#im not sure if his right eye was intact and just closed or if it was also completely gone bc that was a lot of blood

[mamawasatesttube]

we have got to get kon impaled in 7 different places again. as enrichment

[candy69gurl]

hiii 🤗🤗 im new to your blog, i know you write dark fiction i was wondering if youd be open to some fluff? Like soft sex with sukuna?

Infernal Passion

Heian Era Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

Warnings- 18+, slight non-con, loss of innocence, size kink (Sukuna in true form with 2 dicks, 4 arms and abdomen mouth), mentions of violence (Sukuna eats humans but gentle only with you), use of nicknames, belly buldge, pussy eating, fingering (Sukuna has nails), nipple playing, raw sex (cumming inside), breeding kink, mentions of lactation

wc - 2.4K

ART NOT MINE !

"—Oh, Uraume, bring the new offering to me." Sukuna grumbles, his voice low and menacing. "Tie her up securely and make sure she knows her place. I won't tolerate any resistance from her." He smirks cruelly, savouring the thought of what's to come.

Uraume enters the room, dragging you by the arm, your eyes wide with fear.

Uraume ties you to a wooden post, leaving you bound and vulnerable. Your eyes are filled with tears, and your breathing has turned shallow, each gasp echoing softly in the dimly lit room. The scent of blood and death hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the many who faced the same fate as you.

"Ah, such a delicate little thing." Sukuna's eyes rake over you, taking in every detail of your body. "I can already taste the fear in your blood. It's going to be a delightful meal." He reaches out, gently running a finger down your cheek, his touch cold and calculating. "Such a sweet dessert after a huge feast."

"P-please d-dont eat me.. I-I don't want to die.. I beg of you", you plead, your body already limb under his gaze.

Sukuna's eyes narrow, studying your pleading expression. "Very well, I shall spare you this time." He leans in closer, his breath warming against your skin. "But you have to give me something in return.

"What do you have to offer me?" Sukuna asks, his gaze intense. "You must give me something truly valuable to earn my mercy today." He steps back, crossing his arms, and waits for your response.

You are trembling against his piercing gaze, words stuck in your throat.

"Yes, yes, I can tell you're frightened," Sukuna says mockingly, "but I assure you, I am quite patient. What do you think would please me enough to forget your insignificant life?" He watches you closely, examining your trembling form and the fear etched upon your face. "Perhaps your body could provide some sort of entertainment... Tell me, have you ever served a man before? Or perhaps multiple men?"

Tears stream down your face as you desperately search for words. "N-no." You whisper, feeling the blush rise to your cheeks, "I am... pure, untouched." Your voice wavers, and you bite your lip nervously, hoping that your submission will be enough.

Sukuna's eyes gleam with interest as he studies your reaction. "Pure, are you? That could be intriguing." He takes a step closer, towering over you, his massive form looming over your tiny frame. "But I require more than just words, little one. Show me how much you value your life, and maybe I'll decide if it's worth keeping." He gestures Uraume towards his chamber, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Inside, you will find what I need. Fail me, and I will eat your heart and make you suffer until your last breath."

Uraume approaches you, their expression softening slightly as they untie the bonds restraining you. "Fear not, dear one. Lord Sukuna requires your purity intact." They whisper gently, helping you stand and guiding you towards the chamber, "We shall prepare you for his pleasure."

Within the chamber, a warm bath steams gently, and a pristine robe is laid out on a nearby stool. Uraume helps you undress and step into the water, washing away the dirt and fear clinging to your body. Their gentle hands work over your tense muscles, and their movements are confident and practiced.

As you relax in the warm water, Uraume carefully dries you off and helps you into the robe, adjusting the fabric to fall just right over your slender form. "You are ready now, dear one." Uraume's voice is calm and soothing, and their eyes never leave you. "Remember, you must please Lord Sukuna if you wish to live." They lead you back to the main room, where Sukuna awaits, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Well, well," Sukuna drawls, his gaze raking over your body. "Look at you, all cleaned up and ready for my pleasure." He runs a hand through his hair, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Sukuna motions for you to approach the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as you move cautiously towards him. With a single swift motion, he removes your robe, revealing your innocence and vulnerability to him. "Ah, so tempting."

"You are merely a morsel in comparison to my size and strength, yet your innocence and fragility only add to your allure." Sukuna growls, his massive hands tracing gently down your slender frame. "And here I thought your kind were all tough and unyielding, but you are anything but. You're soft, delicate, and, oh, so delectable." As he speaks, he pulls you closer, your bodies pressing intimately together.

His grip tightens, pulling you even closer, his erection pressing against your belly. "Your innocence is intoxicating, little one." He bends down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. You taste fear and surrender, which only fuels his desire further. His fingers trail down to where your legs meet, hesitating for a moment before pushing on your legs.

Your eyes fail to meet his, a tender blush filling your cheeks.

"Such shyness is adorable." But you'll learn quickly that there is no escape from my desires." His red eyes devouring your innocence.

With that, he sinks to his knees, his tongue flicking out to taste your essence.

The great Ryomen Sukuna on his knees for a mere human like you, you think.

Your thighs shake, his tongue is huge, one slide is enough to cover your whole womanhood. He savours your shock and fear, letting them mingle with the sweet flavour of your arousal. "So good; you taste better than raw blood." He murmurs, licking and sucking at your tender flesh, driving you wild with both pleasure and terror.

You squirm and whimper against his tongue. "Ah, so sensitive." Sukuna growls, his tongue darting out to catch the droplets of your arousal. "You're going to make me lose control, little one."

Sukuna's eyes widen in surprise at your sensitivity, his tongue lapping up the flood of wetness that cascaded onto his face. This is unlike any human he has encountered before. He cannot remember experiencing such sensitivity from others. It makes him thirsty for more, for your submission and pleasure.

Your mewls and whimpers turn him on further. "Such sweet sounds. You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Sukuna's voice is thick with lust, and his tongue never ceases its relentless assault on your sensitive core. He thrusts two thick fingers inside you, stretching your tight walls as you squirm beneath him, his nails brushing your walls drawing out moans from you, his cock throbbing in anticipation.

"A-ah, too much, Lord."

Sukuna groans low in his throat, fighting the urge to claim you right then and there. "If you can't handle that, how will you take my full length inside you?" He asks rhetorically, his fingers working in and out of you, stretching your wet heat in preparation.

Slowly, he eases himself free from his robes, his two massive members standing proud and eager. He positions himself at your entrance, taking a moment to let you feel the weight of his manhood pressing against your delicate folds. "Ready to accept what you owe me, little one?" A cruel smirk curves his lips, knowing you have no choice but to submit.

"Are you going to put both of them inside me?" You are terrified at the thought of his two lengths invading you.

"Don't worry, I won't," Sukuna responds, even though he wanted to push both his dicks inside you, the thought of your tender body feeling pain from it made him rebuff his thoughts. He gently guides his upper dick to your entrance.

Your thoughts are a mix of terror and confusion. You never imagined yourself in such a position—being taken by a powerful demon who holds your life in his hands. Yet, as he slowly pushes into you, the unfamiliar sensation overwhelms you. You cannot help but wonder if this is how your end comes, consumed by this beast. But strangely, your body responds to him, arching into his touch, craving more even

You couldn't believe it. A creature of such immense power and cruelty is gentle with you. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, almost tender. It's a stark contrast to the fear and violence that defined your encounter thus far. As he moves within you, you feel a strange mix of emotions—fear, yes, but also a strange sense of safety. It's an odd sensation to be at the mercy of a monster yet feel protected.

As he continues his slow, gentle thrusts, you can't help but wonder,

Was he capable of more than just cruelty and violence? Or was this just another part of his twisted game, designed to confuse and disorient you before claiming you completely?

"Feeling good, little bird?", he coos.

"Y-yes lord."

"Just for you, little bird. I'll be as gentle as silk." Sukuna whispers, his pace slowing down even further. His two hands hold your legs, and the third one strokes his ignored dick, a strange tongue formed from his hand slides against it. His fourth hand slides down to stroke your clit. The sudden burst of pleasure elicits a gasp from you.

"It feels so good, Lord Sukuna."

"Good. Enjoy it while you can." His thumb circles your clit, tongue formed from his hand occasionally lapping at it making your body flinch, taunting you with orgasm and drawing it out until your core is begging for release.

"Please, I am going to release, my lord", you eyes pleading him to let you release.

"I know.." Sukuna's breath hitches,"I've never been so careful with anyone, especially a mere mortal." His voice dripped with arrogance.

His two shafts pulsated, straining for release.

He hisses at your tightness as you squeeze his dick, creaming it white. Your moans echo through the room.

"Ah, so sweet, hmph,"  he purrs.

Without missing a beat, Sukuna switches the shaft currently inside you with the one he was stroking. He leans down and takes the newly freed member into his abdominal mouth. The sight of his shaft being devoured by his cursed abdomen sends shivers down your spine.

Sukuna seems to notice the direction of your gaze."They both want to be in you, sweetheart. Perhaps not today... I shall claim you with one of my dicks only."

"Love you..," your tone barely audible.

"Love me?" Sukuna's eyes narrow, his brow furrowing. This affection was unexpected, especially from someone he was about to devour a while ago. Yet, there is something intriguing about it. "Love? What do you know of love, little bird?"

He continues to move inside you, his pace increasing ever so slightly. Each thrust is deeper and harder than the last.

"I just know you are never going to hurt me. That's enough for me to love you."

Sukuna laughs cruelly, his hips moving faster now. His laughter echoes in the room, filled with both scorn and amusement. "Oh, how naïve you are. Perhaps I will love you back on one condition."

Your stomach bulges with each thrust, revealing a glimpse of his massive member. It moves in and out of you, leaving behind a trail of pleasure and pain.

With every thrust, your cheeks redden, and your eyes lock onto his.

"Will you be able to bear my child?"

You bite your already swollen lips, thinking your future with the curse king.

"Answer me!" Sukuna roars, slamming into you harder; his need for confirmation is overwhelming.

You swallow hard, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Yes! Yes, Lord Sukuna! I'll bear your child!"

"Good. You deserve my love then." Sukuna kisses your neck, then his tongue slides down your sternum to your breasts, his shaft disappearing entirely before re-emerging from between your legs.

"You'll bear my child, and you'll remember me every time you look at them. You'll remember your lord." Each word carries the weight of ownership, sealing your fate.

His eyes gleam with anticipation, imagining the sight of your breasts swelling with milk. The thought sends a shiver down his spine.

"Imagine it, your nipples engorged, milk from them flowing freely. Yes, that would be lovely." His grip tightens on her hip, his thrusts becoming deeper and more possessive. His mouth sucks on your nipples while one of his hands pinches your nipples, thinking about how they would look, swollen and ready to feed his future kids. With each squeeze and suckle, you whimper, your body writhing beneath him. This is a future you never expected, but somehow, it excites you more than terrifies you.

His thrusts grow longer and slower, each one filled with possession and dominance. His mouth moves from one breast to the next, licking and sucking while his hand plays with the other.

"So close, are we?" His voice was low and seductive, promising pleasure and pain.

"Please, Lord, fill me. Fill me with your seed," you speak out the words you never imagined, you will say.

"So desperate, already? You beg well, sweetheart." Sukuna chuckles, his hips pumping faster. His breathing's ragged, and his gaze fixed on your face. "Are you sure you want this?"

Your lips swollen and red from biting as you let go of your moans while you orgasm again.

He does not wait for an answer, instead driving deep into you and filling you completely. His hot seed spills into your womb, marking you forever. His other dick squirts, landing on your chest and tummy. His eyes darken, and his entire body becomes tense.

"Now, you carry a piece of me. Forever bound to me."

Once spent, he collapses onto her, his breath ragged. His mouth found the curve of her neck, licking gently. "We have a deal, little bird. You bear my children, and I'll protect you. Our bond is sealed now."

"Look at you," Sukuna murmurs, pushing himself off your body. Standing up, he steps back to survey his art.

The mess is undeniable—your chest and belly covered in his seed, your thighs wet with evidence of their coupling.

His finger circles around your nipple, sending shockwaves through your body.

"How messy and used you look right now. Covered head to toe in my filth. I've claimed you and marked my territory for you. No one will dare touch you again. I'll leave you here to rest, my queen. When morning comes, Uraume will take care of you."

"I love you, my queen,"  he says, kissing your temple, letting you drift into the kingdom of dreams, where you are taking care of lord sukuna's kids.

[lavendermunson]

burning desire - eddie munson

summary Bad luck follows you everywhere, but thank god you have professor Eddie to make your days better even if it's a halloween party.

tags +18 professor!Eddie, older!Eddie, age gap (Eddie is in his late 30's and reader is on her early 20s) everything is consensual. mutual pinning, alcohol, reader gets a cut from a glass on the floor but nothing to worry about. no use of y/n. MINORS DNI PLEASE, spanking, fingering, daddy kink, cum eating, orgasm denial if you squint. slight dom!Eddie, sub and virgin afab!reader. size kink. if i missed anything tell me

w.c 3.2k

a/n yes i spiraled, yes im projecting because i got reader the same costume i had and yes i went nuts enjoy!

You’ve finally stopped making a fool of yourself in front of him.

The first embarrassing incident happened when you smacked your arm against the classroom door because you were too distracted looking at him, waving your hand goodbye. Little did you know that the door would slam into your arm, courtesy of some basketball jock making a speedy escape to join his friends.

On that day a little whimper escaped from your lips, immediately grabbing his attention. He’d been watching you closely since the start of the semester, always finding excuses for you to stay after class, just to be close to you and look at you, admiring your features and getting lost in your cleavage. That time was the perfect opportunity for him to finally touch you.

“Oh… no, c’mere,” he said with a softness in his voice that he always uses when he talks to you. You got closer, allowing him to take your arm with his large, warm hand and gently massage the pain away trying to comfort you. “I’ll make sure that guy fails his final, don’t worry” he reassured with a wink, causing your hands to nervously fall into your lap as both of you leaned on the wood of his desk.

The attention from him felt good, and well, he was so handsome. Even if he did have a couple of years on you, he possessed a boyish look, his youthful charm was intact, and his curly hair glows every day you see him. And those rings adorning his fingers, his ring finger still missing one, you always knew he was single, all the other teachers always tried to flirt with him in the hallways.

