#I need to just bawl my eyes out for a bit against their chest... ;;^;;

[novabun-ships]

I'm starting to get a sore throat, can we no? This week has been hell enough with the heat, the headache, the vertigo, the shark week starting. Can we please not do the "getting sick" bit too?

Gonna need my partners to come and take extra care of me...I'm exceptionally whiny and pouty and clingy and—

[moechies]

would you mayhaps mind writing more toji x bunny!hybrid reader... perchance...

pretty pleek 🥺

(ALSO I LOVE YOUR WORKS SM AHHH)

cw ❤︎ bunny is a little weird ‘n loves sniffing toji’s fat bawls ;( don’t make fun of her ! toji makin bunny jealous , throatfuckin !!!

you’re a possessive, insatiable, and messy little thing. and although he does truly love every single one of your animalistic traits, it’s definitely something anybody would find out of the ordinary. not like he minds a bit.

₊˚⊹ ❤︎

toji adores the way you pout, eyes growing bleary when he tells you he needs to leave the home for work. it’s not so much him needing to do his job, but at the mention of a ‘she’ twined into one of his sentences, and now it’s the only thing you find yourself focusing on.

he urges you not to cry, hoisting you onto his lap and pressing your hiccuping self into his warm chest before shushing you gently. but you don’t see the ill-intentioned smirk that spreads across his plum lips as he soothes you from above.

“mhm, it’s an overnight mission, s’i won’t be home till tomorrow, bun.”

“a-are you going to sleep with her ? in the same bed ?” you question meekly, and toji lets out an unassuring hum.

toji loves working you up with his words, and bringing you back down with his cock. it’s so much of a game to him, but not to you.

your poor sensitive heart clenches when he offers no sort of affirmation, leaving your little mind to wonder aimlessly. your chest huffs with both frustration and anger at his pauses, quickly attempting to pull off his chest and away from the mean, mean man.

“i-i hate you !”

but no, he doesn’t let you pull off. he holds you down tight, thighs clad against his meatier ones as his stiff cock prods against your warm cunt. “g-get.. away !” you yelp, turning away to avoid the man from seeing the falling tears that leak from your pretty eyes.

“shh, bunny. c’mere.” he chuckles, pressing your resisting chest against his despite your tried efforts, pressing gentle kisses across your face covered with streaky tears. “‘course ‘m not gonna sleep with her, dumb bunny.” you hiccup, refusing to look into him before plopping your cheek against his chest.

“liar . ‘m gonna kill her.” you whisper.

toji chuckles again, petting your hair and soft, fallen ears, pulling them up high to resemble your usual happy persona with perky ears.

“don’t be so naive, bun. ‘m yours, and yer mines. promise, hm ?”

“p-promise ?”

“i do, i promise.” he speaks, humping his bulge against your chubby cunt. you yelp, reaching out for toji’s arms for support. “c’mere. let me make it up to my bunny for bein’ s’mean.”

❤︎ ₊˚⊹

the sun’s glare peeks through the translucent curtains, waking toji from his slumber. he groans, reaching his arm over expectingly, wanting nothing more but to envelop your soft body into his; just to feel his arm fall against soft sheets instead of your skin.

the sudden throbbing ache in between his legs feels much more prominent than before, his thigh twitching at the unfamiliar feeling.

he cracks an eye open, peeking down, and…

he can’t believe his eyes.

you; your insatiable little self, with his boxers tugged barely below his sack, and your little hand pushing back on the base of his cock. your nose is nuzzled against his fat, dewy balls, taking deep inhales of his musky scent. his vision trails down your other arm, leading his sight to your hand in between your soft thighs, erratically pumping two little digits in your chubby pussy while grinding onto a soft, white pillow all at once.

“m—mister… hnnn,”

your nose twitches incessantly, nuzzling the bud impossibly deep against his manhood, little pink tongue even slipping out to get a taste.

your ears flare out to the side of your body, hairs standing, cottontail twitching because he knows you’re just so close, you’re almost there, and your little pouting lips trying their hardest to keep your mewls quiet.

and finally, you let out a content cry, filthing your tiny fingers in thick, creamy cum. your humping comes to a slow, and you finish the job by leaving a long lick of saliva against toji’s cock for one last moment of wonder.

toji can’t help but laugh, scaring the bunny life out of you. you freeze, but he stops moving. it’s just a dream, right ? there’s no way you woke him up.

and just when you’re about to scurry away, clean up your mess and slip back into the sheets as if nothing every happened, there’s a hard tug on your sensitive little ears, one that drags you back towards your boyfriend’s standing cock where you were just a few seconds ago.

did you really think he wouldn’t notice ? poor bunny.

you squeak, his cock is harshly pressed into your warm gaped, mouth, and—

“what a rude bunny. usin’ me t’get that weeping cunny off without somethin’ in return. y’owe me this, hm ?”

₊˚⊹ ❤︎

“y’r so damn messy.”

toji grumbles, fingers threading through your hair, tugging at your ears.

his thighs are covered in your sticky slobber, strings of saliva dripping down his length and falling against his bushy base.

you don’t care. a mess is easy to clean and temporary, but who knows when your owner will leave on a mission, allowing your mouth to be empty for days ?

your cheek bulges with his chub, his pre slipping against the soft flesh of your mouth and leaving a salted flavor against your tongue.

“c’mon, take it deeper.” toji urges, adjusting your little face by your hair so that his pudgy tip lays against your throat.

“bigggg stretch, bunny.” he giggles, watching your eyes widen and hands slap against his meaty thigh when he presses down your unprepared throat, stretching the resistant flesh violently. you gag a multitude of times, mouth leaking uncontrollably as if you’re lubing toji for a smoother process.

“looks like this messy bunny mouth does have some good use f’it, hm ?”

❤︎ ₊˚⊹

[screampied]

‘ SAVE A HORSE, MILK A . . DEMON ?! ’

ᡴꪫ sum. who would’ve known the king of curses can lactate? not you and certainly not him. this is dire, he needs help but more importantly - he needs you.

warnings. fem! reader, heian era, vırgin sukuna, pùssy drunk sukuna, established relationship, unprotected, láctation (sukuna), we literally milk him, squırting, nıpple play, brēeding, brief ōral (f! receiving), premature ejac, overstim, praise.

wc. 5.7k

an. elaborating more on here. need him so bad

“you, c’mere,” you pause dead in your tracks, feeling a bit special that the sukuna ryomen, your worthy king was seeking out for you. his voice was loud, it rang through the walls of his kingly chambers before huffing out a single breath. he rests on his throne - bawled fist smushing into the edge of his cheek and he grumbles. “quickly, woman. close the door behind you.”

without replying, you do as you’re told. closing the old wooden doors, they shut with a bang. the demon’s eye twitches and he does a quick scan around his domain — empty, good. “are you okay, my lord?” you break the silence with glossed eyes, gazing how his body language was more awkward than normal. he lets out a blow, flushed face growing heated the second your mouth opens. crimson red eyes peer into you and his hair was a bit more ruffled - sukuna’s kimono was halfway on and he looked like he was burning up.

“what do you think?” he snarls, and he rolls his eyes before staring at the ground. “tch, anyways. i . . require your pathetic aid, brat. i don’t ask for anything but—”

“just tell me what’s wrong.”

with a abrupt scoff, he yanks off the silky woven fabric of his kimono - callused fingertips brushing against the material. your eyes ogle at the sight he’s showing you, his exposed body. you’ve seen him shirtless countless of times but this time, it was different. the second your eyes rover toward his swollen perky nipples, you see it. pearly remnants of white droplets seep from him and you hold back a sheepish snort.

“oh,” and you’re stunned, hearing him groan. although it didn’t sound like an irritated groan as usual—it sounded more pleasurable. sukuna buries his sharp fingertips into his thigh before you inch closer, softening your voice. “my lord. are you . . lactating?”

there’s a long pause—his chest huffs and his pink cheeks puff out. the more you laid your eyes on him, the more embarrassed he became.

the air surrounding the both of you suddenly felt hot, and with one of his hands, he tightens his grip against his throne’s armrest. “no, i don’t even know what this is,” he gruffs, and his breath hitches once you come closer to fully examine him. your eyes skim down every part of his body. with his kimono hanging onto him by a thread, it’s almost falling off his body. you gaze at his perfectly sculptured body. his muscles—you could stare all day if you really wanted. people would kill to be this close to the king, and yet here you were. his pecs seemed a bit tender from appearance and his entire body was sheeny, covered with a shiny coat of sweat. his ancient tattoo markings that paint his skin—they were glowing a bit too, glowing an almost crystalline color. “tch. stop starin’ at it. it’s creepin’ me out.”

“sorry,” you hum, but you don’t lose sight at all. you couldn’t. averting your eyes back toward the problem, as you spoke—each nipple was leaking with creamy substance. “um, so how long has this been happening, my lord?”

sukuna slumps back against his throne in exhaustion. he’s breaking an entire cold sweat and his mind was in a literal euphoric daze.

his entire body feels like it’s sweltering with heat, it’s purely indescribable. but it feels good.

it takes him a good seven seconds before he finally murmurs out a hoarse reply. “ugh, it maybe started about a hour ago,” and he pauses, gnawing down on his bottom lip. you watch and you couldn’t lie—seeing him like this, so vulnerable and desperate—it did something to you. you’re so used to a ruthless cold-hearted king, it’s like this current sukuna was an entire different person, an imposter. briefly, ruby-red eyes meet back toward you. “just make it stop. please.”

“what—” you murmur, and your wrist was gently pulled upon. you don’t pull away from his grasp and he leads your hand closer toward his chest. his entire abdomen, it was so warm. sukuna was burning up, and now that your fingertips were brushing up and down against his skin, he was even hotter.

“don’t say anything, woman,” he curses, shame tremoring underneath his husky tone.

sukuna ryōmen was embarrassed, and his awkward body language was a dead giveaway.

the past hour was absolute hell for him, ironic considering. you can hear him panting between broken sentences before he lightly squeezes your wrist. “touch me. i think physical touch might h- help,” he grunts a stammer, back pressing into his steel made throne. “i read somewhere that you might ease my um . . issue if you touch me.”

