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kitkat13001 · 2 months ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆ 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜

>> touya todoroki x reader

>> hero au, starts sad ends cute, established relationship, kinda cheesy touya but wtv 😋

it’s depressing, sitting here in the middle of your apartment all by yourself. if you were with the others, you would be having the time of your life right now. himiko and jin had promised to a throw a legendary christmas party this year. they’d even convinced tenko to go, which was a feat next to impossible.

but you’re not at the party. you’re sitting here, on the couch in front of the christmas tree, all by yourself in the middle of the apartment. alone.

you’ve been nursing a cup of hot chocolate to try and fill the empty space inside you, void of warmth, but it’s been cold for a while now.

there’s christmas music playing in the background on the radio, and like it can read your mind, the infamous ‘all i want for christmas is you’ comes on. the singing voices are almost mocking you, their cheeriness the exact opposite of the way you feel.

you know you should at least be trying to have some fun. you’ve got messages from all your friends sending pictures of the party, checking in on you, telling you it’s not too late to come over. you still can’t make yourself get up from this couch, and with your attitude right now, its probably best you stay home anyway.

touya was out on some mission or another. you’d pleaded with endeavor to let him stay, but no dice. it was last minute and he needed the backup. leave it to enji to make his son work on christmas eve.

you flick the radio off irritatedly, the room going silent.

you sigh, leaning back into the couch, and turn on the tv, just for white noise. the grinch is playing faintly, but your eyes are closed.

it’s eight pm. and you’re tired. you don’t remember the last time you were tired at eight pm.

eventually you drift off in your misery, floating between sleep and consciousness.

touya rolls his eyes at the obnoxiously loud christmas music coming from down the hall. damn rowdy neighbors.

his key jingles in the door and it creaks loudly as he cracks it open. touya winces, hoping the noise won’t notify you.

he’s surprised to find your sleeping form curled on the couch, a cold chocolate on the coffee table and a blanket draped over you haphazardly.

he sets his things down, the dull thud of his bag hitting the ground and the rustle of his coat being put on the hook.

touya hums softly, the song from the car radio stuck in his head.

“i’ll be home for christmas,” he murmurs, pulling the blanket up to cover your whole body. “you can plan on me.”

he sinks onto the couch, maneuvering so your head is resting in his lap.

“please have snow,” he sings softly, stroking your hair. “and mistletoe.”

he eyes the living room, all the decorations you had put up while he was gone. trying to cheer yourself up, probably. the thought made touya’s heart squeeze.

“and presents by the tree.”

his gaze falls on the small array of presents underneath the christmas tree. there weren’t many, given that it was just you and him in the small apartment, but just the idea of wanting to give each other something was more than enough for touya.

“i’ll be home for christmas,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “if only in my dreams.”

you give a sleepy mumble and crack one eye open with a lopsided grin.

“you’re not santa claus.”

he chuckles. “no, but i figured this was better.”

you cling to him, nuzzling your head into his torso. your vice grip on him doesn’t lighten.

“you’re home.”

“yeah, doll. i’m home.”

divider by @/saradika-graphics — more holiday fluff, for touya this time 😋 hope you like. if you want to submit a holiday request, try to get them in this week please! 🩷🩷 - 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 !

#touya todoroki x reader #mha x reader #touya todoroki #touya x reader #touya x y/n #touya fluff #dabi fluff #dabi x reader #dabi mha #mha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #touya todoroki fluff #kitty.writes!

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ghostarii · 2 months ago

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HALLUCINOGEN (LOSING YOUR MIND), KAFKA

ʚɞ blurred lines of reality and illusions, meistered by an illusory manifestation of deep desires and wanton bliss bring about an enlightenment far beyond anything holy.

WARNINGS ݈݇- fem!reader, praise, slapping, nipple play, spit, hair pulling, cunnilingus, overstimulation, implied inexperienced!reader, biblical(?) references but no explicit relation, fingering, corruption kink, kafka teasing, minors & non nb/wlw do not interact.

NOTE ݈݇- soo . . . i won’t get into where i’ve been but just know i’m going through a lot And desperately need a distraction. i’ve turned my brain off n wrote this w my pssy so if it gets crazy blame her! jus in need of som mindless horny fun 😞😞

WORD COUNT ݈݇- 3.3k

COLORFUL STROBES FLICKER WITH reckless abandon, jumping in excited juxtaposition to the smooth, dance beat that plays through the speakers. Lucidity fills the room—you’re hyper-aware yet unconscious: watching everything from an existential position and you're drunk off the omnipotence. It coats your body in this mesmerizing feel beyond comprehension. Something so shimmery and soft that you find comfort in it, yet houndingly aggressive that you're thrashed around in its throes. It only amplifies as time passes and you can't feel any fucking better.

Everything feels intense. On a molecular level, you can feel everything, and it’s a sensation that’s beyond your expectations. It's like…subhuman—or, no, rather, extraterrestrial: akin to otherworldly intensities that cannot be created nor replicated on Earth. You are somewhere else, reaching the heights beyond existence that bathe you in sweaty warmth and glittery kisses.

Not Heaven nor Nirvana, but something nameless. Something seedier and gutsy, gnarled in debauched patterns of unholiness and temptations, wrong in every right way, and bad in every good way. Where or whatever it is is uncharted but it is shared— and you’d stay here with her until it fades into nothingness.

You will stay here with her until it fades into nothingness. She is the nucleus of this illusory ecstasy-scape, and in her hands, you are guided along a path of pure, unadulterated, fantasy.

She is made up of raw vulgarity: it in its purest form as something seduces you into her proximity, begging you to bite the apple and see the light.

Just do it, it’d be so easy.

Don’t you want to taste it? The juice…the sweetness…feel the bite in your jaw?…

Put your mouth to it, let it lead you…

The voice in your head is distant yet wholly present. Almost as though it were whispering in your ear while directing your movements, pushing you deeper into the darkness. Where the light doesn't reach and the ambiguity of the following heightens is where it dwells: perfect, round, and red—shiny and plump and enticing—

Doesn't it look delicious?

It does.

Grab it, then.

It's in your hands now. Caressing it, you admire its magnificence. Soft skin, unplagued by irregularities and blemishes, rosy and inviting.

Bite it.

You lean in.

Head cocked at an opportune angle, lips parted readily, you lean forward…

A bite like a kiss…

A kiss like a bite?

Tender nibbles upon contact quickly morph into sloppy openings. Everything slops and clashes together, fighting aggressively in search of a fix. Fill that hungry, haunting void that grumbles in your stomach, aching terribly for sustenance.

You moan for it— whimpering a pathetic Please against her mouth and resting your forehead against hers. “Gimme…”

She laughs, cupping your pouty face in her palms. “Sweet girl,” she says, pecking your lips. “What do you need from me?”

Everything.

Her kisses feel like pillows all over your face. Gentle presses in a scattered manner, showering you with tender affection that blooms in your chest.

The heft that controlled your body has now morphed into feather-lightness—as though you weigh nothing and are floating across the Heavens. The colorful lights and bass-boosted music have ceased and you now reside in a dark room, illuminated by a single, dim night table lamp and ambient light leaking through crimson curtains. A bed sits beneath you, soft like clouds and cushioning you as you’re laid down on it, limbs stretched beneath her straddling.

She continues to kiss down your body, leaving your face and heading South to your neck, where her mouth latches and suckles on the skin. Your body has an immediate reaction: your eyes are fluttering closed and your hips are gyrating upwards, where your core catches her thigh and the throb that pumps through it harshens. You gasp out, grabbing the back of her head and tangling your fingers through her plum locks, pulling out the ponytail holder and letting limp curls coil down your forearm.

“You taste so good..so sweet,” she mumbles, pulling at the flimsy fabric of your top until the fabric screeches, a tear forming in the center. She continues to pull until the red garment is split in half, discarded to the side, and leaving you in your white bra. It's decorated in lace swirls and vines across the cups, peeking over in a rosette border that teases your assets. Enveloped in intricacies, you’re displayed beneath her as a decadent confection—ready to be devoured into nothingness. “I can’t get enough of you.” She says.

The silver clasp glints in her eye as it sits between your cleavage, asking for a break as your breasts hold it hostage. “May I?”

“Please,” you breathe out. At your heed, she pulls the hook apart with ease, and your boobs jump out of their confines.

She helps you shrug the material off your shoulders, soon tossing it off the side of your cloud-bed and leaving you bare from the waist up. You don't try to cower under attention. Instead, you revel in it, bathing in the rose tint she views you in and presenting yourself.

Humor is found in your actions, and she can't help but crack a smile at you. Her hand drives up from your navel and passes through the valley of your breasts to grapple around your neck. Fingers immediately press on the pressure points in your neck, making your [already] heavy eyes droop harder and your lips purse and part. You're lifted slightly off the bed, inches away from her face as she hovers over you.

“I don't know where to start,” she says, softly. “There’s so many things I want to do to you.”

