#she keeps checking herself out of treatment

[barefootbaltimore]

Aha haha my bio mom is writing on walls in blood. We're all have a very Normal one about this.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Idolification.

Pairing: Yandere!Itadori Yuuji x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: No Curse/College AU, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Stalking, (Unintentional) Emotional Manipulation, Oral Sex, Drunk Sex, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (Reader's 27, Yuuji's 22), Intimidation, Brief Mommy Kink, Pepper Spray, and Obsessive Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

“I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”

“It was an accident, you don’t have to—” Yuuji was cut off by another splash of milk, quickly followed by another jet of water. Her makeshift treatment was harsh, the temperature alternating unpredictably between ice cold and scalding hot, but Yuuji took the abuse with a smile that was almost bright enough to distract you from the red, aggravated skin around his eyes. Almost. “It’s alright,” he managed, eventually, doing his best not to sound like he was being slowly drowned in your bathtub. “Believe it or not, that’s only the second worst thing I’ve gotten in my eyes.”

Knowing him, it was probably closer to the fourth or fifth, but that did little to ease your guilt. He’d been leaving as you were getting home from your second twelve-hour shift of the week, and from there, it’d been a comedy of errors. He spotted you coming down the hall, haggard and bleary-eyed, and saw the babysitter who’d spent more summers than not keeping him (and, by association, his older half-brother) out of trouble before their family fell off of the face of the planet, and reacted the way Yuuji reacted to most things – with open arms and a contagious smile. You’d looked at him, a far cry from the kid you’d spent so much time looking after, and seen a very strange, very grown man loitering outside of the door to your shoebox of an apartment before charging towards you with a manic expression and, well, you had always wanted an excuse to use the pepper spray you carried near-religiously. It was only a shame it had to be on someone as sweet as Yuuji.

Now, you were on your knees on the floor of your bathroom, your fingers tangled in Yuuji’s hair as your roommate gently waterboarded him with a cartoon of organic oat milk in one hand and your decade-old showerhead in the other. The front of his t-shirt was soaked through, his lung half-flooded at least, but he was still grinning like you’d greeted him with a blank check and a litter of puppies. “Honestly, it’s on me,” he insisted, his enthusiasm too potent not to be genuine. “Miss Shoko mentioned she was living with someone.”

At the mention of your roommate, Shoko Ieiri, your attention shifted to the woman in-question. You weren’t an idiot. After the shock died down, it hadn’t taken long for you to piece together why a young man would be rushing to get out of your apartment while your attractive (albeit, socially dead) roommate was home alone. When she met your prying eyes, you shot her a pointed glare. “Cradle rocker.”

She threatened to turn the showerhead on you, but relented as soon as you flinched away. “He’s in one of my classes,” she muttered, then pushed herself to her feet with a soft groan. “We’re out of milk,” she said, shaking the empty carton. “Let his eyes air-dry. I’ll be in my office – come get me if he starts crying again.”

“I’m a doctor too, y’know.”

“You’ll be a doctor in another year. Right now, you’re an intern.” She eyed Yuuji wearily. “An intern who physically assaults her patients, at that.”

Without any real way to retort, you stuck your tongue out – a gesture Shoko mimicked as she slipped out of the crime scene that was your bathroom. Despite Shoko’s advice, you fished a towel off the nearest rack and handed it to Yuuji, who accepted it with a grateful hum. “I really am sorry,” you repeated, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just, it’s been so long, and you look so different, and god, it’s been—”

“—ten years,” Yuuji filled in, probably tired of hearing you repeat the same two excuses. “I remember, ‘cuz you invited us to your graduation that year. I wanted to go, too, but Gramps got sick and…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with an airy chuckle. “You know how it is.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I loved your grandfather. How is he?”

Yuuji’s smile wavered for the first time. “He passed, actually. A few years ago.”

Fuck.

If the building was going to collapse and bury you in the rubble, that would’ve been the time.

“Sukuna’s doing good, though,” Yuuji went on, kind enough to pretend there hadn’t been a lapse. “He opened a restaurant a few months ago. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but it’s been keeping him out of the ring.” His expression brightened. “And you’re a doctor! I mean, I knew you would be, but you’re a doctor!”

You felt your face heat up his brother’s name, your eyes falling to the tiled floor. “Almost a doctor. I just started my internship.” And they’d already managed to work you half to death. “You’re in med school, right? Shoko never teaches undergrad.”

“It’s my first semester,” he said with a slight laugh. “It’s harder than I thought it’d be, though. Miss Shoko offered to give me a few pointers, but, y’know—” He sighed, let his head lull back. “I’m starting to think I’m just not smart enough for stuff like this.”

“You shouldn’t say that kind of thing about yourself. You’ve always been—” You cut yourself off with a sudden gasp, clapping your hands together. “If you’re struggling, let me help you study! I have tomorrow off, and I promise, I’m not as strict as Shoko.”

Immediately, he straightened up, your towel still strung around his neck and his smile returned to its full brightness. It only dimmed slightly when he glanced down at his damp shirt. “…there won’t be as much pepper spray this time, right?”

His smile was as contagious as it’d been when he was still a kid, begging you to let him stay up yet another hour past his already-lenient bedtime. Despite his bloodshot eyes and your lingering, only slightly lessened guilt, you found yourself biting back a grin.  

“No pepper spray, this time. I promise.”

~

“Room for one more?”

She glanced over her shoulder as you struggled past the jammed sliding door, taking a moment to evaluate your stiff shoulders and strained smile over the thick frames of her glasses before nodding curtly. Your relief was immediate and all-encompassing. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to do anything but shake your head and flee the country when Yuuji invited you to hang out with a few of his friends, but he’d sworn up and down that it wasn’t a party and promised that you wouldn’t be out of place and pouted in a way you’d never been able to resist. You were starting to think that, no matter how old you got, you’d never learn to say ‘no’ to Yuuji.

The blaring music was only vaguely muffled by the glass, the blurry outlines of other guests playing behind thin curtains. There was a red solo cup in your hand, a lipstick stain on your cheek from a girl who’d passed out half an hour ago, but you were hyper-aware that you were too old to be at a college party with people at least half a decade younger than you, in the best cases. You braced yourself against the balcony railing with a soft groan, crossing your arms and hanging your head low enough to warrant a hum of sympathy from the woman next to you. She held up a box of cigarettes – the cheap kind you and Shoko used to split on the days you had to decide between food and rent – and you accepted her offer with the kind of gratitude you could only assume a starving lion would’ve shown to a limping gazelle.

“Maki,” she said, shaking one into your open palm and fishing a lighter out of her pocket. “You’re one of Itadori’s friends?”

“You could say that.” You let her light you up before taking a shaky drag, the bitter taste a welcome distraction. “I’ve been tutoring him for a few weeks. I think he just invited me as a way to say ‘thank you’.”

Her eyes flashed with recognition, the corner of his lips turning upward for the first time. “You’re the chick who used to babysit him. (Y/n), right?”

“He’s mentioned me?”

“He won’t shut up about you. Every other word out of his mouth is ‘(Y/n) this’ or ‘(Y//n) that’.” She tapped her cigarette against the edge of the railing, sending a few flakes of ash fluttering down to the street below. “Megumi gets it the worst, but we’ve all had to see the fucking pictures.”

“That… that sounds like him.” You forced out a half-hearted laugh, then wavered. “I’m sorry, pictures?”

Maki opened her mouth, but the balcony door was jerked open before she could respond. Yuji appeared in the open entryway, cheeks flushed and grin wide. He drawled your name in a single slur before moving on to more important topics. “We found a—We found a karaoke machine! ‘gumi thinks he can get it running!”

You sent Maki an apologetic look, but she only shrugged, a sliver of a grin. “Better get him tucked in.”

This time, when you smiled back, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

~

It took a month for Yuuji to start ‘forgetting’ his textbooks when he came over for your little study sessions.

It took three for Yuuji to drop the pretense of studying at all – calling you out to some late-night diner or lethargic early-morning café or, better yet, showing up at your apartment door unannounced and empty-handed with only that unnerving smile and a half-baked excuse to spend time with you.

It took six for his hand to drift just a little lower than your shoulder while you watched some awful, b-rated horror movie on your well-beaten couch. You let him reach your waist before clearing your throat and shifting away, your smile pained.

“I… I think you should probably leave,” you half-mumbled, your voice shaking. “It’s getting late.”

“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” Predictably, Yuuji was undeterred. His persistence used to be endearing, but now, it just felt unfair. “I don’t mind sleeping over, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s not like we’ve never spent the night together.”

A nervous laugh, his hand planted just a little too close to your thigh. “I wish you wouldn’t phrase it like—”

“I mean, I know I’m your type.” It was almost impressive, what he could say with such an innocent expression. His free hand found its way to your other side, pinning you between the arm of the couch and his broad chest. “I know you had a thing for Sukuna, and everyone says we’re practically identical. That means you should be into me too, right?”

“Yuuji,” Your eyes darted to your phone, left absent-mindedly on your coffee table. The urge was there, but it wasn’t like he would actually hurt you. He’d always been a sweet kid – a little overzealous, but that wasn’t a crime. This was just… a bad decision, one you had to stop him from making before he did something he’d regret. “Sukuna is my age, and—”

“I don’t care about that.” He cut in swiftly, definitively. His bright eyes had glazed over, catching the dim light of your T.V. as he leaned in further, as his face came to hover less than a full breath away from yours. “I’ve loved you since I was eight. Can Sukuna say that?”

“That’s not—”

“I know you used to fuck him.” His chest was touching yours, now, his breath hot against your skin. “I know you’d fuck him again, if he was here. I know—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. It was a weak blow, simultaneously hesitant and instinctual, but your open palm made contact with his cheek with a deafening crack, his head snapping to the side and putting that much more distance between his body and yours. He moved to cup his swelling cheek, and you took the opportunity to slip out from underneath him and stumble to your feet. “I think you should leave,” you repeated, the words spat hastily enough to blend together. “Please, Yuuji.”

For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.

Then, he turned to face you, his smile wiped away and his expression so blank, you couldn’t remember how you’d ever looked at him and saw anything other than void.

He didn’t say anything, only pushing himself to his feet and shambling out of your living room. You kept your eyes on the ground until his footsteps faded out of earshot, until you heard the front door creak open and slam shut with enough force to shake the walls.

When you were sure he was gone, you collapsed onto your couch and laid motionless while an actress screamed in the background.

~

“Your golden boy’s asking about you, again.”

You groaned, buckling at the waist and burying your face in your arms. Shoko glanced up from the exams she was grading, but whatever sympathy she might’ve felt apparently didn’t warrant the effort it would’ve taken to reach across the table to comfort you. “Satoru’s been getting it, too,” she went on. “That’s how you know it’s bad. I can’t remember the last time someone managed to talk over that narcissist.”

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t remember how many times you’d already apologized for Yuuji’s recent fixation. “He’s… probably just worried about his grades, or something.”

Her lips quirked into a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“I was helping him study,” you admitted, reluctantly. As much as Shoko had to hear about your unruly patients and patronizing coworkers, you’d been less open about how much time you were spending with a student fresh out of undergrad. “He’s never been that good with school. I used to have to help him with his homework in elementary school, too.”

This time, she decided your conversation was important enough to earn her full attention. “Itadori’s one of my best students.”

You felt your chest tighten. “But, the first time he came over, you were tutoring—”

She said your name, curt and blunt, and you went quiet. With a sigh, she shook her head, dropping her pen entirely. “When was the last time I offered to personally tutor a struggling student?”

You swallowed dryly. “Never.”

“And when was the last time I gave our full address out to literally anyone?”

“Never,” you said, again. After a second, you added, “Well, there was that one time with Iori…”

“Not the point. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the kid’s a creep. You might have to—”

She was cut off by your phone buzzing against the table. Your eyes scanned over the caller’s name scrawled across the dim screen before moving back to Shoko, her gaze now narrowed into a sharp glare. “Don’t.”

And, for a second, you didn’t. You convinced yourself that you wouldn’t. You told yourself that, after you bought Satoru around of drinks as an apology, you’d do… you’d do something about Yuuji, even if you weren’t sure what you could do, just yet.

Then, you let yourself picture the kid you used to watch for a few dollars an hour while his grandfather was sick and his brother was on the other side of town doing something dubiously legal at best, dead in a ditch at worst – all wide eyes and scuffed elbows and lopsided grins. You let yourself remember the way he’d ramble about his day after you picked him up from school, and how excited he was the first time you made it to one of his school’s sports days, and how he’d clung to you and sobbed the day before his family moved to the other side of the country. At the time, you’d been thankful to have one less responsibility, relieved that you’d never have to see Sukuna again. You’d been selfish, even for a kid.

The phone was in your hand in a moment, the call answered in another. You stood as you brought it to your ear, hoping that would be enough to block out Shoko’s mumbled cursing.

“Yuuji?”

~

The silence in your car was thick, nearly suffocating.

It’d been one of Yuuji’s friends calling from his phone – the dark-haired one with the monotone voice, barely audible over the blaring music of whichever nightclub they were standing outside of. He’d asked you to, in his own words, ‘come get your problem child’, and when you’d asked why Yuuji needed you specifically, he’d only handed the phone back to Yuuji and let you listen to a full minute of whining, your name the only coherent thing to make it off of Yuuji’s tongue. Shoko urged you not to go, and yet, twenty minutes later, Yuuji was slumped over in your passenger seat, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in an uncharacteristic frown.

He was less talkative than he’d been on the phone. The clingier stages of his inebriation had passed, leaving room for a disassociated sort of passiveness that meant, even if you’d been brave enough to try and start a conversation, his response wouldn’t be anything worth that kind of effort. By the time you reached his apartment complex, the knot sitting at the pit of your stomach was equal parts dread and second-hand embarrassment, but you tried to keep your tone light as you turned to him. “It’s time to get out, Yuuji.” And then, when he failed to move, “You’re on your own from here.”

He looked at you, eyes unfocused and hands folded almost childishly over his lap. You softened more than you should’ve at the sight. “…do you need help getting home?”

A second of thought, a quick nod. You shouldn’t. You knew that you really, really shouldn’t.

And yet, somehow, you found yourself in front of Yuuji’s door, fussing over the lock as Yuuji clung to your side, his face buried in the dip of your shoulder. He was cooperative enough; able to stand on his own with minimum swaying but not so lucid that it took more than a gentle suggestion to lead him to his bedroom, where he was more than happy to collapse onto his unmade bed. With a shaky exhale, you turned to leave, but something caught on your sleeve – Yuuji’s hand, when you could bring yourself to check.

“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice dampened by the sheets his face was buried in. “Please?”

You felt your throat go dry. “I can’t.”

You expected him to go shrill and whiny, but he proved to be a touch more mature than the ten-year-old you used to babysit. Rather flatly, he asked, “Why not?”

How were you supposed to answer that? Would it be good enough to say that you didn’t want to, that you couldn’t spend your night looking after a drunk kid you’d known a decade ago, that you’d already done more than you should’ve just by giving him a ride? Was it worth trying to talk to him at all when he could barely hold his head up? Would it do anything to soften the burn of the bile rising into your throat to point out that, the last time you’d been in the same room as him, he’d tried to—

No, it wasn’t and it wouldn’t and you had to leave. With your heart racing in your chest, you tried to jerk yourself out of his hold, but his vice-grip only grew tighter, his head rising up from the mattress just enough to let him stare at you with those big, bleary eyes. “Why not?”

“Yuuji, this isn’t—”

He was so, so much stronger than he had been, the last time you’d seen each other. One second, you were on your feet, at his bedside, and the next, you were on the floor of his bedroom, forced onto your hands and knees while Yuuji’s body pressed into yours from above. “I love you,” he said, his voice as steady as it’d ever been. “I love you, and I—Fuck—” He panted against the back of your neck, something uncomfortably stiff grinding against your ass. “It makes me so fucking hard when you say my name like that.”

A hand slipped under the hem of your top, his palm pressing into the small of your back. You moved to speak, then thought better of it, biting into your bottom lip as your anxious squirming turned to full-blown struggling. Yuuji only laughed, the noise airy and affectionate, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you that much closer to him – making it that much more impossible to get away. His free hand worked clumsily at your top; drawing it up and over your head. You fought against it at first, but froze the first time you felt something stretch a little too far, heard fabric tear. This couldn’t happen, but you absolutely couldn’t be stranded in Yuuji’s apartment with no clothes and no way out.

With his face buried in the back of your shoulder, he cupped your chest, catching your nipples between his forefinger and thumb and pinching with just enough force to draw a low, strained whimper from the back of your throat. “So cute…” He nuzzled deeper into your neck as his touch drifted. Your skirt was drawn downward – a long piece, something you’d thrown on without much thought – then discarded completely, his own shirt wrestled off in the same motion. You felt his fingertips slip under the hem of your panties, but he pulled away and straightened his back, instead. For a second, you let yourself believe that he’d come to his senses, that whatever sick idea he’d gotten into his head had finally worn off, but the arm wrapped around your waist only drew tighter, hauling you off of the floor and into his arms. You were dropped unceremoniously onto the edge of his bed, and Yuuji sunk onto his knees between your open legs.

“I know you’ve probably slept with other people – aside from my brother, I mean. It’d be nice to find out you haven’t, though.” His tone was distant and dreamy. He was still drunk, but not drunk enough for how he’d been acting earlier. Not drunk enough for what he was doing now. He traced the pad of his thumb over your clothed slit, keeping a hand curled around your ankle to keep you in place. “I used to hear you with Sukuna – in his car, and his room, on the couch after you two thought I’d fallen asleep …” He trailed off into an airy laugh. “He likes to show off – always has. If he wasn’t my brother, I think I’d kill him.”

He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss into the inside of your thigh before shifting his attention to your pussy; his tongue laving over the thin material covering your cunt. You were crying, now, openly and audibly – your choked sobs almost loud enough to block out Yuuji’s quiet groans and pleased grunts. However his obsession might’ve made him think he felt about you, your distress didn’t seem to affect his appetite. Your panties were pulled down your legs and slid into some unseen pocket. With the last barrier between you and him gone, he was free to trace his tongue over your slit, to latch onto your clit and suck in a way that made you want to bury your face in your hands and scream. You tried to – crossing your arms over your face, but any sound you tried to make was quickly strangled into a broken moans as his tongue fucked shallowly into your pussy. It was invasive, disgusting, but your body didn’t care. You felt cunt clench around him as his nose ground into your clit, his need for air irrelevant while he spread you open with his tongue. Your thighs clenched shut, attempting to block him out, but his only response was a reverberating groan – and hand on your thigh encouraging you to squeeze him that much tighter.

