#like some of my friends have rushed to get close to me and cling to me and now theres no mystery. nothing to learn

[kath-artic]

i wish i didnt get sick of people so quickly. there are very few people that REALLY hold my interest, but i have a lot of friends that i love dearly but see far too often and i feel bad because my boredom quickly turns to frustration and i don't know how to articulate that without being rude

[jobean12-blog]

Adventures in Babysitting

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: You and Bucky are friends and it's clear you both want more but you fight it, scared of your feelings and ruining what you have together. But spending some quality time together can't be such a bad idea...right?

Author's Note: I just needed some fluffiness. So here we are. The little girl in this (niece) is probably around 6ish-7. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thanks Daisy! 🥰

Warnigns: soft and sweet fluff, some flirting, tension, teasing, lots of cute.

You order your second drink from the barista and weave through the small line to get back to your table. Most of the staff here know you by name and don’t mind that you spend a few hours of your weekend morning enjoying a drink (or three) and reading.

Settling back into the chair you grab your book and try to find where you left off. The door to the shop opens and cool breeze blows in. Taking your warm cup between your fingers you lift it to your lips, hoping the heat will seep into your bones, when you hear your name.

You blink up to see Bucky standing near the counter and a different kind of warmth rushes through your body. His hair is messy, and he’s dressed in a tee shirt and sweats, as if he’s just been out for a run. Even a little sweaty, he looks better than should be allowed.

He pulls out his wallet to pay and your eyes drop automatically to the way the damp tee shirt clings to his shoulders and dips in at his waist, down to where his hip bones…

The sound of the chair scraping along the floor makes you snap your head up to meet his eyes, blue and clearly amused to have caught you ogling him.

He sits across from you, stretching his arms out on the table, and takes his time doing his own, totally blatant, inspection.

You raise a brow.

“Little chilly for a run, isn’t it?” you say.

He shrugs and takes another sip of his drink.

“Let me guess though, as usual, you’re not cold at all.”

He aims a smile at you, ignoring your teasing remark.

“So,” you start, trying again, “what are you doing here?”

His eyes sparkle and he leans forward to push the book in your hands upward, positioning it so he can see the front cover.

“Lookin’ for you doll,” he says simply before reading the title.

“Enjoying your romance?” he asks after, his smile growing wider.

It’s your turn to shrug and you place your bookmark inside the book and close it.

Under the table he stretches his long legs out in front of him and brackets each of his feet against yours, the sides of your legs touching.

“Well?” he asks again.

“I just started it. The tension is building…you know a slow burn, but I think it has potential.”

He stares at you, relaying so much in his expression: just like us?

“Want to get some dinner later?”

“Actually, I have plans,” you tell him.

His expression falls just the tiniest amount.

“Plans?”

“My brother and Marie have a wedding to go to and I promised I’d watch Samantha.”

“Babysitting!” he states. “Now that sounds fun.”

You give him a look and start to gather your things.

“I need to do a few errands before I head over.”

You stand and hook your bag over your shoulder before pushing the chair in. He stands and reaches forward to untwist the strap.

“Ok.”

You stand there, the obvious question (and tension) hanging between you.

“Do you want to babysit with me?” you ask. “Even though I’m sure you’ll find it totally boring.”

“I’ve hung out with Sam’s kids a lot. They’re fun.”

Your eyes widen slightly, and you watch the smooth line of his throat as he swallows.

“Soooo…you want to come?”

“Why not?”

“You might be bored out of your mind.”

His smile melts your insides.

“Maybe doll, but wouldn’t it be more fun if we’re bored together?”

“Are you sure?” you ask. “There will probably be tea parties, and dolls, and a makeover.”

He follows as you head toward the door and holds it open.

“Thanks,” you say.

He smiles. “I’m sure. It’s nothin’ I can’t handle.”

“Ok, great!”

“So, what time?” he asks.

“Five. And you have to bring pizza and let her do your hair if she asks.”

“You know…and I can’t believe I’m saying this, you’re a great babysitter.”

You wiggle your toes, feet propped up on the coffee table and still drying from the bright pink nail polish Samantha painted on.

Bucky grins at you from across the way where he’s sitting with Sam at a small table, in an even smaller chair, in the middle of what appears to be a very fancy tea party.

His usually soft, floppy hair is spiky now, tied up by bright hair ties in about ten tiny, crazy ponytails.

He leans toward Sam conspiratorially and shoves his thumb in your direction. “I told you she thinks I’m great.”

Sam slides some decorative barrettes into his mess of hair. “And you said cute.”

“You mean you said you’re cute,” you explain, eyeing Bucky. “I never said such a thing.”

“I never said you said it…” Bucky counters and politely thanks Sam when she gives him more tea. “But I know you’re thinking it. Especially right now.”

He throws you a little wink.

Sam smiles at Bucky then at you.

“I think he looks cute!” she says sweetly.

You stand and walk over to them, kissing the top of Sam’s head and without thinking, brushing a finger over a piece of Bucky’s hair that’s come loose.

“Well, you definitely get points for being a good sport.”

You expect him to shoot back with some snarky comment about “points” meaning a blow job or something, but instead he just says, “I’m havin’ fun doll.”

“Do you want more tea?” Sam asks you.

“No thanks baby. It’s getting late and I don’t want to drink anymore. It might keep us up.”

“Well,” she starts with some sass, “I’m not tired.”

She turns back to her dolls and then adds, “and I want to keep playing with Bucky. Don’t you think he’s nice?”

Bucky snickers and you lightly smack the back of his head but before you can answer Sam she continues with another addition to Bucky’s lovely attributes.

“And cute?”                                     

You kneel down beside her, smoothing your hands over her cheeks.

“He is nice,” you say.

“And?”

Her sweet voice once again has some sass.

“And cute,” you add with a roll of your eyes.

Bucky’s eyes light up in triumph and you can’t stop your smile.

“It’s late. Let’s get ready for bed.”

Her lip sticks out and her eyes grow wide.

“But I’m sure Bucky can come back and play again soon. And I’ll bet we can get him to read you a story before bed.”

That seems to placate her for the moment, and she says, “we’re going to watch Moana. He pinky promised.”

You turn to Bucky. “You pinky promised?”

He gives you a heart stopping smile.

“Guess we’re watching some Moana before bed,” you concede.

Sam agrees to pajamas and teeth brushing before the movie. The three of you settle onto the couch, Sam in Bucky’s lap and you, at her insistence, next to them. Right next to them. You’re all three crammed into one corner and she allows him to take out the hair ties and barrettes with little fuss if he promises to wear his Barbie necklace and never take it off. Ever.

Bucky agrees steadfastly and Sam beams up at him, resting her head on his chest and reaching for his hand.

He’s solid and warm at your side, and it takes a few minutes to get her settled, but soon she’s snuggled up and rather pleased with herself.

Her hand looks positively tiny in his and you keep blinking down to it, marveling at how much bigger he is than her and how absolutely soft and gentle he’s being.

You try desperately to pay attention to the movie. You love Moana. But it’s hard to follow along amid the internal crisis you’re having over his holding her hand and snuggling with her. It’s not sexy. Not sexy at all.

Some time later, Bucky’s voice breaks into your thoughts: “I think she’s out doll.”

You look over to meet his eyes, and in the low light flickering from the TV he’s all sharp jawline and lush lips. The ends of his dark lashes glow against the screen.

“Is she asleep?” he asks you.

You blink out of your stupor before you understand what he’s asking and lean forward to check. Sure enough, her eyes are closed, her breaths soft and even.

“Yep, out like a light. Nice work.”

“I do make a pretty good bed,” he smirks. “But I’m sure the two slices of pizza and cookies did most of the work.”

“No really, “you whisper. “This whole night…you’re amazing. You waltz in here with dinner and cookies and your dreamboat smile, all sweet and charming. You made this whole thing easy. Well done Barnes.”

“You think I’m charming?” he says, and grins.

The light from the TV accents the way his face softens then he smiles, and you have to look away.

“Is that all you took out of that whole thing” you ask.

“I also got sweet, dreamboat…easy.”

You laugh, rubbing a hand over your face. “Of course you did.”

Bucky chuckles softly and rearranges Sam on his lap.

“But really, this was fun. “Sam is a real cutie, and you know I love hangin’ out with you.”

You swallow and try to make sense of what you’re feeling, wanting to explain it to him.

A beat of silence passes between you, and he looks over at the TV. You know you’ve been quiet too long when he clears his throat and shifts next to you.

The air between you is crackling with charge and you’re finding it difficult to deal.

He leans in and tilts his head to look at you. You shift forward and he’s so close, close enough that you can feel each breath and count the tiny patches of gray hairs that line his cheek. His eyes drop to your mouth and back up and he’s asking if this is okay, giving you time to close the distance or pull away.

You want to kiss him.

It takes the smallest effort on your part before you feel him, the barest brush of his lips, the slight catch in his breath against your own. He smells like the six chocolate chip cookies he ate after dinner, and your mouth nearly waters, imagining how good he’ll taste.

Without thinking you close your eyes and part your lips and…

Sam makes a small sound in her sleep and says your name.

You and Bucky exhale like you’ve been holding your breath, before he sits back, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Am I an awful person that I would have given her a thousand bucks to sleep for ten more minutes?” he asks.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you laugh. “Only ten?”

He stares at you, watching you settle back against the couch. After a few minutes you feel his finger brush absently along your wrist.

You wonder if his fingers itch like yours whenever he’s around, or if he feels the same tug-of-war inside his chest.

Unable to control the nerves firing rapidly inside your brain you make your hand move, keeping your eyes straight ahead and focused on the TV while turning your palm over and twisting your fingers with his.

He tightens his grip.

Sam is softly breathing with her head resting against your shoulder and after only a few moments of hesitation, you feel Bucky do the same.

The weight of him next to you, so strong and warm, feels comfortable and safe, and soon your eyelids droop. You sink farther into the couch and Bucky, falling asleep to the sounds of The Rock singing, “you’re welcome.”

It can’t be too long after when the front door opens. You vaguely hear footsteps and blink several times before you can make out your brother standing in front of you, holding his phone in his outstretched arm.

“What are you…are you taking a picture?” you ask, voice groggy.

“Do you have any idea how cute you two are?” he asks, looking at this phone before turning the screen toward you.

“That’s super-creeptastic bro.”

You feel Bucky stir next to you and he sits up with a start.

“Relax Barnes,” you brother says. “I’m not gonna beat you up for catching you with the babysitter.”

You realize that you and Bucky are still holding hands, and you pull yours away, ignoring the way you can still feel his palm against your own.

“Really creepy,” you say, gently handing over Sam to your brother.

“How was she?” he asks, smoothing her hair.

“An angel, like always. But she might be marrying Bucky. So, there’s that.”

Your brother laughs. “She could do a lot worse,” he says, then motions that he’s going to put her to bed.

You say goodbye and Bucky walks you out to your car. You stand across from each other, pretending that you didn’t just barely kiss and that you weren’t holding hands. Regardless, things feel calm and safe.

It’s dark and you fumble for the door handle, opening the car to set your bag down inside. When you turn, Bucky takes your hand, looking down at the way it fits in his.

“I had a lot of fun doll. Thanks for letting me hang.”

“Are you kidding? This was the best. Thanks for coming.”

It looks like he’s about to ask you something but then thinks better of it and instead leans in to place a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Text me when you get home, yeah?”

“Sure,” you answer.

On impulse, you cup his face and stretch to place the lightest kiss on his warm lips.

Stunned, he just stands there, watching as you step back and fight a smile.

His eyebrows slowly rise.

“Doll, you just kissed me.”

“Only a tiny kiss.” You smile up at him and notice the way his eyes flicker to your lips.

He doesn’t move away and instead takes a small step forward, pushing your back against your car door.

Your hand comes up from your side, moving along his chest and around to grab the back of his neck.

“Doll?”

You pull, stretching at the same time and bringing your mouth just a breath away from his.

“Are you…?”

“Just kiss me?” you whisper.

Your fingers tangle in the hair at the back of his neck and you trail kisses along his jaw, soft and hesitant.

His illusion of restraint shatters and he takes your face in both hands and with a groan, presses his lips against yours. He tilts your head, feeling the clench of your hands in his hair, and steps closer, sliding his hands down your back.

He tugs you as close as possible, lining all your softness up with the hard planes of his body.

When he pulls back he’s breathing heavily and he cradles your face in his hands, softly brushing his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Can I…?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Do you want…?” you whisper at the same time.

He smiles and it’s so sincere, crinkling the corners of his eyes and making you swoon.

“Yeah. Yeah I do doll.”

He kisses you again, his lips lingering before he asks, “my place or yours?”

[jinuaei]

I can offer you an idea of ​​yandere alastor.. What would it be like if alastor as a child knew the reader... Like I imagine alastor as a child not knowing how to act properly like a human, and the reader as a good best friend helping him seems more human (and not because the child reader is scared of him) ... Actually, what would happen?

Wrote this instead of working on my finals hope you enjoyed it!

Yandere! Alastor x Childhood friend! Reader

Warning: Animal death, blood, its YANDERE

WC: ~1.5k

Charlie dragged the whole hotel for another ‘trust’ session, this time, she had the great idea for the sinners to share stories from when they were alive. Granted, some of them were eager to share, namely Nifty and Angel Dust, Husk would share some here or there, although it's mostly due to Charlie and Angel pushing him to. Alastor on the other hand kept quiet during the whole ordeal, until the topic of childhood friends came up.

“I had a childhood friend once, such a sweetheart. Wouldn't leave me alone to play with others!,” Alastor let the statement linger in the air, casually sipping on his coffee. 

The other members of the Hotel look aat him with mouths agape, shocked and surprised at the fact that THE Alastor, Radio Demon, Dealmaker, HAD FRIENDS? Moreover, a childhood friend?? Someone stayed friends with him since they were children???

“Don't look at me like I am incapable of having proper friendships, and no, you cannot ask them about me as a child because they're simply not a sinner! Oh imagine my disappointment when I didn't find them down here,” his eyes glazed over in slight rage as he thought about how you weren't here.

Very disappointing that I will never be able to hold my beloved again. What I would do to be able to chain them to my side once more…

“Well don't leave us hangin’, whose this sweetheart of you’s?,” the white spider interjected.

He tells them your name, sighing dreamily as he starts to reminisce about the times you were together when you were children.