“Do it all.” You lean up, chasing the distant feel of her lips. She hesitates to indulge you, going back and forth between leaning in and creating distance, leaving her in a silent push and pull where she defiantly fights the magnetism. “I'm all yours—”

“Mm mm.” She hums, shaking her head. She can't do this, she can't do you.

You nod your head, almost eagerly, chasing her lips. “Use me.”

No. She shakes her head no, leaning further back.

“Take me.” You say, following her actions.

No. I can’t.

“Ruin me.”

Her hand weakens around your neck, and you're quick to grab it, returning it to its place around your neck. Your eyes are polished and wide, wordlessly begging her for attention.

Meek squeaks slip out of your mouth as her grip returns, the pressure she applies being much tighter and more restrictive than previously. Still, your lips still find the courage to pull into a small smile, parting and making way for the whisper your voice has turned into. “Kafka,” you moan out, her name heavy on your tongue, “fuck me.”

She sits before you, sweet purplish hair framing around her pale frame, juxtaposing the deep, salacious fuschia that glares at you. An almost taunting glow emits from her as she ponders her next course of action— should she turn her mind off and act aimlessly, or should she retreat with sensibility? She's already come thus far, she’s already molded you in her palm, she's already invented a paradise for you…it is yours to defile as you please.

If you must beg her so wantonly, as though you’ll die without feeling her version of pleasure, she must forfeit the fight and succeed in the throes of ecstasy. She has been tempted.

Your wish is obliged with care. She pins you beneath her, diving back into where she left off with a searing fervor. Her lips leave stains of her red lipstick smeared across your chest, trailing streakily across the surface until she kisses around your right tit.

A line is drawn by her tongue from beneath your underboob area to your areola, pebbling the skin in her wake. Your nipples perk and harden, the left immediately becoming a target of bullying from her pinching fingers. Sharp, black almond nails cover the bud as she tweaks it harshly, immediately subduing your wince by licking over your right nipple.

Her eyes stay on your face as she enacts so, carefully dancing her tongue over and around it until she sucks it into her mouth, mimicking the suction with the pinch of her fingers. You moan out, throwing your head back and greeting the swirling sight of stars and glimmering streaks. They paint upon a blacked-out view, covering the inside of your eyelids with the visual manifestation of how you feel. Elated. Content. Pleasured. Something you've never felt before and it is…wow.

“Kaf…” you meekly whimper, unable to even say the rest of her name. Your hand presses her face closer to your chest, almost aiming to slowly ease your entire body into her mouth. It feels so fucking good— like nothing you've ever felt before and you don't want her to stop.

Your body is warm to the touch and it feels like your veins are pumping pure stardust. Her tongue swirls and loops around your nipple, slopping spit and vocal vibrations all over the sensitive bud, eliciting the sweetest broken moans from you. They're unabashed and full of weight, carrying the load of untouched desire.

How long have you been waiting for this?

Too long.

Was it worth the wait?

So, so worth it.

What do you want next?

“Touch me.” You don't even mean to say it out loud, but it slips out amongst the flurry of gasps you puff. Hips bucking desperately in search of something only to meet a sufficient source once every few thrusts. It’s not enough, you need the tingle between your legs tended to. “G-Goddammit, Kaf, please…”

She needs not another instruction, simply obliging your request with her hand making work of your pants, undoing the pesky clasps. Separating from you, she uses the opportunity to rid of her shirt, sliding her pants down her legs and kicking it all to the floor. Her hands grab at the belt loops, tugging the tight fabric slowly down your legs while maintaining eye contact.

Don’t take your eyes off me.

She doesn't even need to say it. You know it— as though it were an innate action hardwired into your very being.

You watch her intently as your pants are finally pulled off your legs, leaving the limbs angled up on her chest. Discarding your pants to the side, she runs her hands up and down your legs, kissing down the left from your ankle to your shin, to your knee, to your thigh, over to the other leg, and going back up.

“So patient..good girl. Letting me take my time with you…” she says, breathily. Kissing back down your leg, slowly positioning herself eye-level with your cunt. She licks a line from your hamstring to your panty-clad cunt, eyes still never leaving you. She kisses firmly on the wet spot that stretches over the seat of your white panties, leaving the remnants of her lipstick on the fabric in a kiss mark. You’re hot, throbbing, and soaking— primed for her demolition. “Want me here?”

You nod furiously, pushing yourself into her face. “Need you there.” You correct, hooking your fingers under the band of your underwear and awkwardly shimmying the garment off.

“Needy little thing, aren't you?” She muses, tucking her hair behind her ears. You slowly unveil yourself to her, letting the stuffy air draft over your wetness, pushing shivers down your spine. “Just waiting and waiting..oh, ‘m sorry…”

The prettiest pussy she’s ever seen awaits her attention. Eagerly beating at her, your cunt drools and shines, drowning itself in an overwhelming amount of arousal that even beads off the curve of your ass. All of this for her, only for her, because of her…Kafka might just be the luckiest woman in the universe.

She wedges herself tighter between your legs, feeling the heat that burns in you and smelling the sweetness just waiting to be swallowed. Her eyes go back up to you, catching the tears of frustration building, and her smile breaks wider.

“‘M sorry for making you wait so long.”

Spread ‘em.

You spread your legs wider to make space for her head, immediately throwing your head back when her exhale fans over your cunt.

Her tongue darts immediately toward your slobbering hole, licking up the tracks of arousal that spill down the fat of your ass. She slams her dominant hand down on your cheek, giving it a soft rub as she giggles at your wince-whimper combination. Her tongue draws looping circles around your entrance, slipping down and licking up the stray beads. She then drives it back up to your hole, pushing the muscle into your tight entrance with little force. Your eyes shoot open and you're adjusting to the new sensation, watching her intently as she creates a hard pace: in, out, in, out until she flickers the tip of her tongue over your fluttering hole and licks a flat strip halfway up through your folds before repeating.

The taste of you is already intoxicating. Unparalleled to anyone before you— you are pure and dripping raw ecstasy, lighting her body up in the wake of lightning. She can't get enough and moans into your cunt, rolling and spinning her tongue around your walls.

She hooks your right leg over her shoulder, slinking her arm beneath the limb and slithering her fingers to your neglected clit. Just hovering over the bud makes you shiver and buck into her mouth, so she takes the initiative to drive you fucking insane. Kafka must have some sort of magic touch, or she can read you like a first-grade book, because she presses down on the bud, rubbing it in a smooth back and forth. Your mind immediately short circuits and you're back on that illusory plane, feeling everything with such great intensity that you feel your orgasm building already.

Clenching around her tongue and bucking into her mouth lets Kafka know that you're about to cum. She pulls off, building up a ball of spit on her tongue and dropping it off between your folds.

Her ministrations on your clit cease as she uses her two fingers to part your labia, licking boldly between your lips and collecting a heap of sticky slick on her tongue. She hums contently, swallowing down the fluid with dramatized vocalizations and intense eye contact.

“You taste so good, baby.” She moans, sliding her left hand into her panties. She begins touching herself, grinding on her hand while licking the taste of you off her lips. “Want you to cum in my mouth, okay? Make..a big mess for me,”

She moans out so vulgarly, letting her hand on your pussy falter and tickle over your puffy clit.

It's only now that you see Kafka: untamed. This is her in her rawest form— lust-gone and hungry. Wasting no time in leaning forward and attacking your clit, sucking the bud with such eagerness that she hollows her cheeks, squeaking our obnoxious sucking sounds that bounce off the walls. The suction is so harsh that you can't help but screech, grabbing her hair and pulling the handful of locks taut against her skull.

You can tell she likes that. So you do it again, simultaneously humping into her mouth.

Be rough.

She tries to pull back but you keep her there, forcing her nose to sit atop the mound of your pussy and asphyxiating her slowly.

Be mean.

“That's it— l-like that..! F-fuck, Kaf,” you sputter, the new flickering of her tongue over your clit eliciting sharp rods of lightning to pierce all over your body. You have no control over the moans that leave your mouth because your body is so beyond itself—receiving a kind of satisfaction never experienced before and it's reveling in that, boiling itself in pure heat and pushing out creamy bubbles. “Fuck—make me cum.”

She forces her head up against the behest of your hand, gasping in a big heap of air. Her face is flushed and wet, wearing the effect your pussy leaves on her, and yet, it still earns a piercing slap that sends her head in the opposite direction.

Oh, good. That was good.

Before you can stumble out an apology, she sneers at you. “Yeah? Is that how you're feeling?”

You didn't mean to do it—you don't know what came over you— “N-no—”

“Do it again.”

Kafka’s word is absolute and you have no room to disobey. You cock your arm back and swing, slapping her with a lot less force than before.

She grabs your hand and forces it to the back of her head, and you instinctively grab onto the hair. “Remember what you do to me…” she says, sticking her fingers into her mouth and suckling on the digits. Just as she pops them out of her mouth and directs them to your pussy, she looks back up at you. “You’re in control. Make me.”

