#just going to lay in bed until my body disintegrates

[fairyofshampgyu]

Just a Taste

Genre: smut, vampire au, crack, established relationship

Pairing: sub! vampire gyu x gn dom! reader (afab when comes to smut)

Warnings: blood !!!, begging, beomgyu is so whiney, neck biting, dry humping, riding, dacryphilia, face slapping, hair pulling, beomgyu cums literally just from biting their neck lmfao, spit kink, pussy eating, degrading

word count: 2k

Beomgyu lets out a contented hum as he lays down, face buried in your chest whilst you stroke his soft hair, beomgyu totally encompassing and holding your waist tightly in his arms.

Both of you had been cuddling for hours on your bed as beomgyu practically demanded it when he had finally come back, throwing you onto the bed and flopping on top of you despite you nearly being suffocated by his weight and refusing to let you go at all. It’s times like this you question whether your sweet and silly boyfriend was really a vampire. He seemed far from it sometimes.

He suddenly shifts his head to your neck instead, nuzzling and then burying his nose into it as he sighs and takes in a whiff of your scent, “Ah you smell soo good, y/n.” He muffles into you.

“You’re so weird.”

“Can I…can I feed from you? hehe…” He looks up at you mischievously, trying to bat his eyelashes in innocence.

“What? You already had so much!” You raise your brow, looking at him incredulously.

“But-but you taste so good! You’re literally so delicious. You’re like, the best blood I’ve ever tasted in my entire life! How could I not be addicted?” He pouts at you, still attempting to bat his lashes and look up at you cutely so you’ll give in. You usually do if he does it but you don’t seem that relenting at the moment.

You playfully swat at him, "Don't make it sound like I'm your personal blood bank or something.

Beomgyu pouts, "But you are my personal blood bank." He buries his face completely into your neck again.

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult." You laugh and roll your eyes.

Beomgyu grins and wraps his arms tighter around your waist, "Definitely a compliment."

“I’m starting to think you just like me for my blood…” You mutter jokingly, still stroking and playing with his hair.”

“Aw come onn,” he furrows his brows a little and stares at you, bringing his hand up to your face and grabbing your chin, moving it so you look directly into his eyes, “You know I love you, baby. Your blood…is just an added bonus. A very good bonus~”

He grins, making a little ‘:>’ face as he attempts to hold in his laughter. That earns him another playful slap as he giggles, “Ow ow! Sorry, sorry!”

“You’re so annoying.”

And he begins his dramatics again. “I might diee! I’ll dieeee pleaseee you don’t want your vampire boyfriend to like, disintegrate to dust or something do you?” He laces his hands with yours and squeezes them tightly, bringing them up to your face as he gives you puppy dog eyes, raised brow awaiting an answer.

“Think I’m gonna pass…” You say and he releases a little bratty ‘mmph’ at that, but goes on to nuzzle his face further into your neck.

He brushes his nose and lips repeatedly against the soft skin, closing his eyes and trying to make you change your mind, beginning to pepper little kisses.

He then gets harsher with his kisses, sucking onto your neck, leaving little bruises until he licks a stripe of your neck with his tongue and then marks up your neck more. “Gyu!”

“What? I’m not doing anything…” He grins with faux innocence.

That’s when you’ve had enough, you pull him up, changing positions and straddling his lap. He smirks, thinking he’s finally going to get what he wants as you lean in to press his lips against yours, making out with him intensely, lips moving and smacking against each other. You pull his body closer to you, grinding onto him and lets out a little gasp but his smirk only widens, gripping your waist even tighter and trying to roll your body on his for more friction.

“Hmm~ gonna let me taste you?” He asks, smiling smugly against your mouth, looking at you with half lidded eyes as you continued to grind your body against his clothed cock.

“No.” That makes him stop his movements, smug smile faltering and face falling.

“Please…please.” His fangs had begun to show now, glimmering under the moonlight reflecting from the window, looking at you with his dazed eyes and fluttering his eyelashes so sexily, brows furrowed. Him with his fangs was always a sight to see. He looked even more attractive like that.

“Such a pretty vampire.” You coo at him, caressing and stroking his cheek as he leans into it despite his sulking.

“Y/nnn…” Beomgyu whines out your name.

You pull your hair back, baring your neck and leaning down to him, his eyes widen and sparkle and he opens his mouth, fangs peeking out more as he gets ready to feed from you excitedly.

Then, as soon as he leans forward, you pull your neck quickly away and giggle. He furrows his brows even deeper, whining so annoyingly loud in frustration as you still laugh, clearly very amused at his reaction.

You do it again just to see if he’ll be dumb enough to fall for it and he does, leaning forwards fast again only for you to pull away from his mouth, teasing him.

“You’re so mean.” He pouts and whines so incredibly much at you, bottom lip jutting out and acting like a brat. You tease him again, but this time he tries to desperately and pathetically pull your neck back to his mouth.

“So spoilt.” You slap his cheek loud and hard, tutting at him. Beomgyu gasps and holds his reddened cheek, face turned to the side in the pillow, hair messily covering his eyes as he blinks hazily, mouth agape.

“A-again…” Beomgyu hiccups, teary, starry eyed, and shocked. He doesn’t know why but his fangs tingle at that despite aching this entire time.

You hesitantly slap his cheek again and then do it again and again, softly rubbing and caressing the area of his cheek before striking it each time, still grinding and humping against his bulge as he whimpered and whined with every slap, hissing and scrunching his face up into the pillow. Still continuous pleas leaving his mouth of tasting your blood as tears began to roll down his red cheeks every now and then.

You coo at him sarcastically, “Aww poor baby not getting what he wants?” He sniffles and nods his head, sounding like a broken record as he begged for your blood.

“P-please…need it! Just a taste…please….”

“Awww.” You wipe at his tears as they continuously fall down. His bottom lip wobbles and trembles as he looks up at your eyes purely devastated, mouth heavily downturned.

You decide to finally give in and he practically leaps forward to your neck, eyes crazed, not wasting any time and sinking his sharp fangs deep into your neck, puncturing and piercing your skin with two holes.

He drinks your blood feverishly and ferociously, eyes fluttering open and closed as he clings onto you so tightly, letting out a long moan of pure ecstasy as you do the same.

“Tastes so good…ah…mmh.” He groans muffled against your neck.

You begin to feel lightheaded despite the pleasure as beomgyu doesn’t seem to stop, drinking and on the verge draining your blood, sucking, slurping, and licking deeply as the blood seeped and gushed out all over your neck.

Beomgyu’s eyes roll back as he loudly moans and shudders, feeling an overwhelming pleasure course through his body and he cums completely in his pants on the spot. You feel the sticky and wet patch on his sweats against you as his face flushes in shock and embarrassment and he whimpers. He’s never cum just from biting your neck before.

He finally pulls away, panting heavily and eyes glazed over, ‘thank you’s escaping his mouth repeatedly as he still clung onto you with a death grip, hiding his face into your neck and body shaking.

You grab his chin and make him look up at you, using your thumb to wipe and smear the blood that dribbled and dripped down his puffy lips. His pretty fangs were all bloodied too and he gazed up at you so pathetically, so, so pretty. You pull his chin further up and part his lips, spitting into his mouth and he takes it pliantly, your spit mixing with the blood already in his mouth and he swallows, still looking up at you with his round eyes.

Sometimes you fail to remember he’s supposed to be a feared monster but you’re not scared, he hangs onto (mostly) your every beck and call, your own personal, pretty vampire boy that does (somewhat) absolutely everything you say, let’s you do everything and anything you want to him, he’s so obsessed with you. Or maybe it’s the other way round.

You smash your lips with his, making out with him so incredibly messy, your blood and both your saliva mixing. You can feels his fangs graze your lips and you lick at them as he smiles and softly bites at your lips.

He suddenly moves down your body and his head is already instantly between your legs, gripping on your thighs, not even asking before he’s ruthlessly sucking and practically making out with your pussy, fangs lightly grazing against your pussy and your clit making you shiver immensely.

One thing you know beomgyu is definitely good at is going down on you. He eats you so incredibly fucking well, better than anyone has, always so eager and puppy dog eyes sending you over the edge every time.

Beomgyu bites at your thigh softly and presses a few kisses and sucks a few hickeys before burying his face between them again, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking on it intensely. You pull and tug on his hair and he moans so fucking loudly as if he was the one in pleasure, tongue fucking you so desperately.

You try to pull his face away from your pussy but he whines, “I want you to cum though…need to make you cumm” he says wanting to eat you out as full gratitude, as a trade for your blood.

“Yeah, on your cock” he goes wide eyed at that and as much as he loves eating your pussy, he can’t complain at all at the moment, he’s been wanting you to fuck him so bad. His sweatpants still all soiled in his cum, cock aching and throbbing so badly this entire time, wanting to cum actually inside you.

You move to be on top of him again, straddling his waist and pulling his sticky dick out of his sweats, placing it to your entrance and sinking down on it completely as you both groan at the feeling. Beomgyu holds onto your waist shakily, watching you as he bites his lip and throws his head back.

You begin to fuck him at an unrelenting pace immediately, bouncing on his cock up and down that your pussy smacks with his balls every time you sink back down, stickiness and skin slapping noises so lewd around the room. Beomgyu can’t contain his moans at all, never one to anyway, but his mouth hangs open continuously as the strings and series of loud and high pitched whines and moans leave his mouth one after the other, seemingly getting louder every second.

Forearm thrown over his face as you lace his other hand with yours, grasping his hand tightly as you ride him even faster and harder. He begins to thrust up as well, rutting up into you as he whines he’s close, breathing becoming ragged and heavy.

You feel him squeeze your laced hand and grip onto it hard one last time as his body shudders and writhes and with a drawled, high pitched, pretty cry of your name, beomgyu releases thick ropes of his hot sticky cum deep inside you.

Your pace not slowing down as you continued fucking him to reach your own high, pushing his hips back down on the bed and keeping them there and beomgyu didn’t even seem capable of moving or doing anything other than laying beneath you and taking it, whining quietly as he squirmed underneath you until your own eyes roll back.

“How come you always end up getting your way?” You pant, slumping on top of beomgyu’s body.

He giggles, though still trying to catch his breath, “Because you can’t resist your handsome vampire bf and you love mee. Although you were so mean, teasing me like that.” Beomgyu pouts playfully, looking down at you.

“You liked it though. You’re such a whore for stuff like that.”

“I did.” He grins and kisses your forehead. Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and sad when fics have such little reblogs ☹️ Feedback is always appreciated it makes writers want to actually write :) !

A/n: I’m deranged w no sleep so if it makes no sense and is shit that is why🤞. Also it is unedited

[agustdiv1ne]

hey ash! soft hours idea i just had: you, beomgyu's best friend, takes his guitar and asks him to teach you to play something in a lazy afternoon. he oh so patiently teaches you how to play the beggining of a classic rock song and when you finally get it and play it right he blurts out how hes been in love with you... for like a decade.

(im melting

SAM YOUR MIND>>>>> i'm gonna disintegrate this is so adorable

god, just imagine: you're laying on beomgyu's bed one lazy afternoon, the weather outside is cool and soft gray clouds paint the sky, the soft pitter patter of rain mixing with the show that he had turned on earlier. the room feels comfortable, warm, cozy; you think that these words can be used to describe beomgyu, too.

speaking of the boy, he's laying right next to you, the warmth of his thigh seeps into your bare skin as the both of you relax against the bed's headboard, his fingers mindlessly playing with your own his screen-strained eyes stare at the television. shooing the butterflies in your stomach away, you tap his palm to grab his attention. his gaze slides over to you in an instant.

"'m bored," you pout. his nose scrunches up before he's asking you what you want to do, then, if he's just so boring to be around. you roll your eyes at his dramatics, but mull over the question for a moment. what do you want to do?

your eyes trail over to the acoustic guitar that is propped up in the corner of the room. "can you teach me how to play something?"

at first, he thinks you mean a video game, a taunt on the tip of his tongue about how you suck at them, until he follows your line of sight to his beloved instrument. his heart softens a little.

"yeah, sure," he responds while he gets up to fetch it. he sits back down with the guitar set in his lap. you shift so your body completely faces him and watch as he fiddles with the tuning pegs, strumming and adjusting the tensions until it sounds about right to his ears. he peers back up at you once he's satisfied. with a dramatic strum, he announces, "i'll teach you something easy 'cause you're a noob."

you slap his knee in retaliation. "i hope you choke."

"you shouldn't be saying that to your one and only guitar teacher," he smirks. "i could just not teach you. in fact, i'll just go back to watching my show-"

"fine, sorry," you concede, even though you know he wouldn't do that to you, not really.

thus, beomgyu's guitar class commences. he places the guitar in your lap. as he helps you with the finger placements for each chord, fingers gently covering yours, he hums under his breath. the first notes you pluck out are clunky and disjointed, and the tempo is wildly off, miles too slow for it to actually sound anything like the original song. the air seems to shift as he continues to guide you through the intro of the song; he's not cracking the usual jokes at your expense, and — while it might just be your imagination running wild, searching for things that are not really there — he seems to be leaning closer than what is normal for friends.

he works with you for over an hour. you push away those absurd thoughts all the while.

"alright," he says once he deems you ready, leaning back on his palms. "now try playing the full thing."

there's this furrow in your brow as you focus on the strings with the utmost concentration, ensuring that you're playing the right chords with the correct picking, until you successfully play the intro to pink floyd's wish you were here. with a final strum, you look up at beomgyu with a wide grin, and you just seem so happy and excited and proud of yourself that beomgyu just can't help himself-

"i love you," he blurts out. you tilt your head, and regret immediately curls around his chest.

"i love you, too? we're best friends," you respond, unsure what else to say. when he deflates, you continue, worried. "where is this coming from?"

"i don't think you understand."

"beomgyu," you sigh. "if you're gonna be vague about it, then i never will."

"fuck, um." beomgyu is nervous. gone is the typically confident boy, now fiddling his fingers and unable to look directly at you. "i love you. i've loved you for years, now, i think."

stunned, you gape at him, and he takes your silence as rejection, laughing humorlessly. "i shouldn't have said anything. i'm sorry."

shaking yourself from your stupor, you carefully place the instrument still in your lap on the comforter before shifting forward. your knees knock against his as you bring a hand up to cup his jaw. "you never let me respond, idiot."

he finally looks at you, and you send him a gentle, close-lipped smile. "if you hadn't jumped to conclusions so quickly, you would already know that i love you, too."

his eyes light up. "wait, for real? how long?"

"a really long time, probably since we were, like, fourteen," you mumble and your hand retracts, slightly embarrassed. "i didn't accept it 'til a few years ago, though."

"ah!" he exclaims, causing you to jump a little at the volume of his voice. he seems to be back to his normal self, which is confirmed when he starts poking you forehead and excitedly exclaiming, "i beat you! i've known since we were eleven. see, no one can ever beat me, i'm just that good at everyth-"

not without a playful roll of your eyes, you lean forward and capture your lips with his, effectively shutting him up. the kiss is brief and his lips are a bit dry, but your heart pounds nonetheless. when you pull away, there's these dopey smiles on both of your faces. he's staring at you in a way that you've seen several instances before, but never knew what it meant — you know now, what that unique glint in his eyes, the quirk of his lips mean.

"i love you, choi beomgyu," you say, pressing another kiss to his cheek. "but you really need some chapstick."

he groans. "you just had to ruin the moment."

"say it back," you argue as you hand him your own chapstick. his expression softens a little when he looks back up at you, his lips curling up in a tiny smile.

"i love you," he breathes. "now c'mere."

hands cup your cheeks, squishing them a bit, before the rest of him is surging forward to kiss you once more. it's all giggly and sweet and neither of you can fight off the grins pulling at your lips. he begrudgingly pulls away after a few minutes, if only to get more air into his lungs, reaching for the guitar and beginning to serenade you. you hum along with him.

this is what finally being home after a long journey feels like, you think.

this is what love feels like.

[hadestowne]

me on twitter: wow finally pulling my life together again thx 4 the support<33

me on tumblr: im just duch a fucking fuck up i dont understand y i even bother???? bc it all just ends up fucked in the end????? gbye cruel world!!!!!!!

[ramp-it-up]

Make it Hot

Day 16 of #RampitUp1Kinktober

Pairing: Johnny Storm x Reader

Summary: Johnny just wants to make it up to you.

1Kinktober Kink: Face Riding

Word Count 1K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk. Fuckboi ways, bratty attitude if you squint, oral (f receiving), squirting, creampie. Not Beta’d. All errors my own. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

A/N: Im so tired y’all 😩. And this is maaad late, but it’s still the 16th somewhere in my country, lol. This is for the 16th day of #rampitup1Kinktober! TYSM for following me! 🧡

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

“Let me make it up to you, Sweetheart.”

It always started like this.

Johnny’s fuckboy ways pissed you off and he would get you hot to distract you.

It was your toxic way of life being Johnny’s girl. At least it wasn’t boring.

You had blocked him and it had taken him a day and half to notice. He’d melted the lock on your front door to get to you.

You were in bed and about to cuss him out when he stopped you.

“Don’t even pretend. I know you want my attention. Well, you’ve got it now.”

Johnny pulled back the covers, regarding your panty clad body. You didn’t sleep in anything else because you’d invariably get hot.

One way or another.

He waited for that look to cross your face and then disintegrated your panties, heating your pussy up for him.

This is what you wanted. It had been three days since he'd given you dick and he was liking IG models’ booty pics. It wasn’t until you blocked him and posted your own that he came over.

Johnny shook his head at you.

“You know better than to advertise what is mine to the world, Sweetheart.”

He lifted your leg up on his shoulder and started to kiss your foot. Soft kisses and tongue trailed down your leg to your inner thigh.

“But I get it, I’ve been neglecting you.”

He must have been using his power to heat his kisses, because your leg and your soul were on fire.

Johnny ran his nose along your slit and inhaled, smiling as he lay flat on the bed, naked body indenting the mattress, as if etching his form into the bed. He was heating up. You whimpered in anticipation.

You were so wet, your juices were coating his lips as he licked you hungirly.

“So sweet. I want you to sit on my face.”

He lay down with his head beside your stomach, one hand reaching over lightly, hotly, tracing your belly button, while the other started stroking himself off. You swore you saw steam coming off him.

You get up on all fours and swing your leg over his head, kneeling above him. You felt the heat rising as his fingers parted your lower lips and slowly rub your already hardened nub with your wetness.

