#later and that’s not even getting into blood pressure which was usually in the

[fingertipsmp3]

Why did I cancel therapy and then cry about it

[nanaslutt]

Are the JJK men into their nipples being played with?

incl: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Choso

contains: fem reader, established relationships, multiple positions, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, hand jobs, overstimulation, masturbation, spanking, unprotected sex, fingering, dry humping, fluff, domesticness, comfort, Choso's is so soft

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Gojo: Yes. Every part of his body is freakishly sensitive it even shocks Gojo himself at times.

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The first time he discovered he could feel stimulation from his nipples was with you. You were on top of him, riding his cock like no tomorrow, the white-haired man groaning and spitting filth underneath you--when your hands came down to steady yourself on his pecs.

His breath hitched when your hands started rubbing back and forth along his pecs from your grinding, his nipples being stimulated in the process. It was a warm feeling, a feeling that blossomed throughout his whole body, one that traveled up to his brain and made him go dumb. He needed you to touch them more or he was going to lose it.

Gojo knew his nipples were sensitive, but more in an annoying way. He would sometimes notice the irritating feeling when he would pull on a shirt, or when the too-pressurized water stream of the showerhead assaulted the sensitive skin. But this was worlds different from that feeling.

"Fuck, baby- baby, need you to do something for me." He almost whined underneath you, nodding at you when he spoke. You continued bouncing on his cock, relishing in the feeling of his fat tip slamming into your sweet spot as you waited for him to speak. "Need you to play with my nipples baby, just h-how I do for you." He instructed, his tone coming out more desperate when his dick thrust inside you particularly hard, making your body jolt forward, your hands sliding across his chest simultaneously.

"Yeah?" You asked, your eyebrows raising at his surprising words. Gojo was always up for trying something new in bed, and this was a fairly normal request, you were shocked the two of you hadn't tried it before. Especially when you took his hard nipple between his fingers and pinched the little bud, going between rolling it around and circling his areola teasingly, which had Gojo gripping the sheets.

"Ohh fuck- nghhh- mama don't stop, d-don't fucking stop I'm gonna cum-" Gojo said, his face scrunched in overwhelming pleasure as desperate whines and moans spilled from his lips. His body jerked forward every time you pinched the pink buds between your fingers, making you blush at how sensitive your usually domineering boyfriend was from getting his nipples played with.

"You gonna cum from a little nipple play? hmm?" You asked teasingly, bringing one of your hands down to rub your clit in small quick circles, the sight of your boyfriend shaking and jerking against the sheets to arousing to stand. Gojo's jaw was slack as he nodded, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure as he tipped his head back, letting his body move in any way it needed while you gave him this insane pleasure.

The combination of you now grinding on his cock instead of bouncing, how tight you got around his dick when you played with your clit, your dirty words and mean fingers pinching his nipples; which were sure to be sore later; was all too much for Gojo. His hands grabbed your hips in an iron grip, his nails digging into your skin painfully, almost drawing blood, as the first ropes of his hot cum shot inside of you.

"Oh shit mama- so tight- fuck-" He groaned when he felt your high come right after his. Your walls constricted his cock as he came inside of you, your cunt greedily milking him and drinking up all his cum deep inside you. You collapsed on his chest with a sigh, his arms wrapping themselves around your back comfortingly as his dick twitched inside you in the aftershocks of his orgasm.

"Holy fuck." Gojo sighed exasperatedly. "Yeah.." You responded, breathing heavily on top of the large man. It took a while for Gojo to feel like his soul after such an intense orgasm. You were about to sit up and slide his cock out of you so the two of you could clean up and get to sleep, but his dick had other plans. "Toru.. why are you still hard even after cumming so much?" You asked, keeping your head on his heart, scared for his answer. "Started thinkin' about you suckin' on my nipples." He giggled, scratching your back lightly, "Wanna give it a try?"

—

Geto: Absolutely yes. I think he figured it out on his own. He was scrolling through a Twitter porn account and saw a video of a handsome guy jerking off while also playing with his nipples. He thought it looked enticing and Geto was willing to try everything in bed once, so he thought, why not? He was already jerking off, why not spice it up?

When he finished in record time after touching his nipples, he had to bring it up to you immediately. He needed to know how it felt with someone else's hands, so why not his beautiful girlfriend's? And of course, you were more than receptive to his proposition...

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"Fuck- suck harder, a little harder," Geto begged, his face screwed in pleasure. You were lying on the side of his body, your leg thrown over his thighs as you leaned over his chest a bit to lick and suck on his sensitive nipple, your hand rapidly stroking his hard cock as you did so. Geto's grip on your hair was so tight that the tingling sensation on your scalp was becoming more familiar and numb from how long he had been gripping it.

You listened to his words, suckling his stiff nipple harder into your mouth, rolling your tongue around it. Geto took a breath in through his teeth, trying to prevent himself from whimpering. "Fuuuuuuuck." He groaned, his head tipping back against the pillows.

His body jerked when you giggled around the bud, the noise sending vibrations through his chest, making his cock twitch in the process. "God I knew you fucking got me, baby, knew you would make me feel so f-fucking good." He praised, his chin tipped down to watch you suck on his chest, his eyes darting over to your hand soon after to stare at your wrist that rotated and twisted over his sensitive tip.

You moaned in response, acknowledging his words, and making his body jerk forward once more. "Think I'm gonna cum soon b-baby, keep sucking for me." He moaned, quickly pressing his lips together to prevent a pathetic whine that threatened to slip out of his mouth.

Geto brought his other hand down to yours, which was wrapped around your cock, and encased his hand over yours. "Need more... a l-little more." He said, gripping his hand tightly over yours, jerking himself off using your hand. He was squeezing it so tight, your hand was being crushed, you wondered how his iron grip didnt hurt his cock.

You moaned around him when you felt him help you jerk him off. Tightening your leg over his thighs more, you subtly started grinding your cunt on his thigh, trying to give yourself a little relief. Geto felt the ball of his impending orgasm grow tighter when he felt your cunt rub against him, your not so subtly show of your arousal at the situation made him feel dizzy; he wasn't the only one enjoying this.

"Oh fuck, this turning you on baby?" He asked, biting his lip when you nodded and moaned against his nipple, your lips popping off the bud briefly to circle his areola with your tongue. "Shit- gonna fuck you so good after this- gonna- gonna make sure you cum all over my cock for making me feel so good." He groaned, his words getting interrupted by lewd moans as he approached his high.

You felt yourself grow wetter at his words, excited for the promise of getting fucked into the sheets after he finished. "Fuck- It's coming, I'm coming, don't stop don't stop don't-" Geto's grip stayed at the same tightness in his cock, but his ability to jerk himself off was growing weaker as you worked him up to his high. He largely relied on your hand to keep jerking him off as he was tipped off the edge.

"Nghhhh- Fuck- Fuck- Baby ohmygod-" Geto babbled moans of your name, his body jerking, and eyes rolling back in his head while the waves of his orgasm washed over him. You mumbled 'mhm,mhm's' on his sensitive bud, making his orgasm even more intense with the nipple stimulation.

You never let up your fist, white ropes of cum spraying out of his big cock and landing all over your hands, creating lewd squelching noises as you jerked him through the aftershocks of his high. "I fucking love you so much.. hahh.. fuck." Geto moaned, his glossy eyes staring at the ceiling as his body twitched, his breath hitching through the attempts to suck down as much air as he could into his lungs.

You wasted no time popping off his nipple with a cute 'ahhh' sound and sliding your body to sit on top of his. You pulled your panties to the side and lined up his still-hard cock with your unprepped entrance before he could even register what was happening. His hands shot to grab your waist in alarm when you sat down fully on his sensitive cock with no warning, making his body curl in on itself.

"H-hold on gotta give me a second baby, I just came-" You cut him off before he could continue his protests. "Need it now Sugu, can't wait." And with that you placed your hands on his chest and took his swollen nippled between your fingers, pinching the other one simultaneously as you rode his cock, making incoherent please and whines spill from the dark-haired man's lips as he was fucked into overstimulation.

—

Nanami: unfortunately, I don't think he has a lot of feeling in his nipples, but he wouldn't be opposed to you playing with them or sucking on them if you really wanted to. He is in love with you after all, whatever you want, you get.

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You walk into the kitchen with tired eyes, rubbing the sleep from them using the back of your hand. Immediately, the smell of bacon and eggs fills your nose, making you salivate. What makes you salivate even more is the gorgeous view of your husband standing in front of the stove, shirtless.

Angry red scratches litter his pale back from the night before, making you blush. The sun is shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating his hair appear like little strands of gold. You walk up behind Nanami, adorned in only one of his house T-shirts, and wrap your arms around his torso, your hands finding home on his toned midsection.

"Good morning my love, did you sleep alright? I kept you up pretty late last night, sorry about that." Nanami voiced, smiling slightly at his own words. You hum into his back, starting to feel up his body under your hands, feeling in between the indents of his abs, "Slept so good Kento." You purred.

He laughed, briefly looking away from the stove to look down at your hands, groping his body slowly. "Good." He replied, looking back to the stove, and flipping the eggs. "Are you enjoying yourself?" He added when he felt your hands slide up to his pecs, massaging them the way he always did for you.

"Mhmm.. I love your body Kento, you're so strong." You whisper, your face pressed to his back making your words vibrate through his skin. Your words make him blush, he was thankful he was faced away from you or you would've teased him for sure. "I'm glad, It's all you sweetheart." He responded, making you blush in turn.

You bit your lip, nuzzling your head into his back, your hair tickling his skin. An idea popped into your head as you felt up his chest when your fingers briefly brushed over his nipples, so you decided to act on it. With a smirk, you found his nipples with both of your fingers and with a featherlight touch, you started to tease around his nipples, "Even these?" You asked, referring to his earlier statement of his body being yours.

Nanami turned off the heat of the stove, covering the eggs with the lid of the pan before he looked down with a slightly open mouth, watching you play with his nipples. His abs clenched at the unexpected feeling when you pinched them between your fingers--not because it felt good per se... It just felt like you were pinching his skin, not bad just... well he didnt really feel much, to be honest.

He smiled when you continued, clearly wanting a reaction out of him. "Yes, even those." He laughed, his breathing and words still infuriatingly even and calm. "Kento, does this not feel good?" You asked, going back to rubbing your fingers around his arolas, waiting for him to respond.

He took a second to find his words before he responded, you were obviously enjoying yourself so he didnt want to deter you or crush your spirits too much. "It's not that, I just don't really feel much there." He replied, covering your hands with his larger ones, interlacing your fingers with his, and stopping your movements.

"I've tried to touch them myself when I was... ahem, I found out then that I couldn't feel anything there. Which is a bummer, seeing as how you go a bit crazy when I touch yours." He laughed softly. "Must feel good, huh?" You sighed against his back, obvious disappointment in your breathing.

"I'm sorry my love." He said, releasing your hands to turn around and hold you in his embrace, his warm body radiating into your skin, making you relax as you shut your eyes and let his body engulf yours, the man slowly rocking back and forth. "It's okay Kento, just thought you would have some cute reaction." You said. You felt his chest shake against your head, the man giving a soft laugh at your words. "Ughhhh, why does your body hate meee." You sighed dramatically, pouting your bottom lip out.

"I assure you my body doesn't hate you." He said, pulling away he held your cheeks in his hands, his deep eyes looking into yours as he spoke. "Need I remind you how we ended up all over each other for hours last night? Hm?" He said, tilting his head at you and furrowing his eyebrows together.

You blushed deeply at his words. The two of you were shopping for dinner, when a little boy came up behind you, taking on the calf of your pants. The boy had gotten lost in the supermarket, and with a crying face, he had asked you to help him find his mom. The way you knelt down to speak to the child, the way your hand engulfed his little one, the way you held him, Nanami couldn't stop thinking about how good you were with the child. Which led him to pounding you into the sheets as he whispered in your ear how much he wanted to give you his babies.

You looked away from his face, he was right after all. Nanami got aroused whenever you looked in his general direction for christ's sake, how could his body hate you? "O..okay.. I guess I'll let it go this time." You said, still looking away from his face in embarrassment.

Nanami laughed, leaning down he pressed a long kiss to your forehead before pulling away, his hands tucking your straw strands of hair behind your ear. "Let's eat now alright? After breakfast, if you still need a little reminder of how much my body loves you, I'll be happy to show you as well." You were left a blushing mess when Nanami turned around to grab the plates, setting up the food. Maybe you should tease him more if this was going to be the result.

—

Toji: I think his chest is sensitive, but he doesn't like it when you touch his chest for that same reason. He's too sensitive. Toji likes being in charge and of course he wants you to be happy no matter what, but he cannot stand being teased; which is exactly what you would do if you got the chance to touch his nipples.

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Toji always looked so good in his compression shirt. The tight article of clothing makes every single muscle on Toji's large frame stand out too well. You have to stop yourself from drooling every time he wears it.

One day, Toji was working out in the home gym the two of you had built, and you walked in to ask him what he wanted for dinner when you saw him. He was bench-pressing a shocking amount of weight, lying on his back with his legs spread. His bulge was very obvious through his sweats, the sight making your mouth water.

Along with that sight though, as you got closer you could see Toji's nipples were hard through his shirt, the little buds just aching to be sucked on. When you got within Toji's eyesight he turned his head over to you, not stopping his workout as he spoke to you slightly out of breath, "What's up doll, come to workout with me?" He asked, smirking.

"I'd rather just watch you." You said, leaning against the equipment next to him, your eyes shamelessly raking over his body and taking in his impressive frame. He laughed, pausing his set he leaned up, sitting on the edge of the bench, his legs spread. "Cmere pretty." He asked, waiting for you to take your place between his thighs.

He held his hands out when you got close, his large hands wrapping around your waist when you got within range, his strong arms pulling you into his lap. You had no idea how he had barely even broken a sweat, you swear you worked out for thirty seconds and you needed to change shirts.

You wrapped your arms over his shoulders, his hands sliding down to grab your ass as he pulled you into him, making you sit right on top of his crotch--you could feel his bulge right under you, making you feel a new type of need. "Whachu need pretty girl?" Toji asked, raising his eyebrows before he leaned in to kiss your neck, peppering his lips all over your skin.

You sighed at the feeling, your breath picking up while he continued teasing you. You pressed the back of his head into your neck, your other hand still wrapped around his neck. "Mmm, wanted to know what you wanted for d-diner." You whispered, tipping your head back to give him more access. Your breath hitched when he sunk his teeth into your skin, his tongue licking over the spot to soothe the sting afterward.

He pulled back, his lips a bit red and glossy from the assault on your neck. "You." He said with a smirk. You could feel your cunt throbbing from his kisses, and his words and hands groping your ass was not making that any better. "Baby~" You drawled, holding his sweaty face in your hands, his dark eyes staring into yours.

With a sigh and a pat on your ass he shrugged, "I don't care, you pick. As long as you're desert." He winked, making you burst into giggles, he could be so corny sometimes. "Alright baby, up, gotta finish this set then you can sit on me all you want." He said, leaning back down to lay on the bench, his hips thrusting up as he got into position, making his dick press right against your clit.

"Hold on.." You mumbled, leaning your hands on his chest. Toji was about to reach up for the bar when he watched you duck underneath it and lean onto his chest. He thought you were hugging him, but when he felt your fingers flick over his covered nipples, followed by a shock that ran through his entire body and straight to his cock, he froze in place.

You flicked your fingers back and forth over the buds quickly, trying to test his sensitivity there. Toji's face scrunched in pleasure, his jaw muscles bulging under the weight of his teeth as he bit down hard, a shaky moan coming through his nose. You looked up, watching his face contort into pleasure, one of his eyes shut as he grimaced trying to fight off the pleasure when you pinched his left nipple, rolling it between your fingers.

You smiled in surprise, feeling his cock harden underneath you, the two of your crotches pressed firmly against one another. "Didn't know you were sensitive here." You laughed, "Just wanted to fuck around, but you're really reacting to this." Toji's mouth opened when your other hand mimicked your ministrations and pinched his nipple, hard.