You were the child of one of his momma's clients, a bubbly little thing, always eager to play with him regardless of how cold he is to you. 

His momma was your family's personal tailor, and by God were you a spoiled little thing. Every week you would ask for 2-3 outfits to be created for you, although it looked more like costumes than everyday wear but he doesn't complain, as long as your family treated him and his momma with respect.

Nonetheless, he refuses to be close to you, considering you as a bother, but of course, he would never admit that to you, lest he wants his momma to get in trouble. 

He hasn't always looked forward to when his momma brings him to your house, namely due to you clinging to him every time you meet. There's one thing in your mansion that he’s quite fond of though, once he manages to escape from your grasp, he sneaks into the woods behind your house, gazing at all the wildlife roaming around your property.

One time, he found an injured bird crying close to him, it tried to get away from him but he eventually caught it in a tight grip, it chirped and cried but Alastor just gripped tighter and tighter until, pop! 

Blood trailed down his hands and onto the forest floor below, unbeknownst to him, he had a huge grin on his face, too pleased with the mutilation of the poor bird. A gasp resonates behind him and he quickly drops the bird, face stilling at the fact that he got caught.

When he turned his body to you, your eyes were full of tears staring at his hands that he didn't bother to hide. He prepared himself to hunt you down to make sure you wouldn't tattle on his momma but your next words made him stop in place.

“Are you okay???” you rushed to his side, pulling out a handkerchief and started to wipe off the blood coating his stained hand.

In response, the child looked at you aghast, stupefied at the concern you were showing, marking yourself vulnerable to the predator towering over your much shorter build. He could kill you if he could, he can lie and tell your parents that a bear found both of you and killed you, that he tried to save you but was unable to. But then again… as you fret over him, a thought passes through his mind. 

You are too kind for your own good, just like momma. Don't worry I’ll protect you.

Alastor raises the now somewhat clean hand, and he notes how you didn't even flinch at it, and just looked at him with your wide, innocent eyes. The hand lowers to pat you on the head, ruffling your hair a little bit.

“I am fine, I tried to save a bird but it was too hurt to be saved,” he shows off the bird, face devoid of any emotions.

You frowned at it and suddenly went on your knees and started digging a grave with your hands.

Alastor furrowed his eyebrows and questioned what you were doing, you responded with, “I’m digging a grave for the birdie, I don't want them to die without a proper burial.”

The boy helped you after a few moments of silence. Once you were done, you clasped your hands together, covered in dirt and blood,  silently looking at him to do the same. Look at you, as a child of a rich man you shouldn't be on your knees covering yourself in filth, but perhaps he should indulge his angel for a little bit. 

As you started praying he couldn't help but let the bitterness consume his mind. God wouldn't care about frivolous things like this, prayers do nothing, if it did, how come he and his momma are still at the mercy of that monster of a man he calls his father?

“Amen.”

You offer your filthy hand to him, gazing at him with a smile that could rival the sun. Perhaps the only good thing that God has done, is sending down an angel for him to play with.

“You should smile more, you look very pretty,” he raises an eyebrow at that, startled by your bluntness. Admittedly, he can feel himself flush at your compliment.

“Do you like it when I smile?” he hums, taking your hand. Both of you started to walk back to your manor.

“I do! Mommy always said ‘you’re never fully dressed without a smile’ and that's why I always smile!”

“Then I'll smile a lot for you,” he tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

“You're doing it wrong! It's like this,” you show off your smile, toothy and wide.

He tries again and ultimately fails, you pout at him cutely when he failed, and he couldn't help but smile, genuinely smile at that. In response you shout out ‘like that!’, and start vibrating in excitement that you managed to make him smile.

It was almost nightfall when you eventually managed to get home safely, albeit covered in dirt and grime. What greeted you both were your father, stressed beyond belief, and his mother, on the verge of tears. They both rushed to you guys and hugged the both of you, fretting and scolding at how worried they are, they asked you and Alastor what happened and you, being the loudmouth you are, told them the story that you know.

Both adults are relieved to hear that you both are safe, they rushed you to clean yourselves up. Ever since then, Alastor has been looking forward to every visit they had to your house. And every single visit has been a learning moment for him, day by day he learns what you like and what you don't like. 

You like gentlemen? The next time you meet, he offers you his arm to hold. Do you like poetry? He memorizes your favourite poems to recite whenever you're bored. Do you like food and cooking? He begs his momma to teach him her infamous Jambalaya and other comfort foods to cook for you.

Alastor molded himself to become your ideal man, the most perfect gentleman that ever existed in your life. But then…

“Then what...? But then what??” Angel exclaimed when Alastor trailed off with a cliffhanger. Everyone leaned towards him, captivated by the story he shared. He smiles cryptically, but still doesn't respond.

“Oh well, it seems like it's almost supper time, I should work on it, wouldn't want to be late for dinner hmm?”

Everyone collectively groaned at the cliffhanger, they wanted to know what happened after, but they couldn't complain much lest they want to be part of Alastor's radio broadcast.

Alastor turns away from them, humming to himself as he walks towards where the kitchen is.

But then you had to die as a saint. You had to marry that disgusting excuse of a man you called your husband, and now he killed you. My beloved, was I not enough? Was I not perfect for you? You would have been safe if you were with me… Don't worry, I made sure that ‘husband’ of yours regretted ever hurting you. May this be an offering to my angel.

A haunting scream pierces through hell, amplified by the speakers scattered around the pride ring.

Support me here so I would be more likely to write more fics 🤭

[candy69gurl]

POV: You are Sukuna's Vessel 2

Warnings- private touching

wc- 1.2k

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

You sink onto your bed, your mind racing with thoughts of the future. With Sukuna inside you, you can't help but wonder what will happen next.

"If they find out the truth, they'll never look at me the same way," you think, your heart aching at the thought of losing your friends.

"Maybe I should tell them the truth," you consider, but the idea is quickly shot down.

"No, they'll think I'm crazy or worse, they'll try to exorcise me," you decide, your heart sinking into your stomach.

"I need to figure this out myself," you murmur, your fingers gripping the sheets, trying to come up with a plan.

But as always, Sukuna has something to say on the matter, "Don't bother, little brat. No one can save you from me," he hisses, his voice like poison in your mind.

"Why are you like this?" you question, your voice shaking with anger and fear

"It is what it is," Sukuna answers simply, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"You're a monster," you accuse, your heart pounding in your chest

Sukuna just laughs, a sound that sends a pain through your mind.

With a deep breath, you get up from the bed, your mind still spinning from your encounter with Sukuna.

You walk to the bathroom, feeling a bit of relief as you undress, shedding your clothes and stepping into the shower. The warm water cascades over your body, washing away the tension you've been holding.

"Ah, this feels good," you say, closing your eyes and leaning against the tiled wall.

"Mhm..", a deep voice echoes in your mind, "What a nice body you have."

Your eyes snap open, a gasp escaping your lips as you realize your mistake. Your naked body is now exposed to Sukuna, the realization making your skin crawl.

"Damn it," you curse, your hands hastily covering your most private areas, feeling heat rise to your cheeks

"So innocent," Sukuna snickers, his voice sending shivers down your spine

"Stop it," you demand, your voice trembling with embarrassment and anger.

"You can't make me uncomfortable like this," you continue, trying to assert your control over the situation.

"Oh, I think I can," Sukuna counters, his voice low and taunting.

"I want you out of my head," you hiss, your fists clenching tight with the effort to keep him at bay. "How am I gonna live like this?" you whisper, your voice breaking

"Go ahead, show let me see more of your body", Sukuna taunts,

Your heart races, your breathing growing faster as Sukuna's voice continues to torment you.

"No," you insist, your voice shaking with determination. You refuse to give in to his twisted games.

You quickly turn off the shower, the water disappearing in a rush of steam.

With shaky hands, you reach for a towel, wrapping it around your body. Your heart is pounding in your ears as you try to get dressed in the darkness, with the lights off to keep Sukuna from seeing your naked self anymore.

"Shy, are we?", Sukuna questions, his voice filled with amusement.

"Shut up," you snap, your voice shaky with anger and fear "You're the one who started this," you remind him, your hands balling into fists at your sides.

Sukuna just laughs, the sound echoing in your mind as you try to ignore it and gather your thoughts.

Exhausted and emotionally drained, you climb into bed, pulling the covers over your head in an attempt to block out the world.

You close your eyes, hoping for some semblance of peace, but it's not long before Sukuna's voice creeps back into your mind.

"Sleep well, little brat," he says, his voice a dark rumble in the darkness

"Fuck off," you respond, your voice tinged with anger and exhaustion.

"Good night," Sukuna replies, his voice hollow and cold.

With a frustrated sigh, you try to ignore him and drift off to sleep, hoping for a moment of solace in the darkness.

As you fall asleep, you can't help but wonder how much longer you can keep this secret from your friends. You cling to the hope that you'll find a way to control Sukuna and protect those you care about.

In the middle of the night, without warning, your body twitches beneath the covers.

Sukuna takes control, his consciousness merging with yours as you remain blissfully unaware, still asleep.

"Finally, some peace," Sukuna whispers, his voice dark and devious.

He moves your body, stepping out of your bed and turning on the lights.

"Now let's start with my experiments."

Without hesitation, Sukuna's control over your body quickly strips you bare, your clothes falling to the floor.

He guides you towards the mirror, standing you in front of your naked reflection.

"Well, well, well," Sukuna coos, his voice dripping with amusement. "Look what we have here."

He examines every inch of your body, his gaze lingering on your most private areas, making your skin crawl even though you're still asleep.

"Nice," Sukuna approves, his voice low and taunting.

He continues his inspection, running his hands over your body, tracing your curves and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

"Oh I really look so pretty," he muses, his voice turning thoughtful.

Sukuna, through your body, reaches for your breasts, gently cupping them in his hands.

A jolt of pleasure courses through him, your body arching slightly in response. The sensation is unfamiliar to him.

"Hmm, yes," he hums, his voice low and satisfied. "Feels so good."

With a hint of anticipation, Sukuna pinches your nipples, his touch sending a shock of pleasure through him.

He gasps, his eyes widening in surprise at the intensity of the feeling.

"So sensitive," he mutters, his voice filled with wonder and desire. "This is so much better than I expected."

Sukuna, through your body, moves towards the bed, lying down on it and spreading your legs wide.

His hand slides down your body, his fingers dipping into your wetness, your body trembling slightly at his touch.

"Ah, you get wet this easily?" he asks, his voice husky with excitement "Your body is so pleasurable."

He begins to stroke you, his movements slow and deliberate, his curiosity growing with every stroke.

A wave of pleasure washes over him, the sensation overwhelming him as he explores your body.

"Oh, this is amazing," he breathes, his voice a mixture of surprise and excitement.

"I want more," he says, his voice filled with determination "I need to explore every inch of this body."

He continues his exploration, his fingers sliding deeper, his touch growing bolder with each passing moment.

"Yes, yes, more," he moans, his voice filled with desire. "I could spend hours on this."

Sukuna's touch becomes more insistent, his fingers moving faster, your body responding to his ministrations even in your sleep.

"Shit this pussy's getting wetter," he muses, his fingers dipping deeper, his touch growing more demanding.

A wave of pleasure crashes over him, his orgasm pulsing through your body, your inner muscles tightening around his fingers.

"Fuck!" he groans, his voice filled with satisfaction "That point.. S-shit.. So tight, so good", he moans thrusting his fingers attacking your weak point.

Soon an orgasm surges through the body, his breathing ragged as he pulls his fingers from your body, leaving you slick and aching.

"That was... amazing," he says, his voice tinged with awe, "I can't wait to do this again," he promises, his voice filled with anticipation

With a final caress, he lies down, your body still trembling from the experience.

"Rest now, vessel."

As Sukuna relinquishes control, you slip back into a fitful sleep, your body still humming with the aftermath of his pleasure.

[6gumi]

no second thoughts.

synopsis ﹒if your big brother doesn’t care enough about you . . then why not bang his friend to make him care ! ?

pairings ﹒ step brother!alhaitham x fem!reader x big brother’s best friend!kaveh (modern au me thinks)

cw ﹒suggestive (a little long n rushed). TW: stepcest ! read at your own risk. not proofread (so sorry if it doesn’t make sense on some parts oopsies) this is all consensual. meanie ! al haitham aaa, t!tplay, use of petnames (princess, baby, etc) al haitham is a meanie lowk, al haitham is a lil rough w u :((, a lil degrading, dirty talk !

note ﹒aaa aaa AAAA thinkin’ sm.. thinkin’ sm.. the demons won me over once again fellas . . i’ve lost another battle sighsssss . . i had 2 rewrite sm times cuz i didn’t like how it went n all that aaa ALSO ! i made the texts smaller cuz this is soooo long 🥹 + i’m lowk proud of how this one turned out so reblogs appreciated ! requests are still closed so i will only accept thirsts if u wanna send in some, or u can just interact w me ! — millie ♡

you’ve tried all methods to get al haitham to notice you at-least . . why didn’t any of those methods work anyways ?! you both agreed to have this . . secret relationship with each other, and do very “secret” things no one could no about, at least that’s what he said. you knew it was wrong, he might’ve too.. but you both really couldn’t control your undying lust for each other like this, especially if you both lived in the same house and saw each other everyday. this was wrong, it was . . but you two weren’t blood related so it’s fine, he says. but still, it still felt wrong whenever al haitham was bullying his huge cock into your cunt, whispering that you could take him just fine. in other words, your relationship with al haitham is a hassle to understand and comprehend. it felt wrong but . . you both never delved into it too much. he was being so nice and sweet to you a few weeks ago, what happened to that? why was he suddenly being so cold?

you didn’t understand it at all, you just wanted to be close with him. could he . . . have been all nice with you just to make you dependent on him? you didn’t know.

poor poor you . . you need his attention nearly half of the time! you craved it even! you began to debate about what he said, sure yeah . . you were his precious little sister and he wouldn’t dare let anyone else touch you. you can’t help it, you just need his attention . . but how come he’s always treating you this way? why was he treating you like someone lower than he is? it’s not fair.. it wasn’t fair. you tried your hardest to get his attention these past few days and weeks, walking around the house with only his shirt clinging onto your figure with none of your undergarments present.. your nipples poking out of your shirt while you hummed and walked around, bare underneath for al haitham to see. you only wanted him to notice you, you wanted him to give you the attention you needed. you’d even let him fuck you raw on the kitchen counter if that’s what he wanted! but yet, none of those methods have worked on him . . .

you were in your room, sobbing against the softness of your pillow as your lips were formed in a small pout . . you hated being ignored, especially if it’s by al haitham. you laid there with cheek pressed up against the pillow, one leg over your blanket. the only thing that could be heard from your room are faint sobs and cries, tears pouring down your cheeks.

then, you heard your door creak open.

glancing over your shoulder, your eyes widened before sitting up properly, wiping your sweet tears off your face. “al haitham!” you spoke, grinning as he made his way over to you. “what’s up with you?” he says, his voice was nonchalant as always. “i could hear you all the way from my room.” you could feel your smile fading from his coldness towards you. ah, he’s still the same. you wiped your tears before crawling closer to him, clinging onto his arm as you rested on his bicep. ‘i just want your attention’ is what you wanted to say, but no.. you couldn’t. you would never admit that to him no matter how much you wanted to. you tugged on his arm with a little hum, looking up at him. “i . . it’s nothing, really. i’m alright.”

he hummed, glancing down at you before cocking a brow . . his expression still blank as he opened his mouth to speak, words that you never expected to hear. but wanted to. “wanna fuck?”

you sniffled, wiping your tears one last time before you stared at him, blinking at his words. “. . huh?”