You couldn’t tell which you hated more; the unwanted stimulation or the fact that your body was reacting to it, heating up where you needed it to go cold. As he sunk further into you, ate you out like a beast starved, you clenched your eyes and willed yourself to go numb, to ignore the sloppy sound of your slick on Yuuji’s lips. It was useless, though, as futile as trying to ignore him in the first place. Your back arched off the bed, legs twitching where they hung limply over his shoulders, and—

 —and Yuuji pulled away with a sharp gasp. He was on top of you before you could process that he was moving, his mouth crashing into yours before you could think to avoid him. The kiss was brutal, rushed; all teeth and tongue and lips shoved against yours with enough force to bruise. The only hint of tenderness was the soft, satisfied noise he let out as his tongue raked across yours, the bright grin painted across his lips when he drew back from you. “It’s alright.” He brought a hand to your cheek, cupping your face and brushing away tears with his thumb. “I’ve slept with other people too, ‘cause I knew I’d need a little practice to catch up with you. Could never go all the way, though. I just thought about you, and…” He blushed, simpered, like he thought he could pass himself off as the shy, lip-biting schoolboy with your slick coating his chin. “I guess I just didn’t really want anyone else to touch me. Not when I knew I’d see you again.”

A horrified sob bubbled up from somewhere deep and primal in your chest. Yuuji didn’t seem to hear it, only sighing as he pressed a lingering kiss into your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything,” he muttered, his hands falling to your waist. “I want to take care of you, tonight.”

You watched in stunned, paralyzed horror as he pushed himself to his feet, as he hastily worked off his jeans, his boxers (the dark material already notably stained with proof of his arousal). You made one more feeble attempt to squirm out from underneath him, to get away before his attention turned back to you, but confused and betrayed and so, so exhausted, you didn’t stand much of a chance against Yuuji. All he had to do was glance your way, his expression as warm as it was soulless, to leave you helpless against him.

He was eager enough not to reposition you, not to draw this out with the pretense of romance. With one hand on your hip and the other planted near your head, he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance and forced himself into you, bottoming out in a single thrust.

It was agony – pure and unrelenting. Any semblance of gentleness, of restraint fell away as soon as Yuuji was inside of you, as soon as your hyper-sensitive cunt clamped down around his cock. He cursed under his breath before collapsing, his chest pressing into yours as he tried to bury himself that much deeper inside of you, to chase the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth. As hard as you tried not to think about Sukuna, Yuuji hadn’t been lying when he said they were alike. He was just as insatiable as his brother had been any time you let him but his hands on you; just as rough in the way his hips ground into yours between sporadic thrusts. There’d been bruises, the next day. At least Sukuna had been the type to make sure he was gone by the time the damage set in. You doubted Yuuji would be so kind.

“I—I’m sorry,” he managed as he buckled into you. Panting against the dip of your shoulder, he took your hips in his hands and dragged your ass of the mattress, his brutal pace stuttering as he found a new angle to abuse. “Next time—I’ll be gentle next time, I just need to—”

His cock hit something soft and sensitive inside of you. Reflexively, your hands shot to his back, your nails finding skin and tearing. The moan Yuuji let out in response was nothing short of sinful; hitched and guttural, ragged and loud enough to block out the wet, slick sound of his cock pumping into your cunt. “M—” His hand wraps around your thigh, catching you under the knee and dragging it towards your chest, letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much faster. His face never left the crook of your neck, as if he was afraid to give you space to breathe. “Mommy, ‘m sorry, I need to—”

His teeth sunk into your throat as something hot and thick flooded into your cunt, as your body went stiff and your vision burned white. While his climax was sudden, intense, the peak to a decade’s worth of patience, yours had to be dragged out of you despite your attempts to hold it back, to deny yourself pleasure in the vain hope that it’d somehow be able to convince Yuuji to stop what he’d already finished. It seemed to hold you there in that state of dark, distorted euphoria for minutes – Yuuji’s movements turning slow and languid as he nursed you through your orgasm.

Eventually, mercifully, he went still, going limp above you with his canines still planted in the curve of your neck. If there was any pain, any other unwanted burdens he could force onto you, you were too lost in your own despair to notice, too distant to feel anything other than the mildest tinge of dread as he pulled back, raising his head just far enough to stare down at you, adoration heavy in his eyes and his grin wide and love-struck.

A small, naïve part of you found the sight suffocatingly familiar, while the rest could almost convince itself that you were looking at a stranger.

[munsonfamilyband]

I have no time right now to elaborate too deeply on this thought but I just had a brain worm and I need to write it down before I forget. Who knows, I may elaborate and make this a whole thing with dialogue tonight, we’ll see. TW for depictions of Steve’s injuries post s4, vomiting, gore(?)

Steve refuses medical treatment at the end of s4, they drop off Eddie and he hides in plain site until it’s time to take Dustin and Robin home.

They stop at Dustin’s first, both he and Robin getting out to get Claudia Hugs (I just know she gives INCREDIBLE hugs). He drops Robin off at home with her promising to keep her walkie on their frequency. And then he goes home alone.

He tries to shower, it hurts his feet and back too much. He tries to change the “bandage” but just gently tugging almost makes him black out from pain. So he collapses on his bed and passes out.

Days go by, he’s trying to act normal, like he isn’t always running a fever and his sides are itching and starting to smell under the cologne he practically bathes in. It works for a few days at least, but Claudia gets suspicious by day 3 post earthquake when Steve shows up for lunch with flushed cheeks. 2 days later he doesn’t show up.

She drives over alone, Dustin is at the Wheeler’s, and she lets herself in with the key Steve gave her and Dustin after last summer. She calls his name, doesn’t get an answer but something smells off. She’s a nurse, she recognizes the scent of disease.

She hurries upstairs and finds Steve in bed, only wearing boxers and the filthy scrap of cloth wrapped around his stomach. He’s sweating and has vomited on himself at least twice, recently too. She immediately knows that he is what smells, she can see the pus and blood on his abdomen. He’s delirious, mumbling to himself and part of her wants to shut down and cry, to go cradle this boy, her son in all ways but blood, but she can’t. She steels herself and walks to his bedside to feel his forehead, almost recoiling from how hot his skin is.

As she keeps checking him over, she grabs the phone on his bedside table and calls 911, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder to keep working. When the operator answers she explains who she is, where she is and what’s happening.

It’s a blur after that until she’s sitting in the hospital waiting room and she realizes that 1. her shirt and her hands reek of Steve’s blood, and 2. she’s completely alone in the waiting room. Swallowing her tears, Claudia goes over to the payphone and fishes out some coins to call the Buckely’s. Robin’s father picks up but quickly hands it over when Claudia mentions Steve.

She will never forget the choked off sound of pure distress Robin makes when she hears what’s happening.

Hours pass, Robin had arrived shortly after the call and her and Claudia have been curled up together in the waiting room every since. They haven’t called anyone else, haven’t even thought about it, too worried about Steve. Later, Claudia will remember the other kids who adore Steve, Hopper who treats Steve like a son. But in that moment, still not knowing if her boy is okay, she can’t.

Finally, a doctor steps out, clearly fresh from surgery, to speak with them. She explains that Steve had a very severe infection in multiple wounds, especially the ones on his side. They had to debride the wounds, which is what took so long. He was lucky that she found him when he did and that he hadn’t picked up any truly terrible bacteria. He hadn’t gone septic, thankfully, but he was going to be on seriously strong antibiotics for a while. She explained that he was in the ICU and they aren’t supposed to let anyone but family see him.

Claudia wanted to scream and sob and go find the Harringtons and get them to come see their son, but before she even says anything Robin explains that Steve’s parents had all but disowned him and her and Claudia were both in his emergency contacts, not his parents.

The doctor lets them see him. They have to wear face masks and gloves, but they can see him. Claudia had never seen him look so small. And there, in that ICU room, her and Robin both broke and started crying. That was how Jim Hopper found them when he arrived shortly after, the nurses having called him. He’s wearing a mask and gloves but his eyes are wild and scared. He nearly falls over when he sees Steve.

Steve is unconscious for almost two weeks, though the first four or five days or so were due to sedatives - the doctor wanted him to rest and let the antibiotics work. After he was taken off the sedatives he was moved out of the ICU, to a regular room where other people could visit. The kids came and decorated his room, even brought something Eddie had “commissioned” from Will (it looked like Steve ripping one of those creepy things from that alien movie apart, which she really didn’t get). Joyce brought him the quilt from her couch that he always enjoyed at movie nights and Robin came in every other day with his shampoo and conditioner to wash his hair for him (on days she didn’t come to wash his hair, she would come do something else with him. One day Claudia walked in on her painting his nails and her heart felt like it was melting).

The day he finally woke up was the first day Robin hadn’t been able to come. Her parents had forced her to take a break and get some sleep, so Claudia was there on her own just reading a book. She was so engrossed in it that she dropped it in shock when she heard the person on the bed in front of her make noise. Her eyes instantly went to Steve and she could see him scrunching up his face and groaning.

Claudia was by his side in a heartbeat, gently grabbing his hand and brushing a hand over his cheek, speaking softly to let him know she was there. His eyes slowly squinted open, clearly struggling to get the energy to move at all. Their eyes locked and his mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile at her. Then, as she was watching him with tears in her eyes, he opened his mouth and spoke for the first time in weeks.

“Mom….”

[alesandraelin]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚍 - 𝙰𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚆𝙵𝙲 𝚡 𝚃𝚎𝚎𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Description: reader's parents kicked her out and she is struggling. The team is always there for her.

awfc x teen!reader Kim Little x teen!reader

*Homophobic parents, self worth issues, angst with a happy ending

Kim was the first to notice. Kim is always the first to notice if something is wrong, especially when it is something to do with her protégé.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Y/n trudged onto the football field, her heart heavy with the weight of the previous night's events. Her parents' harsh words still echoed in her mind, each syllable a reminder of the home she no longer had. The field, usually a place of solace and escape, felt foreign and unwelcoming today. She tried to shake off the feeling, but it clung to her like a second skin.

As the team gathered for their morning warm-up, Y/n forced a smile, hoping it would mask the turmoil inside. Her teammates chatted animatedly, their laughter ringing out in the crisp morning air. Y/n moved through her stretches mechanically, her mind elsewhere. She was grateful for the routine, something familiar to hold onto amidst the chaos.

Jonas blew the whistle, signaling the start of a new drill. This one involved quick footwork and passing accuracy, requiring each player to move swiftly between cones while maintaining control of the ball. Y/n took her position, determined to push through the haze of her thoughts. She moved with the group, her feet dancing around the cones, but her usual grace was missing. The ball slipped away from her, rolling out of bounds.

"Come on, Y/n! Keep your head in the game!" Jonas called out, his voice carrying across the field.

Y/n nodded, forcing herself to concentrate. She retrieved the ball, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. As she resumed the drill, she caught sight of Viv and Beth, her teammates and a couple, working together seamlessly. Their movements were in sync, a testament to their understanding of each other both on and off the field. Y/n felt a pang of envy mixed with admiration. The ease with which they expressed their love was something she had always longed for, yet it was the very thing that had driven a wedge between her and her family.

Nearby, Katie and Caitlin, another couple on the team, were laughing as they practiced passing the ball back and forth. Their joy was infectious, and Y/n couldn't help but smile despite herself. Yet, the sight also served as a stark reminder of her own situation. While her teammates were embraced for who they were, she had been shunned by her own family for loving women. The injustice of it all gnawed at her, threatening to overwhelm her composure.

Jonas called for a water break, and Y/n gratefully took the opportunity to catch her breath. She sat on the grass, sipping from her water bottle, trying to steady her racing heart. Kyra and Vic had both attempted to talk to the girl only to be met with annoyed mumbles and blank stares. Teyah got the same treatment when she tried.

Kim watched on with a frown on her face, Jen coming to check on what she was so worried about.

"Just look at her, it like every bit of light has been sucked out of her. I can't bear it." Kim sighed as she watched you zone out, kicking at the ground aimlessly.

"You know her better than anyone Kimmy, go talk to her after practice." Jen encourages before they are all called back onto the pitch.

Training didn't get any better for the remainder of the day. Poor passes, sloppy in possession and way off target when shooting. It just wasn't good enough and Y/n knew that. The words of her parents from the previous night going through her head with every failed attempt on goal, every time she lost possession by making a silly mistake.

All the girls saw it, they noticed how sloppy her play had become. A stark contrast to her normal 110% effort every time she trained. It worried them all. They all made an effort to try and boost her up with pats on the back and words of encouragement but they were met with silence and no improvement.

Training ended as the afternoon air came in. The girl made their way off the pitch and back into the locker room. Y/n lingered back as she watched them all converse. Beth & Viv walked hand in hand into the locker room in front of y/n. This made her chest pang, it was jealousy, it was longing, it was sadness.

All the girls chatted as they got changed and packed up their stuff whilst y/n sat in her cubby trying her best not to cry. She was approached by Leah who knelt down to her height in her cubby.

"You alright chick?" The blonde asked, her brows furrowed in worry.

Y/n looked up at Leah, putting a small smile on. "I'm alright, I slept really rough last night thats all, I'm sorry for not being at by best today Lee."

"Don't apologise y/n, we all have off days. Try and get some sleep so we can get our happy girl back yeah?" Leah patted the girls shoulder as she stood up to go home.

With Leah gone, y/n looked around the locker room spotting no one there, she let her guard down and broke. Tears streamed down her face as she replayed the harsh words of the night before. Her parents' anger and disappointment had cut deep, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. She hugged her knees to her chest, seeking comfort in the small, enclosed space she had created for herself.

What y/n didn't know was Kim hung around to talk to Jonas about something and had just reentered the change rooms as y/n was crying. Kim quickly made her way over to the small girl, wrapping her arms around her, pulling her close.

"Y/n?" Kim's voice was gentle, filled with concern. "What's going on sweetheart?"

Y/n quickly sat up, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "I'm fine, just tired." She tried so reason as her voice cracked and tears continued to well in her eyes.

Kim shook her head, squeezing her a little tighter. "You don't have to pretend with me. I can tell something's wrong. Do you want to talk about it?"

Y/n hesitated, the words lodged in her throat. But the kindness in Kim's eyes coaxed them out. "My parents... they kicked me out last night. I finally worked up the courage to come out. They don't love me anymore Kim." The last sentence broke her as she cried again.

Kim's heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/n's voice. She reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Y/n's back. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. That must be incredibly painful."

Y/n nodded, her tears flowing freely now. "I just don't understand why they can't accept me. Seeing everyone else so happy and accepted... it just makes it hurt more."

Kim nodded, understanding the depth of Y/n's pain. "You deserve to be loved and accepted for who you are. And you are, Y/n. By all of us."

Y/n looked up, her eyes searching Kim's face for reassurance. "But where do I go now? I don't have anywhere else, I'm 17 I just want my parents."

Kim's expression softened further, her resolve clear. "You can stay with me, as long as you need. You're not alone. The team loves you and I love you. You are so incredibly brave and strong."

The offer hung in the air, a lifeline extended in Y/n's darkest moment. Gratitude surged through her, mingling with the sadness. "Thank you, Kim. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Kim smiled, her own eyes misty with emotion. "We're a team, Y/n. We look out for each other. Arsenal is a family. You're part of our family."

Y/n leaned into Kim's side, drawing comfort from the warmth and solidarity. The locker room, once a place of routine, had become a sanctuary—a space where she could be herself without fear of judgment.

"You're so strong, Y/n," Kim continued, her voice steady. "And we'll get through this together. You've got a whole team behind you, ready to support you every step of the way."

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: It's been some time since your death and yet none of the Hashira still have the heart to remind Muichiro you're gone. A/N: I'm not too sure if the title means what I think it means so let me know if it's wrong...anyways I got the idea from a fic of @oceanxmoonz, so credits! Also you can probably tell I got lazy at the end... WARNINGS: (y/n) is dead. That's it.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

Shinobu’s smile was a little faker than before as she turned around to face the expectantly waiting Mist Pillar, who seemed a little upset. She couldn’t answer that quite yet. “Are you looking for them?”

“Yes,” Muichiro said plainly. “I couldn’t find them at all this morning. Or afternoon…have you seen them?”

Was it sadder to watch Muichiro lose his closest friend - if not something more - and grieve about it for a long time after or sadder to watch him forget they were long dead? That they weren’t avoiding him like his amnesia had him think, that they actually couldn’t? He always needed to be reminded and Shinobu didn’t like to be the one to do so.

“Tokito…they died a few months ago, remember?”

“No, they didn’t. Ginko would’ve told me.” His eyes widened, then narrowed angrily. “I don’t think that’s a very funny thing to say, Kocho.”

“But, Tokito-”

“I’ll go find (y/n) myself,” he said abruptly, then walked off.

Of course he came back later with the same question; of course Shinobu’s smile faltered.

***

“…I forgot your name.”

“…”

Muichiro blinked at the stoic Pillar before him. “You’re the…something Hashira, right? I think (y/n) mentioned you. Are they back from both of your mission yet?”

Tomioka hesitated. He was honest but he wasn’t cruel. He knew exactly what Tokito was talking about, knew that he suffered from huge blanks in his memory. He envied the younger Hashira a little, to be able to forget such tragedy - however seeing him constantly wander around wondering where they’d gone was a pitiful sight.

So in the end he decided to evade the question. “Yes. (y/n) came back safely from the mission.”

The Mist Pillar’s eyes lit up. “Thank you. I’ll go find them now.”

Yes, (y/n) came back from their mission together safely. If only the same could be said of the last.

***

“HAR?”

“I said, where’s (y/n)?” Muichiro sighed after his almost shout at the disbelieving Wind Pillar. “Has your mission damaged your ears?”

“You little-” Sanemi checked himself. “I know damn well what it was you said.”

“Okay then, where’s (y/n)? I found this flower I wanted to show them.”

The older man’s mouth fell open, probably to harshly remind Tokito for the fifth time that month that who he was looking for was long dead and gone. Then it closed again.

Sanemi was not a soft man, evidenced by his scars, shouts, and treatment of his younger brother. But at the end of the day his intentions, though misguided, were what he wanted best for everyone. It was a tragic world out there and whether his next words were going to exacerbate it he would accept the consequences whole-heartedly - no one would fault him for not wanting to bring the poor kid back to shattering reality either, right?

“Probably out on another mission. You can’t keep hogging them to yourself, Tokito.”

“That’s odd…I thought they just came back…”

“Yeah, well, demons don’t wait for anyone!” Sanemi barked. Sadly, too true.

***

“Oh, Tokito…!”

“…Kan-something-san?” Muichiro’s face twisted in confusion as the pink-haired lady threw herself at him crying, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” Mitsuri straightened and wiped at her face, plastering a bright but trembling smile for the younger Hashira.

Muichiro blinked. “Okay. Have you seen (y/n)? I just got back from a mission but I can’t find them.”

“…perhaps they’re busy?” Mitsuri swept the tears on her cheeks again. “Don’t worry, I don’t think they’d ignore if they had a choice, Tokito!”

“Oh…alright then.” Muichiro drifted off, readily accepting Mitsuri’s story despite the obvious holes for lack of better explanation.

Mitsuri bit her lip, guilty at her lie. Every day Muichiro would approach with the same question and every day someone or some way it would be broken to him that (y/n) was long gone but as terrible as it made her feel Mitsuri never wanted to be the one who did it.

He’d found the love she’d always been searching for. Unfortunate one didn’t survive for long.

***

“Young Tokito! Are you looking for someone?!”

“You’re really loud…” Muichiro tilted his head. “Have you seen (y/n)?”