The next thing Toji did made both of you freeze in place. Toji let out a loud whimper. Not a groan, not a whine, a high-pitched, loud, whimper. You didnt even know that kind of sound could come out of Toji, the sound immediately making your face flush, his hips jerking into yours at the same time the whimper slipped out.

A blush spread across Toji's face before his eyes shot open, staring into yours. His hands imediately came down to grab your wrists, pulling them away from his chest in an iron grip god himself couldn't get out of. After a brief moment of silence, save for the heavy breathing, you spoke. "Did you just-" Before you could even get your words out you were being grabbed in Toji's strong grip.

The man was standing in an instant, throwing you over his shoulder, your ass poking out next to his face. He walked quickly and angrily towards the exit of the gym that let back into the house, where Toji was about to throw you over the couch in the foyer and fuck the shit out of you. You knew you fucked up with how quiet he was being, not a work from his lips since the whimper.

"Toji-" You started, once again your words immediately being cut off when he landed a heavy smack against your ass, the sting making whine, one of your hands coming to cover your ass so he couldn't hit you again. "Think It's fun to humiliate me like that?" He growled, pulling open the gym door in one swift movement, leaving it open behind him as he stormed through it.

"Toji don't be embarrassed, It just means you felt good- Ahh!" You whined, your hand being swatted out of the way so he could land another harsh smack against the fat of your ass. It was disorienting in the way he threw you off of his shoulder and spun you around, bending you over the back of the couch.

He grabbed your hips in his large hands, and soon after you felt his rock-hard-clothed cock rub against your folds, making you press your legs together. "Don't give me that shit, saw the way you were smilin', fuckin' brat," Toji growled, spanking your ass once more before he yanked your pants midway down your thighs, spreading your cheeks apart so he could get a good look at you.

Toji was glad you were facing away from him, his face was still so red from embarrassing himself in front of you like that, his nipples still buzzing with the feeling of where your fingers once were. "Gonna fuck you till you're crying like a little bitch, and don't say you can't take it because you will." Toji spat down onto your spread ass, the glob of spit rolling down your puckered hole to mix with your wetness, Toji's finger soon coming down to rub the wetness around there, preparing you for what was to come.

You might die from his cock, but the mental recording you had of Toji whimpering from his nipples, was so fucking worth it.

—

Choso: I think they're moderately sensitive, but nothing like Geto or Gojo's. Believe it or not, he wishes they were more sensitive. He has made you cum from playing with your nipples, and dry humping you. You made it look a fucking treat, but no matter how hard he tries, it never feels as good as it looks like yours do.

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"C'mon Cho, close your eyes, you can do it." You whispered, slowly grinding on his clothed dick, his nipples being tweaked between your fingers. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to focus on the feeling of your warm panty-clad cunt rubbing along the length of his stiff cock.

You had tried circling around them, sucking them, pinching and rubbing them, and he just wasn't reciprocating any of it, it was making him so frustrated that it was almost hard to enjoy. He held his breath, hearing somewhere that asphyxiation can heighten arousal... and of course, he had no luck.

He groaned, cracking his eyes open he looked up at you with a pout, looking like he was going to cry. "I.. I can't cum like this." He said defiantly, making you cease your actions. His nipples were sore at his point, the hardened buds hot and throbbing now that you had stopped. Choso looked away from you, embarrassed he couldn't even manage to do this when it was so easy for you.

"Choso," You said, placing your hands on his abs, stopping your grinding on top of his still-hard cock. "Choso." You repeated, forcefully turning his head to look at you. He looked over at you with a red face, disappointment obvious on his features. "All bodies are different, I just happen to be more sensitive up there. You're not, and that's okay," you said, caressing his face. Choso leaned into your touch like a cat, sighing heavily.

"It's just frustrating. I want to feel good like you do too." He said, his eyes locking onto yours finally. You smiled, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. "I know, but you can feel good in so many other ways. And we can keep trying." You said softly. "Overtime, the more you play with them, your sensitivity will get more intense, so maybe one day you'll be able to finish from touching your chest alone." You reassure.

That actually did make him feel better, his disappointment slightly fading away at your words--but now he was left with another dilemma plaguing his mind, the atmosphere was a lot different now from having to take a break to console him. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he looked away from your eyes again. "I.. I ruined the moon didnt I?" He asked, feeling childish for getting upset at such a moment at what seemed like such a small thing.

Your giggle brought his eyes back to you as he looked at you curiously. "Choso no! Absolutely not!" You reassured. "If you ever need to take a break for any reason during a moment like this, that's more than okay." He looked down, not seeming totally convinced as he took in your words.

"Don't believe me?" You asked challengingly. Taking your hand you grabbed his, pulling it down to where you sat on top of him. You slid your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to his blushing face. He watched with a slacked jaw as you pressed his fingers against your pussy, making him feel how wet you are. "You feel that?" You asked, holding his wrist to make him rub you back and forth.

He nodded, looking between your eyes and his hand you were using to touch yourself. "Still think you ruined the mood? Hmm?" You ask breathily. Choso takes control over his own hand again, his cock twitching back to life after softening slightly. He rubbed his fingers through your folds, catching the tip of his thick finger on the entrance of your cunt he slowly pressed on it, his finger sliding in with ease.

"Fuckk.." You gasped, feeling the girth of his finger slip inside you. The warmth and tightness of your cunt made him forget all of his doubts and worries in an instant. "You're so wet.." He mumbled, slowly thrusting his finger in and out of you, making sure to curl it upwards, rubbing against your sweet spot.

"All for you Cho, all cos of you." You said, watching his hand work inside of you, his heavy palm rubbing your clit perfectly as he fingered you on top of him. Your hands came down to rub at his boxers, your fingers teasing his clothed tip before you pulled the cloth down, exposing his insanely large and dripping length.

He watched with bated breath as you took him in your hands and stroked him up and down, using his precum to aid the slide. "Want me to show you how much of a mood I'm still in?" You giggled, rubbing his frenulum teasingly. Choso gulped, hard. "I love you." He mumbled, the words spilling from his lips like the most natural thing in the world. Your eyebrows raised in shock before you laughed, pausing your minstrations on his cock.

You leaned down, stroking his dick softly until your lips met his ear, giving him a soft kiss on his neck before you uttered the words, "I love you too."

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE HUSBAND x GN CELEBRITY!READER

— based off of a dream i had of a childhood friend/crush. hiatus not over tho lol.

— morally bankrupt reader. clingy husband. the usual yandere stuff.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who was your childhood best friend. Your parents shipped you two since you could speak.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who had a crush on you since forever. He doesn’t even remember a time where he didn’t get butterflies and an aching need to be the only one close to you

YANDERE! HUSBAND who’s the biggest flirt. He knows you the best. Although you were completely oblivious. He’d always try to be around you, compliment you, tease you.

He’d give you matching keychains, and would beg his parents to buy whatever gift he’d think you’d like.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who sadly had to move away for a while. He comes back during high school. And the first thing he asks while he’s there? To be put in the same class as you.

Now that you two are older, you finally started to notice how much of a tease he was. Always grappling unto a piece of your attention.

You acquiesce and begin to date him. Not necessarily feeling anything for the guy but thought it was high time that you finally settle down. It was the perfect storyline you could share once your ambitions were fulfilled.

That and cause your parents would only let you go to acting school if he married you.

Which you two eventually did before college. Was it rushed? Definitely. Did you even love the guy? Nuh uh. But you had places you had your sights set on. And he was the only path.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who drops out to be your full time househubby. His parents could always give him a job at their corporation anyways. There was no real pressure for him to study and get a job.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who almost always supports your acting career. Watching all your shows, movies, and interviews. Basically buying out all the merch you featured in. And paying advertisers across the globe to have your face plastered everywhere.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who unfortunately stops you from having any romantic or sexual scenes. Essentially blocking you from any roles that could be your breakthrough just cause it could have a tiny kiss or so.

Your anger at his blatant attempt to have control over you began simmering. Ever so slowly reaching the surface. Not improving at all when you found out he’d been trying out a job that his mother gave him.

Fuck the gifts. Fuck the yachts and cars he’d swarm you with. Why did he get to do what he wanted and you didn’t?

So you follow him to work once, only to catch him in a compromising position with a coworker.

You didn’t care about him or his business beneath the sheets really. So you had to thank the gods above that you knew exactly what and how to do the following act.

Cry. Scream. Throw things at them.

The coworker already left. Shuffling as they tried to hide from your anger.

Your husband is unresponsive. Catatonic. Even more of an excuse to hurt him.

You call him filthy, uncaring, the worst man to ever exist. Hell, even some of your true feelings come out as you yelled about how you regretted ever being with him.

You find out later from his mom that he had been framed. That this coworker was just trying to get money out of the heir.

Still, you wanted out. He had already served his purpose and you needed to expand your horizons.

A week later of radio silence from him as you prepared the divorce papers he walks in.

Covered in red his hands caressed your face,

“You called me filthy did you not? So I cleansed myself with their blood.”

[chrissdollie]

Could you pls write something about chris with a gf who has an oral fixation which can get rly bad when she’s anxious leading to her biting on her nails or lips too much to the point of bleeding and chris being the best bf he is lets her suck on his fingers for stres relief and maybe even his dick 🎀

　𐔌　yummy, huh?　₊˚ ♡

︵︵　notes: reader has an oral fixation (duh), sfw + nsfw, finger sucking, oral (m receiving), soft dom chris, hinted dumbification, shy reader, pet names (baby, sweetheart, honey) ︵︵　word count: 1.2k

you'd been able to keep your nails a good length for a few weeks. little to no biting on the edges allowed them to grow longer than they usually were due to your bad habit.

but now, as you nervously sit in front of your computer on a zoom call with-- wow that's a lot of people... anyway, you bounce your leg on the floor, staring at your desired university's entrance exam. you're not even halfway through the test, it's only been like.. an hour?

your boyfriend, chris, who's only a few feet away from you, has attended this college for a year. you've been on campus more times than you can count, and you absolutely adore it there. everyone's so kind, and you always asked chris to explain what his classes were like to you. and it seemed like a place where you'd fit in perfectly. you wanted to get in, so so badly. the only issue is the overwhelming pressure.

anxiously, you bring your thumb to your mouth, nibbling on your lengthy nail as you reread the same prompt over and over again, unable to process a single word.

"hey, no. your nail baby."

you glance up from your laptop's bright screen to your boyfriend, whose gaze left his phone. you nod dumbly, snatching your finger away from your face and returning your attention back to the exam. yet not even ten seconds later, you're chewing on your pouty bottom lip, frustratedly picking at the lace trim of your tank top.

you hear a gentle sigh from across you, though you don’t bother to release your teeth from your slightly bloodied lip.

chris stands up from his chair, leaving his phone on the table. "is your camera off?" he asks, as you look up and shake your head, humming a soft "nuh uh" in response.

he nods to himself, picking up your laptop. he nudges his head over to the cozy sofa, leading the way as you pad your feet closely behind. he waits for you to sit down before laying your computer on your bare thighs and plopping down next to you. you get comfortable, nuzzling into your boyfriend as he wraps a beefy arm around your shoulder, his hand resting in front of your face.

“we talked about you hurting yourself honey,” he coos, swiping his thumb across the drop of blood and rubbing it into his index finger. he caresses your cheek all puffy with frustration as you huff quietly. he kisses your shoulder softly. “told ya you could .. use me— pause,” he giggles, squeezing his eyes shut.

you grin, leaning in closer to chris’ warmth. he hums and raises his eyebrows. “well— actually, you could ‘use me’ in that way too, just not right now,” he chuckles, rubbing his thumb between your lips.

he falls quiet for a few seconds, his steady breathing being the only noise. his thumb continues to glide across your mouth, subtly pushing its way inside. you realize what he’s doing now, and you feel almost too shy to follow his idea. closing your eyes, you let out a soft whine, a flush of embarrassment creeping over you.

chris giggles again, almost teasingly this time, and pushes his thumb past your lips. his painted nail rests beneath the roof of your mouth. you tentatively suck on the tip of his finger, trying your best not to scratch him with your teeth.

“atta girl,” he coos sweetly, pressing his back into the cushions. “now keep taking your test kay? don’t worry about me.”

“okay,” you whisper against his finger.

he grins proudly after a few minutes as you’re able to lock in to your studious mindset and fly by questions, your fingers clacking against the keyboard rapidly. you don’t notice, too absorbed in your exam, but chris slowly begins drifting off to sleep as you suck his thumb like a precious baby.

“yummy, huh?” he mutters, gently pressing more of his finger into your cavern. you throw him a playful side eye before delicately pressing your teeth into his skin. he yelps with a boyish cackle, digging his face into your arm. his thumb slips out a little, and you apologize with a giggle, grabbing his hand and guiding him back to your mouth.

you finish the test not too long after. you feel a wave of relief wash over you as you exit the zoom call after typing a quick, "thank you!" in the chat box. chris hums, watching you close your laptop with a dreamy sigh. his thumb gently slips from your mouth. you dumbly blink at him, kind of wishing he'd let it stay in. he giggles, kissing your shoulder again. his manspread unintentionally widens as a gentle smirk replaces his sweet laugh.

not even ten seconds passed before his semi-hard cock was out of his boxers and in your soft hands. forgoing your usual foreplay, you go straight ahead into sucking his tip with ease. he lets out a small hiss, gripping the back of your head with a large hand. his head falls back against the couch's fluffy cushion, softly playing with your hair.

soon his length is partially shoved in your mouth. chris picks up his head with pinched eyebrows. "haaah," he sighs, pushing some hair out of your face to stare at your full face and watery eyes. "teeth, baby, gentle," he coos, wiping a tear falling down your puffed out cheek. you pull up from his long dick to suckle on the top of his head, swirling your tongue around swiftly. he lightly moans when you place a gentle kiss right on his tip, whispering how good you are.

"s yummy h-huh?" he mutters for the second time, wishing he hadn't left his phone at the table so he could take a picture. you looked so ethereal like this, sweet and dumb as you take his cock. and you aren't even doing it for him, he's just a toy for you to use. he grunts at the thought, and seeing saliva drip past your lips. he hums contently, gently pulling you off him and sliding a finger under your chin. he bends down to where you are on the floor to lick up your spit and push it back to your mouth in a messy kiss. you don't speak when he slowly pulls away, mousily blinking back at him with your head all fuzzy and numb.

he caresses your face with a thumb. "whaddya say sweetheart?" he murmurs, planting a peck on your chin. your thighs rub together as you latch onto his leg. "thank you," you whisper, lightly biting your lip. chris chuckles, readjusting himself before pulling you onto his lap. he sways you slowly, whispering how proud of you he is and how you'll finally get to go to school together. before you know it, your eyes flutter shut, the soothing rocking lulling you into a peaceful doze.

@leah-loves-lilies @1everythingmustgo @star-sturn @junnniiieee07 @freshloveee @freshsturns @emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668 @chrissturnsss @joanofarcily @mattscoquette @slutsturn @sturnioloremarker @ashley9282828 @jnkvivi @sturncakez @lanasturn @riasturns @st7rnioioss @strnlxlqve @starlace111 @mattsfavbigtitties@stvrlighht @mattttypooh @harrys-whorecrux @cherry-red-heart @mattslolita @sturniowhore @mininishiriki @zayluvss @luvb0xoxo @sturnsmia

[bubblegumgothglados]

This is a RACK focused best practice guide to doing a drowning scene, more specifically a scene where you're repeatedly forcing your victims head under the water. These are my suggestions based on extensive research but they are only theoretical i haven't got to do this to anyone yet. If you have actual experience id love to hear from you please.

Pre-scene setup

Learn CPR. This is the single thing that I'm going to say is mandatory, everything else is just a suggestion this isn't. If worst comes to worst and your victim is drowning you need to be able to save their life.