Famous last fucking words.

The next few actions are melted together in a blur of galaxies and tears, ceasing to have a tangible visual but proceeding to wreck your body into oblivion. Kafka has sucked your clit until it's swollen, pleading to be left alone but consistently the target of merciless abuse. It doesn't help that it acts as though it were a self-destruct button—every ministration rendering your body stiff and turbulent: quivering beneath rigid curlings and tightenings.

You’re coasting through the skies with her head working between your legs, sucking the taste right off your pussy until it cries some more. It is an endless cycle of overwhelming pleasure that only builds upon itself, forming into an unstable, grandeur tower of lusty goodness that threatens to come crashing down.

She licks and sucks fervently, determined to yank your orgasm from your depths and taste the purest essence of you. And you are a victim to it— pulling half of her hair into a makeshift ponytail and fucking yourself on her face, desperately chasing the epicenter of your orgasm to make it let go.

“F-fucking me s-so good, Kaf—!” You squeal, feeling your stomach bubble and tighten. “C-close!!!”

Let go.

It's too much. It's so fucking good—good Lord—

Just cum.

Rightthererightthere– “Hnngggh—just like t-that! Shit!”

She sucks so hungrily on your pussy, eating you like a rabid dog on a fresh piece of meat. Her tongue is doing this you can't even describe and the images you see as a result are skewed.

Pretty visuals of clouds raining intergalactic hearts over a foggy sky and lightning streaks of ecstasy fill your fucked up head, imitating the euphoric feeling imposed on your body. You're so close—your body twitches and your eyes cry, pleasured sobs leaving your mouth as everything good attacks you all at once.

Be a good girl. Cum.

Kafka’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she feels your floodgates break— the orgasmic wave pushing out of your pussy and all over her face. The cry that's ripped from your throat is visceral and guttural, tearing your throat to shreds and rendering you a weeping mess.

If getting eaten felt good, orgasming feels even better. It feels cosmic—irreplaceable and delectable from beginning to end. And Kafka fucks you through it, flicking her tongue through your folds and slurping up your juices with a wide smile.

Give in; let it take you.

Stuck in the heat of euphoria, you only float higher to heights uncharted, soaring freely. Light reaches out to you in fragmented rays, calling to you in the galactic darkness to follow its way.

This is goodness. Everything holy and unholy; everything sacred and desecrated; everything clean and everything dirty; a culmination of unchained, terrific bliss right in your core.

It was always there, you just needed it out of you.

Now that you have it, nothing will be the same. So long as it still exists.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr x reader #honkai smut #hsr fanfic #honkai x reader #hsr smut #kafka smut #kafka x reader #kafka x reader smut #hsr kafka #kafka x you #kafka x fem reader #hsr x you #kafka fanfic #wlw smut #lesbian

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flutteringfable · 2 months ago

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because ive been more focused on cleaning the base than getting signals in votv, im just imagining getting a million emails from dr bao like "BRO STOP PLEASE JUST DO YOUR FUCKING JOB"

#fable talks 💫#and then theres me stuffing trash into item boxes to sell without a care in the world #this game scratches my neurodivergence so well its kind of like powerwash sim but better #because you can also get money for trash u clean up and theres plenty of time to do it while signals download :3 #and theres an option for custom assets for tvs; the radio; and ofc stuff like flags and posters #i really really really like voices of the void if it wasnt obvious. its so fun #shoutout to yuzuya for playing it on stream and getting me invested

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miirohs · 1 month ago

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love bites [l.d.n]

pairing: Vampire!Lando Norris x GN!Reader wc: 1.5k cw: dub-con to slight non-con, this is lowkey just me being horny an: its the way this was suppose to come out in october (halloween) then on christmas (yesterday) but i went and put this off a grand total of like 5000 different times like...... the title has nothing to do with this whatsoever LOL

You were sure this wasn’t how Lando wanted to spend his night, forced to bite air as you grinned at his misery from under him, forced inches away from you despite the fact that you could freely feel him up.

It was like the air had stiffened up in the room, and despite the window being cracked open, tension between you almost seemed to mount as he tried to figure out what you’d done.

You could clearly see the sweat percolating on his bare skin with how close he was to you, forming a soft sheen in the moonlight with how hot and bothered he was becoming. His breathing was uneven, pupils blown wide even in the darkness of your room.

It was almost endearing, save for the sharp glint of his fangs as he barely held back a snarl at your teasing. You could almost imagine what it’d feel like with him running his teeth through your neck, and you shivered at the thought.

He wasn’t happy at all, but you? Oh, you were having the time of your life with this.

"You think this is funny?" He snapped, voice rough and frayed as his eyes ran up and down your neck. He wasn’t even trying to hide his hunger, eyeing you down as if deciding what he wanted to do with you first when he got his hands on you.

“Maybe,” you stifled a snicker, unable to hide your grin as you inspected his face. “Do you like it? I think this necklace you gave me is really my favorite now.”

His muscles ticked as he glared at you, clearly unimpressed by your antics. His whole body was betraying just how much restraint he was exercising, and you were gleeful. "Fun?" he repeated, lowering his voice. "You think this is fun, I'll show you fun when I tear apart your little witch friends, whichever one of them enchanted this for you.”

You shrugged, tangling your fingers in his damp curls, pulling gently at them while he clenched his jaw. “Not my fault, I just thought it would be kind of funny to see you try. Maybe you shouldn’t have tried some of those antics earlier this week, huh?”

For a moment, you thought he might finally snap, might try to rip it off your neck. But instead, he just let out a low laugh, earning a slight flinch from you. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” He seethed. “Playing games like this. You really wanna keep testing me like this sweetheart?”

The sudden spike in his anger had you scrambling to cover, scoffing to hide your alarm. “It’s just a little fun, Lando. Plus, it’s not like you’re dying of hunger, right? You can live with this for a couple hours.”

Lando’s gaze darkened at your words, and the smile faltered on your lips as you noticed how still he’d gone. “Oh, come on, you’re not actually mad, are you Lando?” His silence was unnerving you, and you barely regained your composure as you watched him shift again, ignoring as you tapped his arm for his attention.

“Lan? Are you upset with what I did because- ” you started cautiously, your hand reaching up to fiddle with the chain.

“No, I’m not.” he murmured, voice void of the pulsing anger from before. The shift caught you off guard, and alarm bells went off at the softness he was suddenly showing, you could see the calculation in his eyes even as they moved away from you. “I could never stay mad at you, even when you’re testing my patience like you are right now, sweetheart.”

You questioned what was with the sudden change of heart, but you allowed him to lean in nonetheless, letting his lips brush against your temple in the ghost of a kiss. You barely noticed how one of his hands trailed up your body, your breath unconsciously hitching as his thumb grazed the chain.

“This thing...” he started, fingers slowly looping under the chain. “It’s really something, isn’t it? A gift for you, and you’ve gone and weaponized it. Clever girl.”

His fingers tightened around the chain, the metal digging slightly into the back of your neck as he gave an experimental tug.

“But baby,” he continued, voice dripping with honeyed venom, “you should’ve known better than to bite the hand that feeds you, yeah?”

Before you could stop him, he yanked it off, the sound of the metal snapping resounding through the air. You could see the indents of the pattern on his palm, burning him to pull it off.

You froze, mind racing at the realization of what just happened.

Lando’s smile twisted into something predatory as he tossed the broken chain to the side, clearly pleased with himself. “That’s better, isn't it?” he murmured, his fingers brushing over the freed area. “You’d think that they’d at least cast a more durable charm. This burn was barely worth all that struggle.”

You yelped when his head dipped against your neck, pressing his lips to your pulse point and scraping his fangs on the area. His teeth almost broke the skin when he stopped, hovering over the spot for a couple of moments before he stopped to look at you.

“You’re trembling. Are you scared?” you hated the fact that you could hear the layers of satisfaction dripping from his voice, smug and undefeated.

“N-no, no I'm not.” You stuttered, the heat rushing to your face as he pulled back, smirking as your eyes met.

“You sure you wanna lie to me about that baby?” he countered, teasing, “I can hear your heartbeat going crazy in there.”

“I am not scared of you,” you hissed weakly, even as you allowed him to dip back down to your neck, close for comfort. “You can’t-”

“Liar liar,” Lando coaxed mockingly. “And I'm not cruel enough to do what you thought I was going to, not unless you want me to...” He positioned himself to bite again, and you squeezed your eyes shut, expecting the jolt of pain keeping your adrenaline thrumming.

Instead, nothing came, and you jolted as he laughed in your ear.

“You know what? I’ll give you a choice if you so desperately want it.”

Your hands tightened on his forearms, keeping your eyes away from his as your nails dug into his skin. You were already mad, mad enough to let him in, what was just a little more?

“What’s it going to be, sweetheart? You're gonna keep being stubborn?” he interrupted, the kiss on your neck sending jolts of electricity through your body. “Just say the word, or I’ll make that choice for you.”

