#man his return is gonna be wild

[kaontic]

Alright, lemme get this straight.

We got the gleeful psychopath:

Monotone psychopath:

Sadistic psychopath:

And Megatron:

No really, it does.

[screampied]

oh my godddd I need choso with a breeding kink

choso and his breeding kink ★

warnings. fem! reader, breeding kink, unprotected, p i v, praise, whiny pussydrunk choso, manhandling, mdni.

you let choso shoot into you raw once, just once and he becomes addicted immediately,

it drives him wild, the feeling of goopy amounts of viscous cum pouring into you every few seconds makes his mouth water tremendously with shaky hands glued to your hips, a sweetened mewl slides out of his lips. “ohh, ‘m c-cummin’ again,” and he dryly laughs to hide his whiny moan that were trying to escape from his compressing lips. despite his voice faltering on its own, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. you lay underneath him, an ankle of yours rubbing down his back. you felt his tense muscles and its warmth grazing against your skin. “mhm, ‘s good for me—more please,” he pleads, leaning in to suck against your neck. a few strands of his hair that was naturally down tickles against your cheek. speaking of strands, a few strands stick against his own forehead as he slows his pace. it’s so much dribbling into you before a little trail of his syrupy seed starts to run its way down your left thigh. “i- i’m gonna get you pregnant, baby. i jus’ wanna make a mess out of you. make a mess outta my pretty girl.”

“you love saying that, hm?” you stroke his cheek, panting breaths departing from your lips before you arch forward.

choso was infertile—being a half human half curse, you weren’t sure if he could actually even get you pregnant but he’s always dreamt of the idea. the thought of you walking around with a rounded, swollen tummy has him nearly drooling into your collarbone. baring a fang into the crook of your neck, his sucking intensifies—you’re so full. he only gives you a silent nod, nibbling his teeth into your skin as he’s still got you stuffed full of cock. “how many babies this time?”

“m- maybe um,” he breaks away to stare into your eyes once more.

choso was sweating, a nice glossing sheet of sweat paints against his flushed face before he gulps at your direct eye contact. prying your thighs open just a bit more to stare at the volumes of cum spilling out of your cunt and onto the sheets, he sighs. “wanna give you twins.”

“. . . oh,” you tease, feeling his warm weight press against your entire body. the heat of each body makes his cravings escalate further. he wants you so bad. choso knew you were teasing from your tone alone but still, he furrowed his darkened brows.

as his dick curls into your gummy, gripping walls that forevermore clung onto him tightly, he whines. “oh? oh— what? is that not enough?”

“i was thinking more like . . five, baby,” you whisper against his ear.

whilst you’re still laid flat against your back, feeling his smooth tempo pick up again, a moan almost drags out of your throat. choso always knew how to make you feel good, vice versa. your breaths were so quickened irregular, it’s as if you’d return from a midnight job. with the back of your foot playfully slides down his stiff back muscles, you cup his chin. “maybe six . . or seven, eight . . ”

“s-so basically, you want an entire family,” he whimpers, a mere smile forming onto his lips.

within a few positions, it was safe to say choso was already pussy-drunk. you had him right where you wanted, and once he saw your nod at his question, he only moans into your neck. “okay, i’ll try. gonna try my best for you,” and a flat palm of his circles against your bare stomach. “and this pretty tummy. ‘s gonna be so full when ‘m done.”

choso was a man who never went back on his word.

he says he’s gonna breed you and that’s exactly what he does—

there was simply no sugarcoating it. it’s been about a plethora of positions and as promised, you were filled to the utmost brim with his cum. choso loves more than anything to have you in missionary. he wants to hold your face as he’s fucking his cum back into you.

a pout spreads against his lips as he feels the slippery slope of his own seed pour its way out of your cunt. he wants you to savor it. it drives him mad—with your legs wrapping around his waist, the desire to give you more of him only increases.

“ugh, ‘s good. you’re gonna be so full. take more, pretty please. saved so much for you,” and he’s just babbling.

it’s cute—he’s whimpering sweet nothings against your skin as he’s languidly swinging his hips into your very core. it’s sloppy, yet it feels almost blissful—each time he finishes inside it literally takes his breath away. chills roam all through his spine as he’s dumping such velvety amounts of cum into you. choso bites his lip at the sudden waves of electricity coursing through his veins. he has a bit of a short circuit and it’s cute. with blow irises, he gasps before making a cute attempt to kiss you, but in reality he’s just sucking on your bottom lip. “take it, t- take it, gimme a baby.”

and his words were raspy, yet his tone was whiny. his head’s spinning but he wants more. choso’s so in love, in love with love, in love with you.

“kiss me, ‘cho.” you mewl out breathlessly, moving a few strands out of his face. once he heard you said that, you didn’t have to tell him twice.

a thumb of yours massage against the bridge of his nose, tickling against the scar before you drag him into your lips. choso loudly moans into your mouth as his thrusts become more precise and slow. you glue against him so good that it’s just carnally lustful..

his hips twitch against your own as he’s shoving his own spilling cum right into your cunt. you’re sopping already, a few creamy droplets already start to rundown your thighs as you cling onto him tightly.

“mhm, i love you. i love you s’much, gonna be such a good mommy,” he whines, resuming to babble between kisses.

mwah after mwah . .

with hooded eyes, and a sheepish little grin, he gazes at your after glow. so pretty, saliva cobwebs string out of your mouth as he breaks away only to kiss you again. a hand still rubs against your tummy before it’s his turn to cup your chin. “p- princess,” he breathes in a raspy way. a tongue swipes its way against your bottom lip. his dick was still inside, idle and not moving—yet it’s just plugging feverish excess amounts of cum into you.

“yes baby.” you stare right back into his eyes, a thumb gliding against his flushed cheeks.

“i- i love you,” he whines, his heart melting from the softness of your touch. you bring a hand of his towards your mouth to kiss it. “i love you but- but ‘m not done. need to fill you some more,” and you gasp once he flips you over, making you get on all fours. “i wanna love you more, especially from behind, h-heh.”

[chilumi-shipper]

A prompt came into mind.. up to you if you're interested.

So, character and reader got married but character cheated because he said he doesn't love the reader anymore. They're technically done, but haven't finished doing the divorce files (because it's expensive and takes a long long time). But.. character got into an accident.. which made him forget everything that happened recently, and only remember the days he loved the reader. Reader's conflicted, the mistress that character has doesn't know what to do either. Character was confused on why he would marry anyone else when he has the reader fo begin with.

I think this fits your styles.

Btw, I LOVE ALL YOUR STORIES! I RE-READ THEM EVERYDAY-

Someone Better

Childe x Fem!Reader

Summary: Childe was a wild spirit, so when he got bored of your relationship, he sought the excitement of another woman. You were heartbroken, ultimately asking for a divorce. But just as your connection was almost severed, he got into an accident, losing every memory of his infidelity and returning to the man that made you fall in love him.

Tags: Cheating, Amnesia, Pining, Angst/No Comfort

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You were staring at the tremendous amount of divorce paperwork sitting on the desk of your hotel room.

It was very complicated, five years of marriage with joined insurance, property, bank accounts, and now you have to meticulously separate all your joined assets, all while constantly on the verge of a breakdown.

Not to mention you had no family to stay with in Snezhnaya. There's absolutely no one you could talk to about everything, you've left your homeland thinking your future in the cold nation with the love of your life would be nothing less that fantasy.

As you rest your head on the desk and closed your eyes tightly to ease the headache, your ears perk up as loud knocks hit your door.

With a groan, you got up and opened it to reveal your two of Childe's older siblings.

"He's looking for you." The older sister said, Alevtina, her seriousness evident, looking at you somewhat panicked.

"I know, big si-" I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. "I'm working on the assets, I'll send it as soon as possible."

"No." The chilly tone of the older brother, Alexei, sent shivers down your spine. "You need to come with us."

...

"Big sister Y/N is here?" You hear Teucer's innocent voice as you enter their home. The younger children laid their eyes on you, seemingly eager to come closer, but perhaps they've been told that now would not be the time.

"Honey... Thank you for coming..." Their mother embraced you warmly, still accepting you with motherly affection. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry..."

"Mama, has he calmed down?" Alexei asked from behind you.

Your mother-in-law parts from you slightly, looking at you tenderly. "She will definitely help."

You put your confusion and questions aside, seeing the somewhat tense air within the house.

"Stop staring." You weren't looking at him, but you felt his eyes watching you set down a tray of soup and medicine on his bedside table.

Childe lets out a chuckle. "Sorry, love, I can't help it..." His eyes never faltered, containing a look of admiration that you've been unfamiliar with for so long.

"After the avalanche, I got a pretty bad head injury. When I woke up, you were the first thing on my mind. And when Mama said you weren't here with me, I freaked out."

You sat down on a chair next to his bed, your eyes observing the bandages wrapped around his head. "What did the doctor say about your injury?"

"I'm gonna get some very bad headaches, and I also got a bit of amnesia, I think." Childe looks as if he's in thought. "Do I seem like I forgot something?"

"Maybe some things..."

"But I love you just the same! So I bet what I forgot wasn't even that important!"

...How cruel.

Having to take care of the man that broke you apart, even worse, a version of him that you loved too much to despise.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It was painful, staying with him.

Childe would keep you close, call you his different pet names, cuddle up to you, all while you were under the pitiful gaze of his family that knew of his infidelity.

On the other hand, he's been feeling the cold responses his advances have been receiving. But to him, he thinks he can solve it by smothering you in more of his love.

He is pretty observant, he's put it two in two together that he may be missing a memory in which he had done something wrong. He just didn't know how much it had hurt.

Though, not only from you, Childe had also felt that his younger siblings seem distant as well, no longer asking him to play snow games outside, or looking up to him as some sort of hero.

One early morning, when he walks up to the kitchen to see you cooking for the whole family, a smile formed on his face.

He steps closer, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. "Hmmm... Morning, honey..." He basks in the feeling of you.

You remain quiet, letting him do as he pleases. The ginger frowns, however, feeling unsatisfied by your lack of reaction.

"Babyyyy... Loveee meee backkkk..." He whines, nuzzling his face on your neck.

"Ajax, come on..." You stifled a laugh, moving slightly away as his action tickled you. He hears the slight giggle of your words, smiling against your skin.

You compose yourself, pushing him away from you. "Stop." He lets you push him away, and you feel him freeze slightly at the harshness of your tone.

His blue eyes looked at you worried. "...Hey," He starts. "I'm sorry, darling, did you not like that?"

With a sigh, you looked down. "When the others wake up, tell them I already made breakfast. I have somewhere to be."

You walk pass him, but you did not miss the hurt tone of the faint call of your name.

...

You come back to his family's home after doing some more paperwork for the divorce that your husband doesn't even remember, feeling your head pounding as you ready yourself to face him again.

What you don't expect to see this late at night is Childe sitting on the porch with a lantern next to him, his head hung low as if he's thinking deeply.

"Childe?"

He looks up, but he frowns at you. "Ajax, darling..." He reminds you.

Standing up, he pulls you into his warm embrace. "I love you... I missed you..."

His words take you aback, as you reluctantly wrap your arms around him.

"I've been thinking about this morning, about you. You hate me."

"I know I must've done something... you can tell me." He kneels in front of you, staring at your eyes while his sparkle with the light of the lantern. "And even if I don't remember, I'll make it right..."

As you look down at him, you see the fiery passion of love that burned in his eyes as he knelt down to ask you to marry him so long ago.

It scares you...

You might not be able to control yourself...

"It's just hard to take care of you sometimes." You smile ever so slightly, yet his frown only deepens as tears start to escape your eyes.

He stands, his hand finds its way to your cheek. "Love..." His eyes held such conviction that you've not seen for years. "I'm so sorry..."

You close your eyes to hold in the tears, shaking your head and swaying his hand away. "...You're not."

Despite the tears, you tug at his arm. "Come on, let's head inside."

He's filled with questions, but seeing your sad face makes him set all those aside and focus on you for now.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Teucer, hey, little man." Childe calls for his little brother.

The little boy looks at him wide eyed. "I don't want to talk to you." He crossed his little arms, turning around to leave with a displeased look.

"What...? Oh come on..." The harbinger pouted, getting down on his little brother's level. "What did I do wrong...? All our siblings are acting so mean to me..." He whined, frowning as he tries to persuade the little ginger.

"But you were also very very mean!" Teucer refused to look at his older brother, the one he used to look up to the most. "We don't like you anymore!"

Childe's playful facade faded as his expression contorted to a confused one. "Hey, what do you mean...?"

"You're so mean to Y/N, you hurt her! She doesn't deserve tha-"

"Teucer!" Just as his brother erupted to a crying mess, screaming at him with all his little heart, their mother walked into the room, grabbing the little boy.

"Don't talk like that to your elders!"

"But it's true, Mama!"

"That doesn't matter, say sorry to-"

"What does he mean, Mama? Why did I do?" Childe looked at his mother expectantly, his voice starting to shake as he saw the fit of rage Teucer had because of him. "W-What did I do to Y/N?"

HIs mother shook her head, trying to ease her expression with a smile. "Nothing..."

"It's not nothing, Mama!" He raises his voice by accident due to his frustration. "I see it, the way she looks at me, it's different. The way you all look at me, like you have a monster inside your house."

Teucer forced his way out of his mother's hold, running to his older siblings room all teary eyed. Childe felt bad, but he desperately needed answers from his mother.

"Mama, please, I need to know why Y/N doesn't... love me anymore..." It hurts him to say, but based on the way you're acting, he could only make the assumption that your feelings have wavered.

"Oh, Ajax... it's not like that..."

The ginger then felt a sharp pain in his head, making him fall down onto the couch. He groaned as he clutched his head.