“i said, wanna fuck?” he spoke again. “maybe that’ll make you feel better, yeah? c’mere baby.”

—

and there you were, face planted down against the pillow you were crying on earlier before . . loud sounds of skin slapping against each other was one of the only things you could hear, his balls slapped against your ass as his large hands had such a death grip on your hips, he was rough . . you had to admit. but yet, you kept thinking to yourself . . you wanted comfort, you needed al haitham’s comfort. you didn’t need this but you accepted anyway. choked moans were left muffled as your head was further pushed down against the bed, al haitham’s thrusts grew more rougher and deeper as the minutes passed . . it was clear to you that he had no intention of comforting you at all. no . . he was only using you for pleasure at this rate. “mmh . . you like this, huh? you like when your brother fucks you hard to relieve your stress, isn’t that right?” he whispered in your ear, inhaling the scent of your hair as his other hand reached down to rub your clit in a circular motion, licking his lips as he down on the blade of your shoulder. “fuck . . you’re such a sweet girl, are you? taking your brother’s cock like it’s nothing. taking it like the good slut you are.” he flipped your body over to face him, grabbing your knees as he forcefully pressed them down against your chest, squishing your breasts as your eyes rolled back to the back of your head, tongue lolling out in pleasure while his thrusts quickened, you were sure he was gonna break you at this rate. “naughty girl . . look at you, letting your brother fuck you as he pleases.”

this new position allowed al haitham to access more of your deepest areas, areas you never knew could even be explored by his cock! you whined as you felt his hands on your cheeks, pressing them together. “tell me, why were you crying earlier?” he brought his hand down from your face, pressing them down against the bulge on your stomach as he could feel himself going in and out of your slick pussy. “i-i just..” you whimpered, trying to ignore how good his cock felt pounding into you like that. swallowing the lump in your throat, you finally spoke up once again. “you.. ah— you’re being so cold to me lately, al haitham . . it’s making mmh! me think otherwise of our relationship, i don’t wanna . . keep going on like this with you if you’re hah!— gonna treat me like i’m nothing to you” you admit. you were half expecting him to kiss you and pamper you all over, but that all changed when you could feel his thrusts quickie even more. god.. you had to admit, his stamina was insane. “so you want me to act differently towards you? is that what you’re implying?”

“mmn.. if it means you stop being so cold to me, then yes . . that’s exactly what i’m asking fo— ah!” he pinched your nipples, shutting you up completely . . all that left his mouth were low chuckles. “i’m not being cold to you, i’m just acting like my usual self. if you expected me to kiss you, spoil you and pamper you whenever and wherever you please, you’re simply mistaken.” he gave your ass a light slap at that, before you cut him off. “but— hah! it’s not fair, al haitham . . why are you treating me like i’m nothing? i don’t get how you can just— hng . . fuck me and act like you don’t know me the day afterwards!” you could feel the tension in the air, and in his thrusts as he flipped you over again, immediately shoving his cock back in your pussy with a loud slap. “and i don’t get how you can’t shut the fuck up.” he grabbed a fistful of your hair, threading his fingers through your locks as he pulled you towards his chest as his cock proceeded to ram itself into you roughly, sweat trailing down your body while putting a hand over your mouth. “maybe i could shut you up if i breed this little pussy to the brim, huh? do you want me to do that? fill you up with my cum?” your eyes widened, as much as you loved your brother . . you didn’t want him doing anything as far as breeding you and filling you up, let alone . . getting you pregnant. “do i have to fuck my cum into you to get you to shut up? make you stop questioning my methods of caring for you?” he didn’t care about you like you cared about him. you knew that. so why was he even . .

his thrusts were starting to be more rougher and harsh now, but not enough to hurt you. “don’t you love your big brother, [name]? you love him right? why are you questioning his way of showing he cares for you, huh?” he whispered in your ear. your back arched at his words, you could almost feel just how tight your cunt was sucking him in at this rate. “you don’t want me to leave you don’t you? leave you in the streets with nothing but a pretty pussy for anyone to fuck, you don’t want anyone else’s dick in this slutty cunt now, do you?”

that’s the thing. you didn’t want him to leave you.

you shook your head furiously at the thought of him coming inside of you and leaving you in the streets for another person to take, you tried to tell him you didn’t want that but his hand only tightened around your mouth. “good, then don’t bother questioning about any of my acts of care for you. you know i love you, so just be a good girl and take my cock whenever and wherever i want, yeah? be a good little slut and don’t question your brother’s can you do that for me?” he was only saying that to put you over the edge and cling onto him more . . but did you realize that? not really. you sobbed as you nodded, trying to endure the soreness of your back and lower half when he released your hair, pulling out of your drenched pussy as he came all over your ass, stroking cock at an awfully fast pace . . your face scrunched as you could even feel some of his essence leaking from your ass and down to your bedsheets you cleaned earlier. “there, feel better now?” he asked. ‘no, i don’t.’ was what you wanted to say, but you held your tongue . . you were too exhausted to protest anyways.

—

your body was sore, you needed al haitham’s comfort and his attention . . but he was oblivious and never gave you what you truly wanted, you were getting tired of how his automatic response to comforting you is by fucking you into oblivion, you cursed at yourself for liking it . . you cursed yourself for even enjoying the way his cock pushes itself deep inside your velvet walls, you hated how you hated it, his methods to be exact. he was comforting you right? that’s what he told you, he was only making you feel better and this is his only way of comforting you, right? no. you knew this was another one of his tactics, and you always hated these tactics . . no matter how much you wanted to snap at him for disregarding your feelings and you as a whole, you couldn’t. he always found ways convincing you what he was doing was right when it wasn’t.

it has been awhile since that last session you both had, and yet again . . he began to ignore you once more. you knew it was coming but it infuriates you how much he doesn’t care about you as much as you care about him. so . . you tried something. when al haitham left the house one day, you managed to invite his friend, kaveh over. kaveh himself surprisingly knew of al haitham’s way of thinking since he was friends with him long before he met you, so it only made sense that he gave you advice and asked you if his behaviour improved. you were sitting on your bed, sniffling as kaveh had a hand on your shoulder. the blonde was much more nicer and gentler with you than al haitham was, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief whenever al haitham himself brought kaveh over after hanging out with him. you felt more comfortable and safe with your big brother’s best friend more than you could ever imagine. “you okay now, princess? i’m sorry he’s acting this way towards you but it’s just how he is, you can’t just magically stop someone from acting how they usually act, you get me?” his soft voice.. his reassurance. kaveh was your own personal safe haven.

as safe as you felt with kaveh, kaveh never knew or even found out about your dirty little secret and relationship you had with al haitham, not like you wanted him to know. the blonde only thought of this as friendly sibling feud, al haitham being nonchalant towards his doting little sister while you’re over here trying to get him to treat you properly as his sibling by asking his friend for some advice! oh . . he could have never been so wrong, it was more than that. but yet .. who knows if he ever found out one day? will he . . leave you? you knew it was wrong to even act like this towards your own step brother, but you two weren’t blood related so . . maybe he would be a bit weirded out but— no! you couldn’t bare to have kaveh leave you, not when he’s your only source of comfort. you wouldn’t dare to even tell him anything about you and al haitham’s dirty relationship with each other . . you wouldn’t dare.

“maybe we can try a different method . . ? i don’t know.” you mumbled, leaning closer against him. kaveh could feel himself scoot a little to give you more space and to prevent himself from getting too into your personal space. “maybe we could . . do it?” you suggested, earning a choked cough from the blonde. “i— what? are you implying what i think you are?” he wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly . . but he thought about it. it’s risky, yes . . but will it really work? sure, he thought you were sweet and only viewed you as his friends little sister but. . was this really right? “yeah . . i’m suggesting that we should do it.”

“princess are you sure? you don’t have to force yourself to do it just because you want him to notice you, it’s risky . .” kaveh whispered that last line under his breath, patting your shoulder. “he’s definitely gonna kill us, angel. are you really really sure you wanna risk it just to get his dumb head going?” without warning, you caught your lips with his as you put a hand on his thigh, lifting yourself up gently as you kissed him with passion. well . . that answered his question pretty quickly. you wanted this alright, and you were showing him exactly how much you wanted it. in a blink of an eye, you were pinned down against the soft sheets of your bed, kaveh’s hands slowly trailed up your flesh. the architect gazed up at you with those pretty eyes of his, pretty eyes you wanted to be on you forever. “you’re positive right, gorgeous? you want me to touch you? no second thoughts?” “no second thoughts.”

that was kaveh’s green light.

a kind smile spread across kaveh’s face at your green light. it seemed you really were an impatient girl. "you’re a naughty girl, aren’t you gorgeous? my little naughty girl." the blonde male chuckled before he leaned and kissed your neck slowly and sensually, slipping his hands inside your shirt as he cupped your tits while pulling at your nipple, your body needed this contact . . your body needed someone to touch it and kaveh will gladly be that person to fulfill its wishes. “naughty naughty girl you are, mhm?” he coos as his lips gently traced your skin, leaving a trail of tingles on your neck. “mhm.. get on with it already kaveh, ‘want you to fuck me now.” a chuckle rumbled in his chest with satisfaction, knowing he had won. "and who am i to deny this princess’ request?" you could almost sense the lust in his voice, his tone still full of seduction almost as the hand he had on your cheek gently slid down towards your neck, slowly rubbing it as his lips moved downwards, lifting up your shirt. kaveh was skilled with his mouth, you knew that. your body jolted as you could feel his mouth attach itself onto your long neglected nipple, placing soft kisses on the spot his hand was, sending shivers down your spine. kaveh’s tongue worked wonders on your nipples, his other two fingers tugging and rubbing at the other.

your breath hitched feeling the tips of kaveh’s fingers running along your plushy thighs, lifting your skirt up all the way to your stomach, pushing your underwear aside as he rubbed the slit of your pussy with two fingers, feeling your wetness on his fingers. “you’re awfully wet. you really do get all riled up way too quick, princess.” his eyes couldn’t help but wander seeing how hard your nipples gotten from his sucking and fondling. his mouth caged around your hardened nipple once more, forcing an angelic whine to leave your pretty lips. he loved the noises you made, especially if he was the one making you feel good. the blonde architect kept this up, suckling on your tits like there’s no tomorrow while his other hand toyed with the other breast. he hummed softly before letting his slender digits enter your pretty pussy, adding another finger almost immediately afterwards. “you want me to fuck you just as good as anyone else has, gorgeous?” he rubbed your fingers in a circular motion. he knew you were at his mercy, and he loved every second of it . . your moans, you little whines, your jolts and slight flinches to his touch, he loved them too.

although . .

i don’t think the person peeking through the gap of the door would think otherwise anyway.

[lxndonorris]

wearing his clothes - Charles Leclerc

Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smutish Charles catches you wearing his clothes, and he needs to put in some work to get it back x word count: 1900 taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :)

In the soft glow of the bedroom, you open the closet, looking at a display of your boyfriend's clothes. Charles owns so many pretty clothes, but one item in particular caught your attention once he brought it back from his latest photoshoot.

A beautiful black leather jacket, slim fit, tight—just the way he and you like it. Charles sent you the pictures right after the shoot, but seeing him actually wear those clothes blew your mind.

Right now, he is busy getting ready for a boy's night out with his closest friends. You saw him through the open door, running his fingers through his hair and styling it—a beautiful sight. You assume, as much as he loves that jacket, that he wants to wear it tonight.

At the same time, you know how much he loves seeing you wearing his clothes, and you want to use that to your advantage by teasing him a little and putting him in the right mood for today.

Looking through his closet, you find a few gorgeous jackets and designer clothes, and all of them tickle your fancy. However, that leather jacket is what you need.

"There you are." You carefully take it out of the closet and look at it. What a beautiful piece of clothing!

Just then, you hear his voice echo through the hallway. "Y/N? Have you seen my rings?" Charles exclaimed.

With a coy smile, you drape his leather jacket over your shoulders and slip inside, one arm at a time, savoring your boyfriend's familiar scent that envelopes you. The supple material embraces you, carrying his scent like a secret promise.

You catch a glimpse of yourself inside the mirror, his jacket hanging just right, accentuating the contours of your figure. The soft hum of anticipation fills the room as you hear footsteps approaching. Turning around to watch the doorhandle move, the jacket sets comfortably against your skin.

The door eases open, revealing him, his hair nicely done, his sweater, pants, and shoes flattering his well-formed physique perfectly.

"Y/N. I found the rings." Charles soft voice fills the room when his gaze falls upon you. Instantly, his eyes widen with surprise, and a grin forms on his lips. "Oh, hello." He says, casually leaning with one arm against the doorframe, as your focus shifts to the bulging biceps barely hidden underneath the fabric of his sweater.

"Hey." You lift your chin slightly and raise both of your eyebrows. His jacket makes you feel so comfortable, tough even. Running a hand through your hair, you strike a little pose, holding on to the jacket, when you catch him biting his lower lip.

"Well, aren't you a sight?" Charles remarks, his eyes lingering on the way the jacket clings to you.