“Yes, I love this shit,” murmured Johnny, as your thighs started to shake already. “I’m about to eat this pretty little pussy like it’s my last meal, sweetheart.”

His hot hands grabbed each asscheek and pulls you down onto his face, burying his face in your cunt, motor boating and licking your wet cunt with his hot tongue (you’re sure of it now) until you are moaning loudly and beginning to try to lift off his face.

Johnny forcefully pulled you back down, saying something that must be “Sit here and take it,” into your pussy. All you experienced were the vibrations of the words on your sensitive clit.

“Johnny, please, oh my god, oh god!”

Your voice was broken as you begged him to stop. You started convulsing as you came in his mouth, your juices spilling out like a faucet.

When you were done, he pulled you back on his chest, propped his head up on the pillow and looked down at your wet mess of a pussy, trapping you there with his hands on your thighs.

His long fingers were still exploring your sensitive areas, and it was almost too much to handle.

“Johnny, please. I can’t take it baby. Please.”

Those fire blue eyes looked up at you.

“Oh, sweetheart. We’re just getting started. You’re going to be sore in the morning.”

His hoarse whisper made you clench and he felt it. He grinned that grin at you and pushed the fingers of one hand deeper into you while rubbing your clit with the other thumb.

“You’re so fucking nasty, Johnny. I love it”

You were sliding over his pecs now, the hair on his chest adding to the friction his hands were giving you.

He rubbed your clit faster, flicking his thumb over it back and forth until you were crying out, shaking and moaning.

He swiftly pulled you back over his mouth and plunged his hot, thick, wide tongue inside you to incite another orgasm, which happened quickly. You slumped over him onto the bed and he slid out from under you like a mechanic.

You were on all fours again, head on the bed and legs drawn under you. He pulled your legs apart and there appeared that perfect arch.

“Sweetheart. For me? You shouldn’t have.”

Johnny swiped his hard, leaking cock up and down your folds, sparking your over sensitive clit. You were exhausted, but you needed it to make your night complete. You arched even more.

“Yessssss. Let me get that shit.”

Johnny pressed his hot palm on the small of your back and held his dick straight as he slid inside you. You were so wet that it happened easily, but not without an incredible stretch that felt full and warm and good.

Once he was balls deep, he let you adjust and started stroking, warming up incrementally until your walls pulsed around him. At this point, his hips were snapping his cock into you hard and you could feel hot spurts of precum as he got impossibly harder and started moaning.

“Pussy so good. Gets me going. You’re so fucking hot.”

“Give it to me Johnny!” You were gasping for breath.

“Shit shit, fuck, oh my god!”

Suddenly, you felt his hot cum wash over your walls which triggered your third orgasm.

Johnny grunted his release and rolled off of you as you collapsed flat on the bed, his hot spend seeping out of you.

You smiled over at the sight of actual steam wafting from him.

He smiled back at you as he got up and moved toward the bathroom.

“Wanna take a cold shower with me?”

You couldn’t resist that smile, or the invitation.

After all, you knew Johnny would make it hot.

I know this is just PWP. But give it to me. I can take it.

Tags:

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @chattykathysquietsister @nikole-witha-k @nissameta1782 @afriendlyblackhottie @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @donutloverxo @marvelfansworld  @london-grunge @ximaginexx @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @chesca-791 @calimoi @fangirlfree @iconicshit @maroonsunrise83 @partypoison00 @curlyhairclub @denisemarieangelina @harrysthiccthighss @simpinforu @sunshinexsin @celestialbeingz @the-1900 @geminixevans @fanfictionwr1tin @breezykpop @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @peaceinourtime82 @hisgirlfriday439 @nik2write @deepintothenature @jassiejj2118

[sharkdream3421]

Nightmare on Hell Street - Gang Orca X Reader

Warning: Trauma, Dark Tone, and Loss. Reference to World Heroes Mission.

Summary: You have a dark nightmare and it's up to Kugo to make you feel better.

You walked on the street smiling and enjoying the nice and calm atmosphere in Japan. No villain attacks, and no loud shouting noises which was nice.

That was what is appeared to be until you heard multiple clanking sounds. You turned to see that manhole covers flew and landed in the street as a mysterious green gas was unleashed.

You remember this moment, and it has come back to haunt you. Multiple screams were heard as you noticed that the same man you saw earlier screamed as he turned into a small turtle and immediately disintegrated. You also saw a man light himself on fire and burn into ashes, and someone turned themself into a puddle of mud. Everyone was dying, transforming, and so much more! It was chaos!

Everyone around you were changing! Except for you. You were quirk less, you have been your entire life. This was one of the moments in your life where luck was on your side.

You were speechless and fell to the ground as you couldn't move. You just sat on the street with widened eyes, as fire burned multiple objects around you.

A woman in a strange outfit then came up to you, "It seems you don't have a quirk. You are one of the chosen who have been saved."

You started to move away from the strange lady using your legs, "And you don't have to live with a monster anymore." The lady pointed to your husband...Kugo Sakamata.

Your eyes dilated as despair fell upon you. You saw your husband screaming in pain as his feet began to shrink turning into flippers, his figure grew larger as he ruined his clothes, and every trace of a human had disappeared. What laid before you was a big orca. Just a regular orca and you heard it whimper as the flames around it made it weak. The supposed orca, which was your husband was dead. Not as a man, but as an animal.

You sobbed heavily as you extended your hand at the dead orca in front of you.

"KUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

~~~~

"KUGO!" You exclaimed as you shot up in bed your eyes filled with panic and worry.

Kugo immediately reacted as his eyes shot open and immediately sat up straight in bed. He looked at you with shock written all over his face.

You were panting like crazy, your eyes were unreadable. Your entire body was sweating, and you showed 0% of relaxation.

"Y/N, are you okay? What happened are you alright!?" Kugo said with panic in his voice.

"Kugo!" You said as a million tears came streaming down your cheeks as you let yourself lay in Kugo's arms.

Kugo held you tight against his chest, as if the world would try to take you from him.

"Shhh, it's okay my seashell. Your safe, here in my arms. There's nothing to worry about my love." Kugo said in a gentle voice.

Kugo gently rubbed your back calming you down as you cried in his arms.

After a couple minutes, once you calmed down you hug Kugo tighter as you didn't want to lose him to anyone or anything.

"There we go, that's better. Now what happened Y/N, did you have a nightmare?" He asked.

You looked up at him with the most innocent eyes ever. Kugo put a clawed hand on your face as he gently wiped a tear off your face with a finger.

"I had a nightmare about what that plague that religous group unleashed. So many people were in pain, and people were transforming, no changing! You...you were there Kugo. I couldn't do anything as I saw you turn into an orca and......die." You slowly explained as you tried to fight off tears.

Kugo's eyes widened at the mention of him turning into his animal counterpart. He knew that having to see the chaos that had unleashed around her was traumatizing. Kugo and his co-workers, along with the students were lucky they even made it out of that situation alive.

Kugo held you close to him desperately as he nudged his rostrum to your cheek as a make-shift kiss.

"Y/N, it's never going to happen again, I can promise you that. We defeated the group and now everyone is safe. I promised you and your parents that I would protect you with my life and I am very serious to that commitment. So..." Kugo said as he hopped out of the bed and scooped you up into his arms easily.

"How about I run us a nice, warm, bath?" Kugo concluded.

You buried your head into his chest as you clung to him tight.

~~~~

You sat in the warm bathtub with your husband, as you leaned against his chest. He rubbed water over your entire body and cleaned you up using shampoo and body soap.

"Thank you Kugo, you always know what to do to calm me down. I love you."

Kugo smiled as he washed out the soap that was in your hair, "Anything for you my love. I love you too, so much."

After cleaning your body you both sat in the tub relaxing in each other's presence.

"I can also promise you one thing, my love. I don't think I'll be turning into my animal counterpart or will be dying anytime soon." Kugo said.

You chuckled as you sighed enjoying your husband's presence, "It better be never."

Kugo kissed the top of your head, "I promise you my love as long as I live, I'll never leave you and I will always return to you to be in your arms."

Masterlist

[gaysimpsstuff]

BNHA Characters + Their Biggest Kinks

PT 2 Here

PT 3 Here

Genre: smut, obviously

Warnings: NSFW themes, hard kinks, BDSM kinks, lots and lots and weird kinks

Other: felt horny, wrote this

NSFW Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy

Characters: Hawks, Bakugou, Dabi, Shigaraki

Keigo Takami/ Hawks-

Authority Kink- mans has spent his entire life being bossed around, he needs you to submit to him completely and without question. Call him ‘sir’ and he’ll melt. When he’s in this mood, there’s no room for brattyness. Just bend over and let sir take his stress out on you.

Wing Kink- Pretty self-explanatory. The underside of a bird’s wings are very sensitive, and get them horny in no time. Same thing with his back, one when you were cuddling, you were playing with his wings and massaging his back, and you noticed he had his face hidden and he was breathing kind of heavily. It was an embarrassing situation to explain...

Breeding- This one comes more into play during Nesting Season, he just has you pinned down and just keeps going and going and going, trying to fill you up with his babies even if you want get pregnant. You’ll always be his little breeding slut. Even better if you have a bird or lizard quirk and you lay eggs (infertile usually). Even with a male reader he’d want to ‘breed.’

Pegging- He likes to bottom sometimes, so that he can whine and cry and beg and be a good boy for his y/n. Expect him to come home from work feeling more tired than stressed. Total pillow princess. He needs you to fuck him into the mattress so hard that he’s only flying tomorrow.

Praise/body Worship- This goes both ways. You’re his everything, and he wants to make sure you’re aware of how much he appreciates you, but he’s so insecurities that he needs it in return. Soft, teasing touches, whispered I love yous, doing so wells, my pretty baby, go a long way for this man.

Dirty Talk- he wants you to know just what he’s going to do to you, how he’s going to fill you up so good, make you need him and his cock, make you cry for him to keep going, beg for his cum. Even when he’s on bottom, he’s babbling and whining. You can’t get this man to shut the fuck up. It can get annoying at times.

Bath/shower sex- this plays more into his bird instincts. Bathing/ cleaning oneself usually gets birds horny. They usually preen prior to mating season so look out for that. There’s just something about ducking you in his bathtub (jacuzzi) that gets him going like nothing else.

Katsuki Bakugou/ Dynamight-

Switch- this man will present as a top, but he has absolutely nothing against getting manhandled and having the life fucked out of him. Just so long as he can do the same to you. Fuck him rough and good and then take his revenge tomorrow.

Rigger- after all he’s been through, he does not wanna be tied up at all. But he has no problem with handcuffing you or wrapping your pretty body up in Shibari and watching you struggle against them. Will totally tease you the whole time.

Gags- You’re still talking? You need to shut the fuck up. Or else you’ve got something keeping your mouth shut. Tape, underwear in mouth, his hand or fingers, or an actual gag. Loves your muffled sounds when he asks you a question. “Want me to keep going? You gotta say so. Aw I didn’t hear anything so I guess you want me to stop...”

Dirty Talk- Just like Hawks, he can’t keep his mouth shut. But this one is spilling the dirtiest filth you’ll ever hear. Plays into a minor corruption kink. Wants you to repeat it all back to him. On the flip side, gets so flustered when you talk dirty to him. Whining about how you’re a pervert, but just ignore him, he’s hard as shit right now.

Dacryphilia- All those years of Deku crying and you think he wouldn’t have a crying kink? Thinks your tears are so beautiful, might even lick them off your face. “Aww, look at you~ crying for my fuckin cock.” Don’t be weirded out if he licks them off your face. He also cries during sex, though. It’s just too fucking good and he hasn’t had a good cry in a while. Tease him about it and he’ll hide his face, but praise him for it and he’ll cry even harder.

Praise- This man shouts enough degradations outside the bedroom, he wants sex to be different from everything else. Gets a little embarrassed first time he praises you, but if you look at him with those shy eyes and a quivering lip, he’s just gonna keep loading it on. He also wants to be praised, both out of insecurities and superiority. When he’s bottoming just repeat how amazing he’s doing, how no one else is as pretty as him. When he’s on top, he still needs you to be praising him. Tell him how good his cock feels, how he’s gonna make you cum, how no one else fucks you as good as him.

Impact Play- mostly spanking. Uses his quirk. He loves it when your skin forms a light burn in the shape of his hand. Spanks you even if his handprints don’t show up on your skin. He needs it to, just keep smacking his stomach and thighs with a paddle until he’s sobbing.

Touya Todoroki/ Dabi-

Degradation/ Brat Taming- Starting off with the roughness with this guy. These two go hand in hand for Dabi, you need to know where you belong. Underneath him, begging and crying for his cock, his mercy, anything. You need to understand your only purpose is to service him, moan for him, and be his little personal cumdump.

Hard Dom- he won’t go easy on you, no matter what, you’re not getting it sweet or easy. It’s always going to be rough, fast, and difficult. Just try and complain.

Size kink- We all know this man is hung like a donkey, too big to handle. Loves it when you’re trying to suck him off and can’t even get down halfway. Even better when he’s pushing in, and can’t get further than six inches in. Just laughs at how “your cute little hole can’t take my fat cock can it, baby?”

Sadism- Pretty obvious, he likes hurting you. Knives? He’s got plenty. Fire? More relunctant but sure. Impact play? Yes sir. Loves seeing you cry and you babble about how much it hurts. His favorite thing is to write his name on your back with light burns that usually fade in a week or so. Always takes care of your injuries afterwords.

Bondage- Can’t have his little baby trying to touch themself can he? Can’t have his darling trying to escape from him, can he? No no, you’re better off tied to the bed, taking everything he gives you like a good little slut.

Sensory Deprivation- He wants you waiting, dreading maybe, anticipating, his next moves. You don’t know where he’ll touch you, what he’s saying, and you can’t do anything to stop it.

Corruption- He has a thing for people who seem innocent, and he wants to corrupt that innocence. To everyone else, you’re naive, doe-eyed, and probably can’t do anything for yourself. He’s going to change all of that. Bonus points if you’re actually fully capable and he morphs into a co-dependant mess. This man is all Yandere nothing else.

Teasing/ edging- Loves working you up to the grand finale, then pushing you back to the first scene. You’ll never forget his laughter as you beg him for your orgasms. You’ll be lucky if he lets you cum at all. He’ll humiliate the fuck out of you for your pitiful begging.

Tomura Shigaraki/ Symbol of Terror

Mommy/Daddy/Renny (Renny is the gender neutral term for Mommy/Daddy)- This man will call you whatever you want, but this is his go-to nickname for you. You’re taking care of him in and out of the bedroom, at least until he matures.

Switch- Up until he matures, your on top of him the whole time. Loves it when you’re in control, but after certain events in the manga and anime, he starts to gain an apprentice for being on top, although being so unused to it, he has a lot less kinks for being on top than on bottom.

Pegging- self-explanatory. He was always afraid of disintegrating his dick, and anal stimulation meant most of his fingers were pointed away from his body while only two or three were touching his skin. Safer. Now he’s got a huge appreciation for anal play, anytime you see him naked, he probably has a butt plug in.

Pet-Play- he’s your dumb little puppy, okay? Treat him like a bitchy little animal and he’ll do whatever you want. Feel free and drag him around on a leash or feed him food out of a bowl on the ground.

Feet- he doesn’t know why, but your feet are such a fucking turn on. Whether you’re wearing combat boots with spikes, fancy heels with a flower on them, or normal tennis shoes. Socks, thigh-highs and tights? Man is already begging. Just step on him and give him a foot job already! He’s begging, come on!

Water sports- kind of gross, skip this one if it’s gross for you (it is for me but for some reason I’m writing about it) but it’s something he appreciates more as a top than a bottom. Controlling when you go to the bathroom, giving you so many drinks, watching you squirm, begging and crying for him to let you relieve yourself, only to piss yourself. And when you do that, he’s on his knees in front of you, drinking it. Loves how embarrassed you get. Says “anything you make is always gonna be the best” while licking his lips.

CNC- something he enjoys as a top or a bottom. Skip this one if it’s weird or wrong to you, or a trigger. Always pre-planned with a safe word and everything, but he always pretends it’s real. Something about you or him not having a choice, being forced to take whatever the other gives them, begging for it all to stop but being betrayed by your body, it all just drives him crazy.

S&M- Doesnt care of he’s the S or M. He just loves pain. Crying when you spank or slap him, watching you scream as he cuts his name onto you.

[bakubro0]

Please anything shigaraki.. I feel like he would be nervous bc he’s inexperienced but at the same time kinda forceful bc he’s never experienced something like this and it goes to his head

note: god, yes!!!! shigaraki would be a mix of nevous about hurting you or being inexperienced and in a hurry to fuck the shit out of you. let's read about pairing: shigaraki tomura x reader warnings/tags: some headcanons of your relationship with shigaraki, not sfw (under the cut!!), minors dni!!!, virgin!shigaraki, inexperienced, a little fluffy at the end, virginity lost, slight breeding and degradation kink, our grumpy boy just being himself

Dating Shigaraki includes many implicit love gestures; as I said before, in the start he's not the best with physical love, but he tries his best for you.

it means that sometimes he'll just come and touch one of your hands with soft fingers that leave your skin tingling from the contact.

When things get sexual, Shigaraki is a lot more nervous than both of you could imagine. He's afraid of touching you in the beginning and the first time he hears you moaning he thinks he hurted you (just because of his cursed hands, poor boy).

But things change a bit on a particular night.

Both of you are spreaded in Shigaraki's bed. It's a big and soft bed, dark sheets that smell so good that makes your head spin.

Shigaraki's layed by your side as you kissed each other deeper, his teeth digging into your bottom lip. His moans are pretty low, heavy breaths as his cock throb inside his pants.

You can feel how anxious he is. Like his hands trembling in your hair as you whisper his name, agonizing for more of him.

"You're so good at everything", you say whimpering. "Your touch is divine"

This sentence makes him freeze. His hand stops right in the way from your face and his heavy and dark eyes search for any sarcasm in your words - but there are none.

"What did you said?" he asks in a shaky and raspy voice.

"Said your touch is divine" you respond breathless. Your eyes meet his panicking expression, mouth slightly opened, red eyes shining like rubis.

"Y/N this is not funny" he cuts out and starts to sit in the bed.

"I'm not kidding!" you protest. "Just want you to... Keep going"

"Keep going?" he repeats.

And well, he wants to keep going. Fucking hell, he wants it so much. You can say so looking at him - his cock marked in his pants, his heavy breath, the way he's squeezing his hands.

"You sure about this?" he asks again. But he seems to be ready to continue right before the words leave his lips.