Learn your victim. How do they react in pain, when they're scared or panicking, where are there mental breaking points. Especially helpful to have done breath play with them before, how long can they hold their breath, how hard will they fight, what are their non verbal cues. Are they the type of person who will push their limits past the danger point, are you comfortable shutting the scene down when they're begging you to continue.

Figure out your nonverbal communication. A safeword is important but not nearly enough for a scene like this. Their head is going to be underwater most if the time and they'll probably be struggling and fighting. What signs can they make to tell you to stop or slow down under these conditions. I would suggest giving them something to hold that can make noise, a squeaky toy or a clicker or something similar, with which to signal you.

During the scene

Use warm water. Cold water adds a whole plethora of new problems significantly increasing the risk. I'm not sure of the exact temperature but I think it should be either room temperature so your victim doesn't feel a temperature difference between the air and the water, or body temperature so the water doesn't change their core temperature. (If you'd like to use cold water or even ice water, if that's part of the appeal, ill happily figure out the additional risks in exchange for a video of you drowning your victim ^.^)

Watch their face. Like any other form of breath play hypoxia is a major risk. This post isn't about breath play, I'm assuming you know all those risks and how to manage them before you do something like this.

Start slow. Put your hand on their head but let them submerge themselves and then come back up when they're ready. This will get them used to the sensation and you used to the rhythm. Slowly increase pressure and intensity until you're forcing their head under and pulling it up against their will.

Have the person fill their lungs to capacity before submerging them. The reason being they will have to breath out before they breath water back in so as soon as you see the first sign of bubbles you can pull them out.

After care

This scene will be intense so the aftercare needs to be too. Again this post isn't about proper aftercare I'm assuming you know how to do that if you're doing something like this. But in addition to the usual.

Have a plan for monitoring your victim for the next 72 hours. There are two major complications that can occur after a drowning incident and both can take days to present themselves. The first is when a persons throat spasms and closes, this is supposed to happen when they initially inhale water but can happen much later. The signs to look out for include persistent coughing, irregular breathing, dizziness, confusion, and foam around the mouth and nose. The second is when water gets deep into the lunges it can cause fluid to build up which inhibits gas exchange causing the person to slowly suffocate. The signs to look out for can include coughing up blood, excessive sweating, anxiety, pale skin, and a crackling sound when breathing deeply. If your victim shows any of these signs get them to a medical professional asap, don't risk it these will both cause very painful death.

Enjoy ^.^

[aurumalatus]

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟒]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.4k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, cursing, mentions of abuse/alcoholism, mentions of broken bones

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. i've been SO busy this week, but i hope this chapter still meets everyone's expectations ;-;. unedited for now, but please enjoy and pls pls lmk what you think! reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚'𝗦 𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗣𝗔𝗖𝗘

Kinich breaks his arm when he’s eleven.

It had, admittedly, been stupid of him. He’s always been partial to extreme sports, as many members of his tribe are, but he’d gone a bit too far that day with his grappling, and it all came crashing down in an unceremonious heap. He more than anyone knows how unforgiving the ground can be, so it’d been a foolish endeavor in the first place.

Dizzy, he tries to push himself to his knees before crying out in pain—it’s his right arm. He can’t put any pressure on it all, at least unless he gets used to the shooting pain that overwhelms his senses. He leans on it again, testingly, before wincing.

No, there’s no getting used to a pain like that.

Surveying the land nearby, he notes the sharp, menacing rocks that dot the riverbed—he’d been lucky to land where he did. He decides he won’t fill you in on that detail. After all, you’ll be mad enough as it is.

As far as he knows, you’re still at home at this time, but you’ll be out delivering medicines later as a courier—the village apothecary trusts you with the work, and there are few others willing to do it. Plus, you learn a few things along the way. Kinich notices that you’re becoming quite skilled in certain remedies.

In general, the work the two of you participate in is rarely safe—safe work doesn’t make Mora, and it’s hard to feed two mouths without coin. Kinich himself usually takes jobs that see more combat, involving Saurians or any other odd tasks. So it’s not uncommon that he comes home with injuries, but it’s never been this bad. Something like this spells out a lack of work for at least several weeks, maybe more.

He sighs, briefly considering whether or not he should hide it.

But you seem to have a sixth sense for these things, and he’s truly lousy at lying when it comes to you, so he decides against it. Instead, he rises to his feet, groaning at the feeling of his pants sticking to his skin, still soaked.

The journey home feels three times as long.

He hadn’t risked grappling again with one arm, so he had walked, the hot sun beating down on his skin. When he thinks about it, he can’t really remember how he had put up with having to walk everywhere—grappling truly saves him so much time out of his day. The small building at the foot of the mountain enters his sight after what feels like an eternity, an even smaller form standing just outside of it.

“Kinich!”

As he grows closer, a certain affection seeps into his chest at the sight of your grin, toothy and bright. You’re carrying a wicker basket on your hip, filled to the brim with fruits and vegetables—dinner for tonight, most likely. 

He never quite gets used to your excitement whenever he returns to the small house you share. It’s as if every day is your first day seeing him, or like he’s just returned home from a year-long journey. At most, he’d been gone a few hours.

“Hey,” he says, smiling faintly. For a moment, he almost forgets he has something to tell you, simply satisfied with your presence. It’s only when you scamper to his side that he becomes hyper-aware of his arm.

“Wait!” he hisses, just as you reach for him. You stop in your tracks, lips barely parted in an ‘o’ shape. He takes a cursory step away from you, blood freezing in his veins when your face drops at the distance.

“I broke my arm,” he quickly admits. Your brows knit together as you give him a once-over.

“What?!” you half-yell, nearly dropping the goods in your hands—Kinich has to catch the basket with his good hand, wincing at the volume.

“I was grappling, and I messed up, and I…I landed in the river.”

The whole thing sounds ridiculous as soon as it leaves his lips. You seem to think so too, based on the way you blankly look between him and his arm. You’re thinking, hard.

“And you’re sure it’s broken?” He nods, sighing. “I’m sure.”

Truly, he’s never experienced pain like that in his life—at least not the physical kind. His father’s beatings usually ended in bruises, but he was always able to escape out the door before they got to this point. But the way his arm hangs uselessly at his side is certainly unfamiliar.

Fingers pressed thoughtfully to your chin, you look toward the house.

“Well, I have the materials to make a splint, but that means you won’t be able to use that arm for a while.”

Kinich frowns. A while could be a long time, and time he isn’t working is time that Mora isn’t being made. The two of you could survive decently on your farming and hunting alone, but it would be hard labor for you. He’s unsure how much help he can be with only one usable arm.

“But—”

“—and I already know,” you interrupt smoothly, “that you’re not going to argue about that. Because that would make me really annoyed, right? Because your arm is clearly broken, right?”

Kinich presses his lips together tightly. It’s probably not the best idea to fight you on this. So he merely sighs, walking toward the front door.

“Fine.”

“Good!” you cheer, hoisting the basket to your side again, following closely in his wake. “Then I’ll make dinner for us, and you try not to make trouble for me!”

He rolls his eyes; he never makes trouble for you the way you do for him.

/

If there’s one thing that truly bothers Kinich, it’s being unproductive.

He’s not unreasonable about it, per say; after all, breaks can be productive too if they improve your work. But it’s to the point that there’s rarely moments where he truly isn’t doing anything. He’d grown up that way, always on the move, always doing something for the sake of survival.

That apparently includes moments when his arm is broken, set firmly at his side in a splint.

You’re preparing vegetables for dinner when Kinich plops into the chair at your side, quietly asking what he can help with.

You send him an incredulous look, still cautious about your fingers under the shadow of the knife.

“Your arm is broken, Kin.”

And you’re right, but the notion irritates him a bit—the idea of doing absolutely nothing while you prepare all the food. He folds his arms on the table, resting his chin atop with a scowl. His golden eyes passively watch each cut of the potato, the neat chunks gathering on one side of the cutting board.

“So? I can still help.”

A heated exchange occurs—you stare at him questioningly, and he stares right back, determined. Within the past few years, the two of you have reached the point of nonverbal communication. Sometimes, he truly feels like you can read his mind.

“Fine,” you relent, gently placing your knife down. You slide the basket of vegetables to him, gesturing towards it with your chin. “Pick out the good ones and give them to me.”

Kinich looks unamused, unsatisfied with the difficulty of his task, and his mouth opens like he’s about to say more when you shake your head.

“Please?”

And he really can’t take that look you give him, when your eyes widen and your lip juts out, so he merely sighs, pulling the basket closer to himself.

“Alright, alright.”

The room grows comfortably quiet, save for the even thuds of your knife against the cutting board. Kinich listens to your sonorous hum as you smile and sway to the sound of your own music. He takes his job seriously, too—he squeezes at each potato, feeling for the right ripeness.

“Is that a good one?” you ask, nodding toward the vegetable in his hand.

He frowns. “It’s okay.”

Kinich tends to be a bit strict about his vegetables—he gets it from his mother. Rarely is he ever truly satisfied with a harvest. Based on your impatient stare, you’re probably realizing this isn’t the best job for him after all.

“It’s probably good enough,” you say. Kinich looks at the potato thoughtfully for a moment before setting it down before you.

He still has trouble accepting the idea of being good enough.

You engage in a bit of small chatter, discussing your plans for the next few days and funny things that have occurred recently. Kinich enjoys these moments the most, the feeling of belonging, of caring—the way your eyes sparkle genuinely as he recounts his day, or the way you giggle hearing about the gossip overhead in the village.

“I’m gonna head to the market tomorrow, so let me know if you need anything.”

Your lip curls in disapproval, gaze drifting to his arm.

“I can go this time,” you say, concern written over your face. Then, you add teasingly, “since I know you hate having to get along with all those people in town.”

Kinich glares at you, sour.

“I know how to get along with people.”

You smile, and Kinich remembers when you told him that you like when he acts a bit childish, a bit more like you. It reminds you that you are the same age after all. It’s a bit difficult to realize in your daily life, when he’s always nagging and protecting and working. 

“Is that why all the others run away at the sight of you? Ever since we went to school, they’ve been avoiding you.”

And Kinich can admit that he isn’t the easiest person to get along with, but the kids at the village school aren’t the kind of people he wants to get along with anyway—the one day he spent in class made that much clear. They don’t understand the realities of living the way he does, the way you do. 

Really, he considers it a success that they seem to steer clear of him now.

“What about you?” he counters. “You’re not exactly a social butterfly, living out here in the woods. The most social interaction you get is in the market, just like me.”

It’s your turn to be offended, a pout crossing your lips.

“I’ll have you know they like me in the market.”

Kinich quirks a brow, handing you another potato.

“They like you because you take whatever price they offer,” he replies flatly. “I really need to teach you to barter.”

Everyone knows how notorious Kinich is in the market—he’s a menace with Mora in hand, even at your age. It’s one of the reasons that he’s so insistent that he be the one to do your shopping, besides the fact that he doesn’t like you traveling alone.

“I can barter,” you defend, pouting. “I just feel bad. What if they need that extra Mora?”

“You know we also need that Mora, right?”

Kinich flicks at your forehead with his good hand, faintly smirking when you sulk in response. Brushing off your hands, you lift the cutting board toward the pot on the stove. He lets his gaze follow you, curious.

“Enough about me,” you declare, glaring playfully. “If you want to eat, help me start cooking these.”

When Kinich eats that night, a simple meal of curry and rice, he thinks it might just be the most delicious food he’s ever had.

/

A few weeks later, Kinich finds himself lying side by side with you in your bed, staring at the ceiling.

You’d been telling him about something amusing you saw on one of your deliveries, and he makes a point to listen to all your stories, no matter how small they are. The moon is peeking over the horizon by the time that you finish, and Kinich glances over at his own bed across the room.

He’s not really sleepy yet, he reasons. You don’t seem to be either, based on the way you stare at his side profile.

“Your hair is getting long,” you murmur, taking a lock between your index and thumb. It’s a bit rough to touch—Kinich doesn’t tend to be gentle when he washes up. Neither of you really are, not when the river water is as chilly as it is.

He sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face. It’s a perpetual messiness that you think suits him, in a way.

“I know, it got in my eyes when I was grappling and I couldn’t see. That’s how I fell.” He glances at you, deadpan. “Should I just shave it off?”

The idea leaves you giggling—the image of it is certainly vivid. 

“I don’t think you should go that far, but I do think we have to do something. Otherwise, you might snap all your bones at this rate.”

He huffs, immediately defensive. “I would not—”

“I’m joking,” you soothe, chuckling. You card your fingers through his hair absentmindedly, humming—Kinich has to keep himself from melting into your touch. The room grows a tad warmer by the time your voice echoes again, barely a squeak from your throat.

“Can I try something?”

Kinich snorts. “You’ll have to be more specific, because last time you said that, it didn’t end well.”

Sitting up, you scoff. “I mean with your hair. Just to see if we can get a bit of it out of your face.”

You pat at the space in front of you, urging him up—he moves begrudgingly, already comfortable in his spot. Clambering to your knees, you peek at him over the top of his head. 

“Which part gives you trouble? This long part?”

Kinich hums thoughtfully, thumbing at some of the strands framing his face.

“Yeah, I guess. Some of the longer strands behind my bangs get annoying because they won’t stay.”

You nod. “Okay, let me try this then. Just sit still.”

Kinich follows along, hands neatly gathered in his lap. It’s a bit puppy-like, and you smile at the notion.

You don’t speak as you plait his hair, gently easing each strand between your fingers. It’s a certain kind of calm that tends toward the unfamiliar. Kinich feels a bit conflicted over the heat that spreads through the rest of his form at the contact.

He’s still trying to get used to a lot of things about you, despite how long he’s spent at your side—even now, the gentleness and kindness with which you treat him leaves him speechless sometimes.

“Your hair is pretty,” you state softly, looping a tie over the end of the braid. “So unique.”

He thinks that you’re the first person to have told him as much. There had been times when he caught his mother staring at the blond streaks of his hair, frowning—they likely reminded her too much of his father. A part of him is glad that he at least inherited the majority of his genes from her. 

“Thanks,” is all he breathes, staring down at his hands.

Your fingers brush over his ear, and a blush crawls over his cheeks.

“You’re welcome,” you yawn, stretching, “I’ll try to figure out something else to keep your bangs out of your eyes.”

That night, listening to your soft snores, Kinich watches the moon just outside the window. 

His hair doesn’t bother him anymore, he realizes.

/

A resounding crash rouses you from sleep.

When your eyelids split open, body pulsing with shock, the sun hits you first. Harsh rays slip through the curtains, pools of gold falling between your bedsheets. You’re quick to throw the blankets off, sitting up quickly. 

In the opposite corner of the room, Kinich’s bed lies empty, cooling with the morning dew. But he shouldn’t be gone, at least not yet—with his arm out of commission, he’s been taking time off work.

Your heart drops.

In a panic, you cover the space from your bed to the door in a mere two steps, and then you’re throwing it open, chest heaving.

The sight that greets you leaves you frozen where you stand.

Kinich stands in the kitchen, equally as flabbergasted as you are, surrounded by a shower of crystalline shards. His good hand is still raised, evidence of his own shock.

“Sorry,” he utters, hasty. He looks more disturbed by the situation than you do. 

You take a cursory step toward him. “W—what happened?”

He looks at the floor, then back at you.

“I was trying to wash the dishes,” he explains, sheepish. You peer over at the sink, bursting with soapy water. It would’ve been hard to do with one arm.

He’s still standing among the slivers of ceramic, sharp edges too close for comfort. You suck in a breath.

���Just…don’t move, okay?”

You snatch the broom from the closet—when you glance over your shoulder, Kinich is standing obediently still, a statue in your kitchen. Carefully, you sweep the shards away from his feet, before neatly depositing them in the trash.

Kinich lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He’d wanted to wake up early and clean up a bit so you could relax, but even that had ended in disaster. 