Tengen and Rengoku shared a look - the Sound Pillar broke the pause first. “Tokito, don’t you remember?”

“Remember what?” Muichiro’s attention span was already running out. “I think I saw them today but I can’t remember where.”

“You couldn’t have seen them,” Tengen starts again, for it’s not the first time the Mist Pillar has mistaken someone else for (y/n). “They’re-”

“Oh, right…at the Butterfly Mansion, I think. Thanks for…helping?” Muichiro left and the two Pillars glanced at each other again.

“Who’s gonna tell him? He can’t keep walking around thinking they’re still alive. That’s just cruel.”

“But if he remembers his spirit will be beyond crushed - you remember how he was when he first found out. For now, when we need to be most vigilant, perhaps we should let him be!”

Rengoku’s voice carried a tremor of uncertainty, however.

***

“I saw Kanroji and you talk a few days ago. Did you make her cry?” Obanai glowered menacingly at the deadpan Mist Pillar.

“No? She was crying?”

“Yes!” Kaburamaru hissed with his owner.

“Oh…right. Now I remember. I didn’t make her cry.” Muichiro looked up. “At least I don’t think so?”

Obanai resisted the urge to slap his hand on his forehead. He leaned in clsoer. “Why was she crying?”

“I have no idea,” Muichiro said, leaning back. He brightened. “Oh, right. I was asking about (y/n).”

“(y/n)?” Obanai stiffened but took a step back. “Oh. I see.”

“Which reminds me…I wanted to go see her after our sparring, but I don’t know where they are.”

The Serpent Pillar and his snake shifted uncomfortably. “You’ll find them.”

Not really. Obanai hoped for the sake of his comrade that he’d forget he’d already asked the question and not stumble upon (y/n)’s grave.

***

Himejima too cried.

It didn’t really make sense to Muichiro, but he let the oldest Hashira lay a hand on his shoulder and say some prayers. He didn’t really pay attention to the wording but he caught his name and (y/n)’s.

It was safe to assume the Stone Hashira didn’t know where they were so Muichiro bid him goodbye (or at least he thought he did) and set off to go find them himself. From behind the trees one Shinazugawa Genya watched him go before joining his master’s side.

“Why isn’t anyone telling him?” Genya couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose someone so close to you, someone to love and care for, and not even remember when they were no longer there.

“Some things must be found out by himself.”

“Isn’t it unfair to (y/n)’s memory if Tokito doesn’t remember?”

“I’m sure (y/n) will understand…they were very patient with him. They will understand that he needs to take his own time in coming into terms with…”

“Coming into terms?” Genya’s frown deepened. “You mean it’s not just his memory thing?”

“Grief and denial are strange things.”

***

“Where are you, (y/n)?”

Muichiro knelt down by the headstone, dropping the bouquet next to him. “I hope you’re happy, wherever you are. I’m sorry I forgot about you for so long.”

He takes a deep breath and begins to tell about his day, like he’s been doing every day ever since he regained his memories after that fateful fight at the Swordsmith Village and befriending Tanjiro. He thinks they’d like this version of him much more.

“The demons have been awfully quiet lately,” Muichiro mused. “They say Kibutsuji’s planning something. They’re probably all out to get Nezuko. A big all out war’s going to be coming, I think, and I’m sorry I won’t be able to visit when that happens. So I’ll come more often now.”

He dusted off the stone, staring sadly at the inscription. “I’ll kill the demon who got you. I promise.”

At the price of his own life, (y/n) knew, sitting invisibly next to him, crying transparent tears but he wasn’t to know that.

[psi-hate]

alright, this really, really sucks but i have an unfortunate update that occurred regarding my recent living situation.

not to get into too much detail for the sake of my friend's privacy, but she and her fiance offered to take me in after i was suddenly on the verge of homelessness this february. i accepted their offer and moved in thanks to everyone's support, and for the last few months, i felt comfortable and capable in getting myself together for the first time in years.

however, despite what i assumed were all positive developments, things started getting a lot more complicated. i become exposed to the treatment and stress my friend has been suffering from her fiance over many years, from being spied on via tracking apps, in-house cameras, a ridiculous jealousy complex and all sorts of other personal issues.

her friends and i have been supporting her over the years, but i didn't realize how bad it was until i started to be subjected to it as well.

my friend decided to break up with her fiance last week, finally standing up for herself but still wanting to remain friends and live as normally as they could, they still had the house and their cats and such. her now ex-fiance hasn't taken kindly to this and has been pretty passively hostile towards us, and has started to take it out on me.

she started stalking my tumblr to find things to get mad at, and checking the cameras when i leave my room. i've not felt comfortable to leave my room in well over a week other than to get some food or use the bathroom in the middle of the night, the tension has been a nightmare.

my friend and i decided we needed to move out, especially me since i'm technically not a tenant and we suspect she's going to call the police on me to get me out of here. my friend will be going to her parents at a later point, but i unfortunately need to leave within a couple weeks as i've already been "indirectly" threatened.

this is sort of a nightmare, and i feel so horrible things turned out this way for my friend. i tried my best, but this feels out of my control. trying to keep the peace has only made things worse, and we think it's best for me to book it before i get blind-sighted.

i suspect if her ex-fiance sees this, she'll retaliate, but at this point i've already made my peace with that.

unfortunately, i won't be able to bring much of my stuff with me, i only have enough money for a ticket to move in with another close friend as an emergency.

i don't have enough to buy any checked bags for most my belongings, especially my desktop pc, so once i move i'm very likely going to not be able to do my art or anything until i can afford a laptop eventually. i'm really sorry to those waiting on any commissions, i'll try my best to get them done before i move. i feel so horrible about this.

if anyone is able to help, i'd really appreciate it. even just a reblog is more than i can really ask. i hesitate to make this request because i feel like i just asked for it only for it to all be wasted once this exploded in my face. but i've been encouraged to reach out, and i apologize if this is too much. my ko-fi:

thank you so much for supporting me so far. i don't want to disappoint anyone anymore. i am so scared but i still want to keep trying.

[byunpum]

Tsa·zìskrrmipaw

Pair: Neytiri x Y/N human baby x Sully family

Warning: Mention of dead, soft moments, mama neytiri <3

Request: (Anon) I love how you describe neytiri being our mother. Can I asked if you could react or make a small oneshot about how neytiri would adopt us.

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 2

Neytiri learned of your existence when your mother gave birth 1 year after neteyam's birth. It was big news in the clan. Mo'at attended the entire birth, as norm could not do anything else. Your mother had complications with the delivery, and she was losing a lot of blood. And the baby could not come out. After a labor of more than 5 hours, the woman died leaving mo'at with no choice but to deliver the baby on her own, asking eywa to keep the newborn alive. Norm was at her side, helping her, ready to provide oxygen to the newborn as soon as it came out of the woman's womb. To his surprise, just as mo'at pulled you out and the woman wiped the baby's nose with her hand and tapped the baby's back to make it respond. All this happened very fast, norm hear how the baby takes a breath and starts to cry. As if she could breathe air easily. Mo'at looks curiously at the man, placing the baby on her chest trying to pacify the baby.

After about 5 minutes and norm monitoring the baby, he notices how the lack of air began in the newborn. Putting on a special oxygen mask that your mother had prepared for you, he watched you breathe. Norm wanted to check something in his head, he thought it couldn't be true, but he wasn't wrong. After 10 minutes of letting you breathe human oxygen, he removed the mask and saw how the newborn kept looking to the sides, very calm. This child had the respiratory system of the na'vi. He almost fainted, how could this be possible.

Norm took it upon himself to investigate, and what a surprise he got. Your mother was a doctor, she had been one of those responsible for the creation of the DNA of the avatars. She had been injecting herself with a modified DNA for months, just so her baby could breathe the air of Pandora. Of course, this was very irresponsible of her, and Norm understood why she was hiding this experiment. He would never have allowed a baby to be experimented on like that. But well…it was too late. This was a surprise to everyone, the first human who could breathe in Pandora. Max and Norm discovered that this was only possible for fetuses, and not all of them. Only those that could survive the treatment, for your release your DNA withstood all the changes. And lucky for you…Mo'at wanted to take care of you, not as your mother but as your guardian. She felt a kind of responsibility, your mother was a very good person to her, and she had trusted her with everything. So she would take care of her daughter. And that's when neytiri met you.

She had given birth to lo'ak 5 months ago, and finding out that there was another newborn baby was very interesting to her. Her mother never told her that the baby was a human, neytiri thought it was another na'vi woman who had given birth and could not survive. And about the human who gave birth, well…she lamented the event but didn't think much of it. She could hear Jake lamenting, and everyone else but it wasn't her problem. She was on her way to her mother's hut, Mo'at had called her to ask her for a favor and to meet the new baby. Neytiri entered very excited, seeing how her mother was sitting there cradling something on her chest.

"Mother…did you call me?" speaks Neytiri. Mo'at settles herself more so that she is now seated in front of her daughter. "Yes, I want to ask you a favor" neytiti nods her head, now sitting up. As she settled lo'ak more on her chest.

"I think you already know about the human-woman who gave birth and died, right?" moat asks.

"Yes…it's very sad news" says neytiri, she doesn't want to imagine that scene. Now she was a mother and she can't imagine how hard it must be for a baby to be alone without its mother.

" Now that you know…I need you to take care of this baby" mo'at pulls out a human baby from her chest, of course she wouldn't have seen it, it was very small compared to her baby. Holding the newborn baby with only one hand, so that her daughter could see it. Before neytiri could speak, mo'at begins;

"She…her mother did not stand the birth, she is a very special baby neytiri…she can breathe our air, she can have a good life. Since you and your partner have adopted kiri, and jake is part of the humans. I think it would be the right thing to do, to help this baby grow up. Besides, you are the only woman who has just given birth, this baby needs to be fed with mother's milk," speaks Mo'at.

Leaving neytiri speechless, she more than anyone else knew that she did not like humans that much. And now she was asking him to take care of one of them. She adopted kiri, because the baby was a na'vi. And she accepted jake, because he had his na'vi body. But now that she would take care of a human child? His mother was going crazy. "Mom…I can't do that, get someone else to do it?" speaks neytiri in protest. Mo'at shakes her head, her mother looked calm. Placing the baby now, in a kind of nest she had prepared. This one was in front of her, in front of her feet.

"Daughter I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't necessary, this baby can't be raised by humans. She needs to breathe oxygen from these masks from time to time" mo'at held for a moment the mask norm had left for the baby. "But it's not just that…this baby's feeding is also from a na'vi. Norm already tried to feed her food that is used for human babies and she threw it up. She won't accept it, I thought you might be able to help. It's just feeding and basic care. You don't have to take care of her or adopt her." Mo'at speaks.

Neytiri was still looking at the baby with curiosity, she could have a lot of anger with humans. But she was not a monster, she was not a savage. What she was seeing there was a helpless creature, which she could tell was a little weak. Neytiri touches one of the baby's feet a little, seeing if it had any movement. "I'm afraid it will die if it doesn't feed well in the next few hours" says mo'at. Neytiri sighs, and thinks for a moment. Feeding a baby is not a bad thing, indeed it is very common in the clan. Helping and feeding the children in the clan was something that the women of the omaticaya clan helped each other with. So she would do it as a way to support her mother.

"It's okay," neytiri says, moving lo'ak a little to the side of her chest. Taking the human baby in her hands, carrying it carefully on her breast. It was very delicate and small. It weighed almost nothing, she was afraid that if it moved too much it would hurt the newborn. Neytiri moves the ornaments covering her breasts a little, bringing the creature close. Carefully positioning and guiding the baby. Noticing how the baby opens its mouth desperately trying to seek a maternal touch. After a few seconds, Neytiri watched as the baby began to suck with ease.

Neytiri settles in more, and places the baby on her forearm. She watched as the baby sucked the milk with great enthusiasm. She felt sorry, and an anguish filled her heart. She was such a small and helpless baby. Neytiri noticed how now lo'ak had gotten up, but did not begin to fuss or anything. He just started to move his little hands, until he found the human baby's foot that was right next to him. He touched it carefully and curiously, closing his hand. "Hey careful…be gentle" says neytiri in a low voice, trying not to wake the baby and not to upset her son.

After feeding the baby, neytiri continued to hold the baby to her breast. The baby had fallen asleep, and she looked more peaceful. She had finally eaten since she was born.

"Daughter…if you don't want to do it I understand…but I trust you and " mo'at is interrupted by neytiri. "Mother…it's okay, I will take care of her. After all she is a baby and she needs our help" says neytiri, stroking the baby's tiny head.

"Ok…Neteyam come here!!!" shouts jake, watching as his one year old son ran as fast as he could around the edge of the family hut. Kiri was next to him, playing with some toys. Jake watched as his partner entered the hut. Neytiri had her eyes on her chest, cooing at something. Jake thought it was lo'ak, but noticed how Neytiri had another net over her chest, and was holding something else. Jake gets up from the ground, and walks over to her.

"And what do you bring there?" asks jake. Watching as neytiri giggles softly, moving the net a bit revealing the face of a human baby. "That's it… it's newborn" jake quickly approaches taking the baby in his hands. It was instinctive, they already had their own children and seeing another baby was very common for them, they acted on their instincts. Cradling the baby in their arms. "This is that woman's baby, huh?" asks jake. Hearing how neytiri answers him with a "hmm". There was a small silence, until neytiri explained everything to jake. The man was a little surprised by his mate's attitude, she didn't usually act like that. Neytiri wouldn't even go near spider, and now she was taking care of a baby girl. A human baby.

"She needs to be fed and cared for…mom told me she needs this to breathe sometimes" says neytiri, holding up an oxygen box which had a small oxygen mask. "Well…there's nothing we can do" says jake, laughing a little. Neytiri moves closer to jake and gets closer to smell a little bit of the baby's hair. "She's very precious and special" says neytiri.

"yes….is very special" says jake. Until jake feels someone touch his feet. It was kiri and neteyam who wanted to be carried, they wanted to see how much their parents were doing. Jake kneels down, showing the baby to his sons. "She's a baby…just like your brother" jake speaks softly. A little neteyam reaches over and gently touches the baby's nose, to start laughing. He thought the baby was funny, and kiri does the same. The children were amazed at the baby their father was holding in his arms.

Neytiri didn't know what she was getting into, but she knew she was going to do her assignment very well. She herself began to doubt, the more Y/N grew up, because it was more than obvious that this baby was going to stay with them, after taking care of you for 6 months Neytiri told her mother that she would adopt you as her daughter. This news filled mo'at with joy. She knew she had chosen well, and that her daughter would do a great job. But now neytiri was doubting herself.

The mothers could be a little rude if they wanted to, it had been five years since Y/N had come into their family. And the Sully's had raised the girl as one of their children. There was no preference, no special care. You were a na'vi in the eyes of her family, but to some members of the clan you were still a strange human who shouldn't be in the village. It was more than evident that you were a human, but what human wore no mask at all?. Except you, and this bothered neytiri a lot. She was always hearing how some mothers commented on your appearance and made ignorant comments. Making fun of her for thinking she was the mother of this strange creature. This did not stop Neytiri, even though it hurt her, she went ahead with your raising. But it was normal for her to doubt her parenting and whether it was right for her to take care of you.

Neytiri had gone for a walk with all her children, sitting in a nice meadow. Watching her children run and play. Neteyam, kiri were running around. While lo'ak was lying with his head lying in her lap, while taking a nap. And Y/N she was beside her playing with a wooden ikran, making it fly. As she stood calmly by her side. Neytiri She hadn't been so calm in a while, taking out her bow that hung from her back. She used to carry it, in case there was something dangerous. She began to fix some details, like the loose string. Taking her knife to sharpen one of her arrows.

Neytiri was so focused, she didn't notice that Y/N had gotten up from the floor. You were small, so you didn't make much noise. You look for some branches, a rock, and some ropes from the trees that were on the ground. Running now to sit next to your mother. Neytiri notices how you sit down again, and is surprised to see how you have all these things between your legs. Trying to put them together, and imitating Neytiri. Copying how she was sharpening her arrows. "Honey…look it's like this" says neytiri, following your game. Giving you a stone that was next to you, for you to play with.

You were next to her, copying what she was doing. What was she worrying about, she felt a little silly. Here was the child she doubted she was raising right, imitating her. She chuckled to herself, stroking her daughter's face a little, pulling up the oxygen mask around her neck over her daughter's nose so she could breathe a little. Watching as the little girl continued her work of creating a bow. She knew that life at your side was going to be difficult, but it was going to be worth it. She knew that.

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 21]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4k

ao3 link

“Ahhhh.” 

You open your mouth wide so Doctor Minnie can shine her flashlight down your throat. She hums and haws as she peers in, looking for who knows what, and when she concludes her search, she scribbles on your chart. Your chart is a piece of notebook paper with a wonderfully drawn crayon portrait in the corner, your name carefully written out across the top, and timestamps with detailed notes of each check up you have received today. These notes include squiggles that could be interpreted as cursive and the letters a, m, and q repeated over and over. 

“You needs to drink more water and puts the towel on your ear,” your daughter tells you seriously. It is the same treatment you have gotten all morning, so you are well prepared for it. 

“Thank you, Doctor.” 

Minnie gives you a big smile, then whirls around to bark orders, “Nurse! We needs more water! Please, thank you!”

Matt is on the other side of the coffee table, sitting cross legged as he manipulates pipe cleaners around popsicle sticks. He and Minnie have been working on an art project for the better part of the morning - between your hourly check ups. He got his own checkup this morning and earned a band-aid on his cheek, but your daughter has been obsessed with making sure you are okay. 

You are in no way complaining over her dotting - you more than understand this is how she is coping with what happened and you are more than happy to receive fake shots and orders to stay sitting on the couch. Whatever makes her feel safe and happy.

You know her father feels the same way. 

He raises himself into standing, the smallest smile forming on his lips as he falls into his role, “Yes, Doctor. How many ccs?”

Minnie rubs her chin in thought, and you have to bite your lip so you won’t start laughing. She’s been so intense playing doctor, and you don’t want to discourage her. You are worried any teasing might upset her and that is the last thing you want to do at the moment, especially given the circumstances.

She finally decides on a number and declares, “Six!”

“Six ccs of water coming right up,” Matt tells her. He plucks your still half-full water bottle from the coffee table and starts towards the kitchen. Mouse watches him go, squinting her little eyes like she’s either judging him or trying to remember something. 

Apparently, it is the latter, as she gasps, then calls after him, “And appy juice!”

Matt gives a dramatic gasp and turns to face the both of you, “And appy juice? Are you sure, Doctor?”

Minnie giggles, clearly amused by her Daddy’s antics. There’s a difference between teasing and playing along, and Matt is king at being Mouse’s partner in crime. You’ve seen a different side of your daughter come out when she’s around him - a little bolder and more sure of herself - and you want nothing more than to encourage that.

“It’s for me!” Your little one says between her laughs and that makes Matt smile brighter.

“Ah, a drink after a hard day's work. Six ccs of water for Mommy and one appy juice for the Doctor.” 

“What do you say, Mouse?”

“Thank you, Nurse!” 