“you mean ease your lactating?” you tease, taking the opportunity to get right on his lap. at the second you do, his breath hitches. the audacity, your legs wrap around his slim torso before meeting his glossed gaze.

sukuna grimaces. “don’t call it that, brat,” sucking his teeth in annoyance, he rests back against his kingly seat, eyeing you cautiously. a few of his arms grab ahold of your waist, pulling you closer. his pecs tense up at the proximity of bodies closing the remaining distance. his nipples were even more swollen by this point, and you couldn’t help but stare—gawk at the uncanny sight right in front of you. “but yeah. just do something.”

with the demon right underneath you, you felt him shiver once you scoot up against his lap. tresses of pink spiked hair were unkempt, sticking to his forehead as he’s just bathing in his own sweat. this entire situation had him hot, but your touch was only going to make it so much worse. he swallows the circular lump that forms in his throat only to then grow quiet as he watched you lower your head toward his chiseled pecs.

he’s so toned, you spot a few prodding veins roam down each of his four arms—perfectly coating his body along with his scars and ancient notorious marks. sukuna’s entire body was a canvas that you didn’t mind exploring. his entire body was painted either markings, you just wanted to see more of him.

the inside of his royal chambers was quiet, deadly quiet.

so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

“may i?” you murmur, using the padded print of your thumb to gingerly smear the dripping substance that leaks from his nipple. the way it poured out of him so effortlessly, it was so lewd.

you knew judging from his changing breath patterns that his pecs were where he was most sensitive. it wasn’t exactly rocket science.

although it’s the heian era—most would have took sukuna as a king who’s had his fair share of women. he has, but never anything intimate. he was secretly sensitive and shy, and furthermore, even touch alone was enough to get him off. with you though, he never minded your touch. it was his favorite.

“hmph. do your w- worst,” the demon grumbles, trying to have a bit of attitude but it’s clear he’s already wrapped around your pretty little finger.

he called you out of all his other servants and concubines for a reason. to him, he didn’t see you as either role, but rather just a human.

his human, maybe even his favorite.

at his bellowing comply, you bring your lips closer toward his chest. with hooded eyes—he ogles at the sight, his throne occasionally creaking at the moving pounds of weight that’s creating pressure.

as your head goes further into him, you do the least thing he’d expect. you latch your lips against his right nipple. sukuna lets off a throaty gasp, feeling your warm welcoming lips cling onto his pec with such ease.

“ugh, brat,” he groans, burying a few darkened nails into his left knee. it was tame—it was tame until your tongue decided to feature itself in, flicking slowly against his leaking nipple. you moan, fluttering your lashes shut as you savor the creamy taste that trickles its way into your mouth. “fuck, i said touch not s- suck.” and he finds himself pulling you closer, using a hand to cradle the back of your head. he’s never felt such a feeling. his pec was positioned right in your mouth and it felt so good.

you lean into his touch, sliding your twitching tongue in different directions purposely just to feel him squirm.

one of his arms drags you tighter, wrapping around your torso as you occupy your mouth.

the taste was sweet, it’s as if this entire thing was some sort of fantasy. of course—you had lots of questions, for starters—since when can demons lactate? rephrase that, since when can sukuna ryōmen lactate? but you were more of the ‘do first ask later’ type considering you were too busy to even ponder more of the thought.

sukuna bites his lip, feeling a strain in his boxers as he hears the occasional pops and slurrrrps of your mouth. “y- you’re fuckin’ nasty,” he huffs, but his voice cracks, butchering his once intimidating delivery entirely.

nasty but he didn’t want you to stop,

nasty but he felt himself getting hard the more you grind against his lap,

nasty but he’s holding back his needy bratty moans by biting his fangs down on his tongue.

sukuna purses his arched pink brows together into a frustrated furrow as his head tosses itself back. within seconds, you taste more of the candied flavor — it’s almost got a bit of a bittersweet honey taste to it. it sprinkles onto your sensitive taste buds and your eyes squeeze a bit, moving your head against each of his pecs to give them both equal amounts of attention. the demon’s nipples were even more red and swollen now, glimmering with your saliva dribbling from the centers. “hah, f- fuck,” he breathes, still maintaining a grip on the back of your head. you sit up to collect breaths yourself, licking your stained lips before he stares at you. his eyelids lower and he’s already whipped. “i— oh fuck.”

you raise a brow, opening your mouth to speak before you suddenly pause.

sukuna was quiet, too quiet.

with his kimono still half on, he’s practically shirtless. toned chiseled pecs stare at you right in the eye before you feel the heavy print of his dick directly underneath your shorts.

“my lord,” you sheepishly rub your neck, fingertips skimming against the few hairs that stand. there’s a certain wet spot that’s damp on the fabric of his lower clothing. your words were smooth, he could listen to you speak all day. with a smug smile curling against the corners of your lips, you throw your arms over his broad shoulders. “did you just . . cum?”

“nonsense,” sukuna denies you right away, the cutest grump of a pout stretching against his lips.

but, oh he did.

and it was a tough pill to swallow. sukuna, the sukuna who’s often known as his righteous title of being the king of curses, feared upon many, had just came. not only that, but he came from you sucking on his nipples. he came from the little problem he was currently having. out of all the enemies he’s beaten—this had to be the toughest one. he didn’t know how to deal with it nor did he know how to defeat it. the weakness was him.

and yet, that’s why he called you.

the feeling of your warm rotund lips attached to his nipples, he already missed it. it’s been seconds since you pried your mouth away and he missed it so bad. the way you sucked against his tender skin, your hot breaths fanning into his skin, making him even more hot.

sukuna was having withdrawals of you and your tongue slowly lapping up the excess ‘milk’ that dribbled out of each nipple.

this was crazy,

this is crazy.

he’s a demon for crying out loud—he’s never heard of demons doing such things. lactation. what even is lactation? sukuna knows such an activity was for women, not him.

but here he was, weak and panting like a dog, all for more of your beloved touch.

sukuna’s lying back, staring at you with docile blown irises—he’s at his worst, clammy hands never leaving the sides of your waist.

“fine. i . . came,” he murmurs in defeat, taking every spare second to gasp for air.

he’s drowning in sweat, probably drowning in his own heat too. with a pout continuing to compress across his lips, his voice lowers. but once you prepare to sit up, he lightly grabs your wrist. “fuck, don’t go yet,” he utters, knowing you did your part successfully in helping him. he hated how he was suddenly so weak, so dependent, so . . . submissive.

after all, you did help ease him a bit— although he was still begging for more.

it was as if some sort of sorcery spell was casted on him. this was a curse, yeah it had to be.

to sukuna, it couldn’t have been a more reasonable explanation. you peer at him as he speaks and he’s trying to find the exact right words without embarrassing himself. there’s a scowl that continues to marinate agaunst facial features before he sighs. “i- there’s somethin’ else,” he admits, hanging his head down in ignominy. he’s annoyed, sukuna groans at the words that were hanging onto his teeth—trying desperately not to slip them out but he can’t take it anymore.

he wants you.

he needs you.

“since you helped with my . . situation, it’s made me a little um—famished.”

you gulp, barely catching on to what he was implying—yet with a blink of an eye, you then find yourself arched over the arm of sukuna’s throne.

“i’m so fuckin’ starved,” he grunts, using a hand to caress the bare skin of your exposed flesh. serrated fingertips lightly graze against you as he feels everywhere that’s presented to him. the palm of his hand feels all up and down your curves, taking in your gorgeous physiques. he wanted to touch you. sukuna was horrible at expressing his feelings—yet he found himself humping his pillow at the thought of you. he didn’t know how to voice how bad he wanted you, but now that this moment was finally here, he couldn’t waste anymore time.

you’re so pretty, especially in such a erotic position. it seems as though a wave of clouded lust wafts in the air. sukuna tugs on the hem of your shorts, so needy to get a taste. he was dehydrated—but not for water.

“please,” a husky low voice pleads, groans and groans scratching out of his throat. you decide to tease him, wriggling your ass in the air right in front of his face before he hisses. “tsk. such a brat.”

“go ‘head.” you mumble, clinging onto the edge of the throne for support.

your positioning was a bit awkward but you made it work. you bury your head into your arms before he shifts—sitting up to prop himself right against you from behind.

sukuna wastes no time, dragging your shorts to your knees before scoffing at your laced panties. so soaked, his tongue eagerly licks against his lips as if it was natural animal instinct.

you weren’t just soaked, you were sopping.

he saw the dampened fabric and couldn’t help but lean in—placing his tongue right against the wet spot that formed. “ngh,” he purrs, and you feel the texture of his forked tongue tickle against your protected clit. you moan, biting back on your incoming words and growls before he gives your sloppy entrance a chaste kiss. “god, w- what’s wrong with me. i feel so hot.”

pathetically, he’s stammering out a bunch of words as he slowly laps his tongue against your sobbing cunt. sukuna grumbles in exasperation at how your panties got in the way of his ‘meal’ but literally forgot he had to actually pry take them off of you.

he was lazy though — so instead, he easily pulls them to the side to get a better and wetter view.

“so sloppy,” he snickers, admiring the way you’re dribbling with slick. it’s so ethereal, nothing like he’s ever seen before. a translucent tint colors down your drooling folds and you gasp once he starts to suck against your pussy. almost immediately, you throb right in his mouth and he feels the greeting pulse. “mhh—stay still, let me eat p-please.”

sukuna sounds so desperate—you don’t think you’ve ever heard your king beg.

he wasn’t begging for forgiveness, to cleanse sins, nothing of the sort. but alas, instead, he was just begging for pussy.

your pussy.

he couldn’t help it, especially when you tasted so good. your flavor was something he severely dreamt of devouring.

you might have just been his favorite for a reason. sukuna groans as his tongue maneuvers in multiple directions near your clit until he slurps vigorously against your tender labia. “fuck, m- my lord,” you whine, the stickiness between your thighs soaking more onto your skin.

you were dripping like a faucet, and it doesn’t take that long before his entire chin gets coated with your syrupy arousal.

it’s to no one’s surprise really, and he doesn’t even mind. he’s honored, lapping it up with his tongue before blowing his warm breath against your spiraling convulsing cunt. your breath continues to hitch and hitch as he dives his deeper. the button tip of his nose swipes back ‘n forth against your folds and you whimper.

he’s slurping you clean, through and through. sukuna’s got two wide hands to spread your ass apart more, delving his long pink tongue back and forth between your puffed entrance—you whimper out his regal title of his name and it falls off your tongue in such a sweet way every time. “y- your tongue’s so long, fuck. right there, don’t stoppp.”

but tasting you wasn’t enough - he wanted more.

strings of your webby slick entangle with his saliva as he suddenly departs his lips away. he’s gasping for air, swiping a tongue near your puckering hole before spitting right on it. a hand feels against your twitching cunt before he spanks it — his palm now coated with your slick.

you were sopping wet, and with how you just spurt on his hand, he wanted to make you wet even more.

it’s slow,

he watches with hooded eyes as your soddened entrance gets soaked and even more drenched. all from his hands and tongue. you could only imagine what he actually felt like from the inside.

“more,” was all he could moan out, and his pecs started to feel tender again.

his body was so strange—there’s a weird sensation that’s tingling in every part of him but it feels good.

you pout once he abruptly stops eating you out, only for him to flip you over. facing him and back on his lap, you’re met with the hungry eyes of a demon who wants more than just a taste.

he wants you.

with the help of his arms, he positions you upright on his lap again. you’re straddling him—but the difference was that you didn’t have any shorts on from before. “i- i want you to ride me, woman. can you do that?” and you can hear the faint plead in his voice—he looks desperate, he was breaking more sweats as each second passes.

