#they did something to me during wild life. something strange

[lexiputellas]

Not A Date from the broken vows series

The house was finally quiet.

Upstairs, Dolores was reading to Iris in a slow, gentle voice that drifted down the stairs. You couldn’t make out the words, but the cadence was soothing. Nora had stopped giggling ten minutes ago. You pictured her passed out on top of her comforter, tangled in glittery gift bags and torn wrapping paper, still wearing the paper crown someone had handed her during cake.

You stood barefoot in the kitchen, wine in hand, every bone in your body humming with exhaustion. That specific post-birthday-party fatigue: part joy, part chaos hangover, part identity crisis.

Then your phone buzzed on the counter.

@ elliemercer:

So. Did you survive?

You smiled. For the first time today, it wasn’t polite or forced. It just happened.

You:

Barely.

You took a sip of wine. Let it rest on your tongue.

Another buzz.

@ elliemercer:

Do you want to have a drink?

You choked. Actually choked. Set the glass down too hard and backed away from it like it had bitten you.

You stared at your phone for a full five seconds, frozen.

Oh my god.

You turned in a slow circle in the middle of the kitchen.

She saw me today. I had a ‘Happy Birthday’ sticker on my boobs. There was frosting on my sleeve.

You grabbed the fridge handle. Opened it. Closed it. Opened it again and stared at an expired yogurt like it might answer for your entire romantic past.

Okay. It’s just a drink. It’s not a date. Not a thing. Just… a casual beverage.

You paused. Voice quieter.

She’s not Alexia.

Your eyes flicked to the counter. You could still see the knife Alexia used to slice the cake earlier. Her bracelets had clinked against the countertop. She’d looked tired. Focused. Like this wasn’t strange. Like she hadn’t ripped your whole life apart just weeks ago, like cutting cake in your kitchen was still her place to be.

You shook your head, pressing your palms to your cheeks.

No. No, no, no. I haven’t shaved.

Wait. I��m lasered. That’s why I haven’t shaved. I’m smooth like a marble countertop. That’s right. I’m unstoppable.

Wait, why am I thinking that? I’m not having sex with her. Or—maybe I will? No. I’m not.

You:

Where?

The answer came quickly.

@ elliemercer:

I know a bar. I think you’d like it.

Your heart gave a single, measured thump. Not panic. Not fear. Something quieter. Older.

You:

Okay. I’ll meet you there. In 40 minutes?

@ elliemercer:

I’ll be waiting.

You stared at the screen like it might dissolve if you blinked, especially after she shared the name of the place.

Then you bolted into motion.

Upstairs, everything was soft and dark. You passed the girls rooms quietly, stepping lightly. Nora was already out cold, diagonally across her bed, clutching a new toy and drooling a little. You smiled, kissed the top of her head.

Then you crossed to Iris’s room. The door was half-open. A nightlight threw golden, animal-shaped shadows on the walls. Dolores sat on the edge of the bed, one hand resting gently on Iris’s back, a book closed on her lap. She looked up as you stepped in.

I’m heading out, you whispered.

Dolores gave you a slow once-over, taking in your bare feet, your tangled hair, the wild panic probably still leaking from your eyes. She didn’t ask. Just nodded.

You leaned down, kissed Iris’s forehead. Her breath was warm. She made a small, content sound and rolled onto her side.

Thank you, you whispered.

Dolores smiled softly. Have fun.

You slipped out of the room, pulled the door almost shut, and padded into your bedroom.

The closet lights flicked on as you stepped in. Everything looked too polished—too calm compared to the chaos in your chest.

You reached for the black high-waisted jeans. The ones that fit just right, hugging all the places that needed hugging. Then pulled on the soft black off-the-shoulder top, the one that made your collarbone look like something worth photographing.

You stood in front of the mirror and tried different earrings. Sprayed perfume—wrists, neck. Changed your bag twice before settling on the small black baguette slung effortlessly over your shoulder. Slipped on silver heels that gleamed even in the closet light.

You looked in the mirror one last time. Hair loose. Lips tinted. Skin flushed with adrenaline and maybe fear.

Okay. I look like someone who forgot how to flirt but accidentally put together a really hot outfit.

A notification buzzed, it’d the car you had requested. Marco. Black BMW.

You clicked off the lights and tiptoed downstairs, heels now clicking softly against the hardwood. You didn’t call out again. Just opened the door and stepped into the night.

The car was parked by the curb, windows slightly fogged, headlights dimmed. You crossed the lawn slowly, heart rattling in your ribs like it was trying to warn you.

You pulled the door open, slid in, gave the driver your best attempt at casual.

The city moved around you. Lights flashing past the windows. Perfume rising from your skin. Pulse steady but sharp.

You leaned your head back and whispered, not to the driver, not even to yourself really—just to the space.

What the hell am I doing?

[latehourletters]

he plays bass ― singer!reader x bobby skeetz (robert keating)

wc; 1.5k

summary; lollapalooza was wild. she’s playing the biggest show of her life with her band, and somewhere in the crowd, bobby’s watching.

warnings; language? idk, part of the dialogues are lyrics from songs! kinda fluff, mutual pining, reader and bobby are stupid.

Lollapalooza. Argentina.

This was, without a doubt, going to be the biggest gig she had played so far. The roar of the crowd was deafening—it vibrated in her chest and clouded her thoughts. Her fingers trembled from the nerves. Everything was happening both too fast and achingly slow: the rushed voices of the crew, the clipped directions, the controlled chaos of the backstage… Every second before stepping onto the stage stretched like it was in slow motion. Lena said something to her. She saw her lips move, but she couldn’t hear a thing.

“What?”

“We have to go.”

Already? She instinctively looked at her wrist, forgetting she wasn’t wearing a watch. Adjusting her in-ears, she slid the guitar strap over her shoulders. The hiss of the smoke machine made her flinch. That was the signal. “Lipstick Stain” flashed in huge letters on the main screen. The sun still hung over the venue, dyeing the sky in shades of orange and pink. The moment the five girls stepped onto the stage, the already-loud screams were eclipsed by the explosion of pure euphoria. It was wild.

“Hello, Argentina!” she greeted into the mic, while the others took their positions. “We��re Lipstick Stain, and we are so, so happy to be here!”

“Olé, olé olé oléeee, lipstick, lipstick!” the crowd chanted. She’d heard that before, at other festivals, but never imagined what it would feel like to hear it from the stage. Unreal. She smiled. Looked out into the crowd again. Took a deep breath. Adjusted the guitar.

“This is Cologne. Hope you like it… Am I…” she sang, letting the silence wrap around her, just like they always did in their live sets. “Seductive?” The audience exploded. YES! — ¡TE AMO! — YESSSS! “Call me back…” she murmured into the mic, as if thinking aloud, “in an hour” Ramona arpeggiated softly, building the moment. “If you wanna go back home… oh, babe, at least leave the scent of your cologne, leave the scent of your… cologne…” The full band kicked in. The drums were thunderous, and the bass thudded in her bones. “I’m not done yet… please, kiss my neck. Let’s go for another round, I hate what this song is about”

She glanced to the side. Four tall figures stood at the edge of the stage, watching. She recognized him instantly. Even behind sunglasses, she could already picture the electric blue of his eyes staring back at her. She never really knew when her feelings for Bobby began. That strange twisting in her stomach. Maybe it was during one of those shared gigs, somewhere between rushed soundchecks and hurried greetings, when he held her gaze a second longer than necessary. Or maybe it was during those early nights in tiny bars, when their bands shared the stage — and the smoke, the noise, the thrill — wrapped around them both. They barely knew each other. Just a handful of encounters — a few scattered words, an offhand comment, a “sick set” mumbled with a half-smile — nothing more than that. And she never fully understood why. Why him? Robert wasn’t particularly kind to her. He wasn’t one of those boys who looked at you like they actually saw you. Sometimes it felt like he didn’t notice her at all; other times, his responses were curt, empty, almost indifferent. And yet, there was something about him that quietly unraveled her.

“Am I attractive? Tell me, am I good enough? Lately, I’ve been on and off… I think I’ve hurt too much, my wrists are numb…” “Hurt too much, my limbs are numb…” Gia echoed from the back. “I’m not done yet… please, kiss my neck. Let’s go for another round, I hate what this song is about… You’re in my head… He’s in my head…"

She smirked to herself as the crowd screamed. She knew he was listening. Fucker. Ramona was setting the guitar on fire. The rest were layering harmonies, one over another.

“I’m so attractive, think I’m going to explode. Baby, I’ve been home alone, won’t you just drop your shit and pick up the phone?” “Drop your shit and pick up the phone?” Gia sang again. “I’m not done yet… please, kiss my neck. Let’s go for another round, I hate what this song is about”

The end was near—her favorite part to play live. Sweat dripped down her forehead. She was completely, breathlessly happy.

“Thank you.” She swapped guitars, switching to an acoustic. As she did, the crowd found new entertainment.

“¡MUCHA ROPA! ¡MUCHA ROPA! ¡MUCHA ROPA!”

She frowned, half-laughing, half-confused. Took a sip from her water bottle.

“¿Mucha ropa? What’s that?” she asked someone near the front, but no one gave a straight answer. Everyone was shouting at once.

“I don’t think you wanna know…” Lena commented into her mic, finishing a quick chat with someone on the crew.

“C’mon, tell me,” she teased, tuning a string while looking at her.

“Too much clothes.”

“You fuckers…” she laughed. “Um… te amo” she added, just as she’d rehearsed.

The world from up there was loud. Everything pulsed.

“Uh, the next song is new.” She waited for the noise to quiet down, though she could barely hear herself either. “So, yeah, this is kinda risky… You guys know how bass players never get as much love as the rest of the band, right?”

Lena exaggerated a nod beside her.

“The next one is dedicated to all the bassists in the world… and um, my hate-love for them. This is ‘He Plays Bass’, and it’s totally not about a specific bassist. At all.”

No one had time to react. She was already strumming. Lena jumped in immediately, laying down the groove with her bass.

“Hey… won’t you call me back? ‘Cause I’ve been waiting for a text back… it huuuurts my brain, this lad…” she sighed, grinning, “who plays bass”

Roxie was going off on drums, and Gia was lost in her own world, floating through synths and smiles.

“He plays bass, he plays bass… nothing matters ‘cause we’re both in space… Pretty shit we didn’t ever date… he plays bass, he plays bass”

She was jumping across the stage with Lena, side to side, the joy flooding through every scream, every chord.

“Yes, we’re both stuck in the same boat… The world doesn’t seem to get us though. You’re just stuck in space—”

“Or Ireland!” Ramona laughed into her mic. And just like that, it hit her like a cold slap. The smile vanished from her face. She would kill her after the set. Even if Lena was giggling like nothing had happened, completely in on it.

“—just playing your bass”

Her cheeks were burning.

“He plays bass, he plays bass… nothing matters ‘cause we’re both in space. Pretty shit we didn’t ever date… he plays bass, he plays bass”

The song started to slow down. Only Ramona’s guitar carried it now, joined gradually by Lena’s bass and the soft shimmer of cymbals.

“He plays bass, he plays bass… nothing matters ‘cause we’re both in space. How I wish we could just date…” she whispered, “so you can teach me how to be more like… you”

There was a beat of silence. Then all the instruments crashed back in.

“Wish I was more like you. Wish I was more like you. Wish I was more like you”

She ended breathless, heart pounding.

“Thank you.”

She turned to her right. Bobby’s eyes were on her. And with a single glance, he completely undid her world.

Bobby was still standing there, motionless. It wasn’t just the sun in his golden hair, or the heat from the stage lights and from the crowd. No, this was something else—a strange electricity hanging between them. She couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was the vulnerability she'd exposed in that song, or the stupid joke they made about Irish bass players. Maybe it was the weight of those fleeting moments, caught in the music, in the audience, in the way their worlds collided and then, just as quickly, pulled apart. He was there, and she was here, and yet the connection they shared never fully made sense.

Lena nudged her shoulder, laughing about the crowd's energy, but something in her shifted when she noticed her gaze was locked with Bobby's. “You okay?” Lena asked softly, following her line of sight.

“Yeah… Just—just need a second,” she murmured.

Lena didn't press further, but the quiet undercurrent of the moment had already made itself known. There was something bigger than either of them, and neither knew how to deal with it. Not yet. As the crew began to clear the stage after a few more songs, the clamor of footsteps and voices blurred into the background. She barely heard the shouts and cheers. She was only aware of the steady thrum in her chest, each beat syncing with the pounding in her ears. And Bobby was still looking at her, like he'd never looked at anyone else before.

Maybe she should talk to him. Maybe she shouldn't. Maybe she was just too fucking afraid.

notes; hi!! first fic<33 lmk if u want a second part muah

[mxmarsbars]

wild life impdog summarized

[mintyys-blog]

Hello!!♥️ I really enjoyed all other invincible stories and writing for each mark i find em such a spot on. I was wondering if it would alright to request invincible (any mark) with reader having powers like Danny phantom? :0 i thought it could be cool idea in invincible world to have someoke with supernatural powers as in like ghost powers and stuff in way and would be useful when the power of possessing bodies comes in play and be helpful too? lol imagine reader spooking mark once a while ptff

MY BOO | mark grayson x danny phantom! reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS:

You’ve made it your life’s mission to scare the absolute hell out of Mark at least once a week. Whether it’s floating above his bed while he’s mid-sleep, your glowing eyes flickering in the dark like some demonic entity, or phasing through the wall with a blood-curdling whisper, it never gets old. The way he jumps, fists ready, eyes wide—it’s a masterpiece every time. And while he plays it off like he’s “used to it,” the haunted look in his eyes says otherwise.

There was one particular morning you phased through the ceiling right as he stepped out of the shower. He screamed and almost flew through the damn wall. “You can’t keep doing that!” he shouted, wrapping a towel around himself while still trying to act tough. You just floated upside down, smirking, saying, “If you didn’t look so cute when scared, maybe I’d stop.” He blushed. You called that a win.

When it comes to fighting, though, you’re a dream teammate. Mark’s all power and speed, but your ghost powers make you unpredictable. He flies in with brute force, and you phase through the ground, possess a villain’s body, and start using them as a puppet. Once, during a mission, you made a mercenary punch himself in the face so hard he knocked out cold. Mark stared, jaw slack. “Did you just—” “Yeah. Possessed him. Also made him twerk a little before I left. Hope that’s okay.” He couldn’t stop laughing… until you told him the next person you planned on possessing was him.

He didn’t take it seriously until one day you actually did. It was a light possession, nothing permanent—just enough to feel what flying felt like from his perspective. He freaked out the moment he felt his body moving without input. “Babe, this is NOT funny—oh my god why am I doing flips?! STOP DOING FLIPS.” You eventually let go and floated beside him, smug as hell. “So this is what it’s like to have pecs. Wild.”

You have a habit of turning invisible when you’re mad. Mid-argument, Mark would blink and realize you’ve vanished into thin air. “Seriously? You ghosted me? LITERALLY?” he’d yell, arms thrown up. You’d pop back in through the floor, say something dramatic like, “I rise from the dead… only to hear more of your bullshit,” and disappear again. It was infuriatingly effective.

Late nights were the worst for him. You’d wait until he’s half-asleep, then whisper his name like some haunted movie villain. “Maaaark…” and he’d jolt awake, looking around like he’s in a horror film. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack,” he mumbles, face buried in the pillow. “That’s the point,” you reply sweetly, curling up beside him.