You didn’t respond, clenching your jaw even as he forced you to look at him, pulling you flush up against him. Your resolve was wavering and he saw it, clear as day.

“I see,” he said finally, his response dripping with mock disappointment. “You’re gonna make it work for it. Have it your way then.”

He sank his teeth into your neck not even seconds later.

The pain was white-hot, spreading through your body, and eventually replaced by warmth radiating from the bite area. Your heartbeat, erratic as it was, slowly started to calm down as well. It was like moving in molasses, fever pitch draining you of energy. The rush of relief from the burn was dizzying, though your nerves were buzzing from the shock all the same.

He’d pulled back enough to give you a glance, breath warm against the puncture marks. You flinched at the sensation, a small whimper escaping your mouth as he tried to shush you.

“Easy, sweetheart," he murmured, tilting your neck and exposing it further. "I’ve got you, just relax."

You felt his words before you could process them, a swipe of his tongue over the wound. However, it just made your head reel, caught by the confusion at what he was doing.

“What are you doing?” You blurted out, trying to meet his shameless eyes even when he pushed your head back to gain access to your neck.

“Cleaning up,” he replied, continuing to smooth over the ache, “Wouldn’t want this to be a mess.”

“God, you’re relentless,” you hissed, jolting back from the sensation. “And you’re not a cat either, so stop licking me like that.”

“Are you sure you really want me to stop? I’m starting to think you might actually like it when I get this close. You sure as hell make it easy for me, if nothing else.” He shrugged, pausing for a moment almost as if inspecting his work.

You glared at him and he ignored it, dipping back down to nip at your shoulder. You hit him, startled by his brazen behavior. Although at this point, you fully expected it from him. Lando pulled back just enough to catch your eyes, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “See? I knew it,” he cackled. “You really are into it. Couldn’t stop yourself, could you?”

“You are insufferable,” you fumed, “in-fucking-sufferable.”

“Maybe,” he replied nonchalantly, leaning in to meet your eyes this time. “But you love it. Admit it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the heat rising in the back of your neck told him everything.

“I’ll take that as a yes, you know it’s a part of my charm, don’t you?”

You hated that he wasn’t entirely wrong.

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arjwrites · 7 months ago

Text

The Space Between- Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: GN!Reader breaks their arm on a hunt and needs a little assistance. This is a Dean version of my other fic Close (Sam x Reader), as requested by @the-scream-story !

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Injury, nudity, strong references to sex. MDNI!

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE! I had so much fun writing this. This is officially the end of my writer's block- I am back in business, baby. I hope you all enjoy!!!

“DAMN IT!” Your voice echoed out of the bathroom from behind the closed door, punctuated with the contents of your toiletry bag crashing to the floor. Instantly regretful of your outburst, you prayed that no one had heard your voice above the dull whir of the bathroom fan and the rushing water cascading against the floor of the tub. The last thing you wanted was for one of the boys to come try to play the knight in shining armor to your damsel in distress.

After making some brief mental calculations, you figured Sam would still be out grabbing food, leaving only Dean in your shared motel room. There was no way he heard you, and even if he had, you doubted he would stir from his current position. When you had headed in for your attempted shower, the man was already reclined in a chair, beer in hand, and engrossed in some sub-par TV show.

Attempted truly was the best word to describe the shower experience so far. Last night’s hunt had landed you with a broken arm, and a long wait at the ER had delayed your return to the motel into the wee hours of the next morning. At this moment, it was 4am and none of you had slept. And you, covered in a mix of dirt, and blood (yours and the creature’s), figured that a quick shower would be the best catalyst for sleep.

But twenty minutes had passed since you had holed yourself up in the bathroom. There were several obstacles that sat between you and a warm, clean nap. Your dominant arm was confined to a cast, providing a myriad of challenges. First was getting off your clothes. Next was wrapping your cast with the ziploc bag and duct tape combo you had armed yourself with. Then was navigating your shower routine, somehow shampooing your hair and scrubbing blood off your body with your weak hand while trying to keep the other clear from the water.

It was an impossible task, but asking for help was not necessarily your forte. Plus, you felt horrible having kept the boys up all night because of your injury. Of course, they waved you off, used to the sleepless nights, taking the late hours in stride and going about their usual post-hunt routines (Sam’s supply run and Dean’s beer and motel TV marathon). Though neither of them would ever admit it, you could see the exhaustion radiating off their every movement, and the guilt ate at you. The last thing you wanted to do was to ask either of them to do you any more favors.

But your hopes of soldiering on independently were crushed in an instant. In a valiant effort to singlehandedly take off your shirt, the tight fabric had become twisted over your head, covering your eyes and trapping your free arm against you. And when your balance was thrown off, you stumbled back, foot catching the shower curtain and bringing the tension rod down with a decisive bang. Shit. There was no way Dean hadn’t heard that.

Your suspicion was quickly met with a firm knock on the bathroom door.

“You alright in there?” Dean’s voice harbored no sign of annoyance, simply concern. So after a few deep breaths and a moment to wriggle your head free from its trap, you conceded to what seemed to be your only option.

“Dean, can you come in?”

Nothing could have prepared Dean for the sight behind the door. There you sat, in a pile of shower curtain and shampoo bottles, one arm pinned to your head and the other pinned to your chest. The shower, still running and void of its curtain, had started to spray down on your fully clothed body, adding insult to injury. Dean’s mouth gaped open for a moment, searching for the words, eyes blinking as he took in the scene.

“Look, I need your help. Please don’t be weird about it. Can you just help me get this shirt off and then I’ll just wrap the cast and hop in-” Your nervous rambling was cut off as Dean lifted you from the floor and sat you down on the closed toilet seat.

“Sweetheart, you’re not doing this by yourself. You’re gonna mess up that cast and I am not going back to that goddamn hospital.” You cringed at the memory of the long hours you, Sam, and Dean had spent under those horrible fluorescent lights. Though his remarks dripped in frustration, nothing about his appearance did- his eyes and lips were graced with the softest echoes of a smile.

You mumbled a few protests but Dean had already set right to work. In a few, swift movements, he had popped the shower curtain back into place, pulled it aside, plugged the drain, and shifted the source of the water down to the bathtub spout. When the water began to pool in the bottom of the tub, he turned back to you.

“Dean, I really don’t need you to do this. I’ll be fine if I can just get this damn shirt off,” you huffed, punctuating your complaint with a few pulls at your restraint. This was exactly what you had feared, and it made it all the more embarrassing because it was Dean. You felt vulnerable and looked ridiculous, and here he was cleaning up your mess and drawing you a bath? Your nerves wound tightly in your stomach as Dean lowered himself to sit on the lip of the tub across from you. The tiny motel bathroom left little room between the two of you, and your knees brushed against each other in your seated positions.

“You’re hurt and I’m helping you. Take it from me, you don’t need to pull the tough guy routine all the time. It’s not gonna help anyone.” It was as if the intensity of his eye contact had taken hold of your entire body. You were frozen in front of him, caught off guard and melting quickly as warmth swelled in your heart. This felt different than the usual Dean. In a way, him helping you in your vulnerabilities seemed vulnerable of him, too. And there was no denying your feelings for the man. In the short few years you had hunted with the brothers, you had developed a soft spot for the older Winchester that you had vowed to never let see the light of day. But your heart was beating hard and fast against your chest, because here he was, right in front of you, reaching in to unbutton your shirt…

You shook the thoughts from your head, recognizing the tenderness of the moment. Off came your shirt, which Dean haphazardly folded and placed on the counter. The intensity that buzzed between the two of you raged on unencumbered for a while. It made you nervous to look at him even a second longer, so you turned your gaze to your jeans, working at the button with your free hand. Dean sat back, letting you work for a moment, before stepping in to help and to dissolve the tension with a joke.

“This might be the longest it’s ever taken someone to take their pants off for me,” he chuckled to himself as he popped the button free with ease.

Your head snapped up to him, your expression tinged with annoyance, but Dean didn’t miss the blush that tinged your cheeks and the smile that threatened to breach the surface. He knew you were unhappy with the situation, a bit anxious and uncomfortable, so he figured he would do what he did best- crack a few jokes. Plus, he had come so close to kissing you right then and there that he needed a way to distract himself.

Dean always knew how to make you laugh. It was one of the things you liked most about him. So any nerves you had about being naked in front of Dean Winchester were easily melted away because you couldn’t help yourself from laughing the whole time. Like head-thrown-back, full-body-shaking laughter. What had started as a challenging and tense situation had boiled down to just simply hanging out with Dean.

He had lowered you into the tub, you clinging to his arm for dear life, until you were sat down, the bubbles in the water providing you just the right amount of coverage to make you feel even more secure. Once you were settled in, Dean took a step back, sitting down to let you get to work. He knew you would want to retain a bit of independence, so he let you work on scrubbing whatever you could with the arm you had, only stepping in when you needed his help. The time was filled with conversation about the previous hunt, wonders about what Sam could possibly bring back for food at this hour, and plenty of shared laughter at Dean’s jokes.

