#unhand that muscle man

[badjohnspeakeasy]

There's a fine line between goofing and bullying.

As tempting as it might be, don't threaten to punch co-workers just for being afraid of your punches

Link

[chosok-amo]

A BRAT IS ALL I WANT ！

TOJI FUSHIGURO has a breeding kink, and you’ll be damned if you give into it! but in reality, he just wants to start a family with you.

warning. husband! toji fushiguro, breeding kink, ōral ( m! receiving ), fingering, nipple-playing, dirty talk, pet names, name-calling.

wc. 4,5k | in this megumi wasn't born yet.

sure, you loved being toji fushiguro's wife. however, he sure knows how to get your nerves screaming. your birth control switched out for ibuprofen, holes in condoms, fucking you raw in your sleep even!

“c’mon baby.. i want a brat…”

toji drawls, so sexy and arrogant. you absolutely fume, straddling his lap as he gives you that big, scarred, smile. he has a breeding kink, and you’ll be damned if you give into it!

“let me fuck you raw again, baby…”

you glare at him defiantly, hands on your hips as you straddle his lap. “absolutely not, toji! we've been over this. i'm not ready for a kid right now.”

he just grins up at you cockily, large hands gripping your waist. “aw c'mon babe, don't be like that. you know you love feeling my cum flood your tight little pussy.” is thumbs rub circles on your lower belly. “and i know you'll look so damn hot all round and glowing with my baby growing inside you."

you scowl and try to wriggle off his lap but he holds you firmly in place, erection pressing insistently against your ass. “unhand me, you brute!” you demand haughtily, “i won't be bred against my will!”

his eyes gleam with mischief and lust, hands tightening around your waist as he chuckles deeply. “oh, but darling... i think you're enjoying this way more than you let on,” he teases, nipping lightly at your earlobe.

his fingers trail down towards your thighs, deftly slipping under the hem of your skirt to tease along your inner thigh. “besides, who said anything about doing it against your will? i just wanna see those pretty tits swell up with milk and feel our son kicking inside ya...”

with a swift movement, he flips you onto your back on the couch before you can react, pinning you beneath his heavy frame. his breath is warm against your neck as he whispers huskily, “now why don't we make ourselves comfortable while we discuss this further?”

“you're such an infuriating man!” you huff indignantly, squirming underneath him despite yourself. “fine then, if i have to do this, you better make it worth my while!”

your hands reach up to claw at his chest, nails digging into the hard muscle there as you push against him. the firmness of his body pressed against yours sends shivers through your spine. “show me what else you can do besides getting me pregnant...”

he smirks down at you, clearly pleased with your response. “is that so?” he murmurs seductively, trailing kisses along your jawline until he reaches your lips.

his tongue slips past them in a dominant sweep that leaves no room for argument. one hand moves from your hip to cup one of your breasts over the fabric of your shirt, thumb rubbing over the hardened nipple through the material.

“you've got quite the mouth on you when you're angry,” he growls approvingly before pulling away slightly to admire his handiwork— the flush spreading across your cheeks and chest. “but don’t worry baby... i plan on showing you plenty tonight.”

your breath catches in your throat as he continues his assault on your senses. you arch up into his touch, nipples pebbling harder against the palm of his hand.

“arrogant bastard...” you gasp out between moans, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity despite the heat pooling between your legs.

but it’s futile— every brush of his skin against yours sets fire to your veins and makes your heart race faster. the sight of him looming above you like this, so powerful yet so gentle at times... it drives you wild.

“just remember this next time you decide to play doctor without consent,” you manage to say through gritted teeth before biting down on your lip hard enough to taste blood. he chuckles darkly at your words, but doesn't stop what he's doing. instead, his other hand slides down from your waist to grip your thigh tightly.

“oh, i'll remember alright,” he promises huskily before leaning down to capture another kiss from you.

his free hand slips beneath your shirt to find bare skin, tracing up along your ribcage until he reaches your breast once more. this time though, there's no barrier between them— only soft flesh meeting rough fingertips.

“feel good?” he asks teasingly as he rolls your nipple between two fingers causing sparks to shoot straight down to your core. the sensation of his touch on your bare skin sends shockwaves through you. a low whimper escapes from deep within your throat as he teases your sensitive nipple.

“too good,” you admit breathlessly, tilting your head back against the cushioned couch back. your hips instinctively buck upwards seeking friction against nothing but air. the need for something— anything— to fill that empty ache gnawing at you becomes almost unbearable.

“just because i say yes doesn't mean you get to take advantage of me,” you pant out weakly, trying desperately to keep hold of whatever shred of control left over. but with each stroke of his fingers over your heated flesh, it feels less like a warning and more like an invitation into pleasureland.

a wicked grin spreads across his face at your words. “take advantage? me?” he questions mockingly, though there's a glint of amusement in his eyes.

slowly, deliberately, he starts to slide downwards— kissing and licking a path along your collarbone before dipping lower still until he reaches the swell of your breasts. “i think we both know who's really in charge here,” he rumbles against your skin, hot breath ghosting over one hardened peak, “and it ain't you.”

without warning, he takes the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucks hard— tongue swirling around it torturously slow while his hand continues its ministrations on the other side.

a sharp cry tears itself from your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you. his mouth on your breast feels incredible; too much so for comfort. your fingers tangle into his hair, holding him close against you. despite everything you’ve been saying, it’s clear that you’re losing ground fast.

“don't stop...” you breathe out heavily, unable to deny him anymore.

even though part of you knows this isn't fair— that he's manipulating things to get exactly what he wants— another part relishes in being taken care of like this. and god help you, but it feels amazing.

“oh, fuck! just please...”

he hums in approval against your breast, the vibration sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. “that's it, sweetheart,” he coaxes, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before moving to lavish attention on its twin. “just let go and enjoy it. you know you love when i take charge.”

his hands roam your body possessively, palming your curves and squeezing roughly enough to leave marks. when he finally pulls back to gaze down at you, his expression is pure sin— dark eyes blazing with hunger and dominance.

“now, where were we?” he muses, voice dripping with promise as he starts to unbutton his shirt— revealing chiseled abs and a scattering of scars. “why don't you show me just how grateful you are for my attention?” he suggests, fingers already working to undo his belt buckle.

the sight of him undressing, even partially, sends a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. your breath hitches in anticipation as he leans closer again. “like this?” you ask, reaching out to trace a finger down his chest, feeling the ridges of muscles ripple beneath your touch.

your hand dips lower, brushing against the bulge straining against his pants. a smirk curls your lips at the feel of him throbbing beneath your fingertips. “or maybe like this?” you whisper suggestively, giving his hardness a firm squeeze through the fabric. his bulge feels heavy on your palm.

he lets out a low groan at your touch, hips jerking forward involuntarily as you fondle him through his pants. “that's it, baby,” he encourages, his own hands coming up to cup your breasts again, kneading them roughly. “get me nice and hard for you.”

with a swift motion, he frees himself from his trousers, allowing his thick cock to spring forth. it stands proud and erect, the tip glistening with pre-cum. “now why don't you put that clever mouth of yours to good use?” he commands, stroking himself slowly as he watches you with hungry eyes.

“lick it clean first, then take me deep inside that sweet little throat of yours. show me how much you want to be bred by me, my love.” the sight of his impressive erection makes your mouth water. with shaky hands, you reach out to wrap your fingers around his shaft. he's warm and solid in your grasp— a tangible proof of his arousal. you can't resist leaning in to lap at the precum beading at the tip, savoring the salty-sweet flavor.

leaning forward, you press a lingering kiss onto the head of his cock before taking it into your mouth. the salty-sweet flavor explodes on your tongue as you start to suck gently. “mmm, tastes good,” you murmur appreciatively before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and sucking gently.

as you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper into your warm, wet mouth with each pass, you feel yourself getting lost in the sensation. his musky scent fills your nostrils, and the weight of him on your tongue is intoxicating.

you hollow your cheeks and suck harder, determined to please him. your hand comes up to fondle his heavy balls, rolling them in your palm as you work his shaft with increasing enthusiasm.

you bob your head back and forth, taking as much of him as possible into your warm cavernous space. each stroke sends tremors rippling through your body making it difficult to concentrate on anything else besides pleasing him right now.

a low, guttural moan escapes his lips as you take him deeper, the sound vibrating through you as you suck. his fingers tangle in your hair, guiding your movements.

“fucking hell, just like that,” he growls, thrusting shallowly into your mouth as you work him over, “such a good little cocksucker, aren't you?”

he rocks his hips in time with your bobbing head, fucking your face with increasing urgency. the sight of your lips stretched tight around his girth, the way your cheeks hollow with each suck, is almost too much to bear. “you're going to make me cum so hard down your throat if you keep this up,” he warns, voice strained with pleasure. “ready to swallow every drop like a good girl?” his pace quickens, driving himself deeper with each thrust.

your nose presses against his pubic bone as he hits the back of your throat, the pressure building with each thrust. tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity, but you don't dare pull away.

“mmph!” you gag slightly as he bottoms out, but quickly recover, relaxing your throat to take him even deeper. the vibrations of your muffled moans add to the sensations as you continue to suck and lick at his shaft.

your free hand slides up his abdomen to tease his nipples, pinching and rolling them between your fingers as you service him. the dual stimulation of your mouth and hands pushes you closer to the edge, your own arousal building rapidly.

you look up at him through tear-filled eyes, watching his face contort in pleasure as you work him over. his hips buck wildly, driven by instinct alone as you manage to take him impossibly deep. the sight of those full lips wrapped tightly around his cock, trembling from effort and pleasure— it's all too much.

“oh fuck, right there...” he grunts out, eyes locked onto yours, “that's it, swallow every inch.”

with a final powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt in your throat. he holds there for a moment longer than necessary, letting you adjust before beginning to move again.

“gonna fill you up soon,” he whispers hoarsely, his control slipping as ecstasy floods through him. his strokes become erratic as he teeters on the brink of release.

“just... just a bit more, my l-love...”

the feeling of him pulsing against your tongue is exquisite, his impending climax evident in the way his cock throbs and twitches in your mouth. you double your efforts, sucking harder and faster as you sense his orgasm approaching.

your throat constricts around him rhythmically as you swallow, milking his shaft for all it's worth. drool escapes from the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin and onto your heaving breasts.

you can feel your own arousal building to a fever pitch, your core clenching around nothing as you imagine him filling you up with his seed. the thought alone nearly pushes you over the edge. but you hold off, determined to make him come first. you want to taste his essence, to feel him pulse and twitch in your mouth as he finds his release.

with a guttural groan, he slams home one last time, holding you in place as his cock erupts in your mouth. thick ropes of hot cum coat your tongue, flooding your senses with the intense flavor of his release.

“fuuuckkk!” he bellows, eyes rolling back in bliss as he rides out his orgasm. his grip on your hair tightens, not painful but insistent, keeping you still as he empties himself into your eager mouth. wave after wave of his seed pulses across your taste buds, each spurt a testament to his pleasure. finally, with a shuddering gasp, he stills, his cock softening slightly within the confines of your lips.

“swallow it all, baby,” he orders, voice husky with satisfaction, “every last drop belongs to you now.”

you eagerly swallow every last drop of his cum, savoring the taste as it coats your tongue and slips down your throat. his seed is potent and rich, leaving an unmistakable warmth spreading throughout your belly.

reluctantly releasing him from your mouth, you sit back on your heels, panting heavily. your lips are swollen and bruised from their vigorous use, a satisfied smile curving them despite the discomfort.

you reach up to wipe away some of the drool trickling down your chin, smearing it over your cleavage instead. looking up at him through half-lidded eyes filled with lust and satisfaction, “did i do okay?”

he looks down at you, chest heaving with each breath as he fights to regain his composure. a satisfied smirk plays on his lips as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and disheveled.

“you always did, baby,” he replies, voice rough with residual pleasure, “best damn blowjob i've ever had.” he reaches out to run a finger along your jawline, tracing the path of a single tear that has managed to escape. his touch is surprisingly gentle given the intensity of what just transpired.

“but we're not done yet,“ he adds with a predatory gleam in his eye, “it's my turn to breed you now.” without waiting for further response, he pulls you towards him until you're straddling his lap once more. his cock is already starting to stir again, eager for another round. you wrap your arms around him, smiling so beautifully just like how you are, his sweet, sweet little wife.

feeling your arms encircle him, toji lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. his hands roam over your body, taking delight in the softness of your skin beneath his calloused palms.

“i'm glad you're mine,” he murmurs into your ear, nipping gently at the lobe, “i plan on making you feel very well taken care of.” his hands slide lower, pulling your hips flush against his growing erection. the sensation makes him groan in anticipation.

“so let's get started, shall we?”

you giggle softly, leaning in to press your lips to his in a tender kiss. as you pull back, you whisper, “i love being yours, toji. show me how much.” emboldened by your words, you begin to grind against him, your slick heat coating his length through the fabric of your underwear. the friction sends sparks of pleasure coursing through you, stoking the flames of desire even higher.

he captures your lips again in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth. when you break apart, panting, he grips your hips firmly and begins to rock you against him, the motion deliberate and slow.

“that's it, ride my cock,” he commands, voice thick with need, “let me feel that sweet pussy of yours rubbing against me.” his hands slide under your shirt, palming your breasts roughly as he continues to grind you against his hardness. the sensation is maddening, each pass sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

“fuck, you're soaked,” he growls, breaking the kiss to trail biting kisses down your neck, “can't wait to bury myself inside you and fill you up.”

you moan loudly, the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your clit driving you wild. you arch your back, pushing your breasts further into his grasp as he tweaks and rolls your sensitive nipples. you can hardly stand it anymore; the need to have him inside you is overwhelming. you start to move faster against him, desperate for more contact.

“oh god, toji,” you whimper, looking into his eyes, “please, i need you... need you to fuck me.”

hearing your plea, toji's restraint snaps. with a swift movement, he stands up, carrying you effortlessly in his arms. he strides towards the bed, laying you down upon it with surprising gentleness considering the urgency of his actions.

“you'll get exactly what you ask for,” he promises, yanking down your panties with a rough tug. his gaze falls upon your glistening folds, wet and ready for him.

positioning himself between your thighs, he lines up his throbbing member at your entrance. without another word, he plunges deep inside you, stretching and filling you completely. “fucking perfect,” he grunts out, beginning to set a punishing pace. each thrust drives him deeper, hitting spots within you that make stars burst behind your eyelids.

a loud cry tears itself from your throat as he fills you entirely, stretching your walls deliciously. the sensation is overwhelming, causing your entire body to shake.

“oh, t-toji, baby..” you plead desperately, wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him even deeper if possible. every stroke hits just right, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails scratching lightly over his skin as you cling to him for support. you can't help but buck up to meet each of his powerful thrusts, desperate to take everything he offers.

he growls in approval, loving the way you claw at him as he pounds into your willing body. the sound of your cries and the sight of your breasts bouncing with each forceful thrust only spur him on.

“look at me,” he demands, his voice thick with lust, “want to see those pretty eyes when i breed you.” his hands grip your hips tightly, anchoring you to him while he drives into you mercilessly. the slap of flesh echoes around the room, punctuating the symphony of moans and groans.

as he watches your face contort with pleasure, toji leans down to capture a nipple between his teeth, nibbling harshly before soothing it with a flick of his tongue. you obey instantly, meeting his gaze with wide, lust-filled eyes. the combination of his commanding presence and the raw pleasure he's giving you leaves you breathless.

“oh fuck, toji...” your voice trails off into a series of broken whimpers as he teases your nipple. the dual sensations of his cock pounding into you and his teeth grazing your sensitive bud send shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your veins.

your inner walls clench around him involuntarily, trying to milk him for all he's worth. but it's clear that you're far from finished; there's still so much more you want from this dominant man.

feeling your walls flutter around him, toji can't hold back a satisfied grunt. he releases your breast with a pop, watching as a bead of blood appears where he'd been sucking. “good girl,” he praises, slapping your thigh lightly for emphasis, “keep coming for me.”

with renewed vigor, he starts slamming into you harder than before. each thrust goes deeper than the last, aimed directly at that spot inside you that makes stars dance across your vision. the bed creaks under their combined weight as he picks up speed, driven by pure instinct and carnal desire.

the sharp sting of pain from his bite quickly gives way to intense pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly. your body bows off the mattress with each brutal thrust, helpless to resist the onslaught of sensation.

“o-oh god, oh god!“ you whimpering, your voice hoarse from crying out in ecstasy. your mind blanks, consumed solely by the primal urge to be filled, claimed, bred. you lock your ankles behind his back, using every ounce of strength to pull him impossibly deeper. your hips rise to meet his, creating a frenzied rhythm that threatens to shatter you completely.

the feeling of you wrapping yourself around him, urging him on, pushes roji closer to the edge. he feels your body tensing beneath him, signaling that you’re nearing your climax. “that's it,” he encourages through gritted teeth, “come for me, show me how much you love being fucked by your husband.”

his thrusts become erratic as he chases his own release. the thought of filling you with his seed fuels his arousal further. “going to breed you so good,” he vows before capturing your lips once more in a bruising kiss. the intensity of his words coupled with the relentless pace of his thrusts sends you spiraling into oblivion. a scream rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave.

“i'm cumming!“ you cry out, your body convulsing around his cock as waves of pleasure rip through you. your juices coat his shaft, slickening the path for him to find his own release. your inner muscles clench and unclench rhythmically, milking him for all he’s worth. you can barely form coherent thoughts; all that remains is raw, animalistic pleasure.

feeling your pussy spasm around him triggers toji's own climax. with a guttural roar, he buries himself to the hilt and unleashes a torrent of hot semen deep inside you. “take it all, my wife,” he growls, his hips jerking erratically as he pumps you full of his essence. the sensation of his cum flooding your womb sends shivers down his spine.”

as the final pulses of his orgasm subside, toji collapses onto you, his heavy chest heaving against your own. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, marking you with gentle bites and whispers of praise. panting heavily, you bask in the afterglow of your intense coupling. feeling toji's warm seed fill you to the brim brings a sense of satisfaction and completion.

“handsome,” you murmur contentedly, running your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. embracing the intimacy of the moment, you wrap your arms around him, holding him close as he recovers. your bodies remain joined, the evidence of his claim still dripping from your entwined forms.

toji hums in pleasure at your touch, nuzzling deeper into your embrace. he presses a soft kiss to your pulse point, savoring the taste of your skin.

“mmm, you're beautiful too, the most beautiful,” he murmurs, slowly rolling you to your sides. even in this position, he remains buried inside you, his softening cock still nestled in your warmth. gently, he begins to rock against you, stirring the mix of his cum and your juices within your shared depths. he action sends pleasant tingles through both of you, prolonging the intimate connection.

“this was perfect,” he says, his voice low and satisfied, “just what we both needed.”

your body responds eagerly to his movements, each subtle shift reigniting the embers of pleasure within you. you let out a blissful sigh, enjoying the lazy rhythm you've fallen into. “it was...more than perfect,” you agree, a smile curving your lips despite the exhaustion settling in. the tender affection mixed with the lingering heat of your lovemaking leaves you feeling cherished and utterly fulfilled.

as the minutes stretch on, you find yourself reluctant to break away from this sweet, languid closeness. it's moments like these that make you realize just how deeply you adore your husband— in every way imaginable.

toji gazes at you adoringly, taking in the blissful expression on your face. he reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch feather-light and reverent.