Mark actually loves the deep parts of your powers too—the way you can feel shifts in the spiritual world, how your ghost sense picks up emotions, memories, and even lost souls. It’s not just creepy—it’s beautiful. You bring perspective to his strength, make him think about more than just punching the bad guy. He loves listening to you talk about the strange energy of being stuck between two worlds—living, but not completely. You once told him, “You were born to destroy planets. I was born already half-dead. We both carry things we didn’t ask for.” He kissed you so hard that night, holding you like you were the most real thing in the universe.

People definitely fear you more than him sometimes. You don’t just knock people out—you break them down psychologically, force them to confront guilt, possess their bodies and make them apologize to their teammates before walking off in your glowing form. Mark’s tried to act like the more intimidating one, but even he knows—when villains see you, they run.

He has a collection of ghost puns for you. “Boo-thang,” “my spooky girl,” “hauntie,” and even “Casper, but hot.” You pretend to hate it, but you secretly live for it.

And when he talks about the future, about maybe having a home or kids one day, he always says, “Would they be half-Viltrumite, half-ghost? Because that sounds terrifying, and I’m into it.” You grin, saying, “They’d be invisible until they want juice. Then they’d phase through the fridge.” Mark laughs but lowkey hopes it really happens.

You’re his chaos. His phantom menace. His mischievous, glowy-eyed, haunting little piece of home. And even if he never quite gets used to you floating through walls or making the TV talk back to him, he knows one thing for certain—life has never been more fun, more weird, or more perfect.

[iamhereforfunnzies]

CHAPTER 3 :Woo's& Tears

Strange. Damian feels strange, like he's missing something. He looks around the couch and sees that everyone is here. Tim and Steph are fighting for the popcorn, Jason is trying not to cry as Dick makes fun of him, Father is sighing but smiling nonetheless, and Cass and Damian are deciding on the next movie. He must be overthinking things—everyone that matters is here. Maybe he’s just psyching himself out; Mother always said he had a tendency to do that during missions.

As the credits roll and everyone heads to their respective rooms for the night, a ponytail sways past the halls, a skirt flowing with each step, humming softly. (Name)’s face is adorned with a huge, plastered smile as she holds a My Melody plushie tightly.

Oh.

You weren’t there.

Standing behind you, Damian feels a shiver run down his spine, and it seems he isn’t the only one.

“I didn’t realize (Name) was out,” Tim chimes in from behind him.

“It slipped my mind,” Damian replies.

“Family movie night is required. We never really get to spend time with each other.” Tim eyes the plushie as you begin to fade away down the hall.

“(Name) broke the rules.”

The two stumble through doors and hallways until they reach your room. You jump slightly from your seat while applying your skincare.

“Is there something you need?” you ask, confused.

“Why weren’t you at movie night?”

You freeze.

"Everyone was there," Tim adds, looking between you and Damian.

“Yup! Even Jason showed up,” Dick grins.

“I didn’t think it would matter whether I was there or not.”

Damian’s eyes narrow. “How selfish and uncaring of you to assume the family wouldn’t notice.”

You look down, facing the floor. “Did you?”

Tim hesitates as Damian crosses his arms, holding his nose as if in irritation.

“Even still, you should come,” Tim insists. “It’s not often the family gets to be together.”

Your voice turns hoarse. “Answer the question. Did you or did you not notice?” Your fingers scratch anxiously at your arm.

“That’s besides the point—”

“We didn’t,” Damian cuts in. “Maybe you should actually contribute something to this family instead of just standing around waiting to be noticed.”

His words cut like a knife.

Your head lifts, expression blank. The boys tense under your stare.

“I’ve been trying so fucking hard,” you whisper. Then louder— “LOOK AROUND YOU, DAMN IT! I WANTED TO BE A PART OF THIS MANOR, BUT YOU NEVER LET ME IN!”

Your hands tremble as you motion to the awards decorating your walls.

“I NOTICED ALL OF YOU—going out at night, the bruises, the scratches, the injuries, the sleepless eyes, the bandages—but you never tell me anything.”

Your voice cracks.

“I didn’t do all this just to win some cheap medal, some stupid trophy, or a goddamn piece of paper.”

What you thought was a fit of rage—wild, explosive—is different in their eyes.

To them, you look more like a pitiful, hissing cat.

Damian’s expression darkens. “Maybe it’s because you’re not good enough. Do something actually worthwhile for once in your life.”

Silence.

Tim looks horrified. “Why the hell would you say that?!” He clamps a hand over Damian’s mouth.

“(Name), he didn’t mean it—”

Tim’s voice wavers as he takes in your disheveled form.

Your hands are still scratching—harder, harder—until blood beads along the raw skin of your arm.

You don’t say anything, but your eyes scream at them.

The door swings open.

“Why is there so much screaming? It’s late,” Dick mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

He stops.

Tim is restraining Damian, who looks like he’s about to throw more venom at you. Dick sighs.

You were always so understanding.

He remembers how you smiled even after Damian first tried to harm you.

"He’ll warm up to me!"

Your voice echoes in his mind.

Dick steps forward, voice soft. “(Name), you know Damian is… emotional. Let’s not take it to heart, okay?” He gives you his signature charming smile.

But something is different.

You’re not looking at him.

"Rubbish," you whisper. Your voice is hoarse, deep, almost unrecognizable.

Dick flinches.

“(Name), let’s not get ahead of ourselves—”

You glare at him.

Why are you glaring at him?

"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!"

You scream at the top of your lungs, waking the whole manor.

Your scratching becomes more frantic, each scrape drawing more blood.

Dick reaches out to hug you, but you scream and shove him away.

That’s when Damian snaps, breaking free from Tim’s grasp.

Before anyone can react—

Rip.

Damian tears Melody’s head from its body.

“QUIET DOWN. YOU’RE ACTING LIKE A CHILD.”

Silence.

Your voice disappears.

Your eyes—wide, unblinking—move between Melody’s head and Damian.

Tim and Dick exchange frantic glances, silently begging Damian to apologize, but he stands firm.

“Act like a child, get treated like one,” he mutters, dropping the plushie’s head onto the floor.

Your eyes follow the trail of stuffing.

Tim and Dick yank Damian out of the room, leaving you frozen in place, staring at Melody’s remains.

“WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO DO THAT?!”

Dick smacks the back of Damian’s head as Tim recounts the events.

“Did you not see her reaction?” Tim snaps. “SHE WAS BEING A CHILD! IT’S JUST A TOY,” Damian protests, rubbing the sore spot where Dick hit him.

Dick exhales sharply, trying to calm himself. “You are going to apologize.”

Damian glares. “WHY SHOULD I?!”

Tim buries his face in his hands.

“(Name) is sensitive,” Tim says, voice quieter now. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t be so harsh.”

Damian scoffs, but Tim’s next words shake him.

“Did you see how her eyes dropped when you ripped that plushie? You went too far.”

Dick nods. “Apologize first thing in the morning. (Name) looked exhausted, and you need to reflect.”

Damian opens his mouth to argue—

Then he remembers your expression.

Your eyes—wide, hollow, filled with an agony he could almost hear.

Fine. He’ll apologize.

He’ll get you another plushie.

Though, the thought of you winning it at a fair—on a date, perhaps—irks him more than it should.

“Fine.”

Bruce hears about what happened.

Why must two of his children be such complete opposites?

One, so hard-headed and cruel.

The other, so fragile and emotional.

Yet, his stomach twists uncomfortably the longer he goes without seeing you.

He walks into your room.

You’re curled up on the floor, cradling the plushie’s head, dried tears staining your cheeks.

His heart tightens.

Your arms are scratched raw, streaked with dried blood.

Even in such a pitiful state, he can’t help but think you look… small.

So childlike.

So innocent.

Crying over a broken toy.

It’s okay. He’ll fix it.

No matter how tall you get, you will always be his baby.

Bruce gently lifts you, tucking you into bed. He makes a mental note—he needs to switch your room.

His eyes drift toward the awards on your walls.

Oh. How talented you are.

When did you achieve all this?

Wait.

They aren’t recent.

They’ve been there for years.

Bruce’s breath hitches.

No. No, no, no.

He never came to any of these.

His hands tremble as he rushes around the room, searching.

No.

Slowly, his head turns back to you.

Tossing.

Turning.

His vision blurs.

A tear drips onto his face.

Fact: (Name) doesn’t know about the Family being vigilantes ; if your wondering what about Jason? She came after Tim and they explained that he was just in hiding because bad people were after him; she was young and impresional so she believed it. Cause why would an adult lie to her?

Tags: @asillysimp @leeiasure @strwberryglass @prorpy @simannss

@1abi @knuiui @justafrixie @uu-uuu @ryuushou @tsxukikami

[riddlesrizzler]

Brewing Something More

𝘱𝘵. 3 𝘰𝘧 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘊𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘊𝘶𝘱

summary: A brief encounter sparks something Mattheo didn't anticipate. characters: ceo! mattheo. teacher! reader warnings: none word count: 1.3K

Mattheo Riddle was a creature of habit. His life was built on structure- strategic moves, calculated risks, and an ironclad routine that ensured he remained in control at all times.

Every Saturday morning, without fail, he ran the same five-mile route through the city. He liked the way the early hours felt before the world fully woke up, the rhythmic pounding of his feet against the pavement drowning out the constant noise in his head. It was the one time in his day that did not demand a cutthroat decision or a ruthless negotiation.

But this Saturday was different.

Because as he rounded the corner near the end of his run, something shifted in the air- something unspoken, something electric. And then as if the universe itself had orchestrated the moment, he saw her.

Y/N

She had stepped out of the coffee shop, the same one he had haunted for an entire week just to catch a glimpse of her. But this time, she wasn't in a galaxy covered dress or a coffee stained sweater.

No, today, she looked... softer.

She was wearing light wash overalls, the straps loose over her shoulders, layered over a delicate white eyelet top. Her hair was loosely pulled back, a few strands of hair effortlessly slipped to frame her face like it was intentional. In one hand, she held a coffee cup- probably something sweet, he imagined- and in the other, a small bouquet of flowers, a mix of wild daises and soft pink roses.

Mattheo swore under his breath as his pace instinctively slowed.

This was not part of his plan.

But Mattheo Riddle was nothing if not adaptable.

So when she turned and nearly walked straight into him, it was almost too easy to let it happen.

"Oh-" she gasped, her coffee sloshing dangerously near the rim. "Wow, we really have a habit of running into each other, huh?"

Mattheo smirked, shifting his weight as he took a slow step back, giving her space he wasn't sure he wanted to give. "Maybe you should start watching where you're going."

She smiled, something along the lines of amusement as her eyes twinkled in the sunlight. "I think you are the common denominator here, Riddle."

He nearly flinched at how easily she said his name, like it wasn't something to be feared. Like he was just some guy she happended to see at a coffee shop and not the CEO of a multi-million-dollar company.

Intriguing.

His gaze flickered to the colorful flowers in her hand. "Those from a secret admirer?"

She glanced down at them, a small, almost embarrassed smile tugging at her lips. "Oh, these? I got them from the farmers market downtown for my classroom."

Right. She was a teacher. The thought still sat strangely in his mind. She seemed too... radiant for such a thankless job.

She lifted the bouquet slightly, as if explaining her actions. "I try to keep fresh flowers on my desk for my students. They get so excited about the little things, and I like to make the room feel welcoming, we're like a family after all."

Mattheo couldn't quite pinpoint why, but something about that sent a tight pull through his chest. He barely noticed when his hand flexed at his side, as if itching to reach for something he wasn't allowed to have.

Instead, he shifted the conversation before it could settle too deeply. "And the coffee?"

She lifted it slightly, her smile turning playful. "Hazelnut latte. My Saturday tradition during the school year, it's like a reward."

Mattheo made a noise of disapproval. "Too sweet."

She gasped in mock offense. "excuse me, not all of us like our coffee tasting like tar."

Mattheo chuckled, shaking his head. "You haven't had good espresso, then."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "And I suppose you consider yourself an expert, Mr. spills-his-coffee-on-innocent-bystanders?"

"I don't settle for anything less than the best." The words came out without thought, smooth and precise like every other statement he made. But this time, there was something different lurking beneath them, something unspoken.

And by the way her lips parted slightly-barely-he knew she had caught onto it.

For a brief moment, the world around them faded. The street, the distant hum of cars, the early morning breeze. None of it existed. Just the two of them, standing close enough that he could catch the faintest trace of her vanilla perfume.

He should have walked away.

He should have nodded, said his goodbyes, and then continue on with his run.

But Mattheo Riddle never denied himself what he wanted.

So instead, he shifted forward slightly, tilting his head as he let his gaze drift over her face- slow, deliberate. "Give me your phone."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

His smirk deepended. "Your phone. Unless you plan on making me track you down every time I want to see you."

She blinked, clearly caught off guard by his directness. But then, to his complete and utter surprise, she laughed. Just like the one from yesterday that was soft and melodic, a sound that curled around his ribs and settled somewhere deep in his chest.

"You are seriously something else," she shook her head, her voice quiet with a hint of a smile. But then, to his satisfaction, she reached into the front pocket of her overalls, pulling out her phone and handing it to him.

Mattheo took it without hesitation, typing his number with quick precision before saving it under his name.

Just his name.

No titles, no formalities. Just Mattheo.

When he handed it back to her, their fingers brushed-brief, fleeting, but enough to send a jolt of something sharp through his skin.

She glanced down at the screen before looking back up at him. "So, what, you're planning on texting me coffee critiques now?"

He huffed a quiet laugh, stepping back just slightly, though the air between them remained charged. "Maybe. Or maybe I'll do something even worse."

She tilted her head, clearly intrigued, as her hair fell with her. "Like what?"

His smirk turned wicked, his eyes dark with promise. "Ask you out."

Her lips parted again, something that happened when she was caught off guard. Only, she didn't hide her reaction with laughter. Instead, she studied him- really studied him- like she was trying to figure out whether he was being serious.

He was.

He was more serious about this than he had been about anything in a very long time.

And then, a smile spread across her face. Not teasing, not guarded- just warm, just her. "Well," she mused, taking a small sip of her latte, "I suppose that would be terrible."

Mattheo's jaw ticked, a sharp sense of satisfaction circling through him. "Tomorrow night."

It wasn't a question.

Y/N raised a brow with a grin. "You're very confident in yourself, huh?"

He returned the grin. "Always."

She rolled her eyes playfully but didn;t argue. Instead she simply nodded, stepping back towards the sidewalk. "Alright, Mr. Riddle. Tomorrow night."

And then, just like that, she turned and walked away, her flowers swaying slightly in her grasp.

Mattheo watched her go, his pulse steady but hi smind anything but.

Because, for the first time in a very long time, something felt unexpected.

And he couldn't wait to see where it led.

[luveline]

roan and eddie fic , eddie has a dream that he never met reader & he just feels so miserable cuz he cannot imagine life without her

🤍🤍🤍

“Daddy, wake up.” 

Eddie groans. “Five more minutes.” 

“No, wake up, we’ve got school!”

“I don’t go to school, little miss,” he protests, forcing his eyes open as he sits up.

His bedroom feels empty. After a few moments, he realised it isn’t his bedroom, or it is, but it’s the wrong one. “What?” he mumbles. 

“Daddy,” Roan says again, climbing onto his high bed with a grunt. Her hair is wild, a dark cloud around her head. “We are so late.” 

“Where’s Y/N?” 

She frowns. “What?” 

“Where’s mom, baby? Did she already leave?” 

“Did you hit your head?” she asks, giggling, a nervousness threading through it. 

“What?” he asks. But he’s looking around, and he’s thinking about it, and you’re not here. “Who am I talking about?” 