You nod your head and open your arms a little for him to come closer.

Shigaraki get closer and licks his bottom lip before kissing you again. It's like a experimental kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth with no hurry, his hands starting their way to your blouse.

That is something both of you know well. Foreplay is a good topic between the two of you because it feels safe for him - but somehow, this time, he's thinking the same as you. He wants more.

So, when the tips of his fingers - covered as always with that glove who keeps two of his fingers away from you - touches your breast a heavy shiver runs down your spine. You arch your back and Shigaraki is satisfied as he feel how his touch doesn’t hurt you - but makes you feel like this.

“Want more” he says and rip out your blouse with no warning. His lips abandon your mouth, but he wast no time; the next second you can feel his tongue playing with one of your nipples and one hand going down on your body. Shigaraki stops before his fingers can touch your underwear. “Take this shit off”

You smile lightly and obey, moaning when you feel two of his fingers on your clit. Again, that is nothing new to you, but the way he does it this time? Shigaraki look determined to make you cum only with his fingers pressed together against your sensitive bud.

“Is this good for you?” he asks with a mix of joy and sarcasm. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes, yes, yes” you respond, too distracted by the feeling of his hands and mouth on your body. “Please, I want more!”

“More?” he asks and stops for a moment. His hands leave you and they undo his belt. His cock rests against his abs. “Is this what you want?”

The surprised look on your face leaves no space for words. You only nod your head once and push him to kiss you again, your hands wandering on his back, feeling how strong and warm his body is.

Since you got together, this is a moment both of you are waiting for. You were patient because you knew Shigaraki too well - you were the only precious thing in his life; he didn’t want any risk.

But the way his hands run through your body is no harm. otherwise, it's so good that you can almost collapse.

You open your legs to accommodate his body and sigh when feel his weight. Your eyes are almost closing, but the way he suddenly stops tells you something is wrong.

“Love”, you say under your breath. “You can put it inside”

One of your hands touches his hip and the other one his cock. You help him, slowly, to line up to your wet hole. A surprised groan escapes Shigaraki’s mouth when he feels with the tip of his cock how wet you are.

“It’s all for you, love”, you promised and he nodded, his eyes devouring you. Again, he wastes no time, slamming his hips against yours, the feeling too good for him to stop.

Shigaraki knows his thrusts aren’t right. His pace is a bit sloppy, but the way he’s filling you up leaves no space for any thought - the only thing you can think of is he.

“This feels so good” he praises and you roll your eyes in delight, almost screaming in response. “Never gonna leave this pussy”

“Love, please, please” you ask, too focused on the moviments he’s doing to think straight. How can he even do things this good?, you ask yourself.

“Please what?”

“Please, let me cum, please!” you whine. “C’mon, please”

“You’re so fucking needy, aren’t you? Looks like a whore”

You moan again when he presses two fingers against your clit and makes precise movements. white dots begin to appear in your vision as your orgasm approaches and Shigaraki's pace increases even more, his hips hitting yours, forcing his own dick deeper and deeper.

“I can’t believe I have been missing this all this time” he almost purrs. “I’m gonna make you all mine, love. Gonna fuck you untill you’re stuffed with my cum”

“Fuck, love, I’m gonna cum” you warn and that seems to be the signal he needs to destroy you.

Shigaraki's free hand forces your legs to open wider, giving him more room to move. His eyes are fixed on you as your eyes roll back and you scream his name, over and over, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure he gives you.

And knowing he can do that to you boosts his ego, makes him not even blink as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Feeling how drenched you are and how your walls are squeezing him, it doesn't take long for Shigaraki to start feeling his own coming orgasm.

He lets you keep moaning as he forces you to take everything inside you. The feel of his heavy body on top of yours, the way his cock is throbbing as he comes and the moans and grunts that escape as he lets his face rest against your neck— it's better than you expected.

Your hands caress the smooth, pale strands of his hair. Shigaraki's breathing is heavy and satisfied as you trail kisses down his face.

"Did you liked it?" he asked shyly.

And well, "shy" is not a common adjective for your boyfriend. But there are many things about Tomura Shigaraki that only you know. Like the sound of his amused laugh or the way he always looks for your body to cuddle in the morning. And the way he refuses to remove the gloves covering his hands since he learned you're something he doesn't want to disintegrate.

Perhaps the way he shows that he loves you may be different than expected - but you know he loves you as much as you love him.

You complete each other in a unique way, and now, feeling how his parched lips try to imitate your kisses across his face, you know.

His gestures of love are implicit, but they are as true as they could be.

You can read other things about Shigaraki here.

[bibblelevi]

Have some silver soul chapter 12 crumbs because you are all my babies. Enjoy anguished Levi and dying reader

He kisses his teeth. His eyes sting. There’s no place for his adrenaline to go, so it pummels him, shredding him from the inside out. It takes every ounce of willpower to swallow the anguished scream building inside his chest. The impending force of it crushes his heart against his ribs, threatens to crack them, disintegrate them. He sinks shaky fingertips into his scalp and pulls. He tears, fighting to return himself to his own physical body.

And then he stops.

There’s a blend of murmured voices from within the room. Laughter. Laughter lighter than parchment, that ebbs through the crack under the door.

The tremble in his hands ease, and he lowers them to his sides, completely still.

He opens the door.

Slowly, he looks to the right, eyes shining. You lay on the ground, cushioned by a rolled out cot, another bundled palette propped beneath your head. Majority of your gear lays in a pile nearby, the towels and wraps on your shoulder soaked red. Your entire sleeve is tattered and also sopping wet with the coppery substance. It makes the room reek.

Onyankopon is crouched beside you, a tiny photograph pinched between his fingers, crumpled from being constantly shifted between pockets.

“Lev’,” you croak. “‘Pon, show… show Levi.”

Onyankopon’s face turns solemn when he sees Levi. The Captain puts on a strong, or rather blank face. There’s something else present under the surface that he can’t quite get a read on.

“Captain,” his smooth baritone carries through the room, “I was just showing her—this is Shelby. My girl back home.”

Levi takes slow, dragging steps, like his ankles are each weighed down by a ball and chain. The gaps in his lungs have combined and turned into a wasteland where not even air can survive. Only burning fire. Only hell. When he looks at you and all the blood, he decides: if he could spend eternity with you, or be punished for what he did, he would choose the latter. He would choose suffering until he wept from the pain. Slice him, burn him, bleed him dry—and he would never ask for forgiveness, never ask for freedom. It’s not what he deserves. It never was.

He blinks, then lets his gaze briefly land on the photo. It’s a black and white picture of a woman with bright teeth and full lips. Her hair looks dark, curled around her ovular face. Only in passing has Onyankopon mentioned a girlfriend back home, but this is the first time Levi’s ever seen what she looks like.

Levi can only manage a short nod at the photo before Onyankopon pockets it.

You reach out, fingers grazing his elbow where the sleeve of his shirt is rolled up. Levi inhales sharply at the sight, until a weak smile finds your lips and blows away any of that misplaced envy.

“T-tell him,” you laugh, “how… h-how you met. Levi— “

“Later,” the Captain interrupts.

Onyankopon’s eyes linger on Levi, as if trying to understand why he finds it so imperative to maintain that mask of indifference. But he comes to no conclusion, and instead says, “I should go notify Commander Hange on our course. You can keep an eye on the Corporal, yeah?”

Levi gives another curt nod. “I can.”

Onyankop returns the gesture and gives your shoulder one final squeeze. You trade smiles, glittery eyes, and brief skin-to-skin, before he rises and leaves the room. The door clicks shut quietly behind him.

Leaving you and Levi alone.

He looks at you longer, from a distance. There’s an invisible shield erected between you, built by his mistake. His terrible, unforgiving mistake. Don’t look at her. Don’t breathe close to her. Don’t touch her.

Your hair is wild, clumped with blood, gravity weighing it past your jaw. There’s blood splatter on your skin and down your neck, melted into your fingerprints and nail beds, too. Blinding self-loathing shapeshifts into despair, a newer, uglier second skin.

“Tell me… what happened.” Every word, every breath is a battle. You strain to speak. Strain to even look at him, afraid that if your eyes close, you’ll get too comfortable in the dark.

He gives himself one single second to blink away all the blood and the painful expressions and the soul-shattering, underlying knowing in the room. A blink of pretending you’re okay. Your skin dewy, your smile bright. No bags under your eyes, no blood under your nails. You smell like soap and spring. You sound like rain and grating thunder, and the lightning shocks a millennia of new life into your veins.

He comes back to the bleakness of the moment and stomachs what he knows to be true. Tiredly, he shakes his head, then he lowers himself onto his knees.

“Rest, for now,” he tells you.

You don’t fight him. Your eyes are cloudy and distant, devoid of that brightness you’ve lacked for years now.

“Can I… Can I close my eyes?”

“Yes. Yes, you can close them. But only if you swear on your life you’ll open them again.”

You barely nod, relieved by how close the sound of his voice is.

Eyes closed, you cry, “It hurts.”

“I know it hurts,” his voice cracks, and it no longer sounds like his own.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I hurt you. I did this to you. I gave you a painful death.

“Come here.” He maneuvers your limp frame with careful hands, his legs straddled to make an open slot for your body. Your back sinks into his frontside, and he wriggles an arm beneath yours so he can clamp down on the bandages. You hiss at the pressure, teeth grinding. “I’m sorry,” he breathes into your ear, “I’m sorry. I know. But I have to.”

You shake your head. If your body weren’t giving up on you, your heart would be pounding out of your chest from the proximity: his dry lips tickling your ear, the entire side of his face pressed against yours, his arms wrapped around you like a lover. You wonder if Onyankopon and his love sit like this together.

[wandsandwheezes]

Ares | F.W

WARNINGS // 1.8k // SMUT 18+, Ares!Fred AU, God!Fred AU, Unprotected Sex, Degradation, Overstimulation, Aggression, Shouting, Anger, basically PWP but there’s a lil plot.

A/N // Hi so, unfortunately I got inspired and this is the result whoopsie, basically me and @darthwheezely​ are hoes xoxo I don’t normally write Fred stuff.... but here we are so enjoy.

Ares is the god of war, one of the Twelve Olympian Gods and the son of Zeus and Hera. In literature Ares represents the violent and physical untamed aspect of war. Although Ares embodied the physical aggression necessary for success in war, the Greeks were ambivalent toward him because he was a dangerous, overwhelming force that was insatiable in battle.

–

You knew he was mad, from just the way he had stormed back past you, ignoring the glimmer of hope in your eyes as he continued his pursuit to the grand hall. You daren’t try to stop him, not when his skin was hot from fury and rage, instead you decided on letting him cool down, to no avail. Soon after his arrival home, all that could be heard was the loud clambering of chalices and dishes as he threw them in anger, the barrelling sound of his voice as clear as day as it echoed around every hall of your home.

Perhaps he needed distraction, although you feared he did not want to see you, you were adamant that you being there would do him some good in stilling the fury that bubbled inside of him.

You had attempted to pass the guards who were currently protesting against you going to see Fred, standing protectively in front of the wide-open entrance. These two burly protectors were the only thing that stood between you and your lover and that thought alone made you smile nonchalantly at the two guards, pushing past them quicker than they could stop you and protest.

You had just made it up the small set of stairs just in time for you to see yet another metal platter clamber against the once pristine wall, the beautifully prepared food disintegrating to shreds as it collided with the stone. His back was the first thing you saw, rippling muscles prominent through the thin veil of the purple cloak that covered one of his arms. You cleared your throat, a small voice practically whispering his name to draw his attention to you. “Freddie?”

“Little rose...You look glorious.” His tone of voice had shifted cleanly from the gravelly yells to the affectionate hum he had when he had set his eyes on you. The white chiffon draped sensually across your body, the delicate material struggling to keep your breasts from spilling while every curve of your body lay in wait, begging to be grasped. Your hair, while out of your face, had curled beautifully down your back, flecks of gold leaf and rose petals scattered across your locks.

With his eyes fixed on you and you alone, you made the choice to close the gap between the two of you. With every step towards him you took in his sweat covered chest and biceps, wanting nothing more than for him to wrap his strong arms around you, to hold his attention for just enough time for his anger to fade.

“You may be mine, but yet you flaunt yourself around the walls in that pathetic material for all to see.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his veiny hand reaching up to tug enough at the material for it to fall, exposing your chest for him, his aide and the various servants that were scattered around the hall, mostly trying to clear the path of distraction that Fred had caused. 

“Leave us.” He spoke quickly, eyes not moving from the way they were fixated on yours, his fingertips ghosting over your shoulder and down your arm, lips inches away from each other. The soft breeze that flowed through the room had the fabric swaying as it hung at your hips, the faint chill of the air hardened your nipples as you stood before him.

“Truly, you’re so pathetic, aren’t you, petal?” His hot touch was tilting your chin up enough for him to control your movements. His lips trailing faint whispers of kisses down your neck, rendering you breathless, speechless and craving him entirely.

“Speak when spoken to, pet.” He growled, his vice-like grip on your jaw tightening, pushing your lips in a pout as you attempted to speak the words you needed through shaky breaths.

“I-I’m your pathetic girl, Freddie.” 

“That’s right, you are.” He was now hoisting you up effortlessly, large hands gripping possessively at your thighs as he adjusted the way you sat on his hips. As soon as he sat back against his throne, your knees were pushed further apart so that you could straddle him, his hands moving to keep you pulled in close to him, your hands messily holding onto his neck to steady yourself.

His touch alone had you seeking the relief your aching cunt was screaming out for, hips moving in the hopes of just a fraction of pleasure as your swollen clit dragged across layers of smooth fabric.

“Little one, what do you think you’re doing there, hm?” He tutted, a hand immediately finding the coils of hair, disrupting the rhythm of your moving hips and the intricately placed style of your hair. His harsh grip tugged away at the curls, displaying your neck for him.

“First you whore yourself out for everyone’s eyes, now you think you can sit there and get yourself off, did I say you could do that?” He snarled, lingering fingertips bruising your thighs as he stilled your movements with heated touch.

“N-No, Fred, ‘m sorry.” You whimpered, knowing that you were pushing your luck when it came to Fred’s temperance with anger. He would more often than not subject you to bear the brunt of his frustrations, his loathsome anger that overcame him as he dominated you. He wanted you to know that he was the God here, and that any other man for miles would kill to be him.

“Count yourself lucky I’m not parading you outside and showing every man and woman of this village just who makes you feel so good.” He chuckled, letting go of your hair, your upper body crashing down against his chest as his hands bunched up the pooling fabric at your thighs, shifting your hips to sit directly over what you needed from him the most.

“You’d like that though, bet you’d have preferred my aide stay watch us rut like breeding bunnies, isn’t that right, Jewel?” He was pulling himself free, letting his hard cock spring free. 

You found yourself nodding, at a loss for words as he teased your entrance, daring to push in with antagonistic flare. He wanted to have you begging for every inch, even if that took hours on end.

“Speechless already, youngling?” He smirked his mind tugged edge to edge with a passionate need to fill you. The second his cockhead has pushed past your entrance, you found yourself hissing.

“Don’t tease me, Freddie.”

“I don’t think you’re in a good position to be giving me orders here, little rose.”

“But I-” You went to protest, instead you were met with his hand wrapped around your throat, firm grip against your windpipe as he brought your lips down to his in a tempered kiss.

“Who’s in charge, say it nice and loud for me.”

“You, Fred.” You whined, his hand still wrapped around your throat, instead of praising you he squeezed a little harder and whispered as his lips grazed against your cheek.

“Louder, let those guards standing outside hear you.”

“You Fred, you’re in charge.” You hissed out, feeling himself pull your hips down to sheath fully inside you. He didn’t need to tease you anymore as he set a godly rhythm, fucking up into you with all the force and might entrusted in him.

Sex with Fred was like being in the clouds, he was able to send you into a state of euphoria every single time but you were greedy, taking every girthy inch he could give you, yet you begged for more. He simply would chuckle and oblige, giving you release after release that had you screaming and clawing at his back. You could handle it, especially the way he would have you a brainless mess so quickly.

He had you now bent over the nearest table he could get you pressed on, ass on full display for him as he pushed himself inside you once more, his cock filling you to the hilt over and over again, his thrusts rocking the creaky table loudly as lewd moans spilled from your lips, the sound mixing perfectly with his deep grunts of passion.

“Mine. All fucking mine.” He groaned, like a chant, repeating it again and again, hands pulling your hips back to meet his thrusts with a bruising touch as he claimed you for what you already were; his.

Everyone surely knew by now who was fucking you, who was causing you to scream out for him as you begged him not to stop, your stamina hardly touched as you craved another release.

This time he had you up against the stone wall, back pressed firmly against the harsh gravelly texture as he hooked a leg up on his hip, taking you as his forehead pressed against yours, you had both hardly removed any of the material that covered your bodies, instead working with the fabric until it flowed together in the open breeze.

“You want more, petal? I’ll give you fucking everything.” He moaned out for you, your hands cupping his jaw as your eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy, unable to stop the wave of pleasure that coursed through every inch of your body. You couldn’t count the releases you had endured but you didn’t want him to stop. 

He had pushed you over the edge twice more before his own seed was released inside you, completely overwhelmed by the feeling. The way his hips stuttered and stilled before feeling his silky release mixed with yours dripping down your thigh, made you realise that he was more than just a God, he was your God and you were the luckiest woman in all to bed him at your desire.

“I love you, my radiant Goddess.” He murmured, nose brushing against yours as he cradled you into his arms, letting your breathing steady and your mind return back to him as his hands massaged over every roughly gripped inch of your skin.

You loved him too, more than he would ever be able to comprehend.

“What had you so mad, Freddie?” You whispered, reaching up to run a hand through his sweaty hair, smiling up at him lovingly. 

“Someone dared call you an easy whore, I had to show them that nobody calls you a whore but me, pet.” 

“Is that so?” You poked, leaning up to press your lips to his, the kiss lingering in entangled lips for a moment before his aide had burst into the room, forcing you to snap your head to look at the man who had coughed, Fred’s hands came to turn your body into face his, lifting the flimsy material to cover you and protect your modesty upon the intrusion.

“Sorry to disturb, but there’s an urgent matter with your Fa–” his aide spoke quickly, eyes avoiding Fred’s out of awkwardness.

“Tell my Father to go fuck himself, I’m busy.”

“Fred, don’t do that for me–”

“I’m busy, now go.” He spat, ignoring your protest, eyes following his aide as he scurried off hurriedly.