"Hey... where are you heading off to so late at night?" He hears your soft voice in a static audio playing in his head.

"Out." He then hears himself replying coldly.

"Ohh, when will you-"

He's out the door before you could even finish your question.

"Ajax, honey!' His mother's voice was a hazy blur as he keeps his eyes closed to envision what he's hearing in his head.

He tries to shake the feeling away, but his mind is flooded by fragmented memories.

"You've been going out a lot more recently." Your concerned voice entered his ears.

"I've been busy."

"Busy where?"

He then hears shatters of glass and yells as you sob while trying to talk to him.

He pictures your face, your crying, begging face, asking for some sort of salvation from his cold and merciless actions.

"T-There's someone else?"

"Someone better."

"H-How could y-you do this?"

"When I look at you now... I feel... nothing."

Childe opened his eyes, not realizing that tears had started to flow to his cheeks. "Mama..."

"Y-Yes, dear?"

"I hurt her..." He was in a state of disbelief. "I-I... Why...?"

His tears fell faster, looking at his mother for answers. "W-Why, Mama? Why was I so stupid? Why did I choose to lose her?"

"I don't know, dear, but that's simply what happened, and you could never make her forget that, even if you forgot."

His breathing started to accelerate, feeling like he wanted to punch himself. As his head started spinning, his vision turns black.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You took a deep breath as you walked into the house, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you entered.

"Honey..." Your ex mother-in-law embraces you once again, holding you tight. "I'm so sorry... I didn't want to make it difficult for you..."

"N-No, no..." You returned her hug, sniffling as you start to tear up. "I readied myself for this, I'm just here to drop off the final papers..."

"Could you talk to him?" Alevtina suddenly asked, looking at you hesitantly. "I know he's been a jerk... but he won't eat unless he talks to you."

You parted from their mother, feeling the pressure of their request.

"It's okay to curse him, or to scream, or rough him up, I'll even help you." Alexei placed his hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

You nodded, sighing as they guided you to his room. And as you entered with a heavy feeling in your chest, he immediately sat up, alerted by your presence. You stare at each other for a bit before you muttered a word.

"Hi." You greeted him shortly.

"Hey..." His voice was soft, and his eyes followed you attentively.

"I'm sorry to intrude, I'll make this quick." You breathe deeply, trying to relax yourself. "I finished the papers, split the assets, got the lawyers."

"I talked to her, y-your woman..." You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. Childe seemed unfazed by it, though his gaze seem to falter at the mention of 'his woman'.

"She... umm... wasn't really interested anymore after the accident..." You breathe heavily, feeling small under his gaze. "But... your family's here to take care of you..."

Clearing your throat, you continued. "I do have one request, if I could... I would like a safe boat ride back home." You stepped closer, intending to hand him the envelope that contained all the paperwork to finalize your divorce.

"Take it all." You stopped in your tracks as he spoke.

"The house, the mora, the boat. It's all yours..." He lays back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Would you also do me a favor?"

You looked at him, encouraging him to speak.

"Carve my heart out and take it with you."

"...Can we be serious for a second?" You sighed.

"I would like to stay with you. I think that would be a good way to do it without constantly wanting to punch myself." You noticed that his eyes started to flood with tears.

"Ajax... I'm sorry this happened to you..."

"No, Y/N, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything." He sat up again, tears falling from his eyes as he looks up at you with genuine eyes. "I don't know why I did that. And I... I regret it so much..." He reached for your hand, and you let him hold onto you for strength.

"Every tear I had in me I already cried when you left me for her." You smiled bitterly, though you remained soft, making him even more guilty as you try to stay strong. "But I appreciate the apology..."

You pull your hand away from him slowly, feeling that he was reluctant to let go.

"I-I still love you..."

You gave him a final smile. "You'll love someone better than me... Childe..." You back away, leaving him alone in his room still yearning for the days where his memory only consisted of loving you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Hiiii again after quite a while! I think I've been noticing that my recent fics have been angst, I guess I just feel like hurting you guys this season of giving (I give pain :D)

Anywayy, anon, I think at some point I went my own direction and didn't fully stick to your request (I'm sorryyy TvT) but I hope you like it anyway!

[luveline]

I would love to do a request if you would like! Some sort of Spencer Reid x Reader where the reader is super bad ass, tough, doesn’t show much emotion is kind of cold to others but has the biggest soft spot for Spencer!! 🫶🏻

thanks for your request lovey, I would love to write more of this pairing if you have any more requests ♡ fem!reader

"Here comes the ice queen," Morgan mutters, turning his chair away from the walkway. 

You walk down the steps from Hotch's office. Whether you were praised or reprimanded is anybody's guess —your face never gives anything away. Spencer doesn't necessarily agree with the way Morgan's categorised you, but he isn't wrong either. You're like Hotch in temperament, if Hotch were soft on only Spencer. 

That might have something to do with why Spencer won't call you cold. You're never cold with him. 

"What did boss man want?" Morgan asks. 

"If it were your business, Morgan, I'm sure you'd already know." You don't say it spitefully, but it's far from a warm answer.

Spencer honestly asks just to piss Morgan off, "Everything okay?" 

You visibly soften. Walking past Morgan without notice, you pause by Spencer's desk, your voice quieter, gentler. "Don't worry, Spence, everything's fine. You still reading that book about sex crimes in Arizona?" 

"I finished it. Doesn't take long." 

"No, you're fast," you agree. "What are you gonna read next?" 

It's amazing how swiftly you shift gears. Your body language totally changes, your shoulders slouching toward him, your hand open and resting on the back of his chair as if you might touch his hair. Morgan shoots Reid a look that says, What is happening right now?

"I was thinking about reading up on the Milk Killer, from 1954. He tried to give his victims blood transfusions high in lactose in an attempt to cure intolerance." 

Even Spencer admits that that sounds boring, but your face lights up with genuine interest. "That could be good. You'll have to tell me how it goes." 

"Sure." Spencer squints at you. "You have something on your face." 

"Yeah?" you ask, and Morgan goes wild behind you, dipping back in his chair in disbelief at your breathless tone. "What is it? Can you get it for me?" 

You bend a little and Spencer wipes the lint from your face sweetly. He wonders if he should be blushing, your affection for him as clear as it is, but for once, Spencer Reid feels smug. He can melt someone that Morgan can't. "All gone," he says. Smugness aside, you're a friend (and maybe a little more than that).

"Thanks, Spence," you say, popping a kiss against his cheek. "You saved me from embarrassing myself." 

Morgan clears his throat. You barely move, your hands twisting behind your back. "Hey, lovergirl," he says, making himself heard. 

"What, Morgan?" you ask, finally looking away from Spencer's pinking cheeks. 

"You have something," he says, pointing at the corner of his mouth. 

"So?" you ask indifferently. You turn back to Spencer as though nothing occurred. "Do you want to go to the movies again this weekend? They're playing a silent film. I think you'll like it." 

Spencer smiles genuinely. It's not his main concern, but it's definitely an added bonus to hear Morgan's sighed, "Are you kidding?" as he nods vehemently. 

"I'd love to," Spencer says. 

"Okay. It's a date," you say, smiling at him so nicely it feels like he can't breathe. 

"What's a date?" Emily asks as she returns from the kitchenette, eyebrows jumping. 

"It's a marker used to denote the day or month within a year," you say primly. "I have to go make copies for Hotch." 

You don't say goodbye. Morgan likes you, really, in the same way you like Morgan, so he gives Spencer a dazed look followed by a small smile. "Good luck with that." 

Spencer looks over his shoulder to follow your figure as you carry a box of reports to the photocopier. "I don't think I need luck," he murmurs. You glare at the copier, clicking one of its buttons aggressively. "She's nicer than you guys think." 

"Sure."

[rafesplaymate]

https://www.tumblr.com/rafesfavbimbo/759916281819430913/writing-rafe-cheating-on-sofia-with-reader-is-so

Okay so what about where the reader and rafe are bestfriends and they had a fwb thing going on but then rafe started dating sofia and you can spin it how u want the cheating thing to go

FWB!Rafe Cameron x FWB!Reader

˖₊⊹ ᡣ𐭩 navigation. ˖₊⊹ ᡣ𐭩 masterlist ˖₊⊹ ᡣ𐭩 series masterlist

warnings: cheating (sort of?) angst. verbal insults. dark themes / adult content.

a/n: ooo yes i love this. gonna make this angsty!

˖₊⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ˖₊⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ˖₊⊹

Y/n has never felt so betrayed in her life. Rafe was the one thing, the one person she’s ever felt that was hers in life. Someone who understood her in so many ways and never judged her for not being a perfect person because he himself was far from it. Someone she’s spent so many days with talking about anything and everything. She knew everything about him and he knew everything about her. Not only do they know the ins-and-outs of each other’s minds they know the ins-and-outs of each other’s bodies.

It didn’t take long into their friendship to start fucking each other. They were both hot, wild and had a chemistry that was unmatched by anyone else. The Kook princess of Kildare and the Kook prince who was always by her side. So many nights spent tangled in each others arms and sheets. So many moments of sneaking away or spending hours taking each other apart till they were both left panting, bodies shaking and limp. Falling asleep in each other’s arms or even Rafe falling asleep while still inside her. So many times of her prancing around his yacht and home naked until he threw her over his shoulder and took her to where he wanted to ravage her. She’s met no man like Rafe Cameron and no man has invaded her mind, heart, soul and body like him. And she was sure it was the same way he felt about her. So why the fuck is her Rafe wrapped up in some slum, pogue girls attention? Not even noticing his best friend standing in front of him in the prettiest outfit, heels and jewelry. Hair done perfectly and makeup flawless as her perfect body shimmered with body glitter. Stunning figure on display and the only thing souring her beauty was the look of hurt surprise on her face.

Why the fuck was the country club worker who she knows her as, sitting in her spot. Right next to Rafe and nuzzled into his side with sparkles in her eyes that Rafe seemed to be returning as he looked down at her. Y/n’s heart breaking more by the second and soul deflating as she stood there going unnoticed by the one person who always noticed her. Her efforts all for him being completely disregarded for this boring fucking girl.

Y/n’s eyes almost began to tear up as she stood there staring at Rafe from the entrance to the balcony deemed the ‘VIP’ area by Rafe whenever he threw a grand party, such as now. Y/n ready to take her usual spot which is now resided by her…Sofia. The fucking country club girl. Y/n stood there watching them wrapped up in each other until Barry looked up from racking up a line, gold tooth gleaming as he shot her a smile. Taking notice of where her gaze fell and immediately knowing exactly what had her beautiful face in that displeased scowl.

Barry let out a low whistle, running his gaze over her stunning figure and face. Taking in the pretty get up and flawless makeup she was wearing. Which he knew she did just for Rafe, who he can’t believe is fumbling the finest girl on the island for some boring pogue not even he would turn to notice. “Ain’tcha a sight for sore eyes sweetheart,” he spoke up, watching as her stunned gaze moved to his and holding it. No energy in her body to give him a smile or accept his compliment from the shattering in her chest. Rafe and Sofia finally noticing her as they turned to look at her. Rafe giving her a warm smile as if he didn’t just break her soul and Sofia sizing her up while nuzzling deeper into Rafe’s side. Feeling like she’s won because she managed to snatch his attention away from his gorgeous best friend. Big ego boost for her.

Y/n didn’t say anything, saddened smile turning into a an angry gaze as Rafe greeted her and motioned her to sit next to Barry with a quick “sit down, want you to meet Sofia officially.” Moving her aside as if she was nothing and so quickly replaced by someone like fucking Sofia. Tears began to quickly build up in her beautiful eyes and run down her cheeks, still not making an effort to speak. She didn’t know how she could with the ache in her chest. The way Rafe so easily disregarded her and tossed her to the side. Expecting her to sit by Barry? When her spot is next to Rafe, always by his side. Until now, so easily replaced.

Y/n turned around and stormed away, her heels clacking with each quick step as she held in the sob forming deep in her chest. Rafe’s brows furrowing in concern and confusion as he shot up quickly and ran after her shouting her name. Barry giving a dry laugh of sarcasm and Sofia left smirking as she felt she had won. Barry only gave her a quick side eye of disdain, shaking his head as he mumbled a quick “dumb fuck.” Hoping Sofia heard it, although it was meant for Rafe.

“Y/n!” Rafe shouted, running down the stairs as she slammed the glass door behind her and ran forward to her car. Ignoring his calls of her name and fumbling in her handbag for her keys while she wiped the tears off her cheeks. Cursing to herself when she took too long to find them and finally grabbing them, unlocking the car and just about ready to open her door when she felt a large hand grip her upper arm. Turning her around and pinning her to the car with his arms on both sides of her; locking her in. Y/n whimpered just from feeling his touch and smelling his cologne. “What the fuck is your problem?” He questioned her gruffly, grabbing her chin to turn her face to his when she refused to make eye contact. Meeting her pretty eyes as tears fell down her cheeks, more welling up quickly when she looked into those cobalt eyes she loved so much.

“Whats wrong? Why are you crying, huh?” He continued to push her, genuinely confused as to why she was emotional and ran out the way she did. Her heart cracking more at that. He didn’t love her the way she thought. “How could you?” She finally spoke up, voice gritty with emotion. Face hardening as they stared into each other’s eyes. “How could I what? What are you talking about?” He pushed her again, feeling her manicured hands slide in between their bodies as she began to push against his chest with force.

“How could you bring her here, huh? An-and then to let her take my place? How could you?!” She sobbed harder, beautiful makeup now ruined by her grief. Rafe’s mind finally clicking. Scoffing and pushing away from her as he looked at her like she was crazy. “How could I what? Bring a girl around?” he said with attitude, crossing his arms against his chest as he stared her down. “Hate to be the one to break it to you, y/n. But you’re not my girlfriend. We’re friends.” He spoke coldly, rolling his eyes and looking to the side while her spirit broke even more. Keeping quiet as he turned to look at her again, no warmth in his eyes.