“So I see you don’t have a lifeguard here at your beach,” Dean said, taking on a dramatic tone as if he were playing a character.

“Dean, what are you-”

“No, no, no. You’re supposed to say, ‘I’m not at the beach, this is a bathtub.’” He wagged a finger at you as he corrected your response.

“What the hell are you talking ab- Oh my God! DEAN!” Realizing the origin of the joke he was making, you used your free hand to splash him with the warm soapy water. But you couldn’t even feign frustration- your laughter gave you away.

Things continued on like this for a while- you and your washcloth scrubbing dirt and blood from every corner of your skin, Dean cracking jokes, and occasionally stepping in to offer a hand.

“Look, let me do your hair for you. How the hell are you supposed to do that with one hand?” Dean interjected as you attempted to lather shampoo in your palm.

He kneeled on the floor next to you, taking the bottle into his hands. As he worked, you took time to notice the sensations around you, to ground yourself in the moment. You watched soap bubbles take flight as you moved through the bath. You felt the warm water lapping at your skin, and the gentle circles Dean’s fingers made on your scalp. You could smell the clean scent of the soap that filled the tub, the floral perfume of the shampoo, both mixed with something you could only describe as Dean. He smelled like some combination of the beer he was drinking, his usual cologne, and the lingering sweat and dirt of the day’s hunt. Rarely were you close enough to Dean to be able to smell him, but whenever you did, you relished in the moment. But at this particular moment, his proximity was drawing all of the nerves back into your system. Dean was hovering over your naked body- you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he worked his fingers through your hair. Beyond feeling his touch on your skin, you felt as if you could feel him- his presence, his essence. It was so intimate, so romantic, that your heart swelled and your mind raced to a million and one places. Nevertheless, you remained anchored in the bath, the water and bubbles serving as a shield and the only thing that served to separate the two of you.

When you were finished, all the suds rinsed off your body leaving you squeaky clean, you weren’t sure how to feel. Dean had slipped out of the room to grab you a towel, and though you remained in the tub filled with the warm water and the air hung hot and heavy with humidity, the lack of his presence still made the room feel cold. Sitting alone with your thoughts, even for such a brief moment, you had realized the extent of your feelings, the irreparable mark Dean had left on your heart. In your head, you rifled through a library of moments you two had shared, picturing this morning’s events sliding into place on the shelf as the newest edition of the series.

Stepping back into the room with the towel, Dean handed it over to you before plucking the plug from the drain and helping you rise to your feet. You braced the towel underneath your broken arm and used the other to wrap it around yourself, hoping to restore even a shred of your decency- though there was little point in that anymore. Now there sat a power imbalance in your relationship with Dean- he had all the cards in his hands. So when you stepped out of the tub, you stood square in front of him, determined to level the score somehow.

You lingered for a moment, both of you locked in an intense stare, feeling goosebumps radiate your entire body. At first, you attributed these to your drastic change in body temperature since stepping out of the water, but when you noticed a similar sensation rising over Dean, your perception shifted. Dean cleared his throat.

“So, uh, you want me to help you get dressed?” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck to settle the hairs that had been raised under your intense look.

“Not really.” You murmured in response, looking to him through lidded eyes. The unusual burst of confidence in your system inched you closer and closer, until there was nothing that separated the two of you but the thin towel you had wrapped around your frame.

You channeled every ounce of what you were feeling into your gaze, praying Dean could read your thoughts through your eyes as if you were an open book. When he reached a hand up to cup your face, you knew the message was received. With a slowness that was almost painful, he leaned his forehead against your own, drawing his lips nearly to yours before rerouting them to your cheek, just slightly above their initial destination. After planting the softest kiss, his lips lingered, hovering ever so slightly above you. Dean was in limbo, as if he couldn’t decide whether to pull away and return to safety, or lean in to seal the deal. But you made the choice for him when your hand snaked around the back of his head and pulled him down to you, closing the gap between your lips.

The kiss was everything you had hoped it would be, and yet, nothing you could have ever imagined. Dean was soft and gentle, so cautious of your injury, but you could feel the intensity so thinly veiled below the surface. The energy flowed from both of you, as if you were cautiously exploring something so new and dangerous, yet so incredibly desirable and magnetic. Something needed to break the seal, to throw your cautions to the wind.

You wanted to kiss Dean Winchester forever, and he shared the sentiment. So the only thing that could break you two away was the brief moment when you took a calculated step back. Confusion twisted into Dean’s face, before melting away into desire when you let your towel fall to pool at your feet. He took his own step back, reaching behind him to turn the lock on the bathroom door, before closing the gap between you- the very last time there would ever be space between you and Dean Winchester.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural reader insert #supernatural #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #spn reader insert #dean winchester reader insert

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withleeknow · 10 months ago

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Can I req something for the milestone event with lee know using this prompt „time passes slower without you.”? ✨

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

patience is a virtue, everybody knows that.

you know it too. the only issue? patience is a virtue that you don't have.

you're an impatient person by nature, born with an inherent restlessness within your bones that keys you up more often than you'd like to admit. in school, you were always thinking about your next degree. with work, you're always thinking about the next big thing, the future position you'll hopefully land once you gain enough experience. you're always waiting for something else, constantly looking forward to the days ahead instead of living in the now. it's a personal flaw, you're well aware of this.

it happens when it comes to even the most mundane things. what cafe should you try next weekend, even if you're not even half done with the caramel macchiato you're holding in your hands? what movie should you watch next, even if the one playing on your tv screen hasn't gone into its second act yet?

your impatience already flares up on a daily basis, but it's even more amplified and unbearable whenever minho is away. it doesn't help that he's often gone for weeks, if not months on end. you're always counting down the days until he's back before he's even out the door.

"just one more week, yeah?"

his words hang heavy in the silence of your bedroom. your phone is on speaker, set against the pillow next to yours so you could pretend like he's here with you when you close your eyes. you try to facetime every day even if it's only for fifteen, twenty minutes. just to catch up on each other's day and at least see each other for a while before you go to sleep. it's bittersweet, being able to look at him and hear him talk but only from the digital void of your phone.

even though you tend to hide from him how you really feel, how much you actually miss him and wish for him to be back by your side, you think it must still bleed through from time to time. be it the subtle way your voice drops during conversation or how your eyes glaze over with sadness just a little bit when you stare at his handsome face for too long on video call.

you know minho is trying to comfort you. he wouldn't be a very good partner if he can't tell that his own girlfriend is having a hard time without him, would he? and it's not like you bitch and moan any chance you get. no, you always try to hide it from him because it's not his fault that he has to be away sometimes, not like he's choosing to leave you just for the fun of it.

you know his gentle reminder is meant to mitigate your ache, but it only makes you be more aware of how time doesn't seem to pass when he's not here. the clock stops ticking the second he's gone, and you feel like you have to drag yourself through every minute of every hour and repeat the process for days and weeks and months.

"one week is too long," you say quietly. "time passes slower without you."

seven days. one hundred and sixty eight hours. ten thousand and eighty minutes. it's practically nothing compared to the time that has already passed, but that doesn't mean that you get to miss him any less even though it's only a two-hour flight away.

minho doesn't really reply directly to what you said. instead, he tries to distract you with anecdotes of his day - like a funny looking pigeon he saw on the street earlier or a cute photo of soonie that his mom sent him. it works a little. he considers it a success when you crack a smile and giggle at his theatrics.

he keeps the conversation light until you're biting back a yawn and he knows it's time to let you get some rest. even when you're saying your goodnights, neither of you mention what day it'll be tomorrow. you're sure that in the morning you'll wake up to messages from him - not entirely poetic because it's not his specialty, but they'll still be infinitely and wonderfully sincere. you don't bring it up in case he feels guilty, and you think he doesn't bring it up because the reminder that he won't be here might make you sleep restlessly tonight.

you fall asleep with a little bit of a heavy heart, and wake up when the sound of your doorbell ringing fills your apartment at precisely 7:06am. the other side of the bed still cold and devoid of your minho, but it's not the first thing that you notice like you do every morning.

no, the first thing that you register today is the vivid discomfort of having your peace disturbed so early on when it should be a day that you get to spend feeling nothing but comfort and contentment. or at least, as content as you can get without minho here. you carry that irritation with you all the way to the front door, wild bedhead and all.

the door swings open.

you're a deer in the headlights and suddenly your displeasure is vanished, gone in a second like it was never there to begin with.

"surpriseee!"

a sheepish greeting.

you rub your eyes, then pinch yourself on the arm.

you're not really sure what happens next. it's all just a blur of tears and ugly sobbing as you launch yourself into his arms, almost making him knock into the suitcase that's still perched right beside him. the bouquet of peonies in his hand becomes an unfortunate victim as it falls to the floor after the impact, but minho leaves it be, in favor of holding you as tightly as you're holding onto him.

his fingers tangled in your hair, your arms wound around his neck securely like you're afraid you're still dreaming and he'll disappear if you let go. you don't question why he's here; you just accept that he is.

minho peppers warm kisses to your cheeks, your jawline, your forehead and your lips. it's graceless and it's damp from your tears but neither of you could bring yourself to care. he murmurs with an upward quirk of his mouth where he's pressing his smile to your lips, all affection, all love. "happy birthday, baby."