You can't resist a mischievous smile, wearing that jacket like a trophy. "Thanks, babé." You tilt your head teasingly, enjoying how much his gaze devours all of you.

Charles licks his lips as his eyes linger on your chest, and subconsciously, he places a hand at his pecs and strokes himself before letting it run down his entire chest.

"That looks better on you than it does on me." He teased his voice, carrying a mischievous tone.

You feel a flush of warmth as his admiration becomes palpable. He closes the distance, his fingers tracing the edge of the jacket, and the touch a gentle caress.

"You really make it look so much better than I ever could." He admits that his voice low and appreciative.

The tension rises between the two of you as he moves even closer. The faint scent of his cologne grows stronger once he leans in to you, his soft lips barely brushing over your cheeks before he lets out a deep breath.

"Fuck. You're so hot." Charles' hands wander down to your waist, securely holding you in place. A spark of electricity rushes through your veins as you open your mouth, letting out a breathless sigh.

"Charles." You mouth, placing a hand at his firm chest, tracing the tangible outlines of his pecs through his tight clothes.

He breathes down your neck, surely holding back a low moan himself. "Y/N." Charles whispers, and you lean your head back in response.

"How about a trade?" You propose, gently stroking his chest. His muscles are tensing slightly, getting harder by the second.

He slowly separates himself, just enough for you to still feel his warmth against your cheek. "What do you have in mind?" Charles chuckles under his breath, both of his hands still at your waist, stroking you with his thumbs.

You lean in, steadying yourself against his frame with both of your hands. "A kiss for your favorite jacket?" Teasingly, you meet his burning gaze.

At the sound of your words, a mischievous smirk forms in the corner of his lips."

Y/N." He frowns. "I cannot decline that offer."

His eyes sparkle with a mixture of amusement and desire, and without hesitation, he closes the distance between you. The warmth of his lips meets yours in a sweet exchange, sealing the deal.

Once or twice, you kiss each other, embracing each other again and again. The tension engulfs both of you as you move even closer. His hands run along your waist, resting and caressing your butt, while yours run down his chest, feeling his toned body tense underneath his sweater.

But you won't stop there yet. In the heat of the moment, you cannot help but run a hand to his crotch, feeling his desire building up, forming a tangible bulge inside his pants.

He flinches once you touch and feel him, encouraging him to rock his hips against the palm of your hand.

"Mhmmm." Charles purrs right into your mouth as you close your eyes, fully embracing this moment.

"You like that, huh?" You tease once again and lean your head back, enjoying the smug grin spreading across his entire face. He narrows his eyes and lifts his chin as well, while you keep on teasing him with your fingers.

There is no need for more words. Both of you know that he's into that, enjoying you making the first move. Charles just shakes his head in amusement, a bright smile on his lips.

"You're one to talk." He says it with a playful tone.

Before you can react, however, he easily picks you up.

"Charles." You giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Both of you giggle now as he carries you toward the bed. You hold on tight, hugging him with your arms and legs.

Gently, he puts you down on the soft mattress before he climbs on top of you, his body towering over yours.

"You're enjoying that, huh?" Charles smirks, his accent coming through a little.

Your eyes wander to his necklace, now hanging in the air just inches above your chest. The two of you are breathing quickly, barely able to catch your breath.

Nodding, you embrace him once he bends down, kissing you again and again while grinding his hips against your thighs.

Your whole body tingles in excitement, but you tilt your head to breathe deeply.

"Fuck. Charles." You let out a low groan when he starts placing kisses all over your neck.

Then, however, he stops.

"I need to go now." Charles places a hand at your neck, tracing your jawline with his fingers, before caressing your cheeks lovingly.

"I know." You lean into his soft touch, feeling his cold rings on your skin.

He helps you off the bed, reaching for your hand.

Lovingly, Charles starts to undress you, one arm at a time, you let go of his leather jacket. You enjoy feeling his hands run all over your upper body. Naturally, he uses this to his advantage, touching you and your boobs gently as well.

Giggling, you turn around, and your eyes meet again. This time, it is more playful, yet you're longing for his gentle touch, his warm embrace, and his lips on yours. Your heart is still racing, and you know he is feeling the same. Charles keeps on touching himself, stroking his chest, his tummy, and his bulge multiple times.

With a grin, he slips into the jacket that had just adorned me moments before. The material molds to his frame, accentuating his broad shoulders and making him look effortlessly good. You watch with a mix of curiosity and delight as he adjusts the collar, clearly enjoying the familiar comfort.

Charles then turns to you, a playful glint in his eyes. "How do I look?" He asks, striking the same pose as in the photoshoot.

Of course, he knows how well he looks. His strong yet slim frame looks so good as he strokes his chest through the fabric of his jacket. All of his clothes flatter him perfectly, but his pants are now unable to hide his desire.

A chuckle escapes you. "Surprisingly good, considering it's my turn to admire now." You reply, appreciating the sight of him wearing the jacket with a newfound allure.

He walks toward you, a swagger in his step, and wraps his arms around you, the jacket providing another layer of warmth. The scent lingers in your nose, making you lick your lips once.

"Maybe you should borrow it more often." He suggests, his lips curving into a charming smile.

You kiss him softly before he pulls away once more, walking over to the mirror, admiring his own reflection.

He runs a hand through his groomed beard, seemingly enjoying himself. When you catch him touching himself, his bulge firmly.

"We should finish that later." You raise your eyebrows again.

Curiously, he turns around, one hand still on his length and the other stroking his own chest.

"Oh, that sounds so good." His accent is still present as his rough voice fills the air all around you.

A soft smile plays on your lips as you take in the way he carries himself, the jacket adding a touch of rugged charm to his appearance. The dim light in the room cast a subtle glow on his features, emphasizing the allure of the moment.

Lost in admiration, you meet his eyes and whisper, "You look incredible in that jacket," letting the unspoken tension linger in the air.

The exchange of glances speaks volumes—a silent acknowledgement of the attraction that went beyond the fabric of the jacket, creating a connection that feels both intimate and exhilarating.

Charles closes the distance again, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a kiss followed by a warm, tight hug.

As he prepares to leave for the night, the air between you holds a subtle tension—a mix of longing and anticipation. He adjusts the jacket one last time, a confident smile on his lips.

You stand there, watching him with a longing gaze, wishing he would just stay now so you could extend this moment of intimacy.

Your eyes meet, and in that moment of lingering intensity, words seem unnecessary. The exchanged glances convey a myriad of emotions—affection, desire, and a touch of playfulness.

"I love you." Charles says softly, kissing you again.

"I love you too." You trace his jawline with two fingers, enjoying how his stubble tickles your skin. "Enjoy yourself, will you?" Patting his chest gently, you paint a coy smile on his lips.

With one last longing look, he leaves for the night.

[syoounn]

✿Reminds me of you~

•Giving your husband some flowers~

•Characters: Dazai, Fyodor

Part 1

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✿ Dazai

Seeing your husband at home means that he skipped his work again, and his reason..? to cuddle with you. You sigh seeing him being lying at the floor and calling your name.

You just got home after your friend invited you to their garden to harvest. Luckily, you spotted some white lilies as your friend let you take some. You wanted to give some surprise to your husband before he gets home but know... You saw him lying down at the floor and getting clingy again.

Once he saw you he immediately cling to you.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

“Ughmm, well I was..” he mumbles into your shoulder, “and then I just decided..I’d rather be here..with youuu…”

You just sigh.. as you spoke. "Hm.. i guess... but you can't keep doing that.."

“Aww, but I want to spend time with youuu…” he whines, lifting his head to glare at you playfully and give you his puppy dog eyes.

"Fine just this once okay?"

He nodded as he finally let go and looking at you with his loving eyes.

"Oh.. i have something to give you..

He tilts his head and turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised and his ears perking up curiously. “You do?”

You nodded.. and gave him fresh picked white lilies as it was wrapped with a ribbon

“You..you got me white lilies..?”He blinks, his eyes widening more as he fully takes in how vibrant and the white color of the petals are. He reaches out to touch them, his fingertips hesitantly brushing along the petals as he stares at them in awe.

"Thank you belladonna, They're beautiful as you~" He said as he gave you a kiss and keep clinging to you.

A small blush appeared in your face as he

you can on his face that he truly appreciate it, although he's not much a flower person.

What he gave you in return was full of cuddles and kisses on a whole day... perhaps him skipping at work is not that bad after all.

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✿ Fyodor

You and your husband rarely gift eachother as most of the time both of you are more fonded into quality time. You decided to give him something that men rarely receive. That's right.. flowers.

You picked the flower the most you reminded of him, and you just have to wait for him to be surprised. You can't wait to see his reaction.

As his footsteps echo off the walls as he heads towards you, arms outstretched and beaming with what seems like genuine affection, as you hugged him.

"Oh, you truly missed me, didn't you, dear?" He reaches you and wraps you up in a tight embrace and kissed your forehead. You nodded as you giggled excitedly.

"I have something to give you.." You said.

Fyodor tilts his head, purple eyes now scrutinising you. "Oh, you have something for me? What might that be, my dear?"

You giggled again as you spoke "Wait for me okay?"

You rushed through bedroom and came back holding a boquet of red and white carnation.

His gaze softens as he notices the bouquet in your hands, and he gently accepts it from you. He hums in appreciation of its rich aroma, and there's a slight smile on his lips. He looks at you for a little while longer, and the smile becomes more prominent.

"You are an exceptionally loving wife, my dear."

Fyodor's hands curl around the bouquet, and he brings a small flower up to his lips, smiling. "You know.. your affection never fails to move me, i might have to return the favour. A token of my affection, to remind you just how much you mean to me..."

He gently grabs your waist, pulls you close and whispers against your ear. "I'll make you feel good tonight.."

With that both of you shared your love to eachother that night.

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[thenameswinterfics]

HEARTS OF STEEL, LOVE OF SILK

Fandom: The Last Kingdom Pairing: Sihtric x Reader Settings: Season 5, episode 1 Summary: While you and your children enjoy a peaceful, domestic life in Rumcofa, Sihtric comes up with a pleasant surprise for you. Word Count: 3,9 K Warnings: Fluff, domestic fluff, smut, bad smut, very very bad smut, p in v sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, Daddy Sihtric is a warning itself. A/N: This fic was totally unplanned at first. It came out after a month and half of writing's block. I have planned no outline, no general guidelines, so sorry if you see a messy writing and some rushed parts. This is my first time writing smut, so I apologise if you'll find some horrors inside. This is a birthday present for my beloved @foxyanon . Hope you like it. If you're not, as I told you, you're free to cancel me. A special thanks to @zaldritzosrose , @legitalicat and @sylasthegrim for being a continuous inspiration and helping me with the fic, especially for the last part.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header & dividers by @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3

Winter came to Rumcofa in the blink of an eye, even faster than you could have imagined, unlike the village you once called home. However, you would be lying if you said that the cold season brought nothing but atmospheric surroundings. The white, soft snow covered part of the village streets all the way to the wooden dock, the frost clinging to the planks like delicate lace. The trees had been stripped of their leaves, but their bare branches were adorned with pure white, along with some water plants sprouting along the sides of the dock. The harsh temperatures didn't stop the merchants from coming and going as they reached the village by boat, some even staying the night and enjoying the evening bustle of the alehouse, warming their bodies with a hot meal and ale.

You didn't mind walking the streets at this time of year, the hustle and bustle of the village warming the air with a pleasant buzz. But there were days like this when you simply basked in the warmth of your home, a modest but cosy hut that provided a safe nest from the biting cold outside.

Signe, your daughter, was content to sit on your lap, her legs swinging happily and her eyelids half closed as you ran the palm of your hand through her silky hair, your bone comb gently untangling a few pesky knots. A soft hum escaped your lips, a soothing melody accompanied by the crackle of the fire, as your eyes wandered to your two youngest twins, Kare and Kore, playing peacefully on the warm fur on the floor, with a few wooden toys scattered about.

A buzz of voices outside caught your attention, a deep male voice followed by two shrill ones. And as the door of your hut swung open, you recognised the voices of your husband, Sihtric, followed by your first and third sons, Hindr and Ivar, the latter hoisted onto his father's broad shoulder. You saw the twins raise their heads, run to their father and cling to his shirt, tugging at it as Sihtric's free hand roamed over their small heads, playfully ruffling their hair with a wide grin on his face.

Years had passed, and Sihtric had become one of Uhtred's most trusted allies and friends, and a formidable warrior, earning him the nickname, along with Finan and Osferth, of "Uhtred's Pretty Boys". Yet despite his newfound confidence, you could see in his gaze the same shy warrior you had met many years ago in Coccham, on one of your usual stops on your lonely journeys. You were a warrior not bound to any lord, and Sihtric had been sworn under Uhtred's protection some years ago.

You could remember all the stolen glances you shared that night in the alehouse, and how he looked away quickly when he met your eyes, the flush in his cheeks visible in the dim light. It took some time for you to get to know him better, and at first you thought the Dane didn't enjoy your company, for he fled at the first opportunity.

But Sihtric loved you, of course he did. A love so fierce and sincere that it would move even the hardest of the gods. And because he loved you so much, he feared to disappoint you: he was born a bastard, with nothing to give you in return but his skill with the sword. It was not until you joined Uhtred's warriors a few months later that you got to know each other well, and the spark of love exploded like a fire in the middle of the forest. After a short courtship, Sihtric asked his lord for permission to marry you, and he eagerly agreed.

The gods blessed your union with the arrival of your first child, a boy you both named Hindr. Three years later, your union was blessed again with the arrival of Signe, who Sihtric affectionately called "my little princess". While you loved your two children dearly, you both agreed that there was room in your love nest for one more, and a few years later Ivar was born. 

Your fourth pregnancy came as a surprise, as neither of you had planned to welcome another child into your family. Sihtric was reluctantly forced to leave his family to follow Uhtred in his attempt to retake Bebbanburg, and while he was busy defending the borders of Mercia, you gave birth alone, bringing two healthy twins into the world. You were reunited after the Siege of Winchester, and after shedding tears of joy for his children, he vowed to be a more present father and husband and make up for lost time.

"Let me come with you, Papa!" was the whining voice of Hindr, tugging at his father's sleeve to get his attention. The Dane lowered Ivar to the ground, and after he both kissed his sons' foreheads, he bent over his firstborn.

"It's still too dangerous for you, Hindr," Sihtric chided in a calm but firm tone, his calloused fingers stroking the child's cheek and chuckling at his son's little pout. "One day you will join me. I promise you." He finished, kissing the top of his head.