“No, it’s my fault. I got distracted” you whispered. As if you were doing something wrong, he is only here to help.

His brows meet at the center of his face, a frown showing on his forehead.

“Don’t blame yourself, it’s not your fault sweetheart” His fingers slid from your arm to your hands, he took your hands with his. A tingling sensation ran up your thighs as his fingers brushed against the exposed skin beneath your skirt. “There you go, feeling better?”

All you could manage to do was nod, pulling away. Your mind was racing with impure thoughts, and your cheeks were growing warmer and warmer each time. 

“Yes, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow”

“Be careful!” he says, with his gaze still glued at you.

That’s how you left his classroom that day, and the next day, you decided to skip his class. It was too much for you, even if it felt so good and it was so wrong, so unprofessional from both sides as the sexual tension grew each time you two talked.

The second time you show your clumsy self is at the library, you are searching for books to prepare for an essay. Suddenly a book fell and landed just right on your head.

“Ouch,” you muttered, dropping to your knees to pick up the book. But as you reached for it, you heard a chuckle.

“Sweetheart, what happened this time?” His grin was even bigger than the last time, his hands resting on his pockets only showing his big watch on his wrist. It’s shiny, expensive, and squeezed around so perfectly matching his imposing figure. “I did warn you to be more careful”

You looked up, meeting his beautiful brown eyes. You felt a blush wash over your face, head resting on your pretty pink cheeks. He was so close, his scent hugging you in an instant.

“You look so, so pretty on your knees”

That was all it took. You swallowed hard, your core aching, desperately looking for a place to sit to relieve the tension.

“It’s like I always come to rescue you. Not that I don’t love it but you have to agree, I have a sixth sense when it comes to you”

He picked up the book and handed it to you. You took it, still on the floor with barely any space between you and Eddie. He extended a hand to help you up, and as you got up, he wrapped his arm around your wrist, pulling you closer. 

“Thank you, Mr. Munson,” you can only get lost in his big brown eyes, you glance at his lips and back to lock your gaze on his. 

“How many times have I told you to call me Eddie?”

“I-it feels wrong” you replied, frozen in your place. Your shoulders are too tense and your breath growing quicker.

“It’s not wrong, especially when it feels so good” He turned you around, his hand that had rested on your waist now on your shoulder, along with his other hand pushing your hair out of the way. Getting a look at your neck, and your sweet vanilla perfume makes him relax. “I hope to see you tomorrow. Don’t you dare skip my class again,” he whispered in your ear, trailing his fingers along your neck before fixing the strap of your dress that fell off your shoulder and walking away. Leaving with a teasing smile you only noticed when you turned around quickly.

And that brings you to the third time, not expecting what your night would look like but definitely thanking your clumsiness for it.

You had arrived at a massive Halloween party in a house borrowed by your friend’s boyfriend for the night, while his sister was away on her honeymoon. She must be having the best time of her life at the same time her home is invaded by college drunks and some people from the neighborhood, looking for someplace to ruin on this spooky night.

People were dancing, drinking, playing, and kissing. There were some people at the pool and the house was a mess. Broken alcohol bottles are broken everywhere, and your shiny red shoes stomp on them to crush them even more.

Of course, you had chosen to wear a sexy outfit, embodying none other than Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. You had a short, sexy bly and white plaid dress, with a fluffy white skirt underneath for added volume. Your ponytails sat on your shoulders, adorned with red lace. 

The alcohol in your veins gave you a boost of confidence as you danced and attracted the attention of guys. Your mind was no longer fixated on Eddie, and you were enjoying the distractions. 

However, the spinning on the dance floor left you feeling dizzy, and you eventually looked for a place to sit down on the stairs. When your leg brushed against the stairs a piece of glass left a scratch, and you cursed under your breath. The pain shot through you, and a tear of frustration rolled down your cheek.

Trying to find a bathroom available to clean yourself up, your head started to hurt. A tear of desperation runs down your cheek and as the hosts scream at everyone to get outside for a drinking contest by the pool, the first floor of the house seems to be empty.

You get annoyed, trying to find a drink when someone gets closer to you. He is dressed as Zorro with a mask and a hat that hides his face, but if you weren’t too obsessed with him you might’ve thought he was a stranger.

“Sweetheart, what happened now?”

He looks at your pouty lips. His fingers gently touch your chin. 

“I, uh, cut my leg, and it kind of hurts. Everyone is busy fucking, so I couldn’t find a room or a bathroom to clean it and…“ You slur your words, desperation showing in the way you try to keep yourself together.

“I have a first aid kit at my place. Let me take care of you”

He notices the pout on your lips that never seemed to fade and takes your hand, squeezing it to give you comfort. “My place is just across the street. Come with me.”

“You live in one of these huge houses all by yourself?”

He chuckles, a grin showing on his lips. Half of his face still remains covered “Yes, but tonight, I won’t be alone”

You follow him, crossing the street and entering his house. The alcohol has now left your body and you become aware of your surroundings. Yet, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable, it still feels wrong but his house hugs you welcome like a warm hug. You go up to his room and stay there, close to his bed while he goes to the bathroom to find the first aid kit.

When he returns, his hat and mask are missing. Letting his face show all his glory… and that grin he always has when you are around. Your hands shake, you get nervous because of him, and you know that if he touches you again, you won’t be able to walk away from him.

He sits on his bed and gestures for you to come closer. Your mind instantly tells you to sit as close as possible to him.

“I can’t see your cut like that, lay on me and I’ll help you”

You obey. Because it’s so easy and so exciting to follow his voice. You lay on top of his lap, your cheek touching his sheets as you feel his thighs under you. You try to relax your body even when lust washes over you.

“May I start touching you now? He asks. “To get this cut clean and put a band-aid”

You nodded. “You… yes, do what you need to do Eddie ” And you only hope he takes it as a yes, touch me all you want. Not even your filthiest dreams could make this scenario possible.

He laughs, taking it as an invitation to touch you however he pleases. Noticing you took his word and called him by his first name, finally.

“Don’t move, I’ll be gentle with you”

He is. His fingers grazed your leg as he cleaned the cut an inch below your ass, so there was no need to adjust your dress. The cold sensation of the alcohol-soaked gauze makes you jump a little, and you close your eyes, letting out a soft whimper.

“Sorry, sorry. Almost finished” He says, continuing to clean the cut, listening to your honey-covered whimpers. “Sweetheart, I told you to be more careful, but I'd hate it if anyone else took care of you but me. I told you I have a sixth sense”

“You do… thank you” you reply, your voice muffled. Trying to keep the side of your head pressed against his sheets, looking for the cold parts to ease your flushed face and the heat that stayed on it.

“I’m done,” he says, after placing a band-aid on the cut and giving your leg a soft squeeze.

“Can I stay like this for a moment?” you ask, not wanting him to see your flushed cheeks. You feel comfortable around him, especially when he starts to take care of you.

“Absolutely, anything you want”

He continues to caress your legs, inching closer and closer to your ass. His cold rings send shivers through your body, and the ache between your legs doesn’t seem to fade away.

“I saw you dancing with those guys. I have to admit I got jealous” he confessed.

“Did you?” you ask.

“Yes. I think about you all the time, it doesn’t help when you get close to me and I have to control myself” Somehow the room feels hotter, the side of his sheets where you rest didn’t cool down. “I should be the one dancing with my body pressed to you”

“I-I like it when you get close to me. Just you.” your voice becomes softer, while you feel out of breath. You can’t help but feel needy, his hands on your legs torture you in a sweet way. “Yes. I’m sorry”

“Oh? you feel sorry. Sweetheart, maybe you need to learn a lesson so that can’t happen again”

“Yes. Maybe I need to be punished” Your heart beats faster this time, hoping you didn’t kill the mood and he feels the same way about you.

Eddie’s lips form the widest grin he’s ever had. “I think you do”

One of his hands moves your dress away to reveal your ass. Your pretty pink cotton panties rest on you, and he swears he is in heaven. His other hand comes to rest in your ass and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I need you to count baby. If you miss a number I’ll start over... Can you do that f'me”

His voice grows sexier, and your excitement makes you sigh, letting all the air trapped in your lungs. The nerves go away, your body yearns for his touch now more than ever.

“Yes, yes I can. I’ll be good”

His hand leaves your ass, and you miss the warmth of his touch. He takes a few seconds after smacking his hands against your skin. It doesn’t hurt, but it stung in a way that felt so good. 

“I didn't hear you, sweetheart”

You shake your head, regaining focus. The wetness pooling between your legs. “One” you mutter, your fingers graze his soft sheets.

“Good, good girl”

He smacks your buttcheek again “Two” then, “Three” By the time it comes to five, you can’t hold back a moan and Eddie’s cock twitches on his pants.

“Let me hear those pretty sounds, don’t hide them from me, baby”

“Six.. seven… eight” you breathe out, shutting your eyes as the burning feeling grows.

“I think that’s enough. You’ve learned” His fingers caress the pink mark on your skin, a handprint slowly inked on it. “You okay?”

You nod. Eddie’s fingers travel up to your waist, helping you twist your body so you can sit on his lap. Your gaze locks on his, he takes your jaw over his big hand, slowly rubbing your cheek.

“Can I kiss you? Please” you say, eyes glassy from before. He couldn’t help but melt, you looked so adorable and he didn’t want this night to end.

“Sweet, pretty and polite. You are such a dream, baby”

He kisses you, one of his hands now resting on the small of your back to hold you in place, and his other hand finds your thighs. Your lips are as soft as he imagined, your cherry chapstick mixed with the taste of beer sent tingles to his hard cock. 

“Can I?” he whispers over your lips as he motions his head to your legs waiting for your consent.

“Please” you whine.

“Use your words, sweetheart” he waits for your answer, his heart thumps faster than ever.

“Touch me, touch me, daddy, please please”

He takes his nickname as a surprise, something he has never been called before but felt so good.

“You look so cute when you beg, good girl”

His fingers easily open your legs after you were clenching around nothing, rubbing your thighs to search for some kind of relief. His fingers get close to your core, you moan as he touches the wet patch between your legs and bites your bottom lip in the middle of the kiss.

“Touch me, touch me” you cry, he knows you are already so putty on his arms and wants to tease a little bit more.

“Someone is needy,” he chuckles. “Easy, easy baby”

His hands travel up to get the waistband of your panties, ripping them apart with his strong hand. The elastic bumps against your skin and once they are broken they fall to the floor. You moan again, clenching around nothing and begging him to touch you.

“Have you ever…”

“No” you shake your head, your lips forming a pout.

“Do you want to? Trust me, I'm going to take care of you. I always do”

“I trust you” you whine, begging him to do something about it. “I want to”

His hand comes to your pussy. He collects your wetness with his fingers and goes up up up until he reaches your clit. He applies pressure on it and you close your eyes, his middle finger massaging your little bundle of nerves getting more breathy moans from you. 

“How does that feel?” he asks, knowing your head is all over the place as your body fills with pleasure.

“Good… I need more” you manage to whisper, begging for something more to ease the burning feeling in your core. “Please, daddy”

He replaces his index finger with his thumb, and then his point fingers massage and tease your hole as you bite your lip in anticipation. He feels you relax on his arm and can no longer hold you, he moves your body so your back gets pressed against his chest. Your ass touches his hardened cock and you rock your hips involuntarily with two fingers already inside you.

“Pretty baby, so wet for me”

Eddie tempts the skin on your neck leaving wet kisses. He tastes your perfume and your sweat all mixed together, he moans against your skin and decides to suck on the delicate skin knowing that it’s going to leave a mark.

“There, so anyone can see who you belong to. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, yes. Mark me please”

He continues to nibble on your skin while his digits feel softer as he pulls in and out of you, you chant his name like a prayer and can feel your back aching. Missing the pressing on his chest, he focuses on the way you rub against his dick.

“You look so fucking hot, taking my fingers so well baby”

His praise only gets you even more wet. You clench around his fingers and he decides to add a third one.

“Stretching out so nicely, baby. Can’t wait for you to feel my cock, I don’t think it will fit right away”

You imagine his big cock as the third digit bumps into your walls, he curls his fingers inside you hitting the right spot.

“Daddy, please… I’m need to-”

“I know baby, you need to cum but hold it for me. You can do it, you are doing it so well sweetheart”

Eddie quickened his pace, no longer being gentle with your pussy. He moves his fingers in and out faster, the massage on your clit as his thumb presses slightly harder against it.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy. Let me cum please please please- Oh” you feel your legs tremble, your tummy can hold it anymore but you try so hard. Eddie notices the change in your voice.

“Okay, baby, cum now. Make a mess on my fingers, soak them, baby”

You cum hard, the first time doing it and you can’t seem to stop. Eddie keeps his hands glued to you, he feels your cum soak his fingers as he pulls them out, he moans at the sight of the mess you made. A wave of hot air hits your cheeks, his thumb rubbing your clit as you come back from your climax.

“That felt so good” you turn your body to face him, his fingers resting on his tongue as he sucks his fingers clean and moans at the sweet taste of you. You bite your lip, noticing his lips covered in your juices along with his spit.

“You did so good, and good girls get a reward” 

“I want one. I need you, don’t let me go” you beg.

“Oh baby, I'm never letting you go” 

He kisses you again, carrying you over to the top of his bed. Your back hits the sheets and he climbs over you.