He glares down at his arm.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It takes a bit of arguing to get him to take a seat away from the sink—Kinich finds something ugly curling around his heart at the idea. He’s heard enough arguing in this kitchen, and the memories aren’t friendly. So he takes a seat at the table despite his hesitation, unwilling to meet your stare as you check the floor for stray fragments.

You don’t seem to be angry about the broken dish—in fact, you seem to be angrier that he woke up early to do any of this at all. He doesn’t really get it. Though he’s becoming familiar with your habits, he finds that he sometimes falls short in terms of truly understanding you.

The cupboard falls shut—Kinich flinches at the sound, and then you’re padding over to him with a cup of water.

“Drink.”

The order barely leaves your tongue by the time you’re back at the sink, starting to clean at the rest of the dishes. You’d been upset moments ago, but you’re already back to being concerned about his hydration.

He stares at the drink, too long. If you notice his unrest, you don’t comment on it. 

A few minutes pass that way.

“Sorry that I broke my arm,” he finally mumbles, tracing the rim of his cup. A drop of condensation glides down the side, slow. He watches it pool on the table, seeping into the wood. 

“Why are you sorry?” you wonder aloud, scrubbing at a plate. “Did you hit the ground on purpose?”

He eyes your back. You’re so happy in everything you do, Kinich notes. Even something as simple as washing dishes, you do with your best effort—it’s admirable. You glance back at him when he doesn’t answer, and your gazes meet momentarily. He’s first to break the contact. 

“You’ve had to work way harder for weeks,” he replies, regret pouring from his words. “Because I fell from that stupid tree.”

A seed of fear plants itself in his heart. Despite your cheery disposition, he’s always wondered what you truly think of him. Typically, he’s satisfied with just being useful to you, being able to provide for the home that you share. But when he’s like this, he wonders if that standard will change.

Like this, he’s just a burden to you.

To his surprise, you merely shrug. “I had to work way harder than this when I was alone. And now, I get to work hard with someone by my side. I think that’s a better deal, isn’t it?”

Your words permeate the air, and Kinich sucks them in greedily—they fill his lungs, slow. He wonders if this house has ever seen such warmth before. Then, he wonders if you know the way your comment fills his heart, pulsing.

You crane your neck to look at him, another smile gracing your lips. Light pulls through the gauzy curtains over the kitchen window, a halo.

“Don’t you think that kind of relationship is priceless?”

At that moment, the blazing sun rises in Kinich’s chest.

[mouwrites]

Creepypasta/MH - Going To Sleep With Them

Characters: Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer, Nina the Killer, Clockwork, Jane the Killer, Brian/Hoody, Tim/Masky

Eyeless Jack

He goes to sleep pretty early; he’s in bed no later than 8 PM

But he gets up in the middle of the night for… feeding purposes

He tries to be discreet, keeping a close eye on your sleeping form as he slips out of the sheets and out the window

He won’t kiss you goodbye, he really doesn’t want to disturb you

But he’ll gaze longingly at you right before he drops from the windowsill to the ground

When he comes back, he makes sure to wash up thoroughly before getting back in bed

If you don’t wake up at the sound of the shower running, you will when he crawls in next to you

He smells nice and clean, completely void of the irony tinge of blood

If he’s upset he won’t touch you, he’ll just curl up on the far edge of the bed, trying to make himself small and unnoticeable

He’ll squirm away from your touch if you try to comfort him

He just needs to feel alone for a while

But if he’s not upset, he’ll curl around you

He clings to you like a koala, pressing his cheek against you

He’s not very warm, but his skin is soft from showering

Plus, as mentioned earlier, he smells nice :)

Once settled, he won’t move until morning

Jeff the Killer

He has no sleep schedule

When he’s tired he’ll conk out on the bed, barely bothering to change clothes

He’ll take off his hoodie and maybe his jeans, but that’s about it

If you happen to be in bed at the same time, he’ll cuddle up to you

You better hope that he’s showered recently, because he doesn’t see sleeping as an “occasion” to shower for

He likes to have your head on his chest with his arm around you

The pressure comforts him

Plus it allows him to sprawl out a little, which he likes a lot

He isn’t the type to curl up when he sleeps, he goes full starfish if space allows

He also moves in his sleep

You might wake up to him smacking or kicking you, or even shoving you to the edge of the bed

It’s unintentional, but if you mention it to him he thinks it’s hilarious

He will get upset if you actually try to sleep somewhere else, though

Even if you’re not touching, knowing that you’re near helps Jeff feel peaceful while he sleeps

Fortunately he’s not a blanket hog, so at least you have the blanket to yourself

He can sleep blanketless even in the dead of winter

He might crawl under the covers at first, but he manages to wiggle out of them by the time he wakes up

Nina the Killer

She goes to bed whenever you do

But if she’s really tired, she goes to bed by herself, telling you that she’ll be waiting whenever you’re ready to join her

She loves to cuddle

She doesn’t care what position, she loves them all

Her favorites are the ones where she gets to wrap her arms around you though

Kind of like Jeff, she does move a lot in her sleep

But instead of pushing you away, she tries to get closer

She still might end up hitting you, but it’s in an attempt to hold you

If you mention it to her she’ll laugh, but she actually feels pretty bad

She’ll sadly say she understands if you want to sleep somewhere else :(

She has so many pairs of cute PJs and old T-shirts to sleep in

She usually tries to get ready before bed, but if she’s not in the mood she’ll just conk out in her clothes

At least she’s not stinky like Jeff though, she actually wears deodorant and sometimes perfume

You might wake up with makeup smeared on you/the pillows

Clockwork

She generally tries to go to bed around a set time, but if she’s busy she’ll stay up

You can’t coax her to bed if she’s busy, but she’ll gladly come if she’s not

She’s pretty chill when it comes to cuddling

She will if you want to, but she’s fine if you don’t

Unless she's had a nightmare, then she does prefer to cuddle

Or if she's not in the mood, then she'll flat-out refuse

She likes to be the big spoon when you do cuddle

She's pretty warm, which is always nice in the colder months

She's eerily still when she sleeps

It's almost like she dies for a few hours

Unfortunately that means that if you need to get up and you're cuddling, you are trapped

You'll have to wake her up if you want out

She'll just grunt and turn to the other side of the bed, then proceed with her stone-still slumber

Which means you won't be cuddling anymore when you get back :(

She always changes her clothes before she goes to sleep

Even if it's just a T-shirt, she makes an effort to sleep in different clothes than the ones she wore during the day

Jane the Killer

You can tell she's getting ready to go to bed when you hear her showering

She's a night shower person, and she always showers before she goes to bed

She'll change into nice PJs and climb into bed, smelling clean and feeling soft

Unless she has... plans... for the evening, she sticks to a specific bedtime

She likes to have you in bed with her, but she won't force you to adhere to her schedule

She isn't a huge fan of cuddling, she prefers to just know you're there

She might reach out and rest her hand on you during the night, just to reassure herself

She won't object if you decide to hold her hand

If she's out for the evening, she looks forward to coming home to you

She doesn't like to sleep during the day, so she'll just take however much time is left in the night to sleep in bed with you :)

Her favorite thing ever is to climb under the covers and see/hear you sleepily acknowledge her before drifting back off

It makes her feel seen and loved

Also, she always kisses your hand before she goes to sleep

No matter how tired or upset she is, she never forgets

Brian/Hoody

He doesn't go to bed until very late at night

You're usually in bed before he is

But that's the way he likes it; he loves knowing that you're waiting for him whenever he's ready to sleep

He'll slip under the covers silently, wrapping himself around you and allowing your bodies to melt against each other

If you wake up while he does this, he'll apologize and kiss your cheek before telling you to go back to sleep

He usually changes into different clothes to sleep, but sometimes he forgets

You can always tell when he forgets; his clothes reek vaguely of earth and sweat

He doesn't move a whole lot in his sleep, but when he does move he'll try to keep physical contact with you

Sometimes he'll literally heave you over him so that you're on his other side and he can keep cuddling you

He's a pretty lonely guy, and he sees sleep as his solace

Having you to hold makes him feel like he's not really alone

If he wakes up in the middle of the night and you're gone, he'll get up and find you

Once he finds you he just waits, rubbing his eyes and yawning until you go back to bed

Tim/Masky

He does not sleep often

Or well

Sleeping next to him is both nice and a nuisance

For one, he tosses and turns constantly, and when he finally drifts off, he usually wakes with a start not even two hours later

He gets nightmares almost every night, which makes him anxious to fall asleep

You'll probably end up getting only a little more sleep than him

On the other hand, he does like to hold you

It calms his nerves when you're in his arms, so he'll hold you against him while he tries to get some rest

Sometimes he doesn't even try to sleep, he just stares into the darkness with you in his arms

He presses a kiss on the top of your head when his anxieties start to get to be too much

It's honestly more refreshing than sleep for him

But if he falls asleep while holding you, be prepared to be jumpscared when he suddenly sits up with a gasp

He'll apologize, but it won't sound all that sincere

He's more occupied trying to calm himself down

He doesn't bother to shower at night because he wakes up in a cold sweat too frequently, so he prefers to shower in the morning

He tries to change clothes before bed so that he doesn't smell too bad though

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) take care my sweethearts <33

[ameliathornromance]

Once a year, the Clan held a fun rough-housing tournament. It’s nothing serious, just something fun for all the Orcs to do during the Summer. Injuries were normal, but it was always done in good faith and there was never any bad blood by the end of it.

And for some reason, completely beyond your Orc Boyfriends mind, you decided that you wanted to join in for this year.

“No.” He had said, the moment you expressed interest in the tournament. “You’ll be turned into a blueberry pancake.”

“No I won’t.” You had replied. You gave a few playful jabs at his toned stomach. He barely felt them, “see? I can land a few good hits. There are humans who fight Orcs all the time.”

Your Orcs’ arms crossed his chest, scowling down at you. “I’m serious Love. Those humans you speak of are trained for years to hunt down Orcs.” He scoffed, “they use dirty tricks and have no honour.”

You sighed, frowning. “It looks like fun.”

“Your idea of fun is strange.”

“Says the Orc who participates in a yearly fighting contest.”

Your Orc held this information from you, but in his opinion, if you were given the proper training, you could easily body several of his others without breaking a sweat. You have the determination to do it, it’s just the physical strength you would have to make up for.

But the thought of you getting hurt in the process – which you would, Orcs do not hold back, even when rough-housing – made his stomach churn with anxiety.

A few days go by, there’s nothing particularly abnormal about them. The only exception being that, you came to bed, later and later.

Your Orc would always hear the sound of the tent flaps opening and closing, the pressure of your weight on the side of the bed. He didn’t know what you were up to, and when he questioned you about it after the third night, you brushed it off: “Ah, some of the cooks needed help with prep for next weeks meals. Y’know, with the tournament coming up and all that.”

Soon, the night before the start of the tournament came and he was alone. He was waiting for you to come to bed. He always fell asleep faster when you were with him and given what was going to happen the next day, he needed to be at his best.

A couple of minutes past from your usual arrival time, causing your boyfriend to sit up and watch the tent flaps. And then, as he yawned, the tent flaps opened and in you walked.

All tiredness vanished from your Orc in an instant. Your face was bruised, your nose a river of blood. You panted hard as you locked eyes with your Orc Boyfriend.

He froze, unable to believe what he was seeing.

You raised a hand as he shot up, “what happened?” He asked, immediately. Rage began to burn bright and hot in his chest.

“Baby I know what this looks like-”

“Who did this to you?” He cut you off. He took your head in his hand and turned your head side to side, examining the injuries in the low candle light, “why didn’t you shout for me? Did you leave the camp? You know you shouldn’t at this time of-”

“No!” You snapped. Your outburst caused your Orc to retract his hands away from you. “There’s a perfectly good explanation for this.”

His scowl didn’t move. You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I know you said that I shouldn’t be training for the tournament… But I asked Grok to show me how to fight.”

“Grok!?” Your Orc snapped. “Grok the Bonebreaker?!”

Grok the ‘Bonebreaker’ as humans called him, known for leaving human hunting parties with their bones shattered, but alive enough to be heard screaming for help. Grok was the strongest of all the Orcs in the camp.

He knew his own strength, why would he beat you so badly for training?

“He’s been running me through fighting drills for the past few nights… Tonight he told me to come at him with every thing I had.”

Your Orc Boyfriend had heard enough. He went to move past you, to find Grok and beat the hell out of him. You were just a human being and a woman on top of that, how could he have been so harsh on you?!

“Baby, stop!” You threw your hands out in front of him, “let me finish!”

Your Orc stopped, “no, someone has to teach him a lesson for being so dishonourable-”

“There’s a small problem with that…” You spoke, quickly.

The Orc stopped, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

He stared at you, waiting for his answer. What he didn’t expect, was a large grin to spread over your face, eyes glinting with triumph. “Grok is already in the medical tent being seen by the old man because I beat the shit out of him.”

Your Orc’s jaw dropped. He stared at you. "What... How..."

You weren’t strong or tall by any means, you didn't even really have any muscle. Your Orc wanted to be angry, be upset with Grok that he hadn’t held back with you… But all that was overcome by sheer pride.

Your Orc Boyfriend stumbled back, clutching onto his head as if a headache had attacked him. A small chuckle arose in his throat, that then turned into a burst of laughter.

He swept you up in his arms. You gave a yelp of surprise, throwing your arms around your boyfriends neck.

“I can’t-” He pressed his forehead against yours, his laughter dying down, “I can’t believe that I thought you wouldn’t be able to fend for yourself in a fight! Yet here you are, alive and breathing after taking on Grok the Bonebreaker!”

Squeezing you in his arms, he lowered his voice, “this,” he says, “this is why I chose you as my partner, my love.” As he planted a kiss on your cheek, he set you down on your shared bed and sighed.

He took your hands in his, looking down at them settled in your lap. "I'm sorry I didn't think you would..."

"Baby, it's fine." You smiled, making him look up at you. "I understand what you mean now and I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I was doing," wincing, you grazed your nose with your finger. "I think I'll stick to just watching the tournaments from now on."

Relief washed over your Orc, earning another chuckle from him. He sighed, contentedly. “I’m going to kill that Bonebreaker bastard tomorrow.”

He’ll be bragging about this ‘til the end of time – his girlfriend, the human woman, was able to land Grok the Bonebreaker in the medical tent.

Patreon

[motimatcha]

lust

hazbin hotel Adam x fem!reader smut: vaginal sex; unprotected sex; cum inside (creampie)

Adam is breathing heavily and both his and your chests are barely heaving. But Adam smiles, and you smile too; the hand that was squeezing your thigh a moment ago moves to Adam's gray hair to push the long strands back from his bangs — individual hairs still stuck to his sweaty forehead, but did not spoil the overall picture.

As his hand returned to its original, almost rightful place, the rhythmic thrusts were restored. Your eyes roll back on their own accord and your head falls back onto the soft pillows; With your hand you grab Adam’s hand so as not to simply move out of your place. You can feel how his muscles tense from your actions and your appearance, which excites him and makes him move his hips harder, changing your usual leisurely pace.

Adam grabs you with his other hand under your thigh, practically changing the angle of entry of his dick into your womb, causing the head of his dick to press on your pleasure point each time, and the shaft rubs against your clitoris, swollen with arousal. Your other hand lands on his toned stomach, either in a weak attempt to slow his movements, or to feel the movement of the muscle under your fingers. But all you can feel is the pleasure of friction both inside and out, and Adam's hot skin. His barely audible chuckle touches your ears as he leans over your body and kisses the valley between your breasts.

The movements become jerky, chaotic, even sweeping as Adam gets close to cumming. He never bothered to pull out of you to cum, and you never denied yourself the pleasure of feeling his cum inside you. There was something special about this that you both preferred not to talk about out loud, exchanging only lustful glances.

Adam flaps his wings several times as he comes, causing light objects on the nightstands and chest of drawers to fly to the floor. Your fingers, nails, scratch his stomach and arm, leaving wounds on his skin. Later they will definitely make themselves felt with itchy pain, but for now Adam only watches with admiration as golden droplets of blood appear on the wounds that appear and as his sperm flows out of your vagina, leaving a ring on his dick.