“I don’t know,” Roan says, shrugging. She crawls across the blankets and plonks herself down in his lap. Eddie kisses her hair, and she’s perfect, but he can’t help feeling like something is very wrong. 

“This is a weird dream,” Roan says. 

Eddie wakes up hard. Disorientated by the sudden change in position, the lack of baby in his lap, he flinches and yanks on his own hair trying to sit. He can remember the dream for a few seconds, the knowing you weren’t there and the posters on his bedroom wall, but then looks around at the walls of his current bedroom and starts to forget. Dreams are so fleeting. The details slough off and leave behind a single feeling of loneliness. 

“You okay?” 

He rubs his eyes, fingertips pressed deep into soft material. “Think I just had a bad dream.” 

“What happened?” 

You’re croaking. He must’ve woken you shifting the mattress. The alarm clock blinks an upsetting 4:23AM, casting a weak red light onto your arm. Eddie grabs you without thinking about it beforehand, his fingers too tight on your elbow. 

Your jaw goes soft as you lean down to kiss his hand. “Eddie?” 

He feels like crying. Startled by his own emotion, he takes his hand back and climbs out of bed. 

“Eddie, sweetheart,” you say. You sound upset, but Eddie can’t deal with crying in front of you again, it hasn’t even been two weeks since he cried over Roan getting her Student of the Week award. She looked so small on the stage. 

Eddie attempts to flush the strange feeling away with two handfuls of cold water at the bathroom sink. He can hear you getting out of bed, your socked feet on the hallway floor, the creaky door as you slide into the bathroom. You wrap your arms around him from behind without saying anything, too in love to bother asking, your face pressed hard to his naked shoulder. “What’s going on?” you ask, “You’re being weird, baby.” 

He tries to hug you backwards. “Sorry.” 

“I think I’m gonna fall over, it’s so early.” 

“Sorry,” he says again, turning and dragging you into his arms. 

“Your hands are still wet, you freak.” 

“Sorry.” He kisses your forehead, feels your arms and your back and remembers that you’re real. 

“Stop saying sorry, since when do I care? You could go swimming in Lover’s Lake during peak hook up season and I’d still want a hug.” 

“That’s disgusting,” he mumbles. 

“Exactly, that’s how much I'm in love with you, Munson.” 

“You know when you’re a Munson, you’ll have to think of something else to call me,” he says. 

It’s the kind of quiet only night time holds, and it’s still so dark. The only light is the orange sunshine night light glowing in the hall to make sure Roan’s not too scared to use the bathroom at night, and it doesn’t do much, but Eddie can see your skin, your hair, the hill of your shoulder and the slope down to your elbow. 

“You can start calling me Munson,” you say. 

“Yeah? Taste of your own medicine?” 

“When did you take your shirt off?” 

“You were sleeping. You’re too warm to cuddle lately, but I still wanted to cuddle,” he mumbles. 

“Cuddle…” 

He yanks you up into his arms. Eddie’s not macho or anything but he can lift you into a hug for a good three seconds, just long enough to kiss you and tuck his nose into the space below your ear. “Stop making fun of me,” he says. 

“I’m not… Well, I am, but it’s not ‘cos I don’t love you. Can we go back to bed now?” 

“You want me to carry you?” he asks, and he means it, he’s gonna treat you like the princess you deserve to feel like from now on. 

“No… last time we tried that we woke Ro and she was grumpy all day,” you say, taking his hand. “Come on, honey, I’m gonna give you a massage. You can’t have bad dreams after that.” 

“What kind of massage?” 

“Deep tissue shoulder massage. And I can throw in a couple of kisses, but only if you tell me about the dream.” 

“I’ll tell you anything you want,” he says. 

You beam at him, sleep in the corners of your eyes but no less beautiful for it. 

[admiringlove]

persuasion. the way writing this was kind of hurting me too ugh. anyway here it is, another part of my @angstober event this year. again, sorry for the delay. and please watch out for some very slight nsfw themes. masterlist of the event can be found here.

you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself.

this endless teetering back and forth. like a newton’s cradle, every action meeting an equal and opposite reaction, but never any resolution.

the first time you left was harrowing. painful in ways you hadn’t thought possible. your chest had burned, your hands had trembled, and every step away from him felt like you were leaving parts of yourself behind. the arguments echoed in your head long after, looping endlessly, even though all you’d truly wanted was his arms around you.

toji’s arms.

but he never gave you that, not when it mattered most. he always seemed so far away during those moments, like his mind was locked in some impenetrable place you could never reach. and next to him, you felt small. you felt like a child fumbling for answers, even though there wasn’t much of an age difference between you.

when you left that first time, you’d told him you’d come back for your things later. you couldn’t bear to stay long enough to pack your life away from his. instead, you’d grabbed the clothes scattered across his apartment—an afterthought of intimacy you thought you’d had—and left.

your place wasn’t a home; it was a shell. the silence there was too loud, suffocating in its starkness, reminding you with every passing second what you’d walked away from, and who you hadn’t yet been able to let go.

your room had become a husk, hollowed out of the life it once held. the absence of him pressed against the walls like a shadow, suffocating and stark. his things weren’t strewn across the floor in that careless, maddening way he always managed, nor did that strange, musky scent linger in the air; the one that clung to his clothes and skin, a scent you once loathed but came to crave. he wasn’t sprawled on your bed, that half-smirk pulling at his lips, looking at you like you were the only thing worth devouring. he wasn’t there to drag you down with a grip that bordered on desperate, kissing you like he needed you to breathe.

no, now the room was just a room. the furniture remained, untouched, like a stage after the curtain had fallen. the fake vines tangled along the walls, the band posters clung stubbornly to their place, and the photographs on the desk smiled back at no one. the bookshelves loomed overhead, brimming with stories you didn’t have the energy to revisit. everything was exactly where it should be, and yet, it all felt wrong. lifeless.

the man you loved wasn’t there. fushiguro toji wasn’t there.

that night, you sighed into the darkness, and when the weight in your chest became unbearable, the tears came. quiet at first, then relentless, soaking into your pillow until it felt like drowning. you woke up to the salt of it still clinging to your cheeks and the heavy dampness beneath your face. the idea of going back to his place—to face him, to gather the pieces of the life you’d left behind—was unbearable. a week passed. seven days of silence so loud it fractured you. no rough hand reaching for yours in the dark, no shared laughter echoing from your phone’s glow. no wild thrill of butterflies thrumming beneath your ribs.

without him, the world dulled, fading into muted shades of grey. the sharpness of living—the chaos of loving him—had bled out. and you were sure he was fine. you could give him that much credit. he was always good at holding you just far enough away that he wouldn’t feel the sting if you left. replaceable. that’s what you must’ve been to him.

but he wasn’t. he could never be.

he was a fever, an affliction, something that sank into your bloodstream and burned. without him, there was nothing but withdrawal. the ache, the longing, the torment of wanting something you knew would destroy you.

and so, after a week of circling the inevitable, you found yourself standing at his door again. he opened it halfway, leaning lazily against the frame, that shit-eating grin plastered on his face like it belonged there.

"finally came back, didn't ya?"

you didn’t rise to the bait, your expression deadened by days of sleepless nights and the hollow ache gnawing at your chest. "i came back to get my shit, loser," you muttered, rolling your eyes as you pushed past him. you kicked off your shoes at the door, out of habit more than anything else, and made a beeline for the bathroom with your bag in tow. he followed close behind, trailing after you like a shadow, until he propped himself against the bathroom doorframe. his arms crossed loosely over his chest, that insufferable smirk still tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you.

"yer really takin' everything, huh?" his voice was low, a little rough around the edges, as his gaze flickered to the toiletries you were gathering. you spared him a glance—brief, cautious, like looking at the sun too long might burn you—and quickly looked away. you couldn’t give him more than that. your heart had been steeling itself for this moment all week, and even then, you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

he didn’t have to do much. the way he leaned there, the way his voice curled around the words, the sheer nearness of him was enough to unravel you. you kept an arm’s length between you, refusing to let him cross that invisible line.

you dropped the shampoo and soap bottles into the bag with a heavy sigh, your hands trembling just slightly. "yeah, that’s what people do when they break up," you said, your voice flat, though the weight of the words nearly crushed you.

for a moment, the air stilled, heavy with unspoken tension. then you heard it—soft, deliberate footsteps closing the gap between you. you didn’t turn. you didn’t need to. you felt him before he reached you, his presence looming in the small space like a storm cloud.

his reflection joined yours in the mirror, his dark eyes fixed on your face. he could see it. your defeat, the way your shoulders slumped, the resignation etched into every line of your expression. you’d known, hadn’t you? you’d known exactly how this would go, as if it were scripted, as if you’d walked willingly into his hands.

his arms slid around your waist, slow and deliberate, pulling you into the warmth you’d been trying to escape. his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his breath soft, his voice softer.

"come on, we aren’t really broken up. are we?"

you swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the sink as if it could anchor you. "yes, we are—"

"i apologized, didn’t i?" his words were gentle, deceptively so, the kind of tenderness you’d begged for in last week’s shouting match. but he hadn’t given it to you then. no, toji saved that tone for moments like this, when you were already teetering, already crumbling.

his ego was insufferable. a goddamned egomaniac, that’s what he was. fushiguro toji, the man who knew exactly when to break you down and when to scoop up the pieces, holding them just tight enough that you didn’t slip away.

just like that, you ended up in his bed again. the grey hoodie you’d worn lay discarded on the floor, forgotten, as cold unrelenting air seeped through the open window. it didn’t matter—not when he moved the way he did, reckless and punishing, slamming into you like he was trying to shatter something inside you.

as if he knew exactly what he was doing. as if he knew he was breaking your mind beyond repair.

and you’d gone back. over and over, swearing each time would be the last. it never was, though, was it? the only difference between you and toji was that you loved him for all his broken pieces, while he only cared for moments like these—animalistic, primal, and starving.

how many times had you come back to him? how many times had he been conveniently nearby when the weight of your breakdowns became too much to bear? you’d stopped counting after fifteen—somewhere between your pride and his grin, the numbers blurred together.

and now here he was again, in your room, in your bed. the very bed where you’d spent sleepless nights imagining him after you left. it was almost poetic, in the cruelest way.

you looked down at him, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you straddled him, your breaths still uneven. his grunts had quieted now, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his arms wrapped around you with a familiarity that made your stomach twist. you were bare to him in every way that mattered, as you always were.

"we can’t keep doing this," you sighed, slipping off of him and onto the bed to lay beside him. your chest rose and fell heavily as you stared at the ceiling, your thoughts spinning.

he tilted his head, a flicker of amusement crossing his face before he rolled his eyes. "ya say that, but then ya call me in the middle of the night for a quick fuck."

his words hit like a slap, but you didn’t flinch. instead, you turned away, pulling the blanket over yourself as if it could shield you from his gaze. "i mean it this time," you murmured, your voice soft but resolute.

he scoffed lightly, a sound that grated against your nerves, but you didn’t look back at him. instead, you closed your eyes, letting the silence stretch between you.

"when you leave this time," you said quietly, "you won’t see me again."

your words hung heavy in the air, the finality of them sinking in even as you felt the mattress shift under his weight. but whether he believed you or not didn’t matter anymore—you were done trying to convince him, or yourself.

"come on, seriously, not this again," he groans, dragging a hand through his hair, the exasperation in his voice palpable. "we had such a good time, and now you wanna dampen the mood with this shit—"

"fushiguro," your voice cuts through his complaint like a blade, sharper and more commanding than it’s ever been. it makes him pause, his spine straightening on instinct, his eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge whether you’re serious.

but you are. more serious than you’ve ever been. "i can’t keep doing this with you. it might be amusing for you, but it’s killing me. yeah? we had a good run."

those words—we had a good run—hit you as hard as they hit him. the taste of them feels foreign in your mouth, bitter and heavy. you never thought you’d say that to him. not to toji, not to the man you still loved with a depth you couldn’t articulate, more than you’d ever admit, more than he’d ever understand. your heart fractures as you sit there, each crack spreading deeper when you see his face harden.

he doesn’t say anything. not right away. instead, he gets up from the bed, the mattress shifting as his weight leaves it, and strides toward the desk chair where his clothes are piled in a careless heap. His movements are brisk, almost robotic, but the slight clench of his jaw betrays the simmering frustration beneath the surface.

"i’ll wait for yer text," he mutters, tugging on his tight black shirt in one swift motion. the fabric clings to his frame, the same way it did hours ago when you first saw him, but now it feels suffocating.

you turn your gaze away. you can’t watch him like this—not when the sight of him could undo everything you’d just resolved. "i blocked your number, remember?" you remind him, your voice flat but steady. "it’s why you came here today."

he freezes for a fraction of a second, the realization dawning on his face. "oh," he mumbles, his tone subdued. "okay. i’ll wait for you to unblock me, then."

"no, you won’t," you reply firmly, forcing yourself to look at him now. every word feels like dragging glass through your throat, but you press on. "this was the last time. it’s not happening again."

his eyes flicker, a brief flash of something you can’t quite place—irritation? disbelief? something deeper he’d never admit?—before he scoffs, shaking his head as if dismissing your declaration entirely. "whatever you say, doll."

"toji." his name falls from your lips with a weight that makes him stop. you sigh, sitting up straighter on the bed. the loose shirt you’d thrown on clings to your body in awkward folds, and your cheeks burn with an unwelcome warmth. you meet his gaze, forcing yourself to hold it this time. "close the door on your way out, yeah? and leave the spare key."

he blinks at you, as if processing the words takes more effort than it should. for a moment, his posture stiffens, his jaw tightens, and you think he might argue—but he doesn’t. instead, he nods. a single, awkward bob of his head, so uncharacteristic of him that it leaves you momentarily disoriented.

you watch as he moves toward the door, his steps slower now, almost uncertain. his broad shoulders seem to hunch slightly, his usual confidence replaced with something hesitant. when he reaches the corridor, his hand hovers over the gold-colored doorknob, suspended in mid-air.

he pauses there, turning his head to glance at your living room. it’s the same space he’s been in countless times, but now, it feels foreign to him—as if he’s unsure where to place himself, unsure if he’s allowed to linger any longer.

then he looks back at you, his dark eyes locking with yours. there’s something in them you don’t want to decipher, something too raw and too late. your mouth goes dry, but you manage a tight-lipped smile, awkward and full of finality.

he doesn’t say goodbye. doesn’t say anything. he just turns back to the door, his movements slow and deliberate as he opens it, the faint creak of the hinges cutting through the silence.

and then, without a second glance, he steps out.

the sound of the door clicking shut feels deafening. final. like the last note of a song you wish you could replay but know you never will.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[ino-takumas-baggy-sweater]

The Blessing to Your Curse - Part 1 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

Hey y’all I’m back again so soon with another fic, Sukuna’s lover reincarnation (whatever you call it) has me in a chokehold right now and I thought I’d share this with the world. Would like to warn you there is a lot of strange jumping around/pov changes which are indicated by the change in pronouns, I would mark each change but it would get a bit messy after a while so I hope it’s not too hard to follow! ^-^

Reader’s powers involve something I like to call ‘blessed energy’ which is the opposite to cursed energy and is mostly used for healing (reverse blessed energy is used to harm in the same way reverse CE is used to heal) and it’s something I created to use with my writings in the JJK universe. (sometimes I write it a little op because im a self-indulgent piece of shit so for most of what I post I’ll probably dial it back if I use it hehe) The reader has a similar situation to Maki/Mai (MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD) where one twin is restricted and the other has all the energy, and when the one with the energy dies the living twin gains all the power, so I hope that makes sense in context of the story

(PLEASE DON'T HESITATE TO SEND A REQUEST!!!! I'M ALWAYS IN NEED OF NEW PROMPTS AND CHARACTERS TO GO WITH THEM ❤)(I have a post which outlines characters I mostly write for but I'm open to adding to that list!!)