“Now where were we?” He smirked, tilling your chin up again before pressing his lips to yours again. 

“Ah, right here it seems.”

taglist //  @pansydaisy​ @feetoffthetablee​ @darthwheezely​ @http-caitwo​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @loony-loopy-lupinn​ @theweasleytwinsgirl​ @pandaxnienke​ @turtletaylor98​ @lumos-barnes​ @lumosandnoxwriting​ @amxrtentias​

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T for language and mild medical drama

Warnings: Typical Vampire shenanigans

Genre: Hurt + comfort

Summary: Bela is somewhat unprepared to deal with a soulmate who has no clue about her condition, her family, or any of the village's secrets. Thankfully, her sister Cassandra is more than willing to be a bad example. Also there's some fluff.

Notes: For reference, each of my soulmate stories take place in their own contained timeline, since they each involve different types of soulmates. So in this one, Cass doesn't currently have a soulmate.

Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow

2: Tangled Strands

A gentle humming fills the space around you, as fingers slowly run through your hair. As far as you can tell you had fallen back asleep, for several hours, and you were just now waking back up. No longer holding you down, your soulmate is curled up next to you. There’s still a needle in your arm, much to your irritation, but now you can finally see what it’s connected to: An IV for a transfusion. Explains why I’m feeling so much better than before, you think. Then you’re turning your head to the other side, eager to finally get a good look at your soulmate. Instantly you’re blushing, tongue tying itself into a knot, because wow are you lucky.

“Feeling any better?” She asked, as soon as your gaze met hers. You try to stutter out a confirmation, but you’re too distracted by the soft curve of her smile to speak, and barely even manage a nod. That beautiful smile grows wider in response. “Good. I couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering more, after what you’ve already been through.” Now her smile fades, and she looks away for a few moments. Watching it makes your heart ache. So you swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself to relax, before trying a little comforting of your own.

“I am safe now, am I not? Moreso, we have too much to talk about for us to dwell on the ill circumstances of our introduction. Let us cherish this time, in respite, with our hearts open wide to one another,” you said, donning your softest smile. Somehow your words fulfill their purpose, and your soulmate is once again grinning. Slowly she leans forward to rest her forehead against yours. Then she’s speaking, voice as smooth as the sheets you lay on.

“You are right, of course. I simply wish I could have saved you sooner,” she replied, tone betraying the sadness that her expression otherwise hid. Before you can protest, she continues talking, and you soon forget all about your qualms. “To think I don’t even know your name yet… nor you mine, I suppose. Let’s remedy that, yes? I am Bela Dimitrescu.” Something about her last name feels familiar to you, but not to the point of clear recognition. Instead of inquiring, you return her favor, giving her your own name. She repeats it back a few times, letting the syllables roll off her tongue, and you feel your heart skip a few beats. “A lovely name for a lovely soul, perfectly paired.”

A pause, followed by Bela reaching out to examine your IV. Following her gaze, you turn to the metal hook adjacent to the bed, where a blood bag hangs. Only a few drops remain inside. Just as when you first awoke, Bela gives a soft hum, then rises into a sitting position. Your first instinct is to copy the motion, and you’re relieved when (this time) she doesn’t push you back down. Both of you quietly inch your hands closer until they’re laid on top of each other.

“I wish I knew more about medicine, but unfortunately my family is more experienced in the creation of wounds than the treatment of them,” Bela said, scowling. Confused, you tilt your head at a slight angle, watching her with interest. Am I supposed to know who she’s referring to? My memories of the past couple days are still hazy, you think. “Do… do you remember how you ended up in the dungeon? I know you wanted to speak of happier things, and we can, soon. It’s just… Knowing how you arrived here may help me deal with the consequences of freeing you. Mother will be dreadfully upset that I’ve interrupted a draining, even if we are soulmates.”

“Wait, are you saying…? The intimidating giantess who strung me up and attempted to bleed me dry… is your mother?” You asked, jaw nearly dropping to the floor. This was an unexpected development, for sure.

“You didn’t know?” Bela replied, eyes going wide for a moment. Clearly she wouldn’t have said anything if she realized you weren’t already aware. Suddenly the tension in the room is palpable, with an uncomfortable silence overtaking the two of you. In the moment, you cannot even bring yourself to look at Bela, too stunned by this new knowledge. Eventually she breaks the silence, voice sounding unsure for once. “I realize that this is a lot to take in, if you need time to process it, I… I can go. But you need to understand that our situation is far more complicated than it might appear. We cannot survive without the blood of others- it is what sustains us when nothing else can.”

Now you’re staring at her like she’s crazy, and she’s standing up, moving to the other side of the room. She draws back a curtain, gazing out into the snow covered hills. Every muscle in your body is urging you to run while she’s distracted. Thread of fate be damned, this went far beyond anything you had ever imagined having to deal with. You come so close to ripping the IV right out of your arm. But a gentle tug on your soul string makes you pause, remembering all the times this bond gave you hope in dark times. Had she felt the same way, all these years? What had she gone through, in this absurd castle, on the very edges of civilization? You pull on the red thread, feeling a wave of composure wash over you.

“It appears there is much I need to learn. But is that not the very nature of our connection? We know, simply, that we are bound to each other, though we know not what shapes our souls take so that we might put them together, nor even what roles we must play. I cannot say that I understand your plight, my dear, but I will try, as is my obligation, and my honor,” you said, wishing you could hold her, and cursing your IV. As soon as the first word leaves your mouth, Bela is turning around, watching you with a bittersweet expression. Once you’re done she’s moving closer, as if reading your mind, extending a hand to cup your cheek. Then she leans forward to press a brief kiss to your forehead. “Oh, how I have longed for this- to be with you, to get to know you.”

“As did I,” she murmured. You can’t help but lean into her touch, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment. “Perhaps I should introduce you to my family? I imagine you’ll be needing breakfast anyway, and bringing human food back to my quarters would raise more suspicion than I’d like.” Well, the moment couldn’t last forever, could it?

“Only if you promise that your mother won’t suspend me by my wrists again. Or by any other part of me. Shall we simply put suspension off the table altogether?” You asked, half teasing. To be entirely honest, you were equally worried about Bela’s sisters. Well, the people you had heard other prisoners whispering about, who were the daughters of the giantess, and by connecting a few dots were also, presumably, Bela’s sisters. Apparently they preferred to play with their food. Unless, of course, Bela was one of the daughters you had heard about, and would have easily torn into you if not for your connection. Let’s not dwell on that concept, you think, glad to be distracted by your soulmate.

“I will not let anyone harm you anymore, my beloved. My mother would not stand so firmly in the way of my happiness,” Bela reassured, though you detected a hint of uncertainty in her tone. Still, there wasn’t much you could do other than trust her. “Now, let me take care of your bandages, then we’ll head downstairs…”

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

“Who the fuck is this?” An unfamiliar voice asked, as you meandered down the corridor, arm around Bela for support. As soon as she hears the person speak, your soulmate is freezing in place, casting a worried glance over her shoulder. When you turn as well, you spot someone dressed almost identically to Bela. However, the woman wears a yellow pendant, as opposed to a red one, and her hair is a dark brown. It feels safe to assume that she’s one of the sisters you’ve heard about. Which understandably makes you nervous, to the point where you almost want to hide behind Bela. Instead, you stand tall, attempting to seem unfazed by either her presence or her vulgarity.

“Mind your manners, Cassandra,” Bela hissed, taking more of an aggressive stance than you had anticipated. “This, dear sister, is my soulmate. And if you even think about harming them, or getting in our way, I will tear you apart.” While you’re downright shocked at the intensity of Bela’s statement, her sister doesn’t look at all impressed, and eyes you with minimal interest. Better than looking at you with hatred, right? Apparently not, as Bela moves to stand between the two of you, eyes narrowed. There’s a clear stiffness in her posture that leaves you anxious. Cassandra seems to notice it as well, and laughs, before taking a few steps in your direction. Then your soulmate mimics the movement, forcing you to do so as well.

“They’re human,” Cassandra snapped, pausing to sniff the air and scowl. “Here I thought your soulmate would have to be special, if they’re to compare to your ego. You’re disappointed, aren’t you? Having to settle for this.” With that she shifts, flesh writhing, making your stomach churn as you watch her disintegrate into a cloud of… flies? What the hell is wrong with this family? Can Bela do that too? I hope not, you think. Soon you’re pulled from your thoughts, however, as the swarm circles around you, single insects occasionally surging forward to cut at your skin. But Bela is grabbing you by the sleeve and tugging you to her chest, moving against a wall so that her body shielded your own. Your eyes clamp shut as you shake in her arms. When the buzzing stops, it is quickly replaced with cruel laughter. “That fragile, hmm? I can’t wait to see what mother thinks. See you at breakfast, sister!”

Then the two of you are alone, still pressed against the wall, staying still until the sound of footsteps fade. You’re stunned, unsure of how to react. The fact that a few drops of blood roll down your cheek only makes things worse. Still, Bela managed to prevent you from getting too hurt, and the few wounds on your body are negligible. Ever filled with gratitude, you hold her close as you try to stutter out a few sentences.

“Is she always this hostile, or am I truly not what you had expected? No, pay me no mind, it hardly matters. Thank you for protecting me,” you whispered. In response, Bela gives you a little squeeze, then pulls back enough to wipe the blood from your face. There’s a hint of something odd in her expression, which you interpret to be related to her apparent ‘need for blood’. Thankfully, she is in perfect control, and does not frenzy the same way you had read about fictional vampires doing. But she does hesitate, words dying on her tongue, like there are a thousand things she wants to say, and no words to say them with. “It’s alright, my dear. Let’s just go to breakfast, like we planned, and hope your sister behaves better when supervised.”

Bela nods, quickly, before taking your hand in her own. Whatever awaited you in the dining room, the two of you would be ready. Hopefully.

[brown-little-robin]

29: Metropolis

part one | previous | next | masterlist | ao3

Joseph’s living room has green walls, a pink rug, paintings and photographs—mostly of people Thad doesn't know—on the walls, and pillows on the floor. Bright colors are everywhere. The bedroom, blue and grey, is more sedate. Thad is grateful for that.

Thad retreated to Joseph’s bedroom as politely as possible. To make up for his no-doubt rude demand to be alone for a while. So much for impressing Joseph with my good manners, he thinks wryly. Ugh. But he had to get away. The eye contact, the vulnerability of laying out exactly how Joseph could hurt him… the uncomfortable feeling of that giant window looking out on the Metropolis skyline… it was all too much.

Thad’s suitcase is just where he put it, at the foot of Joseph’s bed. He kneels in front of it and unzips it. He brought his entire Sherlock Holmes collection. He picks up The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and begins to read.

He’s too agitated to concentrate. Thad sets the book down and sighs.

Some kind of machine is humming in the background. It sounds a little like one of the noises CRAYDL used to make with the computers. Thad keeps remembering and forgetting that the sound exists.

There's a clunk, and the hum stops. Thad flinches.

He touches his throat. His heart’s beating fast. Fear, he realizes. His body is feeling fear. Strange. His mind is fine, except for not being able to concentrate.

He really wants to take out the soft little stuffed seal that Helen got him, but he doesn’t want Joseph to think of him as too much of a child. So he just sticks his hand deep in the suitcase, fumbles around in the clothes until he finds the seal buried under his clothes, and squeezes it. For a while, it keeps the panic at bay. Then, reluctantly, he lets go.

He takes his phone from the top pocket. He goes to “contacts”, selects “Morlo”, and dials.

Stupid, clunky, piece-of-trash equipment. Thad hates the phone and all the guilt that comes with it. But he wants to hear a familiar voice.

It rings and keeps ringing. Thad waits, biting his lip. He worries that maybe it’s rude to call someone while he’s in Joseph’s apartment. Maybe he should have asked permission.

“Hello?” Morlo’s gruff voice barks.

Thad smiles.

“Morlo,” he says, and he hates that he sounds so relieved.

“Thad?”

“That’s right.”

“Hah!” Morlo barks. “Well it’s a good thing I decided to answer on the first go. If I ever don’t answer, just keep calling until I get fed up, all right, boy?”

“All right,” Thad says, still grinning like an idiot. He can feel his body relaxing. Morlo is so easy to talk to.

“Why’d you call?”

Thad hesitates. He’s only quiet for a second, but Morlo notices.

“Are you alright? If not, I can shoot someone, no problem.”

Thad laughs a little. “I’m fine. Just… I don’t know. My stupid body’s freaking out about nothing again.”

“Freaking out how?”

“It’s not important,” Thad says, embarrassed that he even brought it up. And Joseph might overhear, and… Thad knows Joseph is going to have to know about all of Thad’s issues sooner or later, but he doesn’t want it to be this way, by overhearing an illicit phone conversation.

Morlo growls, “Thaddeus Free, I am your doctor. Tell me.”

“I’m just scared, okay?” Thad snaps. “I called because I couldn’t calm down.”

A pause.

“Have you talked to Max about that?”

“I’m not with Max,” Thad reminds Morlo.

A longer pause. Thad strains his ears, but he can’t tell what Joseph is doing at all.

“Do you have a place to stay?” Morlo asks. “And do not say you’ll be fine in your lair because I will end you if you think you’re going back there.”

Did Morlo not get told about the Joseph Wilson thing?! Does Morlo think—

Thad hisses, “I didn’t run away! I’m staying with Joseph Wilson! Max brought me here!”

Morlo groans, long and eloquent.

“Don’t scare me like that, kid! I thought the Flash must’ve done something to you! I was ready to get my disintegration gun and go kill Max!”

“Sorry!” Thad gasps, and he finds himself laughing. If Joseph hears him—Joseph must hear him—he must be wondering—!

Thad doubles over with laughter and finds his body seizing up, terror threading its way through his laughter like a squid’s ink through water. His heart is hammering; he’s breathing hard and fast, he’s still laughing and it’s loud and he can’t stop. He can’t stop.

Hyperventilation, his brain tells him unhelpfully. Breathe slowly.

Slowly. He can’t do that. When Thad slows down, bad things happen to him. Lightning sizzles along his arms and makes his eyes sting; he’s pulling on the speed force, his whole body crackling with power. The laws of his existence say that if he slows down, he’ll be ripped apart. But he’s going to rip himself apart if he stays so fast.

It takes a monumental effort. It takes three tries. It takes thinking Morlo is expecting me. But Thad lets go of the speed force.

“Thad,” Morlo’s voice says. Thad finds that he’s clutching the phone with both hands. “Breathe.”

Thad manages to gasp “I can’t—”

“In,” Morlo commands, in such a strong voice that Thad instantly wants to obey. “Count of four. One… two… three… four.”

Thad tries to breathe in, and to his own surprise, it works. He’s still kind of choking, but he manages to get a lot of air in his lungs.

“Out. One… two… three… four.”

Thad breathes out noisily so that Morlo can hear him.

“In. One… two… three… four.”

Thad obeys. He concentrates on breathing for Morlo and lets everything else leave his awareness. Morlo’s voice gets less harsh as Thad’s breathing evens out.

“Last time. Out. One… two… three… four… good. Good job.”

Thad shudders. He likes earning Morlo’s praise, but he wishes he could be praised for impressive things again, not fighting his own body. Breathing. The bare minimum of being an alive human being.

Where did Morlo even learn to do that?

It’s all quiet for a while. Joseph is still out in the living room; Thad is alone in the bedroom between the bed and the wall. He leans his head back against the wall and breathes slowly.

That was a panic attack, his brain informs him. With the same level of importance, it tells him the blue paint on the nightstand is flaking. It’s a duller blue underneath.

Thad unsticks the phone from his sweaty cheek. He wipes the phone and his face with the bedsheet and then leans back against the wall.

His chest is sore. That’s not right. His hypermetabolism should take care of that in a fraction of a second. Is this psychosomatic? But he doesn’t want to be sick.

He remembers that he has a speedster specialist on the line. Well… while he has Morlo, he should take the opportunity to ask.

“My chest hurts. Is it physically possible for a speedster to have muscle pain that lasts this long?”

“How long has it hurt?”

“It didn’t hurt before I panicked.”

“Huh,” Morlo grunts. “Best guess? Hypermetabolism prioritizes the worst injuries. A bruise might stick around because your arm is broken. Your hypermetabolism is probably busy.”

Oh. Thad is a bit offended that Morlo thinks he’d hide an injury from him. He tries so hard to be good.

“I’m not injured. I would tell you.”

Despite his best efforts, he sounds hurt.

“I know. Your metabolism’s probably busy trying to fix your neurotransmitters and adrenaline and stuff. I’m not a brain specialist, Thad, I don’t know.”

Oh, good, Morlo doesn’t think he’s lying. …Wait!

“Are you saying my hypermetabolism is going to stop working every time I have a panic attack?” Thad demands.

“It could,” Morlo says.

“Great,” Thad hisses. “I get to be insane and have my healing break when I panic. That’s just wonderful.”

“Could be a good sign,” Morlo counters. “If your body thought you were in physical danger, you wouldn’t lose your healing. It would be trying to keep you alive.”

Huh. Actually, that makes sense. So his body knows he’s not in danger of his life now, but it still makes him panic?

“Interesting. Still sucks.”

“Yep.”

“A fat lot of help you are,” Thad says, and sighs.

“Shut up, you,” Morlo says, and Thad knows he’s forgiven.

A moment of silence goes by. Then Morlo speaks again.

“You want to hear about my new leeches?”

“Absolutely.”

Anything to get Thad’s mind off of recent events.

“They’re hybrids of medicinal leeches with Tamaranean Starkiller worms, and they have gills, sixty to a hundred twenty segments, and seven legs.”

“Is it technically a worm if it has legs?” Thad asks.

“Yes it is. Look up Australian velvet worms.”

Thad grumbles wordlessly. Keep talking. Please, Morlo, keep talking.

“They have seven legs. The extra one is a useless quirk I don’t know how to get rid of yet.”

“Did you cross the worms?” Thad asks.

“Yes, but if anyone asks, they’re mutant medicinal leeches. I like ‘em because their ink stores electricity. Like a battery, but with higher capacity.”

“Oh, like the neurowire in my VR headsets,” Thad recognizes.

“The what?”

“Neurowire. It’s wire insulated with vermifluid capsules around it which store electricity in case of a power outage and regulate the flow of information through the wire.”

“What are the capsules made of?!” Morlo demands. “I can’t manage to store the stinking fluid, it vaporizes in two days!”