“yeah,” you hum, cupping his face.

the demon surprisingly leans into his touch. the warmth of your palms made his heart stir into mush. a hand of his reaches down to play with the string of your panties that was shoved to the side but with quick reflexes—you grab his wrist. “nuh uh,” and he scowls, watching as you use your other hand to spring out his achy cock. “no touching just yet.”

he bares a fang at you. the nerve, if it was anyone else it’d be off with their head in an instant. but to sukuna, he found your teasing behavior to be quite . . cute.

of course, he’d rather perish than admit that thought to your face. just like how he secretly fantasizes about you but— he wants to keep at least some pride, even if it’s just a little.

“keh, you’re getting cocky, brat. remember your place,” he grouses, pink brows tugging amongst each other. his pout never left him and it only made him more adorable. sukuna’s eyes flicker down at your hand that’s now wrapped around his length. he swallows thickly, a breath of fresh air leaving from his full lungs. “hurry up. don’t got all da—”

“you talk too much,” you press your palm over his mouth, silencing the remaining of his sentence.

you’re met with a stone cold glare—but his vexed gaze gradually turns into a look of desired pleasure once you’re aligning yourself on his leaky tip.

his lips were so close to your palm - out of nowhere, you then feel his tongue lick against your hand. you refrain from giggling before feeling his angered tip slowly start to insert its way inside. the stretch, he’s so thick that your mouth drops open and you moan. he’s finally going inside—it’s better than he thought it would be. you’re so hot inside and it’s got his head spinning. gnawing on the skin of your lip, you let off a soft shaky whine. “fuck, you’re so big.”

he shakes his head, making you loosen your grip against his mouth before he boasts loudly. “heh, of course i’m big. you wouldn’t last a second with both of my cocks. i’d break you in hal— shit.”

he’s cut off by the rudeness of your cunt. you sink down on him and his tip poked a certain area inside of you that scratches your brain.

you bite back an incoming moan as your swollen cunt constricts around his length invitingly. his tip blushes inside—you reel into him, an attempt to steady yourself before already gasping for air.

the girthy stretch was immaculate, the base of his cock was tannish and already preparing itself to be milked. sukuna had a bit of a hooked curve. you felt it and you felt the stretch.

it was purely appetizing, almost drool worthy. just a few seconds in and he was already rearranging your insides. as you’re trying to start up a pace, you don’t know why but the thought of taking both of sukuna’s cocks made you a lot more wetter than you thought it would.

he’s mentioned it at least once or twice and you knew for a fact he probably would break you. there’s no probably, he really would. the demon was twice your size—alas anything was possible.

you lean in for a kiss and he instantly responds by returning the gesture. you taste so flavorsome and sweet - his tongue swirls against the lip gloss that paints on your mouth before he groans.

with lips moving in syncing tavern, you start to rock your hips a bit quicker.

the creaking of his throne gets louder until it’s just echoing, bouncing off the ancient walls of his chambers.

your cunt was just being ravaged by his hefty size, he’s just so big that you could barely even keep up your hips at first. sukuna’s hands—all of his hands roam over your body, clinging onto your hips and even a few feel near your chest. he gives your breasts a soft squeeze, a few thumbs toying with your perky nipples that poke out through the wooly-made blouse you were.

“f- fuuuck,” he swears between hot kisses, clawing a hand at your back.

as you rode him, his heartbeat starts to accelerate. you were a menace, rutting clashing hips gave him whiplash as the minutes pass. you were coating him in a mess of your own. sappy strings of your juices form into a saturated web with his own colorless mess that resides near his thickset base. you’re being so stretched. you cup his face once more whilst tongues fight and fight for dominance and tango together.

above him—you’re just a puddled mess.

sukuna couldn’t keep his hands off you no matter how hard he tried.

strained inhales escape out of him while he breaks away from kisses every few seconds. you were addicting - addictive.

his velvet red lips were all swollen and pursed up from your kisses and he’s desperately yearning for more of your syrupy forbidden taste. you were sweet, but your pulsating cunt was even sweeter.

with a quick piston of his hips, you felt your body jolt up. “hngh,” you gasp, wrapping your arms around his broad neck once more. from the neck down, his entire body was lathered with perspiration. sukuna was already feral, his hair was a mess and his fangs stuck out from his lips as he lies back. he hits every part of you so good, every single spot.

you’re struck in awe at how well his cock carves its way through your insides so perfectly, so thoroughly. it knows exactly where to go, never once missing the crevices of your pussy. despite having little to no experience—you could say he was definitely a quick learner. sukuna’s cock french kisses against your g-spot a plethora of times, creating a sloppy trail of them to send every part of your body butterflies. “ ‘m getting close, ‘kuna.”

“tsk. it’s still ‘my lord’ to you,” he corrects.

yet even though he’s trying to keep his cold façade - he’s failing miserably. sukuna’s bottom lip quivers as he cups your chin, hearing the filthy weeping squelches of your cunt grow louder. with each thrust, it gets more blaring to his ears and he groans at the tenderness he’s constantly feeling. “but ‘m gettin’ close too. so f- fuckin’ close.”

you hear how his voice shakes — his irises, they’re dilating from how you’re intently staring back.

but oh, he’s whipped.

a pair of hands grip onto your waist tightly, encouraging you to create more haste with your movements. your body swerves in swift arcs, feeling the sudden lock occur in your knees that’s buried into his thighs. he’s hitting you deep and he’s hitting you raw. you blabber out a few whimpers before slumping into his chest.

“fuck, fuck,” you sob out, reaching a hand down to spread two fingers against your pearled clit. you were throbbing, a sheath of your arousal then starts to cover his entire length the more you bounce. your folds were weeping as you grinded further against him. but as you’re chasing your incoming high, you lean in toward his pecs, taking one of his sensitive nipples into your mouth again.

and sukuna does the one thing you never thought he’d ever do.

he whimpers.

it sounds so pretty - so harmonic.

it’s like it happens on random—out of nowhere, he starts to lactate again. the familiar taste from earlier cascades down on your tongue and you suck a bit harder, moaning against his sensitive skin.

the jittery vibrations of your noises makes him groan, awkwardly ruffling your hair. “hah, g- good girl. milk me, that’s it. jus’ like that, keep going.”

and your hips slow down a bit so you can get a good angle. as you come to a brief stop, your body acclimates against him, but even still—you had a lot to get used to, especially with how well he stretched you out.

it’s pouring out a lot now, a bit of it starts to dribble down your chin and he just watches.

his cock twitches at the sight and you feel it from the inside. both bodies move rhythmically against each other and it feels like momentarily bliss.

your hand still has itself occupied between your thighs, playing with yourself to quicken your release.

it was right there, right at the tip of your tongue. sukuna moves a few strands of hair out of your face as you sucked against each pec. as he silently watches, if you squint you could see heart eyes forming in his pupils.

his nipples had so many nerves - so many nerves that he felt.

“god,” he curses, his thigh starting to bounce. you both were close, so so close.

sukuna feels his body temperature grow hotter the more your tongue whisks against each tender nub. it spills down the crevices of your lips. again, he’s just thinking how such a thing was even possible. you were so unapologetically messy too, he used a thumb to swipe the milky dripping substance away from the fissures of your plump lips.

you moaned, the stimulation of your cunt adequately sucking him dry continuously making you more and more aroused.

leisurely, an unpredictable wave of electricity prepares itself as you’re rutting into him on constant repeat. your unsteady rhythm had his jaw locked and he could barely utter out any final words at the moment because your pussy had him so utterly drunk.

the epitome of pussy drunk,

you finish first and it’s like you were shooting actual blanks.

your mind goes dimwitted as you’re gushing all over his cock, covering him in your obscene filth. “fuck, fuck,” you whimper out in a whine of individual babbles and doing so, your hips pick up again its recent speed. just for a moment. he groans at the skin against skin contact, throwing his head back and his adam’s apple bobs. it’s such a sight, you throbbed right between your legs.

sukuna crudely spanks your ass, his palm leaving a temporary sting before he squeezes it, admiring the precious recoil.

it takes you a second to realize you’re squirting. you were already dumb, but once you’re finally succumbing to pleasure, your mouth opens. “oh my goddd.” you elongate your moans, dragging out your sweet melodic words. your walls were preparing to wring him dry. from the inside—they cling onto him tight like velcro, you were attached and there was no pulling you off.

as you moan out your final vehement whines, you go back to sucking on his tender nipples and now . . . it was his turn.

“y’ jus’ squirt all over me ‘n ya still haven’t had enough,” he whews, his cock repeatedly and rigorously punctuating each single thrust. there’s a ringing in his ears, it’s loud and deafening. sukuna’s eyes grow droopy at the mere feeling and repetitive sounds of skin slap slap slapping every few seconds.

“ ‘m gonna cum—” and he pauses, gingerly pulling your head up so you can face him directly. your hips start to slow down again but it’s still got somewhat of a fair pace. with his bottom lip poking out, he’s still pouting visibly. “oi, brat. i- i can finish inside, huh? wanna fill you up. ‘m burnin’ up, fuck.”

you give him a nod, savoring his frosted taste that’s still remaining to drizzle onto your tongue.“mhm,” and as you’re still very much sensitive yourself, you slowly jerk back and forth despite how your pace wasn’t as fast as it was before.

“fuck, ‘m gonna give you so much,” he grunts, dewy lips mashing together as he spoke. he was so full and yet he had so much to give. sukuna feels himself grow inside you from each pump, he’s so thick that you’re just wholly tongue-tied.

the muscles in his abs tense and tighten before he grabs the fat of your ass with a single bare hand. “shit shit, take it all. take it all please.”

and at his feeble pulse, the moment finally comes where he shoots inside.

sukuna collapses back into his throne, bringing an arm hand toward himself to cover a broad hand over his face.

he grunts lowly into his palm and its sexy, his posture was so lazy and yet he was still so pent up. your limbs were just as limp as his, weak and defeated. a decent load of cum oozes into you raw and you gasp whilst his perky nipple was still in your mouth.

coincidentally enough, as he’s cumming—he ends up lactating at the same time too. more of his creamy substance pours onto your tongue while he’s pumping you full of satiny fresh ropes of sultry hot cum. it’s carnal.

you moan, losing yourself in such pungent nirvana as his taste suddenly turns sweeter.

sukuna was milked out entirely. he’s squeezing against your ass even tighter as he’s dumping such massive loads into your needy cunt. it was goopy—strings and strings of his cum tangle with your slick juices and you only imagined what it looked like up close. your hips moderately slow all the way until you’re just barely grinding against him now.

panting, you find yourself tracing the outline of his ancient tattoo markings with the tip of your finger.

your touch, by this point he was gonna cum again.

it’s a lot. actually, saying it was a lot was a bit of an understatement.

you don’t register how much he’s flooded into your pussy until you finally pry your mouth away from his chest, looking down at the impure sight.

so much, your entrance was filled to the very brim with such a nice amount, sweltering from the outside of your folds.