Warnings: mild description of mutilation (sukuna’s transformation), main character death (not described), fluff

Word count: 2.4k

“Ryomen!” You laugh, trying to keep a few steps ahead of the young man who chases after you. Your legs tire easily, body frail and sick despite the immense power flowing through your veins. “I’m coming for you!” He growls playfully, “Better run!” He’s holding back from his top speed, this you know well, but you refuse to let that stop you from trying to keep up with his childish play. Still young, 16 and 17 with him being the older one, you insist that you would rather spend the rest of your life here with him than being shepherded around in the village like a priestess.

This is your only escape from the temple on the hill, only solitude, your time with Ryomen Sukuna is precious and you treat it as such, thinking only of him and his rare smiles. You refuse to let the village’s words taint your view of him, as powerful as he is with his cursed energy there is good in him and you seek to nurture it, for both simple selfish gain and so he doesn’t turn on everyone like they did him. You reach the treeline and race out into the meadow, the grass tall and soft around your waist having stripped down from your daily ceremonial robes into just modest loose undergarments.

He does eventually catch up near the middle of the meadow, springing out of the grass and tackling you to the ground, making sure to roll so you land on top of him and he takes the full force of the fall. The last time you returned to the village after a long day of simple play with bruises and scrapes you weren’t allowed to leave the village for a few weeks.

He’s grown quite a lot larger than you during his time in exile, to be expected when you have to fend for yourself against wild animals and build your own shelter, “You’re getting stronger every day,” You smile, pushing yourself off him and laying in the grass, staring up at the beautiful pink of the sunset. “Well I have to, to be able protect you, I’m not the only thing out there you know,” He says, his tone almost too blasé for what he’s implying. You tilt your head and trace the lines of his tattoos with your eyes, “I know you’re not, but you’re not a thing to me Ryomen,” You murmur, “Please, you’re the closest thing I have to a friend, you’ve always been human to me,”

He meets your gaze, his eyes used to be brown, but the red no longer worries you like it used to, “One day I’ll get you out of that village,” He says softly, his words for your ears and the rustling grass only, “I will take you far away from here and we can live somewhere untouched by the rest of the world,” You sit up, looking down at him as you hug your knees to your chest, “I’d like that,” You say, smiling, “Just the two of us,” Nothing could touch you while you were together, the world stood still for you, not even the scathing remarks you sometimes got from the other young girls of the village could hurt you.

The world is volatile, things can change so quickly. Curses are still so new to the world of humans, sorcerers that act as protectors are only just starting to appear among humans and spread themselves between villages when the day finally comes. The wave of hatred and anguish that came with the curses suffocated everything in its path. You were outside the village when it happened, returning from a visit with Sukuna, and you returned to find nothing but death and destruction. More than half of the village had been killed with no discrimination towards age or gender, and it only soothed you a little to see your old family home empty when you wrenched the door open. No blood nor bodies of any kind. Your parents and sister had made it out alive, but the temple atop the hill that you resided in was completely engulfed.

You weren’t naïve, you did not attempt to return to the temple, but they came for you all the same because your energy was like a beacon for them, and they were programmed to destroy. Running with Ryomen had improved your strength over the time you spent together, you supposed that was one of the ways he took care of you in his silent brooding way, but it wasn’t enough to get you all the way to him. He must have sensed your fear as you grew nearer, your breaths shallow and your chest tight, his eyes are the last thing you remember seeing before your soul was harshly liberated from your flesh.

The smell of blood permeated through layers of warmth that held you in suspension beyond life, but you felt yourself being dragged back to the ground, standing over your own body as you watch the only person outside of your immediate family who ever truly cared for you cry. You had never seen him cry before, it was cathartic to know even he still felt human somewhere inside while holding your weak broken body to his bare tattooed chest.

You felt his cursed energy filling the air like smoke, almost able to see it in the purgatory state you’re trapped in, his body shaking and his muscles twitching. It was like watching someone turn themselves inside out when it finally happened, his body began changing before your eyes, an extra pair of arms sprout from the top of his ribcage just under the normal ones. His face contorts with an agonized cry and one half becomes unrecognisable, the flesh pink and hardened into some sort of twisted mask, and to finish the monstrous transformation a second pair of eyes open under his regular ones.

Drenched in sweat and breathing heavily as he cradles you, you hear him make one last promise, one that locks around what remains of your essence like chains and puts you into a deep sleep. “I will burn this world for taking you from me, I will become the King of Curses, and when you are reborn I shall make you remember, make you my Queen, I will bind myself to you to protect you,” It’s the final part that reassures you he isn’t losing himself as the darkness consumes you, “When I find you, the world will be right once again,”

Now it had been over a thousand years since the light in Sukuna’s life had gone out, reducing him to a killing machine that punished the world for snuffing it out, and he had returned once more in the body of a naive 15 year old boy with pink hair. Having been preserved as twenty separate cursed objects since his untimely death he was eager to resume his self-assigned purge, but the boy had more control over his body than Sukuna could break through, leaving him trapped within his innate domain watching through Yuji Itadori’s eyes like they’re windows.

“I had to do it at least once,” He grumbles to himself as the boy sits up, stark naked, on the morgue table, surprising the three sorcerers in the room with the formerly dead boy. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Yuji, come,” Gojo instructs as the boy slips on some clothes handed to him. “Another sorcerer?” He asks. “You’ll see when we get there,” The taller man beckons him and they make their way to a house on the furthest outskirts of the Jujutsu high campus, small in size and surrounded by forest on all sides except for the path leading up to the entrance.

A fire burns in the chimney and the house is warm when the pair steps inside, “L/n!” Gojo calls out. Sukuna’s attention is elsewhere as around the corner down the hall out walks a pure angel, her energy blinding and her form strong. “Gojo!” She smiles, “Who’s this?” “This is Yuji Itadori, Ryomen Sukuna’s vessel,” She bows politely, “Welcome to my home,” She looks back up into Yuji’s eyes as he smiles, “It’s nice to meet you!”

“Enchain!” Sukuna shouts, and suddenly he’s thrown violently to the forefront of Yuji’s mind. His trump card, wasted. He hadn’t considered the potential consequences, it had been instinctual and foolish of him. The girl didn’t know who he was, but he wanted to speak to her all the same. He would make her know. He cannot stumble, he cannot falter, not when she’s right there and all he has to do is show her, “Y/n,” He murmurs. “That’s not Yuji,” She frowns, her voice soft, “That’s-” Before the two can react Sukuna is on his knees before her, holding her hands in his and hiding against her soft clothing. “I’ve…” Gojo trails off, “I’ve never seen that before,” The girl doesn’t let him go, and he feels her power reach into him, feeling around in the darkest parts of his soul, “My Queen,” He mutters, feeling the metaphysical chains around his heart tighten, “Please, remember,”

A fast surge of energy from Gojo causes the man on his knees before you to react just as quickly, pulling you tighter against him and then seemingly teleporting out the open door into the clearing, “It’s rude to attack ROYALTY!” He roars as Gojo steps out the door after the pair of you. Sukuna has planted himself firmly between the two of you, “You sorcerers never learn manners!” Something happens when your skin next touches his, his hand shooting out to catch you by your wrist as you fail to keep your balance.

A flood of memories that don’t belong to you, in fact, ones that belong to him. You see yourself, weak and frail but smiling widely, Sukuna as he is in front of you now not as he is described in sorcerer texts. A regular human man with an abnormal amount of tattoos, fiercely protective and full of love for the only person who still sees him as human. You vaguely feel yourself fall to your knees as everything from the day he was exiled to the day you died returned to your mind. You knew that despite the life you had lived for twenty years, you were in fact over a thousand years old.

This wasn’t your life, this wasn’t your body, it was hers, but you are her. You can feel the chains, too, the ones he put there the day you died to ensure that you would return. “The world took her from me, and the world paid the price, now BACK OFF!” His words shake you out of your visions, his hand still clutching your wrist as your head hangs weakly.

“Come now, Sukuna, taking hostages isn’t your style, you know that,” Gojo bargains, “Let her go, and we can fight like men,” You shake your head, “No,” You murmur, “No, Gojo,” You finally look up into his eyes, slightly uncovered as he prepares to fight, “He’s right, I know who I am, I know where my clan comes from,” He doesn’t make a move towards you and you take the opportunity to speak again, “My mother was blessed, her child would calm the beast, but she had two and one was weak in body strong in energy, the other was lacking in energy but strong of body,” Your sister had been the one the clan records mentioned, nobody remembered the girl who died alone in Ryomen Sukuna’s arms.

“I am the Queen to Ryomen Sukuna’s King,” You breathe, feeling his grip on your wrist go lax. His energy dies away and he falls to his hands and knees, but the tattoos are gone. “Yuji!” Gojo’s shoulders finally relax and he recovers his eyes, “What happened? How did he get through?” “Don’t ignore me, Satoru,” You state firmly, “Sukuna will not be a threat while I am alive,” “Can you guarantee that?” He’s always been intimidating, but this man was a part of your training as a sorcerer, and he can be rational when he wants to be.

“You’re an imbecile if you think I’m going to go back on a binding vow,” Sukuna spits from Yuji’s cheek, the boy not even having a chance to get a word in, “She is the only thing in this forsaken world I care about and you’re not about to take that away from me just so you can pretend like you’re the saviour of humanity,” You don’t remember ever being as harsh as Sukuna is right now, but his rage fills you with confidence and admiration, “I can guarantee humans will not fall as long as I am alive, his vow makes sure of it, though I’m sure he would not need it either way,”

The secondary eye on Yuji’s cheek closest to you locks its gaze onto you, “Ever so cunning, I wish I’d had the chance to nurture your hatred towards the village, maybe you’d be more open to killing,” He sounds almost wistful, “But alas, I did make a promise, and I intend to keep it, no matter how idiotic I think you sorcerers are,” You finally move to stand back on your feet, helping Yuji up with a tentative smile, “It’s nice to meet you Itadori,” You murmur, “I’m sorry you have to listen to that punk, you come to me if he gives you trouble alright?” The boy nods, his previously cheery demeanour replaced with something mellower and he seems deep in thought as he looks into your eyes.

“He really loves you,” He murmurs in disbelief, “I didn’t… I didn’t think he was truly capable of love, after what he did to me,” You shrug, “It’ll make sense one day, but I’ll let him be the one who opens up, it’s not my place to air out thousand year old dirty laundry with people who are long dead anyway,” Your words hang in the air as Gojo finally sighs. The discussion and conclusion are finalised when he leaves, Yuji will live with you and you will suppress Sukuna’s energy. You will keep the world safe by preserving your life, lest another binding vow come down upon your departing soul and the King of curses be forced to unleash his merciless fury once more.

Sukuna is a little shit and out of character because it’s my fic and I get to write the male love interest however I want (I tried besties :( I don’t like mean Sukuna but I do love “I hate everyone but you” so that’s what you get) also I wrote this instead of sleeping at 2am, the brainrot is real and this will probably end up being a series because I can’t control myself

Part 2 here!

Post dividers from @cafekitsune

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

hi! if you’re not doing requests ignore this..

but i was wonderinggg if you could write something nsfw for 12 raph or leo when they’re infected by the parasitica?! 🤭💋

Parasitica (Angst) (18+)

2012!Leonardo x reader

A/N: Sure I can!💙 I had a little bit of a hard time figuring out a plot for this. Once you’re infected by the parasitica, your only focus is to keep the egg safe, so I was not sure how I was going to make sex and arousal feel natural during that. But I think what I came up with works pretty well. I decided to make it with Leo, as I thought it would be easier to do plot wise💙

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Warnings: 🔴Could be seen as forced in the beginning, but is not meant to be that🔴, fingering, turtley anatomy, doggy style, unprotected sex, mentioning of masturbation, slight dirty talk, finger sucking, finger biting, hard neck biting, bitemark, creampie, open ending, the egg is in the room during the whole thing.

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Looking back, you should probably have texted or called the guys before going down to the lair. You had never thought of doing so before. Normally none of the guys had anything against you coming to the lair unannounced. They would welcome you with open arms. Especially Leo. He was always the first to greet you with a long warm hug, hugging you for so long that his brothers would call him out in impatience. You had nothing against Leo’s extra long hugs. No, you actually quite liked them. They were one of the main reasons that you continuously went down to the lair unannounced, looking forward to Leo’s warm hugs. You liked to tell yourself that your love for Leo’s hugs had nothing to do with your growing crush on him, but deep down you knew it was a lie. Hugging Leo was one of the few excuses you had to be close to him, and you very quickly learned that showing up in the lair with no warning, made his hugs longer. But with the way the turtle’s daily life tended to unfold, it would have been a good idea to text them or call them first. Especially that day. But as we all know, we tend to get those ideas after the fact.

When you walked into the lair that evening, you were surprised to find it so quiet. The normally busy living area was empty, and there were no noises from the normally loud turtle brothers. It was odd. Very odd. The last time you had experienced this kind of silence in the lair was… never. Okay, that was very strange.

“Guys?”, you asked out loud, hoping that one of them would come out, and let you know that everything was already, and it was nothing but your wild fantasy that was making you nervous. But to your dismay, nothing happened. The lair stayed quiet, only your steps against the floor could be heard. “Guys? Is this some kind of strange prank?”

Nothing.

You wandered around the lair in silence, until you noticed the door to the garage was open. Hoping to find the guys and bring an end to the silence, you went through the open door and into the open room. There breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Leo in a kneeled position, facing a bean bag that held what looked like an oversized jelly bean.

“There you are”, you sighed with a laugh. “You had no idea how scared I was, Leo. Didn’t you hear me call?”

No answer. Leo continued to sit in silence, his back turned to you, staring at the big jelly bean.

“Leo?”, you asked, getting slightly concerned. “Are you okay?” You stepped closer to him, but there was still no acknowledgment of your presence. Hesitating, you placed a careful hand on Leo’s shoulder, hoping to get some sound out of your friend. But as soon as your skin made contact with his, he was over you. Leo had you pinned to the ground with your hands by your head, and your legs under his knees. You were shocked to find that Leo’s pretty blue eyes were gone, instead replaced by two place emotionless orbs that stared down at you. Something was very wrong. This was not the Leo that you had had on your mind every night before going to bed, or made your heart flutter with every smile. You did not know who this was, nor what they had done to the Leo you had grown to care so much for. You opened your mouth to scream, but before any sound could escape you, Leo had your mouth covered with his hand.

“Shut it”, Leo growled, putting pressure against your mouth. You tried to wiggle your legs out from underneath him, but instead he forced further more of his weight onto them. As you tried to wiggle and move from his grip, Leo turned your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. “For the glorious egg”, you heard him whisper, before he ducked his beak into the core of your neck. You froze at the feeling of Leo's breath and teeth against your skin. Had it been any other day, you would have longed for that feeling. Hell, you would even have been begging for it. But now you were completely still, holding your breath as you waited for his next move.