“i love seeing you like this,” he confesses softly, “satisfied and happy in my arms.” he pauses, his expression turning thoughtful. “i think it's time we started planning our family, don't you? we could have a few more little ones running around, keeping us busy and on our toes.”

the suggestion is made with a playful glint in his eye, but there's an underlying seriousness to his words. toji wants to build a life filled with love, passion, and children— and he intends to start that process soon. at the mention of starting a family, your heart swells with joy. the idea of carrying another child conceived in such passionate, loving circumstances fills you with excitement.

“you know i've always wanted that,” you reply, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips, “a house full of laughter and love...and maybe some mischief too, maybe later,”

the prospect of growing their family together stirs something deep within you. not just physical attraction, but emotional commitment— a bond forged not only between lovers but also parents-to-be. “but for now,” you continue, tracing idle patterns on his chest, “let's just enjoy this moment. our private paradise.”

hearing your agreement, toji smirks, his eyes sparkling with delight. he captures your wandering hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss.

“a private paradise sounds ideal,” he agrees, nipping gently at your fingertips, “but i suppose we should get moving eventually.” despite his words, there's no urgency in his tone. Instead, he seems content to simply stay here with you— lost in each other's company until reality comes knocking.

“but first,” he adds, pulling you closer until your breasts press against his chest, “i need to make sure you're thoroughly satisfied.”

a soft chuckle escapes your lips at his declaration. the idea of being thoroughly satisfied by your husband is quite appealing indeed. “oh, i think i am,” you purr, rubbing your thighs together to alleviate the residual ache left by their earlier activities, “but if you insist...“

you arch your back slightly, pressing even harder against him. the sensation of his semi-hard member still nestled inside you sends delightful sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. “just one more round?” you tease, batting your eyelashes playfully.

toji's smirk widens at your teasing words, his dark eyes gleaming with lustful intent. he rolls you onto your back, positioning himself above you with a predatory grace.

“one more round it is then,” he declares, beginning to move again, leaning closer to kiss your forehead. his renewed thrusts are slow and deliberate, designed to draw out every last drop of pleasure from both of you.

each stroke sends jolts of pleasure radiating throughout your body. the combination of his weight pressing down on you and the steady rhythm of his hips driving into yours creates an intoxicating blend of sensations.

“and when we're done,” he promises huskily, “we'll start planning our future...together.”

[wildestdreamsblog]

When you tried to move on from them

Pairing: Maknae line x Reader

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

Jimin

“Go home, Jimin,” you ordered in a hard tone. You came home from a date only to see him standing in front of your door, clearly waiting for you. You heard him sniffed as he looked up at you, his pouty lips shaking.

“W-were you on a date?”

You looked at him dead in the eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

“B-but, I love you,” he pleaded at you, tears falling from his eyes, the same eyes you thought was the most beautiful.

“Apparently, not enough to stay loyal to me,” you replied dryly before opening your door. You were about to slam the door to his face when he pushed the door, careful not to hurt you. Jimin had always been strong. His built made him looked harmless, but you saw the muscles in his body, felt how strong he was on the nights he couldn’t be gentle as he made love to you.

So it came to no surprise to see him easily stopping the door with only his one hand.

“If you’re trying to make me jealous, stop it. You don’t want to see me jealous, baby. I don’t know what I will do if you ever look at another man again,” he said in an emotionless voice, his face losing the sadness it had mere moments ago. In its place was a serious, yet terrifying expression.

You should have been scared.

“Go home, Jimin.”

Why would you listen to him? You weren’t cheating on him. He did. And now you were moving on, he had no right to go to you and cry as though he wasn’t the reason why you had to start over again.

But you should not have underestimated his obsession for you.

“Mom!” You called out as you entered her home. She hadn’t been responsive of your calls for days that you decided to finally visit her. She normally didn’t answer calls, too busy with her own group of friends in the neighborhood that at first it didn’t bother you. But you felt that this was something different.

What alleviated your fears was seeing the lights turned on in the house, the sound of someone cooking in the kitchen made you shook your head. Perhaps, you had been watching too much murder mysteries. “Why weren’t you answering my calls…” you trailed off when your ex-boyfriend, Jimin, stepped out of the kitchen.

“Baby, you’re home!” He beamed at you, walking around the dining table to go to you when you stepped back.

“W-what are you doing here? Where’s my mom?”

He smiled in that angelic way of his, one that made you say yes to him before. But now, it looked sinister. Now, it looked wrong.

“She’s��somewhere.”

“What did you do?” You whispered as you felt the wall behind your back. You had nowhere else to go and he knew it. “J-Jimin please-“

“Shh,” he gently shushed you before caressing your face. God, he missed your face. He missed your heat. He missed you.

He craved you.

“She’s safe, baby. Do you want to go to her?”

You could only nod.

He smiled at you, “We’ll go to her, baby. As long as you’re a good girl.”

It was obvious. This was a threat, a barely concealed threat. It was like Park Jimin, a devil wrapped in an angelic face.

“Will you be my good girl once again?”

Your nod cemented your fate.

Taehyung

“Let go of me!” You shouted at the man carrying you over his shoulder. “Unhand me, you brute!” You were trashing your legs around, beating your fists against his broad back, yet Taehyung kept walking. His incessant need and despair for you made him determined to finally make his move, no matter how small it was.

Really. It was supposed to be a little thing, just something to see and talk to you. After all, it had been almost a month of you evading and ignoring him. Really, he was supposed to be calmed.

He really was.

But you just had to go and date some other man who could not even give you everything you wanted. And so, Taehyung saw red. If it weren’t for you wrapping your arms around him, he would have beaten the undeserving man to death. But Taehyung was too touch starved, too desperate of you that one touch of you managed to clear the haze in his mind.

He was quiet as he walked to his fancy car. He deposited you as gently as he could on the front seat, never minding your attacks on him as he fastened your seatbelt. The image of you seating in front of someone else that wasn’t him, the image of you holding someone else’s hand unleashed the barely restrained beast he had inside him. One that you only managed to peak at during the times when he slipped.

“Calm down or I’m going back there to finish what I started,” his deep voice was terrifying, yet the message he partook made you froze. The Taehyung you knew was a gentle soul, someone who would never even kill a fly, someone who took his time to appreciate flowers. This was not him.

But really, did you ever know him? The real him?

You watched in bated breath as he got in the car, your eyes wide as you watched him movements. How could he be so calm as though he didn’t beat someone? As though he wasn’t a punch away from almost killing him?

He terrified you now, a feeling you were unfamiliar with when you were still with him. Would he hurt you? Would he be too uncontrollable that he would lay his hands on you?

Taehyung took a calming breath as he drove away. He could finally feel peace now that you were near. He could finally feel the beast inside him retreating, making him feel human again.

“W-where are you taking me?” Your voice trembled. He was driving calmly with one hand, the other gripping your hand despite your obvious resistance.

“Where else?” He flashed you his sweet smile, his eyes leaving the road for a second to look at you. He was utterly handsome, but his eyes were frightening. “To our new home.”

“W-we broke up-“

“We just had a small fight, princess. That’s all,” he cut you off in a hard voice, signifying that this was the end of discussion.

“It was not a small fight and you know it! You cheated on me in that house-“

You felt his hand squeezed yours for a moment before running his thumb on it. “That’s why I bought us a new house, princess. It’s in a good neighborhood, close to good schools. And our house has more rooms so when we finally have a child, we would be ready.”

Your jaw slackened at his delusional words. Child? A house? School? Taehyung was certifiably insane, you were certain now. He brought your clasped hand to his lips, looking at you with all the love he felt before placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

“We will never be apart again, princess. I promise you that.”

Jungkook

It wasn’t easy leaving Jungkook. But hiding from him proved to be a challenge. If you thought he was bad when Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi had to hold him back just so you could leave, he was worse now. After that fateful day when Yoongi managed to stop the golden maknae by some divine intervention, you went straight to your best friend’s house, seeking refuge from the chaos that was your life. You couldn’t go to your parents’ house because you knew he’d immediately go there. You couldn’t go to your and his apartment because that would be similar to walking straight into a lion’s den.

You rationalized that you wouldn’t hide forever, that it was just now because you couldn’t face him. Not when he betrayed you. Not when the image of that girl sucking him off was still ever so present in your mind. Not when how he reacted terrified you.

But days turned into weeks. And his desperation for you only seemed to multiply, his messages and calls seemed more frequent. In his twisted head, you were still his and what happened was merely a bump in your road. And if you were his, didn’t he deserve to know where you were? What you were doing? Who you were with?

You sighed in irritation as you reject yet another of his calls. Couldn’t he take a hint?!

“I’m sorry about that,” you said apologetically to your date.

He merely smiled before putting down the glass of wine. He was your colleague, a friend of yours before you even dated Jungkook. He was kind and simple, exactly what you needed right now. He waved off your apology, “Clingy ex?” He asked jokingly.

“Something like that,” you mumbled.

A date turned into two, which turned into more.

It felt nice to go out there and date simply without any restrictions that came with dating an idol. Perhaps, your breakup was a blessing. But to Jungkook, it was a curse.

It was especially a curse now as he looked at your social media. You were tagged by some asshole on a picture of you drinking wine, your eyes looking at the camera and a small smile on your lips.

Was that it? As he was breaking down, you were out there trying to forget him? Trying to move on from him? As if he would let you?

As though he would go down without a fight?

Well, if you thought he would let you slipped from his grasp that easily, if you thought he wouldn’t die first before letting you go, you were so fucking wrong.

It was midnight when your phone kept ringing. And when you finally looked at your notifications, your whole world collapsed before your very eyes.

Jungkook just posted a picture on his social media of you and him on the day he proposed to you. You were proudly showing off your ring to the camera as he looked at you with all the love in the world.

God, what had he done?

You could feel your heart beat louder, drumming against your bones. You could feel the walls closing in on you. You couldn’t breathe just thinking about what would happen to you now that the whole world knew your face, now that the whole world thought of you as his. You were certain you couldn’t leave the apartment, that you couldn’t go to work with all the reporters and fans that would be flocking to you.

Jeon Jungkook, in a snap of his finger, confiscated your freedom.

You didn’t waste anytime. You called him immediately as you walked around your apartment, distressed apparent in your face. You thought he wouldn’t answer, you thought he would be petty. But not a second later, you heard his voice.

“Hi, my love. Miss me?”

“How dare you, Jungkook! How dare you-“

“No. How dare you date someone else? It was a wrong move, my love.”

“We broke up!”

“Did we?” He pondered, his voice deep. If you could see him now, you would be terrified of him. “The whole world now knows we’re engaged, my love. You can no longer run away from me.”

Jungkook smiled for the first time in more than a month. Finally, you would be back in his arms. You had to because he left you with no choice. This time though, he wouldn’t let you leave.

Checkmate.

He had you cornered.

You knew he had you cornered.

[unholyhelbig]

hold on can we have more firecrest?

Title: Firecrest (Part 3/???)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Sub/dom dynamics, strap-on, nipple play, nipple clamps, Slight edging (idk I don't write smut often), horrible parenting, talks about neglect, horrible grammar

[A/n: For some reason, this is the only story that I can sit down long enough to write, so let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Her apartment was located above a pizza shop that operated well into the early morning hours. You’d never seen in truly closed but had only been here twice before. There was the constant acidic scent of tomato sauce that somehow bred comfort.

A man was hunched on the curb, folding a slice of dripping pie at an angle that covered his face in the greasy discharge. He had mumbled something to you around mouthfuls of cheese and dough, nodding vaguely at the cement block that propped open the door to the units.

You thanked him with a nod and slid into the air-conditioned corridor. The coolness seemed to bring clarity with it, but you didn’t stop your legs from sorely dragging you up the steps towards the unit. Why were you here? Kate Bishop was not your girlfriend. Not really.

She was cocky, and clumsy, and the object of your fathers desired attentions. For all intents and purposes, she should be your worst enemy. The bane of your existence, and in some moments, she was. But right now you swallowed your pride and realized that you needed her. Even if she didn’t need you.

You were entirely confident that Kate would turn you away. It was late. You’d spent most of the day shut-in your own apartment; the blinds drawn and mindless movies bathing you in a blue glow. You hadn’t eaten, or showered, or done anything that was considered productive aside from icing your knee with a bag of peas.

When you knocked, you hadn’t expected a muffled bark as an answer. Maybe you had the wrong apartment, or at least, you thought you did until you heard Kate’s tender admonishing. Three deadbolts clicked and clacked until the door was swung open.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of her. Kate’s hand gripped the doorframe, her muscular frame hugged by a tank-top and a pair of purple boxer shorts with little arrows sprinkled across the fabric. You could see her abdominal muscles as she steadied her breath. Her cheeks were tinted a light red.

You’d seen that look before. It was arousal. The sweet smell of sex was emanating from her, a light sheen of sweat catching the overhead lights with each inhale. She panted out “Hi,”

“I’m sorry,” You shook your head, blinking a few times “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, I can just-“

When you attempted to take a step back, her hand darted out and grabbed onto a fistful of fabric, pulling you out of the hallway by your shirt. You dumbly allowed her to manhandle you and stumbled into her space before she closed the heavy oak door.

“No, you’re fine I’m… alone.”

You lifted an eyebrow, and she gave you a nervous smile, unhanding you and wiping her palm on the front of her own shirt. You opened your mouth to rib her (just a little) but caught the sound of nails clicking against linoleum. A smile, a genuine one, spread across your lips.

A blur of fur, golden and soft, failed to hide excitement as a dog clomped towards you. He stopped a little short, sliding on the floor and barreling into your legs. You knelt down and scratched behind the marvelous creatures ears, noting that he was a bit of a misfit like you, pirated and plagued with one eye.

He licked your face generously and you giggled. Actually giggled, because you had forgotten the audience in the room. Suddenly screwing your face back into it’s signature scowl and flicking your eyes back up to Kate. She bit the side of her hand to hide her own grin.

“I thought you said you were alone, Bishop.”

“Oh, this free-loader? Lucky doesn’t pay rent, so he doesn’t count.”

“Lucky,” You breathed, carding your fingers through his fur. He wiggled with excitement, his tail pounding against the floor as he shoved his head under your chin, nudging you to get closer than he already had. “You’re a good boy, I bet. Don’t listen to your mean old landlord.”

When you stood, much to Lucky’s dismay, Kate was staring at you with a starry look in her eyes. You narrowed your own, crossing your arms over your chest. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’ve just never seen you like that.”

“Like what?”

“Soft.”

You scoffed indignantly “I am not soft!”

She hummed dismissively and padded across the room until she reached her kitchen. Kate popped the fridge open and that was enough of a call for Lucky to abandon you (maybe he was a traitor) and wait expectantly for something to drop. Nothing did, and Kate squeezed the tip of an orange juice container before chugging diligently from the carton.

Kate was captivating like this. You’d seen her in many settings, but relaxed like this, was not one of them. Her hair was slightly muffed and she was mostly bare. The cold of the room made it hard for you not to notice the way her chest perked up under the thin fabric of her shirt.

You were in deep, down bad. Not having been sexually satisfied by anything more than your fingers since the little arson incident. So, you cleared your throat and sidled up to the other end of the kitchen island. At least there was that separating the two of you. She set the carton down and leaned forward, pushing her breasts out.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, y/n?”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet her eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing, and the smirk on her face eluded to that. It was a subtle shift, from being embarrassed about her current state, to milking the arrogance.

“Nothing I just… was restless, I guess. Didn’t want to be alone.”

Her expression softened “Did something happen?”

You shook your head. She didn’t need to know about Clint and his valiant effort to protect the one he really cared for. It would throw her into turmoil, threaten something she had worked so hard for. You may resent your father, but you were a far cry from resenting Kate.

“You’re pent up, then?”

“Excuse me?”

She shrugged her shoulders and took another long gulp of orange juice. You felt your mouth dry as her throat worked at the drink. Even with the carton blocking her expression, you could see that she was smirking. Her eyes gave her away, and she didn’t break contact with you for a single moment before pulling it away, and predictably throwing it into the trashcan with accuracy.

“We could go upstairs,”

Kate closed the distance between the both of you. Your skin felt like it was on fire, arousal shooting straight from your gut the second you could smell the dangerous mix of wintergreen and citrus on her breath. She had a few inches on you, her arm snaking around your mid-section. She pulled you flush against her with a quickness that took your breath.

“That is, if you promise to not to get fire-happy.” Her slender fingers started to play with the silver necklace hanging between your clavicle. “I just repainted after the last one.”

“The last one?”

Kate didn’t’ answer you, instead she pressed her lips against yours, her tongue suddenly exploring your mouth. There was a sour, orange taste to her kiss and you sighed into it, seemingly melting into the archer. Hell- you could ask her about the fire after your mind stopped fogging.

There was a something so alluring about Kate Bishop that made your mind shut-off. You’d do anything and everything she said and that was apparent from the first time the two of you had laid together. She had you on your knees in a matter of minutes, completely stripped nude of your own accord. Her fingers were between your legs and nothing else mattered. You knew that she would take care of you, and you her.  

She pulled back and nudged her nose with yours. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” You whispered, voice tinged with lust.

A yelp escaped you when she hauled you up into her arms. Her hands grasped at your ass, holding you in place as you encircled her hips. You knew Kate was strong, but you were a rock yourself. She seemed to hold you effortlessly, not looking where she was going as she ascended the steps and nipped sloppily at your neck.

Stars swallowed you, heart pounding in your chest. You’d been here before, yes, mostly to drop off something for Eleanors fundraisers, or to return a gym bag that was left behind. They were short interactions that certainly never led to the bedroom.

For all of her haste, Kate set you down gently on her comforter. It smelled overwhelmingly like her. There was something digging into your spine, and you squirmed, propping yourself up on your elbow and producing the silicone vibrator that had been keeping Kate company. Of course, it was purple.

“Seriously?”

“Shut up,” she husked, snatching it from you and throwing it down onto the carpeted floor. “I have better toys than that.”

That did effectively silence you, blush coloring your cheeks. She was smiling down wolfishly at you, so much so, that an attractive growl that bordered human escaped her. You’d never heard a more attractive noise following a statement so bold. Desperately you craned your neck and kissed her, hard.

Her fingers were cold, goosebumps rising against your skin as she moved them under your shirt and scratched down your ribs. You desperately moaned into her mouth and she swallowed the sound effortlessly. Her hand had found your right breast, and you twitched as her thumb brushed over the sensitive bud.

“What,” You snarled into her mouth, each one of her exhales splaying against your cheek. “Kind of toys?”

A look of apprehension seemed to cross her face. The archer was completely on top of you, grinding down against your body in a motion that gave way to the desperation that you felt. Both of her hands were planted on either side of you, holding herself up.

Kate had suddenly switched back to her bashful self, and while the expression was cute, you were thoroughly worked up. You tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and spoke softly. “Hey, you aren’t going to break me, okay? If I’m uncomfortable with something, I’ll tell you.”

“I know it’s just,” she paused, frowned in almost a pout before a look of finality crossed her face. “what if I want to break you?”