Then he rose and approached you and Signe by the fire. As soon as he was in your presence, he bent over you, holding two small flowers in one of his hands.

"One for my little princess," the Dane said softly, placing one of the flowers in his daughter's hand and gently pressing his lips to her forehead, to which Signe responded with a shy, silent nod. "And one for my queen," he added, leaning his face over yours and sealing your lips with a tender and lingering kiss. You closed your eyes, savouring the moment as a pleasant and familiar warmth spread through your chest. It had been a long time since you and Sihtric had shared an act of intimacy, and caring for five children took time away from even a brief kiss.

But the time was up, and soon you were forced to break the kiss and watch as Sihtric hurriedly took his sword. "Are you leaving already?" you asked, a hint of disappointment in your voice. Sihtric looked over at you as he took one of the twins in his arms.

"The Blood Month, my love," the Dane said, content to be surrounded by his wife and children, "Our boy Aethelstan is ready for his first hunt and we will join him.”

You hummed in understanding, your body mechanically combing Signe's hair while your mind was elsewhere. You loved your children, they all had your blood and Sihtric's running through their veins. But you were a warrior before you were a mother, and the time you spent on the battlefield with your husband was a distant memory. But Sihtric seemed to sense your discomfort, and he approached you once more before putting Kore down. 

"I swear we will celebrate the next Blood Month together, my love," the Dane reassured you in a soothing voice and gave you a final kiss before saying goodbye to his children one by one. Before leaving the hut, he stroked Hindr's hair once more. "Protect your Mama and siblings while I'm gone, little warrior."

"As if his mother could not protect herself," you scolded playfully, rolling your eyes dramatically. Sihtric replied with a loud chuckle, his eyes sparkling with affection as he crossed the threshold of the door.

"I know you can, my fierce shield maiden," he replied with a grin, closing the door behind him.

You quickened your pace as you reached the alehouse, holding the twin's small hands in yours. Sihtric followed ahead of you, a small axe taken from Hindr sheathed in his leather belt, as he watched his three eldest children run through the building. 

The hunt had gone well, except for one unforeseen event that no one had anticipated. Sihtric told you how Aethelstan had been attacked by three men, but had somehow managed to kill one and survive almost unharmed. It was not a boar they had sacrificed, but at least the Blood Month tradition was somehow expected. But it was the unexpected arrival of Eadith that took everyone by surprise: Uhtred and his men knew she had left after the events in Mercia and Winchester, but no one expected her to pay a sudden visit to Rumcofa.

The alehouse was warm, the flickering fire of candles dancing through the tables and casting a cosy glow on the wooden walls. The aroma of ale filled the air, the clatter of mugs and the cheerful chatter and laughter of the men adding to the convivial atmosphere. 

With each mug of ale in hand, the whole group stood still and circled around Eadith as she told them the stories of how she had come to Frankia and how she had learned and honed her skills as a healer. As the conversation continued, you could see the surprise in the redhead's eyes when she recognised Aethelstan among the men, and you couldn't blame her. 

You remember how King Edward's bastard son was taken under Uhtred's protection and raised among you: the child knew nothing of the dangers of the world, spending his early years in a monastery, his cocoon shielded from the outside world. Most of the time he ended up in your and Sihtric's care, and together with Cynlaef you raised them as your sons, the boys calling your own their little siblings. But now they were grown men, and you looked at them with pride and emotion: you and Sihtric still had your own children to love and cherish, but you would be lying if you said you missed those moments.

"This is Sihtric's wife," Uhtred said to Eadith, pointing to you with the mug in his hands, "and all of her and Sihtric's little pack that populate this town."

"Five children can hardly populate Rumcofa, Uhtred," you replied with a smile, your fingers gently stroking Signe's hair.

"Perhaps the gods will be on our side and bless our union again," Sihtric added, his hand slipping from your shoulder to your flat stomach. It was no secret that you both longed for another child, but you both knew that you were not the young and fresh couple you once were, and your ageing bodies made that dream distant and uncertain. 

"Perhaps you should ask your gods for a little nudge," Finan snorted lightly, holding Ingrith by the waist and your son Kare in his arms. In the midst of the laughter, you could see Finan and Sihtric exchanging a knowing look that surprised you, but did not carry much weight.

The conversation continued until sundown, when the sun set, giving way to the moon, and the orange of the sky was replaced by a deep blue dotted with stars.

As you entered your hut, you threw your cloak and boots onto the nearest chair, tossed your hair aside and tried to undo the laces of your dress. Sihtric was the last to enter, closing the door behind him, unbuckling his belt and placing his weapons against the nearest wall. 

When you turned to look at him, you noticed that something was wrong: everything was quiet, too quiet for a family with five children. You would expect chaos after a day at the alehouse, your husband running over his children in a playful catch, or just you and Sihtric sitting by the fire playing with them before tucking them into bed. But they were nowhere to be seen.

“Where is our little pack?” you asked with a hint of worry in your voice, frustration rising as you struggled to untie your laces.

"With Finan and Ingrith," Sihtric replied casually, his voice dropping as he approached from behind. Had you listened more closely, you would have heard a bit of hoarseness in his voice. "I asked them to look after our children for the night." 

The Dane put his hands on your waist and pulled you gently from behind, pressing your back against his chest. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, his facial hair tingling your skin as he planted soft kisses on the side of your neck. 

"I would have preferred to be informed of this idea of yours, Sihtric," you sighed, lifting your head to give him better access to your neck. You felt a shiver run down your spine, a strange but familiar warmth blooming in your lower abdomen: you could not remember the last time Sihtric had made your head spin and your body tremble with pleasure, the sounds of your moans echoing in your head.

“Is it so wrong to surprise you, little wife?” he whispered in your ear. 

His teeth slowly grazed the skin of your neck. It was only meant as a tease, a way to have you fully entranced by him. Your words began to come out in broken, stuttered responses as you tried to think of anything coherent. 

"Help me undo these laces and you will see how wrong you are," you replied courtly and sharply breathed, feigning offence in that remaining moment of lucidity. But your veil of resoluteness soon fell as you felt his rough hands cross your back, one of his tattooed fingers tracing your spine in a fluid motion. And as you sighed at the sensation of him touching the laces of your dress, a loud gasp escaped your mouth as you heard the muffled sound of a tear, the movement so unexpected that you lost your balance and were forced to place your hands on the table.

"Ah, m-my dress!" you hissed, your eyelids half open at the feel of his mouth kissing and nibbling your exposed skin, from the nape of your neck to your shoulders. "You tore one of your gifts-"

"I will buy you another one," Sihtric cut you off with a low murmur, savouring every inch of you with his mouth, "I will buy you the finest gown in all of Northumbria, if you allow me," the Dane continued, working his way up from your shoulder to your earlobe, nibbling gently, "but you know I will always prefer you without your clothes on."

All hope of maintaining self-control was lost when his hands began to squeeze your breasts as he sank his teeth into your tender flesh. You moaned loudly, your mind clouded with too much pleasure as you pressed against his body: Sihtric let out a low, guttural moan as he felt his throbbing cock pressed against your arse, sinking his teeth deeper into your shoulders. 

He had waited too long for this moment, and had he had the chance, he would have stripped you naked and humped you on the kitchen table. But in his eyes you were his queen and goddess, ready to throw away his pleasure to satisfy yours first.

Instead, Sihtric spun you around and sat you on the table while he quickly revealed your breasts, slightly swollen from all the time you had spent carrying and feeding your children. His lips trailed down your throat, his tongue tasting the saltiness of your skin as he finally reached for your breast, his mouth enveloping and sucking gently as he cupped the other one in his hand, teasing your hardening nipple with his fingers. Shrieks and whimpers were your only sounds, accompanied by your soft moans as you rolled your eyes back, your back arching as you surrendered to the pleasure of the moment, the warmth in your abdomen spreading uncontrollably. 

You could feel your core pulsing with excitement, a burning sensation that felt like sweet torture to you, loud sighs mixed with your screams as you desperately searched for something to relieve you. The wetness between your legs only increased as you felt one of Sihtric's hands push up your skirt, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh as they reached your warm cunt. 

"Already so wet for me, my love?" the Dane asked in a hoarse voice, teasing your core with a few strokes before pushing a finger inside you, the intrusion unexpected but pleasurable at the same time. You almost forgot how thick his fingers were as he stroked inside you, how often he let your body float and how much your legs trembled at his touch. 

Babbling and rambling words were the only thing you could say, your rational self temporarily gone. His name, called out like a ritual chant in a breathless voice, was the only word you could manage, your low throaty voice reaching his ears like a distant melody, frustrating him as his cock grew impatient in his breeches. But he knew he would postpone his pleasure for much longer, not before he made you squirm and scream his name loudly until your lungs were empty of air.

"How much I missed this," Sihtric whispered, leaning his head towards you, "how much I missed us." 

"Sihtric," you sighed as his lips met yours, the kiss far from the gentle one you had shared in the morning. It was a needy, bruising kiss that told a story of longing touch and pent-up passion, of two souls locking their primary desires for the sake of their family. 

Sihtric's tongue parted, the tip finding an entrance into your parted lips. You allowed him to enter your mouth, your tongues meeting in a frenzied dance as you swallowed another loud moan and felt another finger penetrate you. You inadvertently moved your hips towards him, moaning at how perfectly his thick fingers stretched inside you, his wriggles teasing and rubbing your tight walls. 

Your husband could feel your hips moving frantically against his hand, your arse slapping against his open palm and your walls tightening against his fingers, a signal that your climax was reaching its breaking point. But he had no intention of letting you finish like that: he needed to remember how you tasted, to savour you and drink you all up. 

He gently pushed you back, wanting to lay you down and bury his head in your thighs. But you quickly grabbed his wrist and stopped him, a frustrated moan escaping his lips.

"Not here," you murmured breathlessly, your body still trembling from the pleasure you had just received. For as much as you could not wait to release your own excitement, you would never let him take you on the table. 

Sihtric's impatience grew as he scooped you up in his arms, carried you in front of the fire and laid you on the warm furs. Your lips entwined again in hungry and lustful kisses as you both undressed, Sihtric tearing your dress to shreds while you removed his with gentle movements, letting them fall with a soft thud. 

You both stood naked by the fire, his lips moving quickly down, tasting and biting your skin from throat to belly, until he spread your legs in desperation, his head trapped between your thighs. His breath was hot against your folds, the heat from his mouth so pleasant and arousing that you would have closed your legs and found some friction had Sihtric not spread them with his hands. He teased your wet core with the tip of his tongue, but the taste of you was so intoxicating that all restraint was lost. First a lick, then his tongue penetrated your folds, devouring you like prey after a day's hunting. Your head began to spin, moans and whimpers escaping your lips as your fingers trailed over his curls, tugging wildly at them, causing the Dane to grunt and moan in return. 

You reached your peak quickly, coming on his tongue as he eagerly lapped up your release. Your thighs trembled under his grip, which caused Sihtric to chuckle next to your folds. 

“Good girl, such a pretty wife I have,” he said quietly with a kiss to each thigh. “Are you willing to give me one more?” 

Before you could even answer, he allowed you to taste yourself on his lips as he positioned himself between your legs, his cock twitching painfully as his own arousal desperately needed to be released. Keeping your legs spread, he spat on his tip and after a few strokes, he positioned himself at your entrance and thrust into you in one swift motion. It took all his willpower not to fuck you at speed: instead he chose a slow approach, his length stretching inside you like a sweet torture. He was slow at first, creating a careful rhythm, knowing how sensitive you were.

“Do not be so gentle now, husband,” you said softly as you leaned up. Your lips ghosted across his chest, then his collarbone, creating a trail of chills as you went. His thrusts faltered a bit as he shuddered with each kiss. “I am not some fragile flower, I can take it.”

Your leg wrapped around his hips, allowing him deeper inside you as you angled your hips up. One hand gripped your thigh, holding your leg tightly around him, while the other braced itself on the furs, holding his weight. A string of curse came out with every thrust, now deeper and harder. 

The crackling of the fire could not hide the vocal chaos you two were making, the room filled with your whimpers and moans, Sihtric panting and grunting as he fucked you deep and hard, hissing under his teeth every time you tugged at his curls wildly. One of his hands moved from your hips to your flat stomach, the circling movements gentle in contrast to his rough movements.

“How good would it be to see you round with my pup again,” he whispered with an animalistic growl, never faltering his pace as you both rocked against each other’s hips.

“I would like to, husband” you whined, arching your back and head as he hit a sensitive spot. “But I am afraid my body could not bear another pup inside me,” 

Upon hearing your words, Sihtric lowered over you, kissing the contour of your jaw gently, “Never underestimate the workings of the gods, my love,” he whispered with a hoarse voice, “We do not know what-”

A choked moan escaped his throat, grunting against your neck as he quickened the pace once more, his own climax on the verge of the release. The grip on your hips tightened into a bruised vice, your walls clenching around him, eagerly awaiting his release.

"Fuck, please," you let out a sharp breath as you clung to him, your nails digging into his back until they left scratches. Your senses were sharpened by the growing wave of pleasure, leaving you temporarily stunned as you felt your own release coming. 

"Come to me, my queen," was the gruff voice of Sihtric you heard, praising you and whispering honeyed words before you both came simultaneously, wetting his cock with your fluids as your walls milked him of all his seed. When he pulled himself out, you both collapsed on the furs, both a terrible mess, but neither of you wanted to leave each other's embrace. You remained entwined for minutes that seemed an eternity, your fingers intertwined as you opened your eyes.

"Sihtric," you called out breathlessly, feeling the Dane's head rise against your neck, "What if the gods do not bless us with another pup?" 

Your question made Sihtric smile fondly, his rough hand resting on your cheeks as your lips met in a tender kiss.

"Then I will thank them for giving me a beautiful wife and five loving children to love and cherish with my whole heart."

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it!

Taglist: @whitedarkmoonflower @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @foxyanon @legitalicat @zaldritzosrose

@alexagirlie @sylasthegrim @lord-aldhelm @sihtricsafin @arcielee

[wosoxwriterrr]

Stina Blackstenius x Swedish Arsenal reader

request- could u do smth with stina blackstenius where reader is very flirty with stina, making flirty comments and being touchy with her but stina is absolutely clueless and doesnt catch on at all. then reader has enough and just kisses stina ☺️

a/n- i’m aware my fics are pretty short atm but bare with me :) requests are open!!