“Had I known me fucking you would get you so attached, I would have never made the mistake. You’re not my fucking girlfriend, y/n. I can bring whoever I want to my home and stick my dick wherever I want. If you can’t handle that this was casual then I don’t know what to tell you, not my fucking problem. Now you can either clean yourself up and enjoy this great party or you can leave. You’re killing my fucking mood.” And with that he backed away slowly, staring her down. Watching the light die out in her eyes as he finally turned around and marched into his house. Slamming the glass door behind him. A physical representation of shutting her out.

Y/n quickly got into her car, sobbing into her hands as she took in his words and let herself feel the hurt they caused. Not even knowing how she drove home with all the grief and heartache pouring out of her body. Running into her house and straight to her room as soon as she parked. Immediately ripping the pictures she had of both of them plastered on her walls and taking the framed picture she had of them and smashing it on the ground, watching as it shattered. Stomping on it with her heel for extra measure. She sat down on the edge of her bed and stared at her pink wall as she thought one thing to herself.

If Rafe wanted to act that way with her. Act like they didn’t have a connection that ran deeper than casual sex then so be it. She wouldn’t mope around and act like a little bitch over him. She wouldn’t let him win, even if her soul was shattered and her heart stomped on by him; she wouldn’t go down. If there was one thing she knew is that yes she loved Rafe Cameron, but she loved herself more. And she wasn’t going to let him ruin her. He’d regret the day he ever spoke to her or treated her with such little regard. One thing that connected them to each other is Rafe Cameron could be a real asshole. But she could be a real fucking cunt and he was gonna know that side of her. Always on the opposite spectrum of her attitude. But now, any warmth she felt for him dissipating. She was going to bounce back and leave him the the dust. Fuck Sofia, fuck feelings and most of all fuck Rafe Cameron.

˖₊⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ˖₊⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ˖₊⊹

a/n: idk about yall but when men do me dirty i don’t get sad… i get even!

[astralis-ortus]

sunday, sunday, sunday

✱ husband!bc × fem!reader

— now, and every sundays to ever come. i want to spend them all with you.

w.count ��� 1.1k genre → fluff, fluff, fluff. just tooth rotting fluff. warnings → very minor cussing (just once)(atp cussing is a given lol), kissing, time jump (twice), chan referred to as chris a.n → blame the man for putting the idea in my head like what can i do??? his insta post??? hello??? not to mention his song recommendation while i was writing this??? laufey's like the movies??? what??? he wants me dead atp<////3 ⋆ see masterlist

it’s sunday.

to be fair, it has been sunday since the moment chris’ eyes flew open a few hours ago. it’s sunday when he got ready, it’s sunday when he got his light makeup and hair settled, it is sunday when he finally wore the crisp tailored suit that has been turning his heart into the loudest marching band ensemble he’d ever known.

but to be fair,

it’s not just any sunday.

“bring those shoulders down, hyung. you’re gonna get cramps at this point.”

“oh shut up,” chris groaned, feeling more embarrassed about the fact that he got caught more than the fact that his nerves are firing non-stop at an untraceable rate. “just take the pictures, felix.”

albeit rolling his eyes at chris’ rather feisty comment, it was proven impossible to wipe the cheeky grin off the younger’s clearly ecstatic face. after all, it’s a monumental day in chris’ life—and he’s very honored the older trusted his (and technically hyunjin’s) skills to capture the day’s earlier moments.

“see? that’s already all better,” felix cheerily quipped, snapping several pictures as soon as he caught a glimpse of chris fixing his posture. besides, a little movement here and there does make the picture come out a lot more natural, which was the one thing you repeatedly told him (and hyunjin) as something you wanted to see most in the final cuts.

you.

the mere thought of you was enough to melt the remaining stillness present in chris’ face.

it has been a wild few months; meetings after meetings, fittings after fittings, testing, changes in plans, some other minor revisions, checklist, checklist, checklist. chris was justifiably spent, and so were you. there were arguments (you refused to call them fights, knock on wood), there were a couple of shed tears (out of frustration, of course), there were a few hours of leaving each other on read (justifiably so, considering both of you are quite the stubborn pair), but there were also a lot of make-up dates, plenty of exchanged giggles of excitement, and bountiful of prayers for the days to come.

those days have been wild, and this sunday will begin to prove that every second of it was worthwhile.

“chris hyung!”

woken up from his trance, the glint on chris’ eyes finally returned as he found hyunjin’s head peeking from inside the room—the one he’d been waiting on for the past 10 minutes while his head was busy creating bits and pieces for his life montage.

“ready to see your bride?” asked the younger, grin replicating the ones felix is sporting behind his lenses.

am i ready?

palms running over the fabric of his carefully crafted suit, ones you finally chose after debating over a dozen others you deem was ‘not grand enough for someone about to spend the rest of my life with’, chris took one final breath.

“ready.”

it’s sunday.

it’s been exactly a week since your wedding day, and you finally got your hand on the stack of developed pictures courtesy to your now-husband’s talented teammates. originally, you wanted to take part in picking the films, but the duo was pretty convincing when they said waiting for their pick would make a good little surprise to enjoy on your honeymoon trip.

“come on,” chris beckoned, curls framing his beautiful face while his hand motioned to the empty spot next to him on the bed; one you just left after a call from the front desk informing you about the tiny package under your husband’s name. “let’s see how hyunjin did at taking your pictures.”

“and felix at yours,” you added with a grin, swiftly claiming your throne while your fingers were busy ripping open the brown envelope. “i want to see my husband as much as you wanted to see your wife, you know. not to mention, that suit was absolutely perfect on you.”

“not again,” his defeated giggles has been chris’ way to answer to your every compliment on his look since the day of your wedding. “you need to stop that before my head blows up to the size of a hot air balloon, my love.”

“well,” you shrugged, finally getting your hand on the stack of pictures before then snuggling right into the warmth of chris’ arms, “have you ever thought about trying not to be so hot all the da-“

and of course, stealing kisses has also been his alternative should you continue to run your mouth and try to turn him into a blushing mess.

as if that’s not exactly the reason why you kept up with the praises.

“can we start looking at the pictures,” he muttered over your lips, evidently smiling as his lips brushed against yours, “or do i still need to shut you up?”

you hummed, letting the warmth of his skin hover over your face before your lips captured his in a quick peck, “pictures. need to see my cool husband.”

the way his laugh reverberates against his chest never fails to warm you up.

“okay, picture it is then.”

it’s sunday.

you didn’t expect moving to be this hard—sure, you’ve been living together with chris even before you two got married, but had you really been accumulating that many stuffs?

“fuck—i think it’s not the right screw,” your husband’s mutters forces your line of sight to gravitate towards his hunched figure, still hovering over the half-built shelf on the floor of your living room.

“you reckon it should still stick out this much?” he questioned, beckoning you to look at the silver piece, sticking out like a sore thumb. “no, right?”

“think not,” you huffed, crouching next to chris to look at the scattered pieces around him, “was this all? did they send the wrong one?”

chris groaned in defeat, deciding to lean onto your warmth instead of voicing his answer. maybe building your own furniture was not exactly a good idea to spend your first weekend home after your honeymoon trip.

treading your fingers through his soft curls, you then came up with a suggestion, “i’ll get you a pineapple juice then we’ll figure it out together, yeah?”

and it sure perked him right up.

looking at you with sparkles lighting up in his eyes, it felt right—it felt like even through the worst sundays, chris would still be the there to welcome you home.

“thank you,” he grinned—the boyish kind. the one that made you feel like a swarm of butterflies, one that gets you blushing like a schoolgirl in front of her first ever crush. his lips then found its home on the bare of your thigh, printing a quick kiss on the surface, “you’re the best.”

“mm, i know,” you answered with a giggle, feeling the warmth breaking through your skin before returning the kiss on his plump lips while feigning ignorance to the way your heartbeat grew louder by the second.

“you’re still the bestest of the best, though. can’t beat you.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[kari-sims]

Tomiko Moriyama (she/they) as my entry for the Total Drama Sims season 3 by @jonquilyst!! (thanks for letting me participate <3)

also huge wall of slightly amusing text below the cut (you've been warned!) cause i was caffeinated and ended up having some fun with this ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

👩 Age: 14 🪐 Lives in: Strangerville 🐛 Goals in life: to open a bug museum 💖 Orientation: thinks girls are cute, but doesn't want to waste their short teen years chasing them around (that's what the 20's are for!) 🎶 Hidden talent: encyclopedic knowledge of kpop girl group's songs and dances 🥇 Honorable titles: -> 'Mighty Collector of the Fun Hats' -> 'Prestigious Ambassador' at the ''International Bug Diplomacy Federation'' (only actual human member, but it'll grow, just wait!) 👍Likes: iridescent beetles / cut rock hard candy / slippery mud you can draw on / putting googly eyes on random things 👎 Dislikes: homework / cleaning things that'll get dirty again / humans evil bug killing inventions (unless it's a laser shooting death ray gun for mosquitoes, cause yeah, even a bug loving girl hates those bastards!)

[RECORD 434, another sunny day in strange Strangerville]

🔴 ▶ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|•

(sound of someone clearing their throat, followed by what's obviously a kid trying to speak in an exaggerated deep voice)

Tomiko: "Tomiko is a girl who didn't need a home with walls or windows - the roof to her 'home' has always been the sky above." (pauses, mutters to themselves) Ooh that's a good one! Wait, people will think i live in the woods, no? Wouldn't that be the dream…

(moment of silence as Tomiko daydreams, then remembers she just started recording)

"Tomiko doesn't have many friends, because she was destined to be a free-spirited loner. With the exception of Clarisse, a girl who dreams ofbecoming a marine biologist. Clarisse was made fun of by strangers on a dumb internet show she went to one day, all because she wanted to win the money and go on a trip to Sulani. Now everyone calls her the 'Dolphin Girl'. After Tomiko decided to console her at lunch in school, both of them ended up bonding over their crazy obssession with nature. They've been inseparable friends ever since."

(another pause, followed by an audible sigh)

"Well, they were inseparable, until Tomiko moved away. Now Clarisse is being weird for no reason... anyways, where was i?

(forgets why they went on a Clarisse tangent and starts to fumble with their unorganized notes)

"Oh yes, destined to be a free-spirited loner, ya-da ya-da. Unfortunately, Tomiko was forced to live in a boring house made of bricks, with white furniture, and a mom who was always mad about her muddy boots on the carpet."

(voice shifts to mimic the mom's screech)

- I'm not gonna raise a savage wild child! Since you love dirt so much, go live with your bum of a father in that Strangerplace world, or whatever it's called.

"Best thing to ever happen to me!" (voice switches to normal accidentally, then goes back to the fake deep one) - I mean - best thing to ever happen to Tomiko! Even though her dad looks kinda weird lately, walking around aimlessly at night in search of his mother. Classic dad, being a weirdo. No idea how this man got married..."

- Dad, I told you grandma still lives in Willow Creek. Why do you think she's in the middle of the desert? Also, she wouldn't be caught dead wasting away her fabulous heels in this god-forsaken place.

"Tomiko pretends she doesn't see it, because now she can do whatever she wants, why complicate things? The only problem is, there isn't much to do in Strangerville with the infection rumors going on, and all the damn sus soldiers. Also, the taste of travelling for the first time has left her wanting to see more. Imagine all the bugs she could find?! But you need money for that, sooo… what to do, what to do…"

(voice returns to normal, a bit defensive)

"Okay, fine, I'm the one recording this… (sighs) I know what you're thinking - "just steal from your dad!". Seriously, who do you think I am? Anyways, I did something else instead. I heard there's this competition with other teens where you get to travel the world, and guess what? I signed up for it! Without my parents knowing, of course, but that is irrelevant. They won't even notice I'm gone, I fear. I just hope the organizers don't ask for their permission, because Clarisse was the one who knew how to fake signatures, but now she's hanging out with other kids at school, and thinks she's better than me."

(inhales, then proceeds to speak loudly at a wall, probably)

"Like... Nina? The enemy? Be so for real right now Clarisse! My life is just grand without you! I'll get to travel the world and educate people on how bugs are friends, and definitely NOT disgusting or too dangerous! Well, most times. I'll also prove that even if you're a weird bug loving kid like me, you can still have a chance at a game that requires you to make friends. It'll be eaaasy! In a few weeks I'll be like, Clarisse who? Hahah!"

(brief pause on their flex-rant, which is totally NOT a defense mechanism because she's hurt by them growing apart. They return, slightly worried)

"Do you think I can die in there? Cause gosh, let's hope not! Imagine going on an adventure of a lifetime and not being able to tell people about your heroic deeds... that'd be so lame! Anyways, I'll see you when I see you, whoever is listening to this… Tomi out!"

🟥 ▶ •ııııııııııııııııı•

[RECORD ENDS]

wow if you're still here, thanks for reading, you wonderful bean! here, have a cute snail

(´・ᴗ・)>~🐌

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part ten —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 2.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: this chapter kicked my butt. thanks for the patience~

An ear-splitting gunshot bites the ground near your boot, close enough to feel the heat simmer through the worn leather. It takes everything in you not to freeze in terror. You grab Blue and run. 

Adrenaline kicks into high gear once again, but with her dead weight and your lack of strength, you know you can't get far. You manage to tumble behind a stack of rusted bins just as another round fires. 

Blue clings to you. "He's following us!"

Your heart sinks as your fingers reach for your bow— you left it.

"Give me your gun," you sputter quickly.

She shoves the unfamiliar weapon in your hands. A tremble consumes your body as you peek over the barrel to find your target. For a second, you see your attacker as he passes by one of the jeeps. A young man no older than yourself. 