While you were rendered silent, you felt a pang of arousal swim to your gut. A noise had pushed past your lips. Something that was so desperate, you weren’t sure it even came from you. Here was this girl, this person that you’d wanted to beat your entire life, and she had you pinned beneath her.

“Kate, I think I’ll physically die if you don’t take what you want, and fuck me until I’m dumb.” You arched yourself from the bed, stopping just short of pressing your lips to hers. You murmured against her. “Use me.”

That vicious spark returned to her eyes and she was suddenly scrambling off of you. For a moment, you were worried that you’d scared her off, but she nearly tripped over her discarded combat boots trying to get to her walk in closet. You could hear things clanging, falling over, and being sent across the room.

“Just, hold on! Don’t go anywhere!” softer, mumbled with a poisonous determination “I know it’s here somewhere.”

When she remerged, she was out of breath and leaning suavely against the door. The bulge that pressed against the opening of her boxers, you had seen before, many times. Kate had never used a strap on you before. Most of your intimate interactions were isolated to storage closets, or locker room showers. Her’s, of course, was bigger than you expected, and the same royal purple as the rest of her personality.

She held something in her right hand, something you had, of course, seen while your Bluetooth headphones were on and saving you the embarrassment of playing porn out loud. A silver chain that ended in crocodile clamps on each side. Black rubber tipped each clip for comfort. A bigger silver ring sat comfortably in the middle, the perfect size to wrap two fingers around and tug.

“Huh,” you let the corner of your lip quirk up affectionately.

“Oh god, you hate it.”

“No, no. I didn’t say that. Just surprised is all.” You sat up entirely, feeling your pulse point at your core. You were still much too clothed for your liking. They started to itch against your skin. You were going to lose it if she didn’t’ rip them off soon. “Impressed, actually.”

She lifted an eyebrow at you and once against closed the distance. She towered over you completely, standing between your legs in the same exact way she had at the gym. You couldn’t stop your mind from wandering dangerously to how she’d feel inside of you, stretching you.

“We should have a safe word,” She purred, brushing her hand against your cheek. “You need to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Okay, what do you suggest?”

She smiled “Flame-on”

You groaned and buried your nose in the warmth of her neck. You could feel the vibration of her glorious laugh and the quiet it brought you was unmatched. You knew you were fucked, but it was easier to ignore the looming thoughts of something more in exchange for this.

“Fine, fine. Not a fan of Johnny Storm, then?” You pulled back and leveled her with a glare. You’d never met the man and frankly despised the notation that everyone with pyrotechnic powers knew one another “How about red?”

Contemplating didn’t take long. It was a simple color that reminded you of stop. You didn’t want to tell Kate that most of your forays into the depths of the internet involved the very items that she held in her hands. This seemed to be new for both of you. Red was good. Red was comfortable.

“I’m all yours,” You wrapped your arms around her waist, her stomach level with your eyes. You peered up at her, knowing that they glowed with your own arousal. “Do what you want with me.”

“Take off your shirt.” She snarled, suddenly switching back to that dominant woman who had carried you up here. Now that the rules were set, you were confident that she wouldn’t be edging into her demure nature anytime soon. “I want to see what’s mine.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. Kate had seen you naked before, but each time, she got a misty look in her eyes that spurred you on. She seemed to admire the expanses of skin that she could nip at, and soothe with her tongue. The burn scars that never quite healed. All of you, she found beautiful.

Her stare moved down to your front-latching bra, head tilting to the side. “Wow. Were you expecting something to happen tonight, slut?”

The word sent shivers down your spine, especially when they came from her mouth. Kate straddled you then, her weight familiar. You moved to encircle her, hug her close, but her hand splayed against your chest and held you there. “No touching. I’m in control tonight.”

You nodded, too desperately for your liking. Her fingers dragged down to the latch and unhooked it. The familiar pressure was instantly relieved and Kate’s eyes hungrily devoured your breasts. You knew she had a thing for them- always had- which is why the shock wasn’t so visceral when it came to the clamps.

Kate’s strap was aligned with your stomach, but, she didn’t seem to notice how intimidating her length was. Her mouth dropped to your breasts and a content sigh escaped you. Your hands itched to run against her, but that would just delay the pleasure that she offered.

Her tongue expertly circled one nipple, while she teased the other between her forefinger and thumb. You arched towards her and gasped as her teeth scraped against the sensitive area. In a matter of seconds, she had you writhing under her, a complete mess.

“God, you’re desperate.” She hummed against you. “I’ve barely touched you, baby.”

You were well aware of that. An embarrassed flush crept across your neck. Normally, you wouldn’t let Kate have the satisfaction. But right now, you would let Kate have anything she wanted. The chain made a soft noise. You shuddered as it’s chilled surface was dragged between the center of your breasts.

You took a deep breath, Kate’s stare dominant, but questioning all the same. You were both well-aware that this was on the tamer side of things. But you’d never let someone have full control before, including her. She was taking this slow, and it was something you appreciated. Something you needed right now.

When the first clamp was placed, you couldn’t help the shudder that rocked through you. It was an odd, pinching sensation that was soon replaced with a bolt of pleasure. Kate’s thumb brushed lightly against your other nipple, not letting up on it’s torment. She clamped the second one on and this time, a heated groan left you.

“Fuck,” She gripped your sides, moving back to get a good look “You look so beautiful like this.”

Her hands moved down to your hips and in a swift, possessive, movement she had you flipped onto your back. She unbuttoned your pants and started to slide them down your legs. You were impossibly wet, having soaked through your underwear. If you prayed that Kate wouldn’t notice, your hopes were dashed by her cocksure smile.

“Katie,” You whined, the cold air hitting your legs just seconds after she had discarded your jeans. Your fingers brushed against her side, instantly conjuring goosebumps. “Please,”

She hissed through clenched teeth, grabbing both of your hands and pinning them above your head with one, strong grip. When she pressed the lower half of her body down on top of you, you felt the pressure of the much-too-intimidating strap.

“I said no touching, remember?” She lilted her head, took the slack of the chain and twirled it around her finger “I would hate to have to punish you, pet.”

You wouldn’t. There were a few seconds where you contemplated testing your luck, being a brat, just to see if you could get a rise out of her. But she pulled the thin strip of fabric covering your core to the side, dipping her finger into your heat.

“Oh, fuck.” You arched your back off the bed. “Kate, I’m… I need you inside of me.”

You reveled in the way a chill ran through her, her grip on your hands slackening just a moment before it tightened. “Just checking to see how ready you are.”

Beyond. You nearly folded when you felt her guide the cool tip of the strap against your entrance. It’s head pushed the smallest bit into you. Truthfully, you had never taken something this big. But you were nothing, if not determined.

Kate pushed her full length into you in a soft motion, all the while tugging at the center of the chain. The combination of sensations brought a stream of expletives that you hadn’t used in years. Both of you seemed to forget about Kate’s rule about not touching.

She pumped in and out of you, keeping a steady pressure on the chain. Your moans seemed to synch, her overwhelming warmth increasing the building peaks of your core. You hugged her as close as you could, hands splayed against her back.

“Shit, you’re so tight, baby.” She growled into your ear, “You take me so well. Such a good girl, taking everything I give you.”

She shifted, hitting your g-spot with ferocity. Each thrust pushing a satisfied moan from your lips. Between each one, you exhaled “I’m going to come, shit, Katie.”

“Not yet. Not until I give you permission.”

She was getting close, you could feel the subtle tightening of her stomach. Kate had a tendency to bury her face in the small of your neck when the tension built like this. Two more even pushes and her nose was against your throat, feeling the pulse point that quickened with each passing moment.

“Come for me, you desperate, little slut.”

Again, she pulled on the chains, distinct pleasure rushing through you. You tightened around her, the moans becoming more desperate. Kate came with you, breathing heavy, mewling against your throat. You could feel her heart against your chest, could feel the fire brewing just below your fingertips. You were true to your word, however, and kept your promise. No arson.

A whimper escaped you when Kate unclipped the clamps, still inside you. Feeling returned to your nipples with a blast of pleasurable pain followed by a wave of warmth. She smirked at you, face red and hair messed up. She sat perfectly on your hips, you still twitched around her.

“Jesus, y/n.” Kate panted, leaning down and kissing you sweetly. You eagerly returned it, still able to taste the citrus on her tongue. “Who knew you were a little freak?”

Her hand pressed down on your stomach with the slightest pressure as she pulled out of you with a wet noise. She landed next to you, trying to catch her breath. You found yourself laughing, fully sated, fully pleasured.

“That? It was nothing.” She gave you a mock frown, and you backtracked “Expertly done, and very, very hot. But it’ll take more than that to break me.”

“Who said I was done?” Kate smiled lazily at you, “I’m just going to… rest my eyes for a second. Get ready for the second pounding of your life.”

You watched as her eyes slowly closed, a look of pure bliss on her face. It was a thing of beauty, one that you could get used to. She could sleep anywhere, falling into unconsciousness with a graceful ease that you lacked.

She’d hug her gym bag close as a pillow under the florescent lights of the convention centers you frequented in childhood. She’d curl up under a tree when you both attended university together, often getting patterns burned into her skin, easy to make fun of.

It was always endearing, but it settled you with an admired warmth right now. You easily shifted her until she was laying comfortably, pulling her duvet up to her chin. Kate made a small noise at the back of her throat and curled into a deeper slumber.

God. You were so fucked.

The sun flitted the industrial windows in Kate’s apartment that you hadn’t noticed before. They were dusty with time, but still allowed a considerable amount of light. The whir of a fan in the corner lulled you into a peaceful afterglow.

Sleep didn’t come easily for you. Sometimes, you would drift into a half-state of lucidness on the sofa, the movie you put on as some form of noise droned on and you’d always startle awake with a kink in your neck and a strange tiredness clinging to you.

Your therapist had suggested practicing healthy sleeping habits. Only use the bed for sleep, don’t read there, don’t doom-scroll on your phone. You were meant to utilize the exhaustion in your bones to your benefit. And for the first few nights, it had worked.

But, then the nightmares that often accompanied the rem cycle started to push to the forefront of your mind. The same terror on your mothers face as a cobalt blue clouded your vision. It was suffocating, and the sharp burning in your chest would bring you back to the inky black, too-cold, room.

A sleepy groan escaped you, pressing your face closer into the warmth that you embraced. Kate lacked her signature scent, and she seemed… furrier than usual. You didn’t want to pry your eyes open yet. You didn’t want the lazy morning to end with the harsh reality of feelings you were less than enthusiastic to explore.

It took you three more seconds of pressing your nose into something that smelled suspiciously like dog, to realize that’s exactly what it was.

Lucky was fast asleep, pressed flush against you over the duvet that you had shimmied under at some point in the night. He was a buffer between you and the empty half of the bed. You figured Kate was an early riser, or something had stirred her. She spooked easily. You hoped desperately that it wasn’t you who had scared her.

She was rifling around in the closet. Your hand splayed against golden fur, you absently ran you fingers through it. He was a lazy dog, and it was something you appreciated. Both of you watched with unimpressed eyes as she emerged, not expecting you to be awake.

Kate smiled at you, and then seemed to realize that it was effortless, because it took a few moments for her to school her features into something stoic. She was still wearing her boxer shorts and tank-top from last night. You fought back a frown. Kate had gotten you naked without even trying. Your own clothes were scattered across the room.

“Promise you won’t freak out?”

You propped yourself up on your elbow. Lucky huffed in annoyance. “I can’t promise that”

She gave you a nervous look and tossed a sweatshirt towards you. The fabric was soft, and it was her signature purple color, and what she was rifling around the closet for. You felt your cheeks heat up, holding the cool garment flush against you.

“Clint is on his way,”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, oh my god.”

Pretending to be anything more than friends with benefits sounded good on paper. It made Clint irate and that was good for some cheap thrills. But the two of you hadn’t practiced any form of affection outside of the bedroom. You had a cold exterior, and a single look could send Kate into a rambling mess, as if she’d been injected with truth serum.

“I can sneak out the window?” You pulled the sweater over your head, reaching blindly for your jeans. The button had fallen off, and you couldn’t locate your underwear. Kate watched you with a quiet amusement until you stood across from her. “Second floor isn’t too bad. The daylight kills my cover a bit, but-“

“You should stay.” Her voice came out a little too loud. She took a deep breath, “I want you to stay.”

A pang of affection ran through you, reflexively you dropped your hold on your jeans. They fell around your ankles in a pool of denim. It earned a snicker from Kate, but you didn’t’ mind. The sound was heavenly and made your head feel unbelievably fuzzy, despite the embarrassment.

She wordlessly thrust a pair of sweatpants into your hands. It was soft, and you would swim in it. This would be easy, a simple way to pull at Clint’s nerves. Cruel, maybe, but each time you imagined that pitying look on his face as he pleaded with you to leave Kate alone, that rush of anger came back.

When Kate turned, you pressed you palm to your lips to keep from yelping out a laugh. Kate’s tank-top was still it’s stark white, just with two scorched marks in the shape of your hands. You had kept your promise, not catching anything on fire, but you came pretty damn close.

You wanted to tell her, really, you did. But the sound of the front door opening and closing caught your attention. Lucky let out a terse bark and cut through the both of you to fling himself down the stairs. Clint, you had heard from your mother, had a way with all animals. Not just birds.

“Katie Kate! I grabbed some bagels from the bodega on the corner. I know you only have one knife but I grabbed extras.”

She gave you a sheepish smile, leaning forward and kissing the corner of your lip. You froze, Kate’s hands squeezing your arms. The archer didn’t pause in her movements, as if they were second nature. She started to head down the stairs, leaving you in a bewildered state.

You let out a shuddered breath, clenching your eyes shut to steady yourself. Not even the dog was left in the room. A simple display of affection that seemed to just be for the two of you. This warmed you like no one-night-stand and horrible instant coffee could.

Clint noticed you instantly, using a plastic knife to separate two halves of a doughy bagel. His movements stilled; taking in your disheveled hair and the oversized clothing that you dawned. It was more than clear that you’d spent the night and his mouth opened with an audible pop.

Kate was pouting quietly at the empty carton of orange juice that she had drained last night. Lucky padded over to you, pushing his cool nose into your palm, tail thumping. Clint watched the interaction, one half of the bagel hitting the kitchen island with a plop.

“Good morning, baby. Sorry if we woke you.” Her scent was suddenly invading your space, another kiss, this time, more than chaste, landed on your lips. Clint paled, swallowing hard. His eyes flicked to the scorch marks on Kate’s shirt.

“Mm, not at all. Good morning, Clint.”

“Morning, y/n.”

Kate wrapped her arms around you effortlessly and hugged you against her front. Her chin rested on your shoulder, cheek pressed to your own. You were convinced that she could feel how rapid your heart was beating.

She had fit into the role of girlfriend perfectly. You, on the other hand, bit your tongue to keep from malfunctioning. Last night was so effortless. Your lust drove you, and your skin prickled at the memory of Kate’s tongue between your breasts. You shivered now, and she smirked into your neck.

“What are you guys up to today?”

You asked the question out of politeness, but your voice wavered all the same. Kate gave you an encouraging squeeze. Clint darted his eyes back and forth. An air of panic seemed to seize him and he made quick work of putting cream cheese on an untoasted bagel.

“Nothing.” Clint is quick to dismiss you. There was almost a hint of jealousy there, something that Kate picked up on too. The twitching of her fingers against the smoothness of your skin was enough to alert you to the fact.

You drew out your next word “Okay, I suppose I should get going, then.”

Playing the part, Kate let out a dissatisfied groan in response. You turned in her arms and gave her a look that was met with concern. Real concern. She pressed her forehead against your own and whispered ever-so-gently. Are you okay?

And you nodded, because you were. At least of the time being. The disgruntled actions of your biological father was enough. Having Kate hold you, even if it was all for show, was enough.

The key turned in the lock with an audible click. You made a point, when entering your mother’s shared space with Lance, to make as much noise as possible for both your benefit. The buttery scent of pancakes overwhelmed your senses and filled you with warmth.

It was Sunday, all of the windows open and an incredible dosage of sunlight filling the home. You’d grown up here between your travels and training. Bobbi had kept your room the same, hadn’t dared touched the pictures that lined the stairway. Professionally done and the portrait of a perfect family.

Your mother sipped a glass of orange juice at the table. Lance was humming a disjointed tune as he flipped a blueberry pancake, perfectly cooked and golden brown. He was wearing his glasses and a pair of plaid pajama pants. A far cry from the suits you were used to seeing him in, lately.

Bobbi’s pale green eyes flicked up from the paper she was reading, then back down before darting towards you again. Her fingers tightened around the glass. “Good morning, darling. Purple suits you.”

Lance turned with a furrowed expression. You’d worn the color before, it wasn’t as if there was an aversion to it. You’d successfully macgyvered your jeans before leaving Kate’s this morning, but you were still swimming in her sweatshirt. You found the minty scent comforting.

“A bit big, isn’t it?”

Bobbi was smirking behind her glass. You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you flopped down into the chair next to her. You leveled her with a glare that held no malice. She knew exactly what it was like to fall for a Hawkeye. They were charming, persistent, and overall, annoying.

The latter was starting to ebb away in the furthest reaches of your mind. There had always been jokes made by the elite families of New York, the ones who ran in the same circles that Eleanor and Lance did. Tabloids that voyeuristically took interest in the Bishop and Morse heirs.

Eventually, everyone proclaimed through silent looks and not-so-silent gossiping, you and Kate would end up together. The fire had squashed those rumors, and then reignited them glory. The attention made it hard to do your real job. But your chest oddly swelled with pride when Bobbi lifted an eyebrow at you.

“Is there something you want to tell us?”

Lance had flicked off the stoves burner and set a steaming pile of pancakes in the center of the table. None of you dug in. Your parents watched you, instead, almost giddy. They’d both had their fair share of run-in’s with Kate Bishop.

During your senior year, you would storm into the house and pace back and forth, seething about an award that Kate won or a competition that ended in a tie. They’d bide their time and wait. They waited for years and part of you dreaded giving them the satisfaction. You straightened in your chair, ran a finger over your fork.

“Not that I can think of,” You smirked.

“Okay,” Lance nodded “be that way.”

You huffed and reached for the plate, but he pulled it back slightly. A scrape sounding as porcelain hit wood “No Pancakes for you.”

They were enjoying this too much. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at them with shock. Blueberry pancakes were your favorite, and you had a less than satisfactory morning. This felt like the SHIELD torture techniques they’d taught you years ago.

“Fine. Kate and I are seeing each other. Happy?”

You reached for the pancakes again, and again, Lance slid them back. “For how long?”

“Awhile”

“That’s not enough.” Bobbi cut into a pancake she had transferred onto her own plate, soaked in syrup and dripping. She took a bite and moaned in bliss. “Wow, babe, these are your best yet.”

“Before the fire at the benefit.” You supplied, hating the desperation that was in your voice. The way your stomach squeezed in hunger fueled your need. “She’s been my girlfriend for months.”

The words sent a thrill down your spine. They were entirely untrue, but your mother and Lance didn’t question it. In fact, he pulled out his time-worn wallet and produced a twenty-dollar bill. Bobbi took it wordlessly with a shit-eating grin on her face. She pushed the plate back in your direction.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“You were betting on us?”