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow (italicized = can't tag)

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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otomestatus · 1 year ago

Text

know it's for the better; manjiro s. / reader

an: wanted to write an original work on this blog and this has been consuming my little thoughts!

Your eyes flutter open, welcoming the light from the afternoon sun. Your cheek was rested upon the flat surface of your desk as your arms encircled the circumference of your head. Blinking once, twice, your vision was met with a mop of soft blonde hair also laying on your desk. The owner of said hair had his face hidden in his arms, his body rising and falling gently with each shallow breath. The classroom around you was painted in a reddish glow as the sun began its descent in the horizon. Birds chirped, leaves rustled out the window, and you felt at peace. Slowly you rose in your seat, your finger gently reaching out to poke the top of his head.

“Hey, Mikey…” You speak barely above a whisper, your tone light and feathery. He shifted and hesitated to poke his head up to meet your gaze. He stares at you with this groggily look in his eyes.

“Whaaat…?” Mikey groans, his hands coming up to rub the sleep from his eyes. There is a dull ache in the hollow of your chest as a full view of his face enters your sight. He’s tired and no doubt going to complain about being hungry, but you’re losing yourself in your own thoughts. It’s the way his blonde hair frames his face and how his dark lashes flutter each time he blinks. You had always known the truth. Ever since you were kids you had always known and will always continue to know. It was an irrefutable fact that you were unequivocally, undeniably in love with Manjiro Sano. So as you sit here and admire the way the afternoon sunset blankets his face in its warm glow, you can feel your heart stutter. You hesitate with your next words, but you know the day must come to its end.

“We should head home…” It’s a murmur, but it’s loud enough for Mikey to hear. You don’t know when you’d become so shy.

Mikey hums, propping his elbows up on your desk and cradling his head in the palm of his hands. He looks unconvinced and a small part of you had been hoping it meant he wanted to spend a little longer with you. To sit in the comfort of each other’s presence and talk idly about anything and everything in between. You are holding your breath, waiting for him to speak.

“I don’t have anything to do until later so I’m fine.” He grins, wide and warm, and your cheeks dust a gentle pink color. There’s something in his smile, something so bright. Yet, something so distant like a far off memory from a moment lost to time. You want to cup your hands around his cheeks and hold him there. No rhyme or reason, you just want to bask in that smile for as long as possible. You adore it more than could be described with mere words. The ache prodding in your sternum is a testament to all the ways you have loved him so. All the way you will continue to love him. And, perhaps, that is the problem.

“You okay? You’re just staring.” There’s a slight tilt to his head as he stares at you, curiosity brimming in his dark eyes. You flinch.

“Oh… Yeah, just…” You hesitate before continuing, “You’re pretty.”

You don’t know what compelled you to say it. And maybe you’ll never know either. However, Mikey’s surprise quickly dissipates and invites a wide, toothy grin in its wake. You expected him to laugh or make fun of you for such a compliment, but his expression is anything but displeased. He chuckles, “Haven’t heard that one before.”

There’s something familiar in the way he says that. Your mouth opens slightly then shuts again. Your head turns slightly to look out the window. The sky is void of clouds and there’s a distant sound of children playing. It’s all so familiar, all so tender. His voice brings you back to him.

“You get it, don’t you?” He asks, his smile never wavering. You don’t understand or you do, but you don’t want to. It’s easier to pretend. However, he’s staring at you, eyes knowing yet their emotion is completely unreadable. A child screams and laughs in the neighborhood across the street. A breeze dances through the open classroom window. You understand.

“I saw it on Takemichi’s face.” You shift, sitting straight up, your own expression blank. Across from you he leans back in his own chair. His eyes appear gentle as if they’ve fully reached acceptance. You hadn’t, though.

Mikey laughs, “Yeah, that’s Takemitchy! Always showing exactly how he feels.”

He isn’t fazed when you don’t laugh, or frown, or even chastise him for finding humor in it. No, he knows you like the flowers know spring and the animals know winter. He knows you like how the stars know the moon. There is not an inch of your personhood Mikey does not know. You want to feel vindicated, but you don’t. That surprises you. The sun hasn’t moved an inch. The sky is still vibrant hues of orange and red and the cicadas play their tune.

“Manjiro…” You begin.

Mikey grins, “I always liked when you called me that.”

“Huh?”

“Manjiro. I always liked when you called me Manjiro.” He’s looking at you longingly and you’re looking at him with such a sadness that threatens to swallow you whole.

You exhale softly, “I’ve always liked you.”

“Liked?” He hums. You don’t tense. There’s no reason to.

“Loved.” You admit, “I do. Still.”

He seems to ponder this. Silence fills the air and this classroom feels almost suffocating. His head lulls back, his dark eyes staring up at the ceiling tiles. You rest your left hand on your desk and pinch your index and thumb together-- the nail of your index scratching lightly at the side of your thumb to nervously pick the skin. That ache in your chest is amplified by the wave of nostalgia crashing into you.

“I really wanted to hear that before I go.” Mikey’s tone is laced with despondency. There’s a lump in your throat and you can’t swallow it, you can’t get rid of it. Just like how you couldn’t get rid of the love you held for him all these years. Maybe even for the rest of your life. Your bottom lip quivers, but you force a sharp inhale to maintain your composure. The cicadas are quiet, the children are gone, and the leaves of the trees aren’t rustling in the wind. There is just an eerie quiet and your own grief blossoming along your ribcage.

“So you’re leaving?” It’s a question that you don’t want to know the answer to, but you ask it anyway. Mikey lifts his head up to meet your eyes. They are your favorite sight.

“Yeah, I’m leaving.” And it sounds so final, so permanent because it is. You gasp and your eyes prickle with tears you were desperate to hold at bay. That was a fool’s goal after all.

“Do you love me?” Again, a question, but this time it’s important you know. You need to know.

Mikey’s eyes fell to the desk in front of him, “How could I not?”

You’re stifling a sob and he’s staring at you with a tenderness you want to slap off his face. Deep down you knew it. The moment Takemichi came by your apartment after arriving back from the Philippines, the moment he locked eyes with you and sputtered out a desperate apology. Twelve years and you were bleeding out from all the love and grief you tried to keep inside. Twelve years of wondering where he was, what he was doing, and why he was destroying every piece of a past you longed to go back to.

“I don’t want this to be a dream…” You choked out between sobs, hiding your face in your hands so he cannot see the tears you shed for him, “Manjiro, I don’t understand…!”

There’s the sound of fabric shifting and the chair scraping against the floor before his hand connects with your head, fingers combing slightly in your hair. It makes you cry harder. It would be easier for him to rip your heart out, but he’s kind and he’s gentle. He’s your Manjiro.

“Know it’s for the better.” He leans down and whispers these words into your ear. Before you can even respond, your body jolts awake and alone in a twin sized bed you had grown to hate. The rain outside your window beats down against the glass. Your alarm clock reads 2:31 AM. In this tiny apartment you begrudgingly call you, you are inconsolable. You are a weak heart. So you turn and shove your face into your pillow, screaming into the soft plushness of it with all the pain you’ve bottled up in these twelve years. For the first time in all those years, however, you finally feel as if you can breathe.

#tokyo revengers x reader #manjiro sano x reader #mikey x reader #mikey sano x reader #manjiro sano x you #manjiro sano x y/n #manjiro x reader #tokyo revengers x you

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blueberrypancakesworld · 1 month ago

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Hiiiiiii! I hope you're still writing about Claude Frollo😓

If so, then can I request some smut with sub!Frollo x an experienced!fem!reader? (This is the first time for Frollo)

thank you in advance. I love your works.💗

Teach me lust

Frollo x prostitute!reader

warning : +18, smut, dom/sub undertones, implied age gap, kissing, blindfold, drinking alcohol, rosary use, no use of Y/n

Summary : Even a religious man like him had indulged in lust at some point before he vowed abstinence. Younger, more lustful, longing for a desire that was not his own, not full of insecurity...he wanted something leading. A memory as clear as the experience of the coins he gave her ringing, the flickering of candles and the rustling of fabric as he saw a naked woman in front of him for the first time. It seemed as if he had the deadly sin in front of him personally and he simply had to give himself to her.

info : Thanks for the request anon and I'm very sorry for the months of waiting but I really had no motivation for Frollo and now I have time. Have fun reading and thanks again for the request :)

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Didn't every man have a need for love? A need for lust, for devotion, for sex? Questions that went on in the minds of normal inhabitants of the city of Paris, questions from uneducated people who didn't know that abstinence and finding God was so much better.