518 words ———

You always found a way to be close to Stina, you really liked her so you wanted to be around her. You always laughed at her jokes a bit too loud making those around you give you some glares but you didn’t care.

Walking into colney you spot Stina getting out of her car, you run over to her turining into a koala as you wrap your limbs around her. “Hej på dig med y/n” (Hello to you too) She giggles at your current position. “Jag saknade dig” (I missed you) you whispered into her ear, still clinging to her.

Before training, laura caught you making heart eyes at Stina and came over to talk to you. “what’s going on between you two?” she said quietly so no one else could hear. “i wish i knew Laura, i’ve tried so many times to tell her without actually telling her but she’s just so oblivious” Laura places a comforting hand on your back “maybe just use your words” she gets no response, just a knowing sigh.

During training, you being a defender and Stina being a striker, both of you were working together on some drills. As you start defending the ball away from her, Stina accidentally clips your heal sending you straight to the grass holding your ankle. “OMG y/n I am so sorry” she says as she rushes to your side. “Stina It’s okay don’t worry about it, I am fine kärlek” (love). You get back on your feet and walk back into the building with the medics.

Sitting in your cubby with ice on your ankle, the team start to filter in. Stina makes a beeline to you. “How’s the ankle?” said with a sympathetic tone. “Just a little niggle, nothing big luckily” said with a sheepish smile. “I was so scared, wouldn’t want to hurt my best friend” the minute the words ‘best friend’ came out of her mouth, your heart sunk. “Are you okay y/n” Stina asks with concern. You stay quiet for a moment. “Ka jag kyssa dig?” (Can I kiss you?) Stina looks at you for a moment then lightly nods her head. Soon your lips were connecting with Stina’s and your heart felt like it was about to explode. You had waited for this moment for years! You pull away “Förlåt att jag inte borde ha gjort att du inte ens gillar mig” (Sorry I shouldn’t have done that you don’t even like me) “I never said I didn’t like you y/n, I just didn’t know you liked me” as she looks at the wall behind you. “I thought I was making it really obvious, I think you’re just oblivious Stina” you say with a little chuckle. “Y/n is right, you’re oblivious” Frida chimes in after over hearing the conversation.

Everyone starts to leave the changing room, leaving you and Stina. “Well em I will call you later maybe only if you want” you say kind of nervously. “Jag skulle älska det” (I would love that) as she quickly pulls you in for a quick peck leaving you both blushing messes.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Members Only 2

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, cheating, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Grace is in tears. She’s babbling as Charlotte and Mona try to mop up her running mascara. The bottle of champagne is empty and Lillian is mindlessly swaying at the window as the club lights flash into the room. It’s chaos. You’re not sure exactly what to do. 

You’ve been with Mrs. Shelby for a few months. Typically, she’s the sort for high tea or a luncheon. Often, you’re following her around to the elitist events and waiting outside watching your phone. Or you attend her privately why she rants about the newest designs be so hard to come by or that she can’t go to Paris whenever she wishes. Her biggest complaints are your most unlikely dreams. 

“I just don’t understand... I try so hard,” she garbles and slurs drunkenly.  

You try not to listen too closely. You’re there to take orders and to make certain she is taken care of. The other women are looking after her just fine and you’d hate to embarrass her by consciously witnessing her unraveling. 

Mona burps behind her hand and you see how her throat locks up. She’s hardly in better condition. Charlotte is slumping from her foray into the tequila and hardly seems cognizant of more than try to clear away the grey streaks from Grace’s cheeks. 

You rush forward as Mona’s shoulders rise. You grab the metal bucket meant for ice and shove it under her mouth. She throws up and hugs the container as she fills it with alcoholic bile and half-digested crustini. Charlotte groans and covers her mouth. 

“Oh, Mona, why do you have to do that?” She whines, “ugh, I need to get out--” 

She hurries off into the attached bathroom and the door slams. Lillian is still entirely unaware. You wonder if it has anything to do with the pill she slipped from a small tin earlier. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter. What concerns you is what’s happening right then. 

Mona finishes and nearly drops the bucket. You catch it and set it on the bar. She slumps back and closes her eyes, her head lolling as she mutters. This is no way for refined women to behave. You could never have seen Grace like this, let alone these women in their Chanel and Louboutins. 

“Mrs. Shelby,” you go to your boss and lean down, “should I get the car?” 

“Where is my husband?” She snarls in your face, her tears dissolving at once. “I want Thomas. Right now.” 

“Mrs. Shelby, I don’t know if he’s still here--” 

“I don’t care if he’s here,” she snaps and pushes you away, “don’t talk to me until you find him.” 

You gulp and rub your shoulder where she shoved you. This isn’t good. It’s the very reason you don’t drink. People are so ugly when they do. 

You turn to Mona as she groans, half-bent over her lap. Charlotte returns in a stagger and Lillian sways with her head and shoulders slouched. Alright, you have a plan. 

“Lil,” you go over to the woman by the window, “can you help Mona? Your taxi is here?” 

“Taxi? Where’s the streetcar?” She demands. 

“It’s been delayed but the cab will get you all home,” you promise her, plotting how you’ll flag down a car once you get them out in the fresh air. “Mona,” you go back to the woman on the couch. “Charlotte, how about you help too! It’s been a long night, aren’t you all tired?” 

Your pulse is thumping in your temples. You rarely ever speak to Grace’s friends, especially not like this. You feel like a mother getting her children in line. The three companions finally cluster together, Mona clinging to the other two as they wobble towards the door. You lead them as if you’re dangling cheese before a mouse. 

It takes some time and a few close calls to get them down the spiralled stairs. On even ground, they move a bit better but the dancing bodies and hollers add to the disorder of the night. When you get them outside, a bouncer catches Lillian before she slip on her stiletto heel. He’s got a round belly and a leering smile. 

“Careful, ma’am, that’s a mighty fine dress to be mussing,” he warns as he sets her straight. 

You skirt around them and wave at a yellow car just down the way. As it heads towards you, you take out your phone and sift through Grace’s shared contact book. Oh gosh, where is Charlotte? You suppose if you send them to just one house, they’ll be alright. 

You find Charlotte’s address as the driver pulls up. The bouncer comes forward again to assist the women into the car and you thank him. He dips his head chivalrously as he folds Lillian’s legs into the taxi. You cringe and poke your head inside to instruct the driver. You hope they get there otherwise you might be handing out resumes again. 

You shut the door and turn back to face the club. You’re not the sort to frequent those places and only Grace’s presence lures you in. The bouncer walks you back to the doors and you flit back inside. You’re caught in the crush, sent crashing into another person by a flailing body. You fight through the crowd, putting your elbow up as you raise your other arm to protect your head. 

You trip free of the wall of dancers and reach the bottom of the stairs to the private room. You blow out a breath and look up, then around. You should try to find Mr. Shelby. You need help with Grace as it is but you’re terrified that you may get her into trouble. She’s drunk and she’s not thinking. You doubt he’ll be impressed with her in her current state. He rarely seems impressed with anything. 

“Are you looking for me?” The voice jolts you and you jump as you face the very man who’d only just been haunting your mind. You nod and blink dumbly. “My wife...” 

“Sir, um,” you look back and forth guiltily, “she’s... not feeling well--” 

“She’s drunk,” he says pointedly. “Hmm,” his lips curve but it’s not really a smile. “Yes, she does love her champagne. We discussed this before, didn’t we?” His dark lashes flick and his jaw squares as he peers up the stairs, “well, then, shall we go save her from herself?” 

“Um, sir, she didn’t eat much, maybe--” 

“Do not make excuse for her. I pay you to keep her busy, not to cover her tail,” he insists, “please, after you.” 

He gestures up the stairs and you lower your gaze, “I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby. I’m only concerned for her.” 

“Someone should be if she isn’t concerned for herself,” he remarks. 

You turn and start up the steps. He follows, closely. You lead him up the metal stairs and open the door to the private room. Your met with the shatter of the champagne bottle as it flies at the door frame next to you. You put your hand up as shards of glass rain across your right side. 

“How dare you leave me like that--” She snarls. 

“Grace!” Mr. Shelby brushes by you, nudging you gently out of his way, only to storm towards his wife. 

“Oh, there you are,” she sneers, “finally done with your whore--” 

“I’ve been about business while you’ve been here drowning in champagne. Champagne I am paying for.” He bends over her, looming dangerously. 

“Business,” she mocks then scoffs as she stares up at him defiantly, “sure.” 

“Don’t,” he warns as he stands straight, “I paid for you to have a night out. I thought perhaps you might appreciate that. I wonder when you became so spoiled.” 

She pouts and juts out her chin, “Tommy...” she reaches for him as he turns away, tearing his sleeve away from her grasp.

He marches for the door and stop right beside you, “are you alright?” 

“Sir, I was only startled--” 

You wince as he dusts off a piece of glass from your shoulder. 

“Get her home,” he demands, “but not at your own risk. I wouldn’t be so disappointed to hear if she blusters herself into the gutters.” 

He huffs and pulls open the door. You watch him go as Grace devolves into drunken sobs. You hope she doesn’t remember this. You’d rather forget it yourself. 

[teojira]

QUEEN loved your noa hcs ty for feeding us!! would you pretty please write some about him realizing he has feelings for the reader and trying to impress them/drop hints/confess :3c

[Youth][Noa x reader drabble/headcanons]

Summary: Noa is down bad for you, and he doesn't know what to do about it.

Warnings: Nothing that I can think of!

Word count:

A/N: I miss Noa so bad, can you tell? I hope these r okay anon! Sorry it took me so long to get to these </3

There was never any preparation for this, no recorded interactions between Echo and Apes that ended in them being mates.

How the hell was Noa supposed to proceed?

He's not ready for this. He's been shoving it down deep inside, telling himself what he feels for you is friendship. He's just worried for you, is all.

You're just a human that lives with them, that's all. A really pretty human. He certainly doesn't daydream of you, running his fingers through your hair, staring into your eyes for hours, teaching you how to hunt and fish. He doesn't. It'd never work between you both.

Ape and Echo, Caesar made it work, Noa had learned as much.

It wasn't until his mother started pestering him, shooting him looks whenever he would randomly bring you up in conversation, despite the subject having nothing to do with you.

"You like them." The rate at which Noa snaps his neck back at Dar is concerning. She's almost positive she heard a snap.

"No? Why-"

"I am your mother, I know you."

"Mother, maybe if I had to-" Noa tries to sign fast, but the blush rushing to his face isn't helping.

"Had to? Why would you ever have to love them?"

"...oh."

She got him there.

"But we are so...different. It would never work." Noa stares down at his hands, exhaling harshly.

"Noa, listen to me." Dar rests his hand under Noa's chin, tilting it towards herself.

"Don't wait. Follow your heart."

"But what if-"

Dar shakes her head, bring her palm to cover Noa's heart. "Follow."

Now, with his mother's blessing, Noa is a lot more confident in courting you.

Doesn't mean he's good at it.

He doesn't have any basis for this. Give him a break. His mother and father weren't particularly keen on letting their relationship be for everyone to see, even to their son. So yes, he's struggling.

He starts off with spending more time with you, offering to take you on day trips to the city, under the guise of looking for more "Echo books" for you.

He has to subtly tell Anaya to fuck off when he tries to invite himself and Soona with you both. Poor Noa is shaking his head behind you with death and horror in his eyes until Anaya finally gets the hint.

Speaking of which, Anaya and Soona try and help. They mean well, but Noa is not trying to rush into it. The two have other plans.

They trade jobs with Noa, with the intent that it'll push you into Noas proximity more.

Sorry! You can't ride with Soona, you have to be with Noa!

You had cooking duty with Anaya? Well, he actually isn't feeling good, so Noa will help you with tonight's meal.

Noa both hates and loves his friends for it, especially when you two grow closer.

He feels a sense of pride when he shows off his strength in front of you, biting back a smirk when he sees your eyes widen when he climbs. When he makes you laugh when he picks you up and swings you around.

Noa gets an ego the first time he protects you from an wild animal, obviously not while the threat is there, but when you cling to him and thank him profusely and you're so close, his brain is short circuiting and he feels like the strongest ape in the world.

He'll start to bring you back relics he's found on his trips, stuff ranging from books to jewelry to clothing he's found that are in salvageable condition.

"Noa! Where did you even find this?" You reach out to slap at his shoulder, staring down at the hoodie in your hand (it's slightly damp, Noa washing it to the best of his ability before gifting it to you).

"I have my ways." He's so smug. He knows you're gonna hug him in return, and it damn near makes him feral.

Eventually his courting is so blatant that everyone knows his intentions, all silently rooting for him.

Everyone knows, but you don't. And it makes him want to rip his fur out.

Noa thinks he couldn't be clearer. He feeds you, hunts and gathers for you, checks on you constantly, and follows you around when able.

He's even picked you wild flowers, something he has seen in one of the Echo books that 'boyfriends' would do.

He is fighting for his life, please, you can't be this dense.

[qwertywriting]

I honestly have no idea what happened here and I might have gotten a bit carried away...

this was based on my brainrot about biker!boothill

not edited or proofread

-☆☆☆-

Biker!Boothill who decided to get into motorcycles because of the thrill, going at high speeds, weaving in and out of traffic it was a rush of adrenaline with no- minimal risks. Dangerous? Dangerous for who? Definitely not him. Reckless?? It's all calculated, baby.

Some have tried and pick a fight, for whatever petty reason, but they soon learn it’s futile, a flash of teeth and a gun gets the point across pretty quick.

Biker!Boothill who downloaded lots of fashion magazines, because he it's cooler aesthetically, and he can make a good first impression. 

Biker!Boothill who drives around randomly just to see where his heart takes him, getting lost is the point- which is how he ended up spotting a familiar head of silver hair, down the street.

Boothill doesn’t really think through his next actions but a low rumble and high pitched whistle catches you and Stelle off guard.  Both of you, like everyone else around you, turn to the direction of the sound only to see a black motorcycle with streaks of red rolling up towards you and Stelle.  The tall figure steps off the bike, and lifts up the visor to peer at the both of you before pulling off the red helmet and giving his head a small shake. His intimidating expression morphs to excitement. “Fudge me sideways — Stelle, it really was you! I’d recognise that head of hair anywhere.”  Boothill only realised Stelle wasn’t alone when he arrived on the sidewalk, as you stood slightly behind Stelle. Giving you a small wave, flashing you a grin, showing off his augmented teeth. “Whoops, I almost didn’t see ya there darlin’” “Oh my god.” Stelle groans, “why did you have to yell loud enough to alert the entire street?”  Boothill clicks his tongue, running a hand through his hair. “I was just excited to see ya. So are ‘yer gonna introduce your friend to me or nah?” 