“It’s more of a pool, really.” Lance defended, having the decency to blush.

“Unbelievable!”

Really, it wasn’t. Not with the rumors that swirled around the two of you since sandbox days. Your hunger overtook your indignance and you pulled two fluffy pancakes onto your plate. Angrily (as angrily as you could) you cut them into little pieces and chewed slowly with a frown.

Bobbi returned to reading the paper and Lance raised his hand for a high five. You scowled at him, shaking your head. Sheepishly he lowered it and returned to his own breakfast.

You’d scarfed down food faster than necessary before pouring yourself a cup of coffee and retiring to the wooden swing on the front porch. You breathed in the early morning air, the cool mist that coated the lawn. It was a quick moment of peace to settle your thoughts.

Your toes pushed against the porch, settling into an easy sway. You were left to your own devices, letting the rising sun warm your bones. Eventually, Bobbi joined you with her own cup of coffee, cupping the mug and lowering herself onto the other end of the bench with a slight groan. The chains screeched in protest.

Her hand found it’s way to your knee, giving it a slight squeeze. “We haven’t really had a chance to talk.”

You knew exactly what she meant. It wasn’t about Kate, though, you could sense the buzz of questions at the tip of her tongue. The two of you hadn’t addressed the Clint shaped elephant in the room, and you bit into the soft flesh of your cheek to calm the storm that washed over you in an instant.

“Are you okay?” She whispered

“I don’t know.”

The silence returned, and you wanted so desperately to break it. But you didn’t know what to say. Your throat tightened and you swallowed a gulp of scalding coffee. The heat pinched at your eyes and they watered listlessly.

“I hate that he matters. Clint Barton is a stranger to me, but he still holds this… this power.” You drew one leg up to your chest. “I wasn’t enough for him to stay.”

“Oh, baby”

Her gravelly words of comfort made you fold into the overwhelming emotions. Bobbi’s arm was around you and your face buried into her neck. You knew your nose was cold against her skin, but she said nothing. She gripped your side and pulled you close to her. You suddenly felt like a child again.

“That’s not true,” She pulled back, cupping both of your cheeks with her hands. She frantically wiped away your tears with her thumbs “We were both kids when we had you. I grew up, and he didn’t. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t want you to doubt yourself. Your potential.”

“He…” You swallowed thickly, the words bitter in your mouth “he loves her more than me.”

It was an accusation that had tremendous merit. There was no malice towards Kate, not this time. She’d fallen into his good graces by pure luck. She’d told you the story as over two amber bottles of IPA that went down less than smooth.

“I mean, fuck, mom. He gave me the shovel talk.”

She frowned and pulled back, a certain anger falling over her facial expression. Your biological father warning you to stay away from his protégé was in bad taste. It left an ugly film over your skin. A seed of doubt that was planted by the man who abandoned you.

“You’ve never made me doubt myself. Every day of my life you’ve reminded me of my value, of what I’m capable of. I don’t want him to come over and blow that all down like the big bad wolf.”

“Sweet girl,” She pulled you back into her side, her floral scent coating your lungs. You hadn’t realized how cold you were until you cuddled into your mother as if you were nothing more than a scared child. Your fingers grasped at the fabric of her shirt like a life raft. “We’re stronger than that.”

Tag List💕: @noturlondonboy, @slvtformaria

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Hi, pookie 🖤 how are you? May I request 👉🏻👈🏻 24 (revenge) + Don John. Please 👀

Hi Scarlett 🥺🥹!! I hope I did good for you!! —Don Jon x F!Reader ( TW: spanking, dubcon, namecalling, Don Jon being evil, nsfw )

“Unhand me, you brutes!” Your struggle, both physically and vocally, holds no weight here, while one henchman on each arm drags you into the Bastard Prince’s room to face your untimely demise. “I swear I will burn this place to the ground and you along with it! I said unhand me, cursed whoreson!”

“What an ugly mouth on a pretty maiden,” says the reason for your distress, looking very much—almost comically so—like a dark hearted villain intent on consuming every last ounce of your decency and pride.

You scowl deeply at him. “I suppose this is the only way you can get pretty maiden’s into your chambers?” Even though you know that is not true. Jon is a handsome man with cheekbones like sharp glass and skin doted on by the sun. More often than not, he is stumbling home drunk with some ditzy, poor thing clinging to his battle-sculpted arm.

“I changed my mind.” He is no longer speaking to you, but now his obedient dogs. “You can gag her.”

Your eyes grow wide upon seeing the thick, braided rope they intend to use in binding you. Luckily, each dufus has forgotten you have two working legs, so while they’re distracted with tugging your hands behind your back, you knee one in the groin and have just enough space to wriggle away unscathed.

Until a brawny, painful grip wraps around the base of your skull and pulls you back, into solid, lean muscle. To hell with your mind as it muses about how good this bastard feels behind you, and to hell with your cunt as it plumps for his deft ropework and sinister voice so close to your hot skin.

“Never had a man tie you up, lambkin?”

“Unlike some people, I’m not a whore, so no. But do tell me what it was like.”

“Was it not you that assumed my virginity but five minutes ago?” His voice turns sour, and you prickle with pride at your ability to get under his skin even when he has you trussed up for his mercy and enjoyment.

“I didn’t say you were successful in any of your numerous pursuits, just that there are far too many.”

You can feel his blood boil, skin warm and flush deep crimson. “Maybe next time, I will gag you, but for now, I very much want to hear that vulgar tongue plead for my quarter.”

Next time? What next time? There hasn’t even been a this time yet. Is his plan to put you in bondage and then insult you? God, if it is kill me now, you pray, despite belonging to no religion. You don’t think you can take much more of his insufferable mouth. Although, perhaps if it was licking between your thighs that would be a different story.

Your imagination supplies the frequented vision wherein you’re tugging on his thick hassock of hair while he does whatever it is that men do when their face is buried in your sex. This fantasy you’ve had for a while, ever since hearing Margaret talking about how his otherwise useless mouth drove her to a clenching, cosmic defeat.

He’s spewing some more dribble that you have no care for, and you’ve missed most of it while lost in your fantasy. You do, however, catch his nagging complaint, and the reason for him wanting your company on this humid night.

“You should have kept your mouth shut, and you wouldn’t be here at all.”

“I’ve no clue what you’re talking about, Jon.”

A firm, stinging slap lands on the fat of your behind, wrenching a yelp and curse. “Watch it!”

“You will address me be my proper title, little snitch, or I will do worse than spank you.”

“Oh come off it,” you sigh, although too cowardly now to add his improper name to that sentence, a fact probably not missed by him. “Your plan was so stupidly apparent that Don Pedro would have meddled it sooner or later. I was just sparing you further embarrassment. You should be thanking me.”

“Oh, you’re absolutely right.” He throws you onto his mattress, demonstrating strength that you didn’t think he possessed, then grabs one foot and tugs you onto the end so that your ass and legs hang off the side. With your face pressed into the down, you can’t see to kick or shoulder him while he pins your lower back with a sturdy, wide press. “Allow me to express my gratitude.”

Your protests of indecency and modesty fall on deaf ears while he lifts the skirts of your dress up to reveal undergarments; then, he tugs those down too, and leaves you bare to himself, his goons, and the balmy night air. Shame descends over you like a wool blanket, and your mouth lets him know just how much you despise him, his parents, their parents, and the ones before that, too.

Your cursing of his bloodline cuts short with the first heavy slap of his palm on the swell of your bare ass—and, oh, you never realized just how tender that slice of flesh could be until his fingertips turn it raw and throbbing.

You haven’t been smacked on the rear since you were a tiny thing, and you don’t ever remember it hurting this much. Perhaps your mother’s hands were not as big or as infused with muscle, though.

Slap, slap, slap. You attempt an arched back for some kind of reprieve from the singing pain, but he holds you firm, even moreso when you try and fight him, making your tender, poor bottom stick out indecently and proudly, like the pretty full moon in the sky. It hurts, and he will not stop, not even when your cheeks get wet and you whimper his name, hoping for some goddamn human decency.

When he finally does cease, you think maybe he might be moving to the other cheek, but instead feel the feathery touch of his fingers tease the curly soft protection of your womanhood, and then past, to collect sticky cum on his fingers. You clench down onto this, pleasure unexpected, a welcome reprieve from the sting of your bottom.

“You like this?” He muses, soothing your feminine nectar into the burning skin on your ass. “So desperate that spanking soaks your needy cunt?”

You release the fat of his mattress from between your teeth to whine for the loss of his uncharacteristically soft touch teasing between your slick, unmapped folds. He’s going to go back to spanking you now, you know. After all, there is a whole other plump cheek with skin untainted, and you contemplate, briefly, begging him to, instead, go back to your starving pussy.

“Well,” he says, grin tooth filled and sharp, “if you like it so much, who am I to deny a lady her pleasure?”

You think maybe you’ve grown accustomed to the beating by now, so it will hurt less on this protruding cheek, but you’re very wrong. The pain is tenfold on virgin flesh, and quickly you are back to biting his mattress in order to muffle yelps and screams and mewls—in order to prevent the sweet, girly begging he wants to hear. You long for the gag.

Because, eventually, and, especially when he goes back to the other purpling mound, you do beg, demure and ingenuous, so eagerly offering your submission up on a silver tray for His Royal Jackass. No time to be disgusted with yourself, for now—you’ll try and save some humiliation for later.

There is a satisfied grumble to his voice, one that makes your cunt clench and dribble, and by now you’re sure his guards can see the shameful essence glittering on your pubic hair and thighs. You bury your face into the bed, trying to forgot the situation at hand, which is, of course, impossible, when he’s talking to you.

“Is this what it takes to keep you in place, y/n? Perhaps I should entertain her more often to keep the little witch in line?”

“No, please, anything but that,” you say, digging your toes into the ground, futilely shying away from a deceptively soft touch on your right cheek.

He pauses for a moment, and you can practically feel the evil gears in his too-intelligent mind turning. Perhaps it was something you said, or some authentic idea he has for torturing you further. Either way, this will be unpleasant for you.

You’d squirm if you could, when feathery fingers travel down the cleft of your ass and stop just shy from the bulge of your pussy lips. “Anything?” He repeats. “Even this pathetic Quim?”

“Yes! Even that!”

He kicks your legs apart with the toe of his leather boot, opening those dewy petals between your thighs. You swear you can feel nectar drip freely from your flower, and take solace in the fact that you are definitely wet enough to accept him if he decides to steal that coveted innocence away tonight.

Instead of his cock, or maybe even his tongue—yes, please—your fragile blossom meets the sharp palm of his mean hand. And then again, and once more. And if you think that you were sobbing and begging and trying to writhe away before, it was only an illusion compared to the state of you now, while he punishes your cunt for the crimes of your tattling, wretched mouth.

Without warning, he pushes a finger inside you, and you gasp, clenching on that singular digit that fills you so much more fully than your own could ever hope to. He touches something that splits your vision in fours, but only for a moment, then, faster than you can come back to earth, flips you around and sticks his wet finger into your mouth.

“Suck,” he says, smiling down at you, sweat dripping from his face and staining his white blouse.

“What-“

He presses deeper, making you gag. “I said, suck, whore.”

You try not to glare as you do what’s instructed, and suck the salty thick fluid from his index finger. This distracts you, and he takes the opportunity to roughly pinch one of your burgeoning nipples between the fingers of his left hand.

You can’t help it, when your teeth sink into his flesh, only stopping yourself from entirely biting down, but still earning an unfair slap on your face for the mistake. He wretches his finger from your throat and rubs the spit and sting of your teeth from himself, onto your freshly reddened cheek.

“Seems you do require more breaking in,” he says, eyes black as the night without lanterns or moon or stars. “No matter, I will be more than happy to discipline you, Lambkin.” With that, he pushes you back onto his bed, among the messy sheets and sweaty smell of man and herbal oils, and turns to walk away.

“Wait!” You cry, scrambling to sit up again, wincing at the burning singe in your lower regions. You tug on the rope that binds your arms back, opening your mouth to say something scathing, but the flesh of your rear begs you not to. “Are you going to let me go?”

He laughs at you as if you’ve just told a hilarious joke. “No, though perhaps you can get one of your sister’s help? Better yet, your mother or father might assist? Although you’re going to have to explain yourself, no doubt.” A wicked glint muddles his eyes; it makes you yearn for your fist to connect with his pretty face or foot to connect with his—with the large, obscene bulge in his leather trousers that was most certainly not there before he spanked you.

“Please, I cannot do that.”

“Then stay for the night, and perhaps when I return in the blue of dawn I will gift you my cock, little witch. After more punishment for being such a wanton slut, of course.”

He does leave you, then, throbbing in agony and, regrettably, desire for his wicked hands, tangled up in his sheets, absolutely a wreck of what you once were.

[melanieph321]

Gabriel Medina x Reader - Untamable Part 2/8

Part 1

Reader spends the summer with her first love, Gabriel Medina, for him to get a chance to know their three year old son. However, both Reader and Gabriel struggle to keep their feelings at bay.

Enjoy!

Nemo wanted to walk on his own. He stumbled out of your grandmother house with no sense of direction at all. The still gathered crowd regarded him curiously as he made his way down the driveway. You walked not too far behind, ignoring the mumbles around you. The neighbors had stayed for this moment alone. The moment you would come face to face with—"

"Y/N."

A white Chevrolet with its widows tinted, stood parked along the sidewalk. Beside it stood a man dressed in a grey t-shirt and board shorts.

"Gabriel?" His name escaped your mouth unintentionally. Almost like a fever dream. He looked nothing like you remembered him, having left him as a boy with a cheeky smile and chubby cheeks. Before you stood a man, dark wavy hair and a sleeve covered in tattoos. His face was carved along his sharpened jaw, and a goatie grew on his chin below his mustache covered lips. He was fairly built, the bumps of his muscles visible through his straining t-shirt. And he was tall, almost two heads taller than yourself.

"Papa."

Gabriel's gaze left yours, shifting towards the ground. There, with his hands stretched above his head, was Nemo, who recognized Gabriel as the man from the pictures kept above his nightstand.

The crowd behind you sighed. Some of them even shed tears, watching Gabriel pick up Nemo in his arms, batting away his own tears.

"Go to him."

Your grandmother shoved you from behind. You stood frozen in the middle of the driveway. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't move.

"Gabriel, Gabriel. Can I have your autograph?"

Soon, the heartfelt crowd turned into a violent mob. Pushing each other in order to get closer to Gabriel, who was still holding Nemo in his arms.

"Please, please. I'm such a big fan. Can I just have one autograph?"

The neighborhood kids were the most brutal, fighting their way to get a chance to meet arguably one of the greatest surfers to have emerged from Brazil.

"Please." Gabriel said, trying to calm them down. "I'm only here for my family."

Things happened so fast. The escalation of the crowd forced Gabriel off the sidewalk and towards the house. He grabbed you along the way. Holding onto your hand until the silence of your grandmother's house fell upon you.

"Jesus." He said, running a hand through his hair. "That was crazy."

Nemo suddenly erupted in tears, crying for you to hold him. You did so, unhanding him from Gabriel.

"Poor baby." Your grandmother was not impressed. "How people can get. You'd think someone told them that the king was coming."

"Michael Jackson?"

"No, Elvis."

"Oh. Well, I'm really sorry about that." Gabriel said, watching you rock Nemo in your arms. "I really didn't think it would get this crazy."

"Maybe next time warn us before coming." Your grandmother gesticulated vividly with her hands. "This is São Sebastião not Rio de Janeiro. We aren't used to super surfistas like you casually paying us a visit. It would cause a riot."

"Mas vovó, eu também sou daqui." (But grandma, I'm from here too.)

"Please. Your family couldn't wait to abandon us as soon as they got a hold of a little money. Save your sweet talk for somebody else."

"Vovó" You frowned. She was being awfully rude.

"Just give the baby to me." She sneered. "I'm sure the two of you have a lot of things to catch up on."

You gave Nemo to your grandmother and suddenly found yourself alone in a room with the man you once loved.

"Y/N." Your name escaped his lips with such ease, like butter, and when he stepped forward to hug you all you could do was to oblige to the large arms that wrap around your body, hugging you tightly.

"Gabriel... I can't breathe." You tapped him on the shoulder.

He pulled back. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay."

"It's really not. This was meant to happen sooner."

"What?"

"Meeting you and the baby. But my family—"

"It's okay." You assured. The last thing you wanted to do was discuss Gabriel and the complicated relationship he had to his family. You had faced enough of that in your life.

"Let's just savor the moment." You said. "You're here now, aren't you?"

Gabriel smiled softly but fell victim to staring into your eyes for too long. Long enough to make the moment akward again.

"Sorry." He caught himself and chuckled. "It's just that you look so different."

"Me?" You frowned. "You're the one who put on a cows weight in muscle mass."

Gabriel's laughter sprung something within you, something you thought had died a long time ago.

"What's wrong?"

He saw the slight conflict that appeared in your eyes, seizing his laughter.

"Nothing I....I'm fine. A bit tired I guess."

"Don't worry. I'll drive us back to Maresias before sundown."

"Pardon?"

"What?" Gabriel shoved his hands into his pockets. His expression goes back to being annoyingly relaxed.

"What did you say about Maresias?"

"Oh, I said I'll get us there before sundown. Traffic here is way faster than in the city."

"We're not going to Maresias." The furrow of your brows deepened.

"Erm... but I thought that's what we agreed on. For you and Nemo to stay with me for the summer?"

"No, we agreed to stay closer to you in the summer. That's why we're here in São Sebastião, so that you can come and visit us without the hassle of coming all the way to the city."

Gabriel appeared bit disoriented. "So you're not coming to stay with me in Maresias?"

"No, absolutely not. What would even make you think—." You stopped yourself. The expression on Gabriel's face saying it all. The letters. One of which burned in your pocket.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel." You said softly. "I know that you want for the three of us to become a family again. However, that's just not happening."

He shook his head. "No, no. I get it. I shouldn't have assumed that you would want to stay with me after all this years. I just wanted to feel closer to my son, that's all."

A string of guilt struck your heart. But then you had to remember the numerous times you prayed for a moment, such as this one. A moment that never came. And it wasn't coming now.

"I'm sorry Gabriel. But this is the way it has to be."

"No, no. It's...fine." He scratched the back of his neck. "It's totally fine."

It wasn't fine. It took you everything not to cry.

"I guess I should head back home then, give the two of you a chance to settle in."

"Thank you Gab—"

"Oh, no, you're not." Your grandmother burst back into the room with Nemo pinned to her hip, a pacifier in his mouth.

"Vovó." You gritted your teeth. "Gabriel can leave if he wants to."

"Not with all those people still out there. If he does, they'll clamp down my yard, and I just planted new flowers."

It was settled, Gabriel was staying for dinner. Your grandmother cooked many of the dishes from your childhood, bringing back good memories. Most of your childhood memories were good. The bad ones were of your parents, who, along with your older brother, passed away in a car accident when you were just a young girl. That's actually how you got closer to Gabriel and his family. He was your brothers best friend, the two of them always up to no good. They'd spend most of their time surfing by the break of rocks, dreaming about going pro someday. At least one of them made it.

"Do you need help?"