Because faith and the Bible were the only things a man needed, he surrendered to lust, he was absorbed in it and nothing more...well, that's what the aspiring young judge thought too, his dark hair always peeking out from between books and steps whenever he was seen in the library, in the teaching areas of the church and in conversations with the archbishop.

His pointed nose buried in the books, the scent of ink and old parchments surrounded him with a hint of wine when he came out of a mass and had tasted and drunk the body of Christ...but now, for some time now, he smelled something sweet.

He had to take a detour on his way back in the evening because of work in his quarter, not through the baker's quarter with its pleasant smell as usual, no, he had to go through the sweet quarter, the corrupt quarter, the quarter of sins where one pub and brothel followed the next.

,,Do not raise your eyes and the Lord will guide you safely” he had muttered to himself as he looked at the cobblestones at his feet and he hoped to get out of here quickly.

But it was this sweet smell, like a garden of pretty roses, like a wine he wanted to taste, like something he wanted to touch, he wanted to feel it and a whistle finally made him stop and he looked up.

From the dark floor past the entrances to a higher window in the glow of candles he saw her, a look half in shadow, a smile and above all a bare upper body for a moment, ,,Good evening my sweet!” she called down to him, winking and covering her body with a robe again, hoping he would come to her.

He almost dropped his bag of books before he pulled his hood back over his face and ran, ran with warm cheeks, a racing heart and a sweet tingling sensation running through his loins I could see her, her breasts he thought his inner voice playing that brief moment over and over again.

It wouldn't let him go as he hurried into his house and locked the door as he washed his face with cold water and slipped into his nightshirt.

It was that night, that encounter that wouldn't let him go, that longing he had for hours in the dark, not daring to touch, knowing he should do it but the thought insulted him, ,,Were you soft?" he finally asked the question, his hands trying to reach for her body in the void.

He imagined how she felt, how she moved, what sounds she made and his mind filled with all kinds of imaginings. Imaginations that were unholy, that resembled hell, that were flashc but made him feel so warm.

But at the same time the shame burned within him he was a man of god soon he would be judge Claude Frollo and would finally be able to pursue his destiny of justice and now? Was lust so bad?

Everyone should have tasted the cup of seduction once to realize that he wasn't missing anything, God would tell him when he went too far, right?

It was after this, when a young inexperienced Frollo, not yet disillusioned with the world, made a decision that would guide him for the rest of his life, that the next day he barely paid attention to the archbishop's teaching because his mind was only on one thing, on someone, on the one thing he would get.

The sun would soon set and he paced nervously in his home, the small leather bundle in which he had coins rang whenever he counted the coins, telling himself that there were enough, ,,Is that right? Of course not...but if I get over it I will be reborn as a purified man” he mumbled, looking at the wooden image of Mary who assured him that he was doing the right thing.

That when he closed the door to his house and the sun had set, he pulled his hood over his face and set off in the direction of the quarter, it was the first time he used his own words of faith, that he twisted the holy word, that he used what he thought was right when his gaze was not on the ground of abstinence but on the sins of lust and gluttony.

The wine and beer seemed to flow from the bars, the moans and screams could be heard coming from the brothels and his eyes looked up to see her smile at him again, almost knowing he would come in to her as he walked into the brothel.

Inside, still reminiscent of a bar, there was less of the atmosphere of alcohol and instead it was the laughter of women snuggling up to men, he swallowed as he saw the dresses, the wide necklines, the skirts pulled up and the ankles exposed, Nothing but sin his inner voice still trying to stop him just turning back around and praying for his soul.

But when he looked up from the lower floor to the stairs he saw her, even in the crowd he could see her winking at him, a movement with her fingers making her move automatically.

He had to touch himself, he simply had to have her.... he had to feel her, he had to be free from the sin of temptation through her.

Frollo walked up the stairs, hood still on, following her past the doors behind which he heard the sounds of lust, sounds he dreamed at most, imagined when he wanted to touch himself just to pray for hours until he stopped having such thoughts.

The end of the corridor where her room was he crossed the threshold and closed the door, the sinful noises stopped and he took off his hood, his decision made with his thoughts, ,,So I see you've decided to come to me,” she said and smiled as he nodded for the moment, his voice still rooted to the spot.

He looked as lost as he felt and she poured cheap wine into two cups, ,,What do you call it...oh yes the blood of Christ” she laughed at him as she seemed to recognize him, his gaze falling down to him to notice that she could see the beads of his rosary.

He was truly unprepared, like an unbeliever who had yet to find faith, ,,Do you know me?” he dared to ask, his reputation was not yet known everywhere but here in the neighborhoods he was known quite well, to commit himself to the path of sin now could mean his end.

But she just grinned again, took another sip of the wine and gave him a cup herself, looking at him through eyes made up in such a way that he swallowed, his dry throat longing for something as he tasted the wine, ,,I know each of my customers as well as a mother knows her child,” she continued, walking slowly towards him.

The dark-haired man almost choked on the wine and tensed as he saw her hand run over her dress, which was tied tighter than necessary, the fabric exposing much more than it should and the blush rising to his cheeks as he looked at her bust.

She saw his gaze, knew this inexperience, but a man of god had her here before it made it more interesting, ,,You don't need to be ashamed, it shows us what we want even if god tells us no.” She tried to lean into his face and brushed a dark strand from his face as he leaned away, not wanting her touch to go that far.

She felt his heated skin, his rapid heartbeat and the look that tried not to linger on her, ,,Will it be enough?” he asked instead, suddenly pushing past her into the room, unconsciously or consciously blocking his way out and holding out a handful of coins to her.

Golden coins, it was so many that he could stay here with her for a whole week, God wasn't interested in her, in the trade of women who had no choice, so it wouldn't interest him to take anything more than necessary from the theologian.

Taking the coins elegantly but quickly, she let them disappear into the box before turning to her client, ,,You're all mine, my pretty angel," she purred, fingers swiftly undoing the laces of her dress with each step towards him, the fabric loosening and her naked body illuminated by the candles.

Downing the last of the wine in one gulp, he hesitantly reached out for her, making a surprised sound as he touched her hips, ,,Soft,” he uttered the word, making her laugh, a pretty laugh, a laugh he wanted to hear more often and a laugh that stopped when he suddenly felt her lips on his.

Her own hands running over his robe, gently pulling the dark fabric from his body as she engaged him in one of his first kisses, inexperience meeting experience, Frollo wanting to please her, wanting that feeling and gasping in surprise as he felt her bite his lip.

It was the first time he had mixed this pain with lust, the first time it burned into him, the possession, the pain, the lust, ,,Truly immaculate as the virgin herself” she whispered gently kissing her way down his neck and guiding him slowly towards the bed.

The pillows and blankets supported his fall and he gazed into her hair-framed face as she practically sat between his legs, ,,And...you?” he dared to ask, not knowing if he was insulting her and already feeling bad about it, but she was a prostitute not a saint.

A question that made her smile again and she grabbed his hand, kissed his fine fingers and finally placed them on her breast, ,,I am immaculate, stained, old, young, holy, unholy, a guiding voice or a yielding one...I am everything you want” she gave him the options and Frollo's fingers groped her breasts as if he was afraid of hurting her.

Still unsure at first, he added his other hand shortly afterwards and she let him grope her body; she hadn't had such an inexperienced client for a long time.

But he was sweet, he was holy, still in full bloom, not ruined by the man, a thought that made her sigh and his gaze went up to her, ,,Is it good?” he asked and she nodded closing her eyes trying to push her body slightly towards his and her fingers gripped his tighter, showing him that it was okay to squeeze harder.

He seemed almost more sickly than the children in the alleys, thin, hardly any real muscle on him, more like a statue, ,,A saint in my bed truly beautiful" she admitted again seeing his gaze avoid hers, his hands come away from her and she put them back against herself and pulled him into another kiss.

She felt him gradually relax at last and she reached for the piece of fabric tied to the bedpost, ,,Close your eyes,” she told him, almost immediately, and his quick relenting was cute, someone who was so up in society down here they were all the same.

Tying the piece of cloth tightly around his head, she gave him one last kiss on the tip of his nose before he lost his sight, lying beneath her, shivering and gasping with every slightest movement, not knowing if she was leaving him here or not.

Normally she would, she would leave her regular customers here and envy him but now, he was too sweet too sacred to deform like this, ,,Relax my angel” she ordered him nodding and looking at the younger man for a moment.

Pink cheeks, a rapidly rising chest, a heart that seemed to jump out of his chest and an excitement that slowly demanded attention, ,,You will soon feel faith in a completely different way,” she said as she reached for his rosary and took it from him.

The small silver cross hung in front of her, a brief moment of thinking wanted to take over her mind, she had hardly been able to decide for this life, but a customer was a customer no matter if holy or poor.

Concentrating back on her work, she took the cross in her hand and ran it carefully over his heated skin, ,,Does that feel good?” she asked whenever she saw him pressing against her, his hips trying to get some excitement, his point of shame slowly slipping away.