Biker!Boothill who was bugging Stelle for your phone number only to be surprised when he gets added into a group chat consisting of him, Stelle and you, along with an invite to go to a cafe hosting a collaboration with your favorite characters. 

Biker!Boothill who is constantly jumping at opportunities to invite you out for rides, Stelle is quick to shut down that idea at first, recalling several incidents of weaving through cars at high speeds and too many close calls.

Boothill, just grins at you, assuring you nothing bad would happen but you get the feeling that as long as he’s in the driver’s seat it would always end up like a rollercoaster. 

The one time you accept his invitation, it ends up involving the wails of sirens following behind, as you speed down the highway, and Boothill seemingly unfazed as he accelerates to even higher speeds that leave you feeling dizzy.

It probably takes you a long while before you accept another invitation to go for another ride. 

Bonus:

Stelle mentions braiding Boothill's hair while stopped at traffic lights for fun and surprisingly Boothill just lets you do it, but he also takes an extra second to make sure you’re clinging onto him before he speeds off again. 

[theemporium]

can i please request a 🩵blues lagoon; "I'm not going to hurt you." with luke hughes please? :)

thank you for requesting!��🏽

14. "I'm not going to hurt you."

.

He was running. 

He hadn’t stopped running. 

He wasn’t sure if he had been running for minutes or hours. He wasn’t sure if the night was dragging out or if the forest canopy had blocked the daylight, if it was actually the next day altogether. He wasn’t sure where Quinn or Jack were, or if the others had made it to safety. He didn’t know anything except he couldn’t stop running. 

Werewolves were an endangered species these days. They were hunted and chased and killed. They were the number one threat to whatever stupid myths the humans followed and believed. Most of the wolves Luke knew stayed in hiding, away from big cities or towns. Some hid in plain sight, living amongst the humans that were none the wiser. 

And some lived a life mixed in between. 

Some being Luke and his brothers and the makeshift pack they had formed over the years. 

It was a risky lifestyle, one they had been pushing the line on for months. They had been safe, cautious, wary of. And all of it had come crumbling down in less than twenty-four hours and now, Luke was running for his life with no knowledge on whether his brothers were safe or if the others escaped or if he would even make it to the hideout alive. 

Funny how life worked out. 

He had lost count on how many hunters were chasing him. When he escaped the dungeon they had been locking him up in, it had been around the fifteen mark but he swore he lost a handful of them a few hours back. But he couldn’t stop to check. He couldn’t stop to rest. 

He just had to keep running and running and running—

Luke let out a pained whimper when he felt a jab on his side. The momentum was enough to knock him off his feet, for his body to hit the ground and slide across the dirt as he tried to get ahold of his senses once again. His body shifted before he could stop himself, before he could even think about the consequences of his actions as the arrow in his side twisted around his transforming body. 

“Luke?” 

He blinked, letting out a shaky breath as he found you standing a few feet away, crossbow still lifted and pointed at him. But your face—he had never seen such a mix of emotions. Confusion. Betrayal. Shock. Maybe even something quite like concern.

“Hi,” he rasped out, letting out a heavy sigh as a twinge of pain rushed through his body. 

“You’re—” And even though you cut yourself off, he could fill in the rest. 

You’re a werewolf and you never told me. You’re a werewolf and you have been my friend for the last few months like nothing was wrong. You’re a werewolf and the exact creature my family hunt, have been hunting for decades. You’re a werewolf and I never knew.

“Yeah,” he murmured, something quite like bitter acceptance settling in his stomach. He didn’t want this to be the end. He didn’t want you to be the one to kill him. But you were a hunter and he was a werewolf with an arrow in his side and he knew his chances of escaping this were slim. 

He knew his chances of ever seeing Jack and Quinn again were slim. He knew his chances of making it to the hideout and seeing the rest of the pack were slim. He knew his chances of making it out alive were slim. 

“Did you catch one?” 

Luke stiffened as the familiar voice of your father—the same ruthless hunter that almost nabbed Nico a few months ago—sounded from somewhere in the forest. His heart thumped in his chest, the urge to close his eyes and try to cling onto some happy memories before his demise growing stronger. He waited for you to—

“No!” You yelled back, your eyes glued on Luke as he stared back with wide eyes. “False alarm. It was just a deer. I think he headed north!” 

Luke’s lips parted in surprise as you began moving closer, your words still ringing in his ears as you crouched beside him and reached your hands out. Instinctively, he tried to scamper back. The pain pulsed through his body but he bit back the cry he wanted to let out.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” you assured the boy, your hands stretched out to show you meant no harm. “I want to help.” 

Luke shot you a suspicious look. “You expect me to believe you?” 

“No,” you replied honestly. “But I’m hoping my actions will speak louder than my words. Now, let me get that arrow out of you so we can hide before my father finds you.”

.

[estellan0vella]

Really Bad Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

The room is dark, bathed in the soft, ambient glow from the streetlight outside. You’re nestled comfortably in bed beside Sukuna, his arm draped protectively over your waist. The night is serene, a peaceful lull after a busy day at the parlour.

Suddenly, your body tenses, jerking violently. Sukuna stirs, instantly alert, his instincts kicking in. "Baby?" he whispers, concern etching into his features as he feels the tremors wrack your body. "Babe, can you hear me?"

Your eyes are wide open but unseeing, and guttural, pained noises escape through your gritted teeth. Sukuna’s heart pounds as he quickly turns on the bedside lamp, the light revealing the severity of your seizure.

“Fuck,” he mutters, urgency gripping him. He grabs his phone, fingers trembling as he dials the emergency services, rattling off the necessary details. "My girlfriend's having a seizure. It's not stopping. Yes, she's epileptic. Please, hurry."

As he ends the call, the door creaks open. Yuji stands there, rubbing sleep from his eyes, his small face scrunched in worry. "Suku, what's happening to Y/N/N?"

"Yuji, stay calm," Sukuna says, trying to keep his voice steady. "Y/N's having a seizure. The ambulance is on its way."

"But she’s making those scary noises," Yuji whimpers, inching closer to the bed.

Sukuna scoops him up with his free arm, holding him tightly. "I know, buddy. It’s gonna be okay. We just need to wait for the ambulance."

The minutes drag on, each second feeling like an eternity. Your seizure shows no signs of stopping. Sukuna places you on your side, ensuring you’re safe, while holding Yuji close, murmuring reassurances.

Finally, the sound of sirens pierces the night. Sukuna carries Yuji as he rushes to open the door for the paramedics. "In here," he directs, voice tight with urgency.

The paramedics move swiftly, administering the first dose of diazepam. Sukuna watches, anxiety clawing at him as your body continues to convulse. After three doses, your seizure finally begins to subside, but your breathing is shallow and erratic.

"She's stable for now, but we need to get her to the hospital," one of the paramedics says. Sukuna nods, his grip on Yuji tightening.

In the ambulance, Sukuna calls Gojo, his fingers slick with sweat. "It’s Y/N. She had a bad seizure. We’re on our way to the hospital."

Gojo's voice is immediately filled with concern. "We’ll meet you there. Hang in there, Sukuna."

The ride to the hospital feels like an eternity. Yuji clings to Sukuna, wide-eyed and frightened. "Is Y/N/N gonna be okay?" he asks, voice trembling.

"She will be," Sukuna assures him, though worry gnaws at him.

At the hospital, the medics rush you inside, and Yuji’s fear morphs into panic. "Y/N/N! No!" he screams, trying to break free from Sukuna’s hold. "I want to be with her!"

"Yuji, you have to stay here," Sukuna says, his voice strained as he struggles to keep a grip on the frantic boy. "Let the doctors help her."

Yuji fights against him, kicking and scratching, a particularly vicious bite drawing blood from Sukuna's arm. "Let me go! I want Y/N/N!"

“Yuji, stop!” Sukuna shouts, pain lacing his voice. "You’re hurting me. I promise she’ll be okay."

Yuji's struggles weaken, his cries turning to sobs as he clings to Sukuna. "I want Y/N/N," he whimpers, the heartbreak in his voice tearing at Sukuna's heart.

Gojo and Geto arrive as Yuji cries into Sukuna's t-shirt, wiping snot and tears all over the fabric. "We’ll take Yuji to get something to eat, Sukuna. Stay with her," Geto says gently, prying Yuji from Sukuna's arms.

"Y/N will be okay," Gojo assures Yuji as they head towards the cafeteria. "Let’s give her some time to rest."

Sukuna watches them go, his heart heavy but grateful for his friends' support. Once you’re stable and moved to a room, he finally allows himself a moment to breathe. He sits by your bed, holding your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

Gojo and Geto return with Yuji, who immediately climbs into the bed next to you, curling up at your side. “Y/N/N?” he whispers, his voice shaky. "It's me, Yuji. You're gonna be okay."

The room is quiet, filled only with the sound of your breathing and the steady beeping of the monitors. Time seems to stretch on forever, until finally, you stir, eyes fluttering open. Confusion clouds your gaze as you take in the hospital room, your mind struggling to piece together what happened.

“Yuji?” you croak out, your voice barely a whisper.

Yuji’s face lights up with relief, and he squeezes your hand. “You had a seizure, Y/N/N. It was really bad, but you're okay now. Suku and I are here.”

Sukuna leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We’re here, babe. Just rest. We’ve got you.”

Gojo and Geto stand nearby, their presence a comforting reassurance. “Take it easy,” Gojo says softly. “You’re safe now.”

You close your eyes, exhaustion pulling you back under, but the fear and confusion are lessened by the love and support surrounding you. As you drift back to sleep, Sukuna and Yuji remain by your side, a steadfast reminder that no matter what, they will always be there to protect you.

taglist - @sad-darksoul @thejujvtsupost

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Baki Short Stories: Paparazzi

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Idol! Afab Reader

Author’s note: this is a social experiment and a bit different than what I normally write. If it takes off, I’ll write another part to it

Buy me a coffee? 💕

“Cause you know that, baby, I… I’m your biggest fan, I’ll follow you until you love me.”

Slam! Hanayama slammed the door open when he finally made it up to his room. His eyes nervously glanced around to make sure none of his subordinates followed him here.

Once he noticed no one was around, he scurried into his room and quietly shut the door behind him.

Hanayama Kaoru had a secret, the type of secret he’d kill anyone if they found out. Hanayama was a wota and he was obsessed with a pop idol by the name of (your name).

And today, he was able to get Kizaki to buy her latest merch drop… a poster. Hanayama carefully unwrapped the cling wrap off the poster so his eyes could admire the excellent photo of his oshi. She was so pretty…

Hanayama glanced at his bedroom walls that were covered in posters and various collectible merch. He didn’t have any wall space but he hasn’t put any posters on the ceiling so that should work. Honestly, that made it even better.

Hanayama grabbed some tape off his dresser and got to work. The poster now hung on his ceiling so he could admire his idol’s magnificence before he went to sleep and when he woke up. Perfect.

Hanayama flopped onto his bed, his arms clutched the body pillow of (your name) in his arms. He’s had the biggest crush on her since high school…

Hanayama closed his eyes and reminisced the moment he first heard her music when he was younger… it was when one of his classmates loaned him their ear buds and her music played. (Your name) wasn’t very big yet, she just came onto the pop scene. But her voice was what drew him in.

Hanayama rushed home that day and told Kizaki to buy him (your name)‘s CDs. That was the start of his journey of being her biggest fan.

Now Hanayama was twenty five. He tried to have a few relationships but he couldn’t tear away from his idol. Not even when he bedded other women. (Your name) was always on his mind. Hanayama felt like he was being disloyal to her… even though (your name) probably didn’t even know his existence.

Hanayama wanted her more than anything. Despite his stoic exterior, he was full of emotions… but only for his idol and his handful of friends.

Hanayama shot upright in his bed in realization. He almost missed her interview today! Today, they were going to get (your name) to talk about her ideal man and Hanayama could not miss it. And how would he know that? That’s because Hanayama paid this specific interview station to ask his question because he had submitted it for years. He needed to know…

Hanayama turned his tv on, his large body scrunched up into a ball. His arms held the body pillow close to his form for comfort. He was a bit afraid of what she’d say… what if he didn’t meet those standards? Would he be able to move on and live a normal life?

Hanayama silently watched the interview. His eyes sparkled as he watched the young woman smile and wave into the camera, her soft voice soothed him… how could someone be so pretty?

“Despite being a foreigner, you’ve really made a name for yourself, miss (your name)!” The interviewer beamed at the young idol, her smile never left her face.

“I couldn’t have gotten this far without my fans.” Hanayama almost squealed in excitement when she made a little finger heart to the camera. She was so cute! How could someone be so cute?

“Now this is a long awaited question for you, miss (your name).” The interviewer smiled at the young woman. “One your number one fan has been dying to know.”

(Your name) giggled, which made Hanayama’s heart soar. This was it! He would finally have his answer soon…

“And what do they want to know?” (Your name) smiled ever so sweetly, she batted her eyelashes a bit. Hanayama nearly fainted on the spot.

“What is your ideal man, miss (your name)?” The interviewer asked, which made (your name)’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh wow… I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that on such a big platform.” Hanayama blushed at how flustered (your name) was. Gosh his idol was so cute…

(Your name) took in a deep breath. “I like a man who is well dressed and preferably taller than me…” (Your name) smiled sheepishly before she continued, “I think I’d like them to be strong to, I’d like to be carried like a princess.”

Hanayama stopped breathing, his whole body trembled. Well dressed, tall, and strong? That was him… he was her type.

“Carried like a princess?!” The interviewer laughed which only made (your name) more flustered.

“I always dreamed of that… I’d like to be taken care of like a dainty, little doll.”

Hanayama rose up from his bed and pumped his fist in the air. His body filled with excitement. He was her type!

Hanayama would care for her and carry her around everywhere if she asked! Whatever she wanted-

Hanayama turned his head to see Kizaki standing in the door way. His right hand man cleared his throat.