“I got you, baby, I got you”

my kinktober piece for you i hope you love it, feedback is appreciated! don't forget to REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! ♡

[afyrian]

HII CONGRATS IM A NEW FOLLOWER!!

can I request 🌾☁️ for Shoyo? (Make sure you take care of yourself or I’ll find you 🫶🏾)

a (crush)ed drink shoyo hinata x fem!reader (fluff) m.list | wc: 656 | prompt: timeskip + 'mmh so the weather's nice'

    biting your nail, you stand by the front door, staring at your phone. the little bicycle's icon moving throughout the app, getting closer and closer to your apartment building. going to a restaurant and ordering with what poor portuguese that you have sends your blood pressure soaring. so you've found yourself ordering more food than necessary, just to avoid those moments.

  pacing quietly, you reload the page, practicing your basic portuguese vocabulary. muito obrigada echoes through your head, little whispers coming from your lips as you practice the pronunciation. "uh- cheiro está deliciosa.." it doesn't sound quite right as it leaves your mouth, sounding better in your head.

  looking back at your phone, you notice that the bike icon has arrived at your building. a little sentence at the bottom stating that he's in the building and delivering it. shaking your hands, you let out a sigh, closing your eyes and letting the cool air of your apartment relax you. 

  your heartbeat slows until you hear someone out in the hallway, apologizing in broken portuguese. realizing it's likely your delivery man, you shove your phone into your pocket, awaiting the knock on the door. one second.. two seconds.. time slows as a rhythmic knock resonates in the room. putting on a brave face, you unlock the door and twist the handle until it's open.

  there stands an orange-haired man holding a bag of food in one hand and a crushed cup in the other, "i'm- uh disculpe. you're bebida... esmagado."

  between the broken portuguese, you can hear what you believe to be eastern japanese. a sort of country twang in his voice. a sense of peace washes over you, "wait, i'm sorry, do you know japanese?"

  immediately it's like a light bulb has gone off, an epiphany resting between his ears. his eyes light up like you’ve never seen in a person before, a large sigh leaving his shorter stature. “yeah! i am! oh wow, i can explain this better then! it’s really sunny right now and i had my sunglasses off for a second.. just a second. and it got right into my eyes where i then fell over,” your delivery driver purses his lips, holding out the bag of food that is still intact.

  “mmh so the weather’s nice then? okay, it’s okay! really, i was just practicing ‘muito obrigada’ over and over, so the good and bad surprises equal out,” your free hand grabs the bag from his, your other hand preoccupied with playing with the hems of your shorts. 

  he gives you a warm smile as you take it, your hands briefly grazing each other, “i actually took this job in hopes of learning more portuguese! it is definitely helping, when the order delivering is easy..”

  “actually!” your delivery driver pulls out his phone, ignoring the slight amount of awkward tension in the air, “i can give you my number and we can learn together!”

  maybe he’s more used to the extroverted attitude of the people who surround him, but you immediately notice your palms sweating. the thought of getting to know someone new in a country that you’re still uncertain in makes you feel nervous. however, you can’t help but feel the energy he exudes, the warmth that radiates from him.

  “well shouldn’t i know your name first? you do know mine, from the app,” you bite your lip, holding back the playful smile that wants to appear.

  something about him sends a spark within you, heat traveling throughout your body. you don’t know what to call it, a crush? an infatuation with a man who has the attitude for the ages. “it’s hinata, hinata shoyo! it’s a pleasure to formally meet you!” he holds out his phone, number written across the screen.

  you smile genuinely this time, unable to hold it back any longer, “well, nice to formally meet you hinata, i’d love to learn portuguese with you!”

a/n: thank you for requesting anon!! i loved doing this <33 i did end up taking a very short break but it was great, also if the portuguese sucks i’m so sorry

[h2llish]

⁀➷ ˖ spooky, scary, probably

notes ─── happy halloween i guess. i was hit by a wave of inspiration and wrote this in like an hour.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR | VIL SCHOENHEIT ─ you want to really lean into the "spooky" of spooky season.

warnings ☆ fluff? (or perhaps crack? it's silly and short), read platonic or romantic, gender neutral, lowercase intended, reader may or may not be yuu

"hey, can you help me with something?"

leona would often times tell you to get lost, to leave him alone and let him sleep. but after peeking an eye open to look at you, that wasn't what came out of his mouth ─ "what are you wearing?"

"it's my costume." you answered simply, glancing down at the clothes that look like you took a pair of scissors and tore at it until it looked shredded and unwearable. (and that's exactly what you did, sort of; it was already old and worn, you just made it even more so with a few extra aggressive tears.)

leona sent you a questioning look, lips curled up in a mamner you knew meant he was judging you, but you weren't all that bothered. "what are you supposed to be?" ─ he didn't let you answer as he sat up and examined you from where you stood at his door, following up the question with another ─ "and what is on your face?"

you knew he was talking about the makeup made to look like gauges and blotches in your face to really sell your role in your costume. it was well done too, you had gotten help from someone you deemed an expert beforehand. it took a while before you made a decison on the look, but in the end, you were happy with the results.

you stared at leona for a moment, waiting to see if he'd ask anything more, and then you answered, "i'm like a zombie. and it's makeup. vil helped me. he's pretty good at it, actually."

leona stared at you, more bemused as he eyed your diy costume from head to toe, "you look ridiculous."

"i look great," you corrected him, as if that's really what he meant, "you think it'll scare people? i was hoping to spook the others, or at least some of them."

leona scoffed, but chose not to comment on your decision to scare your peers as he referred to the reason you came to see him, "what do you want?"

"oh, right," you held up a decently sized bottle of red, what looked like, paint. "i need you to help cover me im this fake blood."

"i take it back, you're ridiculous."

"rude. so yes or no?"

"fine. but not in here."

vil has learned that when you set your mind to things ─ ridiculous as they may be ─ you tried hard to fulfill them. sometimes you failed but, then there times you went through with them, completed your self-given mission.

he was used to hearing about these ideas you just had to go through with (your words). ─ like right now.

"so skeletons are scary right?"

vil glanced at you as you took a seat beside him on the bench, looking to be deep in thought. (and he had to stop himself from sighing.)

"what?" he asked, closing the script he was reading (one written by you for his film research club) with his thumb in between the pages.

"skeletons," you repeated, "they're common for halloween because they're scary, right?"

a rhetorical question, he realized ─ but he answered anyway. "yes. that's right."

you nodded thoughtfully and hummed, bringing a hand to your chin and going silent. vil prepared himself for anything you might say ─ and he knew it would likely be ridiculous, because that's what your ideas often were; ridiculous and lacking sense, but nonetheless, in a way, thought through.

"what about, if it was the muscles?"

"the," he paused, "the muscles?" ─ he asked, as if to be sure he heard you right.

"yeah," you nodded, your face showing just how serious you were in your words, and vil wondered just where you were going with this. "like skeletons are pretty scary. but what if, say, you suddenly just see fully intact human muscles coming towards you. wouldn't that freak you out?"

vil asks himself often where you come to think of such things, and yet, he still does not know. ─ "well, i suppose it would."

you nodded again, "i think i could make it work. with a little help from magic and makeup, i'm sure i could pull off a convincing costume."

of course that's where this was going ─ you were going to dress up as the muscles in the human body, just like one would when dressing up as a skeleton.

"you think you could help me?"

vil sighed, "alright."

─ it's never a dull moment with you, he thinks.

do not repost, translate, copy, or run my writing through ai.

[h3avymachin3ry]

Hello! I really enjoy your writing. Can I request a rocket x healer reader but somehow pretty chaotic and matches his energy?

⋆·˚ ༘ *⚠️💥STRAIGHT TO MY HEART-!

rocket x chaotic! healer! reader (gn)

tysm anon! im glad you like my writing 🫶 also i spent a little bit trying to make up an ability and gear for reader, so yeah!! enjoy!

(edit: i'm so sorry i do not know how to write chaotic characters. i hope i did decent or at least mediocre.)

You're a support phighter who had just joined the program, with your gear being healing potions.

And oh, you're dating one of the other phighters, Rocket!

You and Rocket, quite the duo!

"Rocket! You've gotta stop blowing yourself up!" You yell, hurling a healing potion at him. It shatters on impact, the shards discintegrating into thin air.

"Yeah, but it's efficient! And my limbs are intact!" He replies, as he launches himself in the air.

You sigh dramatically, pulling out more potions from your stash to pelt at the other phighters on your team.

"Chucking potions, huh? Quite the method there!" Valk, one of the announcers states, voice ringing throughout the stadium.

After you exit the locker rooms, Rocket comes running up to you.

"Baby! You did amazing! It was so funny when you threw a potion at Sling, and it went like- KABOOM!" He says, using his hands to mimic an explosion.

"I know, right?!" You exclaim with a giggle, throwing your hands in the air victoriously.

"You wanna get ice cream to celebrate?"

"HELL YEAH!" You cheer, sprinting towards the ice cream shop you two frequented.

"They sure are a pair, huh?" Sword states in amusement, watching Rocket chase after you.

You were also.. a prankster. A menace, as your unsuspecting victims would call you.

"...So is there a reason why shuriken is currently speedwalking towards us with a murderous glint in his eyes?" Rocket asks.

"Oh-! I almost forgot about that!"

"About wha-"

He's cut off abruptly by Shuriken, clearly annoyed.

"It was you, wasn't it!" He pulled out a hunk of about 6 shurikens, all glued together.

There's a short pause, before both you and Rocket burst out in a giggling fit.

Well, you help him unstick all his shurikens. You're not heartless, after all.

But you still feel that tinge of satisfaction watching Shuriken walk away with an embarassed huff, mumbling something under his breath.

Because of this, Zuka didn't like you at first.

You were loud, and he viewed you as annoying for quite a while.

That is, until he saw you and his son, out on a date.

Rocket looked so.. happy. So at peace.

"Honey, you have something on your cheek!"

Before you had any time to react, he quickly kissed your cheek. He used his free hand to reach for your ice cream, snatching it as he giggled nonstop.

"HEY-! C'mere, you!" You pull him close, planting a kiss on his lips. As you pull back from the kiss, you laugh at his flustered expression.

Zuka smiled slightly, seeing you both so happy.

"You have no idea how happy you make me, starlight. ♡"

holy moly this got long. also tysm to @krumbone for beta reading 🫶

[dirtysvthoughts]

𝓟 𝓡 𝓘 𝓥 𝓐 𝓣 𝓔 𝓓 𝓐 𝓝 𝓒 𝓔 𝓡 - CHAPTER THREE

pairing: prospective club owner! joshua x stripper! reader

word count: 2.2k

general tags/warnings: smut, pwp, worldbuilding before the dirty stuff (be patient 😉), female! reader, mildly cocky! shua, dom! shua, power play/brat! reader, full nudity for reader, use of pet names (love, baby, sweetheart), shua tries to get reader to fall for him but to no avail (or yes avail?)

playlist songs: special affair - the internet, give me head - sweet the kid, na na - trey songz

notes: chapter 3 baybeeeee! sorry this took so long, but it’s finally here! i’m gonna start working on chapter 4 and that should be done vv soon! hope you enjoy besties!

taglist: @im-gemmy @enhacolor @hooniewnderland @svtup @kawaiikels @weeevrse @diorsfxck @kyexvly @woozarts @ifuckcheol @marsstarxhwa @haoxiaoba

“and i’m telling you, i don’t need any help, take your service elsewhere,” your boss, mia, says over the phone, curtly hanging it up afterwards. “fucking nuisance,” she mumbles under her breath as you enter her office.

“somethin’ happen?” you say as you shut the door behind you, away from prying eyes and listening ears.

“shouldn’t you be getting ready, sage?” mia says not even looking in your direction, fiddling with whatever paperwork is in front of her.

you roll your eyes, “it’s 5 PM, i only came here early to practice my new routine. plus, i needed to ask you something, but then i overheard you. you know i’m one of the few people you actually trust here. so seriously, what was that all about?”

she stops messing with the papers and finally directs her eyes towards you, breathing a heavy sigh. “okay, so you know the club has a few more debt payments before i can solely own this place right? well, this man i was on the phone with can more than likely wipe away the rest of the debt with a snap of a finger.”

“so if he can do that, why would you tell him to fuck off? i don’t get it.”

“because he wants to own majority of the business! all of the creative decisions, finances, even down to the dancers’ employment would be his decision. i’m not doing that! i’ve worked way too hard to get to where illusion is today. and do you know how many strip club owners are women? not a whole lot. this is my pride.”

you both sit in a minute of silence, her words repeating in your mind. she was right, so much went into this club and those who weren’t on the pole proved that a club could run without a man’s help or approval. and you knew your boss wasn’t desperate enough to give in just yet.

“well no one but you is gonna run club illusion. fuck another owner or a co-owner,” you firmly say as mia shakes her head and smiles, now directing her attention at her desktop, moving her mouse around.

“why do i like you so much, sage?”

“i dunno, i guess i have that effect on people,” you smile as you push your hair back, opening the door so you could start getting ready.

“by the way,” you say with one foot out the door, “what was the guy’s name?”

“somethin’ hong, i kept forgetting the name, why? does it ring a bell?”

“nah, just wanna have a name in mind just in case he shows up, you know they like doing that.”

“well let’s hope not,” she groans as she stretches her arms out. “i really don’t need the extra stress - i can already tell tonight’s gonna be extra for no reason.”

and crazy enough, your boss was right. security had to break up two fights, one of the dancers ended up getting sent home (she was overly drunk), and a bartender ended up quitting - all in the span of four hours.

you look at the clock on the wall, readjusting your bodysuit straps and making sure your makeup was still intact. it was finally midnight, which hopefully meant the rest of the night would be better until it was time for the club to close.

“crazy ass night huh?” your closest friend and fellow dancer, hana (also known as chardonnay) approaches you. she finds her makeup kit and grabs a brush, dolling up her face.

“who are you tellin? and it’s only thursday! if heads into the weekend,” you say but hana finishes your thoughts.

“oh hello no, do not manifest that energy. this weekend can be busy, but not crazy,” she puts her kit back in her corner and checks herself out.

min then walks into the dressing room, hastily scanning the area for one person. “hana!” she calls out, slightly panicking. “you have a whole party waiting for you and you’re talking in the dressing room?”

“i know min, i just had to make sure i was ready, sheesh,” hana rolls her eyes. “gimme five and i’ll be out. they can wait.”

“you better hurry up,” min says walking away, “mia already has had to deal with a lot of shit and i’m pretty sure the last thing she wants to deal with is y’all acting out.” she closes the door behind her and the music becomes muffled again.

“lemme head out there before even more hell gets raised,” hana sighs as she switches her clear heels for her champagne-colored ones. “i guess i’ll see you out there in a bit.” she and a few others leave the room, leaving the space nearly empty.