Without hesitation, you close an eye and go for his heart, but the bullet grazes the top of his shoulder with a spray of blood. Used to a bow, you aimed too high.

He barks out a swear and then lifts his rifle in retaliation. Before he can shoot, a Grey bursts through the window of the jeep, clamping down on his neck. His throat turns to gore. The gun falls from his grip as screams of pain quickly turn to muffled groans.

Relief and horror pound through your veins. That was close. Too close. You have to get Blue out of here. But how—

There is no chance to decide. Suddenly, she screams again. You whip around to meet the slash of a long knife and the flush of cold air as your coat is torn. Someone has snuck up behind you. You fumble with the gun but the attacker knocks it out of your hand, then fists your hair hard enough to make your scalp burn. It happens so fast. You can't even get a good look at him— only the wild stare of his eyes and the strength of his stature. Whoever these people are, they are certainly better fed than that man in the woods.

You thrash against him, hurling saliva at his face. Apparently, he didn't expect that because he hisses, "Fuck."

You use the distraction to grab your own knife, the only weapon on you, and blindly drive it into the taut muscle of his thigh. He howls, letting go of your hair, and you slip away just enough to dodge the next swipe of his blade.

The fight is short-lived. You've grown stronger, but not enough to fight a man. He is skilled and bulky. Your attempts to hit him are futile. His knife catches you in the forehead, sending a curtain of blood down your face, and he grabs hold of your hair once again.

"Gonna cut your throat first," he murmurs, low and gravelly. "Then your little lamb's."

He will kill you. Then her. You can't let him. You won't. Something animalistic takes hold of you. You do the only thing left you can think of— bite. Hard. The sickening taste of human flesh and hot blood fills your mouth as you rip out a chunk of his nose.

"You bitch!" 

He clutches his oozing face. Blue shouts at you, her finger jutting toward something— the Grey. Done with its first meal, it draws toward the scent of fresh blood. Before your attacker can recover, you throw all your weight at him, which isn't much, but it is enough to make him lose his footing and veer into the Grey's path. It grabs hold and sinks another bite into his face.

Suddenly, two more gunshots ring out. One to the Grey's head, and the other through the man's eye. Both bodies flop dead to the ground. Before you can panic, a wild-eyed Ghost returns in long strides. 

"Blue!" he bellows. 

"Dad!" she yells back.

He heads straight for her, quickly dipping down to check her bandaged leg and search for any other wounds. Fear has forced her eyes to stay open, her body stiff and alert. There is a wet stain at the crotch of her jeans. 

"They tried to kill us," she cries.

“I'm here, baby. I won't leave you again.”

You wipe the blood off your face and glance around, panting so hard your lungs hurt. The air reeks of carnage and gunpowder, but the firing has ceased. 

"They attacked us," you speak in a raw shout. “Two of them. Did you— Are the rest gone?"

He nods. "Could be more nearby. Let's get out of here before we find out."

He slings the rifle over his shoulder and scoops up Blue without an ounce of the effort it took for you to do so. 

He moves fast. Retrieving your bow, you push hard to keep up with him. 

Twilight tints the sky purple. You make it past the fence and zig-zag through the medical tents when movement catches your eye again.

"Ghost, to the right!" you scream.

You knock an arrow onto the string, aiming for the distant figure. But the movement multiplies, more shadows lurking towards you with uneven gaits. Not people. Greys. The realization forms a pit in your stomach.

"They can fucking smell us," you choke out. 

"Hit the faster ones!"

Arrow after arrow, you aim for the ones that move with the stamina of a more recently infected. To your right. To your left. Ghost carries Blue with one arm and shoots with his handgun. More and more crawl out like cockroaches, no doubt catching a whiff of the blood that stains all three of you. 

Two built like linebackers run wildly up to Ghost from either direction. He shoots one, while the other grabs him by the shoulder. You launch an arrow at its skull, your aim more precise now that you're not shooting bullets, and it lets go of him with a squeal. 

When the trees grow thicker, it becomes harder to see them. Despair pushes a cry up your throat when you slap a hand back to your quiver and feel two arrows left. 

A slippery mix of mud and leaves suddenly takes you down to the ground, your knees landing on a hard tree root. You swear under your breath, fumbling to get back up, when a Grey you hadn't noticed behind you lunges on top, slamming you back down. Pain shoots through your ribs as you frantically roll around, thrusting a forearm against its throat to avoid its opened mouth and kicking your knees into its chest. Then, a fiery bullet lodges into its forehead, the Grey going limp on top of you with a splatter of brains and coagulated fluid. 

"Get up, Twix!" Ghost barks. 

You shove the body off and scramble to your feet, legs feeling like jelly, but you force them to keep running. 

You whip a brief look behind you. 

"There's too many— I'm almost out of arrows!" 

"The river," Ghost throws over his shoulder. "Those fucks can't swim."

You realize his idea when the roar of water greets your ears. Ghost doesn't hesitate to sprint onto the rusty rebar, slipping his gun away to hold Blue with both arms. 

You follow behind, forcing your eyes on the bank ahead as you slow down to keep balance. All you have to do is get across and the river will take care of the rest. Heartbeats pound in your skull, each step requiring an unfathomable amount of focus that you struggle to muster. You're about halfway there when you hear the splash of Greys falling in, and a brief glance below causes your footing to falter. 

This time you fail to grab the beam.

Cold water envelops you like a million needles.

A mouthful of water burns down your throat, and for a moment, you can't move. Can't breathe. Everything spins around you. It's not until your feet collide with something hard - the bottom of the riverbed - that your brain registers what's happening and you kick out to propel yourself up. 

You break the surface for a gulp of air before the current pulls your head back under. Your arms flail around in search of something to grab. Just when you latch onto what feels like a log, a hand seizes your ankle with a hungered screech. You slam your foot back, over and over, more water filling your mouth as you struggle to kick the Grey and hold on at the same time.

Finally, the rotten skull caves in and the current sucks it away. With your leg freed, you haul yourself up the log toward the edge of the river. You begin climbing up the cliffside, using the twisted roots as footholds, your hands digging into caked soil. You're almost to the top, but you feel numb and weak. So weak. You can't find anything else to grab. The wet sole of your boot begins to slip.

"Grab on!"

A gloved hand stretches down. Ghost is crouched above, Blue now on his back so can he lean over. You grip his hand and he pulls you up, until you collapse on the ground, wet and shivering. 

You cough up water and bile. 

"Bloody fucking hell.” 

It's been a while since you've thought about dying. You've made it this far, instinct always taking the reins and pushing you onward. But now, as the reality of the cold, wet clothes clinging to you sets in, you consider asking Ghost to just shoot you. It would be quicker than freezing to death, and a much better fate than drowning or turning Grey. At least you know Blue will be safe now.

Before you can form the words, you hear the shuffling of fabric. A jacket, a beanie. Set on the ground beside you.

"Take off your clothes. Put these on."

The rest turns into a dream. You don't remember putting the clothes on, or standing up and moving your heavy limbs. You don't remember getting to the hunter's cabin, but the next thing you know, you are curled up on the floorboards beside a small fire, inhaling the musky smell of Ghost's oversized jacket, with the blanket you brought tucked around your bare legs. You don't feel cold anymore. Your head pounds. You can hear the steady rhythm of your heart, slow but present. Behind you somewhere, Ghost tends to Blue. You know this because you hear him whisper to her as her sobs are muffled by biting onto a shirt. Amelia, Amelia, he says to her. A name you've never heard before. He must be cleaning the wound, the pain of it causing her to thrash and kick. Then, the sounds fade, and you know she is asleep. 

When your eyes finally tear away from the flames, you spot Ghost hunched over, lifting up his shirt. Dark blood and ink stain pale skin. 

"You were shot?" 

His eyes snap up. He regards you for a moment, and it is now you notice that most of the white of his mask has been stained with red from his kills. 

"Knife," he says.

You don't know why you offer, or why he silently accepts. Somehow you end up knelt beside him, your cracked fingertips cleaning the puncture wound in his torso without a single word exchanged. It's not deep enough to need stitches. You clear the blood and dab on antiseptic. The only sign he feels any pain is the flex of corded muscles beneath your touch and the occasional sharp inhale through the mask. His skin is oddly warm, a temperature that does some to ease the tension in your muscles.

When you're done, you roll the shirt back down. He doesn't say thank you, not that you expected him to. 

You break the silence with a voice that barely hovers above a whisper. "You could've let me freeze."

His brows lower. "You could've let them kill her."

"I would never do that." When he doesn't respond, you glance at her sleeping form. "She's okay?"

"Just a graze," he confirms.

"She lost quite a bit of blood. She might need a few days to rest."

Your gaze shifts back to his. You quietly add, "Did you recognize them? Were they a part of the military?" 

"Maybe. Their gear was. Didn't know them, though."

"Why did they try to kill us?"

He gives you a look. Of course. He tried to kill you for the same reason once.

"They have a camp nearby," you murmur the answer, more to yourself than to him. "Something to protect."

He gives a slow nod, then moves to grab his rifle and a hoodie to slip on in place of the thick SAS jacket he lent you. As he moves to the door, you realize what he plans to do. Keep watch.

You slip the beanie off and run your fingers over the cut on your brow when he says something just before leaving.

"For someone who once asked me to kill them, you fight hard to survive, Twix."

You don't know what to say. Just hours ago, you almost asked him to kill you again.

There's a beat of silence and then, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Do you fight so hard."

A breath sticks in your throat, and you stare at the floor. You're not sure why he is asking this, or why the answer is so hard to give.

"I... I don't know."

With that, he leaves. You watch the fire turn to dark embers. The faded adrenaline has left you with a fatigue you have grown familiar with. If you weren't so tired, maybe you would still be scared, your mind filled with fresh memories of gore and death and screaming. But you fall asleep quickly, scooting beside Blue and sinking into the warmth of his jacket. 

[screamingforests]

How would task force 141 react to the reader giving them puppy eyes (🥺)when they want something?

AND how would task force 141 go about getting the reader to do something for them? Would they get payback and use the puppy eyes as well? or do they have some other method?

Ahhh this is such a cute idea!! I love these sort of asks. This is gonna be quite long

Gaz - he doesn't immediately fold to the puppy eyes, but they do weaken his resolve by quite a bit. With enough pleading and over the top dramatics, he folds quite quickly.

~

"Pleeeease?" You ask, holding up your phone to show some online shop selling something you've been after for ages. A soft plush that has a giant blanket inside. "It would be perfect for movie nights!"

Kyle sighs, "c'mon, love, we have enough blankets and plushes around the house for movie night now."

And when you pull out the puppy eyes with some more soft pleading, he just sighs.

~

Though, when he wants something, he's more sly about it. He 100% uses that charisma to get what he wants without puppy eyes, and he's so smooth about it. It almost makes you mad.

Soap - Folds. Immediately. No hesitation. Your puppy eyes are his greatest weakness and you know it.

~

"Look at her! I could use a companion while you're on missions!" You show him the newspaper listing that someone was selling kitties.

"No, bonnie! I don't want to have to share you with some wild cat!" Johnny pouts at the idea, crossing his arms.

And when you pull out the puppy eyes, he's immediately calling the listed phone number. One would be fine, he supposes.

~

This man would definitely use puppy eyes to his advantage in return. You don't fold quite as quickly as he does, but you still do eventually. It's a win-win, really.

Ghost - I mean, he was more than likely going to buy you whatever you wanted anyway, so the puppy eyes just speed it up. He likes showering you in gifts because he knows he isn't always the best with words. Though, the gifts are meaningful(mostly)

~

"Si!" You shout from across the apartment, running to show Simon what you had just found. "Si! Si! Si!"

"Woah, dove-" Simon grabs your waist, stopping you in your tracks. "What's got you in a hurry?"

"Look!" You shove your phone to his face, your screen showing off a matching pajama set. "I want matching pajamas with you!"

And you already do, but you want another pair so you don't waste any time using your best puppy eyes.

Simon sighs, "Alright, giv' it here, I'll get 'em."

~

When he wants something, he just asks for it straight up. He doesn't ask for much so you know if he's voicing it, however nonchalantly, he must really want it. He spoils you so why can't you return the favor?

Price - Does NOT work on him. He finds it more amusing than anything. Even if you know it doesn't work, you still always try because what if it does work some day?

~

"John, can we stop at that new restuarant?" You ask, pointing it out as the two of you walk around the city.

It was date night, and he was already planning on taking you somewhere even nicer, though you didn't know that.

"Not tonight, luvie," John replies, squeezing your hand. "I have somewhere else for us."

"Oh, please?" You plead softly, pulling out your puppy eyes. "I really want to try it with you tonight."

"Not tonight, maybe some other time," he chuckles softly, "now c'mon, we've got to keep walking if we plan on making it in time."

~

This. Man. Does. Not. Ask. For. ANYTHING. You basically have to pry it out of him, and even then, it's a fight. He just wants to spoil you, and he does not want you spending your hard earned money on him. That's your money, not his. Still, getting him to talk after a few heavy-handed glasses of whiskey is pretty easy.

[shinsocest]

No. 005

notes: I don't remember this being so slimy but I love it. Anyways wish me luck at work tonight. It's my first time being in charge without the general manager breathing down my neck 💀

warnings: Size kink, degradation, praise, breeding, oral (both), voice kink, overstim, body worship

“I said no.”

You spit the words from your mouth angrily as you glare at the man you just shoved. The bass of the club thrums heavily in your chest, mimicking the heavy thud of your heart as he looks at his alcohol strewn shirt and returns your glare.