“Poly… vascular… uh… I don’t know the English words for it. In Interlac it’s ‘lalow boruburda ouboriam’ta’.”

“Could you draw the symbols?”

“Sure, but I don’t know if the Interlac chemical symbols will translate.”

“We’ll have to try next time you visit,” Morlo says.

A brief silence.

“Thad,” Morlo says, quiet and serious. “I want you to come at least every few months. I know you’re hyperdecelerated, but even normal clones can deteriorate very fast with few outward symptoms. With your metabolism, I don't want to take any chances.”

Thad feels sick.

“I know,” he says calmly.

“And you can call me any time. Any time, got it? If you have symptoms, I want to hear about it. Even if it turns out it’s just PTSD. But—”

“I’m sorry,” Thad blurts out.

“It’s fine, kid.”

An uncomfortable pause.

Morlo says gruffly, “I’m not angry at you. I’m glad I could help. But if you’re scared, call someone you know will answer first. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good. Do you need to go?”

“…Probably…”

Thad really doesn’t want to. He wants to stay here and listen to Morlo talk about his experiments longer. But if Joseph heard any of that, and Thad is willing to bet that he did… Thad needs to do damage control.

“Right. Good luck with this Wilson character.”

Thad snorts. This Wilson character. Morlo makes him sound like some kind of thug.

“He’s okay.”

“He’d better be,” Morlo growls. “You just call me if he’s not.”

“And you’ll bring your disintegration gun, I know,” Thad says, smiling wearily. “I got it. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

The phone beeps.

Thad clicks the phone closed and puts it back in the suitcase. Then he stands and stretches. His chest still hurts. Oh well. His heart isn’t hammering so hard anymore. He’d better get this over with.

He stands with his hand on the doorknob for a long time before he actually musters the courage to open it.

Joseph Wilson is painting a sleeping wolf in a cross-section of a den. Well, actually, he's sketching it with a pencil, but he already has an apron on. He looks up as Thad opens the door, and he smiles.

Thad looks away, feeling small and dirty and unworthy of that beautiful smile. When he remembers to look up, Joseph has set the pencil down and clasped his hands loosely in front of his apron. Listening.

Thad’s mind goes blank.

Joseph signs, “Want anything?”

“No, I just… wanted to say…”

Joseph signs, “You called someone?”

Thank you, thank you. “Yes. My… a friend. Is that allowed?”

Joseph signs “Of course!”

“Okay.”

Joseph signs, “Would you like to go out for a walk? The weather is cool now.”

Thad’s immediate reaction is no! I need to be alone!

But then he considers it, and he thinks… maybe that’s a good idea. This apartment, colorful and unfamiliar and full of things Joseph loves, is making Thad feel… so… alien. It would probably be better to be outside for a while.

“Sure,” Thad says.

Joseph takes off his apron and goes to get changed into warm-weather clothes. Thad puts on a t-shirt and shorts and sandals. He follows Joseph out the door, down four flights of stairs, and out of the apartment.

They stop on the sidewalk. The sky is dappled with clouds, light and dark, fading into each other, shifting. A cool wet wind stirs Thad’s hair. The sidewalk is wide and surrounded by grass. Tall buildings surround them; down the street, Thad can see the huge globe of the Daily Planet tower. He recognizes it as the landmark that could tell him where he is in the world: Metropolis, New Jersey, where he should be wary of the Kryptonians who have declared this city under their protection, who are fast enough that they could possibly kill him if they caught him off guard.

…huh. Thad’s not in danger from Kryptonians anymore. If Superman saw him here in his shorts and t-shirt and sandals, he’d think he was a normal boy. Thad is a citizen now. Soon, hopefully, he’ll be a citizen of Metropolis—and therefore under the protection of not one but two Kryptonians.

No one has ever protected Thad before.

Thad grins.

There’s a tree every so often, and a few people are out… a mother with a stroller, a man smoking a cigarette, a man with a package, two children with sticks they’re using to color on the sidewalk, a runner with earbuds in, panting as she passes them. Thad draws back from her.

Joseph starts walking, heading toward the heart of the city. Thad follows. He wishes there weren’t so many people around, but it’s nice anyway. Everything is so big—the buildings, the trees, the roads. So tall.

Joseph stops at a street corner and signs, “Would you like to go to a park?”

“Sure,” Thad says, and smiles, because he feels like he should.

Joseph smiles back.

They walk past a lot of apartments and something called The Metropolis Symphony House. Joseph stops to point it out.

“Do you like classical music?” he signs.

Thad answers honestly that he doesn’t know. Joseph looks thoughtful.

“I’ll have to introduce you to it.”

Thad shrugs. “I’m willing to try,” he says. Then he goes back to looking at the trees and the buildings and the sky. And sometimes at Joseph.

Thad doesn’t really understand Joseph. He never knows what Joseph is thinking or planning; he gets the feeling that Joseph doesn’t really strategize at all, not like Max does, anyway. All he can get from Joseph are pure feelings. Empathy. Happiness. Concern.

While walking, Joseph looks down at Thad regularly. Thad pretends not to be looking at him for a while, then realizes that that’s deceptive and allows Joseph to see Thad looking at him.

Their eyes meet. Somehow, it’s not terrifying, even though Thad can feel Joseph considering him.

He wonders if Joseph might have some form of hypnosis. To make people trust him. Maybe. But… Joseph is no danger to Thad. Unfamiliar, yes. Conceptually intimidating, yes. But actually frightening? No. Not when Thad is looking at him. He can’t be afraid of him, not while looking at his gentle sea-green eyes.

And, again, Thad wonders: is it hypnosis, or does he actually trust this man?

Joseph gestures Thad to come to the side of the sidewalk so they can stop and talk. Joseph doesn’t sign much while he’s walking; it would be awkward for Thad to have to walk in front of him to read his hands.

“You seem more comfortable outside,” Joseph signs.

“Yeah,” Thad says, uncomfortably aware that he had a panic attack in Joseph’s bedroom for no reason. “Sorry. I don’t know why.”

Joseph smiles, not unkindly.

“You’re a speedster,” he signs, quick and easy. “Wide open spaces are good for you.”

“Oh,” Thad says, and considers that. “Maybe. I spent most of my life in a box underground, though, so I don’t think the enclosed space is a problem.”

Joseph cocks his head, interested.

“Maybe it’s being somewhere new,” he signs.

“Maybe…” Thad thinks out loud. “I always had so much time to adjust to everything. Six hundred years I spent in my lair… I was in VR a lot, so I have experience of a lot of different places, but I ran every single simulation dozens of times until I got it perfectly, and a lot of the runthroughs were just to get used to the environment…”

“Six hundred years?” Joseph signs, eyes wide.

Thad flinches. He forgot Joseph didn’t know that!

“I—yes,” he stammers. “It’s called hyperdeceleration, it’s not—”

Joseph puts his finger to his own lips. Thad falls silent.

Joseph kneels, putting himself on eye level with Thad. He ignores the woman walking next to them who gives him a strange look. He looks remorseful.

“You don’t have to tell me about it right now. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Thad says. And he does forgive Joseph, even though he doesn’t know exactly what Joseph is apologizing for.

Joseph signs “Thank you.”

Thad twists his wrist, silent. Joseph stands and keeps walking, checking on Thad a bit more frequently now.

They go into a shopping district full of beautiful shops. There’s one shop just for chocolate, a whole place for sandwiches, lots of stores that Joseph says are coffee shops, lots of clothing stores with weird items in the windows. The buildings are all ornate and enormous. Everything is so big here, so unlike tiny Manchester. Thad would love to look at the shops and puzzle over the window displays all day, except there are so many people here and he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it when they look at him. He’ll be fine; he sticks close to Joseph and no one bothers them, but it’s a little bit intimidating.

He keeps accidentally pulling on the speed force, alerted by various things: a crow bursting into flight a few feet away, the wail of a siren, someone shouting into her phone… and each time he pulls on the speed force, he has to hastily slow down so that—hopefully—no one notices. Thad is glad to get back into a residential area after that, where he can look at all the different houses in relative peace.

There are so many different kinds of houses. Thad has never noticed before how many different kinds of houses there are. Every single one is unique. When he was in cities for his training, he never looked at the houses individually. It would have been useless.

He likes the ones with stones in the gardens, and he likes big windows. He likes the dark blue houses and the creamy one with a black roof. He likes fountains and sculptures, but not the garish plastic things. He really likes a garden with purple flowers, so many of them, running up the side of the house and mingling with little white flowers in the grass. As they get closer, Thad sees that there are three kinds: tiny purple flowers with pale hearts, which grow in the grass; large purple bells with long stems and ruffled petals; and a profusion of little sprays of purple on the vines all over the house.

He looks up at Joseph to point it out and finds Joseph already smiling in delight. They stop in wordless agreement to stare at it.

“Why doesn’t every house have this many flowers?” Thad asks.

Joseph laughs silently. Thad frowns at him.

“No, I’m serious. Why?”

Joseph tilts his head thoughtfully.

“People think it looks better to have neat grass,” he signs. “And people can fit in more easily if they conform.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Thad says. “What a waste of good land.”

Joseph looks surprised. Then he smiles like he’s recognizing something.

“You should meet Starfire,” he signs. “She thinks the same thing.”

Thad doesn’t know of any Starfire. It sounds like she’s a vigilante, from the name. Hm. He hadn’t thought of this… that he’d have to meet Joseph’s friends.

That… could be too much of a challenge. With Thad’s aversion to touch, his Thawne-bred fear and aggression… he barely holds himself together with one person. If he has to meet lots of strangers, it could go wrong. He could seriously hurt someone. Or he could get himself hurt. Not everyone in this world can be as strangely nice as Max and Helen and Joseph. And there are so many ways to hurt Thad.

Well, he’ll survive it. If worst comes to worst, he can always run away for a while. Now that he won’t be living with a speedster.

They walk on. Thad runs his hand along a fence and laughs at the tink tink tink of his fingers hitting each pole.

The park has a plaza with a giant metal sculpture, a gleaming pile of interwoven tubes, and a fountain. Below the plaza is a big grassy area, with a set of wooden towers and metal slides on a woodchip-floored area. The grassy area is huge, with a sidewalk meandering past trees, benches, and occasional flower-garden displays. Thad is enchanted. Of course, he’s been in parks before, like the infinite garden maze simulation. But this… this is real. There’s actual wind on his face, tugging at his hair.

They pass by a wall entirely covered in greenery and flowers. Thad can smell them. That elusive scent that appears every so often when Thad is outdoors is coming from the flowers.

Thad stops short when he realizes that.

“Joseph!”

Joseph looks down at him.

“The flowers,” Thad says, and stammers briefly. “They—do flowers always smell like that? Like… like sugar?”

Joseph looks at him in surprise. Then his expression goes tender.

“They’re all sweet, but every flower smells unique.”

Thad takes his wrist in his hand. Oh. There are so many kinds of flowers. He knows that, but he doesn't know the names of them. And every one of them smells different? He had no idea!

Grife. He had no idea that flowers smelled like this. If he killed Bart like he was supposed to, he'd never have known.

For a minute, he thinks he might cry. But he manages to breathe until the tightness in his throat subsides.

[hornime]

saeko, an angel

you’ll let yourself believe a vain and untrue fairytale that humans can fly among the angels if it means that you can be in her presence for a moment longer.

warnings: gay lol

w/c: 2k

a/n: i’m so in love with her. also this is sfw which goes to show how much i am in love with her.

you crack your eyes open, a bright white light blinding you and forcing you to close them again, the burn settling into your pupils. you wait a minute, letting the red behind your closed eyelids warm to a fiery orange, before trying again, squinting as you let your eyes slowly adjust to the morning sun. and then you see her, through the blurry haze of dawn.

an angel.

you silently blink early tears away, too afraid of moving or making a noise and scaring the divine being away. as bubbles of light start sharpening into crisp clarity, you realize where you are: a hotel bed, with clean white curtains and walls framing a heavenly scene. and you realize what you’re seeing: saeko. so yeah, close enough, you think. an angel.

you remain immobile: your hands are tucked under the pillow and quickly going numb at the uncomfortable position, and the kink in your neck is demanding more and more of your attention as your nerves realize that you’re awake, naturally refusing to give you a mere minute of painlessness. but the aches in your joints and throbbing behind your eyes become secondary as you become transfixed on her, her. her, silently sitting on the edge of the bed and playing with the linen beneath her with the tips of her fingers, only half of her face towards you. she hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet, a serene smile gracing her face as she remembers a joke, something between her and herself. saeko, an angel.

it’s funny, you think, how mom always told me that mornings were times of clarity, times when things make sense. you remember a story she’d tell you when you were little.

“there’s something about the time when half the world is sleeping and the other half wishes they were sleeping,” she used to say, “that makes things make sense. everyone’s too groggy to start thinking their thoughts for the day. so the universe has all of these thought bubbles in the air, floating around, waiting for someone to just pluck it out of the air.”

“like a ballon?” you’d ask.

“yes,” she’d chuckle. “like a balloon. and you can just pluck it out of the air! sometimes, when the universe needs you to realize something, all those thought balloons will come rushing towards you, and they’ll form a big,” she’d spread her arms for emphasis, “big, big cloud of thoughts. and suddenly, everything would make sense. and you’d get the courage to do something that you’ve been wanting to for a while.”

you used to laugh at that story, imagining someone with a giant thought bubble sneaking out of their ears, carrying them up, up into the air. what could someone even be thinking about, you’d wonder, that would make their bubble so big? you couldn’t fathom contemplating something so large and important that you’d worry it could whisk you away into the atmosphere.

but now, laying here in silence, mom’s words were resurfacing to the flesh of your chest, warming it with something that had been burning there for a while, burning with what the universe had been wanting you to realize for quite some time now. 

you were just scratching the surface of what that was threatened to make you weightless, the strings of balloons tugging restlessly at your arms and legs, wishing you’d just let them fly already. wishing you’d just let yourself fly.

you don’t even realize your eyes are closing until you glance back up again, at the angel perched next to you, wingless yet still able to show you the wonders of the sky. saeko, an angel.

you study her for who-knows-how-long, noting the sheer beauty before you, so delicate yet strong you worry it’ll break itself or break you from the weight of its magnificence. she doesn’t even know, you register, she doesn’t even know that each moment around her is a blessing.

and you know for a fact that each moment is a blessing, because angels are blessings, and she’s an angel. somewhere in the murky depths of moral ambiguity, between drops of bitter vodka from a teenage birthday party and stolen quarters from the mall fountain, there is a glow of truth and irrefutable certitude: that she is an angel. saeko, an angel. 

and you, blessed.

wisps of blonde hair curl from her forehead to her jaw, whispering words in gold that you can only partially translate into a hymn of some kind, its rhythm vibrating along the headboard of the bed and prodding at your ears. you wish to brush them behind her ears, so cliche, she’d say, just so you can see more of that heavenly face. god, you groan internally, why’d you make her so fucking perfect? how’s that fair to any of us mortals? how’s that fair to me?

you trail your eyes down the bridge of her nose, slanted perfectly. you’ve never really thought about what the perfect nose bridge would be, but you know without a doubt that she has it. of course she does. saeko’s perfect. saeko, an angel.

and before you can help yourself, you’re tracing the curve of her lips, plump and pink and oh-so-kissable. you’d drown in those lips if you tried: visions of how they stretch into cheeky grins and purse into pouts could flood your mind if you let them. and you don’t let them, at least not as often anymore, especially since her lips can be really distracting, and last time you thought about them you were driving, and saeko shrieked in laughter when you called her telling her the reason there’s a new dent on the side of the car. 

“we can’t both be bad drivers!” she’d giggled. “that’s feeding into the gay stereotype!”

“it’s not my fault,” you’d grumbled, “that i can only concentrate on one thing when i’m behind the wheel.”

“that ‘thing’ should be the road! not my lips!”

“yeah, i know! but ‘i kissed a girl’ was on the radio and then i thought about kissing a girl and that girl was you and then one thing led to another and...”

the corners of your lips turn up at the memory. although you had been pretty pissed about having to pay for a repair, saeko proceeded to try and fix the dent herself with a plunger since she has a vendetta against auto shops because “they’ll take advantage of pretty things like you” and “motorcycles aren’t that different from cars anyway, so its fine.” and she was sure to give you some quality time with the lips that you’d been so distracted by, so even the fact that your insurance company had upped your rates hadn’t bothered you too much.

the strings of your thought balloons dangle in the air, glowing in the sunlight streaming through the window. you wonder how saeko hasn’t seen them yet. she must really be lost in thought.

your gaze remains steady on her face, her glory, her beauty. i’m lucky, you decide. so so lucky. you can feel your limbs be lifted slowly into the air. the balloons are getting restless.

you’re almost taken aback when you feel something wet roll down your cheek. are you... crying? seriously? you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to get a hold of your emotions. when’s even the last time i felt this in lo—

“hey.” saeko’s soft voice makes you crack open your eyelids as she runs a hand along your hair. “are you okay? you’re crying.”

you smoosh your face further into the pillow. “i don’t know,” you mumble through the comforter.

she repositions herself on the bed so that she’s sitting criss-cross towards you, leaning forward to bring her face closer to yours. “are you on your period?”

“no,” you respond immediately. you nuzzle further into the sheets, but poke your head out again. “wait, i’m not sure. what day is it?”

“the 21st.”

“oh,” you roll over onto your back, stretching your arms out hoping that she’ll hug you. “then maybe.”

saeko obliges to your silent request, crawling her way over and straddling the blanket over your legs before resting the top half of her body on yours. “i knew it,” she whispers into your neck.

you don’t dare look her in the eyes. you know that mortals will disintegrate if they look directly at an angel. you read that in a percy jackson book or something.

but the thought balloons are yanking at your arms, forcing your fingers to run down her spine and through her hair. i must be insane, you think. i’m insane to think that i’ll ever be enough for her. 

she’s an angel, you remind yourself to no avail. wingless, but can still fly. and you are nothing but a human, rooted to the ground by gravity and inevitable death. you’d be a fool to think that you’d ever be enough; after all, what bird would choose to stay on the ground when it can explore a limitless sky?

but you are a fool. you know that now, even if you were in denial before. you’ll let your delicate and fragile thought bubbles carry you into the air and bask in the temporary feelings of freedom before they pop and you crash and burn through the atmosphere. you’ll let yourself believe a vain and untrue fairytale that humans can fly among the angels if it means that you can be in her presence for a moment longer.

you most certainly are a fool, because you let your thought bubbles wrap their strings around you like a harness, pull themselves taut, and prepare yourself to jump out into the morning heavens, putting your trust into the wind to carry you alongside her. your toes are dangling across the edge, the open beyond becoming more and more appealing than the safety of the hotel room. you know that there is no do-over once you take the leap, once you try to fly. you’ll either get to fly beside her or you’ll fall to the ground and face an untimely end. but fuck if you aren’t daring, yearning, stupid enough to jump. 

you swallow. there really is no going back from this.