——

after checking yourself out, you finally head back on to the scene, deciding to walk around and look for clientele since you already performed on the main stage for tonight.

as you get deeper into the center, you notice a figure at one of the small, standing tables. intrigued, you walked closer and your body can’t deny it’s reaction when you see how handsome he is. his dress white shirt had a few buttons opened, his black hair styled to where not all of it was in his face, and his eyes? oh you felt like you could melt in them.

when you finally get close enough, you place your hand on his shoulder and he looks up at you, putting his glass of whiskey down. “hey there,” you smile flirty at him, and he responds by smiling back at you.

“hey beautiful,” he says in the most soft, yet incredibly sexy tone. “i haven’t seen you around before, are you new here?”

“oh, so you’ve been here before,” you say going to the opposite side of the table, your eyes not leaving is. “that’s interesting, considering i’ve never seen you, i practically have a sixth sense when it comes to this place.”

“mmm, different days, different times, maybe,” he picks up his glass and takes a sip and when he puts it down, you reach for his hand and take hold of it.

“well that can’t stop us from getting to know each other better,” you rub his hands softly. “what’s your name?”

“hong. joshua hong, to be more specific,” he says. “and yours?”

you try to keep a poker face, but you fail drastically as your expression changes. “hong?” you think to yourself. “hong.. why does it sound so familiar?”

you mind then recalls the conversation with mia, and you slowly remove your hand from his. “w-wait a minute, hong? are you a club owner or something?”

“actually i am, how did-” you interrupt him by scoffing and shaking your head, not believing what could’ve happened.

“no fucking way.. you’re the man that called my boss earlier today weren’t you? about wanting to own this place?”

“yeah, that was me,” he says with all the pride he can muster and it made you a little annoyed. “this place has so much potential, and it’s becoming one of the most popular clubs in the area. with my help, it can reach that and more! everyone would benefit.”

“look, hong - whoever you are, this club is doing fine. mia didn’t need a savior before and she doesn’t need one now, especially from some cocky motherfucker who he thinks he can change everything just by walking into the room.” you walk away ready to find another customer, but he comes in front of and stops you.

“you’re bold as hell.. i love that in a partner,” joshus says grinning as he begins to kiss the side of your neck teasingly, his lips feeling like a soft pillow. your body and your mind are now drastically confused. yes, he was trying to take over the club and you didn’t want that, but you couldn’t deny your physical attraction to him either.

after a few more seconds, joshua pulls away and smirks at you, clearly enjoying the fact that you were starting to break down your walls. he takes something out of his pocket and slides it into your hand, and when you feel it - it’s a thick wad of cash.

“let’s go upstairs baby,” joshua says as he pulls you towards him, having you lead the way. watching your surroundings, you firmly grab his hand and you lead him to the vip rooms, walking up the steps and then finding the closest, empty room.

unable to hold back anymore (and away from any other eyes), you sharply pull him closer to you and smash your mouth against his, hands roaming his hair as he walks backwards. when he reaches the edge of the couch, joshua gently sits down and pulls you onto his lap, his hands now palming your ass. you lowly moan at the feeling as you begin to roll your hips into him, his touches becoming more firmer as he squeezes your cheeks.

“you couldn’t resist me, could you?” joshua laughs to himself. “just a second ago you were telling me off, and now you’re like putty in my hands.”

“fuck you,” you moan out when he starts playing with the crotch of your bodysuit, dragging two fingers over the cloth. he continues the motion until he can start to feel a familiar dampness.

“awww cute, you wanna fuck me,” he gloats, dragging his fingers into your bodysuit, playing with your inside lips. he continues the motion for a few moments and then you muster every good bone left in your body, to pry his fingers away from your now dripping core.

“fuck, i shouldn’t be doing this.. i really shouldn’t be doing this,” you say hesitantly.

“well why not? we’re already here aren’t we? no one has to know, baby. this’ll be our little secret, m’kay?”

and that was all you needed to hear. this was definitely something you’d be carrying with you to the grave.

“fine. one round and then that’s it-” you can’t even finish your sentence before joshua slams his lips once again on yours, this time with more vigor and fever.

——

for the millionth time tonight, your body and your mind are in two conflicting states. how could something this bad be so incredibly good?

“m-mmm, sh-shua,” you moan into his ear as he thrusts into you, your bodysuit completely off and his pants pooling down at his ankles. “you feel amazing,” you continue to feel him up, pressing down on his shoulders. joshua hisses at the feeling, guiding your hands down to his waist so you can see and feel what he was doing to you.

“that’s all you,” he smiles as you move a bit to match his pace, almost moaning with you at the new intensity you both set. “with me here, you could have this every night, hmmm, maybe even more than that to be real with you.”

he was really trying to get you over, but for your sake - it couldn’t happen.

“and with you here, you’d probably take out 20% of my pay,” you chuckle but it’s immediately cut off when joshua thrusts sharply into you, causing you to hunch over and moan, almost loud enough to where someone could hear you.

“i thought you needed to be quiet? you’re fucking the new potential owner, can’t have everyone finding out, right?”

“fuck, fuck, f-fuck,” you whisper, joshua not sure if that was from the sex or if you were still frustrated that your morals have gone out the window.

you feel a tightening in your core, and you knew any minute that you were about to come. as he continues to thrust into you, the coils in your become smaller and more detailed.

“joshua, shua, i- mmmm, i-!” you call out for him and moments later, you juices leak on him. you relax into his chest, regulating your breathing to a slower pace.

——

“this doesn’t mean anything you know,” your back facing him as he helps you fix the strings on your bodysuit. “i’ve already crossed some lines that i can’t return from.”

“i keep telling you sweetheart, no one has to know. you’re making it seem like you have to tell the whole world.”

several thoughts run through your mind, including ones of him railing you from behind in one of the secluded vip rooms. you try and push them out of your head when you finally speak.

“and if i did want to see you again, how would i go about that?” joshua then hands you a business card and pats your back, signifying that he was done.

“just gimme a call love.”

you both walk out the room, and he turns to face you again, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “see you soon, baby.” he walks away, leaving you dazed and in suspended motion. you almost don’t hear your name being called out.

“sage!” hana calls out to you and you walk over to her.

“who was that? he’s so fucking hot! how’d you bag him?”

you sigh as you lie through your teeth, “he’s no one special. just another customer.”

[imagine-silk]

Pre itsv platonic yandere PB in ur most recent post hits different... sorry for rambling, but im like obssesed with this idea.

• maybe his object of affection is a friend's kid, who he helped raise. He's the coolest person ever in their eyes! He'd be there whenever he could when they were younger, and he still tries now that they're college age.

• but he slowly becomes more jaded and depressed from the stress of being spiderman, and then him and mj divorce.

•he's depressed, he can barely get out of bed nost days ... and his object of affection, worried about their family friend, starts to visit him nearly daily. It's little things, like helping him clean, or taking him out to get coffee, or just... talking. And Peter clings onto that kindness. This kid (they're college age, but they'll always be a kid to him) saves him in a way.

• its only fair that peter looks out for them all the same-- When he patrols, he follows the kid from a distance and makes sure to lead villians away from their part of town. And for a while, it's enough to just keep them safe as Spiderman, and peter is happy for the first time in so long.

•...and then the kid says they're moving out of state for college, and peter can't bear it. He's started to see this kid as his own, and all he can feel is betrayed. How could this kid leave like everyone else in his life? He wouldn't let that happen. Whether it be hiding their letter of acceptance or straight-up just locking them away in his apartment, he'd be keeping them close by. He's delusional enough that guilt evades him-# his kid loves him, right? They'll adjust eventually.

This is a little ooc but like ^^^ platonic yanderes r my passion + im a sucker for depressed yanderes who become obsessed over people who made their lives light up for the first time in ages.

》 That may be so but your OOC is welcomed. Honestly I love prompts like this cause I can get a different angle from what I typically imagine so this was real nice. So yeah, ramble all you like.

In high school he was your dad's best friend. And he had you at the age of sixteen. Shortly after Peter got bit. To say they were stressed was the biggest understatement in the world. They got through high school intact and went off to college while you were with your mother who was and is a fucking legend.

It took a few years to find out he wasn't actually related to you but he laughed and told you no one would ever want to drink blood so water wasn't bad. He always had a quip, was super strong, and he always seemed to know what to do. Having that thought consistently throughout your life had a big impact. You wanted him to be proud of you, you wanted to be him, and your dad laughed while he encouraged you. You would chase him across the world and further.

Looking back on it you realized he had his moments though. Sometimes he would get iffy and leave for a while only to come back like he didn't leave. When you were thirteen you visited him during one of his iffs. He told you to go home. When you were fourteen you did again. He told you to leave again. When you were sixteen he straight closed the door on your face after you said your piece.

Normally his episodes didn't last long, two weeks, maybe three if it was bad. You went over when it lasted a month. When he opened the door you shoved yourself in and said hi. That only took five years. He didn't force you to leave, he didn't have the energy to, but he told you to million times.

You looked around and then at him. He'd never been the cleanest person but the mess he had was almost impressive. But you weren't going to turn around, this was your moment to finally prove yourself as an adult. So you started picking things up and throwing it away while talking about nothing.

Watching you cleaning his mess and talk was the most horrible thing to see. It proved to him he was in such chaos you felt you needed to pick up after him. This shouldn't be happening, he should have handled it better. That was a bad thought and he knew it; no one would brush off people dying because you were too slow, no one should. But you didn't know that so he let you clean a bit and leave.

Having you shove yourself in the next day with a bag under your arm was also horrible, it was cleaning supplies. You still didn't go away when he said. You went around cleaning, you asked if he remembered when he taught you how to clean to get yourself out of trouble, to use bleach and made sure you didn't accidentally make mustard gas. He wondered if he was in hell, that he was to live a pitiful life with no way to fight it.

The next time he didn't open the door. You threatened to break down it down and he said have at it, and to not cry when you hurt yourself. You didn't cry when you hurt yourself, you came back the next day with a lockpick instead. At that point he accepted the idea he wasn't in hell. Then you saw his dishes weren't piling new ones. He didn't know if he was going insane while you cooked and cleaned or if he actually died while he wasn't looking.

You pushed him into the bathroom to get him to shower, when he couldn't get up you stayed and made him laugh with varying success, washed his clothes. He hated every second of it, hated that he was so useless you felt like you needed to do any of this.

Every new thing you found you stitched. It hurt but it made him better. He let you cook new things in his kitchen and take him out to coffee, all under the guise that he was doing you a favor of course. Before he knew it he let you in without a fight, his house was spotless in a way it never had been and you were visiting daily with a smile, he was smiling.

So he tried to return the favor. He stocked up on thing you wanted and liked, things to mess around with in the kitchen, those weird imported snacks you always got, even domestic things for the rare occasions you stayed over. And Spiderman did the same. Made sure you were unbothered when you were out and about, at the time he didn't realize he was punching harder. If a villain was in town he took the party elsewhere. He got used to this life.

His brain malfunctioned when he heard you applied for colleges out of state. Why would you go to Harvard? That was in Boston. California is just as bad if not worse than New York you know. There's nothing for you in Connecticut so there was no reason to apply for New Haven. He's lost a lot, aunt May is gone, his wife left him, he sees the people he can't save up close, Gwen. Now you were so close to slipping away.

You knew he'd be taken aback so you tried to reassure him by saying you weren't leaving them, him, and you'd come back every chance you got. He wanted to take that answer and leave but so many people have said that to him it was hard to. You brought him to tears and broke them with a hug and a key phrase, "I love you." How was he supposed to just let you leave?

The more he thought about it the more his mind swelled with looming regret. But then he visited you when you were opening your letter. Denied. You were frustrated and groaned it was the second letter you got, both denied. Under the excuse he was visiting to keep updated and the help of Spiderman your letters seemed to stop coming all together. No one knew where they went. He saw it as a job well done. You would get too upset to keep applying. Then you applied by email and explained to the recruiters what was happening. He couldn't stop that. A pile of letters in his closet for nothing.

There was so many things he could but he knew they would only go half way or not work at all. He couldn't just tell you no for so many reasons and threatening the recruiters would work but it would also be out in the open. However there was a way to keep you in Queens for sure and he had the energy to do it. Did it feel morally wrong? Yes, but the ends justify the means.

The next few days while he was getting everything ready he reminisced about your life. He asked if you remember how you would always ask him if he liked you're hair when it was obvious you did it by yourself, with too much gel or unnecessary accessories. Did you know he tried to take care of you by himself while you were just a few months old and you got sick, but you didn't really do anything other than sleep and spit to medicine out as much medicine as possible. You might not have remembered the time you were twelve and got lost so you called him to get you because you forgot your parent's number. And you took the stories. It was proof that he always paid attention to you and that's what you wanted, his approval, his pride.

You couldn't remember what you were doing, how far you got in the college process or if you were getting there but you remember having a drink with Peter. Something was wrong and you asked him to help you because you couldn't keep yourself up. When you woke up you were in his bed. Not very weird, it was a one bedroom apartment, what was was the restraint on your ankle connected to the bedpost. You called out for him and tried to get out of bed only to fall hard on the ground. The light from the hallway offended you and he was next to in a second.

You realized a few things; you were in pajamas, you were very weak and you throat was dry, but the worst thing was Peter not helping you the way he should. And his answers to your questions didn't nothing but tell you this was real. Never in a million lifetimes would you say he would be capable of doing this, or rather going through with it. You asked to leave and he said no.

You wanted to be there. You did anything you could to get in. You always said you'd be there for him so do it now. You love him don't you? You've never lied to him so you meant it. You love him. You don't need to leave ever. If he had to force it to happen he will.

[holly-fixation]

Three... Guards? Ch7

Summary: Tifa finds Cloud at the train station in Sector Seven. It’s the first time she’s seen him in seven years. But he’s not alone. Three silver haired boys protected him. Three silver haired boys that triggered memories of her hometown. Of steel through her chest. Of SOLDIER First Class. Of Him.

Now the future is staring them in the face.

Please Enjoy!

Inspired by the prompt by @im-totally-not-an-alien

Chapter 7: You Win Some...