He’s been haranguing you all night. Awful one liners that he had to have thought up with his dick, and trying to buy you drinks. You’ve been polite, declining his advances one after another just trying to enjoy the night out with your friends, but now he’s crossed the line.

Your friends had excused themselves from the dancefloor to get more drinks, but before you could follow them he’d slid up behind you and put his arms around your waist. The unwanted touch had been enough to make your skin crawl.

You try to maintain your glare as he towers over you, but there’s a flutter of unease in your chest when he grabs your arm. His expression is taut, annoyed. “Don’t be a bitch. Just tryin’ to have a good time.”

“Let go.” You glance around warily, a familiar bitterness and panic sparking at the lack of attention this is receiving from nearby clubbers. Of course.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“Just take it easy.” His purred tone makes your face twist up in disgust.

You’re preparing to throw the elbow of a lifetime when he suddenly splutters beside you, and is yanked from your side.

"Think you're looking for a good time in the wrong place."

Your head snaps up to see a tall, dark-haired man with your assailant's arm in a vice grip. He's covered in purplish scars that react strangely to the flashing red, blue, and greens of the club lights.

His eyes seem to pierce right through you as he spares you a glance, before he winks and turns his attention away. You stare; his eyes are so shockingly blue.

"What the hell, fuck off man." The other man struggles, but you watch him stiffen as the newcomer grips him tighter and whispers something in his ear.

His face pales, looking stricken, and he stumbles back as the newcomer throws him forward. He pushes through the crowd of people without looking back, ignoring their exclamations of irritation.

The newcomer watches him go, and you take a moment to just look him over. He doesn't exactly look like all the other clubbers. He's in a high collared, long black overcoat that's seen better days, black jeans and loose white t-shirt. But he doesn't seem out of place either; it's like he belongs here.

You don't realize you're staring until he turns to peer at you, and you look down, a sudden wave of self consciousness washing over you.

"Uh, thanks. Thank you," you manage after a moment, peeking up to see him giving you an amused look.

He gets closer, a grin widening across his cheeks. It looks uncomfortable to you, pulling at the staples holding his skin together. He speaks loudly, combating the music. "What was that? Can't hear you, babydoll."

You raise your voice as he steps closer, ready to repeat yourself, but your mind switches tracks. Despite his scars, you can’t deny that he’s incredibly handsome in his own way. You’re entranced by his roguish smile. "Dance with me."

Sapphire eyes gleam approvingly as his fingers close around your waist. He tugs you closer, guiding you to grind back on him in time with the pounding music.

You can hear him much clearer low, a low throaty rasp in your ear.

"Been watching you all night, little mouse. You sure do know how to tell a guy no. Can we have a little fun? Or are you gonna tell me no too?"

His words bring a shudder up your spine. There’s just something about him that draws you in. He feels wild, and dangerous, and you want to be swept up in it. Even if it’s just for a night.

Before you can answer, you can hear your friends calling your name. He peers over your head at the trio of girls standing a few feet away, all of them looking at you expectantly.

You look at them, giving them a reassuring look. “I’ll catch up with you guys, okay?”

Your best friend glances at him then at you, a knowing smile on her face as she tugs the other two back towards the bar.

Once they’re gone you lean your head back into his shoulder, pressing your hips back against him more firmly, letting him feel your agreement.

He makes an approving sound in his throat. “That’s what I wanted to hear. Name's Dabi by the way, babydoll.”

The way his voice is warm and hot in your ear makes it that much easier to melt into him, silencing any nerves as his long fingers toy with the hem of the dress you wore out tonight.

It’s painstaking how he inches the already enticingly short hem up your legs as you sway to the music. You can feel the telltale bulge against your ass as he hooks his chin over your shoulder, his fingers kneading the flesh of your exposed thighs. At this rate, if anyone nearby were to look too close, the lacy front of your panties would be clear to see.

Normally you would be an anxious wreck at the thought, but with his tall form pressed right up behind you practically molded to your backside, and his arms wrapped around your waist—you can’t even think beyond the sparks of anticipation. Your body feels moments away from igniting.

You feel more than hear Dabi’s approving moan as he slips a couple fingers between the apex of your thighs, pressing the rapidly dampening fabric deeper into your slit. “Shit, you’re soaked.”

His teeth meet your ear. “Let’s take this somewhere else.”

Dabi pulls you off the dancefloor, towards one of the dark hallways that leads off towards the bathrooms.

Your squeal gets cut off as he presses you against the wall, his lips on yours. He kisses fiercely, his tongue insistently bullying past your lips, but the way he drags his hands down your body is almost reverant, palming at your tits, smoothing them down your hips like he wants to rip your dress from your body to get what’s beneath it.

Then he breaks off, leaving you both panting as he retreats to the other wall, beckoning you towards him.

“On your knees, little mouse. I wanna see what else you can do.”

He’s undoing his jeans, and that little tingle runs up your spine, a strange rush to earn his approval.

You delicately settle on your knees as he pulls his cock out, and don’t hesitate to reach for it, closing your hand around the girthy shaft, your lips already pressed to the dripping, pink tip.

“Open up, there you go,” Dabi groans as you close your lips around him, swirling your tongue around the sensitive glands on the underside of his cock.

After that you stop thinking, letting yourself feel the way he pulses on your tongue as you hollow your cheeks, the salty taste of his precum almost getting lost in the way you are shameless salivating over his cock.

The ring of a cellphone, heavily muted by the club music, hits your ears.

"Keep going, babydoll—don't you stop," Dabi hisses out, fishing his phone out of his pocket with a growl, glancing at the dimly glowing screen. "Shit."

He bites out a low curse as you swallow around him, fingers fumbling to answer the call. "Shigaraki, kinda busy."

You look up through teary eyes as you bob on his pulsing length. That name sounds almost familiar, but you're far too focused on the task at hand to spare it another thought. A moan sounds in your throat as he tangles his fingers in your hair, forcing you deeper.

"Look I know what I'm—fuck—fucking here to do, okay? I'll get your man. Hngh—he's ashes, I promise."

Dabi listens for a moment, breathing hard as he stares down at the way his cock disappears and reappears from your mouth. Then he scoffs, voice shaking under the strain of swallowing another moan. "Fuck off, I'll do what I want in my free time. Gotta go, slut’s really good."

You whine as he hangs up and pulls you off of him.

"Quiet, babydoll, gotta return the favor before I forget and fuck you stupid," Dabi drawls, shoving his phone in his pocket and yanking you to your feet.

Dabi’s head swivels before he pulls you into a nearby bathroom. His touches are fervent as he paws at your body, his lips sloppy against yours as he pushes you up on the counter. He urges you up onto the marble, peeling the bottom half of your dress up; the countertop is cool against your flushed skin.

His palms are hot as they spread your thighs, opening a space for him to kneel between them. Dabi peers up at you through his lashes with a devilish look in his eyes before dragging his tongue over your pantyclad pussy. “These are cute.”

The casual comment makes your face burn, turning your face as he chuckles.

“Kind of in the way though.”

You squeak, eyes snapping down at the sudden feel of heat, to see him holding the singed fabric between his fingers. You really liked that pair. Before you could complain however, Dabi’s tongue slips between your folds. You gasp at the warmth of him, your eyelashes fluttering when he hums, and flicks his tongue over your clit.

“Just don’t be too loud, you know.”

You fucking know that, but you have never had to remind yourself to not moan so freely than now—the way his tongue disappears into your cunt, so slick and warm and agile. Either his tongue is way too fucking long, or he has found some magical angle that makes your thighs quiver, but between that and the way his nose nudges at your clit repeatedly, you feel yourself racing towards an orgasm.

He’s relentless, messy; your juices spilling down his chin. For once, you are getting as good as you gave. You bite back a moan as the knot in your stomach twists, threatening to snap.

Then Dabi pulls back.

“Should I let you cum now?” He sounds so condescending, contemplative as he toys with your clit, eyes glowing at the way you shake desperately under his touch. “I mean you haven’t made me cum, I’m not sure you deserve it.”

“Dabi, please—please, hah, please I need it.”

Your voice is shaky at best, words broken by panting as he drags the flat of his tongue over your dripping hole just once with a lazy precision, before resting his head against your thigh. His nonchalant grin doesn’t change as he keeps drawing featherlight shapes on your throbbing bud, so you desperately try again, trying to convince him.

“Someone m-might see, please.”

“Oh?” Dabi’s grin sharpens. “Well in that case.”

You cry out in loss as he stands, abandoning your clit. Your body aches at the denial, and Dabi chuckles at the broken-hearted pout on your face.

“Poor slut, look at you. But you said someone might see, so we need to hurry this up, right?” Your eyes instinctively flash down as he adjusts his jeans further down his thighs, stroking his cock. It looks especially pink and pretty in his hold, contrasting with the purplish skin on the back of his hand. “I didn’t even lock the door. So you want it or not?”

“Yes,” you breathe, captivated as he thumbs over the slit of his cock, spreading his precum down the shaft.

“Get over here then, babydoll.”

You don’t need to be told twice, easing off the counter and into his arms, where he smirks and allows a quick, sloppy swap of tongue before he spins you around and places your palms against the mirror on the wall.

It’s a little embarrassing, seeing for the first time how taken apart you look. Your makeup is smudged and running, your dress hiked up your hips, and your eyes are misty and desperate looking. As you meet his eyes in the mirror, it’s obvious that he sees all the same things you do, and revels in it.

Dabi smirks as he puts his hands on your hips, forcing them to jut out as he slots himself behind you. “It’s pathetic, isn’t it? How ruined you look when I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

You jolt as he taps his length against your inner thigh, sliding leisurely through your folds. “I asked you a question, doll.”

“Y-yes…”

“Yes, what?” Dabi coos, the thick mushroom tip catching on your clit now, making you mewl.

“I look like a pathetic slut,” you whine, arching your hips into his touch, desperate to feel him inside you.

“Very good,” Dabi rasps, the head of his cock catching on your eager hole. With a low moan he pushes in. “That deserves a reward.”

Your fingers bend against the glass as he thrusts home, the force of it threatening your balance. The intrusion is sudden, but your slick walls are accommodating, throbbing and ready to take as much as he’ll give you.

Every time Dabi drives into you, his cock slides against that stiff patch of nerves that makes moan after moan tumble from your lips. It doesn’t take long for that rolling wave of pleasure to begin cresting in you again, especially when he pulls the top of your dress down, groping at your tits as they spill out.

Your arms shake with the effort to keep yourself upright for the both of you as he rolls both of your tits between his fingers, pulling on them. As the tension pulls tight and snaps, your arms fail.

Dabi’s pace stutters as you fall against the mirror, your pussy spasming and creaming on his length, but after a quick adjustment, he returns to that hard and agonizingly steady tempo.

“Aw, babydoll, did you just cum? Poor thing, just from that?” Sympathy drips from his tongue as you whimper and nod—smudging the glass in the process—but when his thrusts get harder, you know it doesn’t run that deep. “Well I’m not quite done with this pussy yet, so just hang on for me.”

“Ah, ah, fuck!”

Your eyes go glassy as he continues to drill into you, your walls hot and sensitive, quivering in a way that would be embarrassing if you could think beyond how painfully good his cock feels.

“Fuck, squeeze me like that again. Gonna make me cum right in this pussy.”

Your whole body ripples at his words, causing Dabi to chuckle breathlessly. “Wait, did you like that? Hmm? Little slut, you really want to be knocked up by a guy you don’t even know?”

You look over your shoulder, your eyes teary, expression so fucked out as you nod at him that Dabi stiffens, his release suddenly much closer than it had been. “Damn.”

You fall into bliss so suddenly your moan is loud and unfiltered, rocketing off the bathroom walls and snapping the coil in his gut so fast that he snarls as his release takes hold of him.

“Oh fuck, babydoll, fine. You want me to stuff a brat in you? Then take it, take it—oh f-fuck, there you go, all for you, doll.”

His groan rumbles against your back as he presses you hard against the glass, his cock throbbing as he empties himself into your cunt.

Dabi leans into you heavily, relaxing against your body as the fading spasms of your pussy milk whatever he has left, before sighing and pulling out. With nothing to stop it, his cum spills out down your thighs.

You moan as you feel his fingers pushing his spilt cum back up into you.

“When you see those two lines, just come back here and ask around for me. I’ll find ya, doll.”

[sophvilla]

L' amour De Ma Vie

°°°°°°°°°Enha Series°°°°°°°°

Pairing: Bf! Jay X Gf! Femreader

Synopsis: Jay from the very start has a mild obsession with your breasts & When you said to your Boyfriend that he can do whatever that he please, He doesn't waste anytime before burying his face in your Boobs.

Warning: A bit Smut, MDNI, 18+, slightly smuty, Boobs kink, Jay Sucking reader's Boobs, Both in love, Nonidol au, written au.

Park Jeongseong | 박종성

Jay is very soft and Gentle during sex, never been the one to Be rough and have any kinks or something, he always played safe when it comes to you or Maybe he didn’t want to scare you with his wild thoughts and his obsession on you.

But when you asked him do whatever He pleases with you, he was stunned, Can he really do whatever he please? –He was a bit hesitant but,

Jay from the very start has a mild obsession with your breasts. well, mild would be sort of an understatement- he's completely obsessed with your breasts but happens to have enough self-control to not paw at them every second of the day. however, that doesn't mean his dark brown eyes won't wander down the valley of your cleavage every now and again while you're out in public.

He has a bad habit of fondling your chest when you're at home though. in between cuddles, while you're both scrolling endlessly through your social media feeds, Jay will lean over and peel down the thin fabric of your tank top, your full breasts easily spilling out into his rough grasps. after so many failed attempts to shoo him away, you've learned to just roll with the tide and let him do as he pleases so you decided you’re gonna do just that.