He removes his hand from your grip to lace your fingers together before settling down on his side next to you. Your eyes are closed and a blush appears on your cheeks; you try to catch your breath and after about a minute, when your breathing comes to relative calm, you open your eyes to turn your head towards Adam and meet his languid golden eyes. The kiss happens by itself: you just put your other hand on his cheek, Adam just gently almost purrs, and you just touch your lips to each other — the kiss is soft and tender, with an intimate and vulgar smack and a viscous string of saliva.

Adam pulls your hand so you can collapse onto his body and ride his cock. With one hand, the man touches your thigh, helping you to align yourself with the head of his erect dick, after which he moves higher, to your waist, to partially guide the process. Moans escape your swollen lips as you begin to move, and Adam feels like he’s ready to cum again right now, just from the sight of you riding his cock, but the desire to prolong the pleasure was as great as the sexual one. Adam tries to hold out for a long time, but you can tell just by one nervous squeeze of your waist with his fingers that this “long” will soon end and a new portion of his sperm will paint the walls of your womb white.

In pursuit of your own high, your free hand touches the clitoris, creating additional pressure and friction; Adam decides to leave it to you and begins to move his hips to meet you, practically driving his dick into your body. He rises sharply and, wrapping his arms around your body, sets an insanely fast pace that sends a hot tingling sensation through your body. Your wings shake nervously and point upward as you reach your climax and then collapse into your man's arms as he cums deep inside you.

Barely half a minute passes before you both fall back, Adam's back on the sweat-soaked mattress, you pressed against Adam's chest and stomach. His dick, which was still inside, gives you a pleasant feeling of fullness and oneness with him, and therefore you decide to lie in this position for now. You can clean up in five minutes tomorrow.

[lace-coffin]

Heyo friendo, can I perhaps request headcannons for Bubba, Tommy, Asa, and RZ Mikey when giving and receiving comfort from their s/o? Bonus points if male or ftm reader cause we don’t have enough ;-;

Thank you 🩵🩵

How would slashers comfort their S/O on a bad day?

Absolutely, MWAH

Reader is ftm 💖

Trigger warning mainly for Asa- power dynamics/exchange (probably) toxic relationships, the usual for him lol

Also tw for raw meat/hacking at meat/blood

Requests are open!

Bubba Sawyer

Giving

Bubba notices you haven’t been yourself today. Usually he’s the first one up at the crack of dawn, busy tending to the small farm you’ve accrued over time on the sawyer family property. He returns back once the errands are done to find you still in bed, which is unusual for you by this time.

Bubba runs their hands over your cheek softly, murmuring to you quietly, prompting you to get out of bed, only to be met with a groan and the duvet being pulled back over your head. After several minutes of looking around nervously and playing with her fingers anxiously deciding what to do she hauls you over her shoulder.

They are absolutely about to traipse you into the dining room in your boxers and sleep vest in your full glory. He places you down gently on your chair and goes to fetch your food.

Drayton eyes you wearily, wondering why bubba just dumped their boyfriend at the dinner table clad in only boxers. Choptop and nubbins however find it hilarious and snicker until Drayton hollers for them to shut up.

If you’re not feeling up to eating then bubba will encourage you by feeding you smaller bites with the fork. Of course this isn’t without chop and nubbins making gagging noises at the display of public affection. Bubba groans in embarrassment but it’s enough to make you laugh and cheer up a little.

She’ll help you do your daily tasks if your finding it difficult, for example they’ll wash you gently and make sure to give you a nice scalp massage whilst washing your hair if your struggling with hygiene.

They’ll try involve you in activities to take your mind off how your feeling, making bone crafts with her and her siblings and even cuddling their favourite pet chicken.

Receiving

If bubba is having a bad day you’ll definitely know about it. They tend to wear their heart on their sleeve and are open with their emotions.

He’ll come to you as his boyfriend first. If she’s really upset and actively crying please hold them and give them a while to calm down before trying to ask what’s up.

Stimming! Please stim with them, it helps them feel better to shake it out by flapping their hands and making fists. They feel more comfortable and accepted if you join in. Mirroring and doing the same activities is one of their love languages.

Staying with them whilst they do their daily tasks is helpful, feed the chickens with them and the pigs. Maybe have a little cuddle session with the piggies.

If she feels particularly insecure that day then you can help do her makeup and dress up with her. Once he’s donned his favourite yellow dress and you your fanciest suit/button up you can have a little tea party or picnic now you’re both feeling cute.

Choptop and nubbins will complain that it’s lame but still insist in coming (they think it’s fun but are to stubborn to admit it)

Thomas Hewitt

Giving

Tommy spends most of his time either in the basement or out chasing victims so he may not be the best at noticing your upset since he’s absent frequently until the end of the day.

Luda may is confused but slightly honoured when Tommy’s boyfriend came to her teary eyed looking for comfort and advice, not wanting to bother Tommy whilst he’s working.

Luda will slip off later and give Tommy a heads up that you need looking after today. As soon as he finds out he cuts his work short, slamming his cleaver into the table and washing the excess blood from his hands before making his way up to you.

Tommy will try help by giving you deep pressure. Laying his weight on your chest to ground you. He traces his fingers over your palm in little shapes and letters, spelling out words of affirmation and hearts to let you know he loves you in a way he can’t verbalise. However if you’re lucky he may whisper a few raspy words of adoration into your chest as you pet his hair.

If it helps you blow off steam he might let you hack at some of the meat in basement with his cleaver, however only under his watchful eye. Your already upset, he doesn’t need you loosing a finger to.

Tommy will make an extra effort to keep you distracted and away from Hoyt since he can be..snappy to say the least. This can mean your spending time with Tommy on the swing out front or reading to him.

Receiving

Tommy is difficult when it comes to emotions. Years of hiding behind a steely facade as he’s taunted by mean kids or even Hoyt has left him closed off and unsure about being vulnerable.

When Tommy is having a bad day it’s more likely to come out as anger, he finds this easier to channel and disperse since he spends a lot of his time running on agression towards victims and knows how to handle it better than sadness.

The first sign things aren’t right is when he’s not back from his basement work for hours after he usually finishes up. Please go drag him out of there or he’ll work until he exhausts himself.

Having a tender hand and giving him room to vulnerable is the best thing you can do for Tommy.

Let him sign to you what the problem is when he’s ready and try help best you can.

He loves it when you let him snuggle into your chest on your shared bed, your fingers threading through his hair, lovingly detangling any knots or snags in his hair. His mask discarded on the bedside table so he can be skin to skin with you.

Spending time with you and Luda may will be therapeutic for him, he may be grown now but he still loves spending quality time with his mama, and with his boyfriend there it’s even more enjoyable. Play a board game together or cards. (Luda will let Tommy win a few rounds because he’s still her baby, but don’t let him know that :’)

RZ! Michale Myers

Giving

Michael will probably know when your having a tough day before you even do considering he spends most of his time silently observing you, he knows your emotions and habits like the back of his (giant ass) hand.

Mikey makes a point of trying to show his concern via acts of service since verbal and physical emotional aren’t his strong suits. This might mean the covers are pulled back from your bed and your handed a slightly burnt grilled cheese for breakfast. It’s not amazing but he tried lol.

Michael knows you struggle with taking care of yourself on these days and encourages you the best way he knows how. Guiding you to the room you need to be in and standing and staring until you do the task, you can try move past him but he’s like a brick wall in coveralls.

He knows when it’s time for you to take off your binder and let yourself relax. Either he tries his tried and true method of stubbornly staring and insisting you do it or he’ll unceremoniously man handle it off you and throw it aside. He’s not complaining about the view either.

Receiving

Michael tends to stay out for longer if he’s not feeling good. The need to shed blood hitting a peak, eating away at his insides and clouding his mind until he can satisfy it. He’ll return home more dirtied up than usual, caked in slowly drying blood and maybe even dirt if he gets into a scuffle with a hardheaded victim.

Mikey dumps his knife in the sink and shrugs off his dirty coveralls in the laundry room, throwing on some comfy gray sweats and a loose white T-shirt. Adorning his favourite paper pumpkin mask.

He’ll seek you out even if he’s still covered in splats of darkening blood and flop onto you with his full weight, demanding your attention. He’s clingier than usual, this gives you leeway to pamper him.

After a round of cuddles try get Michael into the bathroom to clean him up, despite his preference towards gore he doesn’t actually like feeling grimy, not being able to cope with the sensory issues it brings.

He would feel very cared for if you clean his wounds before getting him in the bath. Run your fingers over his scars and marks from past victims, tenderly kiss his top surgery scars.Mikey will melt under your hands if you detangled and wash his hair for him, especially if you tie it into a bun or ponytail for him to keep it off his neck and face, preventing the sensory issues mentioned earlier.

Asa Emory

Giving

Asa knows some days can be more taxing than others, especially in the situation you two share. Anyones mental health would be fragile considering your literally being kept as a pet to a serial killer. He can see during training that you blindly follow along with instructions with a glassy far away look in your eyes. This won’t do, he needs your full attention. He hates to admit it but your his little bug and he hates to see you hurting when he’s not the one responsible for it.

On days when you feel particularly hopeless about your situation or self he’ll be softer on you. Do not misunderstand, he will still demand your cooperation and obedience/submission but the consequences will be lessened or saved for later when you have the energy and attention to react accordingly.

Asa will bring you with him about his day. Sitting you under his desk with the chain from your collar wrapped around the desk leg. Running his hands through your hair and patting your head as he works. After a while you let your eyes flutter shut as you rest your head on his thigh, drifting off to the sound of his pen scratching along paper.

If you’re lacking in energy or unwilling to eat you will be promoted to his lap instead of your usual spot on the floor at your metal bowl. Asa will hand feed you, insuring you get enough nutrients and prying your mouth open with his nitrile gloves to ensure you’ve swallowed it all.

Asa will take you to his bed instead of your trunk or cage/room.

Receiving

After a long week of experiments succumbing to their wounds and dying on him and finicky traps failing, Asa is more than in a shitty mood. After snapping off his gloves and cleaning himself of any lingering viscera he makes his way over to your room.

His eyes crinkle highlighting his crows feet as he unclasps the trunk your contorted into, happier than ever to see his cricket after the day he’s had.

You know he’s had a bad day as it’s much later than his usual visit and he’s lacking the domineering energy he always exudes, to tired and trodden down to be strict.

Asa finds it therapeutic to do your makeup and dress you up (much like the implications with Abby in the collection)

You’ve learned in your years here it’s wise to be on your best behaviour when he gets this way. Being submissive and compliant is a great relief to him when he feels bad as he doesn’t have the energy to argue with you and will just storm out.

Using more honourifics like “sir” or “master” will get you brownie points and help boost his ego. Use “daddy” if your willing to finish what you started 👀

Curling up on him is ensured to pull at his heart strings and help calm him down. Tell him what a wonderful owner he is and how well he takes care of you. Feed into his god complex and worship him. let him know you’re only committed to him and him alone, you don’t need the outside or anyone else, just his attention. Assert his full control over your being and heart.

Not double checked bc eyes feel like they’re bleeding lmao

[jasmines-library]

The ‘Do Not Call’ List.

WHUMPTOBER DAY 15. Prompt: barley conscious.

Fandom: DC/batfam

Summary: After finally escaping your life one night without saying goodbye to your family, you find yourself in jeopardy, which leads to a well anticipated call.

Warnings: Blood, stab wound, near death.

Word count: 2.1k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

You were bleeding. Heavily.

The weapon was still lodged within your chest. 6 inches deep it sat, dislodging your ribs which you were sure were shattered, and tickling away at your lung. You hadn’t seen it coming, hidden behind the back of the man you had been tracking. It was too late by the time you had realised he had it; he got you good before sprinting away.

You had tried to get out of this life, leaving those you loved behind. You couldn’t deal with constantly living a lie. So you left. Packed your bags one night, upped and left. They had tried relentlessly to get ahold of you; Missed calls, unanswered texts and even trying to track you on the street cameras, but you knew how to cover your tracks. Being trained as a vigilante does that to a person. You changed your hair and your name, changed your clothes and your hobbies until even you began to not recognise yourself. It hurt to heave your family that way, but you thought it was the only solution. You had seen the texts flooding in. At first, they were concerned, then they turned to anger and morphed into pain and fear once again.

As you staggered backwards, gripping onto your chest, you knew that you shouldn’t have followed him. You knew that you shouldn’t have, that you should have just turned and ran the other way like any normal person should have, but you couldn’t. You missed them. You missed Tim’s meek smile and Damian’s sarcastic remarks, Jason’s wit and Dick’s comfort. You missed collapsing in the study after a long patrol to curl up and watch a movie. Doing this would have brought you one painstaking step closer to them again. So, it was one more criminal.

The blood pooled around you as you cried out, sinking to the floor; a dark river of scarlet oozing from between your fingers. Coughing harshly you tried to apply as much pressure to the wound as your weakening body would let you. The fit only jostled the wound more, eliciting a cry of pain which caused you to fist your shirt.

That was when you suddenly remembered the phone in your jean pocket. You knew that you should call for help, but when you agonisingly slipped it out of your pocket, the number your bloodstained fingers dialled wasn’t the typical number someone would call if they had a fatal stab wound.

~

Tim froze when he saw the name flash on the screen; a name that he knew at one glance. Your name. He hadn’t stopped searching for you since you left them high and dry, albeit there was no sign of you. You had vanished without a trace. His late nights turned even later as he scoured the internet and hacked into the cameras trying desperately to catch a glimpse of your face. He was often accompanied by Jason, who spent his time calling your number or leaving you strands of unopened texts. He hadn’t taken it so well. His nights were full of relentless torment in the form of unsaid thoughts of you. So, when he strolled in groggily to take his usual seat beside his brother but saw your name on the screen, his glass shattered on the floor.

“Is this real?” He asked, ignoring the glass and crossing the room in two strides to reach the computer. Some part of him believed that this was some sick joke, but then the ringing stopped. And started up again moments later.

“Answer it.” Jason told him, fumbling with the hem of his shirt.

When Tim pressed the answer button, they were hit with the sound of ragged breathing.

“Y/N?” He furrowed his brow, unable to hide the worry laid thick in his voice. A million thoughts raced through your mind at once.

There was silence on the other end of the line, before your voice pierced through the emptiness. “Jason?”

“Y/N? Where are you? What’s going on?”

“I…”

You were cut off by a coughing fit which caused blood to spill from the corner of your mouth. Both of the boy’s eyes widened at your wine of pain.

“I… I’m sorry.”

“What?” Jason was frantic now, moving around the cave to gather his weapons. “What’s going on?”

Your breath shook as you struggled against the pain. “I didn’t see it in time…”

“See what?”

“I’m sorry I left.” You dismissed his question to continue your ramble. You had to get the words out. You had to tell them. “I had to get out…I had to-”

Tim repeated his brother’s question, but once again it didn’t register in your mind.

“I didn’t want to leave. But it was the only way and I miss you. I miss you all and I need you to know that I love you all so, so much-”

“Y/N!” Jason cut off your rambling and you went quiet on the other end of the line. “What didn’t you see?”

“The knife.”

Jason’s blood ran cold. Suddenly your state made sense. The ragged breathing and the cries of discomfort. “Tim. get a tracking signal.”

“On it.” His fingers were already trailing the keys, working away to find your location.”

“Where are you?” Jason was tugging on his mask.

There was no reply. Just pained wheezing. Then the line went dead.

~

During your time as a vigilante, you had often thought long and hard about how you would die. And you supposed this wasn’t far from it. You had always imagined you would go down in a fight. Shot down in action while saving the city, or whilst sacrificing yourself to save one of the boys. In a way, this wasn’t too dissimilar. You did go down trying for the greater good. Trying. But you hadn’t imagined that you would be alone. You supposed it was better for everyone this way. The one thing you definitely hadn’t accounted for was the cold. It dug down deep into your bones, stabbing away like a thousand tiny needles. It made an odd contrast to the burning of your chest. Though slowly, you started to feel nothing at all as you began to drift into a numb haze.