“I’m so sorry to bother… whatever this is, but you have a letter from the venue (your name) is performing at-“ Kizaki sighed when the letter was snatched out of his hand. Hanayama was such a child sometimes… despite him being a grown man now.

Hanayama opened the envelope and smiled at its contents. He had successfully booked the entire VIP section… which would keep his identity a secret.

“I heard you’ll be dropping new merch tonight. What are you going to be dropping today?” The interviewer draw Hanayama’s attention back on the screen. New merch?

“It’s some limited edition photo cards!” (Your name) smiled at the interviewer. “It’s just a few pictures of me and my group.”

Hanayama turned to Kizaki who sighed. Kizaki could tell by Hanayama’s face that he wanted that book.

Kizaki nervously glanced around Hanayama’s room. Where was he even going to put it?

Hanayama continued to stare at Kizaki until the man bowed in defeat. It was time to make a trip to the store.

“Alright… I’ll go get it.” Kizaki then left Hanayama to his own devices. The yakuza boss turned his attention fully back into the tv.

Hanayama reached a finger out to touch (your name)’s face. What he wouldn’t give to finally touch her in real life…

This was going to be the first time he’d be able to see her in person… he was so excited to see her.

He could not wait…

.

.

.

“Here for the latest drop? I saved you a set, specifically just of (your name). ” The store manager asked Kizaki, which made the older man sigh. The manager chuckled. “You’re such a great dad. You’ve been here consistently for over ten years. Your son must be a huge fan!”

More like a huge pain in the- Kizaki shook that thought from his head. Hanayama was a great leader, he was just a bit… odd when it came to this particular woman. Perhaps that was just Hanayama’s generation of being obsessed with celebrities. It hurt Kizaki’s head to think about it.

“He is…” The manager nodded and handed Kizaki the set of photo cards.

“Well he must be grateful to have you! Please enjoy.” Kizaki nodded stiffly. He hated this so much… “I’ll see you next week for the next drop!l

Kizaki hated that everyone in this store knew who he was. Hanayama was lucky Kizaki looked like a civilian. Otherwise they’d be in a mess if people were aware they were yakuza.

“Have a great day! See you next week!”

Kizaki grumbled a bit. This was an abuse of power… He deserved a raise.

.

.

.

Hanayama nervously sat in the VIP. He had it all blocked off so no one could see him other than (your name) and her group from the main stage.

He nervously fiddled with the backstage pass around his neck as well as the jacket to his white suit. Hanayama made sure to wear one of his best suits, no matter how tempted he was to wear merch. Hanayama had to maintain his ‘cool’ image despite the raging fan from within.

Hanayama adjusted his glasses, a round hand fan tightly clenched in his hand with (your name)’s smiling face on it. This was the smallest pleasure he’d allow himself…

Hanayama’s breath hitched when he saw (your name) get onto stage with her group, her smiled looked even more beautiful in person…

Hanayama watched her start to perform, his complete attention on her jovial form. Hanayama could tell she enjoyed what she did for a living… it’s another reason why he adored her so much.

Hanayama held out his palm and imagined her dancing on his palm. His body relaxed at that thought. He wished they could be together so desperately but their worlds were so very different…

Hanayama froze when (your name) made her way over towards the VIP, his heart drummed in his chest when their eyes locked on one another. Hanayama stood up and automatically went towards the stage. (Your name)’s presence was magnetic.

The world felt as if it stopped when her entire attention was on him while she sung and danced. It was just him and her despite the sold out stadium… him and his idol.

Hanayama flipped over the fan to show off the back of it that said, “will you be my onee-chan?”

(Your name) paused for a second, but then she gave him a smile so sweet that it could make teeth rot. Her hand went up and gave him a finger heart.

Hanayama fell to his knees when she sauntered away to continue her performance. His hand clutched his heart to try to calm the drumming of her heart that begged to burst from his chest to dance with her. His cheeks burned like a fire from how hot they were.

(Your name) was the only woman in the world who had such an effect on the normally stoic man.

After a decade, he finally was able to see his idol in real life… and it was more magical than he could have ever imagined.

Soon… he’d get to speak with her.

.

.

.

(Your name) adjusted her appearance in the mirror of her dressing room. Her body trembled a bit in anxiousness.

When they told her that her number on fan had rented out the entire VIP section, she had assumed they were an older woman or man… not a crime boss.

(Your name) shivered at how scary he was. His face was littered in scars and he was as big as a barn. She had snuck a glance at the receipt in her manager’s hand and found out his name was Hanayama Kaoru and he was twenty five years old.

Despite his mature appearance, he was a year younger than her, which fascinated her a bit. Hanayama seemed like such a no nonsense man… why on earth was he here to see her perform?

“(Your name), your number one fan is here.” (Your name) tried her best not to role her eyes at the sarcasm one of her group members exuded.

(Your name) took in a deep breath and put on her game face. It was fine… she could do this.

(Your name) rose from the vanity chair to go greet Hanayama. The giant man awkwardly stood outside the room, he looked so out of place that it was almost comical.

“Hello, are you Hanayama?” (Your name) smiled at him, his red cheeks and ears made him slightly endearing. He was kind of cute in a way…

Hanayama bent down a bit until he was her height, his large hand scooped up hers and gave the back of her knuckles a tender kiss.

“My name is Hanayama Kaoru,” Hanayama looked up, his obsidian eyes now visible since she was up close. “And I’m your biggest fan.”

[happilyhertale]

Sweet Niece – Dark Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

Summary: An angry daemon strives only for its goal, satisfaction. Your innocent nature is what will help him achieve that goal.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

Warnings: Pure Smut; Mention of rape; rape; 18+; NSFW;

Author’s note: A friend has been wanting this story for a long time - so I hope you like it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1.9 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The sun had long since disappeared into the sea, bathing the room in a soft, muted darkness as you sit on your bed. Only the soft candlelight enveloped your chambers in a gentle glow.

The day had been exhausting, marked by the tumultuous quarrel that your uncle, Daemon Targaryen, had once again caused. The ensuing heated arguments had pushed you to your limits, and you had finally retreated.

In the silence of your chambers you have sought refuge and taken a bath, hoping to relax and calm your thoughts. Now you sit on your bed, still waiting for the relaxation to finally set in. But you can't shake an oppressive feeling. Hoping to shake off the feeling, you gently spread some lavender oil on your arms and legs, wanting to be enveloped by the soothing scent. With only a towel wrapped around your upper body, you try to calm down.

But in the midst of the quiet solitude, you feel the intrusion of an unwelcome presence. You flinch as your door is suddenly pushed open. You lift your gaze, and there, in the center of the room, stood Daemon Targaryen, his countenance filled with seething rage. The room seemed to echo with his heavy, labored breaths, and his piercing, purple eyes bore into your soul.

You look at him with your big purple Targaryen eyes, "Uncle?" you whisper a little uncertainly, trying to cover your body.

His gaze is fixed on you, his expression one of apparent stoicism, except for the wrinkles on his forehead that betray the storm of anger seething within him. You feel his eyes slowly move down your body in a blatant display of lust. But you remain silent, not really daring to breathe. After a while the silence is almost unbearable. You try to squeeze your legs further together, your hands clinging to the towel as an attempt to protect your upper body from his gaze.

"Uncle?" you finally ask again, when you can't stand the stifling silence any longer.

But then, without warning, he rushes toward you with big steps. In the process, he knocks over a chair that gets in his way. The flight reflex takes hold of you and you try to crawl away, but he is faster. He gets a hold of your leg and pulls you back. He presses you firmly against the mattress.

"Uncle!" you scream out as he pushes your legs apart brutally with his knees. He must take out his rage on you.

He grabs you with all his might and holds your mouth shut while he hisses in your ear, "Not. Another. Word."

You just whimper and tears come to your eyes. He tears the towel away from you and you lie exposed under him.

Without warning, he thrusts his fingers into you and you hear a dark growl in his chest.

You continue to whimper and try to escape his grip, to close your legs. But his grip is firm and unyielding. Again and again he thrusts his fingers into you, making you squirm. His other hand presses firmly on your mouth, you can't speak, only whimpering sounds escape you. You begin to beat against his chest. Again and again your hands hit against him, but they seem to hit against his muscular chest almost without any noticeable damage.

You whimper as the realization comes to you that you can't fight back. But then you reach into his long, silver hair. You pull at it brutally. You hear him growl and his hand leaves your mouth. You want to scream, but he grabs your wrist and only a pained gasp leaves your lips. He grabs so tightly that you fear he might shatter your wrist.

"Let go," he hisses. Involuntarily, your hand lets go of his hair, but the pain is unbearable. You drop your hand next to your body and his hand covers your mouth again. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears spring to your eyes.

Suddenly you feel him stop thrusting his fingers inside you. He pulls them out and you breathe a little sigh of relief. You watch him as he looks at you with his dark eyes. There is nothing left of the purple in his eyes.

Slowly he takes his fingers into his mouth and slowly licks your juice off them. Your eyes widen, your breathing heavy. You are paralyzed and he slowly takes his hand from your mouth again.

"Such sweet innocence is so rare in this world..." you hear him murmur, "I'm going to take that innocence from you," he continues to growl.

Hearing his last words, you try to escape again. You squirm and try to crawl away. But Daemon pushes you onto the bed, like a rock he lies between your legs. He grabs your head and pulls you closer, his lips hovering just above your ear, "Tell anyone what happened here tonight and you won't live to see the next moon."

Pure panic is written in your eyes, your wild breathing seems uncontainable, but you just nod slightly, a light sob escaping you.

Again he thrusts his fingers into you and you whimper. He's not gentle, he's rough. You feel the rage emanating from him. His grunt echoes through your chambers.

Slowly, almost tenderly to the thrusts of his fingers, he begins, with his other hand, to spread your legs wider. He looks down and sees his fingers disappearing inside you over and over again. The sound of his grunting seems unbearable to you.

"No one would believe you, sweet niece. No one would dare call me a liar..." he hisses at you. But you are unable to reply. You squeeze your eyes shut again as you feel his fingers penetrate you.

Until one of his hands wraps around your neck, his fingers squeezing tight. Your eyes pop open and you see his sinister grin.

You just whimper, but you feel your wetness increase between your thighs. The smacking sound caused by the work of his fingers echoes through your chambers. You hear him chuckle darkly, "Pathetic…", he murmurs.

But then he takes his hand from your neck for a short time. The smacking sound is now accompanied by the sound of his belt buckle opening.

Almost softly with a sweet undertone he whispers directly in your ear, "What an unexpected turn of events, sweet niece. Very unexpected..."

He pulls you closer to him so that your mouths are almost touching. But he just presses his hand over your mouth again.

"This is going to hurt," he murmurs.

"Please Uncle... no...", you whimper incomprehensibly, while his hand is on your mouth.

But Daemon seems unhindered in his intentions.

You look down slightly and see his hard length twitching almost furiously, with its red tip revealed each time his hand slides down his member.

He pumps his hard manhood a few times and tears run down your cheeks as you watch him.

You feel him slide his tip through your folds to wet it before he penetrates you without another word.

You feel that you are almost split. A searing pain runs through you. You want to cry out, but the hand on your mouth prevents it. You try to fight back, to push him away, but he's stronger.

"Take it... In your tight cunt..." Daemon grunts. You just whimper as he looks down at you. His rough thrusts don't let up, stretching you inch by inch.

He presses his lips on your neck and leans close to you. You feel his hot breath glide over your skin, his whisper is almost inaudible.

"No one will ever believe you... I will do as I please. And when I'm done with you, I'll do it again and again and again... No one will believe that the rogue prince did anything to the king's daughter," he hisses.

His hand slides down from your mouth and cups your neck, squeezing tight. Your vision weakens as his thrusts become almost unbearably hard.

His length is too much for you and you feel pain that brings tears to your eyes again. Tears roll down your face as you realize that all you can do is submit. Your outcry echoes through your chambers. But Daemon thrusts even harder, almost as if driven by your tears and whimpers. The bed creaks violently with each thrust.

He is silent as he penetrates you deeper and deeper with each thrust. His hand is still on your neck, fingers gripping tightly as he brings you closer to unconsciousness.

"Poor sweet daughter of the king," he whispers in your ear. "A princess's life is never what it should be."

He pulls you closer to him, your lips almost touching, a sob escapes you.

"No one will know, sweet niece…," he whispers almost gently. But his whisper is followed by a deep thrust, "But I love this," Daemon suddenly hisses.

His hand grips tighter, while the other claws firmly into the sheets, just below your back, as if seeking support.

"I love hearing you whimper. I love hearing your cries of pain..." he grunts.

He thrusts harder, grunts louder and suddenly you feel a warmth inside you that you don't want to feel. Your thighs begin to tremble. A moan wants to push through your lips, but you bite down hard on them. But Daemon senses that your climax is near, as your cunt begins to clench around his cock.

"Filthy whore..." Daemon grunts. But again a grin appears on his face.

He thrusts harder and you squirm, trying to escape him, trying not to feel this pleasure.

"You poor sweet innocent niece. Why do you have to pretend you don't like it?" you hear him say, the smirk never leaving his face.

You feel him deep inside you with every thrust. His breathing only a panting, but he does not let up.

You feel that you can't stop it, you're about to come.

"Noooo...", you cry out, "I hate it," you whimper.

But Daemon only grunts loudly as he thrusts violently and repeatedly. His hand squeezes your throat tightly, his knees press against your thighs to open them even wider, to thrust even deeper. With each thrust he pushes against your womb and you can't help but cry out.

He leans even closer to you and whispers in your ear.

"You love this, sweet niece. You love the way I take you. You love the way it hurts," he whispers almost gently. But his thrusts make it clear that he is anything but gentle.

"No..." you cry out again.

But then your eyes roll into the back of your head. You feel the heat spreading through your abdomen and you come, moaning involuntarily. Your cunt clenches hard around his cock and literally pulls him in even deeper.

Daemon can't hold it in anymore, groaning loudly and squirting his hot seed deep inside you. He breathes heavily and his hips try to keep thrusting, but they start to get sloppy.

You feel the warm white liquid fill you and with his slow thrusts he prevents the seed from leaking out again. Breathing heavily, you look at your uncle, not daring to speak. Your bodies covered in sweat, your womb filled with his seed.

He looks at you viciously and leans forward, "And when you wake up tomorrow, you'll think it was all a dream... or maybe even a nightmare," his soft whisper rings out.

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