As Matt gets your drinks together, you help Minnie out of her Doctor’s coat and you fuss with folding it as she starts to put her check-up toys back into their bag. She must be getting tired if she is asking for her juice, but she looks completely alert and like she could keep playing for another hour or so before slowing down. She woke up at her normal time this morning, but at some point in the night she wound up in your bed. You don’t blame her at all for that.

You’ve been on your own roller coaster of emotions this morning. 

You woke up in a cold sweat - memories of being strangled flying through your mind - and the only thing that had been able to calm you was Matt’s arm around you. It helped to keep you grounded - remind you that you weren’t alone and that you were safe.

(“I love you.”)

No one can touch you or your baby if he is there and it isn’t some hindbrain ‘man protect woman’ nonsense. 

Matt is a superhero in the most literal sense. 

He has powers and an armored suit and fights bad guys. 

It is hard to wrap your mind around and you have so many questions, but you both agreed to wait until Minnie took her nap to talk. This isn’t a conversation you can have over her head. 

Minnie finishes picking up her toys just as Matt returns from his task. He lets her climb up onto the couch and settle against your side before handing over her juice. Your water gets placed on the table and you thank him before turning your eyes to your daughter.

“What do you want to watch, sweetie?” 

“Penguins,” she answers, right before starting to nurse her juice. You found a video about the life of penguins that is toddler friendly a few days prior and it is quickly becoming a favorite. The documentary is a nice change from the cartoons that usually make up your television time and you are fine to watch it for the upteenth time. 

Matt takes his place on Minnie’s other side, practically squishing her between you, and the three of you begin to quietly learn about the flightless tuxedo wearing birds. The video is a little less than thirty minutes long and by the time it is wrapping up, Mouse’s chin is on her chest, and she is snoring. In a silent agreement, you let Matt take care of putting her into bed for her nap. Though he has done it a few times now, he still cherishes the moment in a way you no longer do.

Your heart beats a little harder when Matt and Minnie disappear down the hallway. Your stomach swirls with anxiety over the talk you know is coming - though in a strange way you are not scared. You trust Matt to tell you the truth, but you are not sure you want to learn those truths. Doors you never even knew existed are opening to you and part of you wants to stay naive to the ongoings around you, but you know you can’t do that.

This is part of Matt’s world, and if he wants to be in Minnie’s, you need to know everything about it.

As you wait for Matt to return, you close your eyes and try to take a few deep breaths. It does nothing to calm your heart or mind, but it gives you something to focus on. You do not want to work yourself up by overthinking - that would just make things worse for everyone. So you count to five between inhales and exhales until you hear the door to the bedroom close.

(“I love you.”)

It feels like you stop breathing until the cushion beside you dips.

Your anxiety is flaring - your throat feels so tight and there is so much pressure on your chest. You know there isn’t a reason for your body to be reacting like this, but you don’t know how to stop it. You feel like you are trapped under your own worries, and you can’t escape.

“You’re terrified,” Matt says in a dull voice from beside you and you have to pry your eyes open to look at him. He looks so resigned and neutral, and your heart manages to pang for him between being crushed. 

You don’t know what he could possibly be going through - you are finally alone with him, and your mind has decided you need to have an anxiety attack. Does he think you think he’ll hurt you or something just as ridiculous?

You may have only known Matt for a short time, but you trust him. He hasn’t done anything to break that trust and he has shown you he cares. He sat with you in the hospital and stayed with you after until he knew you were okay to be on your own. 

He’s gone out of his way for you on so many occasions. 

He’s made you feel safe.

Wanted.

Loved. 

(“I love you.”)

(“I love you.”)

(“I love you.”)

Your mind is spinning and panicking and everything is so intense, but your mouth, as always, decides to work without permission.

“Will you hold me?”

The words shock you. You’ve never asked anyone to hold you - you generally don’t like to be touched - but when Matt’s arms are around you, the world seems a little more stable.

Matt seems just as taken aback as you are over the request. It takes him a moment to act, but then he chokes out, “Of course,” and opens his arms to you. 

You turn towards each other, you bringing one leg up to tuck under yourself, and slot together. Your arms go around his middle and you press your face into his neck, while one of his hands goes to your hair to hold you in place and the other starts rubbing up and down your spine.

The relief is almost instant. 

You release a long shaky breath and nuzzle yourself closer to him. He smells like your body wash and coffee, and he feels so solid against you. You feel like a shield has wrapped around you and nothing can get to you - not the all the day to day things you worry about like bills and messages you need to respond to nor all the evil things that lurk in the shadows. 

For once in your life, you feel like you're not alone. 

“I’ve got you,” Matt breathes into your ear and you believe him. 

“You’ve got me,” you repeat into his shoulder. You can hear how watery your voice sounds and you tell yourself you won’t cry. 

(“I love you.”)

You fall into a brief silence - you need a moment to recenter yourself and Matt seems to realize that. You feel him press a kiss to the side of your head as he continues to pet you and you have no idea why that helps to soothe your nerves. You let your eyes fall shut and focus on only him.

Once you don’t feel like you’ll get choked up if you start talking, you ask, “Is it okay if we talk like this?”

“Perfectly fine with me,” he whispers against you and you decide to just dive into it. 

“You’re Daredevil.”

“I am,” he confirms. 

“Will you tell me about it? From the start?” 

You feel Matt take a deep breath and to offer him some sort of comfort, you curl your fingers into his shirt, holding onto him a little bit tighter. 

“After I lost my dad and went to St. Agnes, they didn’t know how to deal with me. I didn’t have control over my senses, and I was angry at everything. I still don’t know how, but they found a man, Stick, to come help me - to teach me how to be Blind. He taught me more than that. He focused my senses, showed me I had control over them and how I could use them. And he taught me how to fight.” Matt’s words are steady and firm, but you can feel his heart pounding against you. 

You absorb the words, a frown forming on your lips, “he taught you to fight? As a child?”

He sighs against you, then nods, “Yes. Stick believed there was a war coming between the Hand and the Chaste and they needed soldiers for the Chaste. I’ll…I can tell you more about that later.”

“Okay.”  You want to know more about whatever the Hand and the Chaste are, but you can tell that is an entirely different conversation. One you aren’t quite ready for, yet.

“Stick taught me how to fight and how to use my senses to my advantage. He taught me how to channel my anger. My…my grandmother used to tell me the Devil was in the Murdock boys. And it’s true. I have the Devil in me - all my anger and rage. Stick taught me control. Then he left and I was angry he left, but I kept up my training. I didn’t need to enroll in martial arts classes to be able to learn - I could do it from blocks away. The boxing ring my Dad used to train at let me come in and use the mats and bags and I just kept at it.”

“Were you able to practice with people?” You ask. You know learning things in theory is way different than learning for practicality and fighting doesn’t seem like something you can just know in theory if you are a superhero.

Matt chuckles into your hair, “I got into a lot of fights in the schoolyard. I didn’t put up with bullies and no one wanted to admit I kicked their ass, so I never really got in trouble.”

With what you know of Matt and his personality and sense of justice, that makes perfect sense to you, and you say as much. He kisses your hair again before continuing on.

“When I reached college, I could…understand all the things I was hearing. All of the crime. I did everything I could - legally. I called the cops, I made reports, but more often than not, nothing ever happened. It made me angry - so angry - but my dad never wanted me to fight with my fists. He wanted me to use my head, do things the right way - so I tried. I really tried. For years. Then Foggy and I decided to start our own firm, to help the people in Hell’s Kitchen, really help them, and I couldn’t anymore. I couldn’t listen to the cries of kids being abused by their parents and people getting mugged and my city, the city I love, being poisoned. So, I let the Devil out.”

“And became Daredevil?”

“I did not choose that name,” Matt huffs, “But yes.”

You don’t remember much from when Daredevil first started appearing on the news - you were pregnant the first time you saw him, but you couldn’t pinpoint it. You have no idea what he was doing then.

So, you ask. 

“How? How did you let the Devil out?”

Matt doesn’t answer you right away. He noses at your hair and traces his fingers up and down your spine and you have the feeling he’s thinking over his answer.

“I went after all the people poisoning my city. Not just the muggers and abusers. The drug and weapons dealers. The corrupt. There was a man named Fisk who was trying to take over the city, turn it into something it isn’t.”

“I know that name,” you say against him, “I read about it. There were…two cases? Legal ones.”

“Yeah. It was…complicated. It is complicated. We went against him as Nelson and Murdock and I went against him as Daredevil. He’s in prison now and he’ll be staying there,” Matt tells you and you have the feeling you will have to have a whole different discussion about Fisk in the future.

“But what about now? You are still out there fighting.”

“The city still needs protecting.” 

It does, you know it does. Your attack is proof of that. You don’t want to think about it and the hands around your throat, so you press your face more into Matt’s neck and force yourself to fast-forward through the memory to something relevant to your current talk.

“You work with other…superheroes?” You ask. “Like Frank?”

“Frank isn’t a superhero and neither am I,” Matt scoffs, “But yes..I’m…learning to work with others. It’s not something I’m used to yet.”

“Tell me about them.”

He hums against you, then starts slowly, “You met Frank. He’s…we don’t get along. We have very different philosophies about how things should work, but he’s a good man. I’d rather be with him than against him and…I trust him to protect the people I care about. He’d fight tooth and nail for Karen - he has, and if I had to choose someone, besides myself, to protect you and Minnie, it would be him.” 

Again, you believe Matt. From what you have seen of Frank, and not the Punisher, you think that trust is well earned. If Matt trusts him, you think you should too.

“And there’s Jessica. She is a private investigator and….very strong. Luke is also strong and..uh..bulletproof. He’s dating Claire, who you also met, she’s a nurse who got wrapped up in everything and helps when we get injured. And then Danny and Colleen. They are…” he trails off, like he’s unsure how to describe them and you do not push. You can’t imagine having to describe superheroes.

“What about Foggy and Karen?”

Matt shakes his head, “I try to not involve them in Daredevil things, but it ends up overlapping. They want to help, but I want them to be safe.” He pauses and you can feel him swallow, like he’s nervous. “I tell them everything, though. I used to think I had to keep my lives separate - one as Matt Murdock and one as Daredevil. I’ve tried to live as only Matt and I’ve tried to live as only Daredevil, but neither worked. I’m still finding the balance of living as both, and they help me. They give me rules to follow, make sure the plans I come up with are sound and that all options are considered. That is what I want with you. I want to be open. I want to be able to tell you everything and not keep secrets. I have seen what that does to people in my life and I don’t want that with you.”

You take in his words and let them mull over in your mind. 

You can’t ask Matt to stop being Daredevil - you know you can’t. You heard what he said about why he needed to be Daredevil, and you understand that. He can’t sit by and do nothing, and by what he is telling you, he’s trying to be smart about it. He works with people to protect the city - to protect you. Yes, it scares you about all the risks he is taking and how they will translate into your life, but ultimately, the decision is his. If he wanted to keep you in the dark about everything, it would be a different story, but he doesn’t seem to want that. That makes it easier to accept and process - having as many pieces of the puzzle as you can helps you see the whole picture. 

You shift slightly in his arms, tucking yourself even closer to him, and ask, “What are you working on now? With Frank?”

Again, he doesn’t answer right away. You let him think over his words as you process. Your anxiety has definitely decreased - you feel like you can breathe and that things are going to be manageable. You can speak with Foggy and Karen and get their perspective on things and it can help you come up with a game plan. 

Having a plan is step one in everything being okay.

(“I love you.”)

“Jess, Frank, and I are…,” Matt starts slowly, “trying to help some street kids. They live in the sewers and don't trust the System or cops, but a few of them have gone missing and one has been killed, and they are scared. There's been guys in suits lurking near one of their hang outs and they don't appear in any government database, so we've been trying to track them down.”

Horror runs through you at his words. Someone has been hurting kids? Minnie’s face flashes through your mind and you press yourself closer to Matt. 

“Street kids?”

“Mostly teens,” Matt amends. “I gave them information about St. Agnes but I more than get why they don't trust it. The System is horrible. The sewers are the only place they feel safe.” You feel him lick his lips again, then to your surprise, his voice changes from serious to almost fond. “They have a tent city. They let us come down there and bring supplies last week. Blankets and food and stuff. Frank got them a cellphone, so they'll be able to contact us if anything happens.” 

Your mind spins at the idea of a bunch of kids living in the sewers. You knew it happened - New York is full of homeless people - but you never thought about it before. Guilt plagues you and you can't help but ask, “Can we help in other ways?”

Matt shakes his head, “Not in the ways you are thinking. We're going to find these guys and put a stop to whatever they are doing and right now that's the best we can do for them. They don't want to come up to the surface and if we try to force them, they'll move and still be in danger. After they know they can trust us and we put a stop to what is happening, we can start the next steps.”

“You'll protect them?” You ask, wanting to hear him say it.

“The kids may be under the streets of Hell's Kitchen, but they are still mine to protect.” His arms tighten around you, and you feel yourself melt against his chest, “And you are mine to protect.”

(“I love you.”)

“How do we protect you?” You ask, wanting to help in some way.

“Like this,” he hums, his fingers tangling into your hair a bit. “By reminding me what I am fighting for. Giving me a reason to live. I’ve been in the depths of Hell, just wanting to give up - give my life over to the Devil and go until my body stopped. I’ve been bloody and broken and alone. I don’t want that again. I want to be here with you. With Minnie. You’re my reason to get back up.”

(“I love you.”)

You press your face flush against his neck, your cheeks heating up at words. “Should I get a better first aid kit? Take CPR classes?”

He chuckles against you, and you feel it vibrate down into his chest, “That wouldn’t be a bad idea.” He pauses then tells you quietly, “Minnie has seen me in my armor, but I’m going to be doing my best to avoid getting injured in a way she can see. I have been working more on my defense - something I never really practiced.”

At the mention of your daughter, you pull back so you can look Matt in the face. Talking where you don’t need to look at his face has been helpful in calming your anxiety, but when it comes to Minnie, you need to look him in his sightless eyes.

“Are you going to train Minnie -”

“No.” Matt cuts you off before you can get the question out. “I’ll teach her how to cartwheel and other fun things, but I will never teach her to fight. I think everyone should take a defensive course to learn to get away, but I don’t want her to punch. I don’t want this anger inside of her. Minnie doesn’t have the Devil in her, and I won’t be the one to put him in her.”

You search his face and know he is telling the truth. You want your daughter to grow up to be a good person, to have as much passion as Matt does about helping the world, but the idea of her suiting up and fighting crime terrifies you. You are glad Matt feels the same way.

“Will you teach me?” You ask after a hesitant moment. “I was pretty abysmal at defending myself.”

He raises his eyebrows at the question, “You want to learn how to defend yourself?”

You shake your head, then lick your lips before dropping your voice just a touch, “I want to protect the people I care about, too.”

Matt tugs you forward gently until your foreheads are touching. You close your eyes again and let yourself start to smile.

“I’ll teach you whatever you want to learn.”

(“I love you.”)

--

a/n: we're over 100k words :')

--

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[roguishcat]

A welcome distraction

Summary: Astarion was not nice. Nothing about him was even remotely nice. Such a bland, plain word that carried little to no meaning. But perhaps, given the right incentive, he could be persuaded to be nice to the one person who he felt deserved it most.

Tags: Fluff, tooth-rotting fluff

Pairing: Astarion x female Tav

One-shot, 2.3k words

Set in the beggining of Act II.

Astarion stretched out languidly on Tav’s bedroll, watching her as she looked through their magic trinkets to decide which ones they could do without. Ever since Gale came to her, confessing everything, telling her of his folly, Tav has taken extra care to set aside an item or two that the wizard could consume.

Now, if this was done out of sense of self-preservation, that would be completely understandable. It would be quite unfortunate for that orb in his chest to get so volatile it would just explode at random. Such a waste that would be. The world would lose its most beautiful creature! And just as he was starting to enjoy his freedom! And he supposed the wizard had his uses too.

Astarion blinked slowly and sighed. As nice as it was to have no one try to murder them for a change, he was getting bored. And his favourite source of entertainment seemed to have no time on her hands for him.

And that just wouldn’t do.

He moved closer to Tav and lifted his hand to rest on her head, running his fingers through her hair and then lower down to caress the exposed skin of her neck. Astarion knew that he was distracting her, that was the whole point of the gentle, feather-light touches that made goosebumps rise on her exposed arms. And when that garnered no reaction, Astarion lifted himself up to press his chest against her back, snaking his arms around her middle.

“Darling,” he said smoothly, kissing her shoulder, making a move to lift her shirt enough with insistent hands to expose skin and trace slow patterns just above her hipbones, “don’t you think it’s time for a break?”

“As nice as that sounds, I still have to go through all the scrolls and potions.”

“Nice? I can’t promise anything that uninspired,” he scoffed. Nothing about him was even remotely nice. Such a bland, plain word that carried little to no meaning.

“Something wicked, however,” he drawled, his lips almost touching Tav’s ear “that I could definitely provide.”

“Well, as delicious as that sounds, I’m not moving until I get this done. But perhaps you could help?”

“Tsk, you are no fun,” he pouted, lifting a necklace with the tip of his finger. “What’s this one supposed to do?”

“Let me just check… Misty Step.”

“Keeping it,” he would have squirreled it away earlier, but a part of him felt a sick sort of dread at taking something without waiting for permission first. It was almost like a reflex more than anything. Not to take without permission, lest he be punished.

“If you want,” Tav shrugged with a smile. “Put it into your pile, it’s that one.”

Astarion inwardly preened when he noted it was one of the bigger piles. He spied a bow and two rings perched on top of a set of armour. He supposed getting nice new things was worth an hour of boredom.

It was still a novel concept. Having things of his own. Being given what he needed or simply wanted with no strings attached. And it wasn’t just him that got such treatment. Tav tried her best to make sure that everyone was taken care of to the best of her ability.

Astarion would probably never admit it unless faced with decapitation, but Tav has really started to grow on him. The pleasant manner in which she carried herself, the ferocious way in which she fought, the unwavering loyalty to those she considered friends.

That was yet another novel concept, having friends.

 “Darling, I can’t help but notice that you didn’t choose anything for yourself.”

“I don’t need anything right now.”

That was a lie. Her armour breathed its last when they went up against the goblins to protect the Grove. She could definitely use a new pair of boots too.

“As sweet as you are for thinking of others before yourself, I would rather you not become a pincushion next time we are ambushed. Here,” he picked a set of armour at random, “take this.”

“And Shadowheart will have to do without, I suppose?” she raised an eyebrow.

“She’s a cleric. She can heal herself,” Astarion gave a nonchalant shrug. He didn’t care much about what happened to Shadowheart.

Tav laughed, making something warm and pleasant bloom in his chest. He hated how much he enjoyed hearing her laugh.

“Well, this armour is a bit too heavy for me anyway,” she put the armour back and added a couple of scrolls that Shadowheart could make use of. “Maybe I will pick something up next time we need to sell stuff.”

She was right. They did amass quite a collection of useless nick knacks when they looted the abandoned houses in the Blighted Village. And lugging all the bits and bobs that Tav insisted on taking with them was getting rather tedious. Not that he carried much personally. However, he imagined if Lae’zel caught onto him having the lightest load, the gith would personally make sure that his pack would be stuffed to capacity.