Gazing up at the sky, spots danced between your vision, blending in with the stars that twinkled above you. Smiling, you watched them dance around until one feeling began to blend into the other, until there was no feeling left but the darkness of the sky above you.

At first, you didn’t realise that there was a face besides you, until you were brought back to reality by the stabbing pain radiating through your gut. You screamed, writhing as the knife was eased from your chest. For some reason, he wasn’t wearing his mask, but from the way that his hair was jostled, you could tell that it had not long been torn from his face. You could see the outline of his face in the light.

“Jay.” You whispered.

You could see his lips moving, but you couldn’t understand what he was saying. He looked panicked, speaking to someone that you weren’t able to see. You squirmed, trying to see who was near you, only to be held down by Jason.

Pressure to the gaping wound made you cry out. Then Jason’s lips were moving faster, and everything seemed to hit you all at once. Jason was calling your name, tapping your face gently. You could hear the murmur of Tim who talked to himself as he worked.

Your head rolled on a loose neck as Jason tilted it towards him.

“Stay with me, y/n. Please.”

Everything hurt, and your mind throbbed with your fast heart rate. It was hard to focus on anything with your doubling vision making everything swim around you.

You whined as you were shifted on to your side so that the younger of the two could begin to secure the bandages around you. You tried to focus on Jay, who had rested your head in his lap and was combing your hair through his hands, but you couldn’t. It was just too hard.

Your body began to slow down. Your eyes dropped and head lolled in his lap.

“No. No no no.” Jason was pinching you now trying to get a reaction from you, but your eyes only fluttered as you struggled to keep a grip on consciousness. “You have to stay awake.” He pleaded.

“Hurts…” you forced out, face contorting in pain as Tim continued to work and apply pressure to the laceration.

“We know. We know we’re sorry.”

“I’m nearly done. You’re doing so well.”

It felt like you were trapped in a never ending, agony filled cycle by the time that Tim finally finished bandaging you up and rolled you back into your side.

By this point, your eyes were spotting and your mind was swimming. You couldn’t even comprehend the pain. Your eyes fluttered, barely open a crack as you felt your mind wander, soon the faces around you blurred into the rest of the world and for one moment it was just you, consumed by the pain. And it wasn’t long after that until there was nothing. Just darkness.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 14 ⛤ DAY 16 ->

Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

the best crabs the bay area has to offer!

pairing: ex-husband leon x reader

cw: asshole leon, oral sex, mention of STIs, mention of degradation, leon's literally so gross and awful

summary: you and leon take the kids on vacation. leon fucks around per usual and you both find out why maryland is famous for crabs

a/n: sorry

wc: 3.8k

You and Leon got divorced years ago, citing ‘irreconcilable differences’ which meant his alcohol intake and workaholic tendencies got in the way of having a functioning marriage, but he begged you for joint custody. If the courts knew the truth, they’d give you full custody. In hindsight, you were angry with yourself for letting him guilt you into that arrangement—one week at yours, the next at his. You both lived in the same school district, so it wasn’t a problem in that regard. 

You’d just picked up the kids from Leon’s when they began to dish out gossip by their own volition. The little loud mouths got their loose lips from their father. 

Leon had a new “girlfriend” if you could call a woman under 25 the girlfriend of a man in his 40s. 

Your son, the older of your two children, was going on and on about some “Tara”.

“Who’s Tara?” You asked.

“Dad’s girlfriend,” he said 

“Not babysitter ‘Tara’?” 

Better not be, you thought.

“She used to be our babysitter,” he said, making you want to bang your head against the steering wheel.

Seriously, Leon? 

“She’s a whore,” your daughter said. You almost crashed the car.

“Excuse me? Where did you hear that?”

“Dad.” You should’ve known.

“Don’t say that word again, it’s not a nice thing to say about someone.”

“Then why did dad say it to Tara?”

“When did he say it to Tara?”

“I heard him in his bedroom and he said it.”

Jesus Christ, you thought, I guess that’s better than him verbally abusing a woman, especially in front of his kids.

“Okay, I’ll have a talk with him about his language.”

And you did. You texted him later that night.

You: Keep it down in the bedroom.

Leon:?

You: Your daughter just told me you called your girlfriend a ‘whore’. Very classy, Leon.

Leon: mad that I have a sex life?

You: Quit acting like a teenager. I could not care less about your sex life so long as you keep it away from my daughter.

Leon: u mean our daughter?

You: For now. You better learn to grow up if you want to keep it that way.

Leon: is that a threat? or is it menopause talking?”

You: Act your age not your girlfriend’s age.

Leon sent an eye-rolling emoji and that was the end of your chat.

You ended up sipping a margarita next to Leon at a tacky beach bar. He was still so damn persuasive even post-divorce. 

“How’s Tara?” you asked after the alcohol had given you a bit of a buzz. 

“I wouldn’t know,” he said, nonchalantly.

“Left you for a man her own age?”

“Funny. I broke it off, actually.”

“Why? Was she getting too old? Got her first period and you couldn’t handle it?”

“Ha ha. She wanted to get serious, and I don’t need that kind of stress in my life right now. My blood pressure is high enough.”

“You’re just hooking up with women shamelessly? With your kids around?”

“I’m not just ‘hooking up’. At least, not when I have the kids.”

“Mommy!” your daughter called. 

“Hold this,” you said, handing your drink to Leon, “I trust you won’t spike it.”

“Won’t need to, sweetheart,” he said with a wink. 

You covered your hand from your kids to flip him off as you walked out onto the sand to look at the shells your daughter had found you. 

Leon took a good look at your ass in your swimsuit. 

“Damn, mama’s still got it,” he said to himself. 

A younger, blonder woman came over to talk to him. The prey stalked the predator, how unusual. 

“Sitting all alone?” she said in that voice. 

“At the moment,” he said, “My ex wife’s out there.” he pointed to you playing with the kids. 

“Ex?”

“Correct.”

“Are those your kids?”

“Uh-huh. The only good things she gave me.”

Though she was pretty good at giving head too, he thought. He began to miss it. 

When you walked back to your seat, Leon handed you your drink, and said, “Don’t worry, babe. I kept it safe for you.”

“Don’t ‘babe’, me,” you say sitting down.

“Why not? I thought you liked that.”

“When we were married. But, I don’t want my ex-husband calling me pet names.”

“‘Kay, babe.” You looked over to tell him off and he winked at you.

“I hate you,” you said. 

“No you don’t,” Leon said, walking off to God knows where.

You spied Leon snaking his arm around a pretty girl’s waist at the bar. The bartender ID’d her, though Leon got out his credit card, so you knew he was paying. He flashed his platinum American Express like Patrick Bateman and a part of you thought about how gross and pathetic he was for hitting on college-aged chicks as a middle-aged man, but the other part of you remembered that you didn’t get ID’d at the bar, and you began to search up plastic surgeons in your area.

He brought new Tara, who was actually named Kelly, over to your shared seating area. This new girl and the last were ostensibly the same – too young for him, great body, bimbo-ish.

You couldn’t hate her. She was sweet girl. Lacking in brain cells, but sweet. Leon left the two of you alone for a moment. He seemed torn between saying something euphemistic and polite to her and something more vulgar to you.

He settled on, “Uh, I’ve gotta go see a man about a horse.”

Kelly seemed to think it was funny, but it might just be the way he smiled when he walked away. You weren’t drunk enough to think he looked like anything other than a complete dumbass.

“Is he always this cute?”

“No, he’s on his best behavior right now.” Because you told him to be (and yet his best behavior was still a bit sleazy).

You figured Leon might be up to some other shenanigans because you didn’t see him for quite some time. Your kids came and went, showing you the things they found on the beach. They seemed to be unphased by this random woman you were sitting with – granted, she was good with kids. Maybe she’s a babysitter, too, you thought. It made you wonder how many girls Leon was bringing home while your kids were with him.

“You’re such a great mom,” Kelly told you. 

“Thank you. That’s really nice of you to say.” You were genuinely flattered. It was hard being the strict parent, a role you were forced to take on when you decided to procreate with Leon S. Kennedy.

“I hope one day I’ll be as good as you are.” You wanted to tell her that she could be, but not with Leon as a father. Not because you were possessive, but because Leon was a dickhead. You were pretty sure you caught him grabbing another woman’s ass while he was away on his errands, which turned out to include playing Keno. You were pleased to know he was being responsible with his salary.

“Hey, ladies,” Leon walked up from behind and stood between your chairs, “how’s it goin’?”

“Better before you got here,” you said. 

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he said, all pouty. He walked around to Kelly and whispered—loudly enough for you to hear - “hey, sexy,” and he kissed her on the cheek. She giggled, girlish. Ew. 

Leon spent a couple of days hanging out with new girl- no wonder he needed you to come on vacation with him and the kids. It was almost like having three kids, except Leon was shamelessly fucking the oldest of the three. Not in the condo you rented, of course. It didn’t matter that he was the breadwinner, he knew that you would’ve made a fuss about it in front of the kids. You probably would’ve called him a whore. Rightfully so. He was a whore.

You tried to forget about his antics and focus on the fact that your kids were happy. You spent your days walking along the boardwalk, playing skeeball at the arcade, sitting in a damp swimsuit at a local pizza chain, wiping ice cream off your kids mouths and washing sand off their feet. While Leon did whatever he pleased, as usual. This included getting a t-shirt that said “99 problems but a beach ain’t one” as well as a henna tattoo that matched Kelly’s.

The number one perk of your vacation was that it reminded you why you and Leon got divorced in the first place- Leon, his pathetic, dickish behavior. It made you forget all those nights you spent missing him. Your vibrator could never do what Leon could.

The only problem was: your vacation was scheduled for two weeks, but you only had one at that condo, the second was spent at another. You should’ve known by now that you needed to book your beach rentals earlier in the season, or else you’d have to scavenge for a place with even one week available.

The first place had three rooms, so you and Leon could sleep in separate beds. The second only had two, which meant you were stuck with a roommate for the remainder of your vacation. You had secretly hoped that he would spend more time with Kelly, maybe even cozy up to some of her sorority sisters and get himself a bed at their place. But alas, Kelly’s spring break was only one week, so she had to return to school before your vacation was up.

You didn’t doubt Leon’s ability to find another girl, especially when this beach town was swimming with doppelgangers. For whatever reason, he stopped flirting with other women. You expected him to be slutting himself out to every waitress at Seacrets, aka the bay’s tackiest bar. Maybe he really liked this girl, you thought. That would be laughable.

On your first night in the new place, you put your kids to bed and retired to your room with Leon.

“Think you can handle sleeping in the same bed with me for a week?” he said.

“I did it for years. I think I can do a week.”

“But that was when we used to make sweet, passionate love and fall asleep in each other’s arms,” he said dramatically. 

“Yeah, well, too bad you and Tara are over because I bet she’d give you that.”

“Mm,” he hummed on his way to the bathroom, “could never do it like you, though.”

You must’ve misheard him, right?

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” he poked his head out of the bathroom door to meet your eyes and his expression, while mischievous, gave way to something genuine. 

You laughed it off, but had to hide the fact that he had you flustered. 

After a moment, you approached the bathroom door, which was cracked.

“Can I get in and brush my teeth?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said with a mouthful of toothpaste.

You opened the door and shared the sink with him. Even in the white light over the bathroom mirror with toothpaste on his lips, Leon looked sexy as ever. That was the one thing that never changed about him. You met his eyes in the mirror and he winked at you. Goddammit. 

When he finished brushing, he slid past you to walk back into the bedroom, placing his hand on the small of your back. It was the smallest gesture. It could even be polite, he was just squeezing past you. It was normal. But it wasn’t. It was Leon, and he could read you like a book. He was playing the same game he always had and he was winning. 

When you walked back into the room, he openly ogled you from the bed. 

“Shirtless? Really?” you asked him, a facade of displeasure across your face. 

“It’s hot as hell.” He shrugged. “Especially with you in here,” he said much lower. 

“God, you’re so cheesy,” you said, while looking through your suitcase for pj’s. 

“You love it, though.”

“I do not.”

“Do too.”

You did, in fact, love it. Leon only had two modi operandi: he was either cheesy as hell or a total douchebag. When you put those two together, most would see it as charming. He was the kind of guy you’d want to take home, but not to a wedding chapel. He tricked you—and himself—into marriage with phenomenal sex. If that’s all there was to life, you’d still be married. 

“Leon, I lost my pajamas.” Either you left them at the last place, which was entirely possible considering you were so caught up in corralling the kids and shoving their stuff into their tiny suitcases. Or, Leon stole them. You doubted the second one because none of your panties seemed to be missing. You knew him to be a panty thief and you doubted that he’d reformed since your divorce.

He knew you were asking to borrow clothes, but he said, “Oh? Gonna go for the panties-only look tonight then? I don’t have a problem with it.” Oh, maybe he was the pajama thief all along. Maybe he was letting you choose what pair of panties he’d get to see you wear.

“I was going to ask to borrow a t-shirt.”

“Maybe you should’ve been nicer to me.” He clicked his tongue and gave you a smug smile. 

“Are you really going to be like that?”

You knew he was being a dick, but he’d give in if you really wanted it that badly. And yet, you let him continue to try to rope you into sleeping with him. He hadn’t asked for that yet, hadn’t even really hinted at it, but that’s what he always wanted, despite being in his 40s. You’d think a man’s sex drive would’ve gone down by then. 

“We could make a deal,” he offered.

“What’s the deal?” You crossed your arms. 

“Clothes off, then we’ll talk.”

You gave him a look, pretending to be pissed, but you got down to your underwear.

“Goddamn,” he said. 

“What?” you asked, covering up a bit. The thong you wore wasn’t exciting, just a thin cotton piece of fabric in a solid color.

“I’m regretting that divorce. You look even sexier than I remember.”

“Shut up. You want me because I’m the best option you have. I’m the only woman in the room and all you know how to do is think with your dick.”

“That’s harsh. You know it’s not true, though, babe. I’d choose you over any other woman.”

“You would not.”

“I wouldn’t? Didn’t you hear me say that no one ever does it like you?”

“You said one girl doesn’t do it like me.”

“I meant all of them.” He lifted your chin. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever married. Don’t you think that says something?”

You scoffed. “So it wasn’t about love? I was just the best sex you’ve ever had?”

“It was both. The sex was great, though, you can admit it.”

He was already pulling you into bed and you were letting him. It would be less embarrassing if you were more drunk. You had two drinks. Hours ago. You were both dead fucking sober. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered into your ear. 

“Fine. If you promise not to tell, then I’ll admit it. You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“Really? No one better in all these years?”

“Nope.”

“You must think highly of me, then. I’m flattered, really, but who knows if I’d live up to those expectations.”

“Memories, not expectations.”

“Old memories. Maybe I’m not as good as I used to be… or maybe I’m better.”

“Are you trying to proposition me?”

“I’m not trying. I am.”

“I shouldn’t,” you said.

“Why not? This is probably the most wholesome sexual opportunity you’ve had in years. It’s romantic, really. We’re parents, taking the kids on vacation. It’s not like you’re some random chick from the bar. You’re the woman I married, the mother of my kids, the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“I’m the only woman you’ve ever loved?”

“Yeah,” he said as if it should’ve been obvious. 

“You swear?”

“On my life,” he said, looking you in the eyes. 

“If I do this with you, you’re not going to make fun of me, or… I don’t know. You know how I am, I just don’t want you to be so flippant about it.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. How ‘bout we don’t have sex? How ‘bout I show you how I feel about you?”

You knew what he meant and you knew what he could do with his mouth. 

“How do you feel about me?” You asked. 

He cupped your cheek and leaned in close. “May I?”