So that’s why you suggested him to do whatever He likes so He dived in your breast without hesitation,

Jay’s warm mouth inhales the entirety of your areolas, his hot tongue lapping and swirling around your puffy nipples. he delightfully hums at the simple taste of you on his tongue, his half-lidded eyes peering up at you as you continue to watch him through your lashes.

you glance down at him for a second, your lips curling into a smug smirk as he leaves sloppy kisses and slobbering bites all over the swell of your breasts.

"you enjoying yourself?" you tease as you turn your attention back to your Boyfriend. Jay rolls his eyes in return, flushed lips remaining latched to your tits, the mumble of a "uhmm" muffled against your skin too busy to even answer you properly, as you Moan for him for devouring your Boobs like a Starved man.

[sweetbunpura]

Rollo tries to propose to Yuu but everyone tries to sabotage him 😈

LMAO, Rollo has to get through so many people just to propose to Yuu!

Rollo vs NRC

The fourth year had come, gone, and they NRC students had returned to the school to graduate. Rollo had spent his apprentice in Fleur city, learning about all he could with his new found interest in volunteer work and planning for his future... in more ways than one. He had purchased a ring, intending to propose to the love of his life at the graduation. Him and Yuu had only grown closer in the time apart, which was a surprise to Rollo, for he had heard how many couples had struggled with long distance relationships.

Outside of phone calls, Rollo had not see her for a year, so had had no idea how much she had changed. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the portal and into the Mirror Chamber. Other 4th years were in there and chatting among one another, most paid him no mind....but he halted as a call of his name sounded.

"Roll-kun!" Cater waved him over.

Rollo approached him and took in the ginger's new looks. Cater had stayed the same height but his hair was different, he had dyed red locks on top of his longer hair. He wrapped him up in a hug and smiled.

"Look at you! Your hair has really grown out! Yuu-chan's gonna love it."

Rollo gave a soft smile and dragged his fingers through his long gray hair. "Thank you, Cater."

"And a smile too? She really changed you~"

"Indeed." Rollo patted his pocket and felt the box against it. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

"Going to see Child of Man with that ring?"

Rollo jolted and sighed as he turned around to see a smiling Malleus. "Malleus...."

"Hello, Flamme." Malleus gave a small bow. "Am I right in assuming you plan on asking her to marry you?"

"Wait, no kidding!?"

Rollo sighed and nodded. "I am. Now, I'm off to go find her. Farewell."

He left, complete unaware of Malleus and Cater smiling at each other. From there, Rollo could not find Yuu anywhere, and everyone he had asked had pointed him in various opposite directions. Idia and Ortho had straight up lied to him, stating that Yuu wasn't even here to begin with. Silver and Sebek just shook their heads and said that she might be else where, just not on campus. And yet everywhere else had wielding the results of "I don't know"

He was getting frustrated at this point, but before he could even think of where else to go, the announcement for the graduation started. With a sigh, he went to the podium and waiting for eveything to start.

Once the ceremony ended, he departed the stage and was about to start looking for her again, he got tackled.

"Enough of this!" Rollo glared at Deuce, Ace, and Grim. "Why is everyone so hellbent on stopping me!"

"You can't ask her to marry you." Ace grumbled.

"Yeah!" Grim added in. "She's my henchhuman and I don't want you macking on her!"

"By the sevens... We're already dating!" Rollo growled and pried the three off of him. "This is getting absurd!"

"You can't blame us..." Deuce said. "She means the world to us."

"I understand that, but she means the same to me." He sighed. "And I haven't seen her all day. We've only been communicating through calls... And I miss her terribly."

"Aw."

Rollo jolted and turned around to see Yuu standing behind him with Cater and Malleus in a headlock. She smiled warmly at her and her hair had gotten longer, they were worked into brains with hair ornaments in them.

"Love."

"Heard you been looking for me and everyone sent you on a wild goose chase." She shook Cater ad Malleus. "Thanks to these two."

"Guilty as charged~" Cater laughed.

"It was all in good fun." Malleus huffed.

"Now." She dropped them as they landed on the ground face down. "What's up?"

"I wanted to ask you something." He reached into his pocket and before he could get down on one knee to begin, the others started gathering around.

"Aw~ Snapping Turtle's gonna propose~" Floyd.

"How beautiful!" Rook.

"I'll be the one designing the dress no doubt." Vil.

"About time." Leona.

Rollo sighed as the chatter started up around him, Yuu tugged him forward by his robes.

"I know you had this all planned out, but you know how these guys are." She kissed him. "Put the ring on, the answer's gonna be yes no matter what."

Rollo opened the box and slipped the ring on her before placing his forehead on her shoulder.

"I hate them."

"No, you don't.

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 13.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! (Also, English is not my native language) Contains brief reference to Dec.11 (Temptation)

Summary: You and Dean manage to piss off an Amor and in return he "gifts" you with a life-swap with two strangers for the next hours. Not much of a deal for you two, you think. You're hunters after all, so how bad could it be? Oh how wrong you were. Remember one of Dean's biggest fears? Yeah. About that.

Words: 3,100

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: Alrighty, this was a bit of a wild ride.

I really need to write less and yet I end up writing more every time and keep screwing up my sleeping schedule damn it. This is the first time I've written this much dialogue. :') I'm still new to writing fanfics and now I'm a bit anxious about posting it haha. I really hope I got Dean right - I didn't get to proof read it yet, so maybe I'll adjust some small things tomorrow (or rather when I'm awake again in a couple of hours). EDIT: Yeah, I did edit it now. Just a quick heads up. Although I am still not entirely satisfied with it… I might rewrite this one someday but for now I gotta move on to the next prompt.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

13th Dec. - Freaky Friday

"Love is in the air!" The amor chanted before popping off. At that point you didn't know yet that naked bastard meant it quite literally.

Next moment you open your eyes, you're stuck on an airliner with a screaming Dean next to you, in pilot uniform.

“I’m gonna kill that crotch-faced angel!” Dean yells, his face beyond pissed.

“Jesus- What the hell just happened!?” You sputter, blinking at him rapidly. You find yourself clinging to the armrests as your body tries to catch up with the sudden shift of surrounding. One moment you’d been standing in a dining kitchen, next thing you know you’ve been hurled into a cockpit’s seat 30’000 miles in the sky.

“Goddamn sky nudist, that’s what happened,” Dean growls, hands instinctively patting down his new clothings in search of his colt. He grits his teeth with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, “Of course he stripped me of my stuff.” His eyes roam the cockpit, the realization slowly settling in and his stomach twisting into sickening knots, “This gotta be some kinda sick joke.”

“What joke?” A voice startles both of you, Dean even briefly clasps his chest with his hand. You both snap your heads around to face a young, scraggly guy who looks like he’s one sneeze away from lifting off.

“Who invited you to the party?” Dean asks sarcastically, eyebrow arched and eyeing the poor lad with scepticism.

“I- uhm – I’m part of the cabin crew… I’m Bob.” He sputters, his fingers fiddling with his name tag before his eyes dart back and forth between you, curiously. “What party?”

“He’s being sarcastic, Bob.” You crack an amused, lop sided smile.

“Great, we’ve got ourselves another birdbrain. Just without the angel-juice.” Dean quips, rubbing his face in annoyance. “You better buckle up, kid. This’ll be a bumpy ride if it's real.”

“Maybe… it’s just a dream?” You try to reason, although you are pretty positive that this is anything but a dream, “I mean, he’s an angel after all. He wouldn’t put you in charge of 200 passengers, right?“

“660,“ Bob chimes in matter-of-factly, „It’s 660 passengers. Plus 16 cabin crew and that’s-”

“Bob. Not helping.“ You cringe inwardly.

“Including me…” he adds in a small voice.

“And who gave you permission to add your crap?” Dean deadpans at Bob before his head snaps back at you, “And you kiddin’ me? When did angels start to care about any of us?“

“Right - fair enough. Then, uh, let‘s just get the co-pilot. Bob, where‘s the man of the moment?” You turn to glance at the steward again.

“Uh,” Bob mutters with a nervous smile, “That would be you, miss.”

“What?” You look down and notice just now, that indeed, you were wearing a pilot’s uniform. “Really? No stewardess? Well, uh, that’s… refreshing.”

“Fantastic. Just fantastic.” Dean mutters next to you.

„Tell you what — I‘m gonna call Cas,“ Dean fumbles for his phone, „He can shazam us out of this shitshow- Nah! Come on!“ he cuts himself short and throws his hand in the air, “That son of a bitch took my phone as well!“

“Dean - breath - you’re panicking-“ you try to calm him down but get cut short.

“I’m not panicking! I’m peachy as fuck!” he retorts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just because I‘m a little worried about being stuck up in this flyin’ tin can of death doesn‘t mean I‘m freakin’ out.” Dean defends himself, his eyes narrowed, trying his best to act tough and offended. When in reality his grip on the armrest is close to a breaking point.

You reach out a hand to place it on his arm, when suddenly the plane shudders and Dean’s eyes go as wide as saucers, his grip on the armrest now enough to strangle the life out of a man.

Bob pipes up with recovered confidence, “It‘s just a little bit of turbulence, Captain. I fly this same route every day, it‘s perfectly normal.”

Dean’s head whips around to shoot Bob a deadpan glare, “Yeah, ‘cuz you’re totally unbiased, aren’t ya?” Bob blinks at him, seemingly not understanding a single word he said. “I’m not your Captain, kid.” He clarifies with an exasperated groan.

Bob looks like his face has been hit with a wet towel, “But… you’re wearing a pilot’s uniform.”

Dean shoots you a sarcastic smile. “Oh, bless his heart.”

You sigh, “Thanks for stating the obvious, Bob.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“So... you are pilots.” he concludes.

“Shut up, trolly-boy.” Dean snaps gruffly before he turns back to face the sky in front of them. He runs a frustrated hand down his face, unsure what to say with his usual bravado seemingly dissipated.

“I need a drink,” Dean mutters to himself after a moment of silence, the sweat beading on his forehead.

Bob takes this as his cue and proudly hands him a bottle of water.

“This better be gin.” He grumbles and uncaps the bottle, downing it in one go. He sets the empty bottle down on the ground, his eyes flicking across the dashboard of the cockpit. His hair gets ruffled by a frustrated hand of his, before Dean suddenly pushes himself off the seat, muttering. “I need some fresh air.”

“Sure, let’s just open a window - are you insane??” You shout after him, turning in your seat. Bob shoots you the look of a deer caught in headlights, his face drained of all blood as he watches him walk out on them. You roll your eyes before you get up to rush after Dean.

“Just keep the damn plane in the sky.” You clap him briefly on the shoulder, at which Bob stutters something along the line of ‘this not being part of his job description’. But you cut him short with a mocking smile and a brisk slap to the chest. “It’s your lucky day, pal. You just got promoted. Now just don’t screw the pooch ‘till we’re back.” And off you went, slamming the cockpit door shut behind you. Leaving poor Bob back with nothing less but 10,000 switches, dials and buttons. And an empty water bottle.

***

You hurry after Dean who just disappeared in the lavatory. “Dean, wait-” you get inside as well, already feeling a slight deja-vu of the cooped up situation in here, but choose not to comment on it now. “Look, I know this sucks but… I think I’ve got an idea how we can get out of this.”

Dean tries and fails to pace in the narrow cabin. He’s now running his hand through his hair in a frantic manner instead. “Oh yeah? Please, indulge me.” He says sarcastically, his breath slightly shaky.

“Dean, listen to me,” you pause, your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose, “God… I can’t believe I’m saying this but…” you take a deep breath, fighting the urge to curse out a certain naked love-angel, “The way I see it… Right now, the lives of 676 innocent people depend on your dick.”

“Uh-“ Dean stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded, “Are you trying to flirt with me? ‘Cuz that’s one hell of an odd pick up line.” His lips shift into a mischievous smirk, “It’s kinda hot though.”

“DEAN,” You groan in exasperation, “I’m being serious! Lives are at stake here!” You reach over to lock the door with a bit more force than needed. “Including my ass!” You add as you whip around to face him again.

Dean throws his hands up in mock surrender, “Okay, okay! I get it! Just sayin’, it’s a weird thing to say to your boyfriend!” He plops down on the toilet seat behind him, his expression one of mock-seriousness, his lips twitching, “So what’s my dick gotta do with the fate of this plane?”

You sigh and lean back against the door, your knees almost touching his in the narrow lavatory. “Love is in the air.” You state matter-of-factly before you continue, “That’s what the Amor said, remember? It’s a lesson, Dean - we gotta… ya know-” while you speak you make an obscene hand gesture to get your point across, “- do it.”

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up, nearly disappearing into his hairline, “Whoa, whoa, whoa - slow down there, Squeak. You can’t be serious, you really want us to-”

Before he could finish the sentence, the plane lurched suddenly, causing you both to grab for each other and almost knocking heads. Your eyes lock, realization dawning on you that time’s ticking. Fast.

“No time for explanations,” you blurt out, “You just gotta trust me on this.” You drop to your knees between his legs, your hands working the buckle of his belt. When suddenly Dean pipes up.

“I can’t.”

Your mind just came to a screeching halt at those two words. “What?” You sputter, looking up at him in disbelief.

“I can’t do it.” He repeats in a low voice, clearing his throat this time. And his eyes dart around the lavatory in an attempt to avoid your flabbergasted look.

Silence.

“We literally fucked in a public fitting room the other day and you want to tell me you can’t do this?” You stare at him wide-eyed. This entire situation seemed like a stupid joke to you. Dean’s dismissing a chance to bang you? Ridiculous.

Dean looks taken aback by your argument, his face scrunched up in an offended manner. “Hey! That wasn’t 30’000 miles in the air - s’not the same!-” His voice turns into a little screech when you cup his privates in the middle of his arguing, “Hey, hey- whoa- easy there!” He sputters, his voice a few octaves higher than usual. His fingers wrap around the edge of the toilet seat in a death grip, forcing himself to regain his composure in front of you.