“you’re really sensitive,” you breathe, numbing thighs of your own gluing together against him. you didn’t want to move because it would spill out but it did anyway. a few wads of creamy ropes dribble down your swollen slit and you watch, scrapping a bit of it up with your thumb. “mmm,” you coo out, shoving and smearing the sticky strands of filth back inside. you felt so full, you don’t think you’ve ever felt more stuffed. the base of his cock was gummed with your slick along with a concoction of his own miry mess.

as you’re still trying to recollect breaths, you plant a kiss near the corner of his lips, watching it twitch at your touch. “my lord, you did so good. i didn’t think you’d cum from just getting milked.”

“s- sukuna,” he whines out his name as a form of correction. doing so, you lean into his touch once he cups your chin for the nth time.

his hold on you was always gentle—he’s got the most neediest look in his eyes, longing for you to continue to ‘aid’ him of his problem.

you worn him out— not only that but you milked him for all he was worth and yet he was still cumming.

“jus’ call me sukuna,” and your heart flutters at the sudden privilege. you’re still straddling him, keeping his cock warm before he leans in for a kiss.

you thought it was a kiss but instead, he inches his face toward your chin before lolling out his long forked tongue, licking the remaining excess milk that was running down your chin from earlier. “call me sukuna, mistress . . please.”

[mywritersmind]

CURB FLIRTING - LN4

summary : In which Lando finds a girl crying on the side of the road and decides to help her a bit.

listen up : this is the cutest thing i’ve ever written. no pt.2‼️

word count : 1438

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Tears stream down my face, I try to control my breathing but I'm still in shock. Even though I'm sobbing, I want to laugh.

I’m sitting on a curb outside of a club, it’s gross and there’s cigarette butts by my feet. I can only smell alcohol and the scent of my vanilla perfume.

I want to rip it off my body. I try to take a deep breath but my chest hurts and I start coughing. People around me ask if I'm okay but when I nod they leave.

Until a man’s shoes appear in front of me, “Are you alright?” I look up, breathing heavily still before nodding and looking back down at his shoes. I like them.

He sits next to me, “You sure?” He has an accent. British, I think.

“No.” I laugh as he cracks a smile.

“I’m Lando.” He holds out his hand for me to shake, so I do. His ring is cold against my burning skin. When I meet his eyes again, I realize they’re green and unfairly stunning.

In fact, his whole face is stunning. He’s got curly hair, dark and mullet-ish, his clothes are light and his jewelry is nice.

“I’m Y/n.” I sniffle, wiping a tear from my face, “I like your shoes.”

He smiles again, “Thank you. I like your dress.” I glance down to my bare legs, hot and uncomfortable with the icy air. He seems to notice my body language and shrugs off his jacket, laying it over my legs.

I frown, crying more, “Hey- I didn’t mean to make it worse.” He looks genuinely worried.

“You didn’t. I’m just- Thank you.” He nods, “I’m kinda embarrassed.”

“No need. Plenty of strangers have seen me cry.” He shrugs, eyeing my hair and earrings, “You don’t need to worry though, you’re a pretty crier.”

I let out a laugh, something I haven’t done for a few hours, “I doubt you aren’t.” His presence is oddly comforting yet also awkward because I was bawling in front of him.

His smile is kind and soft while his body looks sharp and hard. “You flatter me, Y/n.” I like the way he says my name. But that could just be because of my tears.

“What’s your deal, Mr. Lando no last name?” My eyes are still wet but my tears are no longer falling, “Are those your friends?”

We both look over to the group on the other side of the road, three men staring. Lando eyes them but quickly looks back at me, “Uh, yeah.”

“Do they think a twenty four year old woman is going to hurt you?” I look at them again, “Because they sure are protective.”

He laughs, “Protective is a good word for it. Where are your friends?” This makes me frown and he sees it instantly, “Are you visiting Monaco?”

I nod, “Yeah. Are you?”

He shakes his head, “I live here.” My eyes instinctively widen at this. He looks young. I mean, he could be studying here I guess but still.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty five.” This makes my brows pull together, he laughs at this.

“Are you… rich?” I whisper it as if it’s illegal.

He leans it a bit close, “Sort of.”

I hum, “How…?”

“I’ll tell you if you come and sit in my car with me.” I raise a brow at this, crossing my arms, “I promise it’s just because I'm worried you’re gonna catch a cold.” I look at him skeptically too, “You can hold my keys if it makes you feel better.”

I stand, holding his jacket close to me as he drops his keys into my hand. I stare down at them, blink. “A McLaren?” I roll my eyes.

“An eye roll is not the usual reaction I get for that!” He starts walking and I follow him.

“Oh, so you bring all the girls you find crying in the street into your car?” He eyes me, a slight smirk on his face.

“Only the pretty ones.”

I roll my eyes, “You’re going to let a stranger take the keys to your McLaren?” He just shrugs.

“I know your name. You know mine.”

He lets me sit in the driver's seat, he turns the car on and Mamma Mia starts blasting. “Shit.” He mumbles, turning it down quickly as I giggle.

“A musical fan…?” His face is serious and definitely embarrassed. I can’t help but laugh more, “Okay, Okay. How are you, Mr. very mysterious Lando no last name, rich?”

He stretches his arms up, grinning but staying silent. Oh god. He’s fit as hell.

“Oh no.” I feel doom approaching me.

“What?” he asks.

“Don’t tell me you’re a footballer.”

He looks horrified, “An american footballer?” I did forget about that one little difference between us. “Why would I be an American footballer?”

“Well you’re-” He raises a brow as I groan, “You clearly work out.” He laughs at me. “Lando! I’m serious, you’re an athlete aren’t you? Oh god I don’t want to know. Do you play soccer? You’ve got the height for it.”

His jaw is dropped at this point, “Calling me hot then calling me short is insane!”

“I did not say, ‘hot’!” I scoff, turning towards him, “Tell me what you really do then. Are you in the Mafia?”

He sighs, leaning his head against the glass of his car. I hadn't realized before, but I'm much more comfortable here. Well, I suppose a McLaren has got to be more comfortable than a street corner.

It’s quieter and definitely warmer. Plus, I do feel safe with Lando which is a bit odd because I just met the guy.

“I’m a formula 1 driver.”

Oh?

“Oh.” I nod. I don’t know anything about motorsport so I'm a bit lost, but I guess I got my answer, “So you drive cars?”

He looks happy at my answer, his smile making my cheeks heat, “Yeah… Yeah I drive cars.”

Lando Norris.

An interesting name for an interesting man. We stay in his car for another… hour? I don’t know. I lose track of time when Lando starts telling me about everywhere he’s traveled.

He lets me rant or stay silent, something I've been waiting for all night. Or maybe all my life.

He leaves me for five minutes alone, in which I peek around his car, finding absolutely nothing but a golf ball and a bag of chips. He comes back with a smile on his face and an ask.

I move to the passenger seat, saying hi to his friends. He said that he wanted me to feel safe and after the conversation with his friends, I really do. I don’t think I've ever laughed harder at a man’s friend group.

He plays ‘Thank you for the music’ on low while I look out the window, my hair blowing in the wind.

“Hey uh-” he clears his throat, “Could I get your number? Just to check in tomorrow.” I bite my lip as he hands me his phone, smiling to myself as I type in my number.

“Dont abuse it.” I joke as he taps his finger against the wheel.

He's grinning again, “Can’t promise anything.”

I sigh, watching the city pass by me, some of the boats on the water quiet and some bright and loud. I like it here. Even if me crying had to get me in such a good mood.

“Thanks for driving me.”

“Of course, I hope to do it again, one day.”

“You know we're probably not going to see eachother again, right?” I see the corner of his mouth quirk downwards, “I’m going home tomorrow.”

“And I have access to private planes.” He shrugs as I scoff.

“Lando. I just met you. What if I was some crazy stalker?” Does this man not know stranger danger?

He eyes me, “Well, are you?”

“No…”

“So,” he glances at me, a curl falling into his face, “I'll see you soon.”

Sadly, my hotel isn’t far and when he pulls up to the front, I get an odd sensation of sadness washing over me. “Want me to walk you up?”

I shake my head, “You’ve done enough for me.” I lean over the middle console and press a soft kiss to his cheek, “Have a good night, Lando.”

“You too, Y/n.” I grab my bag, and slip out the expensive car, looking back one last time to see Lando watching me. His eyes are meaningful and something I have a feeling I won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

[cntloup]

18+ MDNI Price hiring Ghost to teach his bratty daughter, you a lesson

Part 2

He trusts him with his life. He knows he's a good man and would never really hurt you.

And he's a man. Not one of those boys that you sneak out with. He's a seasoned soldier. He's seen some shit. He's been through hell and back. He won't stand your bratty behavior one bit.

So basically Ghost is there to babysit a grown woman. And Price has given him the green light to do anything he saw fit with you.

Your mouth hangs open and your eyes widen the moment you set eyes on him. DAMN he's huge. And the mask is terrifying. And frankly a bit (a lot) arousing.

He threatens to get you on his lap the moment you act up and start whining which makes you act up even more.

"I need to go shopping. Where's my dad's credit card? I know I had it." "No you don't. And it's over, princess. No more access to his bank account."

You gasp dramatically and within seconds you're sobbing and squealing out incoherent words.

"Shh, princess. C'mere." he coos as he brings you to sit on his lap. He places your head on his chest, brushing his fingers through your hair as you bawl your eyes out until you pass out.

But him being soft with you does not last long as you get more comfortable around him and throw tantrums more often. And he's had it with the goddamn banshee screams.

That's when you end up on his lap almost every night. One hand holding your hip so you can't squirm away and one big strong palm hitting against your ass so hard, the sound reverberates through the room mixing with your cries and screams.

If you ever start whining about a boy, he just shushes you with a warning and goes on with his day, but if you ever try to sneak out, that's when you end up on all fours as he slaps your pussy repeatedly until you're a whining mess, both because of the pain, also the heat and slick between your legs.

And if you've been extra bratty that day, that's when he gets his cock out, slowly sliding through your folds, teasing you. Then he suddenly slams his fat cock into your soaking wet pussy as you let out sobs of pain and pleasure, muffled by the pillows.

And he starts moving without letting you adjust, hips slamming against your ass with full force, your needy little pussy stretched out so wide, the aching pleasure of his thick veiny cock dragging along your sensitive walls, so sweet and delicious.

And he cums inside. His thick warm cum filling up your womb. Not afraid to get you pregnant. Maybe you'll be less bratty then.

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 

[madmaxified]

how do you think jealous glinda would act

JEALOUS GALINDA HEADCANNONS

warnings : none!

author’s note : this got me out of my writers block ( FREAKING FINALLY ) so thank you anon!

⭑ galinda loves being the centre of attention, loves it, especially when she gets to be the centre of your attention. she’s not used to not getting what she wants, not used to not being the sun, the moon, the planets, and stars in everyone’s galaxy, so the idea of her having to share your attention with anyone else is such a foreign concept to her

⭑ galinda, who always wants to hang out with you! she wants to study together ( though it’s mostly you working and her staring at you with big goo goo eyes because you look so pretty when you’re concentrating! ) or going on super elaborate dates she’s planned out, or just hanging out in her dorm and kissing until she can’t stop giggling

⭑ so when you start to hang out with someone else just a tad bit more than you do her, like maybe you eat lunch with some your classmates instead of going off with her, or if you say you can’t come over that night because you’re hanging out with someone else, she freaks out!