‘Big Brother’. Strife could have lived a thousand lifetimes without hearing that title again. He was lucky that he almost stopped the remnants from completing their goal. If they didn’t fall into the reactor, if the Lifestream had not been the source of so many problems and absurd solutions before, maybe he would have left them there. But He came back from the Lifestream. Strife couldn’t take the chance that the remnants could possess the same skill. He never expected to see Midgar whole again, questioning where or whenever he was. He had to focus on keeping his former teammates’ trust which meant no killing ‘the boys that saved him in this world’. At least they might have some way of finding their youngest brother before ending up in more trouble with Shinra.

Right now, the evacuation and protection of Sector Seven was AVALANCHE’s top priority. Barret took over the slums, having just the right balance of charisma and intimidation to convince a large chunk of the population that this was not a joke. Still, without any active threat or battle occuring, it took time. Sometimes it took money. Most times both. If Strife hadn’t come back with his wallet intact, Barret would be worried about starving to death before Shinra even sent a threat.

Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge all attempted to secure the upper plate, but with almost no reputation and the nature of Shinra supplied housing for their workers, they struggled. Only a handful of families followed, deciding to spend the night with their extended families on other plates. Both above and below, all AVALANCHE members knew exactly why so few listened: they were not sure if they could trust ‘future boy’ and without a direct attack, no member had their hearts in their work.

Only ‘future boy’ and the two elder brothers believed in the coming truth. Strife refused to let them out of sight, even with the fate of the pillar they stood on. The boys only listened to Tifa’s command to stay by his side. Strife promised not to kill them, not yet anyway. He couldn’t let any of the Remnants find any part of Jenova. Whatever this new Reunion was could not be good. On top of this pillar with very few places to run would have to do for now. He just hoped they weren’t stupid enough to take another suicide dive like they did in the reactor that sent them here. Or like Kadaj did to the Cloud here.

This just left Tifa at the gate between Sector Six and Sector Seven, waiting for Cloud and the girl in the pink dress he should be with. What was her name again? Aeris? Either way, Strife informed her of their impending arrival, but also explained that in his world, he did not reach the gates until long after nightfall. Tifa knew of Cloud’s strange loyalty to the boys, however, so she believed Cloud would return sooner if returning Kadaj claimed top priority.

Well… she was almost right. 

She watched Cloud and the girl in pink enter through the back of the playground near the gate. The sun hung dark in the sky, night nearly fallen and the gates ready to close soon. 

“Cloud!” Tifa sprinted to her old friend and trapped him in her embrace. “You are alive!”

Cloud softly returned the hug, but he didn't get a chance to speak or protest before she realized his very thought. 

“Wait a second, where’s Kadaj?”

He let her go to look into her ruby eyes. “The Turks took him.”

“What?!”

“I don't know what they're planning-”

“They're taking him to Shinra Tower,” The girl in pink spoke for the first time. “We have to get him out of there, Tifa.”

Tifa's gaze met the planet greens. “Aerith, right?”

Confusion flashed on her face. “How did you-?”

“Long story but right now we have to get to the top of the pillar.”

“The pillar?”

“Shinra's trying to drop the Sector Seven plate to get rid of AVALANCHE.”

Cloud’s military instincts kicked in instantly, giving absolutely no delay or useless questions. No one would make that up. “Where are the others?”

“Barret's evacuating the slums. Marleen's with Marle on their way to Sector Five. Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge are trying to evacuate the upper plate.”

“And the boys?”

She winced a bit. “At the top of the pillar with 'Long Story'.”

Cloud turned to the girl with the pink bow. “Aerith, you should head back-”

“I’m going with you. Those boys might be in trouble and they might listen to me too.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

She giggled. “I can take care of myself.”

A loud clank boomed from the side of the gates. 

“We have to get in Sector Seven right now!” Tifa shouted quickly before dashing through the massive closing metal. The two rushed behind and made it through with plenty of time to spare. 

Only then did they learn Shinra had caught onto their plan. 

The sector was flooded with security personnel threatening anyone who planned to leave, rifles and batons at the ready to take down any resistance. The deadly uniforms even found the underground tunnels to Sector Five, both barring any entrance and trapping the people inside. 

This was not part of the plan. Thankfully only the bottom of the pillar was guarded to the teeth. Strife and the boys were still at the ready, but Tifa’s group needed to fight their way through. At the very least, they could be backup for ‘Long Story’.

* * * 

“Big Brother, can I have a potion?”

“Why the hell would I give you a potion.”

“Because we're being good,” Loz explained a bit defensively. 

“'Being good'?”

“Yes. We listened. We haven't tried to run away.”

Strife groaned. They had been up here for hours waiting for Shinra to make their move. None of them spoke a word to each other. The boys didn’t know what Strife would do, and Strife didn’t know what he should do. “Have you really been getting away with this ‘helpless child’ act after what you did?”

“We saved your life here…”

“Don’t pretend you were selfless.”

Yazoo sighed as he scratched his arm. “Your friends are grateful nonetheless…”

The man almost growled, digging through his pocket before throwing the container to the largest boy. “I will hunt you down if you try to run away.”

“We haven’t tried to leave…” Loz explained sadly as he popped the container open. “Your friends are nice to us…”

That… Strife didn’t know how to react to that, the childish sadness genuinely getting on his nerves. A lie? Most likely. A statement that wouldn't hold up if their 'mother' stood in the way? Absolutely. If Tifa did not demand their lives remain whole, Strife would absolutely claim ‘he couldn’t get there in time’ or ‘Shinra was more prepared than he thought’.

The ratchet of bullets pierced through the slums, and the boys ran from the control panel to the edge in search of the source, clinging to the railing between the three hundred meter drop. Yazoo instinctively reached for his gun. Loz did the same for his gloves, but both were quickly reminded by the emptiness at their sides where their weapons actually were. 

Strife had long discarded the remnants’ hardly functioning scraps from the slums. He managed to find all of their true weapons when he first appeared in this new world, and he sheathed them for safe keeping within his many sword holders.

They glanced back at their big brother. “Tifa’s back…”

He nodded, watching the center pillar of Midgar. A single helicopter tainted the under skyscape. The Turks. There was no other option.

“She found you…”

No surprise there. “Get away from the edge before they realize we’re up here.”

They nodded and went back to leaning against the control panel. Loz was positively itching for battle, his hands twitching and eyes constantly jerking to every sound below. If Yazoo felt the same way, he did not show it.

Mako eyes watched and enhanced ears listened as the battle and the aircraft moved closer and closer. Soon one clearly overtook the other, and the dreaded helicopter donned with Shinra’s logo landed on the platform first.

The two remnants were taken aback by the familiar faces threatening them once more.

“Damn, you sure move quickly…” Reno muttered as he readied his baton. “Leaving Aerith all on her own just to get a new wardrobe?” 

“We’ll have to check up on her later,” Rude responded.

Strife did not answer them, silently adjusting his fully complete sword.

“No comment this time?”

Again, nothing.

“Straight to the fight then, huh? Just the way I like it!” The red headed Turk attacked first, but Strife’s single maneuver had the tip of his blade to the agent’s throat.

Rude tried to intervene, yet suffered the same fate from a single click of the detaching blades.

“Fall back.”

“Ha! Get real!”

Another attempt. Another failure.

“Fall. Back,” The blonde practically growled. 

“What the hell…?” Reno muttered, utterly confused how this man suddenly gained so much strength.

“Get back on that helicopter. And tell Tsung you failed.” Strife saw the twitch in their eyes at the mention of their boss. Of course these trained professionals hid their slip quickly. “Never return to Sector Seven again.”

“Like hell we will!”

Strife stalked forward slowly, forcing them both back at the same pace. “Tell them I was there when Sephiroth burned Nibelheim to the ground and they covered it up. Tell them I will use every inconsistency of the actors you left there, the hidden chamber in the mako reactor housing a literal alien, that their ultimate goal is to find a fictional Promised Land by torturing a mother and daughter because they have no reading comprehension skills, that they injected every SOLDIER with both mako and the alien’s DNA and that’s why we all degrade, to take them down. I can go on with all the lies and cover ups Shinra has done in the name of more gil, and I will shout it from the top of Shinra Tower if I have to. Do I make myself clear?”

“Tell them yourself,” Reno spat.

Strife shoved them against the aircraft. “Get out of here.”

“Why don’t you kill us?” 

Reno really needed to learn when to keep his mouth shut.

“Because I want Shinra and all its bullshit off my back.”

Finally the two Turks entered the helicopter, the redheaded one still glaring at Strife with a silent demand. This isn’t over. Rude opened fire. Each bullet crashed straight into the control panel and screens. And the long haired boy that wasn’t fast enough to dodge.

Strife slashed a beam of magic at them, but Reno stole the reins and flew them out of the way and towards HQ. Once he was sure they wouldn’t return, he ran to the Remnant’s side, shoving an elixir into the boy’s hand. “Take this before Tifa kills me.”

Yazoo nodded through gritted teeth and obeyed, shakily lifting the bottle with both arms as blood flowed down his shirt. The bullet literally went through him, the panel visible through the wound. 

Of course his wound just began to close as Cloud, Tifa, and Aerith finally arrived. 

Tifa spoke first as Cloud observed in shock, and Aerith watched with curiosity. “Strife, did you take care of them?”

He nodded. “The Turks are gone. They’re not coming back.”

“Miss Tifa, please help Yazoo!” The elder remnant yelled.

Tifa and Aerith ran to the young boy’s side, but Aerith was the one to cast a healing spell and mend his shoulder completely. 

“There you go, little guy,” She gave a small smile to hopefully prevent any worry, but he just gave her a confused look.

Strife glanced up at his younger self. “Where’s Kadaj?”

Cloud hardened his confusion for a moment, taking on the soldier-like instincts he needed to get through this. “The Turks took him.”

“...no…” Denial clogged his voice.

“We have to get him out of there.”

“You’re messing with me-”

“Shinra put a bounty on them and I guarantee if we don’t get there soon-”

“-Hojo’s gonna experiment on him with anything he deems fit.” Strife finished for… ‘himself’.

Cloud only nodded. A lot of explanations were in order, as well as developing a completely new plan.

“...FUCK.”

* * * 

It was dark outside his container, the cylindrical glass chamber Shinra trapped him in. He growled at the irony of it all, that he suffered the same fate as Mother when all he wanted to do was find Her. She had to be here. They always knew how to keep her hidden, but each attempt at escape left him in greater pain. 

He scratched silently at the massive bandages of his chest, a procedure he was told started and finished while he was unconscious. The resultant grogginess still infected his mind. He almost missed the annoying Shinra lap dogs that brought him here.

This lab was Hell incarnate. 

They threw him in some kind of battle chamber until he couldn’t stand, each robot and creature wearing him down bit by torturous bit. Once he collapsed, they injected him with some kind of tranquilizer. He awoke in the tank after the procedure concluded, but even through his frustrated and drug-ailed mind, he knew the name he kept hearing over and over and over again.

What were they looking for? What did they think they would find?

The scientist with long greasy black hair and dark circular glasses paced in front of his chamber again, the same one he was certain made every decision about his existence in this laboratory. Small mako tanks lined the walls, but most light came from the lacking artificial glow above. 

“You know of Sephiroth, yes?” Hojo’s slimy voice finally stained the air. 

“I’ve never known Sephiroth,” Kadaj spat the truth, his glare nearly cutting the glass he was trapped in. 

“Your test results are quite impossible without some connection to him. So what are you? The result of some desperate fangirl looking through his garbage?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Come now. I have plenty of time.”

“It’s. Complicated.”

Hojo skimmed through the clipboard in his hand. “A new mutation of S cells. Slight differences in bone structure at presumed age. Greater presence of mako within cell formations. You’re almost the same as Sephiroth. But not completely. There are certain genes missing, genes I know you need to survive.”

“Mother…” The small word left his lips in the tiniest defiant whisper. 

“Excuse me?”

“Because of Mother…”

He gave an annoyed sigh. “I don’t care what your lying mother told you, there’s no physical way-”

Kadaj suddenly slammed in the glass, cutting the scientist off. “Don’t you dare insult Mother like that.”

“I will speak of your worthless mother as I deem fit-”

His blood boiled. “She did not sail the cosmos to be judged by the likes of a pathetic creature like you!”

Hojo took a single inch back, his eyes finally returning to the boy. “...Who was your mother?”

“Your kind calls Her a calamity. But She is a godsend.”

“What's her name?”

The child slammed the glass again, this time earning a shock and a small shout in response. 

“What is her name, Child?”

“...You called Mother 'Jenova'. 'A new god'. That’s the only thing you did right.”

Hojo skimmed the note again, the smallest flicker appearing in his eye. Realization. “...You’re a part of Sephiroth.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but fell silent at the truth.

“Yes, yes, that’s exactly why you’re incomplete.” Hojo kept flipping through the pages. “Even your battle results agree, just shy of what Sephiroth was capable of at your age.”

“Stop saying his name…” The mutter went unheard.

“Oh we need much more testing. Under certain simulations, do you make the same decisions? Do you use the same spells? Do you have the same temper? Besides mannerisms, can I rebuild Sephiroth through you? Or separate Jenova’s cells from your DNA and begin entirely new experiments?”

Kadaj gulped, his heart sinking and a deep instinct threatening to cry out from his very soul.

This lab is Hell. 

“The possibilities are endless.”

.

.

.

.

To be Continued...

Thanks for reading!

Author’s Note: I try not to curse in my fics, but this seemed appropriate.

[cf-377]

A NEW SERIE IM MAKING!!

Title: Love and Lies

Detective + singer (Ruthless diva)

(14) 16+ - "it's rated 16+ due to mature themes like violence, adult language, and sensitive topics. It’s intended for older teens who can handle complex subjects, but without explicit or overly graphic content."

Category: Psychological Thriller, Crime Fiction, Romantic Suspense, Drama, noir, Thriller.

Down you'll see what it's about!

UNDER CUT

The story follows a young, ambitious singer who is desperate for fame but doesn’t know how to get there. She’s been struggling in the shadows, overlooked and stuck in a life she can't escape. When she crosses paths with a ruthless mafia leader who offers her an easy way out, she doesn’t hesitate. His proposition? Steal from her parents to fund her dream, and in return, he’ll help her climb the ladder to superstardom. She does it, and true to his word, he helps her secure her place at the top.