His cheeks flush with a faint pink when his eyes finally meet yours again. “He’s-” he croaks out before he cuts himself short. He clears his throat and forces his voice to its usual confident, gruff tone, “He’s scared. Alright?” His jaw clenches and he looks away again, forcing a sarcastic smile when he scoffs, “Go on, laugh it up.”

Oh. Now it clicked in your head. You suddenly feel bad for snapping at him, but you still can’t help the hint of an amused smile tugging at the corner of your lips. He felt so embarrassed, it was almost endearing. “Well,” you smack your lips, your soft voice carrying a hint of teasing, “Guess I’ll just have to step up my game then.” You push yourself to your feet and before Dean gets to object, you disappear out the door with a quick wink at him. Dean stares at the door in confusion, his eyes occasionally darting down to his half-exposed boxers and its non-existent bulge. His jaw clenches and he curses a silent “Damnit”, already regretting that he told you.

A few minutes later, the door to the lavatory swings open again. And Dean’s breath hitches at the sight in front of him. “I thought you’d like this, Captain Winchester.” You drawl out his name in an extra sultry tone. Your finger playing at the neckline of your tight stewardess outfit. And his attention was effectively drawn to your subtly bobbing breasts whenever the plane shook. It had taken some smooth talking but you had managed to trade clothings with one of the stewardess’. Not without raising a few eyebrows though. But hey, lives are at stake here. And if the Winnichester needs some coaxing then you’ll damn well do so by wearing a super short blue skirt and a tight blouse with your pushed up boobs hanging out halfway. “Damn,” Dean swallows thickly, his voice cracking slightly, “You- uh- you look hot.” He starts to fidget around on the toilet lid, his eyes roaming you up and down with a sudden look of lust.

“So do you, Captain.” You hum, your teeth grazing your lips slowly. The pilot uniform fit him perfectly. Just how you had always imagined him. You secretly always hoped that the day would come where he’d need to wear one for a case, but of course that chance never came. Until now. And damn, the sight made your stomach tingle and the fabrics of your panties dampen.

But the moment is ruined by another strong turbulence, making the plane lurch again, this time stronger. You stumble forward and Dean panics, his hands braced against a wall each, “Oh come on! This can’t be normal!”

You take the chance and with one ‘wrong step’ you land on his thighs, both your knees straddling his hips. Taking the moment back by force. Dean startles for a moment, gasping for air as he’s torn between panicking from the planes sudden alarming noise, or feeling turned on by your bold action.

You shift on his lap, your wetted panties grinding against his covered crotch. Dean’s eyes briefly flutter closed, biting back a groan. Without another word, you lean in and capture his lips in a passionate kiss, which Dean quickly succumbs to. After a moment, you break the kiss again, leaving him breathless and still a bit befuddled.

“You listen to me,” you command in a sultry tone while you cup his cheeks with both hands, holding his gaze, “You will fuck me now as if our lives depend on it. Ya hear me, Dean Winchester? I know you can do it.” Because our lives do depend on it, you add mentally.

Dean swallows thickly, his mouth suddenly going dry. After a moment of silence, despite the unsettling increasing clattering of the cabins and the rattling of the floor beneath them, Dean nods. “Yeah, I hear ya.” He replies huskily.

You can see in his darkened eyes how his fear is slowly dissipating and making room for excitement and lust. His hands slide off the walls to move to your waist and he rolls his hips up against you to show the effect you’re having on him. And indeed, his erection is twitching against the fabrics, begging to be released now. He looks up at you with that cocky smirk of his, finally carrying his usual confidence again. “Ready to be air-boned?”

“Seriously now?” You snort with an amused chuckle, your eyes roaming his pilot uniform, “Come on, Captain,” you playfully swat his thigh and then lean in, your lips grazing his ear, “I’ve always dreamed of gettin’ laid by a pilot. Hard.”

At that Dean’s green eyes glint with eagerness and desire. He raises an eyebrow and chuckles, “That so?” Without a warning, he grabs you by the hips and he pushes off the toilet lid. With a tight grip on you, he whips you around and bends you over the small washbasin. You gasp when you suddenly find yourself shoved into the mirror, your hipbones pressed firmly against the edge.

He leans down next to your ear, whispering gravelly, “Hold on tight,” His fingers dig into your hips to angle them slightly up, making you arch your back. “’m gonna make this so much better than your dream, sweetheart.” You shudder from his touch, the heat already pooling between your legs. He runs his hands up your inner thighs until he reaches your skirt which he slowly nudges upwards until he’s got his eyes on your exposed ass. He bites his lips with a low groan. “Damn, you look so beautiful, baby.” His fingers hook under the hem of your panties pulling them down to your knees in one swift movement. You stifle a moan, your thighs already dripping wet. Dean pulls his boxers down and his hard erection twitches against your ass as he leans down again, his chest firmly pressed against your back as he traps you underneath him. “Gonna fuck you ‘till we touch down. That sound good for you?” He growls with a cheeky smirk, his hot breath tingling your skin.

A low whine escapes your lips, pleading with a “y-yes- please.” You’re begging for him to take you already, to pin you down and fuck you like an animal. Your throbbing clit was aching for relief by now. You pant against the mirror and you feel your mind going hazy. Your head drops forward when you feel his fingers brush against your slick folds with a low groan of his.

“Jesus, you’re killing me sweetheart…” he whispers against the nape of your neck. He hooks his two fingers into your cunt to pull you back with a quick tug. You moan loudly but quickly get muffled by his hand, his middle finger slipping past your lips for you to suck on. And you suck hard, drawing a moan out of him this time.

“You ready to be banged to the heavens?” he asks deeply, his fingers slipping out of you again to part your folds open.

You nod, eagerly, a low muffled moan leaving your jammed mouth. Dean hums satisfied with your response and next moment he pushes his thick cock inside you. Despite his size, you take him with ease by now. But not without a guttural moan and you buckling for a moment. Dean quickly slips one hand underneath to your stomach to hold you in position. He doesn’t hold back long, after a few slow in and outs, he thrusts into you like there’s no tomorrow. Seemingly unloading all the pent-up tension from before. The hand on your stomach dips a bit lower, his finger flicking over your swollen nub, determined to get you there along him. His other hand leaves your mouth to push down on your lower back, pinning you down beneath him while his teeth graze at the skin of your neck. He grunts and groans, slamming into you like an animal. You meanwhile whine and whimper, your legs shaking from the relentless thrusts of his cock getting driven inside you, the turbulences only adding to the sensation. He picks up his pace, deep and rough, just the way he knew you liked it.

It didn’t take long for you both to reach the edge. Equally panting and trembling. When you finally come undone with one last hard thrust, you almost scream his name and your walls clamp him, taking him over the edge with you. Dean collapses on top of you with a shuddering, exhausted groan, but quickly makes sure to not bury you beneath him by propping himself up on his elbows.

After a moment of catching his breath, he whispers softly, “Damn… that was… intense.” his forehead drops to your shoulder and he pants heavily against your back, his damp hair tickling your neck. “You doing good, sunshine?”

You finally manage to flutter your eyes open again and it takes you a second to realize where you are. “Oh my God, Dean.” You exclaim breathlessly. You tip your head back, nudging him with your back-head. Dean slowly raises his head, just enough to look over your head, expecting to see his reflection in the mirror. But instead is faced with a swaying kitchen pan.

“Jesus,” he mutters a bit shocked, “Don’t tell me-” “Yes!” you cut him short while wiggling free from underneath him, “It worked! Love is in the air, baby!”

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

(Yandere!Reader) Mine, Mine and Mine

Pairing: Dark Reader x Izuku Midoriya

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: For you, it doesn’t matter if Izuku has a girlfriend or not. He’s still yours, even if he doesn’t want to. 

WARNINGS: Sexual Coercion; Blackmail: Forced Cheating.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊 let me know if you liked this yandere reader.

Also I've been so busy with college and have few time to write, so please be patient with me 😅

–

Your lips trace across Izuku’s chest, a content hum rumbling in your chest. You kiss and lick the soft skin of his chest, hands busy roaming around the expanse of his hard abdomens.

It’s almost impossible to ignore the wild way your pussy tingles and you softly grind against his muscled thigh. 

Rolling your hips, you can’t prevent the shaky whimper that comes out of you and Izuku immediately tenses up, his hands bunching up the bed sheets as an uncomfortable expression shades his pretty face. 

“Fuck, ‘zuku.” you whine burying your face in his neck, increasing the urgency of your hips at pleasure that builds in your core. “You feel so good, baby. A-ah, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum too fast…” 

He tilts his face to the ceiling, closing his eyes as you sloppily kiss his Adam's apple and every part of his neck.

His thigh is all muscle and big, the perfect combination to have you curling your toes everytime your clit bumps on his skin. So this is what cloud-nine feels like.

It doesn’t take long for you to come undone with a breathless moan, his thigh shiny with your juices as you reach your peak. 

Izuku doesn’t wait for you to fully catch your breath before his hands are steadily pulling you off of his lap. 

“Can I go home now?” his voice is barely above a whisper, sounding so small and defeated that you almost feel pity for the former wannabe hero.

Almost. 

Your lips curl into a pout, and you cling to his arms. 

“Aw, you don’t wanna stay some more and have fun?” you playfully kiss his chin, even as he slightly turns away. “You could eat my pussy out, and then I could return the favor. Wouldn’t that be nice, baby?” 

He doesn’t look at you, head hanging low.

“I’d prefer to go home…” he quietly mumbles. 

Your lips lightly trace his sharp jawline till you reach his ear, softly nibbling it. 

“Please…her patrol ends in an hour.” 

You scoff, pulling away your face so you can look at him. 

“And?” the disdain in your voice is sharp and evident, “If she gets home and you’re not there to greet her like a good puppy, it’s not gonna be the end of the world.”

His eyes dart to you, the hypnotizing shade of emerald-green showcasing his true feelings even though his face is a blank canvas.  

“Y’know, I admire how much you care about her, I really do. ” you reach closer, softly nipping at his lower lip. “Uraraka is really lucky to have you. Such a sweet handsome boyfriend, one that cares so much about her.”

Your teeth punctuate a bite into the plush skin of his lip, and Izuku flinches at that. Even the taste of his blood is sweet. 

“But do you think she loves you as much as you love her? Hum?” you question him. “Do you really think she’d still love you if she found out about us? About the way you let me hump all of you. About the way I suck your cock so well and make you cum all over my face? What do you think, baby?” 

“I don’t… I never wanted any of this!” 

“Don’t be a liar now. I know you love it when we fuck. I bet she can’t even make you cum as hard as I can.” 

“Stop.” his voice has a harshness that matches the growing anger on his face, even if you know that he would never act on it. “Don’t…bring her into this.”

The side of your lips curl into a grin. You love riling the poor man up and mentioning his bitch girlfriend never fails. 

“Aw, ‘zuku. You know she’d leave you in a blink of the eye if this little affair of ours came to light. She doesn’t love you that much.” you offer a sickly-sweet smile, bopping his nose.

“But I do. If only you knew just how much I love you, baby, then maybe you wouldn’t be so mean to me. I’d do anything for you.”

Izuku refuses to look at you after that, and you sigh. 

“Okay, fine. Go running back home, if that’s what you want.” you roll away from him, pushing your back against the headboard, hawk-like eyes following Izuku as he rushes to dress his clothes back. 

Just as he’s about to fly out of the shitty motel room, you stop him.

“Oh, Izuku?”

He reluctantly turns around to face you, his shoulder all tensed up. You fondly smile at that.

“If you start having any doubts about our arrangement, just remember that I won’t hesitate before destroying your girl’s entire life and career."

"So for her sake, don’t ever  ignore me, okay sweetie?” 

[blindmagdalena]

i'm thinking about john killing someone in front of his s/o, but that was about to kill them so his violent is seem a protectiveness. to be seem bloody and not be feared....

18+ 2.7k homelander x reader, established relationship, gore, blood, morally grey reader? shower sex, fingering, praise kink, breast play, dirty talk, rough sex, count down, needy/possessive/yandere HL, reader is nondescript with f!anatomy.

Homelander is breathing shallowly, eyes wide—wild—blood dripping from his chin and from the stray strands of hair that fell forward when he lunged. He's elbow deep in a man's sternum, and his other hand is wrapped tight around his broken neck, the bones like fragments of glass poking out from beneath rapidly cooling skin.

It all happened in an instant. One second, the man currently in his hands was grabbing you by the hair, a knife swinging wildly towards your throat, and the next he was dangling from Homelander's grasp, heart slowing against his knuckles.

He laughs through his teeth, licking his lips reflexively. The blood is sour, contaminated with god knows what, but that hardly takes away from the thrill of the moment.

It's been a while since he held the gaze of someone whose life he just claimed. Long enough that he forgets where he is, and who he's with.

He drops the man to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes, innards spilling out from the hole his arm leaves behind. In the man's hand, Homelander sees something that sets his teeth on fucking edge: strands of your hair ripped from your scalp in that limp, dead palm.

"You stupid motherfucker," he growls through a crooked sickly smile, lifting his boot to crush the hand like it were nothing more than an insect. The man's heart has long since stopped, but the rapid pound of another is still loud in his ears.

Yours.

Slowly, he turns around to look at you. You're cradling your skull where you'd been grabbed, tears gathering in your wide glassy eyes, the shock of it all catching up to you. You're staring intently at the corpse, watching blood pooling out from beneath it.

You've never looked at him with fear in your eyes before, but that's precisely what he sees when your eyes meet his. It makes him bristle internally. What was he supposed to do? You were in danger, and the way you screamed will follow him into his nightmares.