You stood in the kitchen, interrupted by Gabriel, who stumbled upon you doing the dishes. Having him for dinner wasn't as bad as you had thought. You just had to ignore the fire that lit up inside of you every time he caught your eye from across the table. Or when his foot accidentally nudged yours underneath it.

"No, but thank you for asking."

"Alright then. Most of the people have left your grandmother's yard now, so I think I'm gonna make my way home."

You turned off the water, your back still turned to Gabriel who stood watching you from the doorway. "I guess I'll see you later then?" You said, swollowing the lump forming in the base of your throat.

"Yes. I'll probably come by the day after tomorrow. I have some work to do with my team until then."

"Your team?" You turned your head, watching him from the corner of your eye.

"Yeah. It's really just me and Rico. Rico, who you might remember? He was friends with Paulo and I back in high school."

"Oh." A weight pressed down on your chest at the mentioning of your brother.

"Yeah, he's actually my fitness coach now. He's gonna help me set up a program to prepare me for the next surfing tour."

"Of course." You nodded, dunking your hands into the dirty dish water just to hide the trembling of them.

"Well....I guess I better tell Nemo goodnight before I leave."

"Yes. Do that."

You stood in silence for a moment, hesitating to turn the water back on. A shadow then appeared behind you, isolating your frame. Gabriel's tattooed arms wrapped around your body, sliding down into the sink, into the dirty dish water.

"Do they still do that." He whispered, his voice deep in your ear.

"Y...yes." You nodded, the heat from his body not making the trembling any better.

"Are you still on medication?"

"No. I stopped taking them when I was pregnant. I guess I never found a reason to take them again."

"This should be a reason." Gabriel raised your hands up and out from the water, revealing your hands. To your surprise they had stopped trembling. But only because Gabriel was squeezing them tightly, stabilizing the panic within you.

His voice was calm in your ear. "There's nothing to be ashamed about. It's normal to take medication for these sorts of things."

"It really isn't." You chuckled. "Not when your family has been dead for years."

Soft lips were pressed into your hair, followed by a whisper, "You're family is not dead. We're right here with you."

You made the mistake of turning around and facing him, his arms caging you between him and the kitchen sink. His lips looked so kissable, Gabriel's eyes convincing you to do just that. Kiss him. However, he only leaned in to knock his forhead against yours. "I'll be back the day after tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

He kissed your temple and you let him. "Good. I'll see you."

You watched him leave the kitchen and disappear down the hall. A quiet beat, followed by Nemo's laughter suddenly echoing throughout the house, below it and above it, as if he was being tossed in the air. The laughter eventually seized, followed by Gabriel, who passed the kitchen on his way towards the door. "Goodnight, Y/N."

It took everything for you to say it back. "Goodnight Gabriel."

He left the house as you approached the kitchen window, watching him make his way down the driveway back to his car. Some resilient kid from the neighborhood popped out of nowhere with a pen and paper. And like you knew he would, Gabriel took his time to sign his autograph on that piece of paper, leaving the young boy beaming from ear to ear.

"He's a good man, that I'll admit."

"Jesus, vovó. You scared me."

She had appeared by your side like a cat in the night. Like you, her gaze was fixiated out of the window, regarding Gabriel as he finally hopped into his car.

"Just don't let him break your heart again." She said, a stern look on her face. "Never again."

Part 1

[kneelingshadowsalome]

would you ever be interested in writing a more masc reader? i kind of got it by know you write fem!reader exclusively, so i've been wondering if you'd write something along the lines a manly gal.

like the type that sees könig do his pushups, she must also immediately try to catch up to him? she sits manspread and wears manly clothes and makes everything a raunchy sex joke and has no shame and is kind of a muscle mommy and a total gremlin? something like that? and it disarms könig completely cuz he's used to damsels in distress, but this one can do everything herself but somehow wants him?? like an equal partner?

also can u pls tell each of your königs i love them with all i have? pls? 🥺 they're like my reason for living this past year i wanna give them a big sweet kiss and pet them

🤲 here, have an offering as gratitude. ignore the arms lol

Maaaan your offering 😭😭💖💞

And yes I have a habit of writing König with helpless maidens and sassy fairies don’t I ��

So… König with masc!reader…. (Lol this turned out very rivals to lovers but I hope you enjoy!)

König can be a little off-putting. One would think that a man of his size wouldn’t get so threatened by a girl with some muscles on her... But you catch him mansplaining guns to you more than once, showing off his new rifle and then snapping his mouth shut when you fire a round of 5 bullseyes with a calm, stable breath and perfect posture.

“It’s nice,” you give it back to him, “but I’ve seen better.”

Knowing that you just threw his own words back at him – he’s always boasting on the field – König just blinks and grabs his rifle from you.

“...Where?”

“In my safe,” you shrug, trying to keep a neutral face.

And you’ve seen him during sparring, knowing already that he likes to one-up everyone. König is skilled and fierce, but he’s also competitive to the point of petty, which is why you’re amused when he suddenly turns gentle, even hesitant when paired with you.

At some point, it starts to get on your nerves though. It’s slightly insulting, even sexist, that he’s trying to treat you like a gentleman when you’re supposed to hit each other. So, you snap a good right hook through his guard and watch the man see some stars. Hoping that it would fix that attitude, you do it again, and again until he stops giving you the princess treatment.

But even after that, you see he’s holding back. The more you try to get him to attack properly, the more pissed off he gets, refusing to strike you even when you bring him down – a man twice your size – and gloat over him. His eyes are flaming because he just lost for the sake of some weird “I don’t hit women” policy, and it shouldn’t bother you. The man’s an asshole, what are you to do?

Still, it’s giving you a headache. Did you win the match only because he allowed it? You almost smack him in the head again. You already dealt with these kinds of idiots at the training program, and now you have to take shit from pros too? While you’re the pro? Jesus.

Determined to give him hell for the rest of the week, you make a lousy joke about the size of his gun when you go on a mission. It’s a bit unhanded, because this lame ass fool actually gets bothered by your quip, and you mentally beat yourself up for messing with your partner’s head before an important hostage rescue.

He barges through the door like a bull, and you purse your lips under your balaclava – on the other hand, is it even your fault if he gets killed because of some stupid Freudian joke?

This guy is simply too much fun…

So what happens is that you can’t keep your mouth shut. It’s horrid, what comes out of your lips when he’s trying to save lives. Things such as:

“Do you have your gun in hand?”

“I’ll keep an eye on your six while you take the women”

“Did you see their faces when König rammed himself in?”

The innuendos are obvious and rampant and so bad that König is surely blushing under that hood before you even board the plane. On top of everything, he rubs the barrel of his gun up and down in the plane because he’s so nervous. He does it absent-mindedly; the poor guy probably doesn’t understand the outrageous amount of Freudian jokes that could be cracked about that…

You try to pull yourself together after that because otherwise, people would start to suspect you’re having a crush on him. Army humour is army humour but you’re taking this shit a bit too far… Your jokes have never been this bad before, they certainly never induced such crazy behaviour from a guy.

...Because it turns out that you’ve awoken a demon.

At the gym, you see König watching you do pull ups – you’re the only girl there, yes, but you don’t wear some sculpting, seamless gym pants and a suggestive sports bra. You only have your old sweats and a tank top on, but the man's looking at you like he’s dreaming of either killing or fucking you. He's smashing the plates around like they've just personally insulted him, and glares at your way again, then lifts more than you’ve ever seen anyone lift before. He never talks to you: just stops and stares when you’re doing a set, then does his own, then glares.

You don’t know if it’s some kind of an awkward challenge or if he’s trying to flirt with you – menacingly – but you’re a mess after that gym session.

Next time during training, König personally offers to spar with you: he even pushes away the guy that had been assigned as your pair. And this time, he doesn’t hold back. He’s serious, and rough, and fucking frightening.

“That’s it, big boy,” you’re panting before half a minute has passed, “You finally found your groove?”

“No talking during sparring,” he grunts, and almost manages to land a blow – almost, because it ends with him on the floor. The takedown is something even KorTac’s best would be proud of, but he doesn’t allow you to gloat this time. Oh no: he rolls through it: actually, he rolls so that he lands on top of you, then smashes his whole weight on your chest to keep you down.

“Right where I want you,” he says, so brunt and brief that you’re not sure if you just imagined it.

“Is...that...so?”

You try to fight him in vain: he only presses you further into the mat and forces even your face to the side with his own.

“I thought you liked girls,” he pants into your ear, so low that the others can’t hear.

“That’s funny,” you whisper through clenched teeth, fingers curled around his shirt. “I thought you liked girls.”

You hear him draw air right beside your ear, and then – it’s unmistakable, the throbbing pulse against your thigh.

He’s getting hard.

The fucking moron is getting hard during a sparring session with you–

“There’s no need to crush your partner,” the trainer instructs, to everybody grinding on the mat in general, perhaps, but you have a feeling he’s directing the words König who’s currently choking you with his entire body.

“Is this what you want?”

He lets you breathe, only enough so you can turn and have another staring competition with him, this time with his mouth only a hair’s breadth away. Those eyes are hard as steel and as beautiful as snow, and that stare still wants to either fuck or murder you…

“Hm? You want to get crushed?”

“...Why do you think I joined the army?” You laugh breathlessly, eyes glimmering from mirth. He’s such a sight when he’s angry and confused.

Your cheeky answer only makes him more perplexed. Poor man – it’s so easy to tease him that you almost feel like a bully.

“That's right... Take your time getting up, there’s no need to rush,” you breathe, and watch the snow melt into a bewildered cerulean sea.

It sets sooner than you thought, his lids dropping as he settles to watch your lips, the heavy pulse on your neck.

“Oh I’m up already.”

[spinningwebsandtales]

Lollipop

Nicholas D. Wolfwood X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Suggestive themes, arguing, and mild threats

Word Count: 3.1k

(A/N:) I am on the bandwagon y’all! I watched Trigun years ago and enjoyed the series thoroughly so I was skeptical about Trigun Stampede until I gave it a shot and now I am obsessed. Especially over this doofus right here although Vash holds a special place in my heart. So I had this idea and it’s mainly just a self indulgence thing that won’t leave me alone until I write it! So to all my fellow Nicholas fangirls this one is for y’all! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

How you met Nicholas D. Wolfwood was a complete blur in your mind. While you no longer had a place to call home, you found yourself wondering the barren planet trying to find someplace you could live. Most towns didn’t like strangers, so it didn’t surprise you when you were ran out of several towns. People looked out for themselves and their own and you couldn’t blame them. If you had a home yourself, you knew you’d feel the same. But the next town seemed more welcoming as you were able to find a room and a place to grab a bite to eat. That’s when the trouble started, as a lone traveling female there was shady characters at every corner ready to take advantage of you. You could hold your own against them and even carried a weapon for protection you kept hidden in your boot underneath your pants leg. It was then while you were enjoying your dinner a few men jumped you, pinning you against the chair. Their lecherous gazes made you squirm and before you could even reach for the concealed weapon another man stepped in. He wasn’t the biggest man you’d seen, but he still had muscles hidden under the suit. His sunglasses pressed up on his nose hid his eyes from view while his black locks seemed like they hadn’t been trimmed in awhile. The five o’clock shadow dusting his chin gave him a handsome roguish air and despite your situation you swallowed at the attractiveness of the stranger.

“That’s no way to treat someone, especially a lady,” he spoke tossing the cigarette from his lips to the floor, stomping it out with his shoe.

“Mind you’re own business priest,” one snarled while nastily grinning at the newcomer.

The stranger seemed thoughtful for a moment before sighing, “I’m not really a priest. I’m more of an undertaker and I’ll show you just how good I am at my job if you continue to refuse to unhand your victim.”

“Teach him a lesson,” the leader of the men nodded towards the dark suited man.

You watched, speechless and a little curious. Not many people stood up for others, especially when it came to you. You had always had rotten luck, even as a child and here you were hitting the jackpot for once in your life. The leader of the men held onto you tightly while the other two surrounded your would be hero. You almost yelled for him to leave and save himself, but before you could utter a word the two thugs were on the ground, unconscious leaving the remaining one to gape in awe. The stranger dusted his hands, stepping over one of the fallen men.

“Now that I’ve proven myself a little, care to unhand her now?”

You were suddenly released while the last man standing fled, screaming like he’d been lit on fire. The stranger, that had put his neck on the line, fixed his ruffled suit coat, before he came towards you. You took a wary step from him, thankful for what he just did for you but you couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy as he was still a stranger to you. His lips quirked into a pleased smirk seeing your reaction before he held out a sheet of paper towards you.

“My fee,” he said waiting for you to take the offered paper.

“Fee,” you asked incredulously taking the paper from him. 30,000 double dollars smacked you right in the face, you suddenly felt faint. “What’s this for?!”

“Rescuing you of course,” he replied like it was the most obvious thing.

“I didn’t ask you to!”

“Think of it as a kindness out of my giving heart. I also gave you a big discount,” he reached into his suit pocket for a cigarette. He placed it between his lips before lighting it.

“Yeah giving heart. By giving if you mean giving out bills then I could definitely agree. I don’t have this kind of money! I barely had enough to get something to eat!”

He tsk’d, “Such a shame.”

You watched him walk away, trails of cigarette smoke the only thing lingering around. The other patrons watched the  exchange between you two cautiously. All you could do was shrug before sitting down and finishing the rest of your meal. 

You paid with what little money you had left before leaving the restaurant. You had to find where the next town is and how far as you knew you couldn’t stay now. Not with that so called undertaker causing a stir only to charge you and abandon you to whatever fate that those criminals were cooking up in vengeance. What you didn’t expect was to see the same man that had the gall to stand up towards your attackers and to say you owed him money leaning against the building you had rented a room in. He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, his dark eyes crinkling in delight.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite gal,” he greeted warmly like he hadn’t wiped his hands clean of you not twenty minutes ago.

“Since when,” you asked a ting of annoyance in your voice.

“Since I found out you rented out the last room,” he replied cheerfully. “Think you can help your hero out here?”

“I thought I owed you money, you creep,” you snarled.

“That’s water under the bridge,” he waved his hand. “I helped you, you help me. That’s what we’re put on this dust ball for isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily.”

He glared, “Look, if you share your room with me, I’ll forget about your debt to me.”

“I shouldn’t have a debt in the first place,” you argued.

“My lifestyle isn’t free y’know? I promise I won’t do anything untoward towards you,” he patted the tightly bound cross shape luggage as a vow.

You sighed not wanting this argument to continue any longer. Maybe if you helped him out this once you’d never have to see him again. “Fine. But if you do I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

“Fair enough.”

Night fell over the rough town quickly and you found yourself sitting stiffly on the bed as the night creatures yowled across the darkened desert. Your weird dark stranger seemed to be quite at ease as he leaned back on the tattered couch snoring up a storm. While you wanted to sleep, you worried about him doing something once your guard was down, also his snoring was making it impossible. The thought of smothering him with a dust covered pillow was becoming more tempting by the second. You had walked so far and in such harsh conditions, your body was screaming to get some much needed rest. His snoring seemed to be calming down some and your eyelids were winning the battle against staying awake. You finally succumbed falling into a deep slumber. 

A hand patted your cheek.

“C’mon wake up. It’s time for check out,” a chipper voice pulled you from the darkness.

“Wha?”

“Good morning beautiful!” Your stranger was in your face causing you to stumble backwards only to fall off the bed. “Do you know you drool in your sleep? It’s kinda cute.” 

“Oww,” you groaned. “What time is it? And why were you watching me sleep?!”

He chuckled, “Time to leave and you’re adorable. Less mean when you’re sleeping.”

“Like you’re such a saint.” You stretched, popping your spine. “You can go now, my debt is paid as ludicrous as it was.”

“Nah,” he replied. “I think we need to stick together a little longer. I heard you asking about the next town and I’m actually heading that way myself. Why not go together?”

“Because I am really beginning to hate your guts,” you rolled your eyes. But you couldn’t help but think how much safer it would be if you traveled with him. You began to ponder if it would be worth the headache. The want of companionship won out and you agreed. Now you were walking right behind the man watching the cross sway against his back.

“Nicholas,” he spoke out of the blue.

“What,” you asked.

“The name is Nicholas D. Wolfwood.”

“(Y/N). (L/N). I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you but it really wasn’t,” you grinned wickedly.

“So mean,” he turned away knowing you’d stay right with him.

A couple days passed and you found yourself warming up to the undertaker known as Nicholas. When he wasn’t teasing the daylights out of you, he was actually fun to be around. While you knew you would probably pay for it later he shared his water and what little food he had. He knew a lot about the desert and he shared information with you during the trek and around the campfire. It wasn’t every night you both got to share in the warmth of an open flame, it was only if Nicholas deemed it safe enough. He wanted to keep you both hidden from bandits or cut throats who would kill you both in your sleep and take everything from your corpses. You shivered violently at the thought of being snuck up on. The nights that you both couldn’t afford a fire he would curl up against you, sharing each other’s body heat to fight the cold of the night. One night you punched him in the nose when he got too touchy feely. Nicholas no longer tried groping you.

“Y’know for a priest you sure aren’t very angelic or pure,” you said one evening while watching him across the fire.

“Not a priest,” he spoke ripping at the meat in his hand. “Undertaker.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I just figured people of your kind would be pure.”

“Nah,” Nicholas shook his head. “This place steals purity as it steals moisture from the ground. I’m sure you’re not as pure as you’re trying to lead on.”

You scoffed, turning from the flames to hide your blush. “I’m as pure as they come, thank you.”

He chuckled hiding his movements by the crackling flames. You looked up, startling at the closeness of him. His face leaned into yours before taking your chin in his calloused fingers.

“Want me to sully you before the world does,” a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. You refused to answer, blushing beet red before decking him in the cheek. Laying sprawled out on the sand while holding his throbbing cheek, Nicholas laughed like a madman.

“I was joking,” he continued to laugh. “Ow.”

“Your demeanor said otherwise,” you argued. “I’m going to sleep. Don’t touch me or I’ll do worse than punch you.”

He set up still rubbing where you punched him. “I knew you were packing a weapon.”

You ignored him for a moment until curiosity won out. “How?”

“Your gait is different on your right leg. It was either blisters on your feet or a weapon tucked in your boot that catches on your pants leg.” He moved back to the other side of the fire so you would relax a little more. “You never complain about your feet hurting so it had to be a weapon.”

“You’re smarter than you look,” you snorted turning away from him again.

“Not just another pretty face,” he chuckled darkly. “Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch and I promise not to do anything to you.”

“Better not Nicholas or I’ll show you what I’m packing in this boot.”

“Knife,” he simply said and you stiffened.

“Shut up,” then you went to sleep.

