cuddle with him, it's after he's had an awful day towards the start of your marriage. He's supposed to come to your shared chambers to try for an heir, as is his duty, but when he arrives you realise he looks even sadder than usual.

You pat the space on the bed next to you and when he comes to lay down, you turn him and hug him from behind. Instantly he's relaxing, mumbling thank you and grabbing your arm to wrap it tighter around him. He whines if you move even an inch.

I actually think that would happen before you two started to get closer. It takes a long time for him to realise he can open up to you, but when you offer him physical comfort he cant help himself. For the longest time he wouldnt actually tell you what was bothering him, but he started coming for comfort and spending hours napping in your arms.

Once things get more sexual and he starts submitting properly, then cuddling becomes of those things he's utter insufferable about. He can't be the big spoon, absolutely not!! He always wants you holding him when he goes to sleep, and so if you have a late engagement and retire to your shared quarters once Aegon has already been there for a few hours, then he's pouty and annoyed when you eventually arrive.

Because how dare you?? You must always be there for cuddles!!

JACAERYS:

I think Jace likes both positions equally? Being the big spoon is definitely something he spends a lot of time thinking about during those long, cold nights leading up to the wedding. You have told him on multiple occasions that the two of you can kiss and cuddle before the wedding, he refuses. He's a proper gentleman, and he refuses to do anything that could bring your honour into doubt.

So instead he just lays there, counting down the days until you can finally spend your nights next to him. He often sleeps hugging his pillow, wishing for the time to go quicker.

Once you're married, you spend that first evening just kissing and talking and when you're both too tired to stay awake, Jace asks if he can hold you. Which, of course he can. He hugs you from behind, wrapping his arm around your waist and he nuzzles his head against the crook of your neck. You giggle and intertwine your fingers with his and Jace genuinely might be in heaven. You fall asleep quickly but Jace stays awake for as long as he can, not wanting to waste a single second.

He first tries out being the small spoon after the first time you take control properly during sex. He's so sweet after, all whiny and needy and asking if he was good. You really can't help yourself and you just have to pull him into your arms, slotting in behind him. You can feel his smile when he presses soft kisses to your wrist in response.

He loves the position as much as when he's the big spoon, but I think he only requests being the small spoon when he needs more comfort than usual. That's not to say he wouldn't enjoy it when he's not upset or vulnerable, but it's more that he really prides himself on being the bigger spoon and on making you feel safe and loved and so he won't ask for the other position unless he needs it.

Though if you asked for a position change he would never say no.

[sweetiesicheng]

wonwoo - all-nighter

word count : 532

happy happy birthday to wonu >.<

-

as you go through some flashcards, you feel someone tap the top of your head. you turn your head around and see your boyfriend standing behind you. you put the flash cards down and take your earbuds out. "what are you doing here?" you whisper.

"you didn't answer my texts, so i came to check up on you," wonwoo answers. "it's almost three," he mentions.

"i'm already set on staying up, so don't try to take me back to my dorm," you say to him.

wonwoo sighs and walks away to pull up a nearby chair. you resume studying while wonwoo sits down next to you. he takes his tablet out of his backpack and starts working on something, most likely something for one of his projects.

after you finish going through your flashcards, you go through a few sections of your notes. you peek at the time, realizing how committed you are to pulling an all-nighter. then, you look over at wonwoo, who is editing photos and watching an episode of a show via spilt screen.

wonwoo glances up and notices you looking at him. "yes?"

"just wanted to see what you're up to," you reply.

"i have photos to submit for class," he mentions while starting to work again. "i know i'm your handsome boyfriend but get back to studying," he says to you.

"i can't help it. you're a distraction," you say to him. he smiles and reaches forward to kiss your cheek. you face forward again and start studying again, pulling out more notecards and writing new flashcards to help you study later.

—

after awhile, you manage to finish studying all of the material you had planned on looking over. the wooden chair is not helping your body, so you stretch your arms and sigh in relief. you look out of a window and notice that the sky had brightened up a bit, but it was still before sunrise.

you look over at wonwoo, who is still on his tablet. you peek over and see him no longer working on editing but just watching a show. wonwoo notices you and pushes you away, trying to get you to study again. you lean towards him again, but he pushes you away again.

"i'm done studying," you mention.

he takes one of his earbuds out, "do you want to head home?" he asks.

"at this point, we might as well get breakfast at the dining hall," you reply.

"it's too early still. let's go to your dorm, and i'll cook breakfast for us. you should get some sleep," he says to you.

"but you haven't slept yet either. you need to sleep," you say to him.

"i don't have class today. that's why i came to the library to find you in the first place," he explains. "come on, let's go."

you two pack up and leave the library. the dining hall isn't too far away, and you see a few runners going through their routes around campus as you walk together.

"hey," you call out to wonwoo, "thanks for keeping me company."

wonwoo smiles, "no problem. glad i could be with you," he says and kisses your cheek.

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part six)

tutor!jayce talis x reader, ekko x reader college au

content: after a week of sessions with jayce, you finally have to take your quiz

i dont think there's any warnings here...sad ekko like the chat requested though!!!

notes: i regret nothing

word count: 2.6k

series master list

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆　　 。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆

The start of class almost always was filled with you and Viktor talking. In fact, it was the way you first met—casually asking one another about the syllabus. There was a nostalgia whenever the two of you would meet before your scheduled start time. Viktor was truly a good friend, you’d always thought. You wouldn’t pass up your chats for anything. 

“Me and Jayce had a few sessions this week, I feel like I’m prepared for once.” You looked down at your planner as you spoke. 

Viktor dug in his bag, “I’m glad to hear that. It’s great to know that Jayce is a good tutor.” 

“He is,” you nodded, continuing your writing. 

A sound of your instructor coming in made you grab your laptop. On Fridays it went unspoken that the first task of the day was the weekly quiz. You shook off your hands, feeling a sudden nervousness. 

Viktor placed a hand on your shoulder, “You’ve got this.” He sent you a soft smile before turning to open his laptop—not at all phased by the quiz. 

“Not to change the subject, but,” you leaned over to Viktor, “How’s Sky?” 

You immediately noticed the blush prickle on his cheeks. “I think…we should focus on the task at hand.” 

A knowing smile found its way to you, “Send her my regards, then.” 

The both of you stifled a laugh, your whispers echoing over the quieting class. Soon, the only sound to be heard was that of paper being written on and calculators clacking. It comforted you to know that everyone seemed to take this seriously. In the sea of people, you thought, maybe there were others who also had a lot at stake. You let the thought carry you, almost sinking you into a warmth that made you feel surprisingly comfortable. 

Scrolling through the questions left you to picture your sessions, to imagine Jayce outlining the graph for you. The color coordinated arrows filled your mind, and the answers came flooding in. You had to be sure; you checked, double checked, and even triple checked for simple mistakes you’d made before. Before you knew it, you were submitting the quiz with a sharp breath in. 

You glanced over to Viktor who’d already finished. He looked at your screen expectantly, just as eager to see your result. With one click, the submission page loaded—with another your score appeared on the screen. 

“Oh my gosh?” You whispered quickly and looked to Viktor with wide eyes. 

“Does that say what I think it says?” 

“Viktor… I got an 87%.” 

“I can see that,” he mirrored you wide eyed expression but kept his tone low. “Well done.” 

“With the midterm in two weeks I really needed this.” You nodded to yourself, feeling the tears well in your eyes. As embarrassing as it might be, this was a reflection of your hard work and perseverance—you could do this. 

Viktor rubbed your now shaking arm encouragingly. “Good job.” 

You exhaled the weight of everything as you spoke, “Thank you.” 

With a quick flip of your hand, you pulled out your phone. You made sure to not make much noise, wiping the tears that threatened to fall from your lash line. Scrolling through your recent messages was much more conflicting than you’d imagined. The urge to press on Jayce’s name, to tell him immediately was immense. You let the thought come and go, deciding against bothering him with something so minuscule. Ekko, though, he’d understand. 

You grimaced at the last messages you sent to each other being so plain—empty, even, after what happened with Jayce. You didn’t intentionally push him away—there was just so much going on. 

hi

i miss you !!! 

btw i did good on my quiz…so you should come out with me to celebrate tonight…because im def celebrating 

please? 

You frowned at your phone. Enough time passed where you thought Ekko might be ignoring you. But you couldn’t pester him—that would be even worse than simply being left on seen. Deciding to let it go for now, you paid attention to the lecture, typing away notes that you would undoubtedly bring back to Jayce to decipher later. Just before you closed your laptop, a notification popped up on screen and illuminated the top corner. 

let me know where the celebration is you know i love a good party

As the first text from Ekko went away another popped up in its place. 

i missed you too

——————

For once your afternoon and evening weren’t spent in worry about the next big thing you had to do. Your quiz was done, you’d done a good job, and you still had time to prepare for the midterm. On top of this, you had the opportunity to reconcile with Ekko; you were truly grateful. 

Arriving at the bar, you were immediately bombarded with the sound of people talking and the overwhelming background music. Your eyes trailed the sea of people, searching for any familiar figures until you settled on two. Viktor and Ekko were sitting in the corner, tucked away in a spot they knew you’d like. It was slightly intimate and allowed you to actually talk—you appreciated the thought. 

You approached the table, waving at the pair. 

“Look who finally decided to show up.” Viktor joked, nudging Ekko.

They looked at each other, Ekko speaking up, “Hey, it takes time to look good, right?” 

“Absolutely,” you high fived Ekko as you slid in beside him. The booth was rounded, which you always liked. Instead of being forced to choose what side of a seated booth to be on, you could sit and see everyone equally. You’d mentioned that particularly annoying feeling before—and they remembered. “So is anyone gonna get the fries or should I?” 

“Already ordered,” Viktor said, “Ekko made sure to get those and your drink.” 

Ekko nodded, “Shirley Temple so you can be fake drunk like you do…for the vibes you know?” 

Just then, the ordered arrived. You exchanged looks with your friends, “I love you so much.” 

“And we love you,” Viktor spoke up. “But don’t be angry with me. I saw Sky walk in just a few minutes ago.” 

“In any other circumstance, I’d be a hater…but I know you like her so go ahead.” 

“You are an amazing friend.” He moved to stand, putting pressure on his cane. “I’ll be back, but you’re in good hands.” With that, he walked away and moved toward Sky on the opposite side of the bar. 

The sound of Ekko beside you broke your gaze, “Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

“Congrats on your quiz, knew you could do it.” 

You nodded, “Thank you.” You let silence fill the space for a few seconds before speaking. You didn’t want to face the awkwardness, but it was inevitable. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, it wasn’t your fault.” 

“But Jayce showed up to help me and it interrupted our whole thing—and I feel so bad.” 

“Dont,” he twisted his lip, and reiterated. “It’s not on you.” 

“You sure?” 

“I just dont like people trying to walk all over you…you don’t deserve that.” 