He could have lost you just now. You could be the one soaking in a puddle of your own blood, losing your life to the press of nothing more than a flimsy metal blade. While Homelander has always been logically aware of your humanity and the tender vulnerability that entails, nothing has ever put it so viscerally in the forefront of his mind as a freak incident coming so close to erasing you from his life.

He did what he had to. You'll understand. You have to understand.

"Hey," he says, hands raised to you placatingly, as if coaxing a spooked wild animal. The blood just makes his crimson gloves look glossy. He blocks your view of the body. "Hey, it's alright."

Your terror is palpable in the race of your heart and the sour smell of adrenaline coursing through you.

He reaches for you with the hand that isn't drenched in viscera, but before he can take hold, you beat him to the punch, throwing yourself into his arms, your own wrapping tight around his middle, hands clasping together beneath his cape.

Caught off guard, Homelander's arms hover awkwardly for a beat before he returns your embrace. He'd been certain that he was the source of your fear after a display like that.

"He just-he tried to kill me," you rasp, tears overflowing, spilling down your cheeks, wetting his suit further. "Yeah, yeah he sure did. S'alright, he's not gonna hurt you again," he coos, stroking your back with one bloodied hand, the other cupping the back of your neck. He kisses the top of your head as you cry, working the shock and fear from your system. "Ssshhh, shhshh."

Looking over his shoulder once, he lifts you up into his arms and takes off gently into the night sky, keeping you gathered close as he flies, carrying you far away from the mess spilled all over the pavement.

Not his problem. His focus is you.

With your face buried in the crook of his neck, he can feel your tears rolling down into the collar of his suit, can smell the sea salt sweetness of them. He's never let you see that side of him before. When the shock wears off, will you see the moment for what it was?

Will you realize how much he enjoyed it?

Landing on his balcony, your arms are still tight around his neck. Neither of you have said a word since take off. He's not sure where your head is, other than the fact your racing heart has slowed to a more natural—albeit still nervous—patter.

Inside, he sets you down gently on your feet. Your balance wavers, and he settles you with his hands on your hips, staining your clothing with smears of dark blood.

He's almost afraid of breaking the tenuous quiet, but he needs to know where your head is. When you glance away, are you looking towards the door, planning your escape?

His hands tighten reflexively on your hips, and your eyes spring back up to meet his.

"You okay?" He asks quietly, warily.

"Yeah," you say, though it's hardly convincing.

"You're in shock," he says, touching the side of your face. Enough of the blood has been wiped on your clothes that it doesn't transfer much to your skin. "You remember what happened?"

Maybe your distress will leave you malleable enough for him to shape the incident just right. Make sure that you remember first and foremost that- "You saved me," you say, cutting his thoughts short. "That man was trying to hurt me, and you... you saved me."

His brows lift, surprised to hear you say it first. "Yeah. Course I did."

"You were so..." You trail off, gaze moving along his features.

Apprehension prickles from his spine all the way up to the back of his neck. He's accustomed to being scolded for his brutality by Madelyn, or looked on with thinly veiled disgust by Maeve.

They're both long gone from his life now, yet he finds himself waiting with bated breath for your response, his throat tight under the gripping hands of the ghosts of his past.

"Amazing," you exhale, banishing his specters with the sweeping wind of your breath. "God, I've never been that scared in my life, but you reacted so fast. No one has ever protected me like you do," you say, cupping his blood spattered face in your palms, smearing it into thin pink swaths across his skin with your thumbs.

He breaks into a slow, pleased smile. "Well, you've never been with anyone like me before."

"No," you agree. He can still feel a slight tremor in your hands, your body still coming down from the adrenaline high. "And I never will."

That strokes his ego deliciously. He likes the finality in your voice, the dreamy way you're looking at him, even as the smell of blood hangs heavily in the air. He almost kisses you before he remembers he's got the blood of some random thug all over his face.

"I need a shower," he says, lips close enough that his breath teases yours.

"Me too. Guess we'll have to share," you say, feigning resignation.

He grins. "Uh oh."

In the bathroom, Homelander makes quick work of undressing, but you're faster. You're already in the large shower, steaming water pouring down from above. He steps in with you, letting the water wash over you both. The water turns pink as it carries the blood away, and then sudsy as you both soap and shampoo the mess of the day from you bodies.

Once he's rinsed, he slips in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I love you," he says at your ear, trailing kisses down to the lobe, to your neck. He loves the feel of goosebumps rising against his lips.

"I love you, too," you respond as you have a thousand times before. Maybe more. He stopped counting when he was sure you'd never stop.

"How much?" He prompts, hungry for more. Your praise and assurance after a moment of such uncertainty has only made him desperate for more. He wants to wring more pretty words of admiration from you, hear more of just how good he is to you.

He can't help but color your answer with a slip of his hand between your thighs, toying with your clit.

The touch earns a shivering sigh from you. "So much. More than I can stand sometimes," you say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"I thought you'd be scared of me after seeing what you saw... What I'm capable of," he murmurs, pillowing the reminder with deft, wet fingers. "Are you?"

You shake your head. "No, m'not, mmm... You'd never hurt me," you say, breath hitching as his fingers slip in further, fingertips stroking the lips of your pussy.

"Never," he echoes, his other hand slotting over your throat just to feel each noise you make. He pulls you back flush to his body, presses his hardening cock to the curve of your ass with his a shaky groan. "I liked it," you admit quieter, moaning when he slides his middle finger inside you. The confession stirs something primal in him, makes him growl out a rough little noise against your skin, grinding his cock into you.

"I wanted to rip his fucking guts out for touching you," he says, working another finger into you, savoring the slick, velvet feel of you around them. "For trying to take you from me." His words make your cunt quiver. He can't help himself, has to pull them from you just to taste you, sucking the nectarine sweet flavor from his fingers, rolling his tongue between them, hungry for every ounce of it.

He moans around his own fingers when you reach back and take his cock firmly in your hand, jerking him slowly. "I want you inside me," you say, your legs spreading slightly, back arching into him. "Touch me until yours is the only one I remember."

Fuck. Yes, that he can do.

You let go of his cock, and he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding himself between your wet, soft thighs. You close your legs, earning a breathy noise from him as he rocks between them, the warm, wet heat of your cunt a tease along the top of his cock.

"Take me," he murmurs fervently at your ear. "Wanna be in you, feel you, fuck you, make your pussy mine."

Shuddering against him, you reach down between your legs. Pressing your fingers to the underside of his cock, you push it up as he moves forward, the thick head of it catching on your entrance and splitting you open in one long, slow thrust.

Christ, you're so fucking tight. He can feel your muscles contracting, flexing, pulling him deeper. Your cunt feels made for him.

No one will ever take you away from him.

His right hand goes across your chest, cupping your left breast and rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger while he braces you tighter to him. He rolls his hips slowly at first, relishing the tight, slippery pull of your cunt before he begins to pick up a proper pace.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He grits out, the slap of naked skin against skin loud in the shower. "Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels like being fucked by the fucking sun," you moan, gripping his arms, useless for anything other than taking his cock when he holds you like this. "Hot, you're so hot inside me, and I can feel... I can feel you holding back, it's like you're vibrating," you say, voice catching with every solid thrust. "It's like... it's like getting as much as I can take from something so much bigger than me."

He doesn't know what he expected to hear, but it isn't that. The idea that you can feel the true gravity of his power behind each restrained thrust drives him wild, makes him want to give you more, but he knows he can't. Not without breaking you. Sweet, frail, human thing that you are.

If he could, he would break you apart, fuck you until you fall to pieces in his hands, and then he would put every single fragment back where it belongs, but he can't. If he breaks you, he will lose you.

He needs you to survive him.

"Fuck, fuck," he rasps, holding you that slight bit tighter, lifting you nearly off your feet as he arches his back, lifting and dropping you onto every thrust of his hips. "M'gonna come," he says, voice reedy. "Come with me, let me feel you. I know you're close, can fuckin' feel it. Touch yourself for me, sweetheart."

Immediately, you drop a hand to your clit, the tips of your fingers brushing where he's pounding into you. The touch must be electric because you jolt against him. "I am, I am," you whine, rubbing yourself, the pleasure making you squirm.

"M'gonna count us down, alright? And you, mmmgh, you're gonna come with me," he says, already fighting to hold himself back. Your cunt is only getting tighter the closer to release you get, making it hard for him to stay focused.

"Five... four," he manages to say, desperately holding onto his final tethers of control. You're beyond speech now, reduced to nothing more than desperate, needy noises as you finger your clit, not even bothering to try and hold yourself up while Homelander mercilessly bounces you on his cock,

"Three... two..." His words are strained, balls drawn up tight, cock throbbing in the slick grip of your cunt. He needs to come so bad it makes his toes curl, but he won't let go until he feels you coming undone.

"One..."

One, two, three more thrusts, and you're screaming his name, knees curling up, your whole body tightening like a vice. The spasm of your orgasm rips his clean out of him, has him gasping into the crook of your neck.

He comes so hard his vision goes white, every movement halting, his focus purely on the ardent pounds of his cock emptying deep inside you, flooding you so thoroughly that the excess spill back down his shaft, his balls, mingling with the hot water and making him shiver from head to toe.

When he can, he takes in a deep, shuddering breath, easing his hold on you, though not by much. You're all but limp in his arms, panting, head lolled back against his shoulder. He lets the water run on the two of you a little while longer, savoring the aftershocks of your release before gingerly slipping out of you.

Carefully, he rubs the water between your thighs, tenderly cleaning you, kissing your neck, your shoulder.

"That was..." You trail off, words half slurred, and then you just laugh softly, the marvel clear in your voice.

He laughs, too, his own voice frayed. "Sure was."

The two of you put as much effort as it takes to get dry before making your way to bed, slipping beneath the cool sheets and rapidly warming them with your bodies, Homelander's in particular. He's always run hot, and you seem extra appreciative for it tonight, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his arms.

"I love you," you mumble sweetly.

Homelander draws the covers up over your shoulders before slipping his arm around you, drawing you into the warm, safe circle of his arms. "And I love you," he purrs, gently rolling his knuckles up and down your back.

You look peaceful, he thinks, watching as you begin to drift to sleep. He's sure it helps that he wore you out so thoroughly, but still, he'd anticipated that the shock of the evening would still have you worked up. It could be that you're still processing, that the trauma will return in nightmares that follow you into the night.

Maybe the threat of a rat simply makes less of an impact when you're cradled in the jaws of a lion.

Regardless, should you sleep fitfully or peacefully, he will be here.

No force in this would can keep him from you.

[yanderenightmare]

Can we get one of my man geto 🫢 just him getting turned on by seeing the way he makes you cry.

Geto Suguru

TW: yandere, dubcon/noncon, punishment, Geto using the word monkey, reader has no cursed energy

gn reader

He unleashes gross curses on you every now and again when you get bratty with him. Harmless but effective – the ones that swallow up half your body and make you scream for him to help you. 

He sits peacefully, elbows on his knees with his head resting in his palm – one eye closed and the other observing you in amusement with a tiny smirk playing on his lips – watching you squirm.

Your whiney whimpers make him chuckle as he lazily gets up. Letting it get to your throat before leisurely lifting a large hand, exorcising it with a single simple swipe.

It disperses without a fight and you stumble to the floor trembling, breaths chocked and eyes wild while he crouches down to your level, cradling you as you shiver with hitched sobs – still feeling hundreds of wet tongues and curious fingers fondling every inch of your body, ears ringing with the distorted lustful utterings of all the things the filthy curse was planning on doing to you.

“Gonna behave for me now, monkey?” He questions softly, his smirk having relaxed into a gentle smile as he tucked a loose lock of hair behind your ear – seemingly affectionately.

But there’s no doubt he has zero respect for you, you think, remaining silent while looking up into those slitted eyes of his – feeling like a mouse being toyed with by a cat, lying wounded in its claws.

He lays his warm palm against your cheek, and you flinch with a sharp intake – offering but small whimpers as he holds your face and those big peeled eyes that look up at him in pure terrified dread. Only returning your cowering with a soft-spoken threat. “It’s either me or more monsters.” 

“No-” You gulp, urgently clutching the drapey sleeve of his yukata. “I’ll behave- I promise- I’m sorry- please… no more monsters.” You cry against his chest, muffled with tears while burying your face, yet still coherent enough to make him gently pat your head in response.

“Alright then.” He hums soothingly, pleased – his smile only widening when scooping your legs up, lifting you from the floor, and carrying you back all those confusing hallways you’d just run down. His steps – unbothered and slow – are satisfied in a sense as he holds you to his chest, returning you to his room, where he sets you down on the bed like before.

You sink down in it, your face damp from the tears. Raw and still choking back sniffles, your lips quiver in comprehension as he curls a finger beneath your chin and lifts your head to receive his lips.

He gives you tongue, and you accept it with a weak moan, dropping your back against the duvet in defeat while feeling him crawl over you. Bed creaking under the weight and sending shivers through you.

His hand, big and warm, brushes over your thigh, lifting your tattered nightshirt on his way to rub circles into your midriff with his lips still caught on yours, licking at the sweet salt of freshly fallen tears slipping down your cheeks – groaning at the taste.

He undoes the knots to his layers and lets it all slip to the floor unceremoniously, revealing pale muscles before he bears back down against you – mouth open and clashing against yours with a hungry growl. 

His lips soon slip from yours down your neck, nibbling on your collar before leaving suckling kisses on your chest, and you’re reminded of the offending mouths who'd been licking your skin only a while ago – feeling his hand knead the flesh of your thighs, exploring the space between them, quite like the horny digits who'd earlier been exploring you just the same…

And you’re left to wonder if there’s really any difference at all.