Except when they went to sell the items, she once again did not buy anything for herself. Astarion could not understand her ridiculous altruism! Not that he cared that much, but still. Tav dying would most definitely throw a wrench in his plans. Therefore, with that in mind only, he bought Tav new armour, bow and boots.

Strange. The first time he spent money in years, and it wasn’t even on buying something for himself!

The next day, Tav woke up to find that someone had been to her tent. And that mysterious someone left her gifts. Brows furrowing, she picked up a pair of boots. They were clearly enchanted and probably not something they could afford at the moment. And that begged the question, who would splurge so much and not even give it to her personally?

She admired the armour and ran her fingers over the leather. As she shifted it slightly sideways to have a better look at the clasps, something sparkled in a stray ray of light that got in through the slight opening in the tent flap.

Tav noticed the necklace perched on top of the pile.

“Misty Step,” she murmured, a small smile tugging on her lips as her fingers ghosted over the rest of the gifts.

Changing and making herself somewhat presentable, she walked out of her tent and towards Astarion’s, greeting Gale as he prepared their breakfast. To their delight, the group recently stumbled upon a cellar filled with boxes upon boxes of food. Gale was especially pleased at having the opportunity to prepare proper meals for a change rather than have two or three odd ingredients to work with.

When Tav opened the flap of Astarion’s tent and walked in, the elf was already up and apparently deeply engrossed in his book, not even bothering to look up to greet her. Tav waited a beat, but Astarion pointedly refused to acknowledge her. Which Tav knew he had to be doing on purpose, because there was no way that he couldn’t hear her breathing and the staccato of her heartbeat as she grew more nervous by the minute.

Crouching by him, she put her hand on top of the page.

“Darling, as much as I enjoy your presence in my tent, you are distracting me from my reading.”

“I see. Good book?”

“It is. Absolutely riveting.”

She decided not to comment on the fact that he had already read this book twice, as they didn’t come across any new reading material that was of interest to Astarion.

“Help me put this on?” she smiled and handed him the necklace, holding her hair up and leaving her neck exposed, making Astarion’s mouth water.

“Tsk, can’t manage without me, darling?” he teased, but put his book aside.

“I can. But I’d much rather you did it.”

Gently, he slid the jewellery in its place, letting his fingers linger on her skin a touch longer than necessary and making Tav sigh contently.

“Thank you,” she pecked his cheek. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. But perhaps come nightfall,” he leaned closer and all but purred, “I could look after you in a-”

“Astarion,” Tav put her fingers on his lips, “thank you.”

“Oh, please! You thought it was me? Darling! Giving you a necklace? Out of all mundane, unimaginative things to gift!”

Astarion inwardly kicked himself. What was he thinking, trading her smile for a blunt comment like that? It wasn’t the way he usually operated. It was counterintuitive, it was stupid. He was supposed to be furthering her attraction to him, so what in the hells was he doing by telling her that the gifts came from another?

“Mmhh, of course it couldn’t have been you,” Tav agreed easily, laying a tender kiss on the underside of his jaw and then another just below his ear, “so sorry for the misunderstanding.”

“I -I argh,” he shuddered as blunt teeth nibbled on his earlobe, “apology accepted.”

“So… who do you propose I should thank then?” Tav breathed against his cheek and then looked him in the eyes.

“Excuse me?” Astarion frowned as she moved away.

“Well, if it wasn’t you that left the armour, the necklace-

“And boots!” he interjected quickly.

“Ah yes, thank you for reminding me,” she nodded, running her hands down his arms to take his cool hands into her own. “Who should I be thanking instead of you, hm?”

“I know! It was probably Shadowheart,” she said with an air of someone having an eureka moment.

“Shadowheart?!”

“No, it couldn’t have been her,” she mused, letting go of his hand to tap a finger on her lips as she pretended to think hard. “Shadowheart didn’t come with us to the vendor. Must be Wyll then, he did comment on my boots being worse for wear.”

“Wyll just spent half the journey flirting with Lae’zel!” Astarion spat with distaste, sounding rather like a scandalised virgin gossiping about a debutante with a questionable reputation.

“True, true. Well, that leaves Gale. Unless it was the only other person who came with me yesterday…”

Astarion swallowed and pouted but didn’t say anything.

“How silly of me to assume it was you. I’ll let you get back to your reading. Off I go to give Gale a proper thank you.”

Tav rose and let go of his hand, making Astarion panic a little. Like hells Gale would be the one getting recognition for the nice thing that he did!

Rising quickly, Astarion grabbed Tav’s waist. She squealed when he spun her round roughly, pressing her body to his.

“You are not going anywhere, you cheeky pup,” he whispered against her neck, his cool breath making Tav shiver involuntarily and grasp onto his shirt.

“And since you insist on thanking me, I will graciously accept your gratitude.”

He was a benevolent creature, after all. And since Tav was in the mood to shower him with affection, he supposed he could allow it.

“Thank you,” she kissed his cheek.

“Thank you,” his forehead, just under an errant curl that fell over his eyes as he tilted his head forward.

“Thank you,” she pressed her lips to his, making Astarion groan as he deepened the kiss, one hand steadying Tav whilst the other travelled lower. He nibbled on her swollen, pouty lower lip, enjoying the delicious mewling sound she made and then-

“Breakfast is ready!” Gale’s voice rang jarringly loud from somewhere outside the tent, startling Tav. She withdrew with a sigh, looking more than a little disappointed at having to leave. Ever the dutiful leader, ready to start her day and selflessly brush aside her own wants and needs.

Astarion was having none of that.

“Where do you think you are going, hm?”

“Um, well..” Tav began, but found herself to be quite mesmerised with the heated, predatory look he was giving her.

“I haven’t had my breakfast yet, and I am feeling simply ravenous.”

He pulled the collar of her shirt aside, admiring the way the necklace rested against her skin and then his eyes travelled lower down still as Astarion mused about whether he was being too traditional by drinking from her neck when there were such tantalising, mouthwatering choices to be made.

“May I?” he murmured, trailing his nose against her collarbone, then lower and lower still, brushing against the necklace that rose and fell with her breaths. Astarion felt Tav’s fingers gently thread through his curls, skimming along his ears in a way that had him suppressing a moan.

“Yes.”

She always said yes. And recently rather than thinking her a fool for it, Astarion felt… something else. He couldn’t explain what it was that he felt even if he tried. But Tav was becoming more than a means to an end. More than a target. More than a night that was better to forget.

Weeks later, he would find that she was the light that illuminated the darkest recesses of his mind and soul. The warmth that welcomed and comforted him, preventing him from retreating into himself when he was hit with the horror of what he had done in his years of slavery. She would come to be the only person that he truly cared about. But he didn’t know that yet.

As he drank, Astarion decided that perhaps he would allow himself to enjoy whatever this was. Not overthink it. For now, he would let himself linger on the precipice of making the discovery of what exactly Tav was to him without worrying of what would happen once he fell.

For now, he would let himself enjoy not having to worry about what tomorrow would bring. For now, she would be his most welcome distraction.

Tag list: @ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale, @clazberryk

@anukulee, @preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Hello I love your writing so much

Could I please request for 9th member reader who didn't come from the healthiest families and she's very sensitive, keeps to herself when the boys ask her about it. However once she and chan get into an argument about her coping mechanisms and in his anger he gives her the silent treatment (for about a week?) And finally she break down in front of one of the other members, telling them about how her mother would always give her the silent treatment and she was never encouraged to express herself etc... and the boys all comfort her?

Thank you so much!!

Toxic traits.

Warning: Angst, crying, panic attack, mean Chan

Summary: as requested ^

Pairing: reader x Ot8

**

“Y/n?” The voice sounded like it was distant. She could barely hear but how could she? The painful ring in her ear blocked out everything around her.

“Y/n? You okay?” Hyunjin asked her again trying to get her out of her trance.

“Yeah-yeah,” her voice is caught in a crack. The hot feeling of tears starts to build up. “I’m fine, where are the rest of the boys?” She cleared her throat and put her bag down.

“They went to get some coffee, I told them I would wait here for you. Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked one last time to be certain. He could sense her vibe was off but yet again it was Y/n. She was the most mysterious yet energetic person you could come across. Oh? And she’s the youngest.

“Yes I’m fine Hyun, we should head for practice. We don’t want to keep the boys waiting,” she gave him another comforting smile before grabbing her bag once again and making their way to the JYP building.

The walk was quiet. Her thoughts were currently running haywire as she tried to peace everything together but she knew today wasn’t going to be a good day. The argument she had with her father still played in her head.

“So, what do you have in your schedules today?” Hyunjin interrupted her thoughts trying to ease the tension in the air.

“I just have dance practice with you guys then I get a break and you?”

“I have a photo shoot later after practice, kinda cliché themed.” Y/n giggle at this. Hyunjin gave himself a pat on the back for making her laugh.

“Well, I hope stay don’t make fun of you because that’ll be more memes coming out,”

“Yeah, yeah, as long as I rock the outfit no one can bring me down,” he flexed his biceps earning a gag sound from the manknae.

“Hyunjin that’s gross,” she rolled her eyes as they both entered the studio to find the boys stretching. They all said their “hello’s” and started their practice off.

“Y/n get your head in the game,” Leeknow scolded her. She had been messing up a lot today and now that they were halfway through, she hadn’t gotten anything done causing the whole group to get lost.

“I’m trying okay?” She snapped back at him. Han’s neck snapped in their direction as he looked at her in disbelief.

“Don’t snap at him like that, his older than you,” Han joined in the scolding. Y/n was tired and frustrated now. She couldn’t deal with them hopping on her back.

“Okay whatever,” she walked away from the both of them and sat on the floor by her bag trying to look for her water bottle. The boys were looking at her from a far trying to figure what was bothering her today.

“Hey Y/n?” I.N finally gave in and sat besides her to check in.

“Yes I.N?” She replied in her soft tone.

“You okay? You’ve been messing up all day-“

That was all she needed. That little push to throw her off the edge. Her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and she stood up still facing I.N. Her anger was at a 10 and she couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I’m fine okay?! What is wrong with all of you?! Don’t you see I’m trying?! Can’t you leave me alone for once?! Why does it seem like whatever I do is a problem-“

“Y/n. Out. Now.” Chan’s loud voice shook the room quite literally. She stormed off to stand outside by the door. Trying to keep her cool but she couldn’t.

“Don’t you see this is a waste of time? You’re a girl! You won’t survive in this industry!”

“But dad I- the boys got me. We’re making it-“

“Those boys will soon leave you just like your mum did. You’re pathetic and a waste of space. You don’t even bring anything to the table!” Her father’s voice was loud through the phone.

“Why won’t you let me to what I want for once?” She begged.

“Because! I spent my whole life working my butt off to provide for you and now look at you? You’ve basically become a stripper”

“Dad don’t say that-“

“Well it’s the truth.”

Her father’s words echoed in her ears. She felt helpless. She felt useless. She felt disgusted by herself.

“What was that?” Chan storms out the room. He was angry. It was obvious.

“Nothing-“

“What is wrong with you? What’s your problem? You’ve been so moody all day and whenever we ask you what’s wrong cause we know damn well we didn’t do anything wrong, you start acting bratty,”

“Chan I was just trying to-“

“No, I don’t want to hear it. You will go in there and apologize. Understood?”

“Chan! You never listen to me. Your always taking their side,” she snapped at him.

“I know damn well you aren’t taking to me like that. I’ve given you time and time again to come talk to me but you crush it off and decide to be a bitch to everyone. So don’t even say I don’t listen to you-“

“I’m not being a bitch, I just want to be alone,”

“Okay then be alone. Stop bringing everyone down just cause you can’t deal with you problems, you better go apologize to everyone and you can head home,” the tears in her eyes started to fall once he left.

Maybe she indeed was the problem. Maybe she needed to learn a way to cope with her feelings. Maybe she just needed to shut up.

She slowly took steps back into the studio and everyone turned to look at her.

“I’m sorry if I snapped at any of you, I won’t do it again,” her sobs were heard. They were so painful to hear that even Chan was so close to stopping her and pulling her into a hug. He felt so bad but he knew he had to stand on business.

**

At first Chan thought that maybe her silent treatment would last a day or two but it dragged and it continued to drag till it was the 1 week stamp.

He grew worried because he wasn’t not just talking to him but she wasn’t talking at all. She would only say hello and then continue with her day. Not even talking to managers or staff.

She would just nod or say small” thanks you’s” or “goodbyes”. It was almost like the fight he had with her shut her up completely and this was eating him up.

The stress of the VMA’s performance coming up and having to deal with his members made everything 10x harder to cope with.

“She hasn’t been eating,” Changbin informs Chan who lets out a frustrated sigh. “Should I just talk to her? Maybe that’ll fix things,”

“She’s so mad, she won’t talk to anyone. Even I.N,” this caused Han and Changbin to gasp.

“They’re like bestfriends, it’s like they were never separated at birth. What do you mean he won’t talk to her?” Han asked.

“He came to me in tears yesterday because he attempted to get her to talk but she shut him down immediately,”

“Then you’re going to have to fix this Chan. She needs you even though she hasn’t said it. Maybe it’s something deeper than your fight,”

“I know that for certain Hyunjin but how can I talk to her when she keeps avoiding me and walking away,”

“Just go to the gardens,” Felix suggested.

Chan hadn’t thought about it and quickly gave a hug to Felix who he praised for a bit and run to the gardens.

There she was. Sat feeding ducklings. She had a soft smile on her face. Her cheekbones were becoming visible because of the lack of food and the stress of the shows coming up.

“Y/n?” He said while making his way to her. She remained still and quiet. Continuing to feed the ducks.

“Can we talk please?” Silence. “Look I’m sorry. I’m getting worried and you not being able to talk to me means that there’s something deeper going on. Can you talk to me please? I’ll shut up and listen.”

“My dad,” she sat up and looked over to him. Chan in disbelief after hearing her voice after so long. “My dad wants me to go back home,”

“What? What? He can’t do that. We’re a team. We’re your family,”

“I never told you about him because of how toxic he is Chan, he won’t leave me alone until I’m home. Where he can control me.”

“But your legal and you’re on a contract-“

“He doesn’t care Chan,” she looked up at him. The tears in her eyes started to pour like rain. Chan’s eyes soften as he grabbed her and pulled her into his arms.

“I won’t let him take you. Over my dead body.” Was all he said as she continued to sob.

“I’m so scared. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you Oppa,”

“Shhhh. It’s okay my love. It’s fine. You did now.”

He continued to comfort her until she could calm down. A constant apology left her mouth. Chan didn’t want an apology he just wanted to protect her and he knew the only way he could talk to her was if she had calmed down.

“Have you eaten?” He asked her knowing the answer. He just didn’t want to make it seem like he was tracking her consumption.

“I’m not hungry,” her face was squashed against his chest making the words come out a little muffled.

“You are. You’ve lost so much weight. Let’s go buy you some ramen and we can talk okay? How does that sound?”

“That’s okay Chan. I’m ready to talk.”

[certainlynotasimp]

I had a thought seeing as how whipped Miguel is for sunny what if sunny has Miguel get them like a puppy or kitten because I know he would eventually cave in

To Love and Hold.

((Miguel O’ Hara X Female! Reader))

A/N: This man is whipped more than cream😭😭. Thank you for the request and I’m sorry if it sounds muddled because I literally fell asleep writing it and I just finished it this morning.

A/N: If you guys wanna read more about Sunny and Miggy then come on to the Masterlist! And if you wanna be added to the taglist, then please leave a comment here>><<. And thank you all for reading💕✨

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Barely any use of (Y/N) ((Sunny is their nickname, not there name)), Female Pronouns, Fluff, Comparing Babies to Pets ((please do not have a baby if you want a pet lol)), Baby talk, breeding kink? (This isn’t a smut, but I love giving Miggy ideas), slight nudity, and Google Translated Spanish (It was 3am by the time I wrote this and I felt bad for messaging people to double check this so please forgive any mistakes and correct me the in comments.)😭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There are some things that always remain the same for every dimension. No matter how small or advanced that dimension may be, there were three things that Miguel can think of that always remains the same.

There’s always a Spiderman or Spiderwoman.

New York is still a cesspool for crime

….

“Miggy, come look at the kitties!” an excited shrill breaks the man out of his thoughts. He scowls at the unwanted attention around him as he readjusts the baseball hat on his dark locks. Not having his spider suit engaged was an odd feeling, especially since they were in an unknown dimension looking for an anomaly that not even Lyla can find.

“Come on, Guapito!” She urges as Miguel glares at her for yelling out in a public place. He tugs at the collar of his crew neck as he saunters over to the bouncing woman. Her pink sundress makes her standout like a sore thumb as she gawks at the group of kittens in the window.

There were three orange tabbies exploring their surroundings and tussling amongst their glass prison. He can agree that all of them looked adorable, but seeing as he was never an animal person, he doesn’t understand the cooing his companion does towards the cats.

“We can’t keep wasting time window shopping, mi amor.” He quietly scolds her as he gently leads her away from the pet shop and starts walking her down the sidewalk. His eyes burned as he looked at the pavement beside him until he felt a small tug to his shirt.

Already running though all the things that might come out of her pretty glossed mouth, Miguel sighs and looks at her. “What is it, shortie?” He tries to tease, hoping she would get annoyed enough to just give him the silent treatment.

“Miggy,” She sings sweetly, already the itching feeling started in Miguel’s brain.

‘What does she want?’

“I was thinking…” Her voice hesitated as he feels her arm slither it’s way around his waist. The hand on the small of her back tenses up as her touch ignited tingles down his back. “Since I’m the only person who lives at the Lobby and I can’t live with you…

Here it comes,

“Can I have a cat?” She flutters her eyelashes up at him as she presses herself into his side. Miguel tugs down his baseball cap as he rolls his eyes.

“No.” He answers sternly as he tries to avoid eye contact by looking around them. Miguel is as stubborn as a mule. If he decided on something, then there’s barely enough room for anyone to even breathe a different way about it.

He admits that when it comes to his little spider, he lets some things slide that he knew he shouldn’t have, but normally her requests were doable. Not this one.

“But, Miggy, why not?” She whines as she glares up at him.

“Can we talk about this later, Cariño?” He growls as he notices the atmosphere around them changing. Before she could protest anymore, her Spidey senses hit her like a shotgun.

“Watch out!” She warns as a cat gets throw over a row of buildings, heading right towards them. Miguel grabs her waist and leaps on top the nearest building as the car takes out the sidewalk.

Both put a pin in their conversation as they suit up and go detain the anomaly villain.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Another sticky note falls onto the floor beside his feet as Peter looks up to his colleague, amused by the antics he’s enduring.

For the past week, Sunny hasn’t let go of the idea of having a cat. Miguel tried envading her pleas at first, trying to distract her with other topics and missions to worry about. When she caught onto that, she confronted him about it. Much to his misery, he had to be brutally honest with her about why she can’t just bring a cat to come live with her in The Lobby.