You felt the pressure of Leo’s teeth against your skin, fearing the pain for when they would break through the surface and sink into you. But that pain never came. Leo halted his movements, yet his teeth stayed against your skin. It took some time before he moved again, retracting his teeth from your skin, before licking over the spot. This caused you to shiver, a small whimper leaving your lips and into the palm of Leo’s hand. Leo let go of you with his other hand, letting the now free hand wander down your body, feeling your curves as he went. As his tongue continued licking over your neck, you couldn’t help but moan into his hand. This caused Leo to remove his legs from your knees, positioning his body between your legs. You in turn lifted your hip, letting it grind against Leo and his cloaca.

Leo growled against your neck with a choked moan, that almost made you see stars. “The egg does not care how I bit you”, he whispered against your ear, his hand moving closer and closer to the waistline of your pants. “So I’ll do it the way I’ve always wanted to”.

You gasped as Leo’s three fingers slipped down into your pants, and shortly after, they made their way into your panties. You had dreamed of this so many times. How Leo’s fingers would feel against you. And though this wasn’t exactly how you had hoped it would happen, you found yourself lifting your hips once again, hoping to make him move quicker towards your core. Leo growled as this, rubbing your clit in furious circles with two of his fingers. Though you had always thought Leo to be more soft and gentle when it came it sex, you continuously moaned against his hand, whimpering out his name as he worked his fingers on you.

“So wet”, Leo growled. “You like it”. You nodded, holding onto the hand that was still on your face. That was when Leo’s fingers found your entrance, before he pushed one finger into your warm hole. Straight away, he sat a brutal speed, moving his finger in and out of you, feeling you tighten around him. You moaned against his hand, rising yourself so that you could meet his fingers as they plunged into you. Even through your pants and underwear, you could hear the wet sloshing sounds that came from his every move.

Leo removed his face from your neck, so he could look down at your red flushed face under his hand, seeing the way your eyes widened as he inserted another finger into you. That moment you were grateful for Leo’s hand covering your mouth. If there was anybody else in the lair, they would have been able to hear you scream and moan on the garage floor, from the pleasure that Leo’s fingers were giving you.

Then suddenly without warning, Leo pulled his fingers out of you. You were about to complain, when Leo took a hold of you and turned you over onto your stomach. There he was quick to pull your pants and underwear down to your knees, before he propped your ass up into the air. Before you could turn to look at him, Leo took the two fingers he had used on you, and brought them around to your face. There he pushed them into your mouth, making you moan around them at the taste of your own salty juices.

“Be good and stay quiet”, Leo commanded as he was leaning over you, untucked himself from his cloaca. You whimpered slightly as you felt his head being rubbed against your folds, picking up as much fluid as possible, before being pushed into your opening. You gasped, your hands searching for something to hold on to on the ground. Many times you had tried to imagine what Leonardo’s appendix might look like, but nothing had prepared you for his size. You felt your walls being stretched out around him, sending small waves of pleasure through you.

Once again, Leo did not wait for you to adjust to his size, before he started moving against you. Your legs clenched up, and the muffled sounds you let out vibrated against Leo’s fingers. Leo growled once more, leaning further down onto you, until you felt his plastron against your back, moving up and down with each thrust.

“Feels good”, Leo growled just behind your ear, slightly strained from pleasure. “Better than I had imagined”. You whimpered at his words, squashing your eyes shut. The thought of Leo having imagined having sex with you, made you clench him a little tighter. Leo moaned at the feeling. A sound that sent what felt like fire straight to your core. You had always imagined what Leo’s moans would sound like. Late at night while touching yourself, you played the imaginary sounds of Leo’s whimpers of pleasure, helping you get closer to your high. And they did exactly the same at that moment.

Leo brought his free hand under you, letting it move between your legs, finding your clit one more time. He had to use his help to keep you in place, as he started circling around your button once more. You started lightly biting down on the fingers in your mouth, causing Leo to moan against the shell of your ear once more.

“Yes, that’s it. Bite my fingers. Show me how good it feels”.

You felt your eyes almost roll to the back of your head, as you tried to suppress a moan but biting onto Leo’s fingers once more. He in turn moaned against your ear, his breath fanning across your skin. He rested his head against your shoulder, where he began to kiss and lick your skin, while the speed of his hips increased their speed against you, his fingers doing the same. You felt your high beginning to build in your lower region, as you frantically tapped onto Leo’s arm to let him know.

“Do it”, Leo moaned against your skin, adjusting his legs so he could pound relentlessly into you. “Cum for me, (Y/N)”.

And with Leo’s impressive speed, his fingers never leaving your clit, and his moans and words against your ear, it didn’t take long before you came undone under him. Your legs shook as you held onto his arm for dear life. Leo had to remove his fingers from your mouth, so he could cover it with his whole palm, muffling the sound of your scream like moan that erupted from you as you came. Leo followed shortly after with his own orgasm. His grip on you tightened, and his teeth once again found your skin. But as his high took over him, and he started to bugle against you as he came, his teeth came down upon you, breaking through your skin. This caused you to scream against his hand, your walls fluttering against his cock as he emptied the last bits of him into you.

After some time, Leo finally retracted his teeth from you, leaving behind a dark bite mark on your shoulder. He pulled himself out of you with a small moan of pleasure, watching as his cum started to drip out of you. He then grabbed a hold of your underwear and pants, before pulling them back up your body. As you then laid down flat on the ground, you felt a strange tingling sensation from the place where Leo had bit you. It was not just from the pain that came with such a bite, but something more. It was spreading. You could feel it. The tingling sensation moved down your spine and up your neck, making you feel dizzy. You held onto your head, groaning at the strange feeling.

“I’m sorry”, Leo murmured, leaning down to place a kiss onto your temple, before lifting your slightly limb body, so he could pull you in for a hug. “But the glorious egg wanted me to do it”.

There you sat for a moment, Leo’s arms around you as the growing dizziness took over. Leo did not say or do much, other than telling you it would be okay, and how the egg would be merciful. Then suddenly his attention snapped towards the open door, determination flashed in his eyes.

“Watch the egg”, he commanded, moving you off of him so he could stand. “Raphael is coming”.

“Yes”, you said, the dizziness diapering and a sudden clarity taking over, leaving nothing but the egg in your mind. “I’ll protect the egg”.

[lokisprettygirl]

Light into the Darkness (Bill Skarsgard! Eric Draven x Female Reader) (Horror Romance) (18+) (70s AU)

Read Chapter 5 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 6

Summary : Your first period since Eric's arrival goes as expected . The strange man visits you again.

Warning: 18+, Sex, Verbal degradation, blood drinking, menstrual sex, oral during menstruation, Reader is depressed, blood kink, smut, reader has plethora of insecurities, she's passively suicidal, she's in her thirties (for some of you that's a warning I guess), when I say alternate universe i mean it

His teeth grazed over the skin of your neck so you waited for the familiar sting, a sting followed by the most euphoric sensation you have ever had in your life but it never came, he placed a soft kiss on your neck before he moved down slowly, his fingers unbuttoning your nightgown.

This was your fifth night with him, throughout the morning you could feel the anticipation building in your veins, you couldn't really concentrate on the work, all you wanted to do was come back home and get absolutely ravaged by him from head to toe.

“You're not going to feed first today?” you asked as your fingers wrapped around his nape. His eyes met yours for a moment, his fingers stopped moving before he sighed and laid down next to you.

“I took too much last night.. I can't lose control” he mumbled, almost hesitantly as if he was ashamed of the admission.

“I feel fine” you propped yourself on your elbow as you spoke so he looked at you.

“I know you do”

“So what is the problem?”

He turned his head to look at the ceiling, his brows faintly furrowed, then his voice came, low and almost fragile.

“The problem is me” he sighed “You're human” he continued “and it's easy to forget that for a monster like me. The way your body responds to me, It makes me think I can take more. But your blood… it isn’t endless”

You hummed as he said that, then you reached out, letting your fingers trace his defined collarbone

“But you always stop and you're restraining..i appreciate that”

He closed his eyes at your touch for a moment, he wasn't used to this anymore, having someone touch him so tenderly.

He had been down this road plenty of times before, with women the same as you, but something about you seemed different to him and he feared that because he wasn't even sure anymore if he wanted to stay like this forever or get rid of the curse.

He grabbed your hand before he flipped you underneath him, the last ounce of hesitation leaving his body as he ripped apart your dress, his mouth latched onto your erect nipples.

Your back arched as you felt him suckling on your nipples..chest pressed against his face. As he went lower his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart with a hunger that made your breath hitch. He was trying so hard to stay in control, but the scent of your arousal and the memory of your blood on his tongue were enough to drive him wild.

You gasped when his mouth trailed down, leaving kisses along your stomach, his fangs barely grazing the skin but never breaking it. He paused between your legs, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“I want to taste you” he whispered, his voice hoarse, edged with desperation. "Not your blood. Just you"

“Take what you want please” Your breath trembled as you spoke.

He didn’t need more. His tongue slid between your folds with a slow, deliberate pressure, savoring every sound you made, every twitch of your body. His hands held your hips in place as if you might disappear if he wasn’t careful. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair, your thighs closing so tightly around his head, you feared you'd hurt him, but he only groaned into you, pleased by your desperation.

“You'll bleed soon, little flame” he murmured with such nonchalance between his heavy breathing you had to open your eyes and press your head up to look at him.

“Huh?” You murmured but he did stop lapping up on your lips, his fingers slid up slowly, they rested over your breasts for a moment before he grabbed the back of your neck with his forefingers while his thumb slipped past your mouth.

He was speaking of your period.

Will he taste you like this while you're on your period?

“How do you know?” You asked, voice barely a broken whisper.

“I can sense it. The change in your body..you smell different”

“In a good way?” you asked, a hint of insecurity lacing your words.

“Very good way, it's sweet, and ahhhh so ..sweet my darling” he spoke before his nose pressed against your clit while his tongue slipped inside “I cannot wait to feed on you when you bleed tomorrow”

“Oh godddd”

Just the image of him eating you out as you would bleed from down there filled your mind with filthy imagery, you have heard of kinks before but this was different, it wasn't just a kink for him, it was a necessity.

As your orgasm neared he stopped suddenly and quickly got on his knees to take out his cock from his pants..you opened your eyes to stare at his hauntingly beautiful face, the way his hair curled over his forehead, mouth slick with your wetness shining in the candlelight, he looked ethereal in every sense of the world.

Ethereal and mysterious.

You knew he used to be like you, like humans but you didn't really know him, his life story, who he used to be , you knew nothing about him and yet you trusted him in a way you had never trusted a man before, not even Adam with whom you spent two years.

A gasp escaped your throat as he entered you, inching in slowly until he was deep inside you, he grabbed your thighs to wrap them around his waist, pulling you even closer to him if it was even possible. As he placed his palms down on the mattress next to your head you took the moment to admire his features. So beautiful. He was prettier than most women you knew.

Your fingers curled around his neck as he thrusted in and out of you, your breasts jiggling with every thrusts..His movements were slow at first, deliberate, as if he wanted to memorize the way your body felt around him. The candlelight danced across his skin, casting shadows over the sharp lines of his face, the hollow of his cheeks, the slight flare of his nostrils with every breath he took.

“You're not a monster” you murmured your thoughts out loud, his eyes finally bored into you, a hint of surprise and shock.

How could you even say that he thought? He was a monster, an animal who fed on your blood, how could you not think of him as anything but a monster? He was hiding his truth and just for that he was a monster.

He didn't answer you, nor questioned you further, he didn't ask for an explanation either, he just placed his lips on yours and kissed you as his pace quickened, he moved until he had you both falling deep into this feeling, until he had exhausted you to the bone..

Next morning you woke up all alone as you have done in the past few nights, wrapped around in your tethered nightgown.

By the time you went to the record store, it was 11 am already. Mr. Rogers was away on a trip for three days so he had given you the responsibility of opening and closing the shop. The bell above the door jingled as you stepped into the store. Your body still ached from the night before, but in a good way, the sweet sensation between your legs kept you on edge, all you could think about was having him between your legs again, his mouth on yours, his cock inside you, your blood inside him..you couldn't wait for the darkness to consume you again.

You moved behind the counter, fingers brushing over the turntable as you powered it on, letting the soft crackle of a jazz record fill the quiet space.

An hour later as you returned from the back room, you gasped as you saw a man in the store. The same man you had bumped into a few nights ago, the gentleman in a five piece suit. You didn’t hear him walk in, the bell never jingled as it should have. Near the back corner, his silhouette outlined in the shadows between the racks of records. Same coat. Same stillness. Even though he had his back facing you, you felt as if you were being watched by him somehow.

Your spine straightened. Something about him made your skin prickle, not fear, exactly, but wariness.

“Can I help you?” you called out, trying to keep your voice light, casual.

The man slowly turned around, revealing more of himself. The grey hair peeking from under his hat, angular cheekbones, tanned skin. His eyes—gray, almost silver—lingered on you a moment too long before he spoke.

“I’m just looking,” he said. His voice was calm and smooth.

“Let me know if you need anything.” you gave him a nod. He turned around again, almost in a mechanical manner.

He wandered toward the blues section, fingers skimming the tops of the shelves. You tried to not stare at him but your eyes kept drifting back to him. There was something about the way he moved.

And then came the cramp.

It was sudden, deep and unmistakable. Your hand instinctively pressed low against your abdomen, your body curling slightly over the counter.

No. Not now. So Eric wasn't lying. He knew you'd have your period today which surprised you because you yourself didn't know when you were supposed to have it, sometimes it came a week early and another a week later.

“Excuse me”

You hurried to the bathroom in the back, shutting the door behind you with a soft click as you grabbed the pad from the medicine cabinet.

And then all you could think about was him. Eric.

The thought of the strange man in the store was all forgotten for a moment.

“I cannot wait to feed on you when you bleed tomorrow”

His voice rang in your ears like a promise.

A shiver ran up your spine, equal parts thrill and fear. You weren’t sure what terrified you more, what he might do, or how much you already wanted him to do it.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, the mysterious man was gone. Not a single sound marked his exit, no bells jingled again. But on the counter, you found a note.

“Be wary. He deceives. K”

The paper crumpled in your fist. Who was this man and what did he want from you? Was he stalking you? Or was he a creature like that leech Jonah? Fear crippled you suddenly at the thought. No he can't be, he wouldn't be able to roam around so freely in the daytime if he was another creature of the void . It must be some jobless old man messing with you. The writing on the note did make you think though.

When you reached home that night, Eric wasn't there as you expected and that bothered you more than you'd have cared to admit. You entered the bathroom and turned on the tap to fill the tub with hot water, you lit up a candle before turning off the light. You looked at your reflection in the dim light, you seemed different, it was as if you were glowing, you felt beautiful and it was a feeling you never had before.

As another cramp twisted in your stomach, you reached into the mirror cabinet for a painkiller. But the bottle slipped from your hand, clattering into the sink, because when you shut the cabinet door, he was standing right behind you. His reflection was blurry due to the fog from the bathtub.

Before you could react, you felt his palms gripping around your waist, his lips latching onto your neck. You let out a moan at the touch, you had been wanting to feel this all day long.

His lips trailed down your neck slowly, fangs not piercing—only grazing, teasing, reminding you of what he was and what he could do. You let out a breath, shallow and unsteady, as his hands smoothed over your waist, fingertips curling around the hem of your skirt.

“Women of your time” he murmured, his voice velvet and laced with amusement, almost mocking “you wear so little now”

You barely had a chance to respond before you felt the fabric of your skirt bunching up in his hands, pushed higher with a slow, deliberate ease. His fingers skimmed along your thighs, tracing lazy patterns that made your knees tremble,

“In my time” he continued, as if he were discussing the weather, “there were layers, so many layers, petticoats, corsets, chemises. A man had to earn his sin with patience. But now...” His fingers slipped beneath your padded underwear with practiced ease, brushing against the most sensitive part of you, “..Now temptation is almost too easy”

You clutched the edge of the sink as his fingers dipped lower, slow and purposeful, his breath cold against your neck.