⭑ why don’t you wanna hang out with her anymore? did she do something wrong? was she a bad girlfriend? did she hurt your feelings? elphaba finds her in bed curled up in ball with her knees tucked up to her chest, overthinking every little thing the two of you have ever done, trying to figure out why you might be mad at her

⭑ spoiler alert! you’re not mad! she’s just a chronic overthinker who can’t go a day without getting to hold your hand and kiss you

⭑ the moment you come over next she’s bawling in your arms and begging for you to forgive her because she doesn’t understand why you’re mad and she’s sorry if she hurt your feelings! she’s so not used to feeling so strongly about someone and she doesn’t want to mess a single thing up

⭑ in an instant you’re cuddling her and kissing her face and insisting she didn’t do anything wrong, and that she’s been nothing but the most amazing girlfriend imaginable! you just wanted to spend some time with your other friends, that’s all! you don’t love her any less

⭑ she’s all pouty and red in the face and somehow as elegant and pretty as ever, maybe even more, when she looks up at you

“galinda, what are you talking about? you are nothing short of the most amazing girlfriend on the planet! just because we’re not spending every second of every day together doesn’t mean i love you any less”

“you p - p - promise?”

⭑ galinda tries not to be super clingy after that, tries to teach herself that just because you’re hanging out with your friends or you’re not sleeping over every night, that it doesn’t mean you don’t care about her or what to break up, tries to teach herself that she doesn’t need to be always be the centre of attention. she’s still learning! it’s her first time being a relationship that she really does care about

⭑ of course she can only handle so much, it’s hard not to be clingy and possessive when she sees someone blatantly flirting with you! you’re her girlfriend after all!

⭑ the moment someone touches your arm sweetly or compliments your hair or clothes in a definitively not platonic way, she’s practically appearing at your side, arms wrapped around your waist with her face nuzzled into your shoulder

⭑ she’s constantly kissing your cheek, snuggling up against you, squeezing your hand, and repeating the word ‘girlfriend’ over and over until whoever decided they had the right to even breathe in the direction of you awkwardly wanders off

“oh! i don’t believe we’ve met, i’m galinda upland, her GIRLFRIEND!” “i was just in the bathroom, hope i didn’t keep my GIRLFRIEND waiting for too long!” “thanks for taking such good care of my GIRLFRIEND, but i can take it from here, as i am her GIRLFRIEND, and she is my GIRLFRIEND”

⭑ she doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, flipping her hair in the direction of ( and maybe even into the face of ) anyone who tries to hit on you. you’re her girlfriend! not theirs!

⭑ she can’t help but feel insecure though, her face is a nervous mix between a scowl and a pout for most of the night, constantly squeezing your hand as if to remind herself that you’re very much still there, that you haven’t left her for someone else

⭑ it’s not until she drags you back to her dorm does she break down, blubbering about how she’s worried about ‘not being good enough’ and how ‘everyone who hit on you was so much sexier and cooler than her’ and how ‘she’s not even that good of a girlfriend because she doesn’t know what she’s doing! but she doesn’t want to screw anything up!’

⭑ you’re barely able to calm her down, let alone pull her into your arms and lead her over towards her bed

“ssh, sh, hey, hey, galinda look at me. nobody at that stupid party was as cool or sexy or amazing as you are. you are the brightest, most wonderful person i’ve ever met, and i’d be an idiot to even consider dumping you for some dumb guy or girl who tries to hit on me. you don’t have to be perfect, nobodies perfect baby, but you are damn well pretty close. i love galinda upland, nothings gonna change that”

⭑ somehow that made her cry more! not out of sadness but just because she’s so overwhelmed with joy and love because you love her and you think she’s perfect and pretty and sexy and amazing, and it made her heart flutter in her chest so hard she’s worried it’ll explode

⭑ she flops right against you, burying her face into your shoulder and mumbling ‘i love you’ over and over and over until she finally stops crying, and by then you’re both exhausted

⭑ you end up spending the night at hers, galinda tucked against your chest your face buried in her hair, arms cradling her protectively

⭑ she ends up staying awake long after you’ve fallen asleep. titling her head up just so, watching and listening to you breathe because you’re the most gorgeous creature on earth and she’s the one who gets to lay against you like this, and she’s not sure something else has ever made her happier

[mellowsadistic]

“That’s it, baby, let it all out,” I cooed. “Have a big cry. Daddy's here, little girl." I stroked my wife's hair gently while she bawled her eyes out like a two-year-old, sat on the floor of our bedroom wearing nothing but her sopping wet diaper.

She gasped in big lungfuls of air, her bare chest heaving with every shaky breath. “You… did something… to me!” she said between hiccups, batting my hand away and glaring at me accusingly. It seemed that I'd finally been found out.

"What did I do to you, sweetheart?" I asked softly.

"You... turned me... into... a cry... baby!" she sobbed, almost hyperventilating now, her words barely intelligible. "You... want me... like this!"

“That's right, darling," I said, and I saw her tear-filled eyes widen in surprise at my ready confession. "I want to be your Daddy. I want to take care of you. But you've always been so strong and independent. I knew I had to do something to change that, so I used some special hypnosis files, hidden in that night-time background music you like to listen to, to erode your emotional control. It's the same technique I used to take away your potty training.”

She looked at me in horror, but I just chuckled and reached out to stroke her tear-stained cheek lovingly with the back of my fingers. “It’s so sweet that you can’t control when you go pee-pee or poo-poo anymore." I patted the front of her soggy diaper. “And you look so pretty in your princess nappy!”

“You did this to me?” my wife whispered, so shocked that her wracking sobs had come to a halt. Her hand drifted down to the huge disposable diaper bulging between her thighs. "You made me need these?"

"Yes, baby," I said. "I thought making you incontinent would be enough, but even then you were still trying to be self-sufficient; insisting on changing your own nappies, refusing to let me comfort you after an accident. So now you're going to be emotionally incontinent as well, sweetie. No more bottling things up. No more self-control. When you get even the slightest bit upset about something, you'll be in tears."

“But whyyy?!” she wailed, her sobbing returning in full force. "Why did you... do this... to me?!"

“It’s not good for girls to hold in their feelings,” I said, running my fingers through her hair again. She seemed too appalled by what I was saying to even notice. “It’s so much cuter, so much more feminine, when you lose control and have a little meltdown instead.”

“But I don’t… want to be… like this!” she cried.

“I know, darling,” I said soothingly, “but this is how I want you. Daddy knows best. Being a tearful toddler suits you much better than being an adult woman. In any case, there's no undoing the effects of the hypnosis now, little one. I made sure it was completely permanent."

“No!” she wailed, bouncing on her wet bottom and beating her fists impotently against the floor. “It's not fair! I wanna be a grown-up! I wanna use the toilet! I don't wanna be a stupid crybaby! I don't wanna! I don't wanna!" Her words trailed off into incoherent blubbering as she devolved into a massive temper tantrum.

I couldn't help but smile. She looked so adorable! "Hush now, princess," I cooed, shoving a large pink pacifier between my wife's lips. Her mewling was cut off abruptly, and she started sucking on it at once - another product of the hypnosis files. She was left sniffling and whimpering quietly, her dummy bobbing rhythmically in her mouth. "Now I know you're very upset because Daddy turned you into a big baby," I said, pushing her back gently onto the floor, "but I'm sure a nice dry diaper will have you feeling better in no time. Legs up, baby! It's time for you to let Daddy take care of everything."

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 ||Stanley Pines||

A/n: Stan would be an amazing father, and him being a girl dad! Just 👏

Request: found here

Plot:

So, like Stanley Pines is a girldad, we know that (he and Mabel are so🥺) and have twin girls. The dude starts to bawl his eyes out when he finds out when you tell him you are pregnant.

Even more when he finds out you are having girls

Bonus if they have inherited the sixth finger from Uncle Ford(as soon as he has his little nieces on his arms, he won't let his brothers take the girls from his arms)

"Ford, give me back my daughters!"

"I need to check if they are alright!"

Stan knew he must have hit the jackpot when he met you, after years of failed relationships the man had honestly given up of even dating.

And then his brother pulled your car off the road. It could have been a fling, sure he liked you. You were a beautiful woman, you were kind to Mabel and Dipper. To be honest, he couldn't help but feel his heart race a bit fast when he saw your interactions with the 13 year olds.

Sure it was painful knowing you were leaving, you did spend weeks with him.

But you didn't...when it came time for you to leave, for you to just pack your things and go instead you stated and he couldn't have been more happier because while he may not believed it back then, he had found his soulmate.

Maybe he actually owed Edna an apology for her saying it would happen one day.

Though this....this was even better. If he was being honest, this was a better feeling than when Ford stepped through that portal.

"You're what?" His voice croaked, he swallowed thickly.

"Pregnant." You gave him a weak smile, you didn't know how to tell him, part of you scared not knowing how he would even react to this sort of news.

Stan's eyes went wide, his heart nearly coming to a stop. 'Pregnant'

He stared down at you for a long while, trying to get his thoughts in order. After a few moments, Stan pulled you even closer against his chest, his arms wrapping around you. His eyes closing for a moment as he buried his nose into your neck.

"How...how long have you known for?" His voice was soft, a mixture of panic and excitement in his tone.

Blinking a few times, shocked at his reaction you looked up at him the best you could. "A...a few days...I wanted to make sure..wait...you...you're not upset?"

Stan could only chuckle. 'Upset? He was ecstatic!'

"Why in the world would I be upset? You're kidding, right? Dollface, you're gonna have my baby. I'm the luckiest man alive."

He leaned down and pressed several soft kisses against your head. Then gave you a smile as he let his finger glided across his cheek though his eyes then went wide as he stepped back looking you over making sure you were okay.

"I didn't hurt ya did I?"

Letting out a snort, you gave him a grin placing your hand on his cheeks. "No you didn't hurt me Stan, I'm fine...I'm wonderful actually." You muttered resting your head against his chest as the man slowly wrapped around your body.

"I'm feelin wonderful too sweetheart....I'm the happiest man alive right now." Blinking back some tears, he smiled as he placed a kiss to the top of your head.

Months passed and Stan did his best to help you out with all your needs. Ford helping his brother and you move into a house near by knowing it would be safer for you and the child.

But it was one ultrasound that had the man bursting into tears. His eyes glued to the screen as the Obstetrician applied the jell to your belly. He felt your hand holding his but it still did not feel real, especially when the woman informed him that he was not only having twins, but twin girls.

"I'm not cryin! You can't prove nothin!"

Grinning you tucked your phone away as you tugged the dress down. "The video I have saved on my phone say's other wise." Shaking your head you took a deep breath in placing a hand on your belly, the sonogram photos securely in Stan's wallet. "Now let's go home...I am tired." It would explain the excessive kicking you've felt.