“saeko?” you let the words carry through the stagnant air of the room, filled with the lemony scent of an air freshener and saeko’s shampoo.

“hm?”

“i—” the wind whips widely at your back and at your balloons, sending them into all directions as they maintain their hold on you. it’s compelling you to fall, to throw caution into it and hold tightly to your faith and let go of your tether. you must be crazy because you’ve already made up your mind. this decision shouldn’t be that easy, but you are scarily sure. 

the earth’s roots are retreating back into the grass and your body is free for the first time. you can’t tell if the air will catch you, but it doesn’t matter anymore. you’ll be the first human to fly, even if it kills you. it probably will.

“i love you.” your feet leave ground and find nothing below them. the helium in your balloons is straining against your weight. your breath hitches—maybe this is how your life ends. maybe this is how the illusion that you’d created for yourself, a love between a human and an angel, disappears: shattered like bones on concrete.

you open your eyes. you hadn’t even realized you closed them. they meet a sky of warm brown, glinting with the promise of flight. the brightness of her smile makes the light of the sun pale in comparison, the same sun she’s gotten closer to than you ever will. her nose is dotted with freckles, mirroring the constellations that you’re sure she’s flown through countless times. you can practically see her wings, her halo. your confession, one you thought would land heavily in the space between you, feels like its expanding into something light. something... weightless.

the air seems to grow solid beneath you. it’s like you’ve realized you can fly. you’re starting to think you can.

“i love you, too.” 

she loves you. saeko loves you. 

saeko, an angel.

[starconsumer444]

Just found you and already smitten with your dark content. Could you maybe write either Kuroo/Suna/Tendou/Bokuto (whichever u choose) brother or stepbrother catching sister/stepsister trying to masturbate but not knowing how so they edge her relentlessly until she agrees to let him have sex with her because he's tricked her thats the only way she can really cum the first-time? Finishing with a nice cream pie?

Older Brother!Suna (18+)

A/N:Thank you thank youuu~ I’m sorry I didn’t go with the “relentless” edging,��I just did it one time because it was getting long and I have a sick and twisted sadomasochistic habit of writing from the late hours of the night until the early hours of the morning and getting dead tired half way through. I’m not sure if that was all that great in comparison to my other works, but I really hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

(CW/TW: Incest, Virginity [Suna makes it hurt too, but there is an orgasm <3], Coercion, Dubcon, Edging??? Or just flat-out orgasm denial...,Age gap??? [Reader is 18, Suna is 25] Fingering, Creampie, Absolutely Clueless reader..., Masturbation, Suna is an asshole in this one, Deception, Manipulation and PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING!!!!)

Unfortunately for you, university wasn't all that it was talked up to be in terms of sex and anything else really. You went into your first year thinking you were gonna lose your virginity, make new friends, go to frat parties, and just have all-around wild experiences. Suna, when he was in school, would always come back with cool stories to tell you, and had a new girlfriend every break he got. To have cool experiences like your big brother was the only reason you wanted to go, but unfortunately for you, it was none of that. Maybe it’s because you’re not an athlete like him, but it was studies, a newfound coffee addiction, and a roommate that never seemed to go anywhere. All that on top of your dead social life, absolutely miserable..

When Suna came to pick you up from the airport so you two could spend the holidays with your parents (a tradition no matter how old either of you get), you told him all about it. Sure, you didn’t grow up particularly close with him being seven years older and all, but he was still your older brother and no topic seemed to be off limits with him, so it was nice. He wasn’t the most doting older sibling and definitely not the most talkative either, but he was good for listening. Really, listening was his strong suit.

You told him about your lackluster social life and your mountains of schoolwork, but, even knowing he wouldn’t mind, you didn’t tell him about the sex stuff. Why would you? He’s your older brother. He shouldn’t know things like that about you.

Needless to say, you go home for winter break a sexually frustrated virgin. Maybe, if you had tried a little harder with the people at school it wouldn’t have come to this?

The house had been dead silent when you decided to, for the first time, attempt to masturbate. You were sure no one was home, not your mom, not your dad, and not your older brother, Suna. Still, you could’ve at least checked before you completely stripped your lower half.

It wasn’t going well, you had two fingers inside yourself and you didn’t feel anything. You felt like a doctor doing a self-probe at best. It just felt... wrong? But this is how the girls in porn do it, right? There’s no way you’re getting this wrong. You’re doing exactly what you see; moving your fingers in and out, even curling them a bit… What could you possibly be doing wrong?

Suna watches you silently from your slightly cracked door.

Pitiful, he thinks.

He was just coming by to ask if you wanted anything from the store because he was headed out. He didn’t expect to see his little sister struggling with her fingers in her cunt. He can postpone that walk to the corner-store to bond with his little sister.

He doesn’t even bother knocking to spare you the humiliation, just pushes the door open and lets himself right in.

You notice him immediately and let out a loud scream, closing your legs and trying to hide yourself by turning away from him. You want to disintegrate. Your body is burning up with embarrassment.

What does he want? Why now?

You feel his weight make your childhood bed dip and you can feel the warmth radiating off his body. One of his calloused hands caresses your thigh and you don’t move away from it the way you know you’re supposed to. You’re frozen.

What is he doing?

“Suna, get out!” You turn to look at him and grab his wrist to stop him in his tracks. Can’t he take a hint? “What are you-”

“You’re not doing it right.” He pipes up. In the back of his mind he knows this is wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this with his baby sister.

“Huh?” You’re clearly lost.

“I’ve done this before, let me help you.”

It takes nothing for him to separate your legs and settle himself in between them.

“You’re still a virgin?” His fingers slide gently up and down the wetness between your folds and it draws a sharp whimper and a harsh nod from you.

Suna is twenty-five and has enough sense about himself to know this is wrong. He’s not going to try to rationalize it. He’s just taking a golden opportunity even if that opportunity is his little sister. He has a knack for corrupting innocent girls like you; it’s fun for him even if it’s sick and perverted.

The dirty feeling you get having your brother touching and eyeing your most intimate parts is intense. You want him to keep going, but you know you should tell him to stop.

“Suna, this isn't okay.”

He shushes you but nods his head.

“I’m just helping you.” He says matter-of-factly. “It’s not like you can make yourself cum. Let your big brother help you, okay?” He insists and pushes two fingers inside your hole.

You scoot back out of shock and let out a surprised yelp, “O-okay,”

If he hears the nerves in your voice, he doesn’t do anything to acknowledge it. All he does is scoot closer and offer a gentle smile, the same brotherly one he gave you when he left for college and you cried wanting him to stay. That smile.

It feels so different when he fingers you. He’s not being as rough as you were and he’s definitely more practiced; you’re sure there’s tons of girls he’s done this too. It feels good, especially with him rubbing pleasant circles into your clit. You shouldn’t like this as much as you do.

“Feel better?”

“Mhm,”

He starts to speed up, and you clap your hand over your mouth to stop the moans from being too loud in case you two weren’t the only ones home. His fingers are like magic and you don’t know how to react.

With the stimulation to your clit and his fingers inside you, above cloud nine is where you are. You’ve never felt like this, and there’s a tinge of guilt about it being with your brother but this is too good.

As cute as you look with your heaving chest and your eye’s starting to unfocus, he knows he’s not done with you. When he feels you start to spasm around his fingers he pulls them out, because this may be his only chance to use you, his little sister.

He brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean like the perv he knows he is. It leaves you staring with your mouth hanging open, clearly searching for the words.

“What?” He asks, feigned puzzledness all over his expression. “You taste good.” He chuckles inwardly, you cringe internally. That’s not what you were going to ask, though.

“No…” You can’t look at him, so you look down and play with the sheets on your bed.

“Come on, what is it?”

“I think I was going to cum… and you-”

“That’s dumb, you can’t cum from being fingered.” There’s a seriousness in his tone, you take it as fact; he knows he’s lying.

“But the girls in porn-”

“It’s porn, it’s not realistic.”

You’ve heard that before. You guess it’s true, especially if Suna says it. It must be.

Thank god for shitty sex ed, he muses internally because without it, this wouldn’t be possible.

“Do you wanna cum?” He asks curiously.

All you offer in response is a meek nod. You’re not actually certain on going through with your brother making you cum, but if it’s anything like the way he made you feel just now… maybe, it’s not so bad.

He tells you to lay down, and you do so without hesitation. With your legs splayed open over his thighs, it feels grosser knowing your brother has an even clearer view of you. You wish you had the self control to just say no and end this.

He pulls his sweats and underwear down; if your heartbeat wasn’t going crazy before it definitely is now. His dick is thick and long. He’s rock hard, his tip is pinker than the rest of it, and there’s clear stuff leaking out. It looks like it’s going to hurt, even looks like it’s hurting him right now.

“Suna, wait is this-” You don’t know how to finish. “I’m a virgin.”

“I know, you told me already.” He’s not really paying attention to you. He spits on his hand and rubs it all up and down his length. It’ll hardly help more than the fingering, but it’s a kindness he’s willing to give his little sister. “Just… relax. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He says as he leans over you, guiding his length to your entrance.

Immediately you clench and shut him out.

“I-I’m sorry I just-”

“It’s fine, just relax like I said.”

You do, and he starts to push in. It burns. Stings? Something like a mix of those two.

Even if there was lube for you to use, Suna wouldn’t have offered. He likes the way his baby sisters' face contorts  in pain and confusion. You look cute losing your virginity to your big brother.

“AH-” It’s a sharp, pained exclamation coming from you as your hand pushes at his chest. Your legs are thrown over his shoulders now and he’s impaling you slowly inch by agonizing inch. You can feel him stretch you, but you don’t want him to stop, you’ve waited so long for this.

One of his hands rests on your lower stomach and you beg him to do anything to make you feel better when he’s all the way in. He rubs at your clit and leans over to kiss you like you’re his girlfriend.

Without warning he starts to move. It’s nothing but shallow and slow thrusts that have you feeling every inch of him. If it’ll make you cum, you can handle it. All you want is to cum. Combined with his fingers working on your clit, you’re sure you will, right?

Your moans are soft, even if it doesn’t feel that great. The girls in porn moan all the time, it’s the right thing to do.

When he feels like he’s been kind enough, he starts to move faster. You start to get used to it and your legs start to shake from the combined stimulation and strain from being bent at such an angle.

It’s like magic. Your orgasm washes over you,your eyes roll into the back of your head, your body shakes and your back arches off your soiled sheets.

Shock is plastered on Sunas typically inexpressive face. He didn’t expect you to actually...

His little sister is so sensitive. Most girls wouldn’t climax like that their first time. There’s an unspoken sense of pride in this for him. Still, he’s not stopping until he cums too.

You’re whining and squirming up under him, pushing at his hips and moving his hand away from your clit like him continuing is killing you after you’ve worked through your first orgasm. He assures you that’s how it’s supposed to feel and you’re supposed to wait until he cums too.

Once more, you’re laying there in discomfort and he’s getting off to it. Suna knows he’s wrong for it but he just can’t bring himself to care. Not when he’s so close. He especially doesn’t care when he sees your horrified expression as you feel him paint your walls with his warm cum. He’ll make sure you don’t get pregnant later, but for right now he wants to savor this moment.

[bookishofalder]

I’ll just leave it at I love you

Summary: In which Hotch and the reader are holed up in a safe house to avoid a killer set on destroying the BAU. A tale of smut, because what else happens when two consenting adults are fighting their feelings, then get stuck in a house together?

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, female reader, domHotch, PIV, virginReader, oral sex, mildly rough, language. WC-3500

A/N: I have crushes on fictional men and I'm not afraid to take that energy and create shit like this for the hell of it! Edited but feedback appreciated.

Hotch was restless, his shower had done nothing to help him relax. He stood in the kitchen, staring into the fridge as if it would give him the answers he needed. He wished he could go for a run, let off some steam. His pent-up energy, this cottage, (Y/N) being so close-it was all too much. The lines of professionalism were bound to blur, but he felt as if they were so far gone in the dust, he couldn’t see them anymore, not in his mind.

Their argument that afternoon had been like a match being lit within a gas station. It had heated up too quickly and then burned away, leaving them both feeling angry and dejected. And she had been right that Hotch was being overprotective, but it didn’t mean the problem would go away, and to just let her go back to DC would only end up in her being hurt, or worse.

He wanted this purgatory to end just as much as (Y/N) did.  He longed to be back with his son.  And with the team, solving cases. But none of them could do that until the killer was found, and Hotch had no control outside of this cottage.

As thoughts of his control, or the lack thereof, came to mind, he slammed the fridge shut in frustration and sighed. (Y/N) had been challenging him since the moment they set foot in this place, which he could understand. There was no one else, and therefore she took out her anger and fear on him.

He could handle that, he had thought at first.

When she yelled that she should leave, go home, and then offered to be the bait to lure the killer out, Hotch had felt something inside of him snap. The final tethers of his patience and sanity disintegrating. The team were in this together, all making sacrifices to protect (Y/N) because she had been the one receiving the death threats and mysterious packages. She had been the one whose photos were displayed on the walls of the crime scene in DC, a clear message-(Y/N) was the target.

So why was she so determined to leave and put herself in danger?

He was leaning against the counter, his hands gripping the edges. The sound of her soft footsteps approaching alerted him to her presence. Hotch opened his eyes, meeting hers directly. She was standing next to the island, biting her lip and looking at him with dark eyes, her arms wrapped around her middle protectively. She still looked angry. Hotch just stared back at her and waited for her to speak.

“I...” She frowned, “I’m not apologizing.” (Y/N) said stubbornly, making him tense, furious. But he refused to respond, he simply glared at her. He was not going to fight again now, it wouldn’t do either of them any good.

But she stepped into the kitchen further, looking determined.

“You should let me go right now, let me go and lure him out and end this, please.” She looked so hopelessly desperate as she spoke. Hotch shook his head, gripping the counter more fiercely.

“You know I can’t let you leave, just as much as I can’t leave.”

(Y/N) scoffed at his words, pointing toward the front door, “If I decide to walk out that door right now, you can’t stop me, Hotch!” Her eyes flashed dangerously until Hotch stepped away from the counter, standing at his full height. He saw something behind the anger shift, a modicum of fear.

He kept his voice steady, low, “You are not leaving. End of discussion.” She watched him speak, her face twisting further in anger. She turned, abruptly, toward the front door, blind rage overtaking her sensibility, and she moved toward it.

She was in a sweater and jeans, and she walked toward the front door like she was in full combat gear, ready to take on the world. But Hotch was quicker, he reached out and grabbed her arm, jerking her first toward him, and then into the wall behind them. He wasn’t harsh, careful not to hurt her in any way, but her furious yell made clear that she was not impressed. “For fucks sake, Hotch!”

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N), when did you become such a little fucking brat?” He spat, holding her against the wall, he stepped closer, looking down into her eyes, “When did you decide that it was you against the world? I’m right here trying to protect you!”

She stopped struggling and looked at him with wide eyes, “That’s why I want to leave, Hotch! Being cooped up here, knowing you aren’t safe-knowing you’re sacrificing everything for me, I can’t do this to you anymore, I can’t accept this kind of help.” She was breathless, tears burning at her eyes that she refused to let fall, arms pinned to her sides.

He shook his head, sighing, “How can I possibly make clear to you that I am okay with this, that I-I need to be the one to protect you, (Y/N)?” Hotch gripped her arms tighter, still standing so, so close.

“Why? What does that mean, that you need to?” She gazed up at him now, her wide eyes revealing her anger was disappearing, despite her frustrations. “Aaron?”

At the sound of his name, Hotch felt his anger dissolving into something much more powerful. His willpower shattered, and he dipped his head-surprised to find her expression was not of anger or fear now, but anticipation. When he captured her lips with his own, her reaction was instantaneous, her head lifting from the wall to deepen the kiss.

It was bliss, pure bliss.

Hotch slid his hands from her arms, gently cradling her head. He ran his tongue across her lips, and they opened for him, allowing him to taste her. He groaned as she slipped her hands up, gripping his shirt to pull their bodies together.

After a moment, he pulled his head back, panting, “I love you, that’s why. I love you more than I should, and I have for a while now. I think I’ve loved you since we first met, and every day I fall all over again when I see you, or learn something new, and I am never going to let you walk out of a door without me by your side if it means keeping you safe, because I’ve just found you and I never want to lose you, (Y/N).” The words rushed out of him, finally free, his shoulders lighter already.

“I thought it was just me.” She was looking at him in adoration now, tears falling, “I thought, a man like you...never, not for me, look but don’t hope.” She sniffled, and he wiped away her tears with his thumbs, kissing her forehead. “Aaron, I love you too.” At her words he brought their lips crashing together again, holding nothing back now.

He pressed (Y/N) into the wall, delighted at her gasp when she felt him hard against her stomach. He trailed his hands down, to her hips, behind her thighs. He had to stoop slightly, she was so short, and he scooped her up. Her heat made contact with him and they both groaned at the sensation before Hotch hastily carried her the few steps into the bedroom. Hotch laid (Y/N) down on the bed carefully, one hand sliding protectively behind her head. She kept her legs around him, holding him close and taking on his weight.

For a few minutes, they continued kissing, until Hotch broke away to begin exploring her body. Shifting his weight and kneeling, his hands travelled down, gently. She moaned softly, then whimpered when his hand traced over her breast, her nipple hard within her thin sweatshirt. Hotch sat up, pulling her with him so that he could pull the sweater over her head. She complied without hesitation, seeming to consent to his control.

But he was a gentleman, “Just tell me if you want to stop, okay, (Y/N)?” He breathed, pausing as he reached for her beautiful, bare breasts. She nodded, but Hotch needed to hear her say it, and she read that in his expression.

“I promise, Hotch.” She gasped out, writhing in anticipation. He began kneading her breasts, only to find she was sensitive here-his fingers brushing over her nipples caused her to jerk slightly, moans unending. He gently eased her back to lay again, before pulling his shirt off.

Momentarily, he became self-conscious of the scars scattered across his torso, now exposed. (Y/N) reached up, tracing one with her finger, “You’re perfect, Aaron.” Worry ceased at her words, his heart swelling. In response, he ducked his head and brought his mouth to her chest, his tongue flicking over her nipple. She reacted instantly, her back arching and a hand gripping his hair, encouraging him.