“One layer and I get to savour the most intimate parts of you” he murmured in your ear, his middle finger slipped inside you.

“Do you miss it? The mystery? The waiting?” you asked him between your moans, wanting to know if he missed undressing a woman out of thousands of layers.

He let out a chuckle, as his finger pumped in and out of your cunt, you placed your head back down on his chest, your knees already buckling from the intense sensation.

For a moment you forgot you were even bleeding.

“Not really, you compensate for it with your scent, women in my time did not smell as pleasant as you do”

Except her he thought, she always was fresh as a flower to him or perhaps he was just too obsessed to notice otherwise..

“You have no clue how your scent drives me to the walls..makes me want to break you in pieces and put you back together over and over again”

His words sent a shiver through your body, the heat between your legs becoming unbearable as his fingers pressed deeper, curling inside you just the right way. You could barely think, let alone respond, but his words, his raw honesty had a strange effect on you. His claim, the way he spoke of breaking and remaking you, ignited something dark, something primal inside you.

He turned you around, your ass pressing against the edge of the sink, he undressed himself out of his fancy clothes before he went down on his knees in front of you, your eyes were glassy as he looked up at you.

He made you sit down on the sink, your skirt pooled around your waist as he lowered down the underwear, your cheeks flushed with shame and embarrassment as his eyes darkened at the sight of your bloodied underwear, the white line of the pad now drenched in blood.

A gasp escaped your chest as he grabbed your thighs and spread your legs apart before pulling you closer to the edge of the sink, his face pressed between your legs..

“If god existed he'd be damned” he murmured as he breathed in deeply before he started to lick and suck on your wet bloodied cunt as if he had been starving for ages.

“Ohhh God” your fingers curled into his hair as his whole mouth wrapped around your cunt, sucking the blood in, one mouthful at a time, the first two days were the heaviest and he knew he was going to feast on you.

A part of you still felt shameful as if you were doing something dirty, but another reveled in the new found sexual liberty you had, you were being pleased in a way you had never been pleased before and he was getting something out of it too.

You looked down at him, the sight of his head between your legs, his mouth covered in crimson of your blood, he paused for a moment, his breaths heavy as he looked up at you, green eyes shimmering with hunger, with lust and something else you couldn't decipher.

He paused and then he waited, waited for your stomach to churn again, waited for your blood to drip down, your eyes stayed glued as the blood trickled down from his chin, settling between the dip of his throat before it dribbled down from his sternum, he swiped his finger on his skin and collected the residue on his fingers to lick it clean before he dived back in.

He moved like a man possessed. The flick of his tongue was maddeningly slow at first, deliberate, savoring every trace of iron dripping from your body. Your thighs trembled on either side of him, not just from pleasure but from the sheer strangeness of it—the primal pull of watching him gorge on what should have repulsed any other man, a normal man, you felt even more connected to him, this had transformed into something sacred between you.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you still, grounding you against the cold porcelain of the sink, the room now filled with fog from the bath, the water overflowing and pouring on the concrete tiles, his knees soaking in it but none of you cared at the moment. You gasped his name like a mantra, and he answered only with a deeper moan, one that spoke of centuries of restraint unraveling between your legs.

He pulled you to the edge and then he'd wait, wait for the sensation to simmer down before he'd go again, maybe this is what he meant when he said he wanted to break you into pieces, he could have sat down there all night long, savoring every drop until the sunrise but he knew it would have been unfair to you. Once he was pleased enough and once he had you whimpering and sobbing from the recurring pleasure he stood up finally, his skin glistening with your blood.

His brought his hand between your legs, collecting your blood in his palm before he jerked off slowly, all you could do was watch in desperation, your cunt clenching around the air as his pink cock painted in crimson.

“Eric please” you whimpered so he latched his mouth on yours, not even bothering to ask if you wanted to taste yourself like that, you didn't care at the moment though, you'd have gone down on your knees and sucked his bloodied cock if he had commanded you to do so.

The taste of familiar metal filled your senses as his tongue explored your mouth, you couldn't even gasp as he suddenly slipped inside you, the wet sound of his cock pumping in and out of you was nothing but obscene. He thrusted and thrusted until he had you crumbling in his arms.

By the time he was done with you you were so exhausted you didn't even remember falling asleep, all you remembered was that he didn't let you put on an underwear or a pad again, he stayed all night between your legs, slurping on every drop of blood that you shed.

The next morning though, you woke up and he was gone as usual, you suddenly sat up fearing you must have bled through the sheets and deep into the mattress but a pleasant surprise was waiting for you.

A fresh pair of underwear hugged your hips, a pad tucked perfectly in place. You blinked, confused, running your fingers over the fabric, almost not trusting the reality of it. You didn’t remember putting anything on. You didn’t remember even moving.

Yet here you were, clean, tucked in, not a single stain on the sheets, not just that but you were dressed in a nightgown that he picked from your closet, all wrapped up in the blanket, you saw the jug of water on the nightstand that you didn't remember keeping there the night before and the bottle of pills that you had dropped in the sink.

He had done this. He had done all of this.

Somehow, while you were passed out in that haze of bloody pleasure, he had cleaned you up, dressed you with quiet, careful hands before vanishing as the sun appeared.

It wasn’t a grand declaration or elaborate promises you’d heard of in romance stories.

But it was him.

The gentle intimacy of a supposed monster who stayed between your legs all night, feeding on what others would find repulsive and then left you wrapped and cared for as if you were something fragile and precious.

Your throat tightened at the thought of it, this creature who at first you thought didn't have the ability to feel anything moving around in your room, trying to figure out how the modern pads worked, trying to take care of you as you bled filled your heart with warmth.

You brought your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them, trying to make sense of the way your heart pulsed for him. Not in fear, not in shame, not even in lust this time, but in something warmer, a sense of affection clenched your heart. There was an urge to embrace and hold him with no ulterior motives.

“You're not a monster Eric” you murmured in your mind, hoping he'd hear you. Hoping that he'd believe you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Taglist @mariaenchanted @malenoradgn @muchwita @loushaw131460 @wiseyouthinfluencer

@a-differentbrandof-beans @urmomsgirlfriend1 @serving-targaryen-realness @mskiabbs

[fungifanart]

hello my gay mycelium i am giving you one of my draft ideas (go wild, it's been rotting since 2023)

leona kingscholar + hands.

what do you think about his hands ;)

Hold Me Tight

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, male reader

Cw: Self-doubt, guilt, hurt/comfort

Word count: 793

Notes: If no one else got me, I know Soru's got me. Can I get an amen?

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It's been roughly a month since you and Leona officially became boyfriends and you honestly couldn't be happier.

From the outside, it may look like nothing's changed between you and him: Same eating lunch together, same friendly banter between classes, same naps taken together at various times in various places, but it all feels so much more intimate now that you're dating that you can't help the sound of your heart thumping in your chest!

However, if you were to name one thing that feels truly different now, it's that his touches feel a lot more...hesitant.

If you aren't the one to take his hand while walking together, he'll never do it. And even when you reach out, you'll notice the smallest flinch in his hand before he reciprocates.

He does have his moments where he'll put his hand around your waist or shoulder while out in the halls or during naps, but even then, his touches have a certain feather-light quality to them that have become concerning the longer they go on.

Eventually, you decide to confront him about it.

Knocking on his door and announcing your presence, you walk into Leona's room to see him laying on his bed, as usual.

"Looks like you're enjoying yourself." You say as you walk to the side of the bed, earning a half-asleep grunt from Leona in response, "Mind if I join you?"

Your boyfriend lets out another grunt before lifting up the covers and making room for you.

Laying down next to him, you decide to test the waters by gently placing your hand on top of his and, just like you'd expected, his hand flinches away for a split second before quickly returning the gesture.

"...Leona, I need to ask you something." You say while sitting up in the bed.

"Mm...?" The lion responds while opening his eyes to look at you drowsily.

"Do you...not like touching me?" You ask directly, feeling his hand grow tense in your grasp.

"...What makes ya think that?" Leona asks, fully awake now.

"I've noticed several times now how you always flinch when I try to hold your hand and you always hold me so gingerly..." You explain as the self-doubt starts taking hold, "Am I...doing something wrong? Am I making you uncomfortable?"

In the silence, you hear Leona's breath hitch before he fully sits up next to you, "N-no, it ain't anythin' like that. It's just..." The lion takes his hand away from yours to look at it, "We both know what these hands have done. We both saw all that they've taken. They took the dorm's hopes away, they took the moisture out of the air, and they nearly took a life, which could've easily been yours." He pulls his knees into his chest, a defensive position you've never seen him take before, "When I think about holding you, my mind flashes back to the Spelldrive tournament and I get...scared. Scared that these hands might end up really hurting you, like they did with everyone else."

You remain silent for a moment as you move closer to your boyfriend, "It must be tough to carry that guilt for so long. To not be able to trust yourself to not hurt even your boyfriend." Very gently, you wrap your hand around the other man's forearm, guiding it and his hand to lay against your chest so he can feel your steady heartbeat, "This may sound strange, but...I love your hands!" You exclaim, earning a confused look from the lion, "I love them because they're yours! I mean, how could I not love everything about you?" The other man continues to look at you in bewilderment, "And it's not just love, I trust you too! So if you can't trust yourself, then trust in the me that trusts you! That's why we're together, isn't it?"

Leona looks stunned for a moment before releasing his hand from your grasp, but unfurling his legs, "Being with me...it'll only get harder from here. I won't blame ya if ya decide to go back on your choice now..." He practically whispers while turning his head away.

Slightly frustrated, you quickly move so that you're straddling the other man so he can't turn away, "You say that like I'm not actively choosing you everyday, even now." You state plainly as if it were a fact of life, which it may as well be to you, as Leona's eyes widen, "No matter what happens, no matter what these hands do from here on out, know that I'm with you, one hundred percent." You finish as you guide his hand up to cup your cheek and this time, you don't have to keep it there for him.

[thisisntmyrightera]

Over Again (Nikki Sixx & Fem Character)

Description: You and Nikki met thanks to Tommy and he decides that it's time to settle down with you but your relationship soon becomes 3, you, him and drugs so an unfortunate event makes him open his eyes and take life seriously.

Warning: Mention of abort, substance abuse, violence and other sensitive topics.

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It was around 1986 when Tommy my old friend from school found me at a party by chance, we had years without knowing about each other, at that time he had recently married Heather and the idea of ​​settling down with Tommy was so present that he didn't think of anyone else but Nikki, he had to have a woman by his side, i were the responsible, kind and always in a good mood girl that he had met in class but now turned into a woman.

The day Nikki and i were introduced, he didn't seem to care about my presence, his mind was lost in cocaine and with the lights of the place he could barely notice my blushing cheeks when i said hi, for me it wasn't strange at all, i imagined the environment in which he and Tommy moved with the other guys in the band so i just focused on being the social butterfly i always were and soon i found myself talking to another guy near the pool.

For Nikki this wasn't right, how could someone let Nikki Sixx pass by and focus on a skinny blonde guy who was only in charge of moving the cables behind the stage? But his state made it impossible for him to get close, his mind was fused with heroin and no matter how much jealousy he felt in his heart, his mind only asked for more drugs and that's what he did.

By the end of the night i thanked Tommy for the invitation and although the drummer was disappointed that his friend didn't pay attention to a me, he knew something had happened inside Sixx, he knew that look, not for nothing was it his terror twin.

It was during a rehearsal that while Nikki was drinking her Jack Daniels he approached the drums asking Tommy who was that girl he had introduced him to at the party, he knew it, Nikki had fallen, Tommy was never wrong.

After that Tommy invited me again to one of the many parties that Motley Crue gave and this time Nikki was able to fight a little against his addiction and took some time to approach and start talking, it was a matter of seconds when both felt as if we had been friends forever, both laughed and told anecdotes that we had in common, finally Nikki was able to spend a night alone with beer and cigarettes, away from needles and mirrors with white powder.

Soon, sooner than Tommy had imagined, Nikki and i had formalized our relationship, it was common now to see me between the dressing rooms, talking to Heather or encouraging my boyfriend, the groupies did not receive me good at all, they knew that Nikki was finally tied and no matter how hard they tried he only had eyes for his girl.

Finally in 1987, by all rights, i became Mrs. Sixx. my friends couldn't believe that i had walked down the aisle with one of the sexiest rock stars in history. My parents, for their part, seemed happy but deep down they were afraid that something would happen. For them, Motley Crue's music was nothing more than a loud sound and the boys were extravagant and wild. They couldn't understand how their sweet girl had walked down the aisle in her beautiful white dress with a disheveled boy who wore makeup on stage.

The first few months of marriage were good, not perfect, but at home everything was fine, although from time to time Nikki always reminded me that i shouldn't go into his closet, it was his personal place and i understood it, maybe it was a space where he could relax just as he had dedicated a whole room for my hobbies where i could paint, knit and do other of my favorite things, but it didn't take me long to realize that something was wrong, Nikki often didn't come to sleep in bed even though he was home, when i tried to get close to him to be intimate, he seemed upset and irritating so i just turned around and went back to the room leaving him alone.

When i were lucky and managed to convince him of something, he was the best lover in the world, he left me exhausted and with my legs numb and soon i managed i get pregnant, it was an illusion that i had in mind since i ou began my adult life, to have a marriage with a kind man and create a family like the one my parents had created.

That night i ran downstairs with the pregnancy test in my hand finding Nikki in the kitchen drinking from a small glass what looked like whiskey.

''Nikki'' i yelled as soon as i managed to finish going down the stairs as i ran to the kitchen holding the test in front of me, he seemed lost in his thoughts and barely looked at me with his eyes half closed.

''What's wrong babe?'' He took a sip of his drink almost falling off the chair when i hugged him tightly by the neck, his hand resting on my back as a smile spread across his face, it didn't matter if he was high or not, we always found our safe place in our arms.

''Look'' i smiled excitedly, almost jumping holding the test with both hands in front of his face making him blink a few times trying to focus on the small device that i moved uncontrollably with my trembling hands ''can you see it baby? Do you see it?''

''Wait…honey stop jumping I can't…I can't see what it is'' he laughed leaving the glass on the kitchen island, taking my hand in his focusing his eyes on the two thin lines ''Th…what is this?''

''Honey I'm pregnant, we're going to be parents'' His eyes opened wide between the strands of his dark hair, he felt his heart beating too hard, harder than normal, even harder than when he injects the dose of heroin into his left arm, he couldn't understand how he had created life, was he ready for this? What if he was a failure like his father was, he couldn't allow something like that to happen ''Honey? are you okay?''

''Yeah, it's just that..'' he kept looking at the floor, he seemed to be thinking too many things at the same time and none of them were good ''It's just that… wow… we're going to be parents''

''Yeah… you don't like the idea?'' my hands slowly lowered while he looked at me quickly shaking his head realizing that his reaction had make me feel insecure

''No, it's not that honey it's just that… I didn't expect this to happen so fast, it's like it was a dream you know..'' his hand slowly arranged a lock of hair behind my ear with his other hand hugging me slowly while i wrapped my arms around his neck ''I love you baby, you know that right?''