Sniffling, Stan cleared out his throat then brushed his tears away as he placed his hand on your belly doing his best to sooth you. "You two hear that...your mother is tired so let her rest."

Smiling, you let your fingers run through Stan's hair, the man leaning into your touch. "They love your voice Stan."

Still holding your hips, he gave you a watery smile as small tears ran down his cheeks. "Thank you."

It was a hard birth, but Stan never left your side. The man letting you hold his hand, squeeze it whenever you were in pain. Him often telling you jokes to make you laugh, or stories of him and Ford, the things the saw, things about his childhood then soon his little girls were in his arms. "Ha can you believe it...six fingers...just like your Uncle Ford."

Relaxing into the hospital bed, a weak chuckle escaped your lips as you let your gaze focused on Stan. It was an adorable sight, to see someone who held his emotions in to break down from just holding two infants. "They're gonna be daddy's little girls aren't they?"

You can see he held so much love for them, that he would do anything for them.

Shaking his head for a moment, Stan blinked away his tears as he slipped his glasses off due to them fogging up. "Damn right they will be. Nothin will be out of their reach..." he wouldn't hold them back, he wouldn't scream or yell at him, he wouldn't kick them out for a little mistake.

He wouldn't be like his father...he will be better.

"....hehe...I can't wait to show em off to everyone. Mabel said she made em little hats...gonna be adorable."

He muttered looking down at the twins asleep in his arms until his gaze landed on you. "Get some sleep beautiful...I got em."

Stan knew everyone wanted to see the twins and while he let the people he trusted take a look at them he refused to let anyone hold them that was not him or you. Oh no they will have to wait until his precious beans were older.

"Just let me hold them Stanley...it's been a month." Ford glanced at his brother rolling his eyes. "You're being a baby hog."

Scowling, Stan glanced at you. Giving him a smile you nodded your head. "Just...be careful." He muttered reluctantly.

Once in his arms, Ford smiled down at his nieces as he then spotted their six tiny fingers. "How adorable....I will protect you both with my life...you will not be bullied like me."

Shifting his weight from one foot to another, Stan then cleared out his throat. "Alright give'em back Ford."

"I think not! I would like to spend time with my nieces Stanley." Turning his back, the man powered walk away.

"Stanford! Give me back my daughters!"

"I need to check if they are alright!"

"What! Ford! Get your ass back here!"

Sighing, a smile tugged at your lips as you watched Stan chase after your brother. Shaking your head you sat down in the plush chair closing your eyes. It was good to be home.

[demothers-empty-blog]

The Alters in My World

CW: Dissociative Identity Disorder. Nikto is hesitant about losing front. Hurt/Comfort/Hurt, tagged as both angst & fluff.

The voices in his head confuse him — overlapping and overly loud, he leans towards the quiet.

Only then does he find those scarce bits of peace. But the voices are relentless, restless; difficult. They only allow him so much reprieve.

They yell at him, berate him, they don’t leave gaps in his memory without his knowing, Nikto remembers everything. He knows and understands why his teammates look at him sideways after their last mission.

After what they did.

The enemy ripped open his mask and his bare face felt the sun for the first time in ages.

But that was against Nikto’s will.

He’d immediately torn a chunk of raw flesh from the jugular of his opponent, the memory distant and hazy but present nonetheless. The taste, Nikto recalls it clearly: vile, coppery and warm.

The team knew not to fuck with the fabric that covered the tortured man’s face from that day on.

Maybe if he refrains from blinking, his eyes will tear up and Nikto will show some semblance of remorse.

But that day never came.

Emotionless, they called him. So what if he can’t show emotion? It doesn’t mean he didn’t feel, somewhere deep in that shriveled heart that begged for the light, Nikto felt, he just didn’t know what.

All he knew was that it ached, some nights beyond agony, pulling him into this spiralling state until he was numb, until the pain grew so much and Nikto ended up feeling nothing.

Some called him a freak, other trained professionals called it dissociating, the body’s natural way of protecting itself from further harm.

Like a child with nowhere to go, he curls onto himself on most nights, between choked sobs and the holes in the wall, Nikto lashes out.

It was as if something, or someone was taunting him, no matter how many achievements, he still wasn’t fulfilled enough to quiet the growing cries in his head.

A pat on the back, a simple kind word and Nikto would cradle it close to his chest until the day the earth decides to claim his rotting corpse.

Yearning.

That was the feeling.

The pull on his heartstrings, the nag in his ribcage, why couldn’t he be held like the others?

What was so wrong, what did he do that was so bad that even the people whom he deemed as friends ignored him in his time of need?

Which, this would only reinforce the idea that he truly was a nobody, no one, he couldn’t fault anyone for not visiting.

Even after spending weeks in the hospital.

Even after saving countless lives, apparently they were only fixated on the ones he took.

He doesn’t deserve to live. Not like this.

Nikto wakes up one morning to a vase of flowers sitting on his nightstand. Chrysanthemums, of all colours and shades. They added a nice contrast to the blinding white of the hospital.

There you sat, with puffy eyes and remaining tears clinging to your lash line, all tuckered out from bawling your eyes out.

The voices grew quiet and Nikto’s heart settled, as if somehow they’d come to a silent understanding. A sense of satisfaction washed over him and Andre allows his eyes to drift shut.

Andre allows himself to be, to feel, for the first time since his capture. He was hesitant, but with enough time and enough love, he became a somebody. Your somebody.

On the month of his birthday, he was called in. You pleaded him not to take the job but it’s what he does best.

I will be back, Moye Vse. Do not worry so much.

Nikto now, cradles your tear soaked cheeks in his calloused palms and hushes your cries with a kiss.

He didn’t want you coming with him. Even after arguing with the board to let you tag along, be his backup for Christ’s sake, they were adamant this was a one man mission.

The day of his birthday arrives, the house has never felt emptier.

The candles on the cake illuminate the worry lines in your skin, you sob into your hands.

Missing him felt more like mourning.

He was made. A vehicle stops in the middle of the dirt road, spotting him.

The knife slices through him like his body was made of cake, he wishes it was raspberry couli soaking his attire.

He shouldn’t be thinking about food right now, a mirthless laugh chokes him.

Cake. He thinks.

Our angel is going to hate us for not coming back to taste that damn birthday cake.

Usually, sleep was never so quick to claim him, but tonight, under the open stars, things were… different.

The jeep finally pulls away, the crackling sound of tires over pebbles grow distant. He is alone once more, with nothing else but a biting wind and the moon to keep him company.

He doesn’t deserve to die.

Not when he just found you.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Just A Little Bit of Your Heart

ship: Azriel x Reader type: angst word count: 2,4k  warnings: curse words, mentions of a one night stand, unexpected pregnancy summary: It was just a one night stand, or that is what you thought... fic masterlist

"The baby will have wings!" 

Your hands tremble. And they tremble so much the plate you are holding slips out them, and then shatters when it hits the floor. Splinters fly everywhere, but your best friend is quick to shove you away.

She is faster than you, gently shoving you away before you can lean down to collect the shards. "Not in your current state! Let me do this."

You huff. "I am pregnant, not fragile or ill," you say, still dried tears on your cheeks, and more burning behind your eyes. 

"Yes, with a winged baby, because this fool did not pay attention." There is so much fury inside of your best friend, you have never seen this side of her before, her voice drips with venom. 

"For making a baby it always needs two people. I am not innocent in this." You crouch down and help your best friend collect the shards of broken glass and—

"Fuck!" You lift your index finger to your mouth, licking the droplet of blood away. 

"I told you to let me do this, you are hurting yourself and—" "And what? They baby will still have wings and I will still be pregnant. I just cut my finger, nothing dramatic."

You swallow thickly, slumping onto the ground. You immediately regret your tone and snapping at your best friend. She only wants to help and be there for you…

But it is so much to deal with and then the hormones just intensify everything you are feeling.

The fear, the apprehension about the baby having with wings and the prospect of having to raise the child by yourself, should you survive the birth, finally reach the surface. You tried hide these emotion for so long, but now you fail — they all bubble up, overwhelming you.

You lean against the kitchen counter behind you, pulling your knees up and fold your hands over your face.

Then the damn breaks, tears running out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you sob into your hands. 

"I am so scared," you bawl. 

Your best friend has already scooted over, careful of the broken pieces of porcelain, and wraps her arm around your shoulders. She pulls you to her chest, letting you cry into her shirt. "I know that the babe has wings, the healer confirmed it. And I am just working in this little shop, I don't earn enough to take care of the child alone."

Your tears wet her shirt, and your best friend holds you tightly, her hand clasping your upper arm. She is becoming your anchor, the only thing you can hold onto in this moment.

"It was so foolish. He said he took the tonic. I also drank the tea the same morning, and neither of those things worked. Conceiving for fae is so difficult, why…"

Your voice breaks and you can't finish your sentence, your throat is dry, burns and the back of your mouth aches. 

"It wasn't foolish. You were both careful, and it just happened." Your best friend's voice is softer now, although inside of her a burning fire of fury about the shadowsinger putting a baby that could harm you inside of you. It could cost you your life and she would never forgive him for that.

You exhale a long breath when you lift your head a little, still leaning onto your friend. You rest your head against her shoulder, staring at the window opposite you. 

A veil of grey is being drawn over the sky, dark clouds passing by — rain is about to start. You keep staring at the window, sitting in silence as the first raindrops start to fall, landing gently on the window pane. You watch as the rain intensifies, and the sky darkens further until heavy rain pours down and wind whips agains the windows and the walls of the apartment building you are living in. 

The atmosphere outside mirrors the whirlwind inside of you, the storm brewing there, the cold and gloomx atmosphere.

There are so many emotions. And these emotions, mostly fear and nervousness, mingle with the hormones that actually make you so very happy that your are growing a little babe inside of you, but at the dame time so sad that the child will have to grow up without a father.

The whole previous evening you spent staring at your round belly in the mirror, sobbing silently to yourself.

With the big wool sweaters you always wear the belly is barely visible, but when naked, one can obviously see the growing bump. 

You best friend draws in a deep inhale and leans her head against the top of yours. 

"You need to talk to him," she says in a soft voice. "And before you protest, I say so because first of all, he has a right to know. And secondly, and most importantly, he might be able to help you."

You sniff loudly. "How should he help me?"

"The High Lord, who he is close with, has a son with wings. And our High Lady is also only fae, so there must be a possibility."

"What if he wants nothing to do with me?"

"Then you at least tried."

"Don't you think I will only be hurt more?"

You lift your head to look at her. There is a small smile on her lips, one that conveys support and warmth, her eyes shining with empathy.

She shakes her head. "You still have me. I won't leave you alone with this. I never would. But you still have to tell him."

You don't want to do it, you don't want to face Azriel, don't want to tell him, but you know she is right. You have to do it. He has a right to know.

This was a one night stand. 

You somehow caught the male's attention in a small bar in Velaris, and somehow he ended up in your bed. When you woke up, Azriel slipped into his trousers and out of your flat within a few moments. He was gone without a word, disappeared into the shadows, and you haven't heard from him since. You don't even know how to contact him. 