He took his time teasing her, moving between each breast, he ignored her hips seeking friction against him. For as long as he could stand.  

A whimper escaped her lips, so full of longing it had Hotch glance up, meeting her eyes. Her pupils were blown out, desire flushing her face, lips trembling, “Hotch...”. He shifted again, this time slipping his thumbs into her waistband, tugging. She lifted her hips to help, and he swiftly removed her pants and underwear in one swoop, tossing them on the floor.

Automatically and instinctively, her legs closed. Hotch caught her left leg, pushing his hand down her inner thigh. She writhed beneath him, but her leg stiffened, and he looked at her closely, “What’s the matter, baby girl?” He whispered, concerned.

She peered up at him, looking shy, “I...I’ve never been able to cum that way, and I know men don’t really like to, you know, so you don’t have to.” Hotch gazed at her in surprise.

“Is that what you think? I don’t want to taste you?” He held her gaze, but moved his hand down, sliding a finger across her heat. Her hips bucked, “I’m going to taste you cum in my mouth, sweetheart. I’ll show you just how much I’ve been wanting this, okay?” She nodded eagerly, her breathing erratic, legs relaxing slightly.

Hotch pushed himself down the bed and hooked her legs over his shoulders, finally coming face to face with her; she was glistening for him. He groaned. “Sweetheart, you’re so wet for me already.” She merely mewled in response as his fingers explored her folds. She was well-groomed, her hair trimmed fairly short, giving him a full few of her; his mouth watered.

The moment Hotch felt her legs relax on his shoulders, becoming more comfortable with his face being so close to her, he dove in. He quickly moved his hands to grip her hips, holding her in place as he began to lick up her slit, then press his tongue into her clit. She bucked and writhed, fighting against his grip to no avail.

“Oh god, oh god, Aaron, please, please...”

He smiled against her, pulling back slightly, “Please what, baby girl? What do you need?” He licked her again, and she cried out, lifting her head to look down at him. She tasted divine, which only drove him to lick and suck more, waiting for her to respond.

It took her a few minutes to form words as his assault on her clit continued, “Need...I think I might...uh, cum, Aaron.” She groaned his name, and he laughed against her, which sent vibrations deep into her. He kept up his pace, felt her tensing more, shivering beneath him.

“Cum baby girl, let go for me.” He ordered, and it was like she’d been waiting for his permission. Her back arched up and he felt her throb against his tongue, a soft cry escaped her lips. She jerked in her orgasm, over and over. He sucked lightly on her and she trembled in response, tears spilling out of her eyes before she fell back into the bed, coming down from her high.

“Oh god, oh,” She breathed, and Aaron backed off, sliding up the bed to lay next to her. He watched her catch her breath, revelling in her blissed-out expression, her red cheeks. He waited a few moments, letting her come down. “I’ve never, ever had an orgasm like that, Christ.”

Hotch laughed, leaning over her and planting gentle kisses along her hairline, her eyes, the tip of her nose, “We can stop here if you want to.” He suggested, but of course, Aaron had forgotten her age. 25 years old, in good shape-orgasm or not, she wasn’t done yet. Her eyes flew open and met his, pupils fully dilated still.

“I want to keep going, but I have to tell you something first,” (Y/N) stayed laying, but drew her legs together, “And if you decide you think we should stop, then I fully accept that.”

He tilted his head, eyes exploring her worried expression, “What is it, sweetheart?” His hand had been roaming absentmindedly, but he stopped at her hip. He gazed down at her, brows furrowed.

She seemed to steel herself, taking a deep breath.

“I’ve, never-you know, had sex,” Seeing his shocked expression, she began to ramble, “It just never happened, with anyone I dated when I was younger, and it got to the point where it was an afterthought, especially after I bought an expensive vibrator, and I know that it’s weird or, whatever, to be 25 and this inexperienced, but-“

“(Y/N),” He cut her off, stroking her cheek gently, “Thank you for telling me. But it doesn’t change my mind, about anything. I would understand if this was far enough, for now, truly, so just tell me what you want.” He hoped he could spend the rest of his life making her feel better, happy, loved. They didn’t need to continue if she wasn’t ready.

“Hotch, I...I want you, I always have,” She shifted slightly, and he watched her breathing pick up in anticipation, “I’ve thought about it, so many times...when I shouldn’t have, especially.”

His interest was piqued. Hotch rolled over her, bracing his weight on his arm, pressing his erection against her, his pants still on, “Really? Tell me.” He said, noting how she flushed any time he ordered her to do something.

“The first time I thought about it, was back at headquarters after the first case we worked when you came back to work. You were in your office and I dropped off everyone’s reports,” Hotch remembered this evening, as he’d been surprised to find the newest team member picking up the slack and finalizing everyone’s notes for submission, “You had taken off your tie, and you’d been so good to me in the field, so kind. But when I knocked on the door you were deep in thought and at first, you glared at me and I thought ‘how much would I give to climb up on that desk and get rid of that frown’.”

Hotch hissed at her words, grounding against her harshly, “You wanted me that soon?” (Y/N) nodded, a breathy moan escaping.

“After that, I thought about you too often. I had to use my vibrator the moment I got home, every day. I had to bring it on the road, even. I wanted you to take me, everywhere, anywhere, as much as you wanted.” Hotch groaned, pushed her down and sat back, swiftly removing his pants and briefs. (Y/N)’s head popped up and looked at his erection, her eyes widening in shock, instantly licking her lips. “Holy shit, Hotch...” He laughed at her words.

“I’ve been wishing I could bend you over my desk for months now, but I had no idea you hadn’t ever done this before. I want to see your face, baby girl.” Something in his voice caused her eyes to widen, further. He lowered himself, reaching down with one hand to push his length along her folds, wetting it in her juices.”Oh fuck, you’re so ready for me baby girl, tell me you want this.”

She knew he needed to hear her give permission again, and she gave it instantly, “Please Aaron, please I need you, ple-oh!” She gasped as he pushed into her, hard. Stiffening, a low groan broke free, her eyes shut tightly. He buried himself completely inside of her before freezing, waiting for her pain to subside. Pleasure rippled through Hotch.

Hotch kissed her gently as she whimpered in pain, “You did so good, sweetheart, it’ll be okay in a minute, just breath for me,” He whispered, stroking her hair back, watching her face closely. For a few moments, her eyes stayed shut, screwed up against the sensation, and he gave her credit for taking her time to adjust. He knew he was larger than average, and she was so tight around him. He had to keep still for both her sake and his own, fearing her tightness alone would send him over the edge-he wanted to take his time and make her feel...everything.

He felt when her body had adjusted, the tension in her lower body relaxing, her eyes beginning to open. He tested the waters, moving his hips back slightly, and then sinking into her again. He groaned, watching as her face lit up at his movements; so he repeated them, moving further back this time.

“Oh fuck, Aaron!” That was all he needed to hear. He moved over her, bracing his arms on the bed on either side of her head, his hands near her face, and began to thrust quickly, long strokes that brought stars to his vision. And she was loud beneath him, one hand on his chest, the other gripping his shoulder, screaming his name. He pounded into her, groaning, and he buried his face in her neck, biting gently, which only elicited further shouts, her hips bucking slightly to meet his movements.

“Oh baby girl, you are taking me so well, fuck,” He bit her neck again, and she jerked in response, her walls squeezing him. “Such a good girl for me, such a good girl.”

“Sir, please, please don’t stop.” She whimpered, and Hotch’s eyes flew open in surprise, her words sending a shiver down his body.

He stared down at (Y/N), who seemed surprised at herself, but a small smirk quirked her lips, and he growled, a hand sliding behind her head and gripping her hair, the other grabbing her jaw, gentle but firm. “Say that again.” He kept his pace, pleasure building.

“Uh, sir, fuck me, please sir!” (Y/N) was a writhing mess beneath him, loving his reaction, his dominance, her eyes watching him in delight. She arched slightly as his thrusts became almost brutal, and began to call his name over and over, unable to stop.  

Hotch leaned down and bit her neck again, leaving another mark, and she began to tremble beneath him, words escaping her when his thrusts bottomed out, hitting her deep, eyes-rolling. He kissed her, but she was so blissed out it barely registered, which only made him happier. “Fuck...Good, baby girl, so good...cum for me again okay? You can cum for me now, fuck!”

On his last word, he gave an almighty thrust and she screamed, her hands clutching his shoulders as the wave broke over her, her body tensing, squeezing him, and then, “Aaron!” It was his undoing and he came with her, spilling himself inside her as he moaned her name. He brought his head down and kissed her breasts, jerking wildly into her, his thrusts sloppy. Her body relaxed as she came down from her high.  

“Oh sweetheart,” He breathed, slowly easing out of her, before collapsing on the bed beside her. He pulled her to him, and she obliged, rolling over and resting her head on his chest, while they both remained silent, catching their breath. “You did so well, baby girl.” He kissed the top of her head.

“That was-I mean,” (Y/N) stammered, struggling to find words. Inwardly, Hotch smirked, happy to know he’d rendered her somewhat speechless. “I think I’ll just leave it at I love you.” She began to giggle, gazing up at him.

Hotch joined her, months of tension and longing now gone, and in its place a happy new beginning. They still had forces outside of their cozy little hideaway that worked against them, but for the time being, he and (Y/N) could simply enjoy the clear air between them.

The rest of the world could wait.

“I love you, too, (Y/N)”

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

[beelsnack]

Obey Me! Boys Taking Care of a Sick MC

In honor of me no longer having covid, I decided to write down how I mentally coped with having the plague  some headcanons about our boys and a sick MC. Because I’m all about the hurt/comfort life.

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Lucifer: “You should be resting.”

The human scowled. Of course Lucifer was standing guard at the bottom of the staircase.

“I’m just going to get some water,” their voice sounded like sandpaper against wood as they spoke. They felt like the living dead, and judging by the cool stare Lucifer was giving them, they looked it, too.

“No, you’re just going back to bed.” He caught them by the elbow as soon as they were within reach. “I’ll bring a pitcher of water to your room for you.”

“Lucif--” their complaint was cut off by a sudden coughing fit. The force of it made them double over, and they clutched at their chest with one hand while the other went to cover their mouth. Demons couldn’t catch human illnesses, but old habits die hard.

It wasn’t until their lungs stopped trying to eject themselves from their body that they realized that Lucifer had sat them down on the bottom step. He was rubbing slow, soothing circles on their back, a rare look of concern in his dark eyes. “Easy now, my dear,” he murmured as they caught their breath. “You’re shaking, are you chilled?”

“...Just a little,” they wheezed. They must not have sounded very convincing, because Lucifer quickly removed one glove and gently pressed the back of his hand against their forehead.

“Your fever has come back.” In one quick, fluid movement, he had taken the cloak from around his shoulders and wrapped it around them like a blanket. “Go back to bed, now. I’ll bring you water and something to bring your fever down,” he spoke softly, like raising his voice would trigger another coughing fit.

It was too bad they were too sick to appreciate Lucifer’s soft side.

Mammon: “…A’ight, that should be everything.”

Admittedly, he might have gone a bit overboard. But, could you blame him? He’d never nursed a sick human back to health before!

…Okay, so Lucifer may or may not have let Mammon use his credit card to get stuff for them. And he may or may not have taken a few liberties. It was for the human though!

“Mammon, holy shit,” they mumbled, poking their head out from the blanket burrito they had cocooned themselves in. “Is there anything left at the convenience store or did you buy them out?”

“Shut it.” he set the last six-pack of Gatorade (well, the Devildom equivalent of it, anyway) at the foot of their bed. “Ya’ weren’t specific, so I just got one of each!”

Their room looked like a doomsday prepper’s bunker. Cans of soup, a myriad of flavors of instant noodles, a portable heater, the works. Maybe they should have been more specific.

“Do ya’ need anything else?” Mammon sounded vaguely annoyed, but underneath the gruff tone he spoke with, his concern was obvious. They had given him a scare when they first came down with the flu two days ago, temperature so high that they ended up collapsing on their way to RAD. He had been fussing over them since. They weren’t even sure if he had slept.

“...Just one more thing.”

“Yeah?” he perked up like a dog waiting for an order from its master. “Whaddaya need?”

Instead of speaking, they wiggled their arms free of the blankets and held them out. For a moment, Mammon just stared at them in confusion. When what they were asking for finally clicked, his face grew so hot they could use it as a space heater.

“What are you, a little kid?” he grumbled, but there wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation as he climbed into the bed with them. They settled themselves against his chest, sighing contentedly. Sleep had taken over in a few heartbeats.

“...Get better soon, you hear?” they didn’t, obviously, and Mammon took the opportunity to gently pat their head, like they so often did for him. “If you’re gonna be all cute and stuff, I want ya to be conscious of it.”

Leviathan: “You know, I really thought you would take longer to go through all of these.”

The human looked like a whole new person compared to the last time Levi had seen them. They were sitting upright, although they looked ready to slide back down into their previous coma-like state any minute, and the number of blankets wrapped around them had been reduced to just one instead of three. They managed to shoot him a weak grin as they handed over the manga he had let them borrow.

As much as Levi loved staying locked away in his inner sanctum, it was only an enjoyable experience if one’s source of entertainment was also locked away with them. And he couldn’t, in hood conscience, let the human die of boredom instead of dying of illness, so he had ventured out of his lair armed with his collector’s edition box set of I’m A Scholarship Student At An Obscenely Rich School and Now I Have To Work Off A Debt Because I Broke A Vase That Belonged To A Host Club!

That had only been a few days ago, but this morning he had gotten a text from them saying that they were finished.

“It’s not like I have anything else to do, Levi.”

“Pretty sure you could have been sleeping, but okay.”

They stuck their tongue out. “I couldn’t put it down.”

“Right?” Levi nodded enthusiastically, clutching the box to his chest like it was worth his weight in gold. Actually, knowing him, he probably paid his weight in gold for it. “I definitely bawled my eyes out at the end. You have to watch the anime next, the music really brings the scene together. And, like, I’m not usually into pastel themes, but the color scheme actually really fits the mood, and - “

Somewhere in the middle of Levi’s overly-excited info dumping, the human’s eyes had slipped closed. By the time Levi realized he was geeking out, their breathing had evened out and they had slumped against the headboard.

…Oh. They looked really cute like that.

“Sheesh, c’mon, normie,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bored you to sleep.”

He set down the box on their nightstand and, very carefully, so he didn’t wake them up, inched them down to lay were laying against the mountain of pillows they had. Once they were settled into a position that wouldn’t give them a crick in their neck, he pulled the blanket up to their chin.

“There,” he nodded to himself. “You rest up, because you and I are going to have an anime marathon, and I won’t forgive you if you fall asleep in the middle of it.”

They mumbled, but otherwise stayed unconscious. Levi had definitely seen this in an anime before. His heart was pounding somewhere around his throat, but he wasn’t getting this opportunity again any time soon. Gently, like he was approaching a wild animal, he leaned in close and pressed his lips to their forehead.

“Seriously, get better soon.” he murmured. “I don’t like seeing you sick.”

Satan: His leg was falling asleep.

He had been sitting in the same position for at least an hour, and if it were anyone else he simply would have shoved them off and went about his day. But, how could he push the human away when they were curled up like a kitten in his lap?

They had been complaining about being bored, since they had been too feverish to attend RAD for the past few days. So Satan, always the man with a plan, had arrived in their room ready to binge watch his favorite crime drama. Even though he had seen this show at least eight times, he still found himself getting absolutely sucked into the plot. So much so that he didn’t notice the human starting to nod off until they landed against his side.

“Honestly, you could have just told me you were tired.” he muttered, gently rearranging them so their head was resting in his lap. They made a small noise in their sleep, but otherwise remained unconscious.

It was so rare that the human was still. They seemed to have an endless source of energy, able to be embroiled in all of the shenanigans that tended to happen around the family without absolutely disintegrating. To have them finally at rest, even sick, was quite the treat. Satan couldn’t quit help himself as he reached down to pet their head.

Well, if he was going to be stuck here until they woke up, at least he had a good show to watch.

Asmodeus: “Asmo, I can bathe by myself.”

“Yeah, no, don’t even try it.” Asmo shook his head as he ushered the human into his bedroom. “You passed out in the shower the other day, darling. This is the only time I’m grateful for Mammon’s snooping, because you might still be there if he hadn’t heard you fall.”

They subconsciously touched the sore spot on their shoulder where they had collided with the wall. The pain blended in with the rest of their body aches, but the bruise certainly didn’t.

“Besides,” Asmo sat them down on the chaise lounge. “A nice, hot bath with some quality oils will rejuvenate you like nothing else. Now, go on, strip.”

When they gave him a clearly unamused look, he just laughed. “Not while you’re sick, darling. You know full well being with me requires you to be at peak energy.”

With a sigh, they began peeling themselves out of their days-old pajamas. Admittedly, they did feel like a bath would help them feel a little better. They were pretty sure they read somewhere that the steam from hot water would help clear out all the gunk in their chest. And if anyone knew the intricate rituals of bath time, it was Asmodeus.

While they were stripping, Asmo had made his way over to the Grecian temple that was his bathtub and turned on the tap. After a few moments of running his hand under the stream to test the temperature, he stood and began browsing his impressive collection of bath accoutrements. “Hm, let’s see, let’s see…here it is!”

Asmo turned around, holding up the little bottle like he had just found buried treasure. “Eucalyptus, to help clear out the lungs. It’s good for muscle aches, too!”

With a flourish, he put a few drops into the water. “Alright, ready. Can you get in yourself or do you need my help?”

“I’ve got the flu, not the plague, Asmo.”

“You. Fell. In. The. Shower.” he punctuated each word with a poke to their cheek before holding out his hand to help them. Although they grumbled, they were still feeling kind of weak, so they allowed Asmo to pull them up.

“There, now, easy does it,” he spoke softly as he guided them to sit on the edge of the tub. If this were any other situation, they would be painfully aware of the fact that they were completely naked in front of the Avatar of Lust. But, the fragrant steam rising from the water was beginning to ease the ache in their chest, and Asmo’s soft hands had begun massaging their shoulders. They barely even noticed when they were fully seated.

“You’re not coming in?” they murmured sleepily as Asmo sat himself along the edge of the tub. He just laughed.

“Next time, darling. Now, you just relax and let me take care of you.”