Stroking the cross over his heated skin, she let her hand stroke his cock again and again, always enough to elicit a whimper from the younger man, to show him how good the pleasure could feel, ,,Ple-Please...more” he finally conceded and she rewarded him with a kiss and let the cross move a little more firmly over his body.

The little red strands she kissed and ran over him turned him on more, the pain and lust now had him firmly in their grip and she stroked another strand of hair from his face, ,,Such a good boy” her praise made him moan and a smile crept onto her lips.

Such a simple praise with such a big effect, it was exactly this power that she loved, his hasty nod was rewarded with more touches and kisses and she smeared the first drops of pleasure on his belly

After a few moments, she put the rosary back on him, took the blindfold off, he blinked several times until he met her gaze.

He probably wanted to say something but only a whimper came out as he held on to her, she understood very well what he wanted, the dilated pupils and his hasty breathing she knew what he was asking for.

Stroking his cheek, she reached for the small bottle of oil, dabbed her fingers lightly with it and felt him press lightly against her again, ,,Shh, don't get impatient now,” she warned gently, but she saw him look at her apologetically, his hands clutching the blanket and he leaned his head back into the pillow.

He thought they would turn around and he would be on top as he knew it, but when she slid down on him after a moment he just said, ,,Relax," he moaned out loud as he felt her around him for the first time and thought he had completely fallen into sin, it felt so good.

A feeling that was so different than just pleasure, so much more than just divinity, ,,Mhhh good isn't it?” she asked him, moving just a little as his whole body seemed to shudder beneath her.

Rarely had she seen such an extreme reaction, but he was still handsome, still so handsome, and she slowly let her own pleasure take over, her gasps and whimpers slowly beginning to mingle with his moans.

Her hip movements gradually began to quicken she believed he would come at any moment if she rode him fully, grabbing at his hands which clutched convulsively at the blanket and pillows she placed them against her breasts again.

This time he instinctively grasped harder, wanted to feel her, got to feel her and she gave him more pleasure, gave him more to hear, gave him more praise which made him want to swing in rhythm with her, he had finally let go of the divinity and was completely addicted to her.

The rosary moved over his skin whenever the two bodies moved, the cool silver was pleasantly cool on his heated skin, a light film of sweat lay on the two bodies, candles made the shadows of the two tremble.

She moaned as he unintentionally nipped her nipple and she just murmured, ,,Good so sweet” to him as her own understanding became more and more lost in lust, but the thought between them that she was only allowing him all this only turned him on more.

But his thrusts slowly became faster, out of sync with her and she pushed his hands back onto the bed, not allowing him to touch her again and his whimpers were punished with a scratch as she traced the red stripes of the cross, his moans almost becoming a yelp as she leaned against him.

His plea barely intelligible came out in an unanswerable whimper and babble she only answered with a “come for me” she only knew to hold onto him one last time and bury his cry in a kiss.

The trembling of both bodies stopped after a few final movements, her own climax almost better than the money she got for such pleasure.

Savoring the moment, she slowly rose from him, heard his whimper as he lost her warmth and could only grin, ,,Now you're stained my pretty one,” she murmured to him and stroked a strand of hair from his face, seeing that he could almost not open his eyes but the small smile on his lips that he gave her said everything she needed to know.

She had seduced him on the path of lust, made him commit a mortal sin, had a new follower, she would become his saint but above all she had corrupted the future judge Claude Frollo into a whimpering, pleading pretty boy.

She had taught him lust and from now on she would do it whenever he came to see her.

Lust was so much stronger than faith...

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#the hunchback of notre dame #judge claude frollo #judge claude frollo x reader #claude frollo x reader #frollo x reader #male x female #reader is female #judge frollo #disney

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biting-miguel-ohara · 5 months ago

Text

Mindfuck - Cassandra Nova x male!Reader

A/N: this was a fun request to fulfill. Gonna be honest, I did not have the same experience as the anon requester, but it was enjoyable to write all the same

Written for this request

Dividers by @/enchanthings

CW: Deadpool & Wolverine spoilers (sorta), fourth wall breaks (kinda), killing mentions, Cassandra’s hand/mind powers, explicit sexual content, smut, handjob, mindjob (I got no clue what you’d call this tbh), Cassandra calls Reader pet, kissing

900 words

“Well, well, well.” The woman stops in front of you. “Look who we have here.”

You know who she is. By her appearance, if not her voice. Cassandra Nova. Charles Xavier’s twin sister. Most of the Void’s citizens have a death grudge against her.

You find her rather attractive, actually. Most of their insults had been about her personality, or her actions, but the really foul ones had been about her appearance. You’d been expecting some wizened old hag, not the beautiful woman before you.

“It’s been quite some time since a Reader was in the Void.” Cassandra crouches to be eye-level with you. It feels vaguely condescending. Probably because you’re on your knees. You’re kinda into it.

“And quite a handsome one at that,” she muses. “Pity you’ll be dying soon. I’d have rather liked to keep you.”

“D-Dying?” Your voice comes out higher than you’d intended. You cough and try again. “Dying? What do you mean, dying?”

She raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing across her lips. “I’m going to kill you, of course. Right after I look into that interesting little brain of yours.”

“What—“ You don’t get a chance to finish. She reaches out and pushes her fucking fingers into your brain.

You choke on your own spit, eyes going wide. The blood leaves your head, leaving you dizzy and feeling weird.

Memories flash behind your eyes. Your childhood. Your life. Your trip to the Void.

You finally find your voice, intending to spit something out. Probably a scream.

Instead, you moan.

It catches you both by surprise. She pulls back, staring at you. Your face heats up and you stutter a bit. “Uh… S-Sorry?”

She grips your chin and forces your head back. Examining you with interest. “You’re not afraid. How peculiar.”

You do a mental check. Weirded out? Yes. Confused? Very. Turned on?

You can feel your dick straining against your pants. Can feel the throbbing of it. You haven’t been this hard since you saw your first pair of tits.

“Nope.” You croak out. “Definitely not afraid.”

“Interesting.” She lets go of your chin. “I think I’m going to keep you after all.”

You swallow. Give her a weak smile. “Does that mean you’ll do your hand thing again?”

Cassandra just smirks.

The guy carrying you throws you into the bed with a little too much force to not be deliberate.

You wince and Cassandra clicks her tongue. “Gentle, Pyro. We don’t want to break my new pet now, do we?”

His glare towards you does not make you feel any better. Pyro just scoffs and stalks out of the room. You’re left with Cassandra, who takes her time approaching the bed.

She lets her coat fall to the ground, revealing her outfit underneath. Your mouth goes dry and your dick twitches.

Being manhandled by Pyro hadn’t exactly been your idea of sexy, but being here with Cassandra? There’s definitely interest going on.

You lick your lips and hope your voice comes out normal. “So, what’s the plan?”

“I’m going to learn your secrets.” She settles onto the bed next to you, reaching out and tracing her fingers across your forehead. “And then I’m going to play with you.”

You don’t get a chance to even nod before her fingers are back inside your head. It feels just as weird as the first time. You can feel them inside your brain, probing around as images and memories flash through your mind.

She’s more thorough than last time, sifting through your memories more slowly. As if she’s looking for something.

Vaguely, you’re aware of her pressing you down to the bed. Of a free hand tracing its way down your chest.

You’re more focused on the hand fingering your brain. On the way your dick throbs in your pants. You let out a weak moan.

And then the first scene pops up. Your first teenage fantasy, filled with giddy emotion. Then another. A moment filled with passion and temptation. Then another and another.

You feel fingers toying with the zipper of your pants. A hand dipping below your boxers as memories play through your head. You cry out, arching up into her touch.

It’s too much, all at once. Your body pulses with heat, with need. Cassandra strokes your dick, digging her fingers deeper into your brain.

“Please, please, fuck!” You babble, thrusting your hips up erratically chasing your rapidly approaching high. A couple more memories, a few more heavenly strokes, and you’re cumming so hard your vision blurs out.

It takes you several gasping moments to come back to your body. You can feel a cool hand caressing your cheek, soft words being spoken.

Your head feels woozy. Your thoughts, thick and sluggish. You feel fantastic. The aftershocks of pleasure jolt through you, making you shiver.

“How was it, my little pet?” Cassandra coos. “I’m going to pull all that Reader knowledge from your brain. Make myself the strongest being here. And all you have to do is lie there and submit.”

You moan softly. Weakly. That offer sounds far too tempting to give up, especially if she’s going to do that again.

So you just nod, your tongue heavy in your mouth. “Alright…”

She smiles and leans down to place a kiss on your lips. “You’re going to be a perfect pet.”

You feel too pleasure-drunk to do anything but agree.

#cassandra nova #male reader #tw killing mention #cassandra nova x reader #cassandra nova x you #cassandra nova x male!reader #cassandra nova x male reader #cassandra nova xavier #x male reader #male!reader #x male!reader

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