You agreed, “I know.” You moved to start in on your fries, taking a sip of your drink between your chews. 

You and Ekko fell in and out of conversation, sometimes letting the comfortable quiet sit between you before laughing together again. Between the sweet giggles from the both of you and the crinkles in your eyes from pure enjoyment, Ekko paused. You watched him look at you with a more serious look on his face. 

“What,” you reached for a napkin, “Is there something on my face, or-“ 

“No,” he laughed, then. “There’s just nobody like you, really.” He punctuated the sentence with a slow roll of your name from his lips. You straightened up at that, looking down at your plate of half-eaten fries. 

Usually, you just liked the ambience of a bar. The social setting got you just out of your comfort zone enough to fulfill your quota without overwhelming you. But the ruckus had done just that. To top it off, you weren’t even a drinker. You never drank, in fact. It just wasn’t a taste you enjoyed. So you settled on the somewhat enjoyable appetizers they offered and would call it a night. Tonight was different. You became increasingly aware of the sensory overload, and whatever Ekko was trying to say had you feeling stir crazy. 

“I have to pee.” 

Without another word, you pushed out of the booth and beelined it for the back of the building. You moved away from the blaring sounds of people talking, cutting the corner toward the bathrooms. Even if you didn’t have to go, the solace of a quieter room sounded nice right now. You took your time, going through the motions slow—even making sure to take extra time to dry your hands twice. Your mind wandered between the hand dryer and paper towels; the time dragged but not enough to allow you to avoid the reality waiting just beyond the door. 

You stepped out, a bit disoriented by which direction you had to go in. 

“Funny seeing you here.” 

You perked up at the sound of Jayce’s voice to the side of you. Without thinking, you approached him and paused, before reaching to hug him in gratitude. 

He continued, voice muffled by you pressing into his chest. “Heard someone did well on their quiz.” Viktor must��ve told him, you figured. 

“That would be me,” you looked up at him. “With your help, of course.” 

He backed up, breaking the hug and wiping his hands in a dramatic motion. “Oh no,” he shook his head, “That was all you.”

“Oh, please. We both know I wouldn’t have done remotely well without you.” 

He grasped both of your arms at your sides, shaking you reassuringly. “What did I say about giving yourself more credit?” 

Peering up at him, you didn’t speak, just twisted your face in recollection. You took the time to observe him, his hair looking slightly different. The volume had fallen through the day obviously, and the bags under his eyes were more visible than you’d ever seen them. 

Jayce spoke again, “So how was it? Tell me all about it.” 

You stayed close to him, recounting the details of the quiz. “And like in our sessions, I made sure to go back and check my work. Made me feel way more confident and obviously… it paid off.” You put your hands on your hips, “Eighty freakin seven.” 

Jayce just smiled warmly. Not responding, but rather just admiring you and how happy you were. He reveled in the pride you showed, knowing he had a part but that it was ultimately you who had done the work. 

With a hand on your shoulder, Jayce finally spoke. “You’re really smart, you know that?” 

You suddenly became aware of how desolate the hall to the bathroom was. The sound of people socializing only echoed as opposed to resounding in your ears. Music seemed to dissipate where it would screech. You were left with nothing but the tingling of Jayce’s grip on you and the intense focus of his eyes. 

You continued to study him, watching as his chest rose and fell—mirroring you. You blinked, finally responding through a whisper. “I have a good tutor.” 

The words just barely passed your lips—tumbling off of them slowly in a way that had the man mesmerized. You watched his eyes flicker down and then back up to you. 

The hand on your shoulder found itself snaking around and up to your cheek, a thumb rubbing small back and forth motions into your skin. Jayce allowed his other hand to mimic the motion—both of his hands now cupping your face in intrigue. 

He tilted his head slightly before pushing himself forward with urgency. You hadn’t registered how quickly Jayce’s lips connected with yours until they slowed against you—appreciating the feeling. The tension in your body had released, allowing you to reach your arms up and around Jayce’s neck. Your lips molded into each other’s, like they were meant to be there and intended to stay. You tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck, allowing yourself to nip at Jayce’s lips. 

You pulled back slightly, observing only the lower half of his face. The way the ghost of facial hair lingered there. How the swell of his lower lip almost always resembled a pout—even when he smiled. 

He couldn’t stand the distance and pulled you back in, working on a lip at a time. He groaned to himself, drowning in the sweetness of your lips. He continued to nudge into you, accidentally pushing your back to the wall. Your hands roamed his back, clawing at anything to ground you. His rough stubble, the fabric of his clothes, that scent of him that you loved so much, it was all too much. 

The sound of an approaching person startled you, even more so when you heard it was accompanied by the noise of clinking metal. When you realized, you pushed Jayce away—an apologetic look all over your face. 

A call of your name had you straightening your clothes; Jayce remained still, watching you. 

Viktor had come into view, pausing his steps at the sight of the pair of you. 

“Hey,” you spoke first. “You okay?” 

Viktor looked at Jayce, then at you. “I’m well. Just curious to see where you disappeared to.” 

“Oh…I just,” you smoothed over your shirt again, “Just had to use the bathroom.”

Viktor quickly flickered over to Jayce. “And you?” 

Clearly not paying attention and still looking at you, Jayce let out a sound. “Hmm?” 

“Are you also using the bathroom, Jayce?”

“Right, yeah…” he cleared his throat. “I just stepped out. We ran into each other.” 

With your lips? Viktor wanted to say. 

“Right, well.” You interjected, “I think this celebration’s lasted long enough.” You clasped your hands together dramatically. “I should head home for the night.” 

You allowed your peripheral to linger on Jayce, expecting something from him, before fully turning your head. He masked a smile—but the quick upturn of his lip made the motion apparent.

You awkwardly raised your hand, waving to Jayce and slipping past Viktor’s standing form. Flustered didn't even begin to explain it. You moved fluidly through the now growing crowd of people, the bar becoming more packed as the night went on. Without a second thought you approached Ekko, tapping his shoulder and motioning for him to leave with you. 

“I’m tired, I think. You wanna head out?” 

Without a reply, Ekko stood, following you toward the exit. The brisk air whipped around your skin—a chill there that hadn’t been before the sun went down. You shivered, then, both at the temperature and at the lingering feeling of Jayce’s lips on yours. 

Ekko broke your train of thought, “You okay?” 

You looked over to him, “Yeah, why?” 

“It’s just,” his focus was quickly drawn to your lips. “Just that you wanted to leave so suddenly, I guess.” His mouth seemed to open and close, searching for the words. Ultimately he was taken aback; he noticed the displaced sheen of your chapstick. The shine of the balm that was once properly placed seemed to have traveled and smeared around your mouth. 

Ekko nodded to himself, urging his body to take a step away from where he’d been so close to you. 

You cleared your throat, missing the way Ekko’s body slumped. “I just wanna get some sleep, it’s been a long week.” 

“Okay.” 

Your brow arched at him, then. “You alright?” 

Ekko swallowed in his mouth, controlling his stride and masking his distress. “I’m good…let’s head back.” 

“Okay.” Your voice trailed off. You matched his step back to your place until he stopped to see you off. Without another word, you waved bye—watching him disappear down the path. 

taglist

@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @angelicmisty @1800latenitecreep @venus-in-roses @myxticmoon @rando-no-5

[cherryheairt]

Hi :)

I’ve had this headcanon for a while where thranduil, upon falling in love again, makes it quite obvious he feels strongly about reader but won’t push physical limits of affection quite yet. Due to him having been married before he wants to be sure the Gods approve of him falling in love/marrying again as to not cause ill intend to fall upon reader because of him not being in control of his carnal desires. Reader is oblivious to this and pushes/teases him relentlessly.

Might end in smut upon him knowing reader is safe and he may pursue them fully or just him saying fuck it I see no god but me down here lol

Or just might end in him teasing back big time n leaving reader high and dry (but maybe with an explanation lol we love some open communication ✨)

Thank you! And feel free to mix it up and or change ending I’d just love to see a take on this 🙂‍↕️

hello! I'm so sorry that its been forever since you submitted this. thranduil is a character that we only ever got to see in super serious king mode, and had little screentime at that so I wanted to think through his personality a lot. might be ooc

I personally don't know how to write smut, so I didn't include it. I hope that's okay.

The character will be named Myria (meer-rhea), but have no skin color, body shape, hair color, etc description. She is eleven though, if that matters.

👑

The Gods had long since forsaken Thranduil. After he lost his wife, Legolas' mother, the world seemed to darken along with his own attitude. He changed, and everyone in Middle Earth knew it. Legolas never grew up to know the kind and magnanimous person his father was before his late wife's death.

To him, and the world, Thranduil was a stoic and unforgiving King.

To all, perhaps, except Myria. Myria had been born not too long after Thranduil—in Rivendell. Though the two never met until well into adulthood, Myria liked to say that they hit it off well. Thranduil would never admit the same out loud.

Myria moved from Rivendell to Mirkwood for her studies, thanks to her friend Elrond's advisory, and had since lived there for thousands of years. Youthful as ever, Myria made it her unofficial duty to occupy the King of Murkwood's free time.

She had even befriended his only son, Legolas, despite their age gap. The young elf was approaching 3000 years old soon, and he swore that he was more mature than the she-elf that graced their halls.

Myria didn't mind the head shakes or comments from royal advisors, telling her to mind herself around their King. Thranduil had long grown used to it, anyway.

Myria made her way to his royal chambers, uncaring about her unpropriety with visiting without being called upon. This was their daily routine. Thranduil had his meetings before breakfast, then went back to his chambers to dine alone. Or, he would, if Myria wasn't always waiting right there at his table for him.

"What is for breakfast today, My King?" Myria asked jovially, perched upon one of his carved wooden chairs. Originally, there had only been one for himself, but he ordered a matching one to me made after the woman's incessant visits. Before there was a seat, she simply stood at the table. The thought bothered him, a tinging in the back of his mind telling him that she must be on the same level as him, at all times.

Thranduil's long flowing sleeves and cloaks followed behind him as he entered the room. "You ask this every day, Myr. And what is my answer every day?" He asks, though there is no bite to his words.

"That you 'do not know'. Quite amusing, the all-knowing King not knowing something so simple." She mused, scrunching her nose up at his tall frame.

He fought an amused eye roll, sitting in front of her. He poured himself a chalice of sweet red wine, sipping on it as he replied. "Simple, or trivial? I do not concern myself with such affairs, the food is brought to me and I eat it."

"Careful, Thranduil. That may one day get you poisoned." She mirrored his movements, having waited for him to start drinking.

"By whom? Yourself?" He chuckled darkly, amused at the prospect of such a thing. Mirkwood elves' loyalties ran deep, the chances of him dying suddenly from a cold where higher than dying of poison. "You are the only outsider residing here."

Myria 'hmphed' vehemently, lifting her nose at the accusation. "I hardly can be called an outsider these days. How long have I lived here? Four...five thousand years?"