Weeks later and you were beginning to wonder if the town you both were walking to even existed. The desert was becoming harder to bear, especially after you both ran out of water a couple days ago. Food wasn’t too hard to come by, as long as you didn’t mind eating bugs raw or the rare lizard every now and again. Sometimes you would come across a plant that carried a little water. Nicholas always let you have the most of it and it made you feel a little guilty. He would console you that he was used to living this way. It wasn’t until the next day you were beginning to go crazy from lack of water. Nicholas seemed unperturbed as he hummed to himself kicking at the sand every now and again, like a childish dance. Your mouth felt like sand and you prayed that you would arrive to your destination soon. Nicholas turned around to check on you, a lollipop clenched between his teeth instead of the ever present cigarette. He waved at you, crossing his eyes. You wanted to punch him again for enjoying himself while you were miserable. It made you wonder if he treated other people like he did you, cause he seemed to really enjoy getting under your skin. But you wanted a sucker too and you wouldn’t get candy with a salty attitude. His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed. Your mouth moistened a little as you tried to drool in want. You shook your head refusing to beg him for one stupid lollipop. A little green monster kept it’s place in the back of your mind, when Nicholas popped the treat from his mouth licking his lips. You whimpered at the sight of saliva glistening in the sun. Desperation was making you weak at the thought of any kind of moisture. But you wouldn’t stoop so low as asking for the sucker his perverted mouth was lavishing.

“Nicholas,” you cringed at your voice.

“Hmmm,” he looked back trying to hide his look of pleasure. He had been teasing you on purpose just waiting for you to break.

“Would you happen to have another lollipop,” you tried to ask disinterested.

“Sorry sweetheart,” he smiled wickedly waving the treat back and forth. “This is my last one.”

“Oh,” you said in disappointment. “That’s okay, I didn’t want one that bad in the first place.”

He sat the cross shaped package down sliding down the dune that you were standing at the foot of. “Don’t be shy now. You can have mine.”

“No,” you shouted quickly before clearing your throat. “No thank you that’s yours. I can wait until we make it to the town.”

“That could be days,” he replied. “Think you can hold out?”

“I’m sure,” the unsurety in your voice made him crook an eyebrow.

“Want a lick? Say ah,” he shoved the pink lollipop in your face.

“I’m good,” you dodged.

“Don’t be shy now,” he cackled. “It’s just my saliva. Your mouth has to be soooo dry.”

“No it’s not,” you screeched when he poked you in the side. He slid the sugary treat into your mouth. You clamped your lips around it, cheeks blood red before moaning at the little bit of moisture seeping into your dry mouth. He watched you close your eyes in bliss while the sucker moved around in your mouth, the stick turning circles.

“Better,” he asked leaning closer causing you to shrink back a little.

Your flustered face betraying you, “A little.”

“Good,” he said reaching back into his suit pocket. You thought he was going for another cigarette to replace the sucker only for him to pull out another one. He unwrapped the blue treat sticking it in his mouth.

“You said you didn’t have another one!”

He smirked, “I thought you really wanted mine. That’s what you asked for.”

“I did not! I specifically asked if you had another one,” you grabbed his collar. 

“I heard you say you wanted mine by the look in your eyes not your voice,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

Nicholas grabbed your wrists pulling you closer into his firm body. Wrapping one arm around your waist as his one hand kept both of your wrists in a strong grip.

“Maybe I wanted to give you an excuse to stop dodging me,” he purred. “Now that we shared an indirect kiss maybe you’ll let me take a shot at a real one.”

“Not going to happen,” you trembled trying to yank from his grasp.

He leaned down, nose brushing against yours before removing both of the suckers from your mouths. The sun relentlessly beating down but completely forgotten as you drowned in his gaze. You couldn’t focus on the fact that your lips were chapped and your mouth still dry. All you could see was a man that had irked you but cared for you in his own way. You hadn’t known him long but he had been more genuine than anyone you had ever met. He brushed the hair from your eyes before slotting his lips against yours. While chapped, there was still a softness to his mouth and he tasted like strawberries and blueberries from the suckers he had indulged in. Nicholas moaned at the sugary taste still lingering on your tongue as he explored your mouth. You shivered as he petted your tongue searching out what little taste you had left. Seconds later he parted from you, panting from the lack of air in his lungs. Your lips already swelling a little from his diligent lips that left no part of your lips unexplored. You melted against him, leaning your head against the bare part of his chest, where he kept his shirt buttons unbuttoned.

“Lollipop,” he cooed.

“Hmm,” you grunted still unable to form words just yet.

“I think I’ll call you lollipop from now on,” he grinned. 

You opened your mouth to protest the ridiculous pet name, to which he silenced with another kiss. While he still got on your nerves you couldn’t deny there was something about Nicholas D. Wolfwood that was beginning to grow on you.

“Do you have any friends,” you asked when he let you go again.

“Yeah I have several.”

“How do they deal with you?”

“I can grow on a person,” he grinned.

“Like a fungus? Mold? Canker sores?”

“You can be really mean (Y/N),” Nicholas pouted. “See if I give you anymore treats.”

“How shall I go on,” you scoffed walking off. Nicholas scampered after you picking up his cross. He slid on the sand before getting back to your side. He took your hand kissing the back of it before you both started back on your journey not knowing what would happen next. You couldn’t help but look forward to the unknown as you walked hand in hand with your annoying undertaker, that destiny brought to you.

[acapelladitty]

Imposter (Scriddler fic)

Pairing: Jonathan Crane/Edward Nygma

Summary: Arriving to his office late at night, Edward Nygma finds himself confronted by a monster which is familiar in ways that leave him vulnerable to the creatures tastes.

Warnings for: mild violence, monsterfucking, non-con (or, at least, extremely dub-con), mild blood, begging.

Edward knew something was wrong the moment he stepped through the door to his office. He was a man who prided himself on instinct and, as he passed through the threshold, every nerve in his body flicked to high alert. Something damp hung in the air, a scent which made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention as he peered into the darkness with sharp eyes.

“Hello?” Edward’s hand tightened across his cane, ready to strike at a moments notice as he closed the door behind him and flicked the switch to turn on the lights.

As the dim bulb burst to life, Edward grunted as something large slammed into his side, knocking the wind clean out of him as he collided with the office wall with a solid thud. Panic lanced his frame as he quickly pushed free of the wall, ready to confront whatever had dared to attack him in his own office but his breath caught in his throat as he were faced with a creature unlike anything he had seen before.

Its head almost skimming the ceiling, the creature was mostly hidden in the dim light but Edward could make out a mass of fur, the roots almost black while the main colour appeared to be a deep russet that tickled a familiarity that he could not put a finger on as his thoughts remained panicked and disjointed. Thick, sharp claws, their shape echoing those of a curved needle, peeked free of the creature’s arms and the sight of them sparked a primal alarm in Edward’s chest.

“What the hel-” Edward found his words stopped in their tracks by the creature leaping towards him, its hindlegs allowing it to make the distance with little effort. His back smacked roughly against the carpeted flooring and Edward once again found his breath knocked from his lungs as pain blossomed from the abused muscles of his back. Edward’s breathing was laboured, quickening in discomfort as the beast remained crouched above him – pinning him to the floor like prey.

Survival instincts kicking in, Edward writhed in place in a vain attempt to work out a weakness, a way of escape, but his body was stilled as the beast issued a low growl and its claws pulled free of the carpet and instead pressed against his shoulders; the pressure making his bones creak and tendons stretch as he issued a pathetic groan of protest.

Unable to see past the inhuman maw of the creature’s face which sat only a few inches away from his face, Edward tried for some desperate aggression.

“Unhand me!” He demanded weakly. “Let me loose. Whatever you are you have no business with me.”

The beast ignored his speech, but it did tilt its face forwards, allowing Edward to gain a better look at the rest of its face. There, peeking out from the snarling features were two eyes, two robins-egg blue eyes which forced a gasp from Edward’s lips as a stark revelation pierced him like a dagger.

“Crane?” He wheezed, the familiar eyes sparking a terrible understanding which he immediately understood to be true. “What the hell has happene-”

The creature hissed in such a way that Edward knew that he were being told to shut up and, as gripped with surprise and fear as were, he complied instantly. A cruel curiosity plucked at the panic which settled within him as he recognised his assailant as his part-time lover and favoured partner in crime. However, with revelation came anger, anger at his treatment and anger at whatever the fuck had happened to the man atop him.

“Jonathan?” Again, a warning growl and Edward fell silent with great effort on his part.

The creature, Jonathan, observed him steadily for a moment. His elongated snout twitched in place as it tasted the air before bending down to sniff at Edward’s hair. It inhaled deeply, the force enough that Edward felt his hair being thoroughly disturbed before pulling back.

“Mate.” A thoroughly inhumane voice escaped from the beast, the noise bearing no resemblance to the clinical tones which Jonathan typically possessed. “Mine.”

Even trapped as he were, the claim did not sit well with Edward.

“Never yours.” Edward denied reflexively. “What we have is- ah.” Edward’s words split off into a pained grunt as the left claw of the beast released his shoulder and instead dug into the vulnerable skin of his hand, dragging the extremity down until it was forced against something hard and disturbingly familiar.

Glancing down to the limited space between his body and the heft of the beast, an absurd bubble of laughter and true terror leapt into Edward’s throat as he observed the thick cock – almost as long and thick as his forearm and covered with small pits and ridges – which jutted free of the beasts groin, its cockhead a livid red colour as it remained visibly aroused.

“That’s not going to- Jonathan are you fucking insane? That’ll kill me. Let me go.”

The beast shook its head, a disapproving rumble making Edward’s body vibrate as its claws shook against his skin, digging a little deeper with every movement.

“Mate. Mine.” It repeated with a merciless certainty which made Edward’s stomach drop, genuine terror rising in his throat at the thought of what the beast wanted from him.

Frantic claws made quick work of his slacks and underwear, tearing the expensive fabric to little more than shreds as he remained pinned to the floor and unable to prevent it. At one point a pained yelp escaped Edward’s throat as a searing pain across the left side of his ass told him that the beast had caught his skin with the edge of one claw.

His back pressed against the carpet, Edward could do nothing as the beast dragged his legs apart and pushed them up to the point where the muscles screamed in protest at the rough treatment.

“Jonathan, please don’t. Don’t do this.” Edward begged, almost hysterical. True fear, not often experienced without being preceded by a thick orange cloud, gripped his heart, his body freezing in position like a rabbit cornered by a ravenous wolf. “Please. You’ll tear me in half. Jonathan, please. I’m not ready.”

A small tilt of the beasts’ head was the only hint that it were listening to him. Its mouth opened after a moment, a long tapered tongue trailing free of its teeth and Edward flinched as the appendage licked a stripe down his cheek, leaving a wet trail behind which made him gag into his throat a little. Naked where it counted and thoroughly trapped, the pulse of his racing heart roared in Edward’s ears like a drumbeat, and he was certain his anxieties were palatable.

The beast appeared to enjoy it though and it curled its body lower to snake its tongue across Edward’s groin as it moved down to brush across his exposed ass. The tongue was rough, similar to that of a cat, and as it trailed along Edward’s hole, his body reacted accordingly as it betrayed him and a flush of heat stiffened his cock slightly.

“Jonathan, please.” He begged once again, the words muted but no less desperate.

The inhumane tongue flicked at the bleeding wound it had caused to his raised ass and Edward immediately felt a pleasurable tingle spread from the affected cut through his lower half. An immediate suspicion alit in his mind that the creature’s saliva contained some kind of chemical designed to make him compliant. It would be typical of Jonathan, but Edward was just happy it didn’t appear to be a paralytic as he retained full control of his body, even as he squirmed roughly in place.

With the hunger of a beast, it consumed him. Every calculated lick wettened his hole as it pulsated with the offered pleasure, relaxing despite his best wishes until a sharp gasp escaped him as the beast slipped its tongue within his ass, massaging the tight ring of muscle with a relentless vigour.

As with all pleasant things, it ended much too soon, and Edward found himself adjusted as the beast retracted its tongue and instead lined up the head of its cock with his well-lubricated hole.

Again, fear tore through Edward’s heart as he realised the beast was ready to move on. Whatever pleas may have slipped from his lips were stopped in their tracks as his teeth were forced to grit shut by the horrific burning of his hole as the beast pressed forward, forcing the supple frame below to open up and stretch around its cock.

An animalistic howl snapped free of Edward’s lips as he cockhead of the beast breached his barely prepared hole, his throat constricting as it fought back a retch at the searing pain. Perhaps sensing that its prey were on the precipice of snapping beneath him, the beast paused its movements as it left the first two inches of its cock sheathed within Edward; taking a moment to enjoy the unbearable tightness of its prey.

Its tongue once again slithered free of its mouth, snaking down Edward’s stomach, and brushing a languid line down his half-hard cock as it completed its path towards his ass. Despite the agonising stretch, Edward grunted once again as the soft tongue lapped at the rim of his distended ass, offering what little support it could as it took what it wanted.

The tongue was persistent, and, against his wishes, Edward once again felt the faintest tendrils of pleasure slithering alongside the pain and terror which seized his stiff frame. Already impaled on the beast, his dignity was already marred and so, when he dropped his hand to his hardening cock, he did so with a desperation to gain something from what was happening.

The compliance did not go unnoticed, and the body of the beast curled closer to Edward as its sharp eyes watched his hand pump his cock with clear approval, its twisted lips pulling back to showcase rows of razor-sharp teeth in a cruel smile.

A sense that the creature was mocking him touched at Edward’s senses but the humiliation were a mere drop in the ocean compared to the other pains which afflicted him. Pains which only increased as the creature growled and locked its claws around his hips to turn him around; a move which sparked a horrific burn within his ass as the inhumane cock rotated within him.

Now flipped over to his front, Edward let out the faintest whimper as his face was pressed harshly against the plush carpeting of the office floor. A sharp pain followed by a developing wetness told him that the force of his movement had burst his nose and he used his left hand to wipe at the mess, his fingers trembling terribly against his face. Whatever fight which remained in his body has long since fled as he allowed the beast to throw him around like a ragdoll, hoping his compliance would assure survival.

Razor-sharp teeth moved to threaten to breach the defenceless skin of Edward’s bare neck and a broken plea fell from his lips, vaguely begging for mercy and for the creature to not kill him. The begging appeared to please the beast as a rumble within its chest developed into something resembling a purr; its sharp teeth retracting to be replaced by its tongue as it slipped out to lick at the skin which it had just been threatening, tasting the sweat and fear there as though it were savouring a fine wine.

The beast pushed forward another few inches and Edward offered a broken moan, his insides giving way without mercy as his body shifted to accommodate the invader. Every slight ridge of its cock as it brushed past his abused hole drew a twitch as Edward tried to fight past the pain and enjoy the small flashes of pleasure which refused to leave him alone to his suffering.

“Jonathan. Let me go. Please, you don’t have to do this. You don’t want to do this. Jonathan.” Edward tried to reason, tried to find some magic phrase which would free him but it meant nothing to the beast which only thrust a little harder, the warning enough to spring tears into Edward’s clouded gaze. He was almost folded in half, his legs spread like a whore and the ache from his stretched limbs barely registered against the hollow ache of his ass.

Despite it all, the arousal remained. Through the blazing agony of his abused body. Through the damp scent of the beast which clawed its way down his throat with every gasping inhale. Through the fact that the dignity which he so desperately hung on to had long dissolved in pathetic mewls which escaped his straining lips.

It was like being fucked by a train. Jonathan was large enough, the largest he’d even taken that wasn’t crafted from high-grade silicon, but nothing even close to this. This was too much and every punishing thrust pressed against his prostate in the most terrible way.

Despite it all, the tightening band of arousal which steadily rose alongside the frenzied pain finally seemed ready to snap and Edward clawed his fingers into the carpet as he spilled, hot and messily, across the bottom of his shirt; his release quickly smearing into the carpet as his body was forced to brush against it with every rut.

Something victorious seemed to rumble from the creature at the perceived victory and it growled, unseen in the space atop Edward. Frenzied and light-headed as the pleasure and pain melted into something unbearable, Edward screamed something unintelligible as the tongue of the beast slithered across his hip once more.

Wrapped around the base of his cock, the textured tongue of the beast seemed determined to wring every last drop from his spasming cock and Edward could only offer a series of degrading whimpers under the sadistic assault. His orgasm seemed to prolong itself, the overstimulation making him dry-heave even as the beast never let up in its punishing rut.

Something wet and hot, so hot that it felt almost scalding, made itself known against the abused flesh of Edward’s stretched out ass and he groaned in discomfort, realising that the beast was close and fully intended to come within him.

A strangled scream threatened Edward’s lips as the inhumane length within him seemed to grow, inflating cruelly in such a way that he were instantly reminded of just how ill-prepared his fragile frame was to cope with any additional punishment. His thoughts barely coherent as his breath fell into wicked hyperventilation, Edward was reminded of dogs and how their anatomy in a similar circumstance worked.

“Mate.” The beast snarled, its head pressing against the nook between Edward’s neck and shoulder. “Mine.”

Edward turned and the sight of its teeth - glinting like daggers in the moonlight – proved to be the last thing he perceived before what remained of his strength fled him and he fell into a blissful unconsciousness.

Also cross-posted over on AO3.

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Kinktober Day 7 (Belated)

Masema Dagar - Angry / Fighting / Make Up Sex

Randomised Character/Person - Prompt from this list

"Can you fucking not, for a change!" Masema sneers. "If you tell me where you have been, sure!" You holler back. Masema's face becomes a sneer. "You are not the boss of me." He hisses. "I am not trying to be. I am just worried." You reply. "I am a grown ass man, I can hold my own." He replies harshly.

You heave a deep sigh.

"It is crawling with Seanchan soldiers out there. I don't want you hurt." You tell him firmly. "I'm fine." Masema barks. "Yes, you are now, but next time you might not!" You reply. Masema grits his teeth. "You are impossible, woman!" He yells. "Oh yeah, am I?" You get into his face. "Then why don't you leave!" You sneer.

Masema shoves you into the nearest wall, kissing you fiercely. You moan into his mouth. He pushes his thigh between yours, shoving up against your sex. You whine, grinding down against him.

"I won't fucking leave you. I love you." He growls between two heated kisses. You tangle your fingers into his silky, soft hair, pulling quite firmly. His lips part from yours. "Say that again." You demand. "I love you." Masema repeats.

He grabs you, slightly too harshly, tossing you onto your bed.

"I love you." He says again, with some remnants of anger in his voice, as he begins to undress. You unlace your dress and rid yourself of it. Masema's eyes darken with greed and rove over your bare skin.

He climbs on top of you. "I love you." He insists, kissing you harshly, grinding his pelvis against yours. You moan into his mouth. He is already rockhard and throbbing. You ruck up your skirts, so he grinds down against your core. "Get my breeches." Masema growls. "Make me." You hiss.

Masema grabs your wrist and puts your hand on his crotch. You give him a firm squeeze. Masema geoans darkly, rolling his hips into your touch. "Do it." He says firmly. "Ask me nicely." You muss, even though you do unlace his breeches. "Don't be difficult." Masema hisses. He bucks forward into your touch. "I am not the one picking a fight here." You tell him, slowly deepling down his breeches, but carefully avoiding his cock. Masema scoffs and keeps trying to thrust his cock into your hands.

Once he notices you are not going to cooperate, he focuses on your sex instead.

He opens your folds and thumbs at your clit. You moan sweetly for him. "I really do love you." Masema rasps, leaning in to kiss at your neck. "I am going to make you feel it, I promise." He whispers against your skin. He rubs you so expertly that you can only moan and rock against him. He grins wickedly down on you.

"Look at what a good girl you are being for me." Masema growls. "I don't want to fight, I love you." He hisses.

He tears open your bodice and leans in to lick, nip and suck at your nipples. You moan, running your fingers into his hair, loosening his tight bun. Masema groans, loving the feeling of your fingers in his hair.