“Taking something from another dimension is already risky enough, but to take a living animal could cause serious anomalies that will cause a crash.” He tried to explain with a stern stare as his love looks at him.

“Do you know for certain that it will happen?” She quips with her head tilting slightly. Miguel raises an eyebrow before replying, “I mean, considering if we are just talking about a normal cat, then no I’m not certain, but…”

“So let’s try it!” “Oh santa madre de Cristo... Mi amor, por favor sé razonable…”

Now her tactic has been subliminally suggesting him with hidden messages. He wasn’t surprise when Peter picked up the sticky note and sees a little doodle of a cat playing with a ball of yarn.

“Aww that’s cute.” Peter admires as he examines the note. “I can’t wait for Mayday to get old enough so she can draw me little doodles like this.”

Miguel snatches the sticky not from him and throws it on the small pile he’s accumulated. This might be Mr. kitty 11 or 12 that his Sunny has hidden in his suit today.

“(Y/N) has been hiding them on me hoping I would get her a cat.” He admits as he slumps into his office chair. Normally, he would act like it wasn’t bothering if it was anyone else making a stupid request. But it wasn’t just anyone. It was his beloved. His beloved who was so tired of spending nights here alone that she desperately wanted a companion.

“Why can’t you get her one?” Peter nonchalantly says as he leans against the monitor’s desk. “There’s plenty of strays around my apartment that she can have a full range to pick out of.”

Miguel scowls at Peter’s ignorance as leans back in his chair. “Any small change to a dimension can cause it to implode on itself. I’m not risking an entire universe just for one cat.”

Miguel digs his finger into his eyes as he groans in frustration. He hated making her upset, but she should understand just as well as he does what the possible consequences they would face if he did go pick up a random cat.

Peter watches at him in amusement before commenting. “Why not go get one from one of those dying universes? Certainly it wouldn’t cause too much damage if it’s already going to shit there.”

Miguel rolls his eyes as he looks at Peter in annoyance. “There’s still risk of-“

Peter claps his hands as an idea sparks in his mind. “Oh, I know, you two can have a baby!”

Miguel freezes in place as a look of pure horror goes over his face. His skin turned pale at the thought about having a child.

“Can’t risk the universe being brought to the end if you make a baby. Besides it would help her deal with her loneliness by constantly having someone to take care of and it would be a more fun to-“ Peter’s reasoning gets interrupted by the sound of Miguel opening a portal and jumping through as Peter smirks victoriously.

“Worked like a charm.” He chuckles as he knows he just made his friend one happy lady.

~~~~~~~~~

“Cariño?” A soft knock interrupts the deep slumber of the curled up spider as she stirs awake. She yawns as she looks over towards the clock and realizes it was the equivalent of 3am in Miguel’s home world.

Another knock draws her attention back to the visitor as she slips out of bed. Her body shivers as she exposed to the cold air of the room. The old college shirt only stopping at mid thighs as she shuffled to the door.

“Miggy?” She calls through the door.

“Déjame entrar, mi amor. Tengo un regalo para ti.” He pleas lovingly at her which causes her lips to curl into a soft smile as she realizes what he must have.

Opening the door, she gasps at the sight before her. In his spider suit, Miguel had several scratch marks along his face along with pieces of rubble in his dark locks. His dark eyes shined in exhaustion as the furious little ball of fur battled to be free from his hold.

Her concern briefly switches to awe as she sees a small, filthy kitten hissing and wiggling in Miguel’s large hands. Its long fur stuck out in clumps due to the debris covering it as its black and white fur looked gray. Its yellow eyes glares up at Miguel as it cries for its mother.

With a wide grin, the woman takes the small kitten from Miguel and holds it to her chest. The kitten stopped it’s hissing for a moment as it push itself off of her chest to look at her. A curious tilt of its head along with a soft hello causes a tear to roll down her cheek. The bundle of fur relaxes into her chest with soft purs emitting from its fragile body.

“Mi amor…” She whispers as she looks up at him, “Thank you so much…can I really keep it?”

“He doesn’t really have any other option. His world was dying due to some invasion caused by the Talokians and since the universe was crashing away, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to let you have the only survivor.” Miguel says nonchalantly as the conversation with Peter plays in his head again.

The idea of his little sunshine bare foot with swollen ankles as she roams around the Lobby and his apartment certainly was a conflicted vision. His clothing being the only thing that would fit over her body as she created their child in her body. Their child. Their family.

His thoughts get interrupted by the feeling of small hands dusting off debris off his shoulders. His eyes meet hers as he realizes that he’s been silent for a while. The kitten was now curled up on a soft looking blanket on the floor while his little spider tried to clean him up a little. Her soft lips connect several times to his jawline causing him to chuckle.

“You’re welcome, Cariño.” He mutters before leaning down and meeting her excited lips with his own. She giggles when he wraps his arms around her waist and picks her up as he closes the door behind him.

“Now then.” Miguel muses as his mouth curls into a warm grin while walking them to the bed. “You can show your gratitude by…” He pauses as his lips brush against hers again before a surprise squeal erupts from his love as she was tossed on the bed.

“Acostado ahí…” He mutters as he removes his gizmo, causing his suit to disintegrate, leaving him in only a tight pair of boxers. A blush forms on her cheek as she admires his muscular physique, despite the nasty bruises that mare his tanned skin. He smirks when he sees the effect hr has on her before crawling onto the bed. Her breath shudders as his broad shoulders slither up between her legs as his hips cause her legs to part.

Before she could react, Miguel lays his full body weight down on her as his head rests on her chest. His arms wrap around her waist as he buries his nose into her shirt as he yawns. His exhausted red eyes look up at her warm ones as he mutters against her clothed breast, “Y déjame dormir escuchando mi lindo corazoncito…¿Sería eso aceptable para ti, mi amor?”

Smiling softly down at him, his love’s arms wrap around his shoulders as a hand finds itself tangled in his thick locks of hair. “Of course, my love. It’s yours to listen to forever.”

With a soft kiss to his crown, the couple falls asleep in each other’s arms as their new kitten climbs up and curls up on Miguel’s back.

~~~~~~~

Translations:

ah maldita sea... mi vida, por favor se razonable…-ah fucking hell... my life, please be reasonable…

Déjame entrar, mi amor. Tengo un regalo para ti. -Let me in, mi amor. I have a gift for you.

Acostado ahí…-Laying there…

Y déjame dormir escuchando mi lindo corazoncito. - And let me sleep listening to my pretty little heart.