"Five thousand, two hundred and thirty." He answered for her.

Shocked, she stared at him, mouth agape. "You know the exact year?"

"How could I not? That is the year when my life started to get ten times harder."

She snorted, shaking her head. "I disagree. I think it only got better."

Two servants entered the chambers, one plate in hand each. Platters were lifted to reveal the neatly presented food, a light breakfast of fruit and toasted bread.

Myria and Thranduil dug into it, a pleasent chatter filling the room. "What are your plans for today?" She asked him.

"Same as usual, final preparations for the Feast of Starlight. Though, there is a task I wanted to assign you–" Thranduil was interrupted by a guard rushing into the room. He lifted an unimpressed brow, staring the guard down for his brash action.

"Your majesty, a party of rogue Dwarves have been apprehended in the Mirkwood forest!" To this, Thranduil immediately stood and strided past the guard out of the chambers. Myria, struck by the news, eagerly followed in suite.

"You are not supposed to sit in on prisoners being interrogated, Myria." Thranduil told her sternly, knowing the sound of her light steps trailed behind his own heavy ones.

"When has that stopped me before?" She laughed. It had been a nearly a hundred years since she'd seen a dwarf, and much longer than that since one had been in the depths of the Elvenking's Halls. She was excited to see what brave adventurers had come, and survived the dark forest's curse.

Thranduil seated himself at the head of his lifted throne, elegant giant antlers rooting themselves out from behind the throne like a crown. The one perched on his head mirrored that, thick branches striking in contrast to his pure white hair. Myria took a moment to admire him from her spot at the base of the stairs. The guard next to her didn't even blink at her intrusion, knowing the relationship between the ward and the King was a complex one that even the elders didn't bother to deduce.

Myria stayed silent during the precedings, not moving an inch except to lean her head forward and inspect the Dwarves. The party was quite large, a whole gaggle of Dwarves were bravely setting off to reclaim Erebor's keep and defeat the dragon nested under it. The leader, Thorin, was quite handsome for a Dwarf, not that Myria would say so aloud. For all her teasings, that would surely be the tip of the iceburg for Thranduil's patience.

As the majority of the Dwarves were escorted to the dungeons, only Thorin was left in Thranduil's audience. She listened as Thranduil made his offer, then got rejected harshly by the Dwarven King. Screamed at, being told off by a life form deemed lesser than an Elf, Thranduil had enough. He sent the man away with a flick of his wrist.

As he slowly desended the steps after the dwarf 'king' was escorted away, Thranduil placed a hand on Myrias shoulder.

The cold rings on his hand raised goosebumps on the back of her neck and arms, shivering at the feeling. She cursed herself for wearing an off-shoulder dress, dressing herself for the nice weather that morning. If he noticed, Thranduil didn't say anything. But the tiny lift to the corners of his mouth said plenty. "Do not fraternize with the filth that dirties our halls."

Our halls. The brief words pleasently rung in the back of Myria's mind. She nodded. He knew her well, guessing that she would try to sneak into the dungeons during the feast to try to speak with the curious Dwarves.

He moved his hand down, resting it gently on the small of her back. "Let us go, the feast will not oversee itself."

👑

Myria and Thranduil lounged in his chambers, simply biding time until the Feast of Starlight had begun. Admist muted chuckles and jests, mostly from Myria, Tauriel entered the room. "You called for me, My King?" She bowed shortly. "I have come to report to you." Tauriel glanced briefly towards Myria, nodding when she lifted a goblet towards her silvan friend.

"I thought I ordered that nest to be destroyed." Thranduil said, voice taut with frustration. The spiders had been plaguing their forest for years now, unrelenting.

"We cleared the forest as ordered, my Lord." The woman insisted. "But more spiders keep coming from nests in the South. If we could kill them at their source–"

"That fortress lies beyond our borders. Your orders are to keep our lands clear of those foul creatures. That is your task."

"And when we drive them off, what then? Will they not spread to other lands?" Ever the bleeding heart, Tauriel worried for other people.

"Other lands are not my concern." Thranduil said coldly. "The fortunes of this land will rise and fall. But here in this kingdom, we will endure." As had been the way for thousands of years. Thranduil insisted that Mirkwood keep to themselves, not needing or offering help from any others.

Tauriel nodded stiffly, excusing herself from the King's presence. Before she left, however, he spoke again. "Legolas said you fought well today. He has grown...fond of you."

She paused, thinking his words over carefully. "I assure you my Lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than captain of the guard.

"Perhaps he did once. Now, I'm not so sure." Thranduil pushed.

"I did not think that you would allow your son to pledge himself toward a lowly silvan elf." She responded, voice slightly hopeful.

Myria leaned forward, too, curious of his answer. Would he allow his heir to love an elf with no royale blood?

"You are right, I would not." Thranduil chuckled humorlessly at the thought of it. Myria bit her tongue, hurt by the comment indirectly. She was no common-born Elf, sure, but had no royal blood to speak of either. She deflated in her seat, drinking down the rest of her wine. "Do not give him hope where there is none."

Is that what Thranduil had been doing for Myria, merely giving her hope? Slivers of special attention, with no intentions of truly loving her. She stood from her seat, leaving the chambers without a word.

Tauriel, too, left quickly after that.

Thranduil stood alone in his chambers, looking at the spot where Myria had once been.

👑

The feast came and passed quickly, Myria in no mood to sing or dance like she usual did at such events. She attended for the sake of politeness, leaving when she had greeted enough people for the night.

She spend the rest of it wallowing in her chambers.

Word got out that the entire party of Dwarves escaped, and Myria silently applauded them for their boldness. She hoped, for their sake, that they were successful in freeing their home.

Days passed, and news of Smaug's death had spread to every corner of Middle Earth. Thranduil was quick to organize his army to march toward Erebor, wasting no time to retrieve his precious gems. Myria had come along on her own white elk mount, following behind Thranduil silently, if only to satiate her curiosity. Last time they had come, Thranduil had rejected the Dwarves' desperate plea for help. This time, he came to declare war if they refused to return his gems.

The damned gems. Always on his mind. True, they were a physical reminder of his late wife and Queen. But it seemed as though he dwelled on them more than he cherished her memory. He did not speak of her, ever. Even to his own son, his wife was but a ghost haunting the halls.

Myria couldn't begin to understand the loss of a spouse, but she did understand that he was too caught up in himself.

Even though she had little intention of fighting the Dwarves, Myria still brought a dagger and bow on the march. Could never be too careful, Thranduil always reminded her. She guided her elk to stand behind his, watching him greet the human leader stiffly. It was almost laughable how mad his manners were, his kingly presence deemed to good for polite small talk.

Myria had been given a temporary quarter near Thranduil's, their tents close as they usually were. He had been too busy to notice her absence lately, both to her joy and displeasure. She missed his daily warmth around her, but knew it was best to distance himself from him. Just this last journey, then she sould go back to Rivendell to live out the rest of her long and lonesome life.

Thranduil plotted with the human leader, Bard, and a wizard by the name of Gandalf. Myria wandered the decrepit town while they did, having no place in war council, nor did she wish to.

By the time she had returned, night had fallen and all the humans of the town were asleep. Myria ducked into her tent, desperate for some solid rest before a potential battle on the morrow. She was surprised to see Thranduil sitting awkwardyl on her cot.

"Thranduil? What are you doing here, you should be resting." Myria insisted, brow furrowed.He stood at her entrance, possibly being left waiting for quite a while.

"I wished to see you before we go to Erebor's gates in the morning. I suspect that the Dwarf will have something up his tiny sleeve. I know you are a capable fighter, but I want you to stay in town tomorrow just in case."

She protested sharply, "I am just as much a fighter as any elf in your army. I will not sit around and wait for you to return–"

"Please, Myria." He rested both of his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her with his deep blue eyes "I could not focus if I knew you were behind me somewhere. If I know you are safe, I can retrieve the jewels easier." Always about the jewels. He should have married them, she thought bitterly.

"Is that an order?"

"It is a request. From a friend." Thranduil said softly.

Myria bit her cheek, crossing her arms. "Fine. I will stay here on the morrow. But, if any fighting breaks out, I will join."

He seemed content with her answer, knowing its as far as he'll get with her stubbornness. "Very well, I'll see you when this is over." He planted a tender kiss to the top of her head before he left to his own tent.

👑

Myria could only watch from afar as negotiations with the Dwarves had clearly gone to shit. More dwarves had shown up, an entire army to match the Elves' golden one. Myria rushed back to grab her bow, bursting out of her tent to the sound of screams in the town. Surely the Dwarves wouldn't target the women and children who had stayed behind?

She was right. It was orcs who had invaded the town, cutting off exits as they slashed through defenseless crowds of people. Myria rushed to help whoever she could, shooting down orcs' fat heads whenever they got too close to a fleeing human. With her dagger, she slashed through whoever she could reach to retrieve each of her arrows.

This arduous process repeated for some time, Myria panting with effort as she continued. The sounds of screams toned done as golden-armored soldiers flooded into the cobble streets and started to push back at the beastly creatins. Myria breathed a sigh of relief, engaging another orc. It was larger than most, with armor protecting its head and chest. She slashed at his with a sword she had taken from dead enemy, yelping when he stabbed into her abdomen with his own weapon. She gasped, trying to keep her composure as he approached above her menacingly. As he lifted his sword above his head again, ready to strike down the Elf, his head was detached from his body in a spray of hot blood.

Myria flinched at the feeling on her skin, feeling disgusted more than she already was with the sweat and dirt covering her. Thranduil came from behind the orc, who was now dead on the floor. He crouched down in front of her, a frantic look in his eye that betrayed his regal appearance. "Myria, look at me!" He shouted, her blurry vision shakily focusing on him. He held her face in his hands, watching her try to keep them open. "It's okay, I'll get you help." Thranduil promised her, gingerly lifting her up princess style. He flinched when she protested in pain, clutching at her stomach to stop the blood from gushing out.

"It's okay, you'll be alright, sweet." He told her, repeating himself multiple times as if to convince himself, too.

He brought her outside of the town, where Elven medics had set up a discreet few tents disguised to the orc's vision by Elven magic. The King layed her gently on a stiff cot, petting her hair comfortingly as she screamed in pain at the medic disinfecting and stitching her wound up. He glared at the Elf assigned to help her, making the poor young fellow sweat in fear of messing uo in front of his King.

Eventually, the sounds outside died out. Thranduil regretted taking his forces to this pit of death. He had lost more Elves today than had ever been lost at one time since the Great War. Elves did not die easily. This was a massacre of great damage to their ranks, to their people. Thranduil mourned the deaths of his kin dearly.

Myria had calmed, pain dulling when given some numbing herbs. She focused her attention on Thranduil, "you came for me." She said, voice barely a whisper.