Your inner muscles begin to tense and there is hot, liquid lightning in the pit of your stomach. "I'm close." You whimper. "What do you need?" Masema asks. "Your cock." You whine. "Will you beg?" He asks, pinching your clit. "Gha!" You cry out. "I think that is a yes." Masema taunts. He keeps it up until you are quivering and whimpering beneath him, tugging at his hair. Masema groans at every tug.

"I wa-... I .. Oh fuck." You whine.

Masema slowly backs up, unhanding you. You whine at the loss.

"Will you beg?" Masema asks, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock. You whine loudly, on the edge of climax and robbed of your release. "Go on, I want to hear it." Masema leans in to kiss you, almost chastely. "No, love, please. No now. I just want you." You try. "I love you, too. Just .. just make love to me." You reach up to cup his cheek and down him down to you again.

He pushes forward, breaching your core. You moan into his mouth.

"I love you, too." He hisses, before licking into your mouth.

[pinkpoweredpunk]

---

[ATTACHED: A video. Rotom is hurriedly following after Blake as they turn and dash down a dark city alleyway, King jogging along their side at an equal pace.

Before long, they exit the alley and arrive at a what looks like a long abandoned office building, the concrete foundation slowly falling into disrepair and moss crawling up its sides. Blake skids to a halt and pants at they catch their breath, eyeing up the structure like they know they've arrived at the belly of the beast. Rotom turns a little, and you notice a few Plasma Grunts stationed at the entrance conversing. Blake waves a hand towards Rotom and King, gesturing for them to follow, before they duck down behind the shelter of a nearby a crate.

"Huh?" You hear one of the grunts, and then two sets of footsteps as they come over to investigate. Blake and King slide further down to avoid detection, and you catch a glimpse of the guard's chest insignias as they draw close.

"Who's there?"

Blake is dead silent. You wonder if they're even breathing right now.

One of the grunts grows irritated, and begins to stomp forwards. "We heard you! We know you're here! Come out now!"

As soon as he walks within their radius, Blake strikes. They spring up, roll over the crate, and in one swift movement trap the guard in a headlock before pushing him onto the ground. The other one gasps, and quickly whips out a metal stick that'd been hanging from her hip. With press of her thumb to a switch on the side, the tip of the rod begins to crackle blue with electricity.

She holds the weapon over Blake's head, heading to swing it down on them, but is abruptly stopped by a pair of vines entangling around her forearm. Moments later, King comes slamming into her head, and the grunt tumbles sideways onto the ground.

The first grunt writhes in Blake's grip, managing to free his hand and reach for the rod his cohort dropped in her fall. Clumsily swinging the still crackling weapon backwards, he manages to land a hit on their shoulder. A guttural shout erupts from Blake's throat as electricity crackles through their muscles, forcing them to let the man go and scramble away in retreat.

With a smirk, the grunt manages to wobble up onto his knees, holding the rod over his head with intent to strike them with it a second time. Blake recovers quicker than he expected, though, swinging a fist up from their crumpled form on the ground and whamming it right in the side of his face.

The grunt shouts out in pain and falls over, dropping his weapon and slapping a hand over his bruised cheek. Blake grabs him by the collar just before he thumps to the ground, though, and drags him up onto his feet with them before slamming him back against the same crate they’d ambushed him from.

"I'm only going to ask you this once," Blake growls darkly, an almost animalistic sound rumbling from their throat. Something in their eyes burns dangerously, and you swear you see flashes of pale blue and red fluctuating in their irises. "Where is my friend's Munna?"

"Unhand me!" The grunt blurts, flailing about desperately like a Basculin out of water. "Unhand me or I swear, you will face the wrath of Lord Ghetsis!"

Just as he says that, you hear shouts coming from the direction of the building they’d been stationed in front of. Rotom whirls, and you see a crowd of grunts flooding out from the front entrance, Pokéballs and taser rods in hand.

Blake just rolls their eyes, dropping the grunt roughly and bringing a hand up to their mouth. "Everyone! Now!"

At their call, a Druddigon suddenly comes charging onscreen, breathing a stream of fire at the grunts' feet and forcing them to scatter. Not long after, a massive Milotic appears and joins in, blasting a jet of steaming water at the ground and making them scurry in the other direction. At the Milotic's side stands Autumn, and riding on the Druddigon's back is a another girl with long, violet-tinted hair flowing behind her, tied up in two pigtails on either side of her head.

"Iris, Autumn, you take care of these guys!" Blake shouts to the two. "I'm going in to look for-"

Suddenly, you hear something- or multiples somethings- whiz through the air. Autumn's Milotic and Iris' Druddigon suddenly screech out in unison, bodies lighting up with blue electricity before they both collapse onto their sides.

"Mother Hadal!"

"Jorax!"

"Shit-!" Blake curses under their breath, jumping to tackle King to the ground just as a dart comes flying over her head.

Rotom beeps frantically, floating to its trainer's side. A set of footsteps is heard, and it pans the camera for you to see a figure emerge from the shadowy depths of the building. You recognize him- the man that Musharna from one of Blake's previous run-ins with Plasma had disguised itself as.

The grunts snap to attention, and straighten themselves as he walks past. "Lord Ghetsis, sir!"

Blake grunts and slowly begins to lift themself off the ground, meanwhile Ghetsis stalks towards them, cape billowing in his wake and shoes clicking menacingly against the concrete floor. He stops just a couple feet away from them, and Rotom swiftly retreats behind Blake’s shoulder when it sees his intimidating, glowering frown.

Suspense hangs heavy in the air as he silently looks the young trainer and their Servine up and down, before clicking his tongue dryly.

“So you must be the one who’s been stirring up trouble for my knights as of late,” he huffs, disapprovingly. “For someone with so much renown, I must say, you don’t look like much.”

Their face scrunches into a scowl, which only brings an amused smile to the man’s face. “Yes, I know who you are. As most people do. To think the savior of Galar and Kalos has been reduced to nothing more than, what… a lowly street rat? Is that what you were going for?”

Blake curls their fists, but doesn’t move as he continues monologuing. “Quite the bold move to come storming into our little hideout like this. Unfortunately for you, Team Plasma is more than equipped to handle any fool who dares try and come stomping onto our turf.

“We’ll see about that,” Blake huffs. “The gym leader’s on his way here with backup. Whatever cowardly little tricks you fuckers have up your sleeves won’t save you.”

“Hm,” Ghetsis hums thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t be so sure. We have seemed to succeeded in dispatching your friends, by the looks of it.”

“Not for long,” Autumn rebuts, her Milotic shakily beginning to rise up behind her, static still buzzing across the gargantuan serpent’s scales.

“Those darts are strong enough to subdue a Hydreigon,” Ghetsis brushes her off, his smirk only growing when he flicks his gaze to Iris and her Druddigon, who seems to be struggling a significant amount more than Mother Hadal to recover. “We’ll be long gone by the time the paralyzing effects have worn off.”

“You’re not going anywhere until you give back my friend’s Munna, you bastard!” Blake barks, suddenly shoving themself back onto their feet and flinging a hand out. “King, go!”

The Servine is off like a rocket, propelling herself off the ground with a push of her legs and lashing her vines out, before whipping them towards Ghetsis with intents to ensnare him. The old man doesn’t move an inch from where he stands, allowing the vines to draw close.

VVWIP!

The vines suddenly fall limp, and so does King, falling through the air and collapsing like a ragdoll when she hits the ground.

“KING!” Blake cries out, falling to their knees at her side and hastily scooping the Grass-type’s crackling and twitching form into their arms. They pluck a dart from the side of her neck, tossing it aside and squeezing her close. “Oh no, oh no no no-”

A ferocious roar suddenly explodes from behind Blake, and they look up to see the shape of Mother Hadal arching over them, steam building up in her mouth as she prepares another scalding attack. She’s stopped in her tracks though when a second dart lodges itself into the base of her neck, and a third one that plants itself on her side. The giant Milotic lets out a shriek that quickly fizzles out into a weak groan as her long body starts to sway. Blake has to jump and roll out of the way just before they’re crushed under her massive form, and coughs from the dust she kicks up in her wake.

“We have to find whoever’s firing those darts!” Iris cries to the other trainers. “We can’t let Plasma get away this time!”

“Hah! You insolent children are already too late!” Ghetsis cackles. “Nothing you throw our way will be enough. Unlike you undignified trainers, we don’t rely solely on Pokémon to solve all our problems around here.”

“You won’t have far to run, now that we’ve chased you out of your little hiding place!” Blake warns.

“Tsk. You believe this to be our main base of operations?” Ghetsis chuckles lowly, gesturing to the crumbling, run down structure around him. “This was merely a temporary set up to keep tabs on our operations in Castelia. I assure you we have a far more exceptional headquarters than this sad wreck. Not that I will be disclosing the location of it to you, today.”

With that, he turns, barking out an order to his men. “Team Plasma! We’re done here. Roll out!”

“Yes, Lord Ghetsis!” The grunts all respond in chorus, and all start to scatter like mice, hurrying away into the shadows or around the sides of the building.

Ghetsis starts taking his leave as well, but pauses on his way out, breathing in a long, lungful of air. “Tell me,” he begins without turning around. “Are all of you aware of the legend of Unova’s founding?”

There’s no response. He continues anyway. “The black and white dragons appeared before a set of heroes, ones who sought to unite a warring people. One who pursued truth, the other pursuing ideals. These dragons shared their knowledge- and bared their fangs against those who stood against them. Together, the power of the Pokémon and their respective heroes brought unity to the hearts of the people, and that’s how Unova was formed.”

“I didn’t come here for a history lesson, bucko,” Blake grunts, looking like they’re half a second away from lunging at him themself.

Ghetsis simply casts them a glare over his shoulder. “We aim to bring those heroes back to Unova. In this, we will not fail. We will win the people’s hearts and mind, and we will create the world that I… Team Plasma desires.”

“Yeah, in my humble opinion-” Blake spat sarcastically, “-you’ve been doing a pretty shit job at that. I don’t think stealing people’s Pokémon is bound to win over anything, let alone people’s favor.”

“Mwhahaha! Speaking with so much fire, even when the odds are stacked against you!” Ghetsis lets out a cackle, and raises a brow at the young trainer, like he’s impressed. “Perhaps I was wrong about you. You carry a lot of grit. If anything, it’s entertaining. Very well then, I will submit your opinion to my fellow sages. And as a thank you for your time, I also leave you a parting gift…”

He raises a hand, and snaps a finger. “Shadow! Return the Munna!”

In the blink of an eye, a masked man with white hair appears before Blake, causing them to fumble back in alarm. The stranger gives them an icy, empty glare, before extending an arm out to them, Pokéball clutched between his paper white fingers. They eye his hand with caution, before reaching out and accepting it. The second the capsule drops into their palm, the man disappears in a shroud of black smoke.

“The connection shared between people and Pokémon can appear touching at times,” Ghetsis muses, turning his gaze up to the sky. “But, in order for true unity to be achieved, they must liberated utterly from foolish humans. By reviving the hero of Unova, we will accomplish this...”

Without another word, he strides away, letting the darkness of the abandoned building swallow him.

End video.

———

[wh0lemilk0vich]

Ooh ooh more of plumping up king egg!

🌊

I really do have to finish that idea I have, I don't know why it's so hard for me to finish stuff lol.

Anyway, here's something I think about a bunch, it kind of gets away from me at the end but I hope you like it, 🌊anon

CW: canon typical Targaryen sexual practices. Degradation kink. Canon alcohol use.

I still really like the idea of Alicent forcing Aegon to wear a corset to hide how he's been gaining weight. Commissions a court tailor to make them in secret.

Aegon absolutely useless and petulant about getting it on because he complains about how uncomfortable it is, how he feels like a forgotten vessel of dough left to rise until it's burst.

Usually little meek servants get him up, washed and dressed, but one day Alicent tells her second born to get his elder brother out of bed and decent for court and Aemond is more than happy to oblige.

He bursts into the room to see Aegon still passed out despite it nearly being noon, sleeping soundly twisted in the sheets, completely naked, ass bare and rounded in the open air like twin mounds of pudding.

The weight settled upon his brother making him shapely, bottom heavy, curvy and soft in a way that, faced away from him, Aemond could be forgiven for wanting eagerly to bed the plump, womanly figure in front of him. Indeed, the sight was enough to have the Dragonrider stirring in his small clothes.

Taking swift, long strides to Aegon's bed, he grabs and tears the white top linen away to revealing his brother's plush, pink shame. He gives a swift cracking smack to his fat, wobbling arse, earning him a pitiful, almost aroused yelp in return. With a grin, he grabs a fistful of the man's mussed, wavy platinum hair, pulling him up onto his hands and knees, presenting much like a bitch to be mounted.

"Maiden's cunt! How do you end up visibly fatter every time I see you, brother?" Aemond asks cruelly, appraising his sleep and wine addled brother like a feeding hog. With one of his large splayed hands, he hefts and wobbles the blubbery pot of Aegon's gut, testing its weight, feeling the man reflexively trying to suck in. His younger brother scoffs incredulously, giving him a none-too-soft pat to the diaphragm, forcing him to relax those buried muscles and letting the fat round out below him.

"You beast! Unhand me!" Aegon weakly protests, face screwed up as he flaps a dough-soft arm to a side table to scrabble for his goblet.

Almond's patience starts to wear thin.

"For fuck's sake. Allow me," he says as he fills his brother's goblet and pulls him up by the hair to his knees. "It would be a shame if you appeared sober at court for once. Can't have that," he said forcing the overfull cup of Dornish strongwine down his gullet.

Aegon splutters at first before overtaking his brother's pace on his own, throat bobbing as he gulped it down greedily, red rivulets dripping from the corners of his mouth, onto his perky tits and between his cleavage. He pants, grinning dopily, as the chalice was pulled away from his lips, clearly satisfied. His pink tongue poked out licking away the final drops from his ruddy stained lips.

Aemond takes his brother in again. He looks absolutely debauched, eyes glassy, hair a mess, chest heaving, and there, nestled between plush thighs in a soft mound of fat, below his quivering belly, Aegon's unimpressive, fat little cock stood to attention. It twitches when Aemond, roughly handles one of his breasts, tweaking and teasing the nipple. "If these teats grow any larger, I suspect I should be able to sheath my sword between them. Do you suppose that if I suckled hard enough, you might produce milk?"

Aemond can see the effect he's having on his brother, the prince. A miserable, pitiful, ungrateful excuse for a future Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, aroused, panting, gagging to be used, hungry for more abuse. Suddenly annoyed, the younger brother roughly lets go of Aegon's hair, allowing him to crumple back onto the mattress with a whine. He rifles through his brother's wardrobe, certain there was no way half of the items would fit the man they were meant to, before coming upon the piece he was searching for.

"Come now. Enough of your indolence, Mother demands I cinch you into this ridiculous garment and make you presentable for court." This earns him a groan in response.

It takes some manhandling but eventually Aegon ends up in the loosened corset and sitting heavily in Aemond's lap. The latter is of two minds, embarrassed of and for his brother, and yet his own impressive manhood strains against his trousers wanting desperately to be buried between those full, jiggly cheeks.

With a deft movement, Aemond flips their positions, pinning Aegon over the edge of the bed, in such a position that, if he just took a moment to tug down his trousers, he could bury his aching hardness to the hilt in his brother's greedy cunt.

He takes hold of the corset laces and tugs hard, hearing Aegon gasp in pain. The sound eggs Aemond to continue, cinching row after row of laces, tighter and tighter, until Aegon was a whimpering groaning mess below him. He leaned down to whisper in the man's ear, pinning him underneath him, and teasingly rolling his hips to grind his clothed cock against his brother.

"If you want me to fuck you like the fat little whore you are. You're going to do everything in your power to burst these stays and put an end to this farce once and for all. The court and small folk deserve to see what pig their princeling has eaten himself into. And I'll make sure you never forget it, and love every second of it."

[buglyknight]

336) Fuckin' Sick.

Another sleepless night

I stay awake

Wait for you by the lake

Belly of Brandy

Once a week

Make me creep

Will you touch my hand?

Poke at my chest?

Leave me shirtless?

Soaked by sprinklers?

Fuck you

Fuck me

Give me everything

Take my sleep

I'll get by with blisters on my feet

I walk barefoot to my car

Step on pebbles

Every step is worth it

No matter how much it hurts

I'll tip toe across asphalt

-

You call me when you're ready

You laugh when I haven't even done anything

I sprint into view and stand beneath the lamppost

I pose

Laughter

Your laughter is sunlight

It's the greatest feeling in the world

To be by your side

You show me your new tattoo

While you tie your shoe on the fire hydrant

You tie your hair up

I stare are you do it, mesmerized

I tuck my laces into my shoes

I whisper to the schizophrenic spiders

I pick up from a bush

You yell at me because you can't hear what I'm saying

Is she on to us?

We almost got her

Quiet down guys she's going to hear you

She's pretty amazing, right?

You tell me I can't talk to them anymore

We try to web you up

Hit your nose ring

We're aiming for your neck like a garrote

We take a walk down to a nearby high school

When I whisper you tell me to yell

So I start yelling the lies I was whispering

You chide me

Don't yell them if they're lies

I have so much fun with you

Making you laugh is wonderful

Until your head is in your hands with giggles

A small bird lands nearby

I say he's just a friendly lil guy

You say he's probably going to die

He isn't flying away

You say the bird and I are the same

Just- not the death part

When I'm 95, we agree to die together

Triple digits only 5 years away?

We can make it.

Let's live for 75 more years together.

I'll love you all the same.

I promise it.

You threaten to push me in the canal

I stand next to the edge daring

You don't

You threaten to push me over in the grass

You couldn't

Obviously, I'm too strong

Impossibly strong, even

You shoulder check me and I fake a tumble

You admonish me laying in the dirt

You brush the leaf off my back

You threaten to walk home

I call the bluff

You turn back

Grab my arm

Unhand me!

But touch me please, grab onto me!

It's all I have ever wanted

You say I'm small

I'M AVERAGE

Just like that frog

Or the bird

Or the tattoo

Or the alligator

Just an average

Good size

A regular size

You are adamant that it's puny

I agree

Don't say 'yeah' like that

We walk back and

hold hands

I am brimming with joy

Someone kill me now

I'll die the happiest man alive

Then we hold pinkies

You point out when I bring you close

I really wasn't meaning to!

But you say it's cool so..

sick

I'm doing it on purpose now, for sure

You say you're about to pass out

I offer to carry you

We rest at the gableblo

I pretend to be an alpha male

WHICH I AM

Of course

I'm tough, I'm cool

I don't s-stammer my words

I know how to pick up chicks

I get mad amounts of babes

Laid on the daily

I have huge muscles

I'm NOT insecure

I strike a pose

Sometimes, you try to copy them

So, you on the menu?

Let's start over.

Want to have sex?

One more time.

I want you inside me

Wait-

Oh, that one's okay?

Laughter

Your joy is contagious

We look at constellations

I finish endlessly trailing thoughts

Accidentally cut you off

You never finish the thought

Tell me what you were saying! I'm sorry!

I was just thinking out loud!