But there’s a catch: he falls in love with her. She doesn’t feel the same way—he’s just a means to an end, someone too blinded by his own obsession with her to see the truth. He proposes, and she says yes—not out of love, but because his power guarantees her safety, wealth, and influence. The marriage is a business deal, and she uses him like a puppet, playing the role of a dutiful wife while secretly pursuing her own desires.

Years pass, and she becomes an untouchable icon. The number one singer, adored by millions, with a perfect life on the surface—fans worship her, and she has a boyfriend, but he means nothing. He's just a cover to keep people from knowing the truth: she’s married to a mafia kingpin. She’s cold, calculating, and ruthless. Money and power are her only true loves. She’s addicted to the thrill of her success, to the high of drugs and the feeling of being untouchable. She’ll do anything to keep it all.

But what she doesn’t know is that someone’s been watching her all along. A private detective, hired by someone from her past, has been following her every move. He knows about her theft, her dark dealings, and the lies she’s living. He’s been gathering evidence, waiting for the right moment to expose her.

As the story unfolds, the detective closes in on her, and she starts to feel the weight of her actions. Her perfect life begins to unravel as cracks start to appear in her empire of lies. The mafia husband she used to climb the ladder begins to show signs of losing control, and her relationship with him grows more toxic. She’s no longer sure if the man she’s married to is the one who’s protecting her or the one who might destroy everything she’s built.

Her addiction to money, fame, and power continues to grow, but so does the threat of exposure. The detective, having gathered enough evidence, is closing in. He knows she’s dangerous, and the more he uncovers about her, the more he realizes she’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect her empire, no matter who she destroys in the process.

The climax could reveal her slowly starting to lose control over her own life. As the detective prepares to confront her, she’ll have to make a choice: fight to keep her empire intact and risk everything, or come clean and face the consequences of her actions. Will the mafia kingpin still protect her, or will he finally turn on her when the truth comes to light? And in the end, will she learn that the cost of fame and power is higher than she ever imagined?

As the detective continues his covert investigation into the singer's life, he begins to observe more than just her criminal behavior. At first, he sees her as nothing more than a target, a person to be exposed for her actions. He’s hired by her parents, who want their money back and justice for what she’s done. But as the days go by, something unexpected happens—he starts to notice the little things that no one else sees.

It starts with the way she moves, the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes when she thinks no one is watching. He notices how, despite her cold exterior, she sometimes pauses before a performance, a moment of quiet hesitation where she seems like a lost girl rather than a star. He catches the way she tenses when a fan gets too close, or how she quickly hides her face in public, always careful to keep up her image. She’s guarded, always putting on a perfect façade, yet there's a sadness behind her smile, a loneliness that even her fame can’t fill.

But it’s more than just these small gestures. The detective sees the subtle kindnesses she shows to those she doesn’t have to—like when she quietly donates to a charity or the rare moments she lets her guard down with her few trusted people. He sees her addiction, her need for control, but he also sees her desperation. It’s as if she’s trapped in her own life, unable to escape the monster she’s become. She’s a prisoner of her fame, and despite all the power, wealth, and attention she has, she seems hollow.

There’s a moment that shakes him to the core—he’s following her one night, watching from a distance as she’s at a private gathering. He sees her laugh with her friends, a genuine laugh, and for the first time, the detective wonders: Is there anyone in her life who sees her for who she really is? In that moment, it dawns on him that maybe she’s not just a criminal, not just a cold, calculated person, but someone who’s been broken by the very system that made her successful.

He starts to empathize with her, maybe even pity her. The more he observes, the more he feels like he’s falling for the person he was supposed to expose. Her mask begins to slip, and he realizes that her evil might just be a consequence of a life she never really chose, of a need to survive in a world that doesn’t care about the cost of success.

Then, the twist deepens: the detective’s connection to her parents isn’t just professional—he’s a long-lost relative. Her parents, desperate to get their money back, knew he was the only one who could get close to her without her realizing his true intentions. His heart is torn. He wasn’t just hired to expose her; he was brought in because he’s connected to the very people she betrayed.

As the investigation goes deeper, so does his struggle. He can’t help but feel sympathy for her, and the line between right and wrong becomes blurred. He finds himself questioning his own motives—should he finish what he started and bring her down, or does she deserve a chance to redeem herself?

Her life starts to spiral in ways he hadn’t expected. Her mafia husband, who’s become increasingly paranoid, begins to notice the detective’s presence. In a moment of weakness, she confides in him, not knowing he’s the one who’s been following her. She tells him the truth about the man she married—the lies, the manipulation, the cost of it all. The detective is now caught between loyalty to his family, his growing feelings for her, and the realization that exposing her might destroy her completely.

In the end, he makes a decision. Instead of taking her down, he goes to her with a choice. He can expose her—destroy everything she’s built—or help her escape, but only if she’s willing to change. She’s at a crossroads too. Her addiction, her obsession with fame and money, has pushed everyone away, and now she’s left with nothing but the twisted life she’s built.

But the question remains: Can she change?

She’ll have to choose between redemption and keeping her empire. But can she truly escape the darkness she’s created for herself?

[merulast]

People in space

(Event Horizon - Family movie that teach people about space physics)

I took a deep breath when I left the transport and raised my head to the top of the ceilings. This was the right station, and it was underground. But yet the light seemed so surreal .. normal. Not Neon. Not Bulb or LED. It just felt natural. Like being on an open flower field in spring. Not many ft under the ground. Staring at special lights that Karls-Ruhe had installed on this stations to keep you distracted. Like everything is fine. Everything seemed right.

I already remained as the last person on this station. It was time to go. So I climbed the the stairs, following the led stripes thought the surreal and bloomy scenery back to the surface. It rained. I noticed that there was another rail road on top of the underground one. Wondered what the difference might be, and passed by of this blinding colourfull display windows. Offering to transfer money. Good food. Having a call with your families or risking your salaries on some slot machines. And in between all of this was an narrow door. 24|7. The serial number of my home for tonight.

I mean. Not the first door. Not the second. Not the big ones, of places that ran down. Closed up and pasted over by political papers on the former clear windows. No. The last one, the tiny one.

Just the right code, and the door would open. Let you in a narrow room with 4 computer panels and a desk that divides this room like an natural but useless barrier between customers and the paper files stored in a shelf behind.

"Hello customer. Please tell me your booking number, and your name" Easy task. Two of the terminals seems to work. The others just show something confusing. Probably had been out cold for quite a while. I started to enter the number. The display calibration was slightly off. Writing on it was not that easy.

"May I help you?" an voice asked. A small man suddenly approached besides me. The look in his eyes was firm. Like he had seen to much, and rules was the thing, that kept his world together. "Nah. Im fine." I try to continue. It's not as there werent many posters on the wall telling you what to do. I cant remember, if the posters had been intact. Maybe something had been torn off? Maybe something, that I should had known. But somebody made sure that I will not know. Not now. Maybe never.

He was insisting "I really should help you!" I raised my tired eyes from the display and slowly move them over, and down to him. "Its complicated." "Hm. If i cant even handle that. How could I handle anything on the path that lays ahead?" He dont cared. Raises his small hands to the display and starts punching on the different shapes. "Now take a card and put it in front of the scanner!" I might had a weird look over my face. Why in all world was he not completing the task himself, it is was SO important? Why having panels in the first place? I took my card and presented it to the scanning device.

Error. "Do it again!" he keeps punching on the panel. "Do it again!" "Again" "Again!!!" And without anything changing. My hand was not even moving. Suddenly he said "Its done. What are you waiting for? Go up! Its capsule 20!" And off he was.

I took a deep breath. Climbed the stairs to a smal lobby with tables and a running TV. Some kind of space documentary where soldiers shot and killed each other. In front of them some old guys. Wearing leather jackets that probably had been made out of old enemies skins. Or maybe the remainings of old friends. Haircuts strong like short steel. Faces firm and strong, but crafted by deep, painfull memories. A dark skin tone in memorial to their probably orange skinned idol. The blue, almost blinded eyes gave me a short look. But no words. Nothing. At least they had been alive. Not like the other guys sitting in the corner and staring to the screens in front of them. Probably this backs will never be straight ever again.

I nodded to the room and progressed further thought the first security lock. The card worked. At least.

....

It was deep in the night. I already had been in my capsule for a long time. But they been still shaking. Sometimes the wodden planks outside of the capsule made noises. I decided to do not ask, why steel secured capsules needed to be patched up with pinewood planks. Maybe it is not steel at all? No. Do not think about it. Again and again the capsule was shaking. I decided to raise up the air conditioner a bit more so that it's rapid operating noise might calm me down.

....

Early morning. Time to get up. The temperature had risen to 27°C. The conditioner did its best to blow air and dust, alot of dust into my tiny capsule. But probably it would had been more efficient, when it just could blow, and suck at the same time. Like, having a stream of air floating thought the cell. But no. It was eighter one. Tough decisions had been made. I open the airlock and feel the pressure lowering. The floor looks empty. Most of the flocks had allready left.

....

Stitting in front of the TV. Eating and watching 'jenifer tat'. It was somehow the only non war related thing that i found. And suddenly. The guy spawned to my left.

"What are you watching there?" "A true crime show" I was wondering, if this was 'ok' or not. Its a public place. On the other hand... It was basically just like most true crime shows. An long stream of sad pictures and interviews. "It's horror!" he asked. No, not really, he decided. "Its a documentary?" I asked. "No its horror" Insisting again. And suddenly it felt like there was horror. I just had not been able to see it so far. "Let me help you" he smiled, and ripped the remote control out of my hand. Soon enough he noticed that all the other options had been much worse. "This is so bad. So much horror. So much horror." He decided to select one show by himself.

And a warm, big smile came over his face. He walked away. I sat there. Left behind and not able to continue. I waited for 5 minutes. The walked over to the capsule. Collected all my stuff and headed to the exit. Fast, but not too fast. Suddenly I remembered the faces of this other old men here. Those blinded eyes. Those empty eyes. I passed by the TV and even thought I shut it up when I left. It was activated again. Running BBT again. I looked around. But I did not saw -him-. Even thought I felt his presence.

I walked down the stairs. Threw the card back into that machine. I left the place and the city. Probably to never return again.

[rightxonxmain-archived]

Onyx watches his movements with a sigh, seeing how scared he is. "Lighten up babe, Im not going to hurt you. I forgive you." She slowly approaches and wraps her arms around him, closing her eyes. "You brought my favorite flowers, I cant be mad at you. I...I dont think anyone ever bought me flowers before." She gently takes the bouquet away, smelling them with a sigh.

"Oh and I forgot to mention, your head.." She gently takes his hat, curtly putting it on her head, healing the rest of the wound to stop the light from escaping it. It looked as if his head was fully intact! "I can fix that. Though I do love you wearing a hat." Onyx giggles and smiles, Roxie slowly slugging back. "Can you both stop keeping secrets already?! Im sick of having to play mending match maker!" Roxie calls out and Onyx waves her off.

"Jesus you both are gonna make me vomit, Im going back inside." Roxie gags, limping inside of the home. Onyx rests her head on Brians chest, feeling Alymer which she gently takes him out. "As for you. Im still mad at you but I have a question. If you and Brian go out at night...what do you do? You were in that girls mouth that night and I know Brian doesnt include you in our sessions. So what the hell do you do?" She asks calmly, glaring at the little blue turd.

The emotional dam that had been holding back Brian's crying finally broke when Onyx embraced him. He hugged her as tightly as he ever had—Tight to the point Aylmer's skin made a slight squelch with every squeezing increment.

Brian was so overwhelmed by their reuniting, he nearly didn't marvel at the magic taking place. Reluctantly moving one of his hands from her sides, he felt around on the top of his head, curious to see if the fix was permanent or only an illusion.

"Maybe we can take turns wearing them," he said, blinking away some of the excess tears. "You look cute in my stuff."

Aylmer came up for air at just the right time, as Onyx was already making a grab at him. He was prepared to face her down this time, and swished suavely beneath her grasp.

"... I have to take Brian with me... You have legs, so I don't expect you to sympathise, Onyx, but using Brian's body is simply the pragmatic thing to do..."

Sessions was a rather 'professional' way of putting their sex life, thought Brian. He'd heard her use the phrase several times before and thought nothing of it, then. But knowing what he knew now—That she was a sex worker—significantly changed his perception of such wordage.

"Again, I don't expect you to understand, but I find it's easier to suck out the brains through the mouth..." Finding out he had no chance of juicing the witch upset Aylmer to some degree, as it forced him back into a relationship with Brian.

"It's for his health," Brian volunteered, his stomach nonetheless sick with the idea he'd killed a girl. "He really does need human brains in order to thrive... I don't think he can live on animals alone..."

The parasite cleared his throat.

"Thank you, Brian, but I've got it from here..." Aylmer never moved his focus from Onyx, even as he addressed Brian.

"Brian doesn't remember his highs... I make sure of it... That's why he's so keen to keep on using... It's the only thing that even comes close to the feeling he gets when he's with you... His words, not mine..."

"I didn't say it like that, but it's the truth... I got anxious when you left for the night, and I asked Aylmer if he would go out with me... I needed to feel something other than worry... I knew Aylmer wasn't always straight with me, but I didn't have solid proof he'd done anything like this before..."

Aylmer would've rolled his eyes here. Sounded like a typical addict's excuse.

"Well, there you have it..."

"Can I have Aylmer back now?" Brian didn't need the juice at the moment, seeing how his head was completely back to normal. As a matter of fact, when Brian reached behind his neck to scratch a moment ago, he no longer felt the hole left by Aylmer's inaugural visitation.

Was he free at last?

"I have an idea, babe, but I need to know more... Let's go somewhere and talk. Aylmer, this concerns you, too..."

smolcuriouskitten // cont'd [ x ]

Brian didn't face Onyx straightaway but gradually turned his head towards the woman he loved. He knew that making eye contact wasn't an imperative since she seemed to never change her expression (usually) and therefore it wasn't easy to read her reaction to what was being said to her.

Still, he had called her in here and now he was obligated to treat this like an actual civil conversation.