"Of course, I did. Why wouldn't I?" He asked, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Your gems...they're still locked away in the keep, aren't they?" She asked.

"The gems are not my priority. They are merely objects, remembrances. You are alive, I need you."

Myria felt tears blurr her vision, clamping her throat shut. "But–I am not from any important bloodline. I am not a Princess, nor—"

"I do not care. You are Myria. The woman who has been by my side for five thousand years. The only lady worthy of being Queen by my side is you."

Thranduil took her into his arms as she cried. He shushed her gently, hands locked into her hair as she clung to him.

"I love you, Thranduil. I have for a long, long time."

"And I, you, my dearest Myr."

[pink-sparkly-witch]

All She Wants, Part Three (Finale)

Summary: Dean’s experience with the wrong hormone suppressants makes him feral. The only person who can get him out of it and save his life is Y/N, the omega he had been mating with for years until she left six months ago. Without a claim and with no prospects of Dean ever giving her one, Y/N finally had enough and broke the bond they’d forged in their years together and left him, but with Sam now begging her to go to Dean and save his life, will she go, or will she leave the green-eyed alpha to his biological fate?

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Female Omega!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Alpha Gone Feral for @j3bingo

Warnings: tw: dub con claiming, omegaverse, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, language, ruts, feral alpha, agitation, aggression, smut, rough sex, biting, oral sex (f rec), fingering, p in v sex, hair pulling, heavy angst, aftercare, fluff

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Here we go… the super angsty finale of this alpha!Dean mini-series! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

You can catch up here!

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Y/N’S POV

The knocking on your motel room door startles you, and you grab your gun from the waistband of your jeans and cautiously step towards the door. Flicking the safety off, you place the barrel onto the wood and cautiously open it just enough to see who’s on the other side.

“Sam? Cas?” you gasp, throwing the door open wider.

“You should be more careful, Y/N. We could be demons or shapeshifters or any other kind of monster,” Cas speaks first, and you blink at him, amused, as always, by his directness.

“Nice to see you, too, Cas,” you smirk, opening the door wider to let them in.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam says as he leans down to hug you. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Sam,” you smile as you close the door behind them. You know whatever this unplanned visit is, it’s about Dean.

“You seem healthy,” Cas states, tilting his head to the side and frowning as if searching for something. “And yet—”

“So!” Sam interrupts quickly. “How have you been?”

“Fine…” You narrow your eyes at the alpha’s strange behaviour. “This isn’t a social visit, is it?” You finally ask.

“No,” Cas confirms, and you don’t know if you’re glad he’ll get straight to the point or if you’d prefer Sam to dance around it all a little more.

“Dean.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement. You knew from the way your stomach dropped the second you saw them that this wasn’t a good news visit.

“I asked Cas to find you,” Sam said softly.

You and the younger Winchester have stayed in touch since you left the bunker, but you agreed you wouldn’t tell him where you were, and he wouldn’t ask. It was one thing for Dean to find out they were talking, but it’d be another entirely if he knew Sam knew where she was.

“What happened?” Your mind goes to the worst possible scenario, and you try to fight the rising nausea. 

“Dean has been taking store bought suppressants,” Sam says, and you feel your blood boil.

“What? Why? Why would he be so goddamn stupid? Did he know what they’d do to an alpha in his situation?” you fume at the men as you pace the threadbare carpet.

“No. He knew they weren’t suitable long-term, but the side effects he experienced weren’t typical,” Cas answered.

“I thought it was a mix of the drugs and rejection sickness and that it’d ease over time,” Sam says calmly and quietly. “But I think he suffered some kind of chemical reaction to them, and by the time I found out what he was taking, it was too late.”

“Too late? Sam, what are you saying?” You’re terrified of what he’s so anxious to tell you.

“He’s feral, Y/N,” Cas finally puts you out of your misery, and while it’s bad news, it’s not the worst thing they could’ve told you. “But I don’t understand why you are not.”

It’s not an accusation. The angel is just curious about alphas who mate with but don’t claim omegas. To his literal knowledge, an alpha finds an omega, they mate, there’s a claim, an unbreakable bond, and pups. Your situation with Dean had always intrigued the celestial being.

“Because I’ve been taking the suppressants I should. Prescribed by a doctor. Why didn’t he do the same thing?” Contrary to the angel’s question, yours is accusatory as you look between Sam and Cas.

“You know what he’s like, Y/N. He doesn’t talk about these things, and I didn’t know until a few days ago. He’s been overcome with guilt for how he treated you, and I think…” Sam trails off, noticing from the look on your face that you know what he was alluding to.

“You think this is some kind of self-sacrifice?” you ask in disbelief. Dean is well known for his self-depreciation, and it’s something you’ve seen and heard from him many times, but this? “No… No, I don’t believe that. Why would he put himself through that just to go feral anyway? Why not just lie down and let it happen on its own?”

“You really want me to answer that?” Sam asks, and you frown.

“Sam, you can’t be serious! Dean is not doing this to punish himself for hurting me. There’s no way,” you argue, but you know the green-eyed alpha better than he knows himself. It does sound like something he’d do to himself—some kind of fucked up repentance for his behaviour.

Sam only shrugs, and you sigh, knowing you’ve both come to the same conclusion.

“So, what? You want me to go to him? Get him out of this mess?”

“You’re his mate. Only you can get him back from this,” Cas says, and you laugh bitterly, taking the angel by surprise.

“I bet Dean loves that!” you scoff. “Anytime I told him that like it or not, we’re mates, he shot me down in flames!”

“I know he hurt you, and I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, and Dean knows it too. He told me not to look for you. That he doesn’t deserve your help, but I’m asking you to think about it. Please?”

“I don’t know, Sam. If I go to him, you know what it means, right?” you check, not convinced either of them fully understand what they’re asking of you.

“I do,” Sam responds.

“And you know it’s pretty much a done deal that he’ll claim me in his feral haze? And then when he comes to, he’ll regret it and reject me? You’re asking me to sacrifice myself for him? Because I won’t survive his rejection, you both know that, right?”

“He’d never reject you, Y/N,” Cas confirms what you know in your heart, but it brings no comfort.

“Oh, because a forced claim and being stuck with someone who doesn’t want me is a better fate than dying from rejection!”

“He does want you. He loves you. He just can’t—” Sam starts, but you interrupt with a scoff.

“Give me what I want. I know, Sam. He’s told me that so many times it’s imprinted in my memory!” You huff, quickening your pacing.

You want to say no. You want to protect yourself and your fragile heart that’s still trying to heal, but you know if you were the feral one, Dean would already be here, doing everything he could to get you through it—even claiming you just so you’d survive.

He doesn’t deserve to die, and yet, you don’t deserve to be someone’s mistake, but you can’t see any other option. If you don’t go to him, he’ll die. If you go to him, and he doesn’t reject you, you’ll be miserable, but you’ll both be alive.

“Fuck!” you yell in frustration. Once again, you feel that self-loathing that only Dean seems able to bring out of you. You hate yourself because you still love him even after everything, and you’d sacrifice everything to save him.

“Where is he?”

Walking up to the secluded cabin, you shiver at the deathly silence surrounding you. As if being this deep in the woods isn’t ominous enough, there isn’t even a bird chirping or an insect buzzing in the heavy air.

You’re so deep in the woods that the midday sun can’t even breach the trees. You drove as close as you could, but you’d had to abandon your car about a mile back. This is probably the safest house Bobby had ever found, and you have to admire Dean for choosing this one to hide out in.

Sam had given you the key. At first, you’d been shocked he’d lock Dean in with no way to escape, but you knew feral alphas aren’t to be taken lightly. There had been cases of ferals going on murder sprees, and the green-eyed hunter would never risk putting people in any kind of danger.

“Dean?” you call out as you knock on the door. “It’s Y/N. Sam found me. He said you need my help.” With no response, you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for being too late, and put the key in the lock.

Pushing the door open slowly, the sour smell of Dean’s feral rut slams into you, and immediately your body begins to respond to the distressed alpha. Your skin tingles, heat floods your veins, and slick pools at your entrance. You’ve never been more grateful for a heat to come on as you are now. If it didn’t, Dean could seriously hurt or even kill you trying to get himself out of this.

“Omega,” Dean growls from the doorway of the bedroom and with one look at his bloodshot eyes, you know there’s little to no humanity in him right now.

“Alpha,” you whimper and bow your head in submission.

“Mine,” he groans in front of you, and you jump, having not heard him move across the room.

Dean buries his head in your neck and inhales your scent, gasping as if he’d been suffocating, and your scent is his oxygen.

“My ‘mega,” Dean snarls and slams you against the wooden door. You whimper at the pain and remind yourself not to fight. If you fight, things could get ugly.

Pawing at your jeans, he tries to undo them, but in his desperation to get at you, he can’t grasp the little brass button and punches the wall next to your head in frustration.

“Hey,” you purr, placing a hand on his cheek and smiling as he leans into your touch, “It’s okay, Alpha. Let me.”

Loosening the button and pulling the zipper down, you kick off your shoes, slide the denim from your legs and step out of them. Moving to your shirt, you begin pulling at the material when Dean slaps your hands away.

“No!” he growls. “Mine.”

Dean isn’t gentle when he claws at your shirt, grabbing the neckline with both hands and ripping the cotton from your body. The groan that rumbles from his belly when your lace-covered breasts are exposed to his gaze has slick soaking through your underwear.

He wastes no time placing his lips on the tops of your breasts, biting and sucking the sensitive skin, marking you in a way he never has before. Dean pulls the cups of your bra down and quickly finds a hard nipple, and you groan from his overzealous assault.

You whine as the alpha pulls away from you, but before you can complain further, Dean lifts you on his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom.

“Strip,” he orders as he places you back on your feet, and you don’t dare disobey or take your time removing your bra and panties. 

“Good girl,” he praises as he takes his clothes off, and you wonder if just being here is making him a little less feral. “Get on the bed, Omega.”

Again, you don’t dare take your time and quickly crawl onto the bed and wait for his next instruction. Dean kneels at the bottom of the bed, pulls you down by your ankles, and pushes your knees down to the mattress.

“Mine,” he growls as the scent of your slick reaches him, and he lowers his head between your legs. He’s not gentle, anything but, and his longer stubble scratches and jabs at your soft, sensitive skin. It’s sore, yet you quickly fall apart on his mouth.

Before you fully come down from your high, Dean’s fingers are inside you, and he’s sucking and biting his way up your body. When this is over, your skin will be an interesting spectrum of colour; you can already see patches of red on your breasts from earlier, and Dean’s not done with them yet as he goes back to sucking and biting your nipples.

As your forced heat takes over, the pain from Dean’s bites and rough hands ease, and all you can feel and hear now is desire and pleasure and growls and snarls, and Dean, mumbling mine over and over again while his teeth nip at your neck.