“Mhm,” you nodded and he kissed you. It was sweet. It wasn’t dirty at all, at first. It was tender, almost loving. 

“Lie down,” he said in between kisses, “Get comfortable.”

And you obliged. Why would you refuse a man going down on you? He kissed you from your mouth down to your stomach, stopping to play with your tits, sucking on each of them. 

“They’re so perfect,” he mumbled. 

He pressed a kiss to each one before he makes his way downward. He tugged off your panties with his teeth and began kissing your thighs. 

“Would you give me the honor -” he started. 

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh. You pushed his head forward, urging him to get on with it.

He did as you asked and buried his face between your thighs. He has gotten better at this, you thought. You remembered a clean-shaven man who now had a five o’clock shadow. It tickled your inner thighs as his tongue ran over your folds. He sucked on your clit with meticulous reverence. 

You threw your head back and put your hands in his hair. It spurred him on further. He was the only man you’d ever known who understood the meaning of ‘don’t stop’. 

“Leon,” you moaned and he hummed in response, not taking his mouth away. “I’m so close,” you said. 

You could see his smile by the look in his eyes while his lips were occupied. His fingers curled against your g-spot and he pressed a hand on your abdomen to heighten the sensation. All the while, his tongue tended to your clit. Your orgasm hit you and you had to cover your mouth to hold back your moans. Leon didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and he’d licked up every drop you’d given him. 

He finally came up for air and you were still catching your breath. 

“Jesus Christ,” you said when he lied down next to you. 

He laughed, looking a bit proud of himself. 

“Do you want me to-?”

“Only if you want to, babe,” he said with a kiss on your forehead. 

“I wasn’t going to because I wanted to see if you could be selfless for once, but god, Leon, after that, I’d feel bad for not paying back the favor.”

“Hey, I’ll gladly accept, but you know I enjoyed myself quite a bit already. I wouldn’t call it selfless.” Yeah, that’s right: Leon was truly unable to be selfless, but at least you knew he genuinely enjoys going down on you. 

“I can tell,” you whispered, palming his hard cock. You could feel a wet spot forming already. 

“All for you,” he said.

“Why thank you,” you said as you dipped your head under the covers. 

You didn’t play the same teasing game Leon did. You made quick work of his underwear and got your mouth on his dick as quickly as you could. 

“God, I was so right,” he said, “Nobody does it like you. Not even close.” He groaned when you cup his balls. You could tell he was getting close already, so you took him as deep as you could. He had to bite his knuckles to hold back moans. 

He only took his fingers away from his mouth to warn you, panting, “Gonna come.”

You appreciated the warning, but as usual, you kept going, letting him come down your throat. Spitters are quitters.

You emerged from the covers to see his dazed expression. He smiled stupidly at you, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” you said. 

“Still want that shirt?”

“I think your arms should be warm enough.”

“I think so too,” he said as he pulled you into a hug.

You laughed and covered your face. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I can’t believe I just did that. I fucking hate you, and you still got me in bed with you.”

“Maybe you don’t hate me that much, then.”

“No, I hate you even more because you’re so damn charming. And sexy. And cheesy.” Maybe that orgasm was a truth serum.

“Well, I don’t hate you,” he said.

“I’m shocked.”

“I thought I showed you how much I love you a minute ago. Do you need a little reminder?”

“I think I need a big reminder.”

“That’s my girl.”

That big reminder turned out to be a big mistake. You found that out the hard way when you and Leon spent the next morning at urgent care. Hindsight is 20/20, they say. You thought your foresight was pretty good, but the gas-station sunglasses, caked in sunscreen messed with your vision. Or maybe it was the margaritas.

“They say Maryland is the best place to get crabs, don’t they?” Leon joked with the nurse, who only seemed mildly amused.

“What does that mean? We didn’t get crabs,” your daughter said loudly on your trek back to the waiting room.

“You didn’t get crabs, honey,” Leon said.

“I thought crabs was an STD,” your son said. Luckily, he’d waited until you got into the car, saving you some of the shame.

“Where’d you learn that?”

“Mason told me his mom got it.”

“Which one is Mason’s mom?” Leon asked. “Is she the one with the fake tits?”

“I dunno.”

“Wasn’t it Mason’s birthday last weekend?” you asked in an effort to change the subject.

“Yep,” Leon said, having his own revelation, “that was a great party.”

When you returned to your home away from home, you put on a movie for the kids so you could distract them while you spoke to Leon.

“We need to have a talk,” you said sternly.

“Whoa, what’s got you all crabby now?”

You pulled him by the arm into the kitchen.

“You had a fun time with Mason’s mom at that party, Leon?” You asked, one hand on the counter, the other on the island, caging him in, so he couldn’t walk away with a cute quip.

“I may have, yeah.”

You stood there, using all your mental fortitude not to slap him – not when your kids were close enough to see it. You hoped your ice-cold gaze would be enough to scare him.

“Hey, listen,” he said, gently placing his hand on your arm, “once that fancy cream we got kicks in, I’ll give you a really nice apology.”

“I would love to hear the words ‘I’m sorry’ come out of your mouth for once.”

“How ‘bout I try to spell it with my tongue?”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Yes, you did.

[matchadobo]

KIDD; hey, captain. may i have this dance?

wc: 2216 summary: where name, the only one who can make kidd blush, asks her captain to a dance and later elicit a confession out of him. warnings: fem reader, very fluff you'd actually melt, nothing too crazy or offensive, NOT PROOFREAD

"hey, captain. may i have this dance?"

it's like the devil made an entrance as everything went downhill when you finished talking. kidd was at a loss letting your words register in his brain. the grip on his mug tightened and it seemed like blood rose to his face. he started choking on thin air and began drumming on his chest.

while being in the middle of a conversation, you approached kidd with a soft smile and an inviting hand. the person he was talking to, killer, raised both eyebrows and averted his gaze from the two of you as he continued sipping on his wine. some of his crew mates sitting near him had heard it and started snickering.

it wasn't really anything new. you were always pretty affectionate to your captain, blatantly expressing your admiration every chance you get. you made it crystal clear that you're interested ever since the day you confessed, sober and intentional at that. kidd didn't reject you, nor accepted your confession. he just ruffled your hair and said, "yeah i know, buttercup.". which was more than enough for you to feel all sorts of butterflies inside.

it's not like you're expecting for him to return it, you just want to let it out. so you didn't act awkward about it. not for kidd though. when you start showing more love for him, he'd be a blushing mess and would curse you out. not that those curses mean something unpleasant, those are just empty words as defense to his emotions.

that's when you started personally sending him food, lots of them, to his workshop when he coops up in there fixing up some weapons for the crew or when he feels like tinkering. those are the times he'd genuinely feel your utter interest in the things he likes.

you'd always be his cheerleader and he loves it a little too much, but he never shows it; not that he's good at hiding it, his cheeks and behaviour are enough to tell you he anticipates it. when he prevails against an enemy, your words always usher that rhythm in his heart. or when he comes up with a new attack for his devil fruit and you want to see it first. and you two end up sparring.

and when you save his ass more than usual. you always watch his six more than the others, it's pretty unfair but it doesn't mean you let your crew mates get harmed. unfortunately, you just have bias. not that kidd needs it. but that one time he did, you kicked a knife aimed at his face and redirected it to his side. you saw the shift of shock to anger in his face, accompanied with a deep red tint on his cheeks.

like when you brush your arms or knees against his when you're seated together, because you always aim for a spot next to him and the crew respects that. and when you always pour him a drink, ordering for him and all that. you ask him what's wrong because he's always so red even with one mug of rum. he'll just grumble and chug even more rum.

but he never tells you how he feels about it, about you. and it's okay. you're content with him allowing you to love him. it's already a privilege to have the permission to love the most notorious.

so when you don that bandage dress in red he got you for the night, the cacophony in his surroundings was dulled. his blood pressure rose and his hands became sweaty as you stood there with the warmest gaze and an anticipating smile.

"a-ah, maybe it isn't your thing, right capta-"

he suddenly stood up, he doesn't know what prompted him to do it. he could just ignore you, snicker at you, or tell you how dumb it is. but he chose not to. if there's one thing kidd does to your feelings, he doesn't step on it. as oppose to others, so maybe he has a bias too.

he towered over you, a scowl scrunched up on his face as he looked down at you. a shocked expression soon changed with absolute joy was now evident on your face. he yanked your hand, only with a little force though, and pulled you closer.

"only for a while, aye?" he lowly whispered on your ear, tone demanding. "i don't really dance."

you were having a goddamn field day. your heart was in an impossibly fast marathon. you were smiling ear to ear, pulling away and looking up at him while nodding with joy. "come on?" you invited, gesturing to the dance floor that was now filled with couples slow dancing.

once you two stand before each other, in an awkwardly far distance. you giggled a little, noticing how he obviously doesn't know how to dance, especially slow dancing.

you reached over to his side to hold his hands, both human and metal. he was surprised, especially by your touch, by the way he stiffened up. but he let you guide him.

"your hands goes here." you placed them on your waist, "and mine goes here." you finished with a smile, placing your arms by either sides of his neck. "and we just sway and change positions on alternating foot. easy enough, yeah?"

he noticed that your eyes were especially radiant tonight, how you exceptionally worked on yourself with the make-up you put on. the ornaments in your styled hair complimented the color of your dress. how the chained, golden necklace he gave you as a 'dumb scrap he never uses and deems it trash' framed your neck and cascaded down your chest. how you smell way too expensive he coulda thought you were someone else. you were all different and it made him feel the same with you, except stronger.

"why are you staring? something off on my face?" you started growing conscious, your hand reaching over to touch your cheek but his human arm caught it and placed it back to where it came from.

"hands off, you might smudge your make-up." he tsked, "nothing off 'round here, short stack. 's quite the opposite actually."

"pft, what does that even mean?" you tilted your head, scanning his eyes for answers. but it's just you fangirling about the yellows that mesmerized you. "if you have time to spout nonsense, maybe think about not bumping on my foot." you rolled your eyes, glancing down at the movement of your shoes.

"ain't it your fault for haulin' a total amateur at this?" his voice raised a little, scowl deepening.

"hm? something so simple like this is giving you a hard time, captain?" you egged him on, and it's exactly what he needs to loosen up. a cocky smile on your face with one of your brows raised.

"oh, so you wanna be like that? this is another one of your games, huh?" he grinned, grip on you tightening as you successfully riled him up. "it's about time i win this thing then."

"win?" you were baffled, soon getting caught off guard from the way he spun you around with his human arm then pulled you closer with his metal one.

"let's switch it up this time, aye? i ain't always gotta be the one blushin', right?" he bent down your ear and whispered a little too huskily. it was a completely different side of him you haven't seen.

you were stunned. your hands was placed awkwardly on his chest, realizing it made you completely nervous and red. "quiet now, huh? come on, where's the loud name who refuses to shut up?" he looked down, grip on your waist tighter.

"w-what are you doing, kidd?" you stuttered, suddenly feeling cold. not sure what to do with yourself.

"dancin'. bet you liked that spin, didn'tcha?" a laugh rumbled on his chest.

"t-that was pretty good for a beginner." you mustered a smile, still hiding your face from the proximity. his metallic cologne more pungent in your nose, amplifying the rhythm of your already rabbiting heart.

"what do i say? i'm a damn natural!" he boasted. but soon notice that ever since that spin, you didn't bat him an eye. "oi, somethin' up?"

when you finally did, he melted right there. your brows were lightly furrowed, your face was entirely red as you chewed on your lip. "i-i'm sorry i was in too much joy from that, you were so, so handsome when you did that." you proclaimed, a hand covering your mouth as you shut your eyes.

a smile slowly spread on kidd's lips and a laugh ticked his throat, eventually bursting into laughter at your reaction. "such a fuckin' darling, you are. goddamn it." he had to clutch his knees from laughing so much, a tear falling down his eye. you soon started laughing too from his reaction.

from an outsider's perspective, you two looked like you two totally lost it.

as the laughter died down, it seems as if the surroundings did too. time felt slower and the crowd felt farther. then you felt him staring a little too long, as if he's watching you.

"i must've had too much to drink because i'm about to do somethin' so damn stupid right now." he pinched the bridge of his nose, wincing.

you tilted your head, puzzled once more. "what- hey!"

he grabbed your wrist and led you out of the ship. once you two are on the port where most of the crowd had died down.

"kidd, what's happening?"

he fished something out of his pocket and dangled a necklace with a tulip pendant before you. "see this?" you nodded. "it comes with a ring." he placed the ring by his palm with the similar pendant.

endeared by his display of trinkets he obviously made, you were more confused to admire it. "w-why are you showing me this?"

"because i had planned, a long fuckin' time ago, ever since you confessed that you like me, to do the damn same. and i was gonna give you these with a stupid fuckin' bouquet of tulips because... you said you love those damn things so much. m-my dumb hair reminds you of it." he was pausing between his words as he tried navigating the right terms. the port light helped you see how kidd was blushing and how his eyes looked everywhere but your way.

"but i didn't and i shouldn't. cuz you don't deserve any of this." he gestured to himself from head to toe. your heart broke and you want to interrupt him. but he has more to say. "you deserve someone who ain't out here killin', terrorizin' cities, and most importantly not an idiot who's too busy to chase one piece than to reciprocate your feelings." he sighed, the jewellery now obstructed and hidden in his fist.

"so, it hurts. to see you do all this for me. give me all that love. i'm startin' to think there's not enough for your stupid ass. cuz here i am, brushing you off for you to, hopefully, grow tired of me. and start findin' a man to treat you better."

the alcohol was legit too fucking strong, because sober kidd would NEVER admit this even at gunpoint.

"bah, this is too embarrasing and stupid. you had to witness you captain in a pathetic stat- ow!" you couldn't contain it anymore and decided to slap him to wake him the fuck up.

"with your cowardice, it sure as hell is pathetic of you, kidd." you replied, voice coated in irritstion. he looked at you with fiery eyes as he stroked the slapped spot on his face.

"i can't believe my captain would say any of that bullshit! you're so fucking dumb, god!" you stomped by the wooden boards, completely vexed.

kidd had no choice but to just stand there. awaiting your next course of actions.

"you plan on getting the one piece as a coward?! hah?!" you pointed at him. "what makes you think i'll choose someone else over a fucking unit like you?!"

"you think so, huh?" he replied, ego getting brushed.

"i'm fucking sure so! i thought i had made it clear that i'm totally, with every fiber of my being, in love with you." you crossed your arms.

"but all i've done is react passively, that ain't-"

you shut him up by pulling on his collar and crashing your lips with his. sucking on his lips before he opened up to his tongue, tasting the rum. he moaned through your lips, prying open your mouth too. his human arm getting handsy with you, feeling up the bareness of your back and the shape of your torso. your hands then traveled on his neck to hold him firmly, the roughness of his scars brushing by your fingers.

you two soon ran out of breath and pulled away. he then took his time squeezing you a little closer to his body, lips soon pressed on the coldness of your bare shoulders. you leaned your head on his shoulder, reveling on his scent and proximity.

"of all the times we got drunk together, all you needed was a dance to come with it so you can let the crazy out in you." your breath tickled his neck.

"just need that one lil push from your sweet ass."

ASJSAJSJAJASJS I DIED AND RESURRECTED

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 3 - Chance~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: As you adjust to life in the hotel, you start to form bonds with other guests and offer your help when needed. However, things take a turn when you faint and wake up in the room of the one person you hoped to avoid.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery (Alastor), sassiness, Val is mentioned, Angel gets hurt (sorry), cursing, fluff, eventual smut (the next part is a SPICY one sinners), actual plot, slow burn, and of course 18+, this is the last shorter chapter, I'll start feeding you more!

1.7k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (You're on it!) Part 4 Part 5  Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

Over the next few weeks you seem to adjust well to the hotel. You try to help Nifty with at least one meal a day, give advice to Charlie on different ‘redemption exercises’, and have even helped an eggboy or two not get scrambled. Alastor seemed to keep his distance which was much appreciated (especially after hearing the stories and history of the “Radio Demon”). You do what you can to fill the void you feel from not being able to help to your full potential. Of course, there really hasn’t been a need for your expertise. But as they say, ask and you shall receive.