You don't know where he lives? Does he live with the High Lord? Or in this huge house on the mountain? With the general of the Illyrian armies and his mate?

"I don't know what to say to him," you whisper. 

The rain outside intensifies. Your friend uncurls her arm from around your shoulder, bringing it forward so she can clasp your hand in hers. 

She places a soft kiss to the top of your head and in a calm voice she says, "Tell him what you told me. That you don't understand how it happened and that you are afraid and want nothing more than his help."

"What if I want more than that?" You bite back a sob and turn your head a little.

"What if I want a little part of his heart. For the baby. If it—if we survive this, I want my baby to have a father. I want my baby to know its father." A single tear slips our of your eye and your friend quickly wipes it away with her thumb. 

"That is something to think about in the future. You need to think about yourself now, sweetie. You matter now, everything else is open for the future."

You nod, trying to agree with her, but the thoughts about the possibility of the baby never meeting its father are gnawing on you. 

And they keep gnawing on you the whole night where you lie awake, shifting and turning, your back aching, and tears still wetting your cheeks and pillow. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Cold sweat coats your back, your palms. Your knees wobble, and your whole body trembles as you lift your hand, drawing in a deep inhale. Then another. And another. Your hand rests on the cool door handle, but you can't bring yourself to pull it down. 

He really came.

You can hardly believe it. He got your letter, and he is truly here. Until a few moments ago, you doubted it. You did not think he would really follow your invite. You were very vague in your letter, only mentioned that if he remembers you you would have something important to discuss with him. It could have been a trap, but he must have recognised the urgency in your wording, must habe known he could trust you.

Drawing in another breath, you finally pull down the handle and your lips part as your eyes land on him. 

He is…still the most beautiful male you have ever seen in your life, covered in darkness and shadows, expression stoic, eyes glowing with curiosity.

But he came!

"You came," you whisper, voice trembling.

Your heart beats in your throat, hammering so fast and hard you think it might burst right through your ribcage. 

It was just a one-night stand, a fleeting moment of passion, but you still remember him so vividly. How he touched you, how he kissed you, how he held you. And how he left. You felt used and sad after it, but you shouldn't have. Both of you only wanted fun for a night, but still it somehow hurt when he left.

"You called." His voice is flat, no emotion in it as he speaks. His face is not necessarily cold, but nonchalant, emotionless.

Azriel is nothing but darkness as he stands there, shadows swirling around him, stretching out towards you.

He eyes you closely, jaw clenched slightly.

You barely know him, only know his body, but he is now connected to you in the most profound way possible. You carry a part of him inside of you. Your child. His child. 

Azriel's face is a mask of unreadable emotions, some clouds darken his eyes and you can’t tear your eyes away from his.

"I wasn't sure you if you—" "I do remember you."

Something, some unreadable emotion passes over his face, and a muscle in his jaw ticks. His hands, those scarred hands you felt all over your body, are folded behind his back, and he stands in a stance, almost like he is ready to fight whatever is about to come. A stern warrior, and not the passionate male you lay with. 

"Come in?" you say, your voice trembling slightly as you step aside to let him enter. Azriel hesitates, but eventually he walks in, gaze wary as it sweeps through the inside of your room. He is looking for possible danger, making sure the place is safe and you can't blame him for it. Your invite must have sound cryptic, he is careful and that is alright. 

"Why did you invite me?" Azriel asks, finally speaking up and taking the weight from your shoulder to open the conversation. 

You are wringing for the right words to explain it all as you lead him over to the kitchen counter. You lean against it, your gaze moving to his eyes.

You drop your glamour, and try to hold his gaze, but suddenly Azriel starts to sniff the air, his brows furrowing as he looks around him. It almost looks like understanding dawns on him, whirlwinds of emotions glowing in his eyes. He must sense it in this moment.

"I am with child!" you blurt out. 

The words are so loud in the room, they bounce off the walls and hollow through the room. Through your mind, making you feel dizzy for a second. 

You move your hand over your round belly, smoothing out the sweater, to show him the bump. 

 The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the sound of your own ragged breaths. 

Azriel says nothing, his face pales, his shoulders slump, and his whole expression and posture crumbles. 

He blinks, as if trying to process what you have just revealed. Although his face is unreadable, you can see the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. 

"Is it mine?" he asks and you want to face-palm him. You would do it, if it were under different circumstances. 

"Of course, it is yours. The babe has wings!"

The tone you have chosen wasn't alright, he could not have known, you could have been with other males…but why would you invite him and tell him then?

This revelation shatters him truly. Azriel begins to vehemently shake his head, like he can feel the weight of what the baby having wings means.

"No," he whispers, and then repeats the word over and over again. He brings a hand up, brushes his hair back and shakes his head again. "No, that can't be. You took the tonic, I did too. How did that happen?"

"I also don't have an explanation, I only know that I am with child now. A baby with wings." Your chin quivers, lower lip starting to tremble. You feel how your body begins to shake, blood rushing in your ears.

"And I am afraid." 

Once again the damn breaks, and a sob rips itself free.

Azriel says nothing, just stands there. 

"I understand that it is a lot to take in, that this is difficult, but I needed to tell you." 

You suck in a sharp breath, your tears tasting salty in your mouth. "I just thought you deserved to know. It was a one-night stand, and I never planned for any of this to happen, but it did, and I can't keep it a secret from you." 

You feel so vulnerable in this moment, your heart cracking open, everything inside you convulsing. 

It somehow angers you that he says nothing, but you had more time to deal with the newly learned information, he only found out now. Maybe he just needs more time to process. 

"I don't know what to say," he admits, his voice softer, and for the first time he lets his own emotions show, vulnerability flashing brightly in his eyes. "This is... unexpected. Overwhelming."

You nod, biting down on your lower lip. With the back of your hand you wipe away some tears. 

"I don't expect anything from you, I just…if the baby and I survive this, all I am asking for is a little bit of your heart. Not for me, for the babe."

Your voice is so terribly shaky, tears welling up in your eyes again as you try to hold his gaze. "I didn't expect it either," you whisper, wiping away a tear. "But I want the baby to know its father. If it ever comes to that."

Azriel is the one to suck in a breath now, the weight of his own childhood crashing down on him. Everything, every little pain when he was a child, bubbles up inside of him and his body starts to shake. 

The room is filled with a heavy silence once more. It feels like the walls are moving in on you, the room growing smaller and smaller, almost suffocating you.

As you wait for his response, your heart still races, but now it's not just with fear. There's a glimmer of hope, a spark of possibility that maybe, just maybe, he will grant you this wish and be a father for the child if it comes to that. 

"We are going to see my healer, the High Lord's healer. She knows about wings, she knows about babes with wings. You are not alone in this."

Azriel's steps are so fast, so unexpected, he hesitates for a moment, but suddenly his arms wrap around your shoulders and he embraces you tightly, his chin coming to a rest on top of your head. 

"I am not leaving you alone in this. It comes as a shock and I am sorry about my reaction, but this child is as much mine as it is yours, and it will have a part of my heart." His arm wraps around you tighter. "It will have my whole heart." 