“Present, Omega,” Dean growls as he pulls back from your body just enough to let you turn around. You crawl further up the bed and lean forward onto your elbows. You unintentionally wiggle your ass as you get comfortable in your new position, making Dean growl deeply and spank your round cheeks.

You feel his hands slide up your thighs and over your ass. His touch soothes and cools your heated skin. When he finally slams into your slick, aching pussy, it’s hard, rough, and deliciously painful.

Dean is fully feral, and there’ll be no stopping him until he comes out of the rut in five or six days. You know it won’t be pretty, and you won’t come out of this unscathed. At least your heat is making you feel like a wanton whore.

As your humanity is overtaken by omega, much like Dean’s is with alpha, your last thought is being grateful for being in a cabin in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere.

It’s been six days, and Dean still pounds into you like there’s no tomorrow. Your heat is starting to wane, but hasn’t subsided so much that you won’t still be pliable under his hands. Still, at least the heat fog is beginning to lift, and you hope it’s a sign that Dean’s rut is finally ending.

It took four knots to get him out of his feral state, but his rut is intense, and he’s insatiable. You suppose the combination of suppressants and being feral will do that to an alpha. 

“‘Mega,” Dean grunts as his hand slides up your spine and grips your neck. “So good for me, baby girl.”

His praise makes you purr, and you feel his hand slide from your neck into your hair and wrap his fist around it, making your body turn to jelly. Dean tugs your hair, and you’re forced to raise to your knees, your back pressed against his chest, and he pulls your head to the side by your hair, exposing your neck to him.

It’s already black and blue from the gnawing he’s been doing there this past week, but this is different. He’s scenting you and licking your mating gland and whining. Dean loves licking and kissing your neck, but not like this. It feels different. There’s a change in the atmosphere, and his thrusts are brutal and stuttered.

You try to move, try and get him away from you, but he snarls and yanks your hair painfully, keeping a hold of it so you can’t move.

“Dean,” you whimper, and he snarls again at the use of his name, and you know he’s not as far out of this rut as you’d hoped. “Alpha, please,” you beg, but it’s useless. He’s too far gone again. His mouth is sucking on your mating gland, and he’s growling and grunting as his knot swells and catches at your entrance.

“Please don’t do it, Alpha. It’s just the rut. You don’t want this… you don’t want me, please!” you cry. But as his knot slips inside, locking you together, your head falls back on his shoulder, and when his teeth break your skin, you scream your release and lose the little self-control you had earlier.

Coming down from your high, you notice that Dean is still latched onto you, and you can feel blood dripping down your neck. The sudden rush of hormones and pheromones from the claim makes you reach another orgasm, and this time, you take the alpha with you. Grunting and growling, Dean’s release coats your walls, and you let the blackness take over.

When you come to, you’re on your side, and Dean is cleaning and soothing the wound on your neck with gentle licks and soft kisses. You’re still locked together, and every twitch of his cock catches your G-spot and fills your womb with even more of his seed.

A brief thought that he could’ve gotten you pregnant crosses your mind, and you hope the fates aren’t so cruel as to have this be when you get your wish of pups; not like this.

The last week finally catches up with you, and the lullaby of Dean’s whines and whimpers, combined with his soft kisses, lull you into a deep sleep.

The sun’s warmth on your face begins to wake you from sleep. Your muscles feel heavy, and Dean’s lips caress your back and shoulders.

“Morning, Omega,” he rasps behind you, sliding a warm hand over your hip, and a pang of dread settles in your stomach. You’re tired, every muscle in your body is screaming at you, and your pussy is in agony from a week of rough pounding and knots courtesy of the alpha pulling you closer to his body. If he’s still not out of this rut, you don’t think you’ll survive another round.

“Don’t worry,” Dean chuckles. “I’m not feral anymore, and the rut has gone.”

You’re confused, wondering how he knew what you were thinking. You don’t think you groaned. In fact, you’re pretty sure you didn’t even move. Your body is too sore to even tense up.

Then you remember Dean claimed you and that he did it while in a feral rut. 

As your whole world comes crashing down around you, you do the one thing you’d rather die than do in front of Dean.

Cry.

DEAN’S POV

Devastation. That’s all he can feel radiating from the omega next to him. When he woke an hour ago, he’d been happier than ever. The second he claimed Y/N, there was a shift, and all felt right in the world.

He thought—naively, he now realises—Y/N would be happy. It’s what she wanted. What she needed, but the sheer anguish from her tells a different story. The worst part of all this is the shame he feels for claiming her without her consent and the knowledge that now, she’s stuck with him whether she wants to be or not.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay,” Dean tries to soothe her and presses his lips to her shoulder. “Y/N, look at me, please?” She remains on her side, facing away from him and crying, and the alpha in him takes over. His omega is in distress, and he needs to fix it. “Omega, look at me!” he growls lowly, and watches as Y/N obeys his order and timidly rolls onto her back.

Dean’s jaw drops, and he’s disgusted with himself as he takes in her abused torso. There are a couple of bites and bruises on her back and shoulders, but it’s nothing compared to what covers her neck, breasts and stomach. There’s so much bruising that barely any skin has been left unblemished. As he scans further down her body, he can see the same damage over the tops of her thighs and between her legs.

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry. I—” Dean can’t finish; he has no words for what he did to her. He immediately gets out of bed and fills the tub with hot water. There’s only so much he can do for her out here in the cabin, but the safe house is stocked with first aid supplies, medication and dry and tinned food. 

When the tub is full, he shuts off the water and walks back into the bedroom, seeing Y/N still lying on her back and seemingly void of all emotion. Whether it’s on purpose to shut him out or she’s in shock, Dean’s not sure.

Walking over, Dean lifts her from the bed and carries her into the bathroom. He lowers her into the hot water and bathes her gently, mumbling words of comfort, hoping she can hear him and that she can find it in her to forgive him.

Y/N’S POV

After tenderly bathing you, Dean left you to soak in the warm water a little longer, telling you there were clothes in the wardrobe and that he’d make something to eat.

“Please eat with me, omega. You need to get your strength up, and we need to talk,” Dean had begged before he left, closing the door but not fully so he could still keep an eye on you.

He was right; you do need to talk. And eat. You feel weak and lightheaded and desperately in need of something to take away the pain that’s pulsing through every inch of your body.

When the water has lost its warmth, you climb out and wrap yourself in a towel, avoiding the mirror in the corner. Dean’s reaction earlier is enough for you to know you’ll burst into tears if you see it for yourself. And you can’t bear to see his claim on your neck when it was given under duress.

Pulling clothes from the wardrobe, you choose the softest and biggest things you can find. You know from the smell that the sweats and t-shirt are Dean’s, but you’ve always gotten comfort from his scent, and you suspect you’ll get even more from it now.

Coming out of the bedroom, you follow the noise towards the main part of the cabin and find Dean spooning pasta into bowls in the kitchen.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asks, stopping what he’s doing to give you his full attention.

“Sore,” you chuckle, pulling out a stool. You hiss and wince, the throbbing—and not the good kind—between your legs getting worse for a few seconds as you sit.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean… I hate that I was so rough. That I’ve hurt you,” Dean says as he pushes a bowl and fork towards you.

“You were feral, Dean. It’s not your fault,” you reply, and you mean it. It’s really not his fault.

“It is, though, sweetheart. If I had taken the right suppressants, I wouldn’t have gone feral, and I wouldn’t have claimed you without your consent.”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. I’m just sorry you’re stuck with me,” you smile sadly. “And if you want to leave, I get it. I know I’m not what you want—”

“Would you stop saying that?” Dean interrupts. “I do want you. I have always wanted you. I’m scared that tying you to me will put you in danger.” The desperation rolls from him in waves, and you know he’s telling you the truth. You can feel it. “I want you, Omega. I want this. I don’t regret claiming you. I regret doing it against your will, and if you want to leave me… reject me… It’s what I deserve, and I’ll let you walk out of here right now, but please stop saying that I don’t want you, Y/N. You’re all I want.”

The chemical bond you now share with Dean is overwhelming. He feels more deeply than he ever lets on, and regret over the non-consensual claim is putting it mildly. He’s distraught over it, and his feelings are so strong that you can almost hear the thoughts in his head telling him he’s stupid and he’s fucked things up before it’s really started between you. You can’t take it. You can’t let him think you don’t want this too.

“You’re all I want too, Alpha. The reason I got so upset when I realised you could feel how I felt is because it was a rut claim, and we’d be stuck together and miserable and resentful, and I didn’t want that for either of us, but I could never reject you, Dean. I love you too much.”

The relief that washes over him makes you smile, and because of your new bond, you know he knows every word is true.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t admit it before, and I’m sorry I didn’t give you what you wanted sooner.” Dean slides off his stool and comes to your side with a tube of cream in his hand. “Now, let me see that claim. It needs something on it, sweetheart.”

You tilt your head to the side and pull the neck of the shirt down, exposing the angry, swollen bite mark. Dean gently covers the wound with the medicated cream, and you hiss at the sting.

“Sorry, baby girl.” Dean winces, feeling your discomfort as clearly as you can. “Now, eat and then bed, Omega.”

“Just to sleep, right?” you ask, scrunching up your face and wriggling in your seat at the thought of him going anywhere near your pussy for at least a week. “No sex?”

“No sex,” Dean laughs. “You need to rest, sweetheart, so just lots of cuddles and closeness and bonding and sleep.”

THE END

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

Imagine: You and Rio are at the Avengers Compound for Thanksgiving and you’re in charge of baking pies….this can only lead to good things. (Rio Vidal x gn!reader)

Author’s Note: I really wanna get back into writing stuff like this. Like…I just LOVE Rio.

Now I’m wondering if I should do crossovers…like putting Anya in the Avengers universe and whatnot.

(CW: I don’t think any are applicable? Lmk if there’s one I need to put)

You still honestly don’t know how she did it.

By some miracle, your girlfriend Rio had managed to contact the Avengers and get them to invite you for Thanksgiving, or rather the day before. Sure you’d been an intern at the Compound, but it wasn’t for that long, and they likely didn’t know Rio.

And yet here you are, standing in the kitchen as Rio searches up pie recipes; while Tony is out getting some food at the last minute, Wanda, Vision, Peter, and Steve are all watching The Dick Van Dyke Show while Yelena, Nat, Pietro, and Kate are attempting—and attempting is very much stressed—Clint and Bucky how to play Cards Against Humanity; it’s honestly really funny to watch.

“Okay,” Rio huffs, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I found a recipe for a pumpkin pie.”

“What else?” you ask.

Rio blinks. “Is that not enough?”

“You’re sleeping on pecan pie,” you scoff.

“Pecan?” she asks, her face scrunching up in confusion. “Like the nut pecan?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “What else do you put in it?”

“…Fruit or pumpkin,” she exclaims in disbelief. “You put fruit or pumpkin in it. Who puts nuts in a pie?”

“I do!”