Angel was coming in from yet another brutal shift with Val. He was usually quick to dismiss the bruising around his wrists and face. “Comes with the job babe!” He’d say through a toothy smile. “I didn’t do a good job if I don’t come home with some battle scars!” You’d share a look with Husk, silently agreeing how fucked up this was, but Angel always changed the subject to avoid any pity or awkwardness.

This time was different. It was later than usual. Everyone but you and Husk had long since made their way to bed. Angel walked in staggering and not in the ‘oh he was out with Cherri’ way. He was barely able to make it to the couch before collapsing to his hands and knees. His breathing shallow and raspy – you could hear the blood gurgling in his lungs as he struggled with each breath. This was the worst Val had done yet. That motherfucker is going to kill him one day if he keeps this up – Overlord or not, he’s going to pay. You take a mental note to make a visit to Val, but right now, Angel needed help.

Carefully you try to lift him onto the couch. Angel hisses from the sudden movement. Damnit this is bad. I need a few seconds without any eyes around. “Husk, be a dear and run up to my room please. I have some medical supplies by my bed.”

“No need, I have some stuff behind the ba----” he stops when he sees the glare you’re shooting over your shoulder. “Ah alright fine, I’ll be right back.” he grumbled as he made his way up the stairs. That was the great thing about Husk - he wasn’t one to ask too many questions.

Finally alone you lay Angel back on the couch. “Hey Angel? Babe? I need you to look at me. I know it hurts and it’s hard to breathe but I have a trick that’ll help relieve some of the pressure. Trust me?” He places one of his hands on your shoulder as confirmation, unable to get enough air to speak. Time to work my magic.

Kneeling by the couch, you gently place your hands on his ribs and stomach while leaning your head over his chest, “Alright babe I need you to take a deep breath and close your eyes. This won’t feel great.” You wince as the words leave your mouth. For this to work you’d have to cause him some discomfort otherwise some more complication questions might arise. R̷̢͙̃ǘ̷̮͔͠l̵̰̝̆ḛ̷̀͊ ̵͕̍#̵̜̌2̷̼́̅ Never tell a soul what (or how much) power you have.

“Ok eyes closed and breathe in 3……2…..1….” I’m sorry Angel, you deserve so much better than this.  In one motion you shove into his ribs sending him writhing in pain while you place a soft kiss on his chest. The internal injuries made it easy to hide the pink glow that usually came from the wound, however the pain…yeah that shit still felt like torture. During your time training with Carmilla you learned the graver the injury, the more agonizing it was for you. After a few intense moments of pain, you pull away and sit back on your legs, trying to hide the lingering sting you felt in your lungs.

Angel groaned as he opened his eyes, finally able to take a proper breath. “Uhhhgg—what the fuuuuuuuuuuck was that?”

“Just some tricks I had to learn living in the city. You know how rough it gets out there. Glad you’re already feeling better.” You peck Angel’s cheek, feeling a soft twinge on your lips. The last bit of bruising on his face fades without him even realizing it. “Thanks toots. I don’t know how you did it, but I owe ya one.”

On queue Husk turns down the stairs with your medical kit. His face twists in a mix of relief and shock watching Angel up moving as if he wasn’t just on the verge of death five minutes earlier. He chuckles making his way back behind the bar. “Damn you’ve got quite the touch I see.” You tense at his choice of words. Fuck fuck fuck…calm down, he didn’t see anything. “Remind me to keep you on speed dial. Satan knows this one is bound to need you around again!” Husk points to Angel who by now has taken his usual place at the bar. “Oh shut up pussycat – the only thing I need right now is a few shots to forget this day ever happened! Let’s go! Booze me up Mr. Bartender!”

Deciding you have had enough excitement for the night, you say good evening to the guys and drag yourself through the quiet halls. Cursing the aftershock your body was going to endure after having to heal such extensive damage. It wasn’t horrible, more annoying like a bad hangover or flu, but the joy and warmth you felt from being able to help always made the pain more than worth it. You were just a few doors away from your room when your vision blurred. Why is the hall spinning? I don’t remember drinking. Oh fuck ----

Soft music fills your ears as you regain some form of consciousness. A familiar smell floods your senses causing your eyes to shoot open. Looking around you realize you’re in Alastor’s room. Not that you’d been here before, but between the bayou to your left and the freshly laundered red suits hanging by the door - it was obvious. Plus, his smell filled the room. You’d only dreamt of that smell and his warmth at least twice a week since first meeting the demon, much to your frustration.

Sharp static and ringing fill your ears as you sit up. Is this going to happen every time with this guy? Alastor appears in his chair by the bayou, chest puffed out and legs crossed. “Finally awake I see. I was just leaving my radio tower for the evening when you were coming down the hall. Quite a spectacle watching you try to walk straight. Drink too much with our good pal Husker?”

There he goes again trying to drill his eyes into your soul. You’ve seen him interact with the others. His eyes never had the same intensity as they did with you. Lie lie lie. “Yeah, you know how hard him and Angel go some nights. Guess I shouldn’t try to keep up next time.” You try to laugh it off hoping the answer was sufficient enough for him to drop the subject.

It wasn’t.

“Hmmm that’s funny. I didn’t smell a bit of alcohol when I picked you up off that floor.” Shit. “I don’t expect you to tell me everything dear however blatantly lying to me will get you on a side you don’t want to be on.” The static in his voice was piercing. You stared at him in silence. Work brain work, please give me anything. Rule #4 Never let your w̸͉̐e̵͓͐a̷̘͆k̴̭̏ñ̶͔e̶̢͒s̵̩̉ś̵͈è̸̮š̶͚ ̴̣̏s̴̖̈́h̷̲͐o̶̳͗w̷̱̾. Your lack of response apparently told him everything he needed in the moment. Standing up now, he begins to mindfully take off his jacket, unbutton his vest, and push up his sleeves.

This is it. This I how I die. And all because ---- oh fucking hell --- how did he get even more attractive? Is he doing this on purpose? Wow I’ve really got to get my priorities straight.

You can feel your heart pounding into your throat in anticipation as he sits in front of you on the bed. He slowly removes his gloves and tosses them to the side table.

“Let’s try this again…“

He reaches for your hands making you jerk slightly but he doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. You feel him pull you and as if under a spell, you follow mindlessly until you’re resting on your knees. He brings your inner wrist to his lips, gently peppering kisses between his words.

“What could possibly... “ kiss

“cause someone to drop as if… “ kiss

“the very life was sucked out of them?” kiss

An unfamiliar heat rips through your body, settling in your stomach and a little lower if you were being honest. You’ve never allowed anyone to be this intimate with you. Rule #3 N̴e̵v̴e̶r̵ ̷b̶r̷i̶n̸g̷ ̷a̸n̵y̷one too close.

“I – I – don’t..I didn’t – just tired.“ you give up on trying to form a coherent answer. What is he trying to get out of this? Alastor rests your hands on his cheeks. A deep sigh leaving his lips when he feels your warmth. You didn’t dare move, realizing you were just as touch starved as the demon in front of you.

Your mind is at full blown war. Torn between the desire to lean into this precarious high and absolute rage that he was trying to get into your head.

“I need to know so I can help you, my dear. I want to protect you.” His voice was clear but low. It lacked any trace of his usual radio effect. It’s as if he was dropping every façade. Speaking to you not as the Radio Demon but as just Alastor. “You and I could do great things [Y/N]. Trust me. Let me show you.”

What is he doing? I have worked relentlessly to be one of the strongest, most elusive demons in Hell. I fear no one. I need NO ONE. Yet here I am completely unravelling…

….to the Radio Demon.

Rule #̴̤͌1̴̢͝ ̶̘̽N̵̹̐e̴̯̋v̷̳̈́e̸̯̎r̵̠̕ ̸͈̊t̵̼͑ŗ̷̃u̴͔̓s̷̢̑t̴̪̓ ̵͎̊a̴̺͛n̶̛̳o̴̺͆t̴̤̿h̶̗̿e̴̞̋ȓ̸͜ Overlord.

[darylbae]

hi new tumblr writer :3

I would give anything for vampire daryl (perhaps gender neutral pronouns)

smut, angst, fluff, idc. just give me vampire daryl (please)

pretty little thing — daryl dixon 🩰

in which vamp!daryl finds you in the woods, but doesn't have it in him to feed on you

note: im new to vamp!daryl so this will be very short, however if you like it i can make more!!

Daryl has had urges. Urges to feed, urges that are biologically something he can't help. He's always had these urges, since before the world fell apart, however it was easier to maintain back then. Now, with resources being limited, it was harder. It was even harder to keep this from the people around him. Nothing tasted like human blood. No deer, squirrel, or rabbit would ever taste as good as a human.

Daryl would wake up early to feed, and go to bed later than the rest of the group. He'd managed to hide it well, nobody had questioned him yet. Even when the people they'd butt heads with would disappear and no longer be an issue. Blood on him, on anyone, wasn't out of the ordinary anymore. It was another early morning, Daryl had his crossbow slung on his arm. He walked with purpose, not having fed on any human in a while was making him ravenous. His boots crunched on the leaves as he left the rest of the group, finally getting into the woods to look for something filling. With his heightened hearing, he couldn't hear much. Couldn't smell anything close by. So it would be a long journey ahead of him.

He'd trekked through almost half the woods now, after picking up a sound a while ago, he believed to be getting closer to it. He growled to himself, just wanting the metallic taste sat on his tongue again. It had been so long. There it was again. That sound. That faint whimper in the distance. He'd picked up speed, trying to be light on his feet, but it was no use. He needed it. Now. There you were, clutching a tree with tears rolling down your face. You were a treat. He'd approached you, and of course you were apprehensive, like all smart girls were. But you were so desperate, that you'd reached out for him. "Please..." You yelped, putting all of your weight onto him, "my leg, it hurts." Daryl held your waist, looking down at the blood sliding down your leg. Like a warm chocolate drizzle on a cake, you looked good enough to feast on. Daryl noticed you had only shorts on, not entirely practical for the world you live in, and a jacket with a utility vest wrapped around you. Boots too, great choice. He could smell you, so sickly sweet. "Aren't you a pretty, little thing?" You looked up at him, brows tilted upwards and pure innocence in your eyes. "What happened?" He asked, pushing you backwards gently to lean on the tree behind you. He'd brushed some hair away from your face, before slowly bending down to be level with your wound. A gash on your thigh, not deep enough to be fatal, but needed to be wrapped up. The smell of you, of your blood, was getting to him. He needed it, more than he needed air in his lungs. But he couldn't. Usually his impulses were impossible to control, he'd be onto a human before he could even blink, but you... He wanted to enjoy you, he didn't have the heart to hear you cry again, because of him. He'd dragged his thumb up a line of blood that had trailed down your leg, bringing it to his mouth to enjoy. You were so out of it from blood loss that you hadn't even picked up on it. And if you did, you were past caring. You were still crying, as he'd stood back up, his height very much towering over you. "I need t'wrap it up," he stated, his eyes trained on the curve of your neck. The perfect space to have a little taste. "Ya gonna to have t'come back with me." You just nodded. You were probably going to bleed out, so either way you'd die. So you were betting on this man being good. "Want me to carry ya?" He asked, and you nodded, unable to put any pressure on your leg. Smirk plastered to his face, he inched closer to you. He was breathing you in, slowly feeling himself becoming addicted to your scent. He wanted to have you around, to enjoy you more. He'd have to feed another way.

[multific]

Who Are You

Hannibal Lecter x Reader

Summary: Humans are born with milky white blood. The more crimes they commit the darker their blood gets. One day, you meet your soulmate, and everything is amazing. A couple of years later, during dinner, he cuts himself only to expose black blood.

A/N: This idea is NOT mine! I just found it while browsing, credit goes to the owner.

Everyone was pure at one point. And as they went on with their lives, and did bad things, their blood got darker and darker. 

It was extremely rare for people to have pure white skin at an old age.

Many people hid their blood, avoiding cutting or hurting themselves at all costs.

There were many criminals who were discovered thanks to a simple papercut. 

Many tried to find a reason as to why this was happening. Many tried to cheat it and even the after the worst acts, they tried to reverse the darkening of their blood.

But it wasn't possible.

And scientists had no idea why this was happening. 

But you went on with your life as normal. Met many new people amongst them Will Graham, who quickly became like a brother to you. And through him, you met Hannibal Lecter.

You swear that day, when you picked up Will changed your life and you met your soulmate. 

Hannibal and you quickly found each other. And your love bloom. 

Soon, you were married to him without a question and you have even forgotten about the whole blood thing.

When Will began to spread all those lies about Hannibal, you were honestly concerned for your friend.

"One day, you will see." is all Will said when you last visited him. 

You threw your bag to the side as you let out a huff, arriving home, you found Hannibal in the kitchen, cooking something that smelled way too good.

"How was the visit?" he asked without turning to see you.

"The usual." you said with a sigh.

"Let's just eat ad forget about it." he said as you walked over to him, hugging him from behind.

He suddenly let out a hiss.

You immediately let go and as you saw the blood you grabbed his arm and guided him to the sink, letting water onto his cut.

"I'm sorry," you said as you rushed to find the medkit.

When you arrived back, Hannibal was staring at you with a blank expression.

"What? Is it really bad? I told you your knives are too sharp." you looked down and opened the box.

"Y/N," the way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine, not the good kind, you never heard anything like this before. You looked up and your eyes met him, he looked like a predator, a lion ready to jump, he didn't look like the man you married. 

He scared you.

You opened your mouth to say something but then your eyes trailed to the cutting board which was covered in blood, blood so dark you could see reflection in them.

You felt the shiver once more, a shiver starting on top of your head that went all the way down your spine and ended in your feet.

Will was right.

But something in your mind clicked.

You fell in love with him as he was. There were many many signs which you chose to ignore, so who were you to get scared now?

You let out a sigh.

"You might need stitches. Looks like a lot of blood so the cut must be deep but you are the doctor, not me." you handed him the box. "I'll get the... chicken... out of the oven." you moved to the board and then to the sink to wash it. 

Then five minutes later you found yourself in the dining room, eating in silence and now, not even music was playing. Complete silence. Only the sound of the utensils against the plate.

"Is it... really beef?" you asked as Hannibal looked at you with a smirk. You smiled to yourself and shook your head. "Was it ever?" you asked but you didn't need an answer. "Well, they do say you are what you eat..."

You knew that now that you knew who he was, he will keep an extremely close eye on you. If he didn't already. "I'm okay with it, by the way. Just wanted you to hear it. I still love you and you are my husband, this doesn't change a thing."

"You shouldn't visit Will anymore."

"I shouldn't, he might pressure me to go to Jack." you nodded. "I won't tell anyone."

"I know you won't." he said, "I believe you knew long before Will did. You just ignored the signs." you nodded in agreement as his hand found yours. "I would never hurt you, I do love you." he said with a reassuring voice and you did believe him.

"I love you too." you said with a smile before you dug into your food. "Does this make my blood darken too?" you wondered and for a moment Hannibal also stopped.

"I'm cutting you to see." he said. 

"It's not what I meant by any means, I was simply wondering." you let out a sigh.

"I was only joking." he said with a smile. A smile so wicked, so dangerous, yet you absolutely loved it. 

You kept your promise and never went to see Will again.

He would know instantly and you loved Hannibal too much to go to Jack.

But late at night, while he was out, you decided to head into your office and picked up a pin.

Pushing it into your skin, you stood in the window, letting the moonlight reveal your secret.

And now, even your blood was pure black. 

You could only stare at it as you stood in complete silence.

You should be terrified. 

You should run.

But it was all over now.

It is who you were.

Hannibal's wife and now, his partner in crime with your black blood matching his.

And somehow, you were okay with it.

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