"Well, that's kind of just it-"

The young man practically recoiled when he saw that grin which was, unfortunately, getting to be more and more characteristic. It was also a bit of a 'war flashback' moment for him, as he could recall breaking out into maniacal smiles for no reason at all starting with his connection to Aylmer.

"You and he have been doing an awful lot of talking lately..." Brian sighed, still in the dark as to the light shooting out of his head. Right now he had a rig of saran wrap and tape over it to keep the elements out, but he knew that would only get him so far. Needless to say, hats were a must when out in public. His brother Mike was bringing new fashions over weekly.

"I just don't want you going down the same path as I have, Onyx... And I don't want more trouble for Aylmer, either... It's not any secret how much I've had to pay the cops to keep quiet about things as they are..."

***

The parasite was indeed incapacitated, currently swaddled and sipping chicken brains from a blender cup with a straw, but the severed link between himself and Brian had caused an additional phenomenon; he could now hear all of Brian's thoughts! Even from another room!

Needless to say, the attempted co-conspiring taking place in the bathroom caused unhappiness to swell inside of his blue body. Onyx was his only recourse during these tough times, this he believes wholeheartedly... Aylmer didn't actually posses a heart, instead a heart-like part called the aortic arch, but that's neither here nor there. All that mattered was his will to pit Onyx against Brian because Brain, bless him, was of little to no use anymore.

[strangeswift]

hi abby its jade!! congrats on the follower count, very well deserved ❤️❤️❤️ !!

if those slots havent been filled out already.. ohoh you know what i want. apocalypse byler + jealous mike. im on my knees orz

Congratulations Jade @blueeandyellowmakesgreen you have been selected to receive ✨️a ficlet✨️

Apocalypse Byler + Jealous Mike coming right up!

-

Will Byers was absolutely smitten.

Mike was sure of it, he could see it in his eyes. Even worse, Mike knew that there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. He was stuck at home with a “sprained ankle” (he still didn’t trust his mother’s diagnosis seeing as she was not a medical professional) while everyone else went out on missions.

Everyone else was out doing supply runs, and fighting monsters, and falling in love. Okay, not love. God, Mike hoped not.

The Wheeler house had become sort of a home base, it was still intact and it was the largest house available. Plus, being hospitable made Karen feel useful.

After missions, everyone would usually return to the house for food or a safe place to sleep. Or they’d gather in the living room and chat. Mike had been essentially living on the living room sofa, since he couldn’t climb the stairs without help and he refused help. So even though Mike wasn’t allowed on the missions, he could listen to everyone talking about them.

He was jealous, and bored. Perhaps he was going a little crazy.

One of the things he’d gathered from listening in was that there were assigned partners on these missions. Everyone had someone to watch their back. Which was good, he supposed.

The problem was, Will seemed to have bonded with his partner.

Mike hated her. He hated the stupid heart eyes Will was constantly giving her.

Robin fucking Buckley.

Mike wasn’t even sure when exactly she became part of the team. When exactly she found out about the Upside Down. A few years ago, she was just the exasperated girl behind the Scoops Ahoy counter who rolled her eyes every time they came to force Steve to sneak them into a movie. Then she… cracked a Russian code? Mike was still fuzzy on the details of that whole ordeal.

Now, ever since she and Will had been working together on missions, she was basically all Will could talk about.

“That reminds me of something Robin said…”

“Robin’s actually really funny, you should talk to her…”

“Have you seen Robin?”

Will was so obviously obsessed, it made Mike want to throw up.

She was too old for him anyway. RIght? Mike wasn’t sure exactly how old she was. He never paid much attention before.

He had, however, been collecting information about her over the past few weeks. For totally normal, not jealous reasons.

He knew she spent most of her time alone with Steve, but they were not dating, much to Dustin’s chagrin. He knew people thought she was funny, because they were always laughing around her. He knew she talked a lot, and really fast. He knew she was sarcastic, which he resented. He knew she was friends with his sister. He knew that when she was alone, she always looked kind of sad. He knew she was pretty. He knew she was smart, at least according to Dustin, who seemed a reliable source. He knew she was kind to Will. He knew she kept him safe, like Mike used to.

This was all information he’d gathered purely from observation. He never asked Will about her, because he didn’t care. Not in the slightest.

He most certainly didn’t care as he sat on the couch with his leg propped up and watched Will and Robin walk through the front door of the Wheeler house, talking and laughing. He continued to not care as Will said something to her and then turned to look at him, his face lighting up as soon as their eyes met. Probably because he was excited to tell Mike more about how great Robin was.

Robin. What kind of stupid name was that anyway? It’s a bird. It shouldn’t be the name of a person.

He snapped out of his hatred induced trance-like state as Will plopped down on the couch next to him, so close their sides were pressed together.

It was a big couch…

He was probably saving room in case Robin wanted to sit.

“How’s the leg?” Will asked with a small smile.

Mike shrugged, “Fine.”

Will’s smile faded, “You okay?” he asked.

Mike stared at his lap and picked at a thread on his shorts. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

“Mike, what’s wrong?” Will asked, sounding concerned.

Of course he was concerned. Will was the best friend in the world. The problem was, Mike couldn’t tell him what was wrong. He couldn’t say, “I know you have a giant crush on Robin and it’s actually driving me slowly toward the brink of madness because I’m having some very strange feelings toward you that I’ve thus far chosen not to think too hard about, but I’ve been stuck in this house alone all day for weeks and it’s kind of hard not to think about them, so I think I’ve come to the tentative conclusion that I’m in love with you.”

He really couldn’t say that, but honestly it was on the tip of his tongue pretty much constantly.

“I uh… my leg just hurts,” he said instead.

Will furrowed his brow, “You just said it was fine.”

Mike sighed, “Yeah, well…”

Will hesitated. Mike could practically hear him debating with himself whether to push the issue. Mercifully, he didn’t. “You want to see something to cheer you up?” he asked.

Mike smiled, he couldn’t help it. “Sure.”

Will nodded and stood up from the couch, he went upstairs to Mike’s room where he’d been staying, and returned with his sketchbook in hand.

Mike’s heart soared. He loved seeing Will’s art, more than anything.

Will sat back down, not quite as close as before. Mike resisted the urge to scoot closer and close the gap.

Will opened the sketchbook on his lap, and Mike looked down at the pages. On one side, there was a sketch of Will and Mike in their DnD personas. It was beautiful. It was mesmerizing. It made Mike feel things. Things like the desire to grab Will’s face and kiss him square on the mouth.

Mike couldn’t focus on that for long though. Because on the opposite page, was a half done sketch of Robin. Her head was thrown back in a laugh and her stupid hair was cascading over her shoulders. It was gorgeous. Of course it was, Will did it.

Mike glanced up at Will. He looked nervous, his face was a little red.

Oh god, was he about to tell Mike about his crush on Robin? Was showing him the sketch his way of doing it?

Why else would he be nervous? There was no reason for Will to be nervous about showing Mike a sketch of the two of them.

Unless…

No. Mike couldn’t even go there. Hoping would be a terrible thing to do to himself. Especially considering Will’s obvious infatuation with one Robin Buckley.

He took a shaky breath. “Cool,” he said.

Will looked nervous still. “Cool?” he asked.

Mike nodded quickly, “Yeah. they’re really cool.”

Will paused. “Oh. I was really just wanting to show you this one,” he said pointing to the sketch of Mike and himself.

Mike’s pulse quickened. He should say something. Something normal.

“Do you like Robin?” he blurted out.

Great. Really great, Mike. Super cool.

Will raised his eyebrows. “Like… like her?” he asked.

Mike wished the couch cushions would open up and swallow him like loose change, never to be found again. Unfortunately they did not, so he was forced to continue the conversation.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said awkwardly.

Will laughed a little. Why was he laughing?

“No, Mike. I don’t like Robin,” Will said.

“Oh,” Mike said.

“Oh,” Will repeated with a smirk.

They sat in silence for a moment, then Mike blurted, “Are you sure? You know you can tell me if you do. I won’t get mad.”

God. Shut up! “I won’t get mad?” Why the fuck would you get mad?

Will laughed nervously. “Uh… yeah. I’m sure. Like, very sure.”

Mike’s head was reeling. It seemed like Will was telling the truth. He had no reason to lie.

“I’m not really… Robin’s type anyway. I mean, she’s not mine either, and she’s older. Really, we’re just friends,” Will rambled.

Mike was ecstatic. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he said, “Okay.”

Will smiled back, but then he looked nervous again. “I uh… I kind of like someone else anyway,” he said, his face bright red.

“Oh. Okay,” Mike said.

Who the fu-

[sunsents]

Library - James Potter (M)

Heyyy, hey, how ya'll doing?? My exams are over!! Thank you so much for the support and the lovely messages 😙 here's a kith. I know you guys are waiting on Empty part 2, so here's a really short unedited thing?? I wrote a few months ago for you guys to read while you wait. You can really see how much I improved with my recent writing, but I hope you all enjoy this nonetheless while I finish up Empty 2. Enjoy, or don't. Idk.

Summary —> A study sesh turns into something much more when two knuckleheads interrupt you.

Pairing: jamespotter x fem!reader (im sorry to frederick for neglecting my gingeritis religion.)

Word count: a mere 1.4k

Warnings: smut / just filthy sex honestly / cheeky lil breast action /

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You made sure to neatly pile your hoard of essay papers and not mind the ink blotches your palm had left from the hours of work put within. It didn't matter, Slughorn cared about the content rather than esthetic, hopefully. It was no big matter to worry about you told yourself, your handwriting was messy and not the most appealing, but your handiwork in potions was quite the opposite, it was fine.

"Hey ____, still workin' on those?" James Potter's husky voice cracked like a whip in-front of your face, perhaps painful to your ears as well.

You glowered at him, what else were you supposed to do? His antics continued to worsen every day. "What do you want?" your nasally voice caused you to clear your throat, evidence perhaps that you hadn't left the library seat and spoke in hours.

"Just checking in." Sirius Black's pool of hair - black as well - was turned the opposite way, he was gazing at the library books, a most unusual sight for him. "Didn't want you melting outta boredom."

"I'm perfectly fine thanks." you snapped, your head rung in awful thumps of pain but you paid no attention to it.

The corners of James's perfect lips lowered playfully. "You're all snappy, we're doin' nothing." his tone was smooth as silk now, his lips tugging into a playful grin once again. Never was a grin not on James's handsome face.

You took a deep inhale while watching him, you had to anyways. Your fingers were fidgeting together under the table, a view James couldn't hopefully see but the way your rings clicked together made him painfully aware. "Just don't bother me till' I'm done, I'm almost finished."

James nodded, his bottom lip jutting out in a frown once again. You had to roll you eyes, had to do something to make it seem like you weren't enjoying their so called company.

You stretched your head back and enjoyed the feeling of your neck craning and extending for a few moments. It had been a some time since movement was made in your fatigued body. you figured your tied up hair wasn't going to keep intact much longer, so you released the band in a swift move. Your hair cascaded down all the same, then you quickly shot straight and continued to write.

You didn't have time for comforts and stretching, you were close to finishing your essay and that was all that mattered. You didn't even bother asking James if he had done it, because his answer was surely at the ready. He was Head Boy and his marks were all excellent, but when it came to homework it was long forgotten to him.

A slight diversion caused you to look up, James and Sirius were on the ground and a few books had fallen, scattered around the wooden library floor. You scoffed then flicked your wand; the books magicked up and flew back to their original places. "One second and you guys make a mess." you stared, your eyes flashed dangerously. You weren't an intimidating person, at least you liked to think so much unlike what your friends said.

But surely, you easily managed to intimidate the two most popular boys in Hogwarts. They both quickly shot up and took the seats in-front of you. Sirius was apologetically looking down, unlike James who immediately relaxed and sprawled himself out on the plush cushions. Ass, you thought, but didn't say anything.

"Alright what do you want, really." you deadpanned, you knew them for seven years, they weren't fooling you.

James, who was busy wiping his glasses on the fabric of his sweater put them back on and smirked. "You." he simply said.

You rolled her eyes and scoffed all the same, though your stomach was erupting in butterflies. "James why don't you go bother Lily like you always do." you whispered, Madame Pince was glaring at them and you weren't going to risk getting kicked out of the library again.

"No," James started, Sirius merely watched the interaction play out with a smile. "why would I go t'her when I have you right here."

You shot up and squeezed your fists, you weren't going to fall for it, a phrase you had been telling yourself for the past two years when James's interest suddenly piqued on you. "I'm gonna go put these books back."

After pressing the three large books to your chest, you wasted no time getting far away from the two boys as possible. Your heartbeat was rapid, dangerously fast that you thought you might drop dead.

It wasn't much time until you reached the furthest corridor of bookcases, luckily this was the row where you had acquired the books. You walked to the middle and stood on your toes, reaching your hand up and letting the books fly back to their original places. Then, the next book, same process. You were going awfully slow, doing your best to avoid talking to James as much as you could so your burning cheeks could go cool down and your heart would stop trying to thump out of your chest.

The third book, so close to being done until a presence suddenly overpowered you. It was right behind you and awfully familiar, towering over your stretched figure. James' cologne was what gave it away so suddenly, "Let me." his tone was going in spirals, once husky, then silky and now this. Breathless, strained and somehow desperate.

What you didn't realize was your skirt lifting up when you stood tip toe on your legs, your years of Quidditch clearly visible on your body. At least for James anyways. You heard him swallow thickly, then a muscular arm towering over her figure and pushing the last book up.

James sucked in a breath.

It was dizzying, you were never this close to him. A new territory, unfamiliar and intimate, not to mention exciting. Sure he flirted but he never took it too far, you didn't know what to think of it either. He was confident while "flirting" with Lily, he held his chest high and cracked jokes which only made the Lily blush deeper and continue to insult him. His ego boosted whenever Lily would try to hide away her blush, and the usual row of girls on the background sighing with her. It was somehow annoying, seeing James so buttered up.

James exhaled harshly.

But with you it was different, James was the one blushing. An unusual sight, James Potter being flustered but it was true. He would even stutter at times if you playfully flirted back, which happened very rarely. He would start off confident, and it would die down in a matter of seconds.

James was breathing almost heavily now.