Rio huffs. “What’s next? Are you gonna tell me you put chocolate in it?”

“Yeah, actually,” Kate replies as she looks through her stack of cards. “French silk pie.”

“There’s also meat pie,” Yelena adds. “I love putting hot sauce on mine.”

Hearing this, Rio is in shock. “You put MEAT? In a PIE?”

“Yeah? Is this really such a novel concept? I mean, in Russia, there’s a pie with a filling or salmon or sturgeon, rice, hard-boiled eggs, mushrooms, and dill.”

Now both of you are shocked. “What?” you both exclaim.

“Who puts fish in a pie?” you stammer.

“Russians,” Nat shrugs.

“All pie is good pie,” Steve says, “But nothing beats a classic apple pie.”

“Pecan,” you insist. “Pecan beats it.”

“That’s up for debate,” Clint says as he looks at the cards that people submitted. “Who put down ‘Object permanence’?”

“That was me,” Kate says.

“How does ‘object permanence’ fit this?”

“It’s about abstract connections,” Pietro shrugs.

As they continue the game and sitcom, you and Rio ponder what to do about the pie selection.

“Maybe we could make small pies of everyone’s favorite pie?” you suggest.

“I don’t think we have enough ingredients for that,” Bucky says.

“Or we could just make a pie with everything in it,” Rio suggests.

Silence.

“….I’ll pass,” Kate gags.

“Remind me not to leave you in charge of the pies next year,” Steve says.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind seeing what that tastes like,” Yelena shrugs.

“I think you’re gonna end up regretting it,” Nat chuckles.

“How much of the pie dough ingredients do we have?” Wanda asks.

“….Some,” Rio answers with a shrug.

“….Not very helpful,” she sighs. “(Y/N), any ideas?”

You blink. “What she said.”

Vision seems to be calculating something, “Hmm….”

“Vis?” Wanda asks.

“If I can recall, we have precisely enough for…..three pies,” he says.

“Great, so we choose three kinds,” Peter says.

“But which three?” Bucky asks.

“We have to have pumpkin, no questions asked,” Rio declares.

“I’m not sitting down to eat without a pecan pie,” you say.

“Wait…how did you say the name of the nut?” Steve asks.

“PEE-cahn,” you answer.

“I think it’s supposed to be pih-CAHN,” he says.

“No, it’s a long E sound,” you argue.

“Not a chance; it’s short E.”

“Who in their right mind puts an emphasis on the SECOND syllable?”

“Pretty sure it’s PEE-can,” Kate says in confusion.

“Don’t even start,” Clint groans.

This goes on for….about five minutes until Rio finally puts it to rest.

“Forget the pronunciation. Let’s focus on the pie.”

“So….pumpkin, the nut pie, and….what else?” Peter asks as Tony walks in, carrying a turkey.

“You’re still not finished with the pies?” he asks in disbelief.

“We haven’t exactly started,” you say sheepishly. “We’re still deciding on the flavors; we have pumpkin and PEcan, but we need one more.”

Tony huffs. “I don’t know, how about you surprise us?”

Immediately the compound goes silent, Rio’s grin slowly growing.

“How about you go sit down with them, my love?” she suggests in a voice that’s way too sweet. “I can handle it from here.”

“A….are you sure?” you gulp.

“No. No, we’re NOT sure,” Clint objects.

“Just leave it to me,” Rio says.

And after a lot of insistence, and complaining from Tony, you let her.

Later that night, after the main course and sides are finished, Rio serves up the pies. None of them are labeled, though. And they all look the same. You decide to pick one at random and Rio cuts you a slice.

“Close your eyes,” she tells you as she sets down the slice. “And take a bite.”

Foolishly, you decide to put your trust in her baking and take a bite.

Almost immediately, the taste hits you; it’s fruity, savory, cruciferous….a bit of everything, especially spicy. But not in a good way.

“Rio?” you ask as Yelena takes a slice of the same pie. “What kind of pie is this?”

She shrugs. “I just kinda used a bit of everything. That’s what you put in pies, right?”

“….Did you put hot sauce in this?” Yelena asks.

Rio smirks, nodding and also handing her a bottle of hot sauce.

“Yes!” she exclaims as she practically shoots the sauce onto her pie.

Tony sighs and Rio shrugs once more. “Hey, you said to surprise you.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

I already submitted a request, so I don't know if I can do it again. If not, then sorry, and ignore my message.

You wrote that we can request something of our own. How about any of these options?

1.Gojo loves his wife very much. And when the Elders send her 24/7 without rest on dangerous missions. Gojo becomes very angry with the elders.

2.Gojo again boasts to the reader that he is the strongest. But she answers him that he does not have to be the strongest with her, he can just be Satoru.

I just had to write that first idea down, thank you so much <3 Hope you enjoy!

A word of power

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: When his wife is sent to missions over and over until it visibly gets to her, Gojo decides to do something against it.

Warnings: lanugage, mentions of injury, not proofread

„Hey darling.“

Your heavy footsteps echo through the dark hallways of your apartment, eyelids hanging heavy in your face. That was a rough mission. The how many? You lost count at 20. It seems like all you do is exorcise, eat, sleep a few hours and repeat everything. You loved being a jujutsu sorcerer by heart, it is a great honor for you to be able to help people this way. But nights like this, when you don’t get to enjoy the warmth of your own home until well after midnight, it really gets to you.

“There you are honey, what took you so long?”

But no matter how rough the mission was, no matter how late you come back, this one person is always there to greet you with a cup of hot tea and a shoulder to cry on. After all, your husband knows well enough how it feels to carry the burden of being a strong jujutsu sorcerer. With the slight difference that he is in fact the strongest.

“Oh, y’know…Things got a little heated, had some new students by my side to watch. One of them got injured so I stayed with him and Shoko until he was well enough to survive the night. Tomorrow I’ll have to leave pretty early in the morning”, you explain briefly, barely able to formulate a straight sentence.

Satoru’s eyes scan over your bruised and feeble looking body. How many missions in a row do you have to endure until these old farts decide to give you a break? You are an outstanding jujutsu sorcerer, probably better than anyone else at Jujutsu High apart from himself. And you have a heart of gold – too good for these people. They use you and you don’t seem to mind as long as you help the weaker and your students out. Normally Gojo admires you for composure, endurance and strength. But haven’t you given enough? Even the strongest need rest from time to time.

“I don’t like the way they are treating you. You are pushed from mission to mission, (y/n). This can’t go on like this, I haven’t really seen you for days. You’re only home to sleep and eat something from time to time.”

You let yourself fall in his lap, instantly greeted by his strong arms. Oh, it feels so good to be back where you belong – in the embrace of your beloved husband.

“You know it yourself: the worst part about being strong is that no one ever asks if you’re okay”, you sign.

He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead, but his body tenses under you. Satoru already told you multiple times that it can’t go on like this. And even though you secretly agree with him, you see no other way. The people need you, as well as your students. Maybe it just isn’t part of the job to have many breaks.

“But I do. And I care about my wife’s wellbeing more than about Jujutsu High itself. I will talk to them. I can’t watch anymore.”

“Satoru.”

Your tired eyes lock with his. You had this talk over and over. Even though you really appreciate his concern, you don’t want him to use the power he has for you.

“You know what I think about that, please don’t.”

“But baby, I really miss you! You lost a fair amount of weight, you sleep maybe 8 hours a week and are constantly worn out. It can’t go on like this. I know that this isn’t a job but your passion and that you refuse to let anyone down, but at the moment, you neglect yourself the most. You need to be your own priority. And if you don’t want to stand up for yourself, be sure that I will. Because I love you with all my heart and I promised to be there for you.”

You really don’t deserve him. Satoru looks after you like no other, his six eyes always set upon you. How can a woman be so lucky and call him her wife? To be honest, you still have no clue why he chose you. Was is because you are strong? Or because you’re smart? Maybe it was for your looks, but there are tons of beautiful women on this earth. You hug him a little tighter.

“I love you, Satoru”, you breathe out, small smile hanging on your lips while your mind slowly drifts away.

Sleep. Sleep sounds good at the moment. Maybe you can rest your eyes for a few seconds…

“(y/n), are you still with me?”

No reaction. The air is only filled by your soft and monotone breathing. He smiles at you tenderly, hands wrapped around your knees and back in order to carry you into the bedroom where you belong. He knows you hate it when he stands up for you, stating that he shouldn’t use the power he holds as the strongest to send you into vacation. Although being married to him, you want to stay independent in your job. Oh, what a great catch you are. But this can’t go on like this.

He lays your passed out body gently on the bed and tucks you in, thumb gently caressing your cheek. How is it possible that even after 2 years of marriage, he still admires your beauty like on the first day he met you at Jujutsu High? No matter how tired and worn out you are, no matter that your body is marked by your work. You must be the most beautiful woman in this world – externally and internally.

Satoru’s hands ball into fists. And that is exactly why he has to do something against this madness. You might be tender, sacrificing selfless, but he is certainly not when it comes to you. They won’t get away with this.

_____________________________________________________________

“Don’t do anything stupid, darling”, you warn him, eyes still glistering from lack of sleep.

You know that look on his face all too well. It doesn’t sit right with him that you leave, especially this early. But you have no other choice. These people need you, as well as your students. When you became a jujutsu sorcerer, you knew it would be hard work and that you have to put your own needs on the back burner. Oh, how much you’d love to spend a day with your husband at Jujutsu High, finally teaching the young how to use their abilities again.

But this is your destiny now. And if you can make your contribution with that, you will simply endure it.

“Don’t know when I’ll come home. I text you when it’s over. Love you”, you place a small kiss on his cheek and take in his scent one last time before you leave again.

Satoru puts on his uniform and makes his way to Jujutsu High. Fuck your determination and prohibitions. He doesn’t care about those anyway. The only thing that’s important to him at the moment is your well-being.

“You’ve got some nerve”, he starts, bursting into the room where Yoshinobu Gakuganji, Masamichi Yaga and some other old farts are gathered on the floor, gazing at him with nothing but annoyance in their eyes.

“You can’t just barge in here like that”, Gakuganji comments.

“I really don’t give a fuck. How is it that my wife has been sent on missions without a break for months? Find someone else to do your dirty work”, Satoru hisses, face visibly irritated even though he’s wearing his blindfold.

“She never complained though. You know yourself that jujutsu sorcerers don’t grow like grass in a meadow. She’s efficient, sturdy and straightforward. She’s old enough to take care of her own, Satoru”, Yaga replies dryly.

Is this for real? Again, Satoru’s hands ball into fists, whole body on fire. Are they actually listening to themselves?

“Yeah, she never complained because she literally never does, boneheads. That was her last mission for time being, otherwise I’ll torch the whole place here. Never forget that it’s my wife we’re talking about.”

“You would never do that”, Utahime remarks.

“Don’t. Test. Me.”