Beelzebub: The phrase “don’t have much of an appetite” just didn’t make sense to Beel. How could someone not want to eat? Maybe he was a bit biased, being the ever-starving Avatar of Gluttony, but still. Humans needed lots of nutrients to get better when they were sick, right? He was pretty sure that was what Satan told him.

Beel scowled, scrolling through the eighteenth listicle about foods to eat when sick. Honestly, he was making himself hungry, but he was starting to get the general idea. Looks like he’s making them some soup.

The kitchen was separated into “human” and “demon” sections, after the one time that they almost used cyanide instead of salt. Human cuisine took less time and involved less magic, so Beel knew his way around the human spice cabinet. Making the soup was the easy part, making sure it got to its intended recipient was another matter.

Climbing the stairs to the human’s room felt like a Herculean task, but he did it - mostly. He may have taken a few bites here and there. But he had purposely put more in the bowl than he knew they would be able to eat, so it was fine, right? He knocked on their door twice, listening to them shuffle around before they finally called out weakly that the door was open.

“I brought food.” he said, shutting the door behind him. “You haven’t been eating much lately.”

They poked their head miserably out of the blanket burrito they had wrapped themselves in. A thin sheen of sweat covered their forehead, but they were shaking, which meant their fever hadn’t broken yet. Did humans always take this long to get better? Another question for Satan.

“I’m not really hungry, Beel.” they mumbled, voice thick and gravelly due to the sore throat they had. “You can eat it.”

Shaking his head, Beel sat himself down on the bed beside them. “I had some already.”

“Have some more.”

“No, I made it for you.” his stomach growled, completely undermining his words. “It’s basically just broth, you can drink it.”

They wiggled around for a bit before they managed to extract themselves from the absolute cocoon they had made. “…What kind of broth?”

“Just chicken, I promise.” he laughed. “I wasn’t about to try to get you to eat a Devildom recipe.”

Finally, they got themselves into a sitting position, but even that seemed to wear them out. They flopped against Beel’s shoulder, and he definitely didn’t like how hot their skin felt against his. Their breathing was ragged as they tried to get the energy to sit up.

“Here,” Beel dipped the spoon into the broth. “I’ll help.”

“I’m not a baby…”

“No, but you are really weak.” he replied gently. “Let me help you.”

He could feel the urge to protest vibrating through their body - their independence was definitely an endearing quality of theirs. But, eventually they must have come to the conclusion that a content of tenacity between the two of them was going to take longer than simply waiting out their illness. With a huff, they opened their mouth and let Beel feed them.

“Oh, wow, this is pretty good.”

“I’m a good cook if I don’t eat the ingredients first.”

Belphegor: “I thought humans slept a lot when they got sick.”

The bags under the human’s eyes were almost as intense as they glare they gave him. When the rest of the brothers had begun arguing over something stupid, Belphegor had taken the opportunity to bundle them up and whisk them away to the peace and quiet of the attic. His intent had been to take a nice long nap with them, but apparently their lungs had a different plan.

“We should,” they groaned, sounding like their throat was made of sandpaper. “Every time I feel like I’m going to fall asleep, I start coughing.”

“That sounds counter-intuitive.”

“Tell me about it.”

Belphie rolled over so that he was lying on his side, facing them. “Well then, you picked a good nap partner.”

They blinked blearily up at him. “Why is that?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He reached out, tugging them towards him until they were settled comfortably against his chest with their head tucked beneath his chin. Although he wasn’t the tallest of the brothers, he had enough height to basically surround the human. “Can you hear my heartbeat?”

“I’m too tired for you cheesy lines, Belphie.”

“No, seriously, just listen.”

He could practically hear them roll their eyes, but they quieted down. Once he was sure they were synced up with the steady ba-bump, ba-bump of his heart, he began to work his magic - literally.

He brought his hand up to cup the back of their skull, fingertips tingling as he focused his magic their. They squirmed for a moment before sighing as the cool rush of Belphie’s special brand of sleep magic washed over them.

“I told you, being tired isn’t the prob - “

“Hush,” he murmured, letting them feel his voice rumble through his chest. “Just relax for me, okay?”

Belphie massaged their scalp like he was washing their hair, working his magic into their skin. Slowly but surely he felt them soften, the tightness in their chest easing. Finally, their slightly labored breathing evened out, and the poor human finally succumbed to sleep.

“About time,” he kissed the top of their head. “You need to rest if you want to get better, so let’s sleep as long as we like, okay?”

[yannowhatigiveup]

My One And Only - Chapter 15

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My gosh, wow! Thank you so much for 100 followers! I never expected to reach this far. And with this chapter, we’ll have finally caught up with it on wattpad!

TW: Injuries being described

The situation in Paris was much, much more serious than they assumed.

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Red. He saw red. Ladybug, his Angel was hurt, stabbed, for all of Paris to see. He couldn't stand there and do nothing, oh no. He wouldn't. Damian had to think quickly but logically. 'Father told me I wasn't allowed to bring my Robin uniform but even if I did the citizens would be suspicious. That means...' His eyes landed on the silver ring that was laying peacefully on the coffee table. He reached out and placed it on his right ring finger. It turned a dark grey as a black blur escaped the ring with a green light. It was another kwami, similar to Tikki but it was black and more cat-like. Damian presumed this was 'Plagg', the kwami Tikki talked about earlier. The black kwami yawned and assessed his surroundings in a flash.

"Look-"

"Who are you? Where's Pigtails? How'd you get the miraculous? Do you have any cheese? I'm hungry" Plagg interrupted. The Robin vigilante wasted no time.

"Damian, With an Akuma, She tasked me to take care of the ring and we have better things to worry about your hunger!" He shot back, his voice getting louder after each statement.

"What could be more important than cam... men... bert..." the kwami's voice trailed off as he noticed the screen. Césaire had stopped recording, thank god, but the screen still showed the last frame of the video, it was extremely far from a pretty sight. "This is bad" the kwami panicked.

"Yes, there's no time to lose! Tell me, what do I need to do" he looked at Plagg straight in the eye, showing that he could be trusted.

"To transform you say 'Plagg, Claws Out!'. You have a power you can call upon, 'Cataclysm', and you'll be able to destroy the first object you touch. But it only works once then you have five minutes before you transform back, Make it count!" The kwami was frantic, nothing like this had ever happened before in previous battles.

Damian was already making his way to the balcony "Plagg, Claws Out!" A dark green light engulfed him. He was covered in a black suit, black boots, black gloves with sharp retractable blades, 'Oh how much fun that'll be using them'. He also had a black cape with a hood similar to the one with his Robin costume but instead he had cat ears poking through, a dark grey baton appeared in his hand as well. Almost instantly, he mastered the weapon and launched himself in the direction that Ladybug went earlier. 'I'm on my way Angel. When I get my hands on Hawkmoth, I'll make him suffer. I promise you'

~~~

Ladybug had the situation under control. She had. Something had changed. Hawkmoth must've found a way to boost his powers, it was the only acceptable reason. Otherwise there was no way to penetrate the indestructible suits that the miraculous provided. Yet here she was, forced to watch the horror on her citizens face as a long blade protruded through her chest. The blade held her in the air as she was stabbed from behind. Their expressions, being outsmarted by Hawkmoth and the pain from the injury itself was unbearable for the spotted heroine. She then came to the conclusion that the blade was slowly draining her energy. Hawkmoth planned to have Guerrier collect her miraculous only after watching her suffer. How sickening. 'Hawkmoth, you bitch'

She had to get out of there. She needed to get out of there.

Mustering all the strength she had, she swung her foot at the figure behind her in a strong, hard kick. The long blade was quickly sent back along with the Akuma and Ladybug stumbled forward, one hand on her chest the other swinging her yo-yo to create a shield. Since she was weakened, Guerrier was only sent back a few feet but her kick not only had strength but pure determination. While the Akuma was distracted she looked at the distraught citizens around her.

"For your own safety, please, leave this area!" She tried to sound controlled but instead her voice had a big edge of fear. All the citizens, nonetheless, left. Though, she could see them peaking behind the buildings. Suddenly, Guerrier regained his footing.

Ladybug's eyes shot back in his direction, the nad on her chest clutched into a fist. The miraculous magic was healing her, but it wasn't healing fast enough. She was losing blood. Fast. She tried to use her own powers but that too was draining her energy, the energy couldn't afford lose. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears, she could hear it slowing down. She was panicking, she needed energy to call upon her Luck Charm, she needed energy to fight the Akuma and she needed energy she heal herself. She didn't have enough energy for any of that.

As Guerrier began to approach, her blood was luckily never on the blade, she braced herself for another fight and her vision started to get blurry. just as he was about to go for another swing, a dark grey pole shot out of nowhere, sending the Akuma far from Ladybug. Though she couldn't quite see, she recognised the aura that surrounded the black-hooded figure who was now standing defensively in front of her.

'Damian' she didn't have the strength to speak, she hoped that whatever telepathic link they had the other day would appear again now.

'How are you holding up?' The sound of his voice made relief wash over her like a waterfall. She stopped using her energy on her yo-yo and focused on healing her wound instead.

'Better now that you're here' she stumbled onto her knees, knowing it was safe to do so. 'Remember not to hurt the Akuma too much, Hawkmoth is the real villain here'

'I know' his voice echoed in her ears, 'Speaking of the Akuma, where is it?'

Ladybug's eyes snapped open, observing the fight between the cat and Guerrier. She remembered the blade. The blade that the Akuma was holding. The blade that impaled her. 'It's in...' Now filled with an unusual amount of spite, she snarled "The sword, Noir"

The black-cat themed hero understood immediately and, swiftly but carefully, aimed for Guerrier's hand. In the mean time, Ladybug had enough energy to safely call upon her Lucky Charm. She was given a piece of equipment that she had seen Sabrina's father have. She wasn't sure how to use it as it was still in 'testing phase' as said by Officer Raincomprix. Her Ladybug vision then kicked in and the item as well as Guerrier lit up, she knew what to do.

'Get him to attack you in a high guard motion'

The hooded hero understood the demand immediately and used his pole, now transformed into a 'Cat-ana', to get the Akuma frustrated. It worked perfectly as the black fencer had the sword and the blade above his head, ready to swing. Ladybug then used the moment of vulnerability and threw the lucky charm as if it were a boomerang at the Akuma, the two ends with magnets snapped together, holding Guerrier's arms in place. Though she couldn't see his face, she could tell he was mad. Very, very mad.

Not wanting to waste a moment longer, Damian swiftly grabbed the sword by the handle and swept the Akuma's legs so it hit the ground and had no means of escape. "Cataclysm" It was the first thing he had actually said with his voice during the entire battle and Ladybug has to admit, his voice seemed deeper and huskier. The sword in his other hand had disintegrated to dust, the purple butterfly fluttered from the remains. When Damian had first heard of it, he was completely unconvinced something such as a butterfly could cause devastation. But now, he sensed the ghastly energy that reeked from the creature, it was overwhelming. He only broke out of his trance when Ladybug's yo-yo caught the flying organism and he went to the akumatized victim to take the object Ladybug's Lucky Charm had summoned.

He handed her the item and placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her body as she threw it in the air. "Miraculous Ladybug!" A bunch of bright magical ladybugs swarmed around the area, fixing and healing anyone who got injured, Ladybug included. But the pain didn't quite stop, so she clutched her chest where the wound once was. The Akuma, now destransformed, was a person around their age, it appeared that he was rejected from the fencing club. This theory was confirmed when Adrien, Ladybug was too exhausted to notice him, ran about to the boy.

"Maxime! Maître D'Argencourt said you can join the fencing club" Ladybug and the black-cat themed hero didn't bother to hear what the boy said in reply but Damian did speak to Adrien.

"Make sure he gets to where he needs to be, safely, Adrien" the new hero spoke as the ladybug hero fell back with pure exhaustion in his arms. After seeing the blonde nod, Damian carried Ladybug in his arms and not wanting to waste any more time, used his pole to launch them in the direction of the hotel. Adrien watched wearily at the two heroes until they were out of viewing distance.

As soon as Damian landed on his hotel room balcony, both his and Ladybug's transformations fell. He was still carrying her bridal style and walked inside, gently placing her down on the bed, being mindful and anxious about her injury, while Plagg closed the balcony door. Tikki circled her owner who was now drifting in and out of consciousness. He kneeled by the left side of the bed as Tikki used her kwami magic where the wound once was, Plagg slowly floated to hover next to his new chosen. When Marinette's eyes fluttered upon, both kwamis rejoiced and hugged both her cheeks. She moved so that her body was sitting comfortably with her legs in front of her, she then turned her head slightly towards the black-haired boy who was sitting besides her.

"Dami-"

He cut her off with a gentle hug and he made his way to sit beside her. "Malaki..." the perturb and pure solace in his voice made a lump form in Marinette's throat. He buried his face further into her neck. "You scared me damn it"

She let out a humorless chuckle, her hand unknowingly reached to stroke her fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry..."

Damian pulled away and lightly placed his hand to turn her face. He crashed his lips onto hers and Marinette melted into the kiss. He then pulled away but kept his forehead on her's, their breaths mingling. "Don't apologize when you are not at fault". He opened his eyes to look straight at her. "I know the wound itself is gone, but what about the pain?"

She smiled lovingly at him. "The pain's subsided, for now" Marinette pulled her shirt down a bit to inspect the area surrounding her injury. All that remained was a fading bruise where the wound once was. The bluenette let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry I couldn't heal it fully Marinette" Tikki's voice cut in. "This is your first physical injury from a miraculous so I didn't want to put any more strain on your body"

"It's fine and, thank you Tikki" Marinette reached out to pat the small kwami's head.

"Well to bring some good news" Plagg butted in. "We found my true chosen"

"Really?" Marinette tilted her head.

"Yep it's Damian, the lover boy here" the black kwami flew over to make himself comfortable in his black hair, ignoring Damian's growl, almost camouflaged completely. "I can feel the destruction in his soul like how Tikki can feel the creation in yours Pigtails"

"Yep!" Tikki chimed.

"Now that's over with, I want some Camembert" The black kwami kept chanting 'Camembert' and Damian sighed while getting off the bed to order some.

"Is food all you ever think about?"

"I can't control my hunger, Sugarcube!"

The bluenette watched the two kwami's banter, amused, and began to fully process the akuma attack. To think she was so close to death made her terrified, but she tried to think of the positives. Like how she and Damian could communicate without speaking, per se, or how he managed to call upon a weapon she had never seen before, his Cat-ana. She concluded it was the work of true miraculous magic and didn't question it further. She had something else she needed to think about. 'How do we fight Hawkmoth now? Obviously he's found out how to make his akumas stronger but he wouldn't go for the strongest one first without testing it. That would just be stupid. This akuma must've been a trial run' The thought worried her to no end. 'We were able to fight him off today but that doesn't guarantee us the win each time just by ourselves'

Soon, Damian returned with some Camembert and, unexpectedly, some cookies. When both kwamis flew to the plate and eat, the black-haired boy sat back down next to Marinette. "What are you thinking about?"

"If the Akuma today was just a test run to try out his new powers, Hawkmoth's akumas are going to get deadlier" The bluenette stated

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

She was silent for a few seconds, contemplating her answer. "I believe we should have some others join us on the field, as permanent holders" Damian nodded. "But we can deal with that later, right now I'm tired. Hold me please" the bluenette mumbled.

Damian adjusted himself so that Marinette could lay comfortably on his chest. "Rest well, mon cœur" he hummed and the bluenette slowly drifted to sleep, listening to his heartbeat. Damian averted his eyes to the ceiling, now was the time he could unleash a tiny amount of his anger. His hands turned to fists as he resisted the urge to punch the mattress. He blamed himself for Marinette's injury. 'Maybe if I could have convinced her earlier to use the miraculous then maybe she would not have gotten hurt' Damian forced himself not to dwell on the 'what if's and instead focused on the now, on Marinette. He could kill Hawkmoth later.

~~~

Adrien returned home from fencing class. The newest member, Maxime, was first denied entry which resulted in him getting akumatized. The blonde didn't expect the Akuma to be the danger that it was. Usually he would've jumped straight into battle but since he didn't have his miraculous anymore, he was forced to watch. Forced to watch as Ladybug struggled alone, forced to watch as she got injured. He hated not being able to do anything, not being able to save his friend and former partner. Luckily the new black cat stepped in, that was the only good thing he saw throughout the entire battle, except the end of it when the heroes won.

Adrien watched as the new black cat user stepped into battle, he couldn't help but feel a little jealous that he had been replaced so soon but he quickly pushed that feeling away. He wasn't the true user and this new hero probably was, he had no right to any entitlement of the miraculous. The blonde watched in awe at the new cat's fighting style, he looked as if he had been training his entire life for battle. Adrien also didn't fail to notice how Ladybug and the Cat were communicating, non verbally. There may have been words exchanged but Adrien never heard them as he was watching from behind a nearby building. This assumption was correct when Ladybug spoke to the hero verbally.

"The sword, Noir" the snarl coming from Ladybug was frightening to say the least but she did just get stabbed, he couldn't really blame her. The blonde noticed how some citizens around him shivered at the tone of the spotted heroine's voice.

The blonde watched as the new hero, Noir?, fought, more dueled, with Guerrier and couldn't help but be in extreme awe and admiration of this hero's skill. 'Where did Ladybug find him? He's incredible!' Paying even more attention to the battle, Adrien watched as Ladybug used her Lucky Charm to hold the Akuma's arms in place and how Noir swiftly stole the blade.

"Cataclysm"

'Well damn!' Adrien thought.

"His voice is hella attractive, I wanna marry it" he heard a citizen whisper, voicing his own thoughts. Though it did seem bad that that was the only thing they could think about, they had a point.

The usual actions after taking down the Akuma were done, the bright ladybugs healing everything damaged. Adrien ran up to the deakumatized victim.

"Maxime! Maître D'Argencourt said you can join the fencing club" He wanted to distract the boy from the fact that he had done something very wrong during his time of being an akuma, not as if he can remember it anyway. As he was about to leave, he heard Noir's voice again.

"Make sure he gets to where he needs to be, safely, Adrien" The blonde nodded, seeing that Ladybug was exhausted and probably needed to rest. He watched as both heroes bounded away, his gaze resting on where he last saw them both, only snapping out of the trance when Maxime asked what happened.

Adrien hoped that Ladybug wasn't too injured, she's far too valuable and important to be lost, especially at the beginning of, what looks like, Hawkmoth's new rise of power.

"Something tells me things are about to get a lot more serious from here on out"

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