''Yeah I know'' i murmured into his neck, closing my eyes breathing in the scent of his hair and his perfume ''what do you think it is? "A boy or a girl?" my excitement make me explode again, letting go of the hug while my hands rested on his biceps, but after a gesture of pain and seeing how he quickly moved away from me, i looked at him scared. "Honey, are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"It's not… it's just that my arm hurts a little." His voice sounded nervous as she adjusted the long sleeves of her shirt. "Maybe it's because of the bass, don't worry, babe."

After that, there were few days where happiness roamed around the house, since i had married Nikki i had convinced him that i didn't need help to clean the house, i could do it, after all i were there almost all day and when he was on tour i were practically alone with nothing to do.

It was one of those days when i were cleaning the nightstands, throwing away old tickets and dusting the night lamps when i thought about cleaning the closet that Nikki took such good care of, after all it wouldn't hurt to dust it, so without thinking twice i approached the wooden doors and opened them without hesitation looking around, i could notice his stage outfits, the striped one, his leather pants, his boots.

I walked slowly, contemplating everything until i heard something crunch under my shoe. My eyes quickly looked at the floor, noticing that i had stepped on a needle, clearly used and dirty with blood. My eyes then adjusted to reality. On the floor there were dozens of used needles, strips of plastic, and a revolver on the carpet. I weren't stupid. I knew what i was seeing and what Nikki was doing in his "space."

The smell of weed and the blood stains made my stomach turn and i quickly ran to the bathroom, vomiting the lunch while holding my 2-month pregnant belly. After that, i felt totally exhausted. I didn't stop crying all day and i could barely take off your shoes to lie down on the bed.

It was almost 10 pm when Nikki came back from the studio and it seemed strange to him to call my name and not hear my voice anywhere, he looked towards the stairs expecting to see me running down to jump into his arms but nothing, it seemed like the house was empty, he went up to the room taking off his jacket when he noticed me lying down feeling a breath in his throat but soon he felt his breath cut off again when he looked at the open doors of his closet, he knew that his secret was no longer a secret.

''What is my closet doing open?'' He stopped in front of the bed looking at me with my red cheeks and my wet and irritated eyes without caring about how i was ''I'm talking to you… why is it''

''Since when do you do this?'' i could barely mention with my irritated throat feeling a lump forming again in my chest

''What does that matter, I asked you not to come in, I have never broken any promise, I have done everything you want and ask, I only asked you not to go in there'' his voice was getting louder with each word he said, his hands tangled in his hair and then ran down his face in frustration

''I don't give a damn if you broke anything or not of what you promised me Nikki, why are you doing it? why?'' i could barely sit up in bed sitting on the edge while i watched him as he walked back and forth

''That's not your problem…''

''It's my fucking problem since I agreed to marry you Nikki, I don't care what fucking promises you've broken or not, I'd rather find you with a whore in bed than this, at least I'd have the security that she wouldn't try to kill you, but this? Nikki you're ending your life'' my eyes could barely stay open, the tears came out one after another without me realizing it and my voice broke making my throat hurt even more

''You think I haven't tried? I can't stop I'm a fucking addict that's what you want to know? You married a drug addict'' His screams make me jump a little, i had never heard Nikki in that tone of voice

''I wouldn't have cared if you were a drug addict when I met you or after, if you had told me we would have sought help, why didn't you trust me Nikki?…why?''

''It's okay, love calm down'' He took a deep breath approaching me, kneeling between my legs taking myface carefully feeling his hands wet from the tears ''Honey, look at me, calm down think about our baby okay?…I'll seek help, I promise I just don't know how''

''Please stop, what am I going to do if you hurt yourself, what do I do if you die?..I can't do it alone Nikki'' This time i knew that the hormones weren't to blame for my reaction, i were really afraid of losing him, afraid of being alone, of not being part of all the plans we had made together

''I promise love, please excuse me'' his arms surrounded my waist while his face hid between my crotch and my small bulging belly '' I will do this for us, for our baby please trust me''

No, he didn't, just two months later i came home from shopping, it took me just 5 minutes to leave the bags in the kitchen and go up to the bedroom to change the shoes that made my feet swell when i found the room in a mess, the bed was unmade, the bedside lamps broken and there were clothes everywhere, i could walk slowly between the objects when i noticed the closet doors open.

I could barely run without tripping when suddenly i opened them completely and found him on the floor pulling a rubber band with his mouth that tied his left arm while with his other hand he injected a substance directly into his vein

"Nikki…no…no" i ran as fast as i could and barely managed to hold him in my arms when his dilated eyes seemed to have lost the light and he vanished into my legs.

Finally my worst fear came true, Nikki was dead.

My heart was skipping a beat, i felt my stomach turning and my head spinning, my hands held his face, no longer reacting and without hurting him i got up taking the cordless phone to go back to his side while i called 911 and held it calling his name

''Nikki please…please baby wake up'' my voice began to sound desperate while my eyes filled with tears ''Nikki please…Nik..hello?''

''911 what is your emergency?'' the lady on the other end of the line sounded tired, used to receiving calls all the time while my world was falling apart

''My husband is not responding, please send an ambulance please…Nikki wake up'' my hand slowly slap his cheek and then wiped the tears from my face and returned it to press his chest a couple of times

''Your husband is not responding? Is he hurt? What happened?'' There were too many questions for my limited ability to think at that moment

''I don't know, I went shopping and when I came back he was injecting himself with something in his arm and he passed out, please send help please I don't want him to die'' i could barely draw breath, i felt everything inside me collapsing and crumbling little by little

''I understand, please stay by his side, an ambulance is heading to the address on this phone, please stay with him''

Of course I would stay with him, I stayed while they put him in the ambulance and took him to the hospital, I stayed when they gave him CPR and two syringes went through his heart making him wake up, my heart stopped at that moment, there he was, looking at me disoriented without knowing what had happened, as if for him it had been just a bad dream, but for me it was hell on earth, I saw him die and I saw him come back to life.

I stayed with him in the hospital for two days, holding his hand as he slept, signing papers, barely eating, listening to the nurses speak pitifully about me. “Poor thing, she’s pregnant, she must be feeling awful,” they said over and over again every time a new nurse came into the room. Most of them did nothing, they just wanted to see if it was true that Nikki Sixx himself was there.

As soon as we got home, we slept for a whole day. He was exhausted and I was feeling much worse. I felt like my world had been taken away from me like a cruel joke and it had been returned to me after seeing me destroyed. I was afraid of waking up and not having him near me.

I couldn’t just stay in bed. As soon as he lay down next to me, my body joined his like magnets. My arm surrounded his body tightly, afraid that someone was going to take him away from me once again. My head rested on his right arm while his hand combed my hair until we both fell asleep.

But no, life was not easy. A couple of days later, while I was taking a bath, I felt a pain in my stomach, like cramps even worse than I had ever felt in my entire life. Then a hot liquid ran down my legs. I could see the white floor of the shower turning red. The blood did not stop, it ran and ran down the drain.

''Babe…Nikki'' I could barely hold on to the wall, turning off the water and grabbing a towel that I barely wrapped around my body, it turned red

''Love?..what happened?'' His face still looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes

''Help me…our baby'' I looked at him again feeling that sensation inside me, everything would be wrong again

It was in seconds when with his little strength he picked me up and took me to the car without caring about the towel or that he was without shoes, he just ran to the car and drove as fast as he could returning to the same hospital that we had just left.

Doctors, nurses all ran while placing an oxygen mask on my face, no one explained anything, I only heard Nikki's voice while holding my hand.

''Ok, honey you're bleeding and we need to stop it'' the older doctor looked at me placing a mask on his face while a nurse helped him fastening a white apron over his blue robe ''I'm sorry to tell you that we can't proceed with your baby and it's very likely that he no longer has vital signs, we need to save your life first ok?''

I didn't know how to feel at that moment, it was as if God had punished me, he gave me back Nikki but took my baby, why? Why was he doing this to me?…

''But…no'' my eyes searched through the bright lights of the room for Nikki's face, I could feel his hand and hear his voice but the big white spotlight wouldn't let me see him ''My baby…Nikki tell them no…no''

''Honey it's for your own good, our baby is in heaven now I only care about you ok? They must stop your bleeding and everything will be fine, you will be with me and I will be with you and more babies will come, calm down please baby''

I never imagined that I would give birth to my stillborn baby, it was like being in shock and forgetting everything that had happened and suddenly I found myself in a white room, similar to where Nikki had been, Tommy and Heather were with me and Nikki but they were not much help, when i could barely calm down Tommy would come crying making me feel bad again so Heather would take him to the hallway to calm him down.

When we returned home we both felt exhausted, no one had told us that we would live through all this in such a short time, why us?

I spent the days lying down, my mother visited us helping us make food and keeping us company, it was very helpful to listen to her while I lay on her legs as she combed my hair like when I was a child while she told me how she also lost a baby and after that painful loss my brother came into the world.

I also remember how she took advantage of the time I was sleeping to talk to Nikki who never left my side, she scolded him for being so irresponsible but at the same time she advised him. It was very comforting to see Nikki come down to the kitchen one day and hug my mother while kissing her cheek. “Thanks for breakfast, Mom.”

I knew what his childhood had cost him and seeing him smiling and spending time with my mother made me feel happy, as if his wounds were beginning to heal.

I had started painting again a month after our little angel left for heaven. I liked to sit in front of the window and draw flowers or the sky, It made me feel calm.

“Hello...” a light knock on the door made me turn to look at Nikki standing with her hands in her pockets. “Can I come in, baby?”

“Sure, you don’t have to ask,” I smiled, returning my gaze to the window, trying to imitate the color of the sunset.

“What are you doing, sugar?” I felt his arms go around my neck as he rested his chin on my shoulder '' is it the sky?''

''Yeah, but I can't find the color between the blue and orange of the sunset… it's so difficult and beautiful''

''I know… do you mind if I interrupt you a little?'' he looked at me like a little kid as he sat next to me on the floor

''Sure love, what happened?'' I looked at him a little returning my attention to the color palette in my hand

''Well… I want to be honest with you, from now on I won't keep any secrets from you okay?..''

''Ok?.. you're scaring me'' I looked at him lowering my color palette looking at him curiously

''Well… love I… I couldn't contain myself and… after well… you know our loss happened… I injected myself again… I felt really bad and I didn't think about it I just did it..'' his voice lowered little by little until it was silent as his hands played

''But Nikki…''

''Wait… I know I promised you and I'm sorry love I really am sorry it's just that… I know that losing our baby was my fault, I made you go through too much stress and I caused… all that to happen''

''No Nikki look at me, it's not your fault love'' my hands took his face slowly arranging his hair out of his face ''these are things that had to happen to grow and take this life more seriously don't blame yourself''

''It's just that… I don't want to make you go through so much anymore, I don't want to be a useless drug addict, you don't deserve it..'' his eyes showed so much regret, it was impossible for his words not to hurt ''I… I talked to the boys'' he looked at me taking a pamphlet out of his jacket giving it to me like a little boy ''we decided to seek help and join together to end all the addictions that made us complete idiots, it's a hospital and I want to go to so they can help me"

"I'm so proud of you…" I smiled at him feeling my eyes wet as I hugged him tightly and he returned the gesture by sitting me on his lap "You're going to make it, like everything you've achieved on your own, I'm going to support you in every step you take, I promise"

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It's been a year since Nikki and the boys sought help, they had their problems as a band after that but Nikki always reminded me ''It's band problems love, don't worry'' he had become such a calm and positive man that sometimes it was strange to miss the troubled Nikki Sixx.

It was 8am when I came out of a shower, a completely calm shower with no interruptions, I still managed to put some lotion on my body and some clean pajamas to go downstairs to make breakfast when I froze in front of the bed.

There was Nikki, holding our little Faith, it was so adorable and funny to watch them together, she almost disappeared in her daddy's wide arms as she held his finger and with her other little hand she held her head while sleeping, she took that pose from me.

I carefully placed a blanket over both of them, it was early November and the cold air was coming in through the only open window that Nikki refused to close, but it was impossible not to feel my heart melt and I carefully laid down behind him hugging him caressing the small chubby cheek of our little girl

''Don't wake her up..'' Nikki murmured making me smile ''I barely managed to get her to sleep''

''I'm sorry baby..I'm going to make breakfast'' I caressed his hair kissing his shoulder getting up slowly from the bed

I felt like our life was perfect after everything we had suffered, watching Nikki being the most loving and caring father with our Faith made me feel complete, when daddy was home there wasn't a second that he didn't have his little girl in his arms, it didn't matter if he was in his study or with the boys, he was the proudest father and he didn't lose sight of her even when Uncle Tommy carried her and played with her making her laugh.

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It's been 3 years since Faith came into our lives, now Vince has returned to the band and the boys are on a new tour around the country, Nikki barely had the schedule of dates and asked me to pack bags for me and Faith because he wanted us to be with him at all time.

''Look, honey, who's there?'' Faith was a little version of Nikki, her dark hair had been inherited from me but her beautiful eyes and features were totally from her daddy

''It's daddy'' she smiled clapping as she listened to the notes the boys played ''mommy, daddy is so cool''

''I know, daddy is the best'' she kept moving her little head with her pink headphones protecting her ears while I held her on my waist looking at the band.

Nikki kept looking at us, I could see how from time to time his attention focused on us on the side of the stage, blowing kisses towards us but I encouraged Faith to respond to those kisses telling her that they were all for her, she is totally a daddy's girl.

''Mommy, when are we going to tell daddy?'' Her green eyes looked at me as she innocently fluttered her eyelashes

''We'll tell him tonight but for now it's our secret okay?'' I smiled at her giving her a kisses attack on her little face making her laugh

No one said it would be easy being Mrs. Sixx and now it would be a little less easy with another Sixx growing inside me.

[sofiareidings]

Falling For You

Summary: Spencer is completely oblivious to how madly in love you are. That's it. Warnings: fluff and swearing.

A/N: I feel like this idea has been done before, so if I subconsciously copied a fic, let me know!! Also, I didn't mean to do it, but this story is technically spencerxgn!reader so. Also, i'm back!! Another story is coming out at 9pm EST, so be ready!!!

Word Count: 0.9k

Song Suggestions: Wildest Dreams (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift

You two clicked immediately. It was strange, you were both so opposite. I guess that's what made it work. What he lacked you made up for and reversed. Not many other people knew much about your personal life except for him. Your favourite thing about him was his words. Everytime he rambled about the most random times you could listen forever.

Whenever he looked at you, you melted. When he smiled your face burned from blushing. And whenever he talked you just wanted to kiss him. But you had no clue if he felt the same. For a genius he was quite oblivious to your flirting and comments. If he liked you he definitely had a good way of hiding it.

There was only one issue.

***

The movie was about halfway through and you made sure to turn the couch into a bed, Spencer had come over to watch it with you. If someone asked you tomorrow morning what the movie was about you wouldn't be able to say, he'd been talking the whole time.

"...That actually isn't correct," He started, moving his hands around for emphasis. "In the wild, there are two formally recognised lion subspecies. The African lion is found in Africa, south of the Sahara desert. The Asiatic lion exists in one small population around Gir Forest National Park in western India. Wild lions in the west and central Africa are more closely related to these Asiatic lions in India than to those found in southern and east Africa. So realistically the characters would be..."

Listening to him talk was like heaven, but at the same time it was hell. He just looked so huggable.

No, kissable. The butterflies in your stomach made you giggle, he paused and frowned. Looking like a lost puppy.

"What? Did I say something wrong?" Stumbling over the words as he spoke, you stopped laughing and grabbed his hands while smiling.

"No, no you didn't. It was just…cute." You muttered.