¿Sería eso aceptable para ti, mi amor? -would that be acceptable to you, my love?

~~~~~~~

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[zeroseuniverse]

Princess Treatment

WC: 910

Pairing: Yunho X reader

“Can I have three powdered donuts, please?” She asked sweetly, the worker almost beaming at the sweet face ready to serve her quickly. 

“Right away miss.” He bowed, rushing to put together the order.

The quaint shop was seemingly empty, but she couldn’t help but notice how homey the decor was, warm tones with odd accents here and there to make the place more inviting, magazines and books littering some of the tables making it look lived in. She found herself quite comfortable in the shop, that was until she heard the bell chime behind her, the clerk parking up to see the new customer while she idly avoided turning to face the newcomer.

“Can I help you sir?”The older male asked sweetly.

“Just give me her bill please.” The deep voice rumbled behind her, his body coming up to almost pressing against her before he spoke again. “Can you not run off like that again?”

“Can you stop letting women flirt with you?” She snarked still not turning to face the man, instead setting her eyes on scanning the variety of candy for sale in the small shop.

“Here you go, miss.” The clerk smiled, bringing her the box of sweets and taking her partner’s card to ring up the bill.

“She wasn’t flirting!” Yunho protested, earning an eyeroll from his girlfriend who turned on her heel to face him, slipping a hand into his pocket to grab the spare cash before heading over to the tip jar.

“Here sir, have a wonderful day.” She yet again offered a sweet smile as she dropped the large wad of money into the tip jar and grabbed the card after the transaction was completed. She turned to her lover who was watching her with a shocked face before yet again turning on her hell, only this time heading to the car instead.

“You sure do have your hands full with that one.” The clerk commented as he came to stand near Yunho to hand him back the large sum of money.

“Keep it, she knows a safe place when she sees one. She wouldn’t have left that money if she didn’t see value in your shop.” Yunho sighed, making a mental note of the shop’s name so he knew where to check next time she ran off.

“A sweet face and fierce personality is a dangerous combination.” the clerk said, placing a wrinkled hand onto Yunho’s shoulder with a wry smile.

“Yea.. Wish me luck.” Yunho said with an airy chuckle at the end before walking to his car quickly to not leave his lover waiting. Heading to his sleak black car he climbed into the driver side, instead of starting the car though he looked over at her with exasperated eyes. 

She was eating a donut while scrolling through her phone, not bothering to clean up the sprinkled powdered sugar all over the seat of the car. 

“Can we talk about this please?” He sighed, watching her sip on her drink she had gotten on their date to wash down the donut. 

“She was flirting with you.”

“No she wasn’t.”

“She literally touched your hair.”

“I had food in it because SOMEONE threw a piece of bread at me.”

“She literally called me immature.”

“Well you’re acting like it right now love.”

“She bad mouthed your girlfriend and you’re agreeing with her?”

“You didn’t even give me a chance to say anything before you took off.”

“You smiled at the comment.”

“Sarcastically. I was about to ask for a new waiter, can you calm down and stop stress eating now. I know you’re feeling bad and that you think you’re overreacting, you’re not, your feelings are valid and how you handle those feelings is valid as well. I’m not upset, I just wanted you to hear what actually happened before you got too hurt by your own mind. I love you and everything about you, even how jealous you get.”

“So I dirtied your car up for nothing.” She said quietly looking up at him with watery eyes as guilt hit her. She had purposefully gone out of her way to break his no eating in his car rule, to try and upset him. Only for him to be the perfect boyfriend he always is.

“What do you mean?” He asked confusedly, tilting his head slightly, almost resembling a puppy.

“You don’t like people eating in your car, that’s why I got the messy donuts to get you as upset as I was. It’s petty and ridiculous. I'm sorry. I’ll clean it the second we get home.” She rushed out an explanation, hurrying to put away the trash.

“Now hold on.” He said almost sounding offended as he stared at her incredulously. She froze in her actions before looking at him wide eyed. “That rule never applied to you, and it never will. And when we get home, you’re going to sit your pretty butt right there and I will carry you inside, we will have a nice warm bath and I’ll do your skin care and your night routine with you, then we will snuggled up in our warm bed and handle the mess tomorrow first thing in the morning. Let me show you how much I love my princess.” He grinned, starting the car and quickly taking off before she had the chance to protest. 

He’d give her the princess treatment whether she wanted it or not.

[sodaabaa]

to flee or not to flee, part three

anthony bridgerton x OC what happens when a charming and determined viscount courts someone whose worst fear is to marry a man like him?

tropes: damsel in distress, innocent and shy mc, slow burn,

tw: mentions of domestic abuse, angst, anxiety, slight misogyny/patriarchal concepts

masterlist

“Mr. Carrington, Miss Carrington, you have a visitor.” 

Annalise looked up from her book to her brother. 

“Who is it?” He asked.

“Lord Bridgerton, sir. Shall I send him in?”

Her brother only nodded. 

Annalise cleared her throat, sitting up straighter suddenly acutely aware of her appearance. She pulled at the scarf around her collar, ensuring it was properly secured before the viscount arrived. Her brother had confronted her rather harshly about Lord Bridgerton’s abrupt proposal, believing it was her who had exposed Thomas to the viscount. She swore on her life she did not. He refused to believe her. He stormed out of the house to relieve his stress, no doubt with drinks and women. It wasn’t until he came back home from the gentleman’s club where he overheard a few men talking about Lord Bridgerton’s inquiries about Thomas, that he believed it was not Annalise who revealed his treatment of her. Thomas admittedly did believe it was a fine bargain – no dowry and a hefty payment to rid himself of Annalise. He told her he would accept the proposal, should the viscount show a continued interest in Annalise. She was not sure if she should be relieved of her brother’s approval of the proposal. She still did not know what to make of Anthony Bridgerton.

As if on cue, there he was. His presence filled up the room instantly. Her skin prickled and her stomach twisted. No rational woman could deny his beauty, like that of a greek statue with his chiseled jaw, deep brown eyes with his brow always set in a furrow and his lips…She cleared her throat, snapping herself out of improper thoughts. She did not want to think of him as anything but another man, another cage – rationality be damned. 

“Good day, to the both of you.” He spoke, his voice booming through the rather small drawing room. 

“Good day. What brings you here, Lord Bridgerton?” Her brother said.

“I would like to extend an invitation to the two of you to join my family and I on our trip to Aubrey Hall, our country estate.” He glanced at Annalise, noticing her silence since he arrived. 

“That is generous of you, what has spurred such a decision?” Thomas asked.

“I thought it may be a welcome respite from the ton. And, of course, you and Miss Carrington would get the chance to see the grounds that she may become viscountess of.” He replied diplomatically. 

Thomas smiled, pleased that Anthony wanted to continue his courtship of Annalise. 

“Well,” Thomas clapped, “in that case, I believe it would be a welcome respite. Annalise, go prepare your bags for the trip.” 

Annalise stood, curtsied to the viscount and her brother, avoiding any and all eye contact with the former.

“I am pleased you will be accompanying us.” Lord Bridgerton said, his eyes trained on Annalise. 

She looked at him through her lashes, “thank you for thinking of us, my lord.” And with that, she slipped out of the room which grew hotter with every passing moment. 

A trip to his estate? Annalise did not know what would result from this trip but she hardly thought it could be anything good. 

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The town of Mayfair passed by in a blur as Annalise looked out the carriage. Brick townhouses, giggling groups of ladies, the booming laughter of men all sped by. Annalise felt as though she were being shipped off to a butcher. Thomas sat across from her, muttering to himself and checking off items on one of his many lists that helped him keep track of the estate's affairs and finances.

There’d be no fighting it now she thought to herself. She had been invited by the Bridgerton family to spend a week at Aubrey Hall. The looks of envy and wonder could barely be held back when she stepped out of her home this morning. She was now all but betrothed to the viscount. She supposed the week couldn’t be all that bad, after all, there’d be a plethora of people to keep her company. The viscount’s seven siblings would be accompanying them and nearly half of them were girls. Anthony had made them seem charming and mischievous in their own right. Perhaps she may have a pleasant time if she could spend most of it with the Bridgerton siblings as opposed to the viscount himself. 

The sun had now reached its peak and their journey nearly halved since they left early this morning after her viscount’s visit. Her leg began bouncing, her hands growing restless. No amount of fiddling with lace or threads could calm her nerves. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to steady herself. 

“Annalise! Calm yourself. You mustn’t let the Bridgertons see you in such a state of disarray. Have I taught you nothing, girl?” He barked.

She released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “Apologies, brother.” 

Annalise would simply have to wait until she had a moment alone to indulge her emotions.

As she stepped out of the carriage, assisted by her brother, she took in the massive home before her. The building itself was made of gray brick, with four large roman columns at the center, bookended with large domed roofs on either side. A breath caught in Annalise’s throat as she marveled at the stately building. Should she choose to accept Lord Bridgerton’s proposal – which seemed imminent – this would be her home. Miles away from her brother and assuming the viscount’s duties would keep him busy much of the day, she’d have this home all to herself. With no one to fear. She had to admit, perhaps this could be a suitable arrangement for her. 

“You are a sight for sore eyes, Miss Carrington” the viscount appeared before her suddenly, before she had the chance to collect her thoughts and steady herself. She curtsied, stumbling on the way up, still off balance from his sudden appearance. He had quite the presence, always abrupt, sudden. Leaving just as fast as he appeared and leaving her dumbfounded quite often. He reached out an arm, placing it on her elbow gently to steady her.

“Thank you, my lord. I admit, I am not well acquainted with lengthy carriage rides.” 

“No matter, I am sure you will grow accustomed as you journey more frequently” he said brows raised, alluding to his assumption of her acceptance.

“Ah! You must be Annalise, I am so delighted to finally meet you, my dear” a sweet, round faced woman pushed herself past Anthony and towards Annalise, immediately grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her in for a hug. Annalise’s eyes widened and her lips parted but before she could say anything, another woman with chestnut brown hair matching the viscount’s sauntered up to the group.

“The Miss Carrington! I must know all the details on your first dance with Anthony. Did you abandon him because he is a bore? Or did he pester you with his list of interview questions he believes will find him the perfect wife?” 

“Eloise! That is hardly an appropriate way to introduce Miss Carrington to this family. Have you no decorum?” Anthony huffed, grabbing the girl’s arm and moving her out of the way.

“Please excuse my sister, she can be quite… spirited, at times.” 

As if the crowd could not get bigger, two men, one with the same chestnut brown hair while the other had unruly curls in a much darker shade, approached them.

The darker haired one spoke first, his eyebrows raised in amusement, “well isn’t this quite the party. If you are to marry into this family, shall I suggest drinking a few lemonades before arriving at a function in which the entire family will be in attendance?” 

“Benedict!” The other said, to which the dark haired one – Benedict – simply shrugged.

Annalise could do nothing but stare at the commotion, a plethora of emotions overwhelming her all at once. Before anyone else could join in, Anthony cleared his throat and motioned for his family to give Annalise space.

“I think, the Carringtons would appreciate some quiet and the chance to settle in before you lot begin your chatter. Please, excuse their excitement” Anthony said pointedly. He offered a hand to Annalise and pulled her away from the bustling family, her brother following closely behind. Annalise sighed, secretly relieved at his intervention. 

“Your family is quite the unruly bunch, Lord Bridgerton. A bit of discipline would not hurt” Thomas said, looking back at the family in judgment. 

Annalise fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Discipline” was what Thomas called his fits of rage, hiding behind pretenses of doing what he thought was best for Annalise. “Shaping” her into a woman of manners and decorum. Instead, it made her flighty, anxious, and quiet when she had once been a curious and talkative young girl. Like a bird meant for flight having its wings cut, leaving nothing more but a decoration.

Annalise felt Anthony’s arm stiffen in response to her brother’s suggestion. 

“I do not agree, Mr. Carrington. My family is one of the ton’s most respected and it was not discipline that made it so, but my parents’ upbringing of their children.”

“I only mean to say that a man’s duty-”

“A man’s duty is to protect those under his care.” 

Thomas went quiet behind them.

As they made their way inside, Annalise looked up and once again, marveled at the sight of the grand home. 

“You have a beautiful home, Lord Bridgerton” she spoke softly, hoping to change the topic of conversation before things became heated between the two men.

“Thank you, I do hope you find your stay enjoyable despite the introduction you just had” he smiled.

“Your family is charming, my lord. I do think they were simply excited at the prospect of having a guest” she said graciously. Although overwhelmed by the boisterous family, the fondness they had with one another was not lost on her. 

“I’m glad you think so,” Anthony smiled. 

Behind them, Thomas cleared his throat to signal his presence.

“Right. Mr. Carrington, your room will be up the stairs, down the hall to the left and Miss Carrington, yours will be next to Eloise’s on the right side of the hall upstairs. I have sent for your luggage and it will be brought over as soon as everyone makes their way in” the viscount explained. With that, he took off, leaving Annalise and her brother to find their rooms no doubt to reel in his family and perhaps give them a scolding or two. 

After Annalise found her room, she shut the door with an exhale. She took in the room, various shades of blue and gray decorated the room. In the center was a bed with dozens of plush pillows. Annalise all but threw herself at the welcoming sight, landing in the middle of the carefully arranged pillows. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths to steady herself. She was not used to this much attention, she wished she could simply disappear into the wall. This week would require all of her strength. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Brother, is Miss Carrington to be our new sister?” The youngest of the Bridgerton clan, Hyacinth, wondered aloud. 

“Hyacinth!” Their mother called out, reprimanding the young girl’s forward question. 

“Sister in law, Hyacinth. That depends entirely on Miss Carrington herself. Perhaps you might convince her.” Anthony replied, the corners of his mouth twist upwards, giving his youngest sister a wink. He spoke to his sister with such fondness, it made Annalise’s chest tighten. 

Annalise took a moment to survey the dining hall to distract herself from her melancholy. The candles placed throughout the table gently lit the room, making the hall feel smaller than it was, more intimate. Porcelain china with delicate floral patterns was placed perfectly in front of each setting. As her eyes made their way around the room, her eyes landed on the viscount. Annalise had not given herself a chance to properly look at the viscount this evening. He sat at the head of the table while his mother sat opposite of him. Was he used to this? Being the head of his household? Or did he find it troublesome? He took the mantle on quite early in life, did he ever get used to it? To her, it seemed he made a perfect viscount. His siblings adored him, his mother trusted him to make wise decisions. Would his wife do the same? Could Annalise find herself trusting the viscount, loving him?

“Of course, Annalise would be honored to join your family, Lord Bridgerton. What more could a young woman ask for?” Thomas said, looking to Annalise for confirmation.

“Yes, of course. It has been a privilege to be courted by Lord Bridgerton, he is too kind” she said, trying her best to remain as vague as she could for as long as she could. Anthony only nodded, his lips set in a tight smile. Not the answer he was hoping for, she assumed.

“Do you read, Miss Carrington?” One of the Bridgerton sisters asked, Eloise, she recalled.

“I do, in fact. Reading takes up a great deal of my time – there’s always some topic that plagues my mind for weeks at a time until I grow tired of it and find the next.” 

Eloise smiled at her response, she opened her mouth to say something but before she could she was interrupted by Anthony.

“Is your mind still occupied with the Renaissance, or have you found your latest obsession, Miss Carrington?” 

She turned back to the viscount, “I am still very much occupied, I have yet to find a chance to discover any new books, my lord.” 

“We have a very big – and very unused library, Miss Carrington, I am certain you may be able to find something of interest there” he replied.

“I’d be more than happy to escort you after dinner.”

Annalise hesitated. She did not want to spend any time alone with the viscount.

“Perhaps another day, I’m sure you are tired from your travels, my lord. Thank you.”

Before he could reply, Annalise turned to the viscount’s mother and his siblings, “enough about me, tell me about yourselves. What is it you all do in your spare time? It must be a great deal of fun to have such a large family.” 

“Fun is one way to put it, I suppose,” Benedict said dryly.

The eldest of the Bridgerton sisters was the only one to provide a proper answer, “well let’s see, Benedict here is a budding artist. Collin has been traveling lately. Eloise is…well, Eloise. Francesca plays the pianoforte– 

“Rather exceptionally, I might add” Anthony cut in.

“Yes, she is quite good. Hyacinth and Gregory are typically occupied with their studies.”  

“And you, your Grace?” Annalise asked.

“Oh, please call me Daphne and nothing more. I suppose much of my days are filled with being a wife and mother” she looked fondly at her husband, the Duke of Hastings, sitting across from her. He returned her affection, the entire night it seems he could barely keep his eyes off her. 

“Of course,” Annalise smiled at the couple. She marveled at the siblings. They each had the freedom to pursue their pleasures and what their hearts desired. They were quite the family, Annalise had to admit. Was this the viscount’s doing? He undoubtedly bore the brunt of the labor to allow his siblings such pursuits. Every passing moment that she spent with the Bridgertons chipped at her determination to not marry. Would she be capable of holding to her beliefs by the end of this week?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

After dinner, they all retired to their rooms – a break Annalise was much grateful for. She could not fathom how she could make it through this week if she could hardly get through one dinner. Perhaps a distraction is what she needed to pull through. The library she thought to herself. There was bound to be a book in there that could keep her grounded. The sun had set and everyone had gone to bed, she doubted there’d be anyone roaming the halls – and even so, she knew how to keep quiet and hide. 

Annalise slipped from her room, down the grand stairs in search of the library. The darkness blanketing the entirety of Aubrey Hall posed a challenge to her search but she persevered regardless until she was confronted with two large doors, one slightly ajar – inviting her in.

She creeped inside, peaking in to ensure no one else was present. Once she was satisfied that she was alone, she walked over to the nearest bookcase which held at least a dozen rows of books. Each row had been meticulously labeled with a category. History of the Americas, History of Great Britain, History of… this bookcase seemed to be dedicated to histories, Annalise skipped down to the next. 

“Miss Carrington?”

“Oh!” Annalise startled, dropping the book she had picked out.

Anthony came forward, quickly retrieving the book that had fallen from her hands. He was not wearing his usual formal attire, instead donning a simple white shirt and trousers, his sleeves rolled to his elbow. The shirt was untied, leaving much of his chest exposed. Annalise felt her cheeks warm, looking away from the viscount.

“My apologies, I did not mean to startle you” he said.

“No, my lord. I apologize, I should not be here at this hour” she replied, gaze trained on the patterned wood floor below her.

“Actually I expected you’d be here. I did not think you capable of keeping yourself from the library. A most tempting place, is it not?” A teasing smile on his lips. When Annalise failed to respond, Anthony scanned the book she had picked out – which he still had not returned to her.

“Medicinal Plants of the Orient? Was this meant to be a sleep aid?” He laughed.

She tried to hold back her smile. This only furthered the viscount’s own smile.

“You needn’t hold back on my account,” he said.

“Is this how you’ve managed to procure the reputation that follows you?” She asked, deflecting the subject of conversation from her to the viscount.

“I do not know what you mean, Miss Carrington. I am simply conversing” he said, refusing to let up that damned smile.

“Every girl I have met at the ton would do horrendous things for the opportunity to simply dance with you, nevermind courting them entirely. Not to mention your wellknown status of being a…” she trailed off. She did not think it appropriate to call him a rake to his face. 

“A what, Miss Carrington?” He teased.

She only looked up through her lashes, refusing to indulge him.

“I promise you, Miss Carrington, my days of rake-hood are far behind me. I have but one woman I intend to be with for the rest of my days” his tone no longer one of teasing.

Annalise held his gaze, unsure of what to say. 

“Annalise. I know you are afraid but trust that no harm would come to you from me. My father raised me to be a man with honor, a gentleman. Believe me, I have tolerated raising those hooligans you met this evening and I never, not once, raised my hand at them. Though they test me, I could never dream of harming someone under my care be it my siblings, my children, or my wife. Please, can you find it in your heart to trust me?” He had taken his hands in hers, his eyes in anticipation of her answer. 

“I do not wish to make decisions with my heart, my lord” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“And that is most sensible indeed” he said, his eyes trained on her face. 

He stepped forward. His breath tickled her face when he spoke, gentle as a feather,  “However, the heart is akin to a light, is it not Miss Carrington? It provides the guidance one needs in order to make your way out of the darkness.” 

Her chest rose, holding her breath.

“What if, Lord Bridgerton, one’s light were shattered and unable to provide guidance through the dark? 

“Then I would travel the night skies and snatch the stars to replace your shattered lights if that's what it takes. Annalise, I swear to you,” his gently lifted her chin to meet his eyes, “your heart is safe with me, shattered pieces and all.”

She could not breathe. Frozen in place and unsure of how to respond. She stared into his eyes, how could they be insincere with such pleading? Tears welled in her own eyes – she was at a crossroads, overwhelmed by the storm of questions in her mind. 

“Annalise, I will not hurt you” each word punctuated with intention as if he thought the more emphasis he put, the more convincing it would be to her. Was there anything she could do at this point? Any amount of delaying or refusing that would save her from her fate? Perhaps there was…

“Lord Bridgerton, may I give you the answer to your question by the week’s end?” She whispered.

That night once she had been escorted back to her chambers, Annalise conjured up a plan. The viscount had seven siblings and she would spend the remainder of the week with his family here at Aubrey Hall. She could use the week to get to know the viscount through his siblings. Perhaps, there would be a flaw, secret addiction, a bad habit – something that might give Annalise reason to deny the viscount’s proposal. Annalise would spend a day with each sibling and by the week’s end, there had to be something that might save her.

[urprettylittlething]

Hiii! Could I ask for a scenario about Cursed Kitty AU? Our little kitty is in her eating season and wants it so much... One morning, she wakes Gojo (or both of them) up with a blowjob... Thanks in advance~ I love this au! ^^

Thank you so much for this request, I truly apologise that it's taken me so long to get around to it but its finally here! I hope its okay <3 I kept it open so you can imagine either Gojo or Geto being the ones to receive the special treatment :)

Desperation

≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x CursedKitty! Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - thank you so much for all the love coming in on my recent post, it means the world <3 please enjoy this lovely little smutty drabble requested, I don't know if its my best work, I'm feeling a little rusty, but please enjoy nonetheless, let me know your thoughts :) I really appreciate and value what you guys think <33 I love you all so much <3 as always let me know of any errors or missed warnings, I try my best but sometimes I miss things :,)

summary - Kitty is too desperate to wait, so she takes things (a cock) into her own hands.

warnings - Yandere but it's practically non-existent here, could be seen as dubcon since they haven't spoken about it beforehand, but it is very well received and they would 100% want it again, smut ofc, hand job, mixed in with some blowjob action, she's also trying to hump the bed so there's that

genre - Drabble

word count - 450

~spelling and grammar checked~

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Snuggling deeper into the warmth that was surrounding her, Kitty searched desperately for any kind of relief. Her stomach muscles were tense, cramping up with every passing second since she had woken up.

She tries desperately to get back to sleep but the pulsating ache between her legs forbids it. No amount of rubbing or humping is fixing this little issue of hers. Even her whimpering and moaning hasn’t woken the two sorcerers sleeping either side of her.

What she noticed though, between all her fidgeting, was something particularly hard between the pair's legs. She could feel the throbbing anytime she brushed up against them, the warmth seeping through her skin. It’s something she is currently craving, yearning for, and since none of them have bothered to wake up and help her, she’s decided to take it for herself.

Shuffling down under the covers, Kitty paws at the first pair of legs she gets to. Nuzzling next to the warmth between the legs she turns her head and starts to suckle on the hard mass through his boxers.

Her hands almost frantically try to tug down the underwear he’s wearing, practically drooling at the sight of his cock being revealed to her.

She thinks that it looks heavy, almost bouncing when she pulls the boxers fully away. The flushed tip was almost dripping with liquid from where she’d been rubbing all over it.

Her ears flutter as her body does a full shiver, licking from base to tip she envelops the head into her mouth, sucking and licking as she does.

Her thighs rub and squeeze together as she moans around the cock in her mouth. Her tail curled and uncurling in delight.

Both of her hands come up, wrapping around his cock as best as they can and start pumping. She knows, has been taught, by the two of them that when she does this she can get the delicious milk they provide just for her. And she wants it bad.

So she lays there, sucking, licking, pumping away at his cock, practically humping the bed in her throes of pleasure. Startled nearly half to death when a hand comes down on the top of her head. Kneading deeply into the base of her fluttering ears and pushing her further down his cock every so slightly.

“Don’t stop now Kitty, come on, keep going.” A deep voice calls out announcing his awareness. Her eyes roll back, now working in tandem for what she so desperately wants.

Between the low grunts and moans she can just about make out a second voice, rumbling deep in his chest as laughter, before the sheets get pulled away.

“…Such a desperate little Kitty.”

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

[steventhusiast]

STWG daily prompt 9/9/23

prompt: "i'm not jealous"

characters/pairing(s): steddie, robin + eddie

-

Eddie's been curiously watching all the post-disaster reunions from where he leans against the hood of Steve's car. He recognises most of the people that got out of the Pizza van, the Byers kids and Mike, but he doesn't recognise the other two. Robin's next to him, quietly watching as well.

He's never felt more like an outsider than he does now that the near-apocalypse is over. Or not over- paused, he should say.

"Jonathan! I'm so glad to see you, man." Steve says as he walks over to the small group, pure relief on his face.