“This is my last warning. Put her back as a teacher, which is actually her main job in this rat hole. If something like that happens again, I’ll make your life living hell. Mark my words.”

And with that, Gojo storms out of the room, leaving everyone in awe. They have never seen him this serious and angry. Maybe you really do need a break.

“I have to say…(y/n) worked her ass off over the last few weeks, more than any other jujutsu sorcerer…”, Gakuganji throws into the room.

“You can’t imagine what happened!”, you yell through the whole apartment, a smile creeping up Satoru’s face.

“I bet you’ll tell my in just a second”, he replies.

“I’ve got some time off, no mission in sight! And I will get to finally teach again. God, I really miss the students”, you groan, letting yourself fall into Satoru’s arms.

“What a lucky coincidence. They must have finally realized that you are working yourself up.”

“Don’t fool me, I know exactly that you have something to do with this. Even though I told you not to.”

“(y/n), I would never do that! As a good husband, I would never in a million years even think about doing something you told me not to do!”, he dramatically announces.

“You threatened them, didn’t you?”

“Well, y’know. I told them a few things”, he admits with a sly smile

You want to be mad at him for disregarding you, but you simply can’t. Deep within, you are way too relieved over a good amount of sleep that you can even think about lashing out on him for helping you.

“Please tell me you weren’t mean.”

You wrap your arms around his large frame and kiss him passionately. God, how much you missed this. Finally you are able to enjoy time with your husband again, to wake up next to him in the morning and snuggle up to him, no following mission lingering through your mind. Only now you realize how tired and worn out you actually are. If it wasn’t for Satoru you’d probably break down rather sooner than later. Maybe you really need to stand up for yourself more…

“Oh, I was. But I don’t want to think about these old farts right now. Let’s go to bed instead.”

“Nothing better than that”, you mumble against his chest while sleep consumes you all over again.

[historyslittlebish]

Hello. I would like to ask for your permission before I submit a full request.

Do you by any chance accept King Baldwin x Male!Reader request? It might involve NSFW scenario as well.

King Baldwin IV x Male!Guard!Reader One shot NSFW: (Completed!)

a/n: Hi anon and I know I declined but I'll still do it because I feel bad for rejecting, Idk how to write NSFW so it's gonna be bad but i'll do it. I also don't know if this is a scenario you wanted but if you wanna request a different one please do! Also I apologize because I have never watched the movie and I'm not sure how accurate this is.

==========================================

Warning: fluff, handjob, occ for our king I think

It was often unheard of, two men in a romantic or sexual relationship. Many thought it was sin, it wasn't something god accepted but they can never really know the answer can they? Why would god let them feel the feelings, why would god allow it to be an option? That is something many people never ponder enough.

Something that a knight named Y/N never pondered until he met with the great king of Jerusalem, Baldwin the IV.

Y/N had been hired as a knight since Baldwin was 12 and Y/N was 15 and a freshly knighted boy. As years past, Y/N was named best soldier in the brackets of the armies. He was agile, quick, resilient, strong, and most of all, loyal.

He was the kings personal guard which he didn't mind at all. He had grown close to the king, enough to get the king to show him his sore ridden face, his scars, his 'ugliness' but to Y/N, he was anything but ugly.

Y/N saw a kind hearted boy and man growing up, intelligent, brave, and strong willed, those were the words Y/N thinks when describing the king, everyone does.

Growing up, he saw Baldwin's determination to become a great king and to overcome his deadly illness. Only one could be truly possible but Baldwin was content, despite being numb to the bone, skin lesions, and more.

Today was like any other. Baldwin had a few things to get done but after that, he could have his peace.

Y/N stood slightly behind the throne Baldwin sat on, staring at the arguing lords and counsel members. Each fighting on whose strategies are better, who's morally righteous, whatever that is available to bicker about.

Y/N heard Baldwin sigh as he raised his hand and made a sound.

Suddenly everyone looked over and quieted down.

"I will meet with Saladin, we shall negotiate peace." Baldwin shifted slightly before hearing one of the older counsel members try to inerject.

"How do we know we can trust that Muslim r-" Baldwin raised his hand once more, immediately silencing the man "He may be Muslim, but we will respect him and treat him with nobility and equality.".

Y/N's heart thumped in his chest at the kings word. The kings kindness and true compassion was incredibly admirable but also making him lust for the king.

The people of the counsel glanced between each other but bowed at the kings words before swiftly making their exit, allowing the two men to be alone and at ease.

Baldwin slowly stood from his throne and looked at Y/N.

Y/N could see the exhaustion in his eyes, his beautiful sky blue eyes. Y/N snapped himself out of his thoughts and kept up a stoic expression.

"What now, my king?" Y/N asked as Baldwin stepped towards him. The king cautiously touched the mans arm and looked deep into his eyes. "I think I require a way to relax before I retire for tonight." As he said this, Baldwin's hand tools Y/N's and slowly led it down to his pelvis area where a little tent formed under his white and gold robes.

"My king.." Y/N breathed as his hand ghosted the man's bulge.

"Make me a happy man, Y/N, I long for your touch." Baldwin's raspy voice murmured as his being was consumed with lust. Y/N doesn't know how a man of God to dare go against him in terms of lust for another male but Y/N can't say he doesn't thoroughly enjoy it.

It doesn't take too long before Y/N helps the king to his quarters and settling on the soft and silky bed.

Y/N helps the king reveal his bulge.

His cock bobbed as soon as it was released from its confines. "Y/N.." Baldwin groans as his hips slightly buck. This is one of those moments when Baldwin thanks the heavens that the feeling in his crotch is not numb or too sore ridden.

Despite the sores, Y/N didn't mind at all. his hungry eyes took in all the kings cock as he played with the tip soaked in pre-cum.

Baldwin groaned as he sat half laying down as the man continued to fiddle with his manhood. Y/N loved the sweet sounds the king was making as he felt himself nearing his peak.

The man let out a loud moan as his semen spilled into the mans hand. As the king came down his high he stared at Y/N in awe, despite him being hired and a guard, he could still love a man like him.

Slowly, Baldwin sat upright and gently grasped Y/N hand, silently hoping that he would not get infected either. Baldwin leaned over and pressed a his to the mans temples.

Y/N softly smiled as he held his beloveds hand, enjoying each others presence. Love radiating off the two.

This is a sin but it is an amazing feeling.

A/N: Hopefully this is to your liking anon! Sorry if its bad :/

[fishsticksloser]

If it's alright - And if it's not then i understand if you're going to delete this - to request about Rise! Future! Leonardo x Rabbit yokai!fem!Reader? (NSFW S3x), where Leonardo and reader get into roleplaying as cowboy Shierff and an outlaw female criminal. Leonardo is the dominating one while reader is the submit side.

And yes it would involve things like; ropes tying, rough S3x, Leonardo getting to cowboy accent (?)

/ 🐔 Anon reader /

If You Can't Be Good, Be Bad With Me

f!Leo x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut with a tiny plot, p in v, rough sex, light bondage (handcuffs), ear and tail pulling, spanking, slight Sir kink, Leo has a country accent, Leo calls you a good/bad girl (sue me...), rabbit yo'kai!reader, FAKE guns, swearing, enemies to lovers if you squint really really hard

A/N: I've spent like 2 months writing this because I was just sitting there looking at it and going "wtf do I do?" But here you are, so sorry for the wait. I actually threw out the first draft because I hated it so much... This is a little different than the prompt and I apologize, my brain couldn't do it. :/

"My, my, my... What have we here?" Leonardo's voice was deep, soothing, and with a faint drawl that spoke of Texas. His words were slow and measured, just before he'd bring the hammer down with that thunderous attention. Leo squinted at you, narrowing his gaze before slowly walking towards you. "You look like you're on the wrong side of the law there, doll." Leo stops in front of you, hands on his hips just above his holsters. "What're you doin' on this here land, Miss?"

"Doin' what I can to survive, sheriff." You answer, continuing to stuff your pockets and bag with whatever was in reach. You seemed completely unbothered that the sheriff was standing over and watching you. "Is that a crime?"

"Well yes, it is." Leo responds cooly, his stance loose and relaxed despite you obviously committing a crime. His hands hover over his holsters, his tone becomes more intimidating. "The punishment for those crimes tends to be less uh... agreeable. And yet... I could be lenient with you." Leo's face softens as he looks down at the small, humanoid rabbit. He kneels down to get a better look. "And what exactly is in your pockets, little one? Come now, let's have a look."

You open your bag and empty your pockets. Its not like you were stealing much of anything really. Some bread and not so valuable things like knick knacks and trinkets. Nothing that's really worth anything.

"No guns?" He mutters, eyeing you up and down with a sly, teasing smirk. "That makes things so much sweeter." Leo's eyes twinkle in the sunlight as he stand up. His gaze seems to study every little crevice in your face, taking note of your expressions, trying to figure out everything about you. "You're not from these parts, are ya, darlin'? What's your pretty face doin' so far down south?"

"Got kicked outta town for not marryin' my suitor. Left with nothin'." You repond, repacking your bag and pockets. "Train only took me this far..."

"Not bein' married? Why, now that's a crime against the holy union of man and woman, darlin', 'specially out here." Leo shakes his head placing a hand on his face, feigning disgust. His other hand still rests on his holster. "Can't just leave you out here in this hot dust storm." Leo's eyes flicker up to your face and he grins widely.

"I've got nowhere to go." You say, pleading. "Please just let me go, I'll... I'll go find a place to settle down and be law abiding."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't let that happen, darlin'," Leo responds, his tone slowly becoming slightly more forceful. "The folks 'round these parts say you've done some unsavory and illegal things. I can't just let a law-breaker roam free like that." Leo seems to enjoy your pleas, leaning in more. He leans his body close to yours, whispering close to your ear. "Unless you want to do something for me..."

"And what would that be, sir?" You ask quietly, a shiver running down your spine as his breath fans over your ear. Leo grins as he leans in, his lips inches from your ear.

"You could do all sorts of things for me. It's such a shame for a pretty little thing like you to be caught for crimes you definitely didn't do. But, I'm feeling generous today, and, as the local lawman, I can definitely overlook your sins, darlin'." The corner of his lips curl into a smug grin. "All for a few private favors from you."

"You catch my drift?" He asks, his voice talking on a more predatory tone as his fingers graze down your waist and back. His hot breath caresses down the back of your neck, his eyes burning into your form before glancing back at your own. "Such a delicate, pretty thing..."

"Yes, sir. I understand." You mutter, your ears standing tall and twitching slightly.

"Good girl." He whispers as he leans in close. "And you know if you do well, maybe I could be generous and let you off of that punishment." Leo's voice comes out low and smooth, almost sultry as he leans back just enough to let his fingers stroke along the side of your face. "All you have to do is play nice, understand?"

"Yes, sir." You nod firmly, his eyes seem to study you once more. His fingers slide down and grasp your chin, gently tilting your face upwards as his other hand reaches for your waist.