You felt proud at sometimes, you even believed that James maybe would be harboring feelings for you. But then that big ole clump in your head would yell 'why would he, he's James Potter. Also, he's been in love with the same girl for years.' and all that hope would dissolve away.

James groaned desperately.

So frankly, you didn't know how you ended up with your skirt hiked up your waist, panties messily tucked aside and thick cock buried to hilt between your walls and continuously slamming into that one, dizzying spot. James' hands slithered around your waist and his arms tightly encircled on your stomach to press. You could feel every single muscle. Every single muscle to from stomach, down his thighs and the flesh between them.

He pressed his chest on your back, whispered the filthiest phrases he could think of to make you writhe, told you how pathetic you were for letting him do this in a ruddy library. Maybe this was what caused him to run a hand up your chest and clasp his hand around your throat. "Keep quiet, don't want anyone seeing you like this." he had told you, and it was the slight roll of his hips that made you unable to answer and barely take it.

You babbled, drooled, worshipped his cock with your sopping cunt until he was telling you that he loved you. He pulled on your chin to kiss you, sloppy and wet and he didn't let you answer. His glasses were pushed behind, rocking back and forth with his body, dangerously close to falling off. He was gorgeous and with your hands propped on the library shelves, you whimpered an "I love you." back. The two of you came, claiming each other and lazy smiles knowing that the feelings the both of you harbored was reciprocated, and the possibility of having something more was true.

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

Would it be to much to ask for a Eren scenario where both he and the reader are both equally toxic, manipulative and possessive over eachother but both just cannot let the other go to the point where even when they reunite when Eren escapes the survey corps he asks her to tell him if anyone else whether it was the army or the jeagerists, if they had touched her even if it was just to escort her which she just nods and refuses to tell him any names cuz she likes to see him riled up by her having been "corrupted" and seeing how with a single act she can have him on edge and he falls for her even more by her devious and selfish wiles to have him get irritated and angry but only to end up wanting more of her charms.

Just some good dark angtsy feels all around🖤

A/N: just a little drabble. i've never done canon-verse stuff for AOT so this was fun to try. thank you sending this ask. i did deviate from your ending a little bit so im sorry <3

Warning: AoT Season 4 Spoilers, extreme possessive behavior, toxic relationship, anger issues, gaslighting/manipulating

Eren can feel himself getting restless. Hange had been getting on his nerves. He was the literally the only reason they had secured their victory against Marley on multiple fronts. She and the rest of the fucking Survey Corps should be bending over backward in gratitude.

He cracks his knuckles although he had no need to, wanting to focus on a physical sensation. His thoughts eventually circle back to you. He misses you sorely.

In Marley, there was this kind child Falco. Eren could say he felt guilty for manipulating the poor boy. But that's not true. He's shed that part of humanity a long time ago. All's fair in war after all.

The fair-haired boy was worried about his friend, didn't want a certain special someone of his to become titanized.

Is this other candidate a girl?

Eren had asked. Because he could relate to the Marelyan child. There was a girl he was trying to protect too, who he'd raise hell over, who he'd destroy the world for.

The dark-haired boy can feel himself grow restless. There are a million things to do. Coups to start. Militia to gather. A brother to manipulate. A world to ruin.

But first, he needs to see you. It's already been so long. He had barked orders to Floch to make sure you were safe and secure. If any hair off your pretty little head was misplaced-well no one wants to witness the rage of the Founding Titan's holder.

CRASH

The ground shakes. Eren closes his eyes and lets the Warhammer titan's power course through his veins. Foolish to think any prison could ever hold him.

He's walking uphill. The sunset bathes the land in vibrant pinks, oranges, and light violets. There is a crowd of people standing tall and at attention, postures rigid, save for one.

You hurl towards him at the speed of light and twice the fury, wrapping your arms around his neck. If Eren wasn't six feet of hard muscle, he would have been knocked off his feet from the vigor of your crushing embrace.

"Eren!" You cry out.

The attack titan vessel is too shocked to respond. He's been anticipating your presence for the longest but to finally feel you in the flesh and to smell your soft pretty scent was sending him into overdrive. He couldn't believe you were tangible and not some hauntingly beautiful apparition.

He wraps his arms around you, enveloping your body in his warmth, and you rest your head in the crook of his neck. He feels your nimble fingers toying with his hair.

"I like this new look. It suits you." You mummer.

"Like me without a shirt too?" Eren teases.

He forgot how easy it was to be himself around you, to joke and laugh like he wasn't planning a global genocide of epic proportions. No, even that's an understatement. His goal was an omnicide, utter annihilation. Only Paradis will be left after the ashes settle. A Paradis with you.

"What are you thinking about?" You ask, eyes wide with an untouched innocence that Eren doesn't know how you still possess. All of that eager wide-eyed optimism had been snuffed out from all of his friends. From him. But you, you don't change like the seasons or winds. You're you.

And that was going to be his ruin.

After the Yeagerists brief him on what happened with Zackley and Zeke Yeager's possible whereabouts, Eren gives into his overwhelming urges to see you.

He approaches your chambers, trying to conceal his impatience with soft knocks. You don't answer which irritates him, so he knocks louder and louder, the sound of his fist banging against the door sounding like thunderclaps.

Where the fuck are you? Were you with someone right now? He knew you were getting a little too friendly with Floch from the way you guys were talking at dinner. It was so obvious. He's been gone, for what, a few months and you're already whor-

The door opens and exposes a sleepy-looking girl whose rubbing one of her eyes. Admittedly, very adorable.

"Eren" Your voice is saccharine, "Do you need anything?"

He lets himself in, and shuts the door behind him, locking it in place.

"I don't usually lock the door," You pout but there's a playfulness in your expression that Eren would have noticed had he not been consumed by rage.

"What? So you let anyone in?" He asks, nearly snarling out the words. as he stares scandalized at your slip of a nightgown. A pale translucent pink that reached the middle of your thighs. He could even make the outline of your nipples poking through.

"No, silly." You giggle, twirling the hem of your dress, "Floch's security measure." You pretended not to notice how Eren's fist clenches.

"Is that so?" Eren said, words spoken between gritted teeth. As long as Eren was here, there need be no concerns over security measures. But he knew Floch. The ginger worshipped the ground Eren walked on and would never make a move on you if he cared about his limbs staying intact.

You sat down on your bed and Eren couldn't help but watch your skimpy dress ride up your creamy thighs.

He stood over you, his form looming over yours as you sat on your bed, feet swinging above the ground.

"I wanted to ask you something."

You look up with those big childlike eyes, "Okay."

"Did. Anyone. Touch. You?" His voice is low and he punctuates each word slowly.

You blink "What do you mean?” But there’s a coy smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Quit playing dumb." He growls, anger evident in the crease between his eyebrows.

You're quiet for a still moment, mouth opening and closing. Eren's anxiety increases more each second and it finally boils over when you softly ask, "What kind of touch?"

Like a chess piece topping over, he shoves you down the bed, pinning your wrists with his strong hands.

Usually, Eren was smarter. Quicker to call you on your tricks. But alas, absence makes the heart fonder. You love making him lose his stoic composure, so lost in his lust and desire for you that all he can see crimson. And if the price for that is to play the fragile maiden, it is what it is.

"Ow." You pitifully whine, lightly shaking your right hand. Eren knew he wasn't holding you too hard so he experimentally thumbs over a certain spot on your right wrist, eliciting another small whimper. He brings your wrist closer to him and finds a purple bruise.

"Who touched you? Was is it any of the yeagerists?" His voice is deadly calm but an ice-cold rage simmers in his eyes. You can feel yourself growing excited, heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach. You’re rubbing your legs together for the friction but Eren assumes it a nervous tic to avoid answering any of his questions.

When you avert your gaze and simply look the side, he delicately cradles your cheek: “Was it the scouts?”

The delicate touch turns harsher when you don't respond, forcing your pretty head to look straight at him. He sees your eyes glistening, and when he looks into your dewy irises, he can see himself.

His voice drops a pitch, "Please tell me."

Your breathing is shallower and you can't help but enjoy this so much.

It's been so long since you've seen him-since you begged him not to go but he went anyway, and having him here right now--the pride and joy of the Eldian empire , the holder of the Founding Titan-unravel in your fingertips, well this was the closest to true power you've ever been.

Eren can feel his patience sleeping, anger seeping into his bones at your silence, and the bruise on your delicate wrist only serves to anger him further. He can't even do what he swore to do and that was to keep you safe.

"Are you not telling me who it is because you're protecting them?"

The words are delivered deadly calm with the tension of a brewing storm behind it. You're nervous, exactly aware of what your beau is capable of, but the excited kind of nervous where butterflies are swarming in your stomach.

Maybe you underestimated his anger because within a second, the telltale red lines start to form under his eyes, lightning bright sparks forming between each breath.

Without thinking, you envelop the back of his head with one arm (the other hand rendered useless bu the force of his hold), trying to bring his head into the softness your breasts.

Understanding your gesture, Eren immediately calms down and lets himself be smothered in your chest like a babe being cradled in his mother's warmth.

"There, there" you coo, words soft and melodious on your tongue.

You can feel wet-spots on your nightie, "Eren...are you-" you begin, not sure when to end.

His voice is tightly controlled as if not let his coiled emotions fuse again, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was about to hurt you." He sounds so broken, and all you can do is stroke his hair.

You press a kiss to his head. You know what the right words to say are. You should be comforting him and assuring him he could never hurt you.

Instead you stay silent, softly exhaling. He can't see the pleased smile on your face.

*

"Your wrist feeling any better?"

You whip up your head to see Floch whose peering down at you in slight concern. You must have looked confused because he elaborated, "The one you accidentally banged against the doorway. Looked like it hurt."

"Oh." You pause, looking down at the fresh set of finger shaper marks overtaking the fading violet.

You laugh airily, "Yeah it's alright."

[whoree321]

9 + 36 from the angst prompts with cross bc I’m evil 😈

a/n: i wish i was evil but unfortunately i’m as soft as the top of a baby’s head and it didn’t sit right with my soul to leave this without a lighter ending so it’s only like 80% angst im sorryy

“don’t raise your fucking voice at me”

“don’t touch me!”

***

Steam practically poured out of your ears as you stared Crosshair down. His gaze was piercing, and its steely rage was the only aspect of his body language that truly betrayed how upset he was. That was one thing you fucking hated about him. Here you were, face red, chest heaving, nostrils flared, and the only thing that looked remotely bothered about him was the look in his eye.

You weren’t even really sure what you were arguing about anymore. That was another thing you hated about him. A fight with Crosshair— a real fight with him, not some petty disagreement or bickering— never seemed to end without a battle of passive aggression so extended that the original problem was long forgotten. Eventually the two of you would reach a stalemate, and a truce would be called at the raised white flag of your apology.

This time, though, was different. Because it was always your apology that ended the fight, never his. And you had had enough of Crosshair's attitude, his glares and his snide comments towards you. It was infuriating, and you vowed you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of declaring defeat. You couldn’t stomach the idea of once again putting aside your pride just to keep his intact.

Days passed, and the longer you stood your ground, the pissier he got towards you, as though he was throwing a tantrum that you hadn’t ended the fight yet.

So the fight had raged on, neither of you willing to back down and no end in sight.

Until today, when you offered to help Hunter and Wrecker move some cargo. You laughed at something Hunter said, some goofy comment about Gonky. You let Wrecker pick you up so he could show you that he was strong enough to lift you and the cargo box. And you did all this right in front of Crosshair, without a care in the world.

To say he was livid would be an understatement.

So now here you were, seething at each other in some room he all but dragged you into. You didn’t want to give in and be the first to speak, but the silence was suffocating.

“What do you want, Crosshair?”

He narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly before replying.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“What does that even mean!?”, you responded, voice laced with bewilderment.

Crosshair took a few steps towards you, his tall frame beginning to tower over you, the close proximity forcing you to look up at him.

“Did you think I couldn’t see you? Flirting with them like some common slut?”, he sneered at you.

You scoffed, shocked at the venomous words that were coming out of his mouth. He had never acted like this toward you before.

“You’re un-fucking-believable, you know that Cross? I’m not doing this with you right now.”

You turned on your heel to leave, but didn’t make it even two steps before he was grabbing your arm and pulling you back around towards him. You yanked yourself out of his grip, startled at his harshness.

“Don’t touch me!”, you yelled, furious and confused at the way he had manhandled you, your words accompanied by a finger being pointed into his chest.

Suddenly, the hand that had grabbed your arm was encircling your raised wrist, clenching it tightly as he brought his face closer to yours.

“Don’t raise your fucking voice at me,” Crosshair said, voice menacingly calm and eerily low. His grip on your wrist was only getting tighter, and the look in his eyes was frighteningly intense.

You had never been afraid of Crosshair before. You had seen him in combat, and you knew how scary he could be, but you yourself had never been scared of him. But now, with his fingers digging so hard into your skin there was sure to be bruises and his eyes boring into you, you felt a fearful uneasiness toward him.

“Cross,” you began quietly, “please let go of me.”

He didn’t respond, and his silence did nothing but increase your fear.

“Please,” you asked him again, “you’re hurting me.”

Maybe it was the pleading look in your eye, or the tremble in your voice, but something finally clicked. He released you and took a step back, blinking in surprise as though he was just as confused by his actions as you were. Relief flooded you as your wrist was freed, and you rubbed the skin lightly, already beginning to see the formation of some marks.

You glanced up at Crosshair to see him staring at your hand, an unreadable look on his face. He reached out very slowly to touch your bruised wrist, looking to you for confirmation before making contact, and examined it with a feather light touch for a few moments.

“I…,” he started, pausing to swallow thickly, “I’m… sorry. I’m really sorry. For all of it.”

A part of you— the stubborn part— felt you shouldn’t have forgiven him as quickly as you did, but between the sincerity of his apology and the glassiness of his eyes you couldn’t help it. You moved your hand so your fingers interlocked with his, and you gave him a small smile as you replied.

“That’s all I wanted from you, idiot. I can’t believe it was that hard to get a simple apology.”

Crosshair chuckled wryly and pulled you gently to his chest, wrapping his arms around you and speaking into your hair as he responded sarcastically.

“I’ve never apologized for anything before, I didn’t know how to do it.”