"Thank you?" A confused look on his face when he responded. Your heart shattered a little, that was obvious wasn't it? Did his feelings not reciprocate? "Oh! Also, manes on male lions tell a story. Male lions grow impressive manes the older they get. These manes grow up to 16 cm long and are a sign of dominance. The older they get, the darker their manes go. As well as attracting females, their manes may also protect…"

His words trailed off again and he stared at you. "You keep being weird. You're all red. Did I say something wrong? I know that sometimes I speak for too long and I go on and on, which annoys people-" He sighed, "And I'm doing it now. I'm sorry."

"No, please. I love when you talk. It's calming." Grinning, you continued, "So what about protection?"

"Oh, um…manes can also protect their neck and head from injuries during a fight." He slowed down his speaking, like he was a little self-conscious about his words now. When he stopped talking everything was silent, except for the sound of the movie quietly playing on the TV in front of you.

"Spence? What's wrong?" Tilting your head and looking at him, he was staring at the TV but he didn't seem to be watching it. Just thinking, his eyebrows furrowed like they normally did while he was deep in thought. "What are you thinking about?"

"Have you been flirting with me?" He blurted out, looking back up and at you. You almost jumped, not expecting that question.

"What?" Still in shock it took you a minute to respond. Letting the silence fill the air again, he didn't speak. He just stared, waiting for an answer. "I-What would you think if I was?"

"I would've wished I'd noticed sooner." He sighed, making that puppy-dog face you loved. Neither of you really knew what to do and sat there for what you would believe could've been hours.

"Fuck it." You breathed out and as if he knew what you were thinking as well he leaned in at the same time as you, kissing you softly. After a couple seconds you felt his hands wrap around your face, holding it as he kissed more.

Your hands didn't know where to go, after a couple more seconds they finally found their place, one around the back of his neck and the other tucked around his waist. Pulling you closer to him.

A couple seconds later you both moved away from each other, only long enough to catch your breaths and muttering random words. Before you knew it the both of you were back to kissing, to make up for how long you guys spent not kissing.

The longer it went the closer to each other you got, his one hand started to slide down your neck and then your waist when suddenly your hand hit a button and the movie that was still playing turned up to full volume.

Both scrambling for the remote he managed to shut the TV off, surrounding you both in the darkness of the night.

The two of you continued to kiss every once in a while but it didn't take long for the darkness to make you both sleepy and you ended up just cuddling. You fell asleep with your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. He had one hand holding you close to him, as if someone was coming to steal you away. The other hand tracing up and down your back until he too, drifted off to sleep.

[thevanillerose]

PROTECTOR | YANDERE!MIDORIYA x READER | BNHA

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The city was always quiet at night. You liked the stillness. 

It was a rare moment of peace after long days at U.A.—training, studying, trying to keep up with the best. You weren’t a pro hero yet, though it was your eventual aim. Of course, that would mean getting a whole lot stronger first. As things stood, you were still weaker than you wanted to be. Someday, though, you thought. You didn’t realize, but that ‘someday’, and even ‘tomorrow’, had suddenly been placed in jeopardy. 

You heard the footsteps before you saw him. Heavy. You gripped your bag strap, heart thudding. Was someone following you? 

No. You were being paranoid. After all, Midoriya had mentioned the rise in villain attacks lately. It wasn’t unusual to be on edge. Then again, lately you’d had a weird feeling… Regardless, you forced yourself to relax and kept walking.

That was when the streetlights suddenly flickered out.

A hand clamped over your mouth before you could scream, yanking you backward into a narrow alley with such force it gave you whiplash. A broad, impossibly muscular chest met your back, solid as a brick wall, to the point where you thought stone was what you’d initially been shoved up against. Though you immediately tried to wriggle free, attempting to use your comparatively smaller body to your advantage, an arm thick as a trunk locked in around your middle, pinning you snug. It almost choked the breath out of you. 

“Well, well,” a voice rasped against your ear. “Lucky me.” You knew that voice. Your blood turned to ice.

Muscular.

The monstrous villain who had almost killed Midoriya during training camp. He should’ve been in Tartarus. He should’ve been locked away forever.

You thrashed, your hands clawing at his grip, a grip stronger than any other, your quirk flaring weakly in panic. “Don’t bother,” he chuckled. “You already know you can’t win.” This can’t be happening! Although everyone had assured you he wasn’t coming back, you’d lived in some dread, because you knew this guy had fixated on you in particular. How you had needed protecting at that time had been part of your motivation to become stronger, much stronger, so that you’d be able to save yourself, should it ever happen again. 

The world was tilting, your mind racing for a way out, but then—

A deafening crack split the air.

Muscular jerked, his grip faltering. Another crack, louder this time. His body spasmed before he crumpled, his grotesque muscles retracting, his limbs twitching like a puppet with cut strings.

And standing over him, fist still sparking with residual power, was Midoriya.

His breath was uneven, his eyes wild. “Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse, raw with emotion. His hands trembled as they reached for you, but when they found your arms, his grip was firm. Protective. You gasped, still shaking. “H-He—how did he—?”

Midoriya exhaled sharply, running a hand through his sweat-damp curls. “He escaped from Tartarus. I’ve been tracking him. I knew he’d come after you.” His voice wavered. “I couldn’t let that happen.” Your stomach clenched. “You knew?”

He nodded, eyes dark, intense. “That’s why I’ve been following you.”

Something cold settled in your bones. That sudden revelation was bewildering. “Following me?”

His expression didn’t change. “To protect you. That’s why.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears. That was weird. That was very weird, wasn’t it? All the more weird when you considered…how much sense that made. Because lately, there had been some strange things happening in your life. You’d felt a presence you couldn’t pinpoint. “Izuku…how long?”

He didn’t answer right away. His fingers flexed, then curled around your wrist. “Does it matter?” His voice was soft, almost gentle. “I saved you.”

It did matter. The way he was looking at you, the way he wouldn’t let go—it wasn’t normal. This wasn’t relief, wasn’t gratitude. This was something else.

Your eyes flickered to Muscular’s body. He was barely breathing, his frame twitching from the brutal blows Midoriya had delivered. Honestly, you couldn’t think of anyone else who would be able to take down such a beast. If Midoriya hadn’t shown up…well, you didn’t really want to imagine what would have become of you.

You swallowed hard. “So…that’s how you found me so fast…”

Midoriya’s expression remained soft, adoring, but there was something unnerving in the way he stared at you—like he was studying you, memorizing every detail of your reaction. “Yeah,” he said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your stomach twisted. Maybe he’d meant well. And even if he was a lot ‘cooler’ these days, he had always been the awkward type. Perhaps he didn’t even realize how creepy that was, despite his will being good.

“I just wanted to keep you safe.” His fingers twitched at his sides, then clenched into fists before he forced them to relax. He seemed to have caught on to how unnerved you were, “What if I hadn’t been here? What if something else had happened? You could’ve been hurt, or worse.”

The way he spoke made it sound like he wasn’t asking hypothetical questions. 

You took a small step back. “I…I appreciate what you did,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “But I need to go. I need time to think.” And breathe. Your chest still ached from how that brute had been holding you earlier.

Midoriya’s expression flickered, as if he didn’t quite hear you—or maybe didn’t like what he heard. “I’ll walk you home,” he said very matter-of-factly, taking a step forward and extending his hand to you. 

You immediately shook your head. “No, it’s fine. I can—”

“What if another villain comes?” His voice sharpened, and you could see the way his shoulders tensed. His hands clenched, knuckles white. “You just saw what happened. You were helpless.”

Your heart stuttered at the edge in his voice. “Izuku—”

“I saved you.” His breath came faster, eyes wide with something manic, something desperate. “I’m the only reason you’re still here. And now you’re just…leaving? Like you think you’ll be okay on your own?”

You swallowed thickly. “I just…I just need space. I feel overwhelmed-”

His hands shot out, grabbing your shoulders—not painfully, but the force made you gasp. Face-to-face with him, you could see the wildness in his eyes. “No, you don’t understand,” he said, voice trembling. “You’re not safe without me.” “Izuku, let go!”

He didn’t. 

“I can’t. I won’t. You need me.” You pushed at his chest, panic setting in. “You’re scaring me!”

That made him freeze.

For a second, his face contorting. His grip slipped, just enough for you to rip yourself loose.

You didn’t waste a second. You ran.

You didn’t look back. You didn’t care if he was following. You just ran, lungs burning, the wind whipping against your face, your mind screaming at you to move, move, move! Whether you’d ever be able to see him the same way again, you didn’t know.

But whatever that was? Whatever that had been in his expression just then? It almost frightened you more than Muscular had. 

Behind you, Midoriya remained still, staring at the spot where you had been. Down at his hands, curling his fingers in slowly. 

A heavy breath left his lips. Then, his gaze flickered to Muscular’s barely-conscious body. He walked over to him, standing above the battered villain with an eerie calmness. 

Muscular coughed weakly, blood trickling from his mouth. “Crazy little shit,” he rasped, trying to laugh. “What’s the matter? Girlie not so grateful?” Midoriya tilted his head, studying him for a moment. Then, he sighed. “You did your part.” Muscular blinked. “Hah?”

Midoriya crouched beside him, eyes thoughtful. “She’s still afraid. She still thinks she can run from me.” A soft, almost wistful hum left his lips. “I thought this would be enough. That if she saw how easily she could be taken, she’d understand.”

Muscular tried to shift, but he was too broken to move. “Wait…wait, what the hell are you talking about?” Midoriya’s expression didn’t change. “I helped you escape. Didn’t you know that?”

Muscular stiffened. “You—”

“I needed her to need me. So I needed you to make it so. I pulled some strings to make your escape easy. I knew you’d come after her—I still remember—” his eyes flashed with fury, jaw tightening, “—the disgusting way you looked at her when I destroyed you before.” “But…” Midoriya’s voice became distant, almost disappointed. “But she still ran. Guess I should have left you where you were…”

Muscular’s breathing turned ragged. “You little—” Midoriya exhaled slowly, then lifted his bloodied hand. “I’ll have to try something else next time.”

And then he brought his fist down. Hard.

The crunch of bone and flesh filled the empty night, and deep red splattered on his freckled skin. Midoriya straightened, flexing his fingers as blood dripped down his knuckles. He looked in the direction you had run, eyes dull.

Maybe he had been too subtle. Maybe…you needed just one more little push, and then you’d understand. Maybe, he didn’t need anyone else’s help to convince you.

Maybe next time, he’d be the villain.

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[candycandy00]

Sooo the prisoner from the ICU is now on the same regular floor as mom. I saw several cops going in and out of a room down the hall.

Which means I gotta write a fic about it!

Touya x Reader. Fem Reader. Suggestive but no smut.

******************************

Imagine you’re a college chick staying with your hospitalized mom. You’ve heard about a dangerous criminal named Touya who was recently shot by police during an escape attempt, but you only realized today that he’s at the same hospital, on the same floor, as your mom. The armed guards and cops going in and out of the room make it pretty obvious.

You’ve been taking showers in a small, damp shower room down the hall, and that’s exactly what you’re doing when you hear a commotion outside the room. People running, men shouting. Several minutes pass, and then the door to the shower room flings open. You could’ve sworn you locked the door!

You peek around the dingy shower curtain and find yourself face to face with a heavily scarred young man with white hair and wild blue eyes.

Without a word, he yanks the curtain back, takes only a moment to let his gaze slide down your naked form, then grabs your arm. He jerks your dripping wet body against his and holds a stolen scalpel to your neck.

“Not a fucking peep, or I’ll slit your throat!” he says to you, his voice low and dangerous.

“Please… don’t hurt me!” you say in a frantic whisper.

He presses the blade into your skin, drawing a tiny drop of blood as his hand tightens around your arm. “What did I just say?!”

You clamp your mouth shut and nod. The water is still running, pouring down your trembling back, the wetness from your front soaking into the man’s pale blue hospital pajamas as he presses you up to him.

“Now, you’re gonna be my insurance, understand?” he asks.

You nod again.

“They’re not gonna risk shooting a pretty thing like you, so I’m keeping you close.”

Another nod, and that’s when you notice the growing red spot on his abdomen. His gunshot wound, apparently, hasn’t healed enough yet.

He follows your gaze, looking down at where your bodies meet. You feel heat flood your face as he stares.

“I need clothes,” he suddenly says, then puts his hand on the doorknob.

“Wait, I can’t go out there naked!” you tell him, keeping your voice as quiet as possible.

He pulls away from you slightly and lets his eyes roam. He’s getting an eyeful of everything! You reach for the shower curtain and try to pull it in front of yourself, but he tears it out of your grasp. “Get dressed. You have one minute.”

While he watches, you dress quickly, wincing at the feel of your clean clothes instantly being soaked by the water dripping all over you. It’s a gross feeling, but at least you’re covered by your panties, pajama shorts, and tank top.

There’s a strange, hungry look in his eyes as he watches you, but he says nothing. He carefully opens the door and looks both ways in the hall. “Let’s go,” he says, taking hold of your hand. “If you try anything, I’ll gut you.”

You allow yourself to be pulled along with him as he darts into the hall. He moves along, glancing about for anyone approaching. He steps into a couple of rooms with sleeping patients. One is a woman. Another is a small child. He scoffs and tries again, walking into a third room with a young man dozing in his bed.

With a speed and smoothness that suggests he’s done something like this before, he raids the storage cabinet in the room, finding a duffel bag. He grabs it and drags you into the hall, quickly finding an empty room. He tells you to keep watch as he opens the bag and pulls out a change of clothes. Seemingly paying no mind to the show he’s putting on for you, he strips off the pajamas and pulls on the stolen clothes.

You can’t miss the way the deep purple scars create alluring shapes across his toned body. If he wasn’t a violent criminal threatening your life, you’d think he’s pretty hot. Especially with those gorgeous blue eyes.

When he’s done changing, he pulls you close to him again. Your tits press against his chest, and it’s obvious that he’s noticed how the wetness from the shower has turned your thin white top see through.

“You’re coming with me to the parking garage, then I’ll let you go,” he says.

You look up at him, feeling the heat from his body seep into yours. “Thank you.”

The two of you sneak down the hall and make it to an elevator, where he pulls you inside and pushes the number for the floor that leads to the garage.

While waiting for the elevator to reach the right floor, he looks down at you. “You don’t look like a patient,” he says, probably noting that you’re wearing your own pajamas. “Who are you here with?”

“My mom,” you answer. “She’s really sick.”

His eyes remain locked with yours for several seconds, then he looks away from you and says, “I hope she gets better.”

You can’t help smiling at him. “Thanks.”

As the elevator stops and Touya pulls you out and down another hall, you think to yourself that he might not be the maniac the news made him out to be.

Out in the parking garage, he looks around to make sure the coast is clear, then begins checking the doors of vehicles until he finds a car unlocked. You stand watch for him while he hot wires it.

Once the engine starts, he stands outside the car and looks you over again. “You’re free to go,” he says.

You hesitate, remaining beside the car. “To be honest, I’m a little disappointed,” you tell him.

He looks surprised. “Huh?”

“Well,” you say, stepping closer to him, “I thought you’d have your way with me.”

His eyes widen, then he grins. “What’s your name?”

You yell him, and he leans in to kiss you, his tongue running over your lips. “Maybe I’ll come find you,” he says, a dangerous edge to his words. Is this a threat? Or something else? Regardless, you look forward to him doing so.

He drives off in the stolen car and you go back inside, returning to your mother’s room to check on her while cops and guards run around frantically, searching for their missing prisoner.