"Good girl." He says, his eyes burn like hot coals as he bring your face inches from his. "And you know, when I get back to town, I have to write a report. And if I see my girl following through with our little arrangement, I'll make sure they know what a good girl you've been. If you're a good girl. Got it, darlin'?"

Who knew you'd end up here?

"Yes, sir."

"Mm... That's a good girl." Leo whisper as he closes the last few inches between you and him, pushing his lips against yours in a quick but firm kiss. He pulls back slowly before speaking. "You don't mind if I let these hands wander now, do you, darlin'?"

"No, sir." You mumble as he kisses you again, eyes fluttering closed and your hands move to cup the back of his head. Leo grins as he continues to kiss you, his body slightly tilting to get a better grip on you. HIs right hand wraps around your waist and pulls you closer as his left searches through his pocket for something. He fumbles around for a bit more before pulling out a pair of handcuffs.

"Oh, and I almost forgot. Can't be letting my pretty, lawbreaker darlin' roam free... 'specially after getting caught." He chuckles and beings to fasten your arms behind your back with the cuffs. You don't protest, letting him fit the cuffs on your wrist comfortably. "Good girl. Now, I have just the punishment in mind." He says with a smirk, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer. His other hand grips your chin as he kisses your neck softly. "Maybe I could show you what being a good girl for me would get you, darlin'. If you play your cards just right, I might be feeling generous with another reward."

You let out a small whine, basically having no other option and really not in the mood to say no. You give him a small nod and tilt your head to the side to give him better access. His lips meet your neck again, travelling upwards to finally find those sweet, soft lips of yours.

"That's an obedient girl... You know, you're lucky I like good girls. I mean, you could be in big trouble if you had been a bad girl." He whispers, his hands massaging your hips, slowly sliding them upwards. Leo decides that his lips are not the only way of satisfying the desires, sliding his hand under your dress, his fingers running over that soft, silky skin. His eyes are burning with hunger, the heat of the desert finally getting to him. The heat of his breath blowing across your body, breath mingling, your lips coming together in a hungry kiss.

꒦꒷⚔️꒷꒦

Everything's a blur, but you find yourself in the sheriff's station. Leonardo laughs a little at all that nonsense before pulling your head up enough for another kiss. He holds you by the ears, he smacks his hand harder on your ass with your tail twitching with every hit. Your dress bunched up around your waist as you bend over his desk, your legs spread wide apart, offering yourself to him completely.

The desk creaks under both of you, his lips on your neck as he rocks into you, your bodies meeting with a wet slapping sound. You're open for him. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through you, your mouth left hanging open, moans echoing throughout the room.

"Oh yeah, take that, darlin'!" He whispers, his voice thick with a low purr as he grabs on to your hips. "You're my good girl." He moves down to your ear, his lips nuzzling against it.

You moan, standing in your toes so he hits a better angle. You moan loudly as he hits that soft spot inside you. Your legs shake and you ball my fists in the part of your dress you could reach, you arms still cuffed. You feel his hand connect with your ass with a loud smack and you squeak, jolting at the sting. "Good girl," he breathes, his voice low and husky as he rocks into you harder, going a little faster. He bites on the side of your neck before whispering to you ear. "Such a good girl, darlin'.. you'll get it good.." He lets off a low hum to match the pace of his thrusts.

He brings his free hand down to your tail before giving it a light tug, laughing as you squirm and whine. "Aww, such a good, sweet thing," he sighs, his tone low and husky before biting on your neck again. "I love the way you take it so well, darlin'.. you're so good for me, such a sweet darlin'," he whispers to you, pulling you closer so he can kiss the side of your face.

He spanks you hard one final time before moving his hands over to tug on your ears, holding them tightly in his fists as he goes even harder and faster, his hips bucking aggressively to meet your thighs. "Such a good girl!" He whispers, his voice turning low and throaty as his eyes bore into yours. "Take it all, darlin'.. such a good girl!"

"C-Close, sir!" You whimper, tears falling down your cheeks. He tilts your head up to look at him, but makes sure to keep your body against the desk for him. It puts you into an uncomfortable arch.

Leonardo moans loudly, his expression turning more feral with every thrust as he rocks into you. His hips moving as forcefully as he could, he pushes harder and harder like he was trying to drive you through the desk, his free hand still holding onto your ears. Finally, his climax is about to peak and he lets out an, "Ahhhh… such a good girl, darlin'.."

At your releases, Leo lets out a groan and lets his thrusts die down a bit, pressing against your back with his chest as he slowly rocks into you. His face is buried deep into your neck, "Shhh... be a good girl.. be my good girl for me," he whispers to you, his voice low and husky. His free hand is playing with your tail, rubbing it up and down before giving it another tug for good measure and he slowly pulls out. "Such a good girl..." He murmurs, letting go of your ears and giving you a light tap on your ass.

[writingquestionsanswered]

I've got young kids, work full time, went back to school to get my degree and my spouse is also in a degree program. Finding the time to write feels impossible. There's no way I can write daily.

I feel like maybe my dream to be an author is out of reach. When should you really ask yourself if you truly want to be an author? Forget an author.. do you really want to be a writer? 

Author Dream Feels Out of Reach

You've come to the right place. ♥

First, I want to tell you that what you're feeling right now is totally normal. So, so many of us go through it. I promise you're in good company.

Second, I submit that this isn't really about whether or not you want to be a writer/author. You wouldn't be here if some part of you didn't want to be a writer/author... you wouldn't be reaching for a dream you didn't have...

Third, I further submit that rather than questioning your intentions, you may just need to consider what you want to get out of writing, what your goals would be as an author, and then create realistic goals to help you get there. That's where I come in...

1 - I'm here to tell you that you don't have to write every day. I spent a long, long, embarrassingly long time parroting back the traditional "advice" that one must write every single day in order to be a successful writer and reach your author dreams. Head, meet desk! In the intervening years, I've learned that writing every day simply isn't realistic for the vast majority of people. Why? Because we're not all independently wealthy bachelors who retired in our 40s, who spend our days fishing and our evenings partying with our eccentric creative friends, and then burning the midnight oil on our latest manuscript while we sip brandy and puff on a fine cigar. If only! (minus the cigar part... yuck...) Instead, we're members of family units, friend groups, and communities. We're parents and grandparents and guardians and caregivers. We're students, we have jobs and roles and responsibilities. We're anxious, tired, and stretched so unbelievably thin. The world is falling down around us. And it's... a lot...

2 - But... that's why we write... ALL OF THAT, I say, gesturing broadly at everything, is why we write. We write to tell the stories of the eccentric brandy-sipping writers, the stressed-out-stretched-thin-parents, the overworked-and-underpaid teachers, the exhausted caregivers who feel their dreams slipping between their fingers, and still hopeful dreamers who cling to the stars with the dust of the crumbling world in their eyes. We write to tell their stories, and we write to give them stories. We write because the world needs our stories. ALL of them. The good, the bad, the clean, the spicy, the angsty, the swoony, the cringey, the comforting, the excessively long, the absurdly short, the plainly written, the purple prosey... all of it matters. All of it serves a purpose.

3 - So, why did you start writing in the first place? You don't have to answer this for me, just for yourself... many of us would answer by saying things like, "because I have story ideas that demand to be written," or "because it's something I do for fun and escape, it's self-care," or "because I love to explore human stories." Getting to the heart of why you write, outside of any goals or future plans, can help ground you in the storm.

4 - What are your author goals? Now, if time, energy, and other considerations were no object... if you could spend as much time writing as you wanted and there were no obstacles to any author goal you had, and no limit to achieving your dreams, what would your author goals be? Do you want to share your stories on Wattpad or a similar platform? If so, do you have any goals related to views/reads/comments, and how often you hope to post a new story? If you want to pursue traditional publishing, are you happy being reasonably popular within your niche, or do you want to be a big time best-seller with your books made into movies? If you want to be an indie author, is there a certain number of books you want to get out each year? Is there a certain number of sales you want to hit for each book? A certain income level you want to aim for? Figuring out exactly what your goals are is important if you want to map a reasonable path toward getting there.

5 - What's a reasonable path to get there? Imagine "reasonable" lit up with lights here, because it's so, so important. Really, the biggest reason writers get overwhelmed and give up is because we have unreasonable expectations and are trying to meet arbitrary goals that sound great, but are just not possible to meet. If you can only muster maybe three hours to write on a good week, and you can write 26 words a minute on a good writing session, if your goal is to write 10,000 words per week, guess what... that's more than TWICE the number of words it's even possible for you to write in a good week, so you're going to fall far, far short most weeks. It's an unrealistic goal.

If you're averaging roughly 11,000 words per month and your goal is to write a novel in six months and have it revised, edited, and published (or revised, edited, and sent off with queries), guess what... your manuscript is sitting at 66,000 words at the six month mark without a single second for revision, editing, or anything else. Once again, it's an unrealistic goal.

One of the best ways to figure out a realistic goal is to take an honest look at your schedule. My favorite way to do this is by the month, using a calendar I can write on. Now, I'll go through and cross out all the days I know I won't be able to write... like, maybe I never write on Sundays because they're too busy, so I cross those off. Maybe I'm going on vacation for four days mid-month, and I know I won't write the day before or after, so I cross those six days off, too. My days tend to fall apart if I have an appointment or other unusual event, so I will usually block off those days as well. Finally, I know I will probably lose at least three days a month to not feeling well or having to attend to a family member who isn't feeling well, and another three days to run-of-the-mill nonsense, so I'll cross off the last six days in the calendar. What I'm left with is a reasonable estimate for the number of days I'll be able to write that month.

Now, let's say I'm left with 17 potential writing days. And let's say I'm fairly certain I'll be able to commit about twenty to thirty minutes to writing on each of those days. And... let's say I know I generally write about 26 words per minute during the average writing session. Twenty minutes across 17 days is 340 total minutes, times 26 wpm, nets me about 8,840 words for the month... and that's not frickin' bad! In fact, at that rate you could potentially have a first draft done in six to eight months! And that's in just twenty minutes a day three or four times a week.

It isn't about time spent, it's about setting reasonable goals.

If you create reasonable goals that you can actually meet, you start building forward momentum. You're not exhausted from fighting with your schedule and failing to squeeze writing in on days when it isn't possible. You're not beaten down from disappointing yourself over and over again. You're actually getting somewhere, and you're excited about it!

So, that's it. Before you get all philosophical about whether or not you really want to be an author or want to be a writer... before you start tossing your dreams out the window or feeling like your dreams are out of reach, try this. Be realistic. Be patient with yourself. Take support where you can get it. And don't be afraid to fiercely guard whatever writing time you do have.

I'm here for support, and there a million wonderful writing communities out there filled with other supportive writers if you have some time to look for them and spend some time getting to know them.

All the best! You've got this... TRULY! ♥

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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