I get real close to your face

Brim of my hat on your head

We stare at each other wordlessly

Try to fit each other into the light

I squash my imaginary spiders

So that you won't walk home just yet

You get closer as I lean against the railing

Even closer as we look at the stars

You say you'd fight me and as I ready up

Spread my arms out wide

You-

Unexpectedly lean in

Oh, God,

Let me live here forever

I wrap my arms around you

Rub your shoulder and back

With the cruel right-hand

I don't think about it

You rub my forearm

My bicep

My elbow

Is this okay?

You say it is

fuckin' cool,

sick.

Someone kill me now, again!

I'll die the happiest man alive

You're rocking your hip into my thigh

I can't tell if it's on purpose or not

You shift and stop

Bend your back slightly

I must admit, I did look a little

I hold you tight

My hand presses against your stomach

You comment how warm it is

How large they are

I ask if it's okay

You say it is

Again I respond

oh, fuckin',

sick

Let me live here forever, like it's the last time

You're going to walk home again

I'm going to walk away again

What a lovely and awful feeling

Always too short

As we leave you

Thank me for loving you

I say 'Yeah, I love you so much'

And

YOU

SAY

IT

BACK

I am brighter than every star

I am as infinite as the universe

I am-

Soaking Wet.

As the sprinklers turn in our direction

You get behind me, trying to pull me away

But only end up using me as a shield

Right after you said that!

You brat!

I get blasted with water

I only want to hug you more

What a beautiful moment

Let it define me, forever

I'll keep you safe from the water

We walk back and hold hands again

I bring you close

You pinch me

That'll be your new thing, you say

We hug twice

I just don't want to let you go

I sigh out my wow's on the walk back

I touch my own skin like it's ethereal

Imagine you touching my face

My heart flutters, I just want to hold you again

What a beautiful world

To exist with you in it

The backlash creeps in quickly

So, I start begging God

Say a prayer to divinity I don't believe in

Isn't he supposed to be love?

Then why can't I have this always?

Say my vows?

Or is he plague and famine?

Or maybe I'm just some

Dumb ape

You call me on the drive back

I read to you when I get home

listen to you rustle as you fall asleep

Make small noises, small movements

I rest my eyes while I listen

Keep alarms blaring in my ears so I stay awake

When you hang up suddenly, I get up

Late for work

Too busy listening to you

Pretending I am there.

[yueliang-long]

The dragon’s body hits the ground with a resounding thud and a tremor that shakes the earth from the force of the impact.

The sun is warm on his skin, but he feels cold. So cold. He doesn’t move a muscle, weariness weighing him down and seeping so deeply into his bones, he can’t bring himself to move. When he closes his eyes, he pictures the ground swallowing him up and taking him away from the angered eyes of the heavens. He has given his life to the deities above, only to be cast aside and left for dead as if his centuries of service had meant nothing.

He feels a gentle pair of hands peeling him off of the dirt he had slowly been growing acquainted with. Something trails along the soft plane of his cheek and he instinctively flinches away from the touch. As a guardian, he has very little contact with anyone outside of the beings he serves, he had not been allowed to move from his post after all.

Dan Feng— no. He was no longer that person, that name had been stripped away along with his title as Imbibitor Lunae. Just what was he now? Who was he? He doesn’t have answers to that question. His right to an identity had been vanquished along with his exile.

He musters enough strength in his body to squirm, to try and get away from the strong arms that hold him close to a firm body. He opens his eyes, teal meeting unfamiliar warm gold. His struggling is weak, doing nothing more than jostling himself in the other man’s grip. He has to leave, has to try to find his way back home. He knows nothing else.

“Unhand me,” the dragon speaks, voice hoarse and laced with exhaustion. Though he feels no malice coming from the stranger, he doesn’t know what this spirit could possibly want. This fox should not be seen fraternizing with someone who was no longer favored by the Heavens. The dragon cannot allow his presence to ruin the life of others lest the deities he once served hunt him down and destroy him. Who knew what kind of danger would be present to any being that decides to associate with the once proud guardian?

@yueliang-long - foxspirit!jingyuan & dragon!danheng

The legends about the doors to Heavens are as vast as the universe. Each folk has its idea of heaven, and each has its idea on how to get there. Like the legend of the rainbow, about the door to Heavens behind its end. Some also believe that clouds will form the gates, while others suppose that entryways are hidden all around the world, just waiting someone stumble upon them.

Jing Yuan knows that, while there are ways to get to the doors of Heavens, there is no way to pass security. He has tried a few times, merely out of curiosity, but that cute angel named Baiheng would always spin him around and send him back to Earth— well, the one kicking him on the butt wasn’t really the adorable Baiheng, but the angel at her side known as Jingliu. Jing Yuan had given up trying to sneak the first time Jingliu kicked him so strong it sent him flying down but did come back a few times to play with Baiheng.

But that was a long time ago; now, he has his own mountain to protect, and rarely is allowed to leave. Mostly because the moment he leaves, his protection will waver, and there are… things he wishes to protect in this mountain. Somewhat ominous when said by a nine tailed fox, he thinks with a smile. It doesn’t matter. Or perhaps it does? Who knows what kind of secret Jing Yuan is hiding under his tails?

Finches, for one. Even though he’s a fox spirit, the animals love him, and he loves the animals. They don’t have to fight for survival, so the little ones love to make the white fur their home. And its thanks to these adorable, little chirps that he wakes up just in time to witness something— someone?— falling from the sky towards the far end of his mountain. Curious, the fox spirit steps around the forest to find the local of the fallen, golden eyes widening when he notices a somewhat draconic, somewhat human body. At first he thought was a half-lizard, but the power emanating from the creature is much real and commands authority like only a dragon could do.

Just what happened that this dragon has gone through such a huge fall? The fox approaches hurriedly and picks the (interestingly tiny) dragon between his arms, running a finger over a gorgeous, pale face. Mm, he wants to squeeze these cheeks… But controls himself, given the seriousness of the situation. “Come on, little dragon,” whispers the fox, “hold on a little longer. I will get you to my cavern, and we will treat you.”

[standfucker]

short la squadra reader-insert

inspired by the one tumblr post that was like “Blood loss? No I know exactly where it is.”

New information about your mission arrives too late–you had already left hours ago. Risotto sends Prosciutto after you in the hopes he can intercept you before you reach the target.

Prosciutto pulls over at the location and scans the street, looking for signs of a scuffle.

It doesn’t take long.

He follows the corner and sure enough, you’re on the ground, tucked behind the dumpster. There’s an alarming amount of blood on your shirt and on the ground around you.

You’re still conscious, breathing shallowly. As soon as you recognize him, you shift and immediately groan at the pain that it causes. “Ah, fuck….”

“Don’t move,” he says, crouching down next to you.

“The target had a friend. A friend who was a Stand user. Is that what you came to tell me? I already found out.”

“Clearly,” he says, grabbing your wrist and feeling for your pulse. 

“Do you know what he called it?” You said. “Knife Party. I’ll give you one guess as to what it did.”

“Shut up,” he snaps, trying to count your pulse. It’s not looking promising. He’ll have to abandon chasing the target if you’re going to have any chance of surviving.

He wrenched your shirt up, ignoring your immediate protest, and counted five stab wounds in your abdomen. Frankly, it was impressive you were still conscious.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he said decisively.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, even as you made no move to stand. 

Everyone in La Squadra had some kind of quirk, something weird or off about them–it came with the profession. People who killed for a living rarely came out of it stable. And your particularity, maybe even weakness, was that you coped with your lifestyle by being a control freak. It wasn’t unusual for a gangster, though yours ran deep, as he was currently witnessing.

“I can still fight,” you continue, “I’m just a bit dizzy.”

“That would be the blood loss,” Prosciutto explains, losing patience.

“It’s not blood loss. I know exactly where it is.” You weakly point to your soaked shirt, then the pools on the ground. “There and there. Everything is under control.”

“You are delusional,” he grumbles, then lifts you up, an arm under your legs and one under your back. The movement agitates sliced muscles and nerves, and you cry out.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, and is immediately surprised at himself. He was never tender to anyone but Pesci. He rationalizes it away as him feeling sorry for you. You were in a bad way, that was all.

“Unhand me, ham man,” you groan, and it should piss him off, but he feels relieved, which he decides to address at a later date.

“If you can still bitch, I think you’re going to make it. But I’m going to hurry regardless. I won’t have time to be gentle, so you’ll have to endure it.”

True to his word, he hauls you into the back of his car quickly rather than gently, lamenting the fate of the upholstery, and speeds to the closest hospital Passione is affiliated with.

You survive the attack, maybe thanks to him, maybe thanks to your sheer stubbornness. You’re out of commission for a few months, but eventually return to living at the house. Even when you’re recovered enough to be a threat again, enough to do your job, Risotto keeps you off of combat assignments for a few weeks. 

Naturally, you bitch about it. Prosciutto finds it a sign of your returned health and is glad, and subsequently wonders if he should address that at some point.

Ever since the stabbing, you’re gentler toward Prosciutto. Your normally biting comments and short fuse with the other members doesn’t seem to extend to him anymore.

What he doesn’t know is you think about your near death experience a lot as you tried to process it. And at your lowest moment, as you had been dying, you could only remember how he held you as he ran to his car–tightly, securely. You were trying to come to terms with how goddamned safe you had felt in that moment.

You don’t talk about the stabbing outside of your debriefing for a solid few weeks. Then, one day, you approach Prosciutto when he’s smoking on the balcony.

“About a few months ago,” you say.

He takes a deep inhale from his cigarette, watching you.

“Well…”

You’re uncomfortable. It’s all over your face, and in the way you can’t maintain eye contact with him. It’s unlike you. You’re normally so guarded against anyone else.

“I never thanked you. So I wanted to do that.” You glance at him, and then away again. “Thanks for saving my hide.”

Something overcomes Prosciutto. A warm feeling. He keeps his face composed, but reaches out a hand and rests it on the curve of your face.

You stiffen. He keeps watching you, rubbing his thumb along your cheek.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he says. For a split second, you think you see the corners of his mouth twitch up. Then he puts out his cigarette and goes inside, leaving you shell-shocked on the balcony.

[tenkasato]

Sonder

sonder – n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own (Source article)

Scenario: You went to the bar to unwind and forget about your cheating ex-boyfriend. There, you spot an alluring man who can't seem to take his eyes off you.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader

You see him.

Under the glowing lights of the bar, a soft sheen of purple casting over his features, he sits there with a glass of martini in his hand. You tear your gaze away the moment your eyes land on him, the zap of his stare trickling down your spine in an oddly pleasurable manner.

Your friends were right.

That man has been staring at you for some time now, but you didn't want to believe them until you did look his way. You bite your lower lip consciously before sneaking another surreptitious glance under your curled lashes.

He catches you looking, his lips stretching to a gorgeous smile. Slowly, he gets off his seat and starts ambling towards you. Your heart jumps inside your ribcage upon this realization. Already, your face flushes the same color as your fiery red cocktail dress. Your ears ring, and you start to break into cold sweats.

By the time you unlock your muscles to swivel away, he's already a few feet away from you.

"Hi," he starts. 

His voice sends a surge of warmth inside your chest. You realize with painful clarity that you can no longer look away from the man in front of you. He has snowy white hair that looks soft to touch that you want to run your fingers across the locks. Despite being in a dim place, he wore a pair of round glasses that only manage to give you a peak at the crystal-like irises behind them. The first two buttons of his dress shirt are undone, giving you a little view of his well-toned physique.

You swallow thickly, a tiny action that does not go unnoticed as he smiles wider.

"Hello," you answer timidly, reaching out to his offered hand for a shake. He surprises you instead by brushing his lips against the coolness of your hand.

"I'm Gojo Satoru," he continues as he politely drops your hand. "The stars must favor me tonight for having to let me meet a beauty like you."

You snort, not expecting a cheesy line like that from the sleek-looking Gojo. Remembering your position, you look towards your friends who are shamelessly egging you on with borderline lewd gestures. You sneer at them before turning back to Gojo.

"Your name, missy?" he asks, leaning against the bar.

You open your mouth and utter your reply, but you find the blaring music rather deafening. You flinch at the sound, and Gojo grimaces towards the balcony where the DJ ramps up her jams. 

"Didn't hear you the first time around," he tells you, closing the distance to speak next to your ear. His breath tickles you as he goes on, "Say that again?"

You aren't even supposed to be here. This was all your friends' idea to take you out to chill, get drunk and have some fun after what your life crashed into. Your gut tells you to run. This is probably a bad idea. You're likely going to regret this the next day you unglue your eyes back to the reality that refuses to unhand you. And yet, as you drown into the pools of Gojo's eyes, recklessness surges from the pit of your stomach to grip at your heart.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" you shout over the roar of the music. "Some—somewhere quieter where we can talk?"

Something flashes behind his eyes, a grin capturing his lips. When he nods, you waste no time and pull him by his wrist towards the exit. You hastily find your car and unlock it for him.

"Where to?" he asks, relaxed but nonetheless excited.

Gojo has his hand in his pockets as he waits for you to reply. Sheepishly, you answer, "Is my place fine?"

"Perfect."

The atmosphere during the ride back home is least to say charged with tension. Gojo fills the bouts of silence with small talks about something as trivial as the weather, but that did absolutely nothing to ease the tingling nerves buzzing under your skin. You're shaking with apprehension tinged with naughty anticipation. 

The moment you arrive, you tear your door open and welcome him inside your small flat. Gojo removes his shoes and hangs his coat just as you flicker the lights open.

"Looks cozy," he whistles as he looks around the place, fingers sliding across the worn out leather sofa in the middle of the room. 

You wring your hands together, unsure of what to say next. 

"May I?" he asks smoothly, gesturing towards the door to your room. 

"Oh, oh, yes," you chime in, practically bouncing in nervousness. "How rude of me."

You make your way towards your room where you hurriedly pick up the clothes from your bed to deposit them in the laundry basket. Smoothing out the covers of your bed, you swallow the lump that's formed inside your throat. 

You hear his light footsteps behind you, and almost immediately heat rushes through your core. You turn around, hands shooting out to grab his and pull him towards the corner of your bed.

Gojo's eyes widen at the sudden action but says nothing as he sits beside you.

With trembling hands, you start to reach behind the zipper of your dress. You squeeze your legs together when you notice him staring at you, his shades long since discarded. You stare at his eyes in awe that you almost forgot your awkward position, hand stretched behind you. 

Letting out a defeated sigh, you drop your hands to your lap. "I'm not very good at this, Gojo-san."

He blinks. "What do you mean?"

"I—" your breath hitch as the humiliation finally cripples your tongue. You gulp and go on, "Sex. I'm not... It's not something I've ever done before. I know you expected someone who'd give you a good time tonight. I'm sorry to disappoint. If you want, you can lead the way or you could just leav—"

"Woah, woah, there, missy," he interjects you with raised hands. You both stare at each other for a few seconds before you avert your gaze away. A sigh escapes his lips. Gojo puts his hands onto your bed and leans back a little. 

"What did you think I came here for anyway?" he asks, tone thoughtful.

"I—" and again, you were tongue-tied. You clear your throat. "I thought you came here with me to sleep with me."

"Why?"

"Why?" you repeat, a bit incredulous. "Don't people do that? I mean why else would you follow someone you just met in the bar? Isn't it to get laid?"

"I'm a bit curious. You don't seem like you do that often judging by your behaviour. Enlighten me, then. Why did you suddenly ask a stranger to come home with you?"

You look at him as if you've been caught red-handed. Gojo patiently waits for you to recover.

"My boyfriend cheated on me," you admit, feeling a ball of ice form inside your stomach. You straighten out your skirt, "I haven't gone out since then. I didn't want to go out. I skipped work. I refused calls from my family and friends. I pitifully wallowed in my own loneliness inside my room, until my friends grew tired of it and crashed into my house and forced me to go out with them."

"Is that how you ended up in the bar against your will?" he chuckles.

"They said I just needed some good fuck," you tell him, wincing at how ridiculous it now sounded when spoken out loud. "And then I found you staring..." 

The string of laughter that follows surprises you. His voice is rich and baritone, one that makes you want to just melt into a puddle on the floor. 

"You were so beautiful I couldn't help it, doll," he says. "When I came to you, I genuinely wanted to get to know you. Of course, that doesn't mean I don't want to make love to you, but that's not the reason I went with you here."

"It's not?" you ask, cheeks burning in embarrassment.

"Don't get me wrong. I do find you incredibly hot, and I do want to fuck—"

You blush harder and look anywhere else but his face.

"—but that's not what you need right now, is it? You need someone to listen, someone to watch horror movies with, someone to massage your feet, and someone to cuddle with you while you sleep. If you're willing, I can be that someone tonight."

There was something so earnest about how his wide smile tones down a bit as he comes closer. Gojo brushes the stray hair from your face before pressing his lips to your temple. 

"So, do you want that?" he asks, "or do you just want to have sex instead?"

"I—I'll choose the former."

"Alright," he hums and offers you his hand. "Then let's start by cooking ourselves some midnight snacks. Do you have food?"

"Cup noodles," you laugh and lead him to the kitchen.

The rest of the night you spent was just like what Gojo said. After trying to beat each other on who can gobble down some Korean spicy noodles faster, you changed to some comfortable flannels and joined him on the couch. Gojo barely flinched during the whole duration of the horror movie you watched. He told you he's seen worse with such a serious expression you didn't know what to make of it. He held your hand the whole time. 

Once the movie ended, he carried you to your bed as you ranted about how stupid the main character was. He offered to massage your feet just as he's promised but you beckon him to you.

Gojo lied beside you, kept you locked up in his embrace as you listened to the rhythmic beating of his heart. He smelled of citrus and soap. You learned that Gojo loved kissing your temple. 

"Can we stay friends?" you ask him, the sleepiness making your speech slurred.

He hums. "Do you want to?"

"Do you?"

He doesn't answer. You think he's already drifted to sleep, his breathing steady and slower. You sigh, letting your eyelids flutter close as you wrap an arm around his waist.

"Well, I want to be friends," you say. "Thanks for tonight, Gojo."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He was right.

One of Sukuna's fingers is inside your house after all. 

Gojo Satoru carefully wraps the severed appendage around the cloth Ieiri gave him and throws a contemptuous glance at the box of deliveries by the corner of your kitchen. He doesn't know if someone sent the cursed object to you by accident, but regardless of whatever brought it here, it put your life in danger.

You were lucky he spotted you in that bar. The dark aura surrounding you practically screamed at Gojo. 

He curses under his breath, the mere thought of heinous creatures tearing down your home and taking away that bright smile on your face making his blood run cold.

He looks back to where you're bundled up in your blankets, a feather of smile lingering in those lips.

Friends? Of course he wants to stay friends. You're kind. You're sweet. He hungers to get to know you more—what type of clothes you wear on a daily basis, what favorite drink you order, what ticks you off, what makes you laugh. Gojo cannot deny the way his heart skips whenever you look at him.

But as he stuffs the finger in the bag, he wonders if his presence in your life will bring more harm than good. Danger follows him everywhere. Heck, he chases the danger himself. Such is the life of a sorcerer. Gojo knows he won't be able to forgive himself if something were to happen to you because of him.

With the grim and bitter thought etched in his mind, he begrudgingly steps out of your house.