The two share an easy hug, and Eddie fights to keep his expression neutral as he watches them. He knows he has no claim over Steve, no right to any sort of possessiveness. But... His eyes flicker down to the small of Steve's back where he can see Jonathan's hands... He can't help himself.

Ugh. Another pathetic crush on a probably-straight boy.

He hears a laugh from next to him and feels an elbow jut into his ribs. He redirects his gaze to Robin, who is openly laughing at him.

"What?" He frowns.

"You know, if you glare hard enough they might just stop hugging." She says through the giggles, and Eddie feels his cheeks flush.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away in an attempt to prove his nonchalance, but that only means he's looking at them again. Jonathan's chin is hooked over Steve's shoulder. Hm. Very long hug for two bros being dudes.

"So your resting face is just one of painful jealousy?" Robin checks, and when Eddie looks back at her again she's smirking at him.

He practically squawks as he leans away from her and shakes his head. He's pretty sure Robin's.. a fellow friend of Dorothy, but he can't help the way his heart starts hammering in his chest.

"What? I am not jealous. The hell would I even be jealous of?"

Robin shakes her head, and then nudges him with her elbow more gently this time and nods toward Steve and Jonathan. They're no longer hugging, and Steve's moved on to giving Will, Mike and the other younger kid the same treatment. He even hugs the other stranger with the same relief despite the lack of recognition on his face at the sight of him.

"That's just how we hug each other. Trauma bonds are like nothing else."

Eddie's cheeks flush again as he realises Robin's not just making fun of him but trying to reassure him.

"You tryna convince me I got a chance, Buckley?"

She meets his gaze and holds it for a second.

"I'm just saying, don't make baseless assumptions about Steve Harrington. He's always gonna surprise you."

And with that, she pushes herself off the car to join in on the reunions.

[animasolaoriginal]

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️SEVEN

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN

He's not a patient man, but he's trying his best, giving her some well-deserved cuddles after testing her limits a little too roughly. But in the end, he can't help himself. She's too perfect, perfect enough to take her once again.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Aftercare! Fingering. Vaginal sex. Oral sex. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 5.1k

SIX 🟥 SEVEN 🟥 EIGHT

He may have overdone it a little.

The girl is this pliant thing in his arms as he carries her into the bathroom, covered in spit and cum and tears, limbs too weak to support herself, too far gone to protest anymore, eyes hooded and unfocused.

He hasn't planned to treat her like that. Well, he has wanted to fuck her ass, that's been on his mind since the last time he's been in there, but the throat fucking afterwards happened on a whim. She's looked so fucked out, so defeated and willing, so pretty, he just wanted to see what she was capable of. He may have overdone it. But once he's felt the tight grip of her throat, he's been a goner.

And she'll live. No harm done. He's treated women way worse before. She'll adjust. She has to. She'll understand that eventually.

He carefully sits her down on the vanity and grabs a wash cloth, pours water on it and starts to wipe at her soiled face. It's a strange, intimate thing to clean her like this, he usually expects his whores to clean themselves or stay dirty for all he cares. But she's different. And not a whore, she's something else he cannot name yet. Innocent, pure, even after everything he's done to her. She needs to be clean.

She's barely present when he moves the cloth over her cheek, just sits there, motionless, blinks from time to time, but there's no other movement. Maybe she's in shock. Surprised and disturbed by his treatment. Overwhelmed by what he expects of her. Lost in her own mind. Poor thing.

Once her face is clean, no more traces of spit or cum or tears, he leans down and presses his lips to her cheek, then scoops her up in his arms again and walks to the living room. Her breaths are soft, barely there against his collarbone as he presses her to his chest. He sits down, positions her on his lap, holds her tightly. She winces when her butt is moved over his hard thigh, but keeps quiet right after, letting him settle her against him.

He exhales loudly, moves her hair. It's hard for him to just sit with her, let her come down from whatever is keeping her holed up in her head, let her come to terms with her new environment, her new life, her new role. He's not a patient man, but he knows that she needs it. The memory of asking her if she wanted this is clear in his mind, the innocent excitement in her eyes, how she said yes, having absolutely no idea what to expect, what he's capable of. It's almost as cute as her admission that she's had a crush on him.

Oh the poor, poor thing, letting silly little feelings cloud her better judgment.

For him, however, that has been the last puzzle piece falling into place. It's been an idea in the back of his head, for a while, and it had never worked out. But since she's stepped into his life, this sweet innocent girl, inexperienced, submissive, blinded by a childish infatuation, ready to be molded into something he wants her to be, he's known it'll work this time. She is perfect for this. Perfect to submit to him and him alone. And she'll learn to love it too, he's sure.

Right now she probably hates him, and he can't blame her. He's been a little unpredictable today. Asking her to cockwarm him (which has been quite the challenge for him too, an exercise in restraint, but no matter how he's felt about it, she's done a good job considering it has been her first time to do so), to rewarding her in a way she hasn't expected (having filled all her holes by now, he really can't decide which is his favorite, but luckily he doesn't have to decide, he can have them all, she is all his, to use and fill, use and fill, over and over again...), to testing her limits (and his, she sure has a way of bringing out the most primal urges in him, he's always had a high sex drive, but filling her up multiple times in a row is quite new to him). It's been an eventful morning.

He shifts slightly beneath her, coaxing a little hum out of her. His hand rubs along her back, soothingly, warm and heavy, and he feels her breathing deeper against him. But she's not asleep yet, no matter how worn out she may feel. His other hand finds her chin, gently pushing it up until he can see her hooded eyes, still a little unfocused, but when she meets his gaze, there's something else burning within them. Something like defiance, he can tell, and it brings a smirk to his lips.

He moves his finger over her jaw, carefully massaging it, and to his surprise the tension in her face lifts a little. She even bites her swollen lip. “Feels good, hm?” he whispers, applying light pressure to her strained jaw. “You've been such a good girl, holding my cock for so long,” he adds, looking at her with warm eyes. “Your little mouth felt so nice, you know that?”

His thumb moves along her bottom lip, gently nudges against it, slips higher, and maybe it's an instinct, maybe it's need, but she parts her lips and allows him to push it into her mouth. He's gentle, just presses it lightly onto her tongue, feels the wet warmth and soft texture. She watches him from under her lashes, while he pumps his thumb slowly in and out, still massaging her jaw with his fingers.

“Relax, it's okay.”

She does, closes her lips around his digit, even hollows her cheeks and sucks on it a little as she breathes deeper through her nose. He tilts his head down, nuzzles her cheek, then pulls his thumb out and presses his lips to hers. Leaning back, he smiles at her.

“Show me your little tongue,” he says, a whispered command, and she complies, blushing heavily as she hesitantly sticks her tongue out, pointed at first, then flat, and he smirks, leans in to close his lips around it, sucks on it, licks it softly. She winces slightly, but then her eyes flutter shut, and she lets out a soft mewl, her tongue moving against his, meeting his motions.

The kiss is soft but messy, his hand closes around her jaw, holds her in place, as he tastes the inside of her mouth, meets her tongue, feels her lips. She's squirming on his lap, her small hands moving against his chest, fingers clawing at the fabric of his shirt. She's slowly coming out of her shell. He shifts her on his thigh, makes her straddle him, and she lets him, his hands moving down her back to cup her rear, hold her, move her against him, kiss her deeper.

When they're both breathless, she's clinging to him, arms around his shoulders, forehead resting against his throat, her chest heaving. He rubs his hands along her sides, into the dip of her waist, over the swell of her hip, until they slip under the skirt of her dress and find her warm ass cheeks, fingers dipping between them. She lets out a little whimper, but he kisses the top of her head, shushing her.

“I don't want to hurt you, you know that, right?” he whispers when she leans her cheek on his shoulder and looks up at him, lips a little bit more swollen than before, cheeks flushed, eyes wandering over his face. “But,” he continues, kneading her rear softly, “you make me so goddamn crazy, it's really hard to hold myself back...”

She blinks at him, chewing on her lip. He moves his hands back up until he cups her face, pulling her closer to him, his eyes boring into hers. His fingers dig into her hair, a little hoarse gasp escapes her. Leaning down, he brushes his nose against hers.

“And you said you wanted this,” he says gravelly. “You wanted me to do these things to you... remember?”

She leans against his hands, tries to move back. He lets her, fingers gliding down her neck, resting on her shoulders as he watches her closely. Her lips move, but no sound comes out. Her tongue darts out, wets her lips, she takes a deep breath, her hand closing around her throat. “N-not... like... that,” she manages to croak out, her voice still raw, a breathy, hoarse whisper.

“No?” he replies, raising his eyebrows. “Did you expect me to make love to you under the covers, in the dark? Boring vanilla sex, in and out and done?” He laughs darkly, shakes his head. “Sweetheart, that's not what I do, and I thought you knew that...”

She furrows her eyebrows, a little pout to her full lips. “Aw, baby girl,” he coos, cupping her face. “Look at you. So fucking cute!” He kisses her small nose, smirking as he leans back and sees her averting her eyes, cheeks even redder than before.

“Be honest,” he then starts, and she yelps breathlessly when his hands quickly move down to grab her waist to shift her on his thighs, putting her sideways again, one hand on her lower back, the other heavy on her legs, spanning over both of her thighs as he holds her. “If I'd tell you how much I want to fuck you, right here on this couch, pressed into the cushions, or bent over the side or the back, your cute little cunt on display or your ass in the air, would you not imagine it too? Would you not be completely soaked by the thought alone?”

He watches her closely as he speaks, his hand slowly prying her legs apart, and when he's done, his fingers slip between her thighs, right against the thin fabric of her thong. A smile grows on his lips as he tilts his head.

“Yeah, that's what I thought,” he whispers, nuzzling his nose against her cheek as she turns her head away in embarrassment. “You're wet, baby, wet for all the vile things I wanna do to you...” She grabs his wrist, but he keeps his hand between her legs, pushing her damp panties between her folds, rubbing up and down. “Wet for me...” She squirms against him, quiet whimpers falling from her lips. “Don't fight it, it's okay. I want you to be wet for me, all the time, it tells me you're enjoying this...”

She hides her face in the crook of his neck, mewling quietly. He holds her side, pulling her against him as he nudges her legs further apart and slips his finger under her thong, dipping into her slick. Shushing her, he rocks her gently on his lap before he slips his fingertip into her dripping pussy, humming in approval at how well she takes him.

“Does it still hurt?” he whispers softly.

She mumbles something against his neck.

“Speak up.”

“N-no,” she mutters a little louder. “F-feels... g-good...”

“Yeah?” he says with a smirk, pumping his finger deeper, massaging her squishy flesh. “Feels good, huh?”

She nods against him, her stomach fluttering, thighs twitching slightly. He continues to rub her insides, slowly adds another finger, keeps the slow and steady pace. Her breaths are warm against his skin, rapid little huffs mixed with cute little cooing sounds. He bites his lip, forces himself not to move faster, not to plunge his fingers deeper, not to add another one or another.

Ugh. To have his whole hand in her tight little cunt, feeling every single clench against his fingertips, his knuckles, her entrance clamping around his wrist, pushing deep into her wet warmth, stretching her, hearing her whines and cries, seeing her tears... His cock twitches angrily against his pants. Fuck.

He leans his head back against the couch, stares at the ceiling, keeps fingering her slow and easy, two fingers, not more, in and out, gentle, soft, carefully. What has she done to him?

Her moans are quiet in his ear, barely there, but they make him move his fingers a little faster, a little deeper, her wetness squelching around them. He can feel the plug pressing against her soft walls from the other side, and she must feel it too with how she twitches against him. His own breaths are rougher, his heart pounding in his chest, his blood pumping into his cock. He turns his hand, adjusts the angle, keeps pumping, fingertips rubbing against her clenching muscles, and when she twitches a little more, he smirks, curling his fingers, pressing hard against her g-spot.

Her wail is hoarse, but louder than he's expected. Her hands grab at him, she squirms on his lap, gasping, whimpering, legs kicking, shoulders shaking. He watches her, head arching back, neck exposed, lips parted, mouth opening wider, eyes rolling back. He can feel her cunt clamping down on his fingers. His other hand grips her waist, holds her in place, as he curls his fingers into a claw and pushes in and out fast, always bullying that special spot, his thumb pushing against her clit with every deep plunge.

“Come for me, darling,” he whispers gravelly.

She cries out, struggling against him, hips bucking into his hand, and when she comes, she presses her thighs together hard, squeezing his hand, body curving and convulsing in sheer ecstasy. He stills his fingers, feels her muscles contracting around them, her wetness coating his skin, seeping out of her, she may even have squirted, but she's clamped her legs together before he could have seen it. Pity. He'll have to try to see that again, another time.

She's breathing heavily, collapsing against him, forehead pressed to his collarbone, hands clawed into his shirt, a little bundle of twitching limbs. “Good girl,” he coos, kissing the top of her head. She hums in response, mumbling something else he can't quite understand. “What was that, baby?”

She inhales sharply, moving her head, chin leaning against his clavicle as she looks up at him, red spots blooming on her cheeks. “Thank you,” she croaks hoarsely, a shy smile on her trembling lips.

He stares down at her, unable to resist smiling back. His cock twitches. He slowly pulls his fingers free from her clenching cunt, nudging her legs. She opens them reluctantly, blushing harder when she turns her head to look down. His hand is completely drenched, just like his pants, her wetness seeping through the fabric onto his thighs. “You made quite the mess, huh?” he says with a smirk.

An embarrassed whimper escapes her. “M'sorry,” she mumbles, burying her face back against his shoulder as she squirms on his leg.

“It's okay, you know what to do, right?” he replies, holding his wet hand up to inspect it, spreading his fingers, watching the thick strands of her cum connecting them.

His other hand moves up her back until he grips her nape, pulling her back so she looks at him. When she does, he brings his wet fingers to her lips, feeling his stomach tightening even more when she gingerly puts her small hands around his wrist and leans in, tongue extended, before she licks along his fingertip, then slowly sucks his digits into her mouth.

A groan escapes him. She looks up at him as she sucks on his fingers, his jaw clenching at the sight. The face of an angel, full lips strained around his knuckles, an innocent blush on her hollowing cheeks, but there's a fire in her eyes, a temptress, something that might ruin him completely. He breathes loudly through his nose. “You're so fucking beautiful,” he mutters through gritted teeth, a low thrum in the air, mirroring the throbbing of his cock.

Her tongue flicks around his fingers, slips between them, before she leans back and releases them with a wet popping sound, licking her lips before a shy smile grazes them. His hand, coated in her saliva, slips into her hair, grabs her face and pulls her up at the same time as he leans in, capturing her mouth for a searing kiss full of fervor. He's desperate to taste her, still fighting the urge to throw her onto her back or stomach and rail her with abandon.

Instead he plunges his tongue into her mouth, a little surprised just how hungry and passionate she responds to his motions. She wants this. She might fight the sensations, fight him, cry and whine and wail, but she's wet for him. She fucking wants this too. And the restraint is slipping...

One hand on her face, the other on her nape, he tilts her backwards, lips still connected, until she's lying beneath him. She's not even squirming when he adjusts on top of her, braced on his elbows, knee pressing between her legs, hovering over her, breathing harder through his nose. Her hands grip the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He's ready to devour her, his kiss nothing short of animalistic, rough, urgent. She mewls into his mouth, meets his tongue, his lips, his whole frame above her with a need that radiates warm and wet against his knee pressing hard into her sex.

“I know you're sore,” he groans against her, hands digging into her hair, hot breaths mingling. “But I gotta fuck you... right now...”

She looks at him, breathing hard, a glint of panic in her big eyes. He doesn't care. Kissing her cheek, he leans back, moves her legs around his waist as he kneels between them. Her dress is pushed up, balled between his fists as he takes deep, steadying breaths, staring down at her small shaking body in front of him, holding back, trying to, but then he just can't.

With gritted teeth and a loud grunt, he rips the dress from bottom to top, she yelps hoarsely, the fabric tears, until it's torn in half, and he wrestles it out from under her and throws it across the room. The sight of her small tits quivering, her chest heaving, nipples already erect, makes him growl.

His hands roam up her torso, so big on her small body, close around those soft mounds, knead them, rub them, while she mewls quietly, a mixture of shock and anticipation on her pretty face. He keeps groping her with one hand, while the other slips lower and pushes her thong aside; not to rip it as well is almost impossible, but somehow he manages it.

His head is fuzzy, throbbing with a desire that makes him almost blind. He opens his belt and his pants, pushes everything down with a shaking hand before he grabs his angrily throbbing erection and puts it straight against her entrance.

Her whimper causes him to look up, her panicked expression squeezes his heart – and his cock. He leans closer, hand moving from her breasts to her face, caressing it gently. “Shh, it'll be okay,” he rasps. “Be a good girl for me, yeah?”

She shivers, inhaling sharply, but when she nods, he smiles at her, kisses her quivering lips and leans back abruptly, his hand slipping down to her dripping cunt, palm rubbing over her folds before he grips his cock and lathers it in her wetness.

The tension in his stomach is painful. Without prolonging it any further, he prods his tip into her slick, nudges it into her inch by hard inch, ignoring her quiet wails. His grunt is loud and low when he slips in fully, savoring the way she grips him so perfectly.

His hands are on her waist, his eyes on her flushed face, contorted in fear and discomfort. He rolls his hips a few times, slow and steady, but his restraint is non-existent at that point. With a groan and a squeak from her, he lies down on top of her, braced on his forearms, body pinning her down, hands finding her face before he showers it with kisses.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he growls against her. “So tight and warm...”

She lets out an unsteady breath, almost a little whine, but then her hands snake around his waist and grip the fabric of his shirt. He holds her gaze, wide watering eyes staring up at him, as he starts to move his hips, every slow downwards motion pushing her deeper into the cushions of the couch, and the more he moves, the faster he gets, until he's bouncing them steadily up and down.

Each deep plunge makes her gasp and moan, or so he thinks, her voice is still just that croaking sound in the back of her throat that tumbles over her parted lips. He's clearly overdone it. As much as he likes to fuck her throat, deep and hard, he has to be more careful in the future. Hearing her soft noises is something he doesn't want to miss.

He leans down and puts his mouth to hers, a messy kiss while he pounds into her tight heat, her walls clenching around him, squeezing his cock, wet squelches mixing with the squeak of the couch and her soundless little puffs of air. His own sounds are low groans, almost primal growls, predatory noises building inside him as he keeps ramming his hard cock into her soft pussy.

Her fingers claw at his shirt, fingernails digging deeper, her legs twitch, bouncing against his sides with every thrust, the heels of her feet hammering against his lower back. “Wrap your legs around me,” he grunts into her, giving her a moment of reprieve as he slows his motions. She does, crosses her feet, thighs pressed against his waist, holds onto him tightly, causing him to slip a little deeper. “Good... girl...” he huffs, watching her pupils dilate even further as she looks at him, this tiny thing beneath him, submitting to him so completely.

He leans back on his elbows, shoulders tight as he arches his back to move his pelvis against her, up and down, in and out, slowly picking up the pace again, his eyes on her every little twitch. Her face is flushed, mouth hanging open, eyes hooded and glistening, chest rising and falling fast, hair fanned out around her, exposing that delicious column of her neck – and the mark that's slowly fading on her skin. What has been a deep purple, has turned a brighter red mixed with edges of green and yellow, a slowly disappearing sign of his possession.

He can't have that.

So while he keeps snapping his hips against her, plunging deep and fast, he leans down to press his lips to her neck, kisses it, nibbles on it, sucks the blood to the surface, all along her pulse, rough pants against her skin as he marks her up all over again. He's quickly losing track of how many hickeys he's created, his vision starting to blur as his cock starts throbbing angrily inside her, his balls so tight it's almost painful.

To ease the tension, he moves his mouth to the soft flesh between her neck and her shoulder and sinks his teeth into it, biting down hard enough for her to squirm and cry out, her hands drumming on his back to make him stop. He does, licks up the blood that pools on the little indents of his teeth where he broke her skin. Sucking on it, it fills his mouth, turns him even more animalistic.

His thrusts are rapid now, his hips pistoning against her, cock plunging deep, definitely bruising her already battered cervix. She wails beneath him, hoarse little cries of pain, but her arms and legs are tight around him as she clings to him in an almost desperate fashion, and he can feel her hips trying to meet his fast movements. This spurs him on even more, and he shifts on his elbow, leans a little away, angles his pelvis, eyes on her face as he moves a hand between them, quickly finding her throbbing clit.

She gasps breathlessly, eyes widening, sweat clinging to her skin, hair stuck to her slick forehead. He stares at her, his own rapid breaths coming loud through his nose as he clenches his jaw, holding back as he focuses on her. “Come,” he orders. “Come for me...” he presses out through gritted teeth, rubbing her nub harder, rougher, while increasing the snaps of his hips, skin slapping against skin, her wetness squelching out loudly.

Her lips are quivering, breathless sounds slipping from them, a faint “Ah... ah... ah...” that echoes in his ears, and when he pinches her clit between his fingers, she manages a louder “Ahh!”, an almost scream that can't form in her hurting throat but still forces its way out of her. Her eyes roll back, shoulders pressing into the couch, spine curving into a beautiful arc, chest pushed upwards, hips bucking, legs tensing up, her fingernails like claws digging through his shirt into his back.

And her cunt clamps down on him hard, so hard it's his turn to groan louder. She comes with that delicious contortion of her body, a pliant little thing beneath him, convulsing uncontrollably, completely giving in to the pleasure that rushes through her. It's a sight that burns itself into the back of his mind.

He fucks her through her orgasm, panting heavily, hips slamming, cock being milked by the tight grip of her pussy, but before he can follow her over the edge, he leans back, grabs her waist, pushes himself to his knees, slips from her wet depths almost too easily. She's still caught in her release, slowly slumping back down into the cushions, limbs boneless, eyes closed, mouth open, unaware of him climbing over her until he's crouching over her chest, knees on either side of her shoulders.

“Open your mouth,” he grunts, barely able to speak with how hard his cock is throbbing in his tight fist. Her eyes flutter open, unfocused, quickly widening as she notices his new position. There's a deep furrow between her brows, fear in her glistening eyes, panic in the way her lips quiver. But she complies, slowly opens her mouth, tongue out flat, rapid little breaths through her nose as she stares up at him.

He doesn't wait long, can't wait any longer, as he pushes his hard cock into her mouth, holding it at the base, mindful not to push too deep (a restraint that surprises him despite the fuzzy state of his mind), his other hand closes around her throat, pushing her down as she starts to squirm, her hands clawing helplessly at his arms and knees, anywhere they can reach as he pumps his shaft hard and fast until he finally feels the sweet release.

He comes with a deep groan, head rolling back, his stomach tensing, balls twitching as he shoots his load onto her tongue and into her throat, and with how he holds her down, she can only take it, muffled whimpers ringing in his ears, turning into gurgles and panicked attempts to breathe. She's close to hyperventilating when he eventually pulls back, the last spurts of cum hitting her lips and cheeks, one shoots against her eyebrow and she flinches, squeezes her eyes shut, tears rolling down the sides of her face.

He leans back on his knees, cock slowly deflating in his hand as he moves his other hand from her throat to cover her mouth, holding it shut as he stares down at her. “Swallow,” he groans, panting above her like a wild animal.

Her eyelids flutter, her rapid breaths hitting his fingers, but eventually there's a quiet gulp, and another, her throat moving, jaw tensing, and when she stops, he takes his hand away and puts a finger to her bottom lip, prying her mouth open.

She presents her flat tongue to him, mouth wide and empty. A smile crawls onto his lips. “Good girl,” he whispers, wiping at her lips and her wet cheek. She looks at him then, breathing hard, face flushed, eyes burning with what he thought was defiance earlier. A little darkness behind the fear. He only smiles wider, moves his finger along her face and wipes up the glob of cum on her eyebrow before he holds it to her lips.

She may hate him again, or still, but she nevertheless follows the unspoken order and flicks her tongue around his fingertip, licking up his spend. He feeds her more until her face is more or less clean of him, and she takes every single drop. Then he shifts on her chest, hand flat on her cheek and leans down to give her an almost chaste kiss that seems to surprise her as she freezes before her hands close around his wrist, holding him there.

But he leans back, slips from her weak grip easily and climbs off her, putting his spent cock away while he watches her closely. Some would say she looks pathetic how she lies on the couch, a little beetle caught on its back, arms and legs splayed around her, hair messy, face wet, body covered in sweat and her own release, pussy glistening and still exposed, thong carelessly pushed aside. A used body. But for him it's an image he wants to see again and again.

His work. His marks on her. His claim inside her, swimming in her belly.

It would be an even better image if his cum would slowly drip from her clenching hole, but he can't do that until she's settled on birth control. That's the only restraint he's giving himself.

His eyes move down to the bejeweled base of the plug poking out of her ass. Something warm rushes through him. He sits down beside her, his hand running along her bare leg. She stiffens under his touch, dark eyes following his every move. His finger trails towards her wet cunt, but instead of touching it, he fixes her thong in front of it, rubbing softly over the fabric, gathering her wetness in it.

She flinches when he pokes at the plug – and yelps when he gives her inner thigh a playful slap. “Alright,” he says, inhaling deeply as he stands up, looking down at her. “Let's get cleaned up, hm?” Not waiting for any reply, he gathers her in his arms and carries her towards the bathroom.

Despite having just fed the beast within him, he can feel his cock twitching all over again as he thinks about what to do next to his pretty little plaything.

SIX 🟥 SEVEN 🟥 EIGHT

End notes: Can you even call this fluff in a story like this? Well, it was a little softer anyway, right? We all needed that after those last chapters...

Thanks for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

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