He swallows, his chest heaving with a deep inhale and your curl your own arms around him, loud sobs ripping themselves free, muffled in the fabric of his shirt. "And so will you."

~~~~~~~~~~ tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

[fanfic-wonderland]

Not Just Friends {Coriolanus Snow}

Synopsis: After your breakup with Felix Ravinstill, you go to Coriolanus Snow for help and comfort. When you ask him to go to the Winter's Ball with you so you can make your ex-boyfriend jealous, he's hesitant. He has his reasons...

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Read part two here.

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When you arrive at the Snow residence one chilly afternoon, bawling your eyes out, nearly everyone is immediately worried. Coryo’s grandmother does not stick around for long to listen to your problems, claiming that she’s tired and will lie in bed for a while. However, Coryo, who looks the most concerned, guides you to their dining table, sitting beside you while Tigris heads directly to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea. “What happened?” He asks immediately.

You try to quiet down your sobs, taking a few deep breaths before answering him. “You were right. Felix is a no-good jerk. I should’ve listened to you.”

Coryo’s eyes darken at the mention of Felix’s name. He’s never been fond of him, much less when you started dating him a few months ago. You thought that he was just playing the role of the overprotective best friend when you first told him that you and Felix started seeing each other, and that he was being ridiculous when he had said that Felix was “the worst option for a boyfriend”. If only you had listened to him back then, you wouldn’t be crying over a broken heart right now. “What did he do?” Coryo asks in a low dangerous tone.

“He—” You shake your head as more tears fall down your cheeks. Coryo takes out a handkerchief from his pocket and grabs your chin softly, wiping them away. “I found him making out with Arachne in one of the classrooms.”

Coryo stops his movements, a hard look on his face. You try not to lose it again after the words leave your mouth but the image is freshly imprinted in your mind. The way his hands were all over her, while she grabbed at his hair… and how their mouths devoured each other…

You snap out of your thoughts when Coryo suddenly stands up and begins heading to the door. “Where are you going?” you ask frantically, following him.

“I’m going to kill him,” He answers but does not stop walking. “And her. I’ll kill them both.”

“No, Coryo, wait!” You grab him by the arm and pull him back. He finally turns back to you; his eyes are practically flames at this point. “They’re not worth it. Just… stay here with me, please,” You practically beg him. You feel your voice on the verge of breaking, again. “Please. I need you here with me.”

Coryo’s expression softens at your words and your glossy eyes make him silently give in. His arms wrap protectively around your figure and your cheek is pressed against his chest. You cry some more while he holds you, and it makes you feel a tad bit better.

A few moments later, the three of you are back at the table while you’re sipping from the tea that Tigris had brewed for you. The crying has finally stopped; the tea and the company were a big comfort. “I do want to ask you a favor that doesn't require killing anyone,” I direct my words to Coryo, who is already looking at me.

“Anything,” he says.

You sigh. “I want you to come with me to the Winter’s Ball.”

Coryo groans. “Anything but that,”

“Oh, please, Coryo,” You plead, clasping your hands together. “Both of them will be there and I just know that they'll be fuming if they see us together. Felix always hated the idea of us together and I just want him to see that I—”

“(Y/N), I already told you that I'm not going—”

“I know what you said,” you cut him off. Coryo typically does not mind going to social gatherings but the Winter’s Ball is different. He’s not fond of attending a dance filled with students who love to flaunt their wealth through over-the-top gowns and suits he cannot afford. At least not for now. “But if you could just do this one thing for me I will be forever grateful. I'll even pay for your suit, I have no problem doing—”

“Don’t,” He warns you. “Do not try to bribe me with that.”

You lower your head when you realize that you've made him angry. “Sorry.”

Silence follows and it feels like it goes on for too long. “Coryo,” Tigris chimes in. “Maybe it could be a good thing that you go with (Y/N). Aside from helping her out, it could also be a nice way to get your mind off things. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately.”

He narrows his eyes at her but before he can say something else, you beat him to it. “No, It’s okay. It was a dumb and petty idea anyway. Maybe I should just endure it as it is,” I stand up. “I should get going now. Thanks for the tea, and for listening. I'll see you guys later.”

Tigris walks you to the door while Coryo stays seated, keeping his eyes away from you. Moments later, Tigris comes back with a frown on her face. “Would it be so bad for you to go to the Ball?” She asks him softly.

Coryo closes his eyes and sighs. “You know how I feel about these things, Tigris.”

“I know. But you'd be helping (Y/N) out,” She points out. “Coryo, she's your best friend. How many times has she helped you without asking for anything in return?”

Countless times. And Coryo is sure that you'll keep helping him for as long as you can. It's only one of the many things he loves about you. “Tigris, you don't understand,” Coryo takes a moment before he confesses. “It’s not just about the Winter’s Ball. The mere thought of helping (Y/N) to make that good-for-nothing Felix Ravinstill jealous is…”

Tigris observes her cousin, the pained look on his face as he talks about you and your ex-boyfriend, and her eyes widen in realization. “Oh,” Coryo looks down at his hands, unable to say much. He’s already said enough. “Were you planning on telling her?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not worth it. She clearly doesn’t feel the same way.”

She places her hand on top of his. “I know it looks that way now, but there’s no telling what she truly feels unless you talk to her. You guys have known each other for so long that there may be something unspoken on her part, as well.”

Coryo doesn’t know what to say to that but the thought of you reciprocating his feelings stirs something inside him. He shouldn’t give in to them —he needs all his focus shifted to his studies to stay top of his class— but Tigris’ words make him reconsider his priorities, whether that’s a good thing or not.

***

You regret coming to the Winter’s Ball by yourself.

Everyone you see in the room is either coupled up or chatting away with other people. The people from the Academy who you once considered your ‘friends’ have taken Felix’s side after you guys broke up— all except one, but he's not here, so you're left sitting at an empty table on your own.

You've spotted Felix and Arachne a few times already, dancing together, and you try to distract yourself with a plate of food and a few drinks, but It's hard to look away when he's kissing her as if you aren't there. As if you guys hadn't dated at all.

You really shouldn't have come.

The plate is not even halfway empty but you've already lost your appetite. Your head is spinning and your chest feels heavy; the best thing you can do is leave. No one will notice anyway. 

So you quickly stand up from your seat but when you turn to leave you almost run into someone had you not realized sooner. “Sorry,” you say before looking up at their face. You nearly stumble backward when you take in those familiar blue eyes. “Coryo! You’re here.”

“Where you just leaving?” Coryo asks.

You shrug. “I didn’t feel like being here by myself.”

“Well, you’re not anymore,” He offers you his hand. There’s a hint of a smile as he says, “Would you like to dance?”

You’re speechless for a moment, not truly believing that Coriolanus Snow, one of the most persistent people you’ve ever met, is attending the Winter’s Ball with you. You almost pinch yourself to make sure that you’re not dreaming. The only thing you can do is nod and place your hand in his, and then he guides you to where everyone else is already dancing. People begin to turn their heads in your direction; some smile (at Coryo), some glare (at you), and some whisper to the person next to them, but you find that you don’t care. 

That is until you reach the center of the dancefloor and catch Felix and Arachne watching the both of you closely. His blazing stare almost succeeds in making you crumble, but you're brought back to reality when you feel Coryo’s thumb softly grazing the back of your hand. “Don’t pay attention to them,” He says close to your ear. You notice that he's smirking proudly at them and maybe that's the reason why Felix looks like he wants to kill someone. He's always had this crazy idea that you and Coryo were going behind his back, so this must feel like a slap in the face to him. You try to brush those thoughts aside and focus on the feeling of Coryo’s hand holding yours, how it makes you feel so warm inside.

The both of you turn to each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you close by the waist. Your bodies begin to sway to the music naturally; it feels like you guys aren’t just pretending. The other students certainly seem to believe so, seeing how, unlike when you first arrived, everyone’s attention is fully on both of you. After a few moments of dancing, you start to forget where you are, and it feels like It’s just you and him in the room. He makes you feel that way effortlessly just by the way he’s looking at you, and only you. It’s like nothing else matters to him in this one moment.

You only break eye contact with him when you’re suddenly spun around by someone behind you. “I knew it,” Felix spits his words out like they're venomous. “How convenient that right after we break up you’re here with none other than the guy you’ve always denied being involved with.”

You fold your arms across your chest, scowling up at him. At that moment, you beat yourself up for crying over a guy like him. “I've always been truthful. I never went behind your back. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for you.”

“You act like you're so innocent, right?” Felix scoffs. “You always said nothing was going on between you and Snow but here you are throwing yourself at him in front of everyone.”

Your blood begins to boil. Before you can say anything else, Coryo steps in front of you. “Watch your mouth, Ravinstill,” He warns. “I’d think carefully about what to say if I were you.”

Felix laughs dryly. “This doesn't concern you, Snow.”

“It does because she's with me tonight and I won't tolerate you addressing her like that.” 

Coryo steps closer to Felix, practically hovering above him. Although Felix is slightly shorter, he doesn't seem the least bit intimidated. “Right. Figured you would play hero and jump right into defending your little whore from—”

Coryo’s fist meets Felix’s face before he can finish talking, sending him straight to the ground. Everyone who is watching the scene gasps in horror. Once he recovers, Felix manages to connect a punch to Coryo’s jaw, but it will take more than that to take him down. Coryo’s much stronger than him— and much angrier.

You call out Coryo’s name in panic, trying to get him to stop, but he keeps grabbing at Felix and punching him numerous times until his knuckles are stained with Felix’s blood. You begin to think that he might kill him. “Coryo, stop!” You cry out again, trying to hold him back by the arm.

He finally listens but his attention is still on Felix, who is lying on the floor and whose face is more than messed up now. A few students try to help him out and you take that opportunity to drag Coryo outside.

You figure he needs some fresh air. You know you certainly do. So both of you walk around the Academy grounds for a bit, arms linked with each other and neither of you saying anything until you find a bench right across from the fountain and you sit down. By the time you do, Coryo has calmed down a bit, although he still looks shaken up. You notice the bruise starting to form across his jaw, and you have a sudden urge to run your fingers through it, to do everything you can to make it go away. 

Coryo catches you looking. “It doesn't hurt much,” He reassures you. “You probably hit harder than him.”

You chuckle, too exhausted to pretend to be offended. “Are you alright, though?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“I think so,” You nod, fiddling with your fingers.

You break away from his gaze but you can still feel him staring. “Hey,” he places a hand on your cheek to get you to look back at him. “Nothing that he said is true, and I hope you know that.”

A fluttering feeling forms in your stomach. His eyes have always been your weakness.

“I know that, It’s just…” You shake your head. “I feel like all of this is my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to come with me, because clearly, it was a horrible plan. And now I probably fucked things up for you— your reputation might be deeply affected now that you beat up the president’s son.”

Coryo doesn't say anything. His lips remain a thin line on his gorgeous face. “I should really start listening to you from now on, huh?” You try to joke.

You guess it works as Coryo smiles faintly. “I think that's the best idea you’ve had so far,” he agrees. “But I could care less about my image right now. He deserved that—no, worse. No one talks about you like that and gets away with it. Not if I can help it.”

His words make your insides jump. You try to control it because since when does Coryo have such an effect on you? Your relationship has always been nothing but platonic. “The thought of you hurting over a guy like him pains me so much because he doesn't deserve you. Fuck, even I don't deserve you, but I would never, ever do something to hurt you like that,” You swear he’s leaning his face closer to yours. “You're the most important thing to me, (Y/N). You’re so precious and I don’t think you see just how much. But I do. I’ve always seen it.”

You gape at him. “Coryo…”

You were not expecting him to say something like that. Coriolanus Snow has always been far from the romantic type. Charming, absolutely, but you have never heard him express any desire to be romantically involved with someone, let alone yourself. You don’t know how to answer to him. “You don’t have to say anything right now,” He tells you. “I just needed you to know how much you truly mean to me.”

And then he stands up and walks away, leaving you cold, confused, and alone with your thoughts.

[ouchthathurts]

❝ WE'RE PROVING TO EACHOTHER THAT ROMANCE IS BORING. ❞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐬) ⋮ Daisuke x AFAB! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⋮ 3.4k

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ⋮ 1 | 2 |

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋮ Your best friend from high school is working at the same internship as you!

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⋮ Cross-Posted on AO3 | Second Person Point of View | Angst | References to sex | Series? | Marijuana Use | Alcohol Use | Romance Is Boring - Los Compensinos

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ⋮ BINGO BANGO BABY!!!! I’ll be honest that I’m weighing on making this a series, I want to but I’m looking for the push

There’s a familiar warmness that breaks from the open window, you smack your lips as you feel your tongue roll against the roof of your mouth, the taste of fruity alcohol mixed with marijuana has nestled into your tastebuds.

You miss the tongue in your mouth that helped implant it, stirring around and you couldn’t be happier to have someone, you held in such high regard, mix with you. You clutch the blankets and pull them to your chest—

What is there left to hide from him?

You slowly pull yourself from under the blankets, your naked top now feels the sun beat onto your chest, you try to recollect last night and think about what your next actions should be. There’s familiarity in the room, the old scratched up records pinned to a wall with an acoustic guitar that was never played properly, work out bean bags, and a small round table with scratched up games' controllers on it. There’s a box of pizza, one slice left—

“You can have it, just heat it up in the morning.”

You don’t take it, no matter how much you feel the vibration in your stomach, you suck it up and began to collect your clothes scattered around the area. You see the familiar Sonic CD rug in the center of the room just before the bed, there you find your underwear, you see your shirt on top of the lava lamp next to his bed, and you find your bottoms next to your school bag.

Your shoes are downstairs, his parents always had slippers to offer at the door whenever you and/or his other friends would come over. It was the only thing they were really strict on when it came to him. You look inside your bag, nothing but schoolbooks and the binder you used for all your note taking, you throw it out the window and into one of the bushes in front of his house.

You look for your phone, on the dresser with some old DVDs of movies that his mother still had, none of them were really interesting except for this one you really enjoyed. ‘Your Name Engraved Herein’, it always made him cry, you had to comfort him after the movie but no matter how many times you tried to tell him that it’s okay, he just continued to bawl into your shoulder about how amazing this movie was.

Maybe it was because you didn’t pay attention to the movie, more focused on his expression as he experienced the movie, he’d tell you little tid bits and explained it to you afterwards when you told him you didn’t really understand. There was always commentary with him when it came to movies, you loved every second of his little movie watching sessions, friends would throw popcorn and hush him, but you eagerly leaned in to hear him whisper small facts about the movies he’d have you all watch.

Even when he finished explaining the movie you didn’t get it, but he told you: “I cried every time I’ve watched this movie without fail, ever since I was like in middle school, my mom would watch this movie, and it would be me and her crying our eyes out over it.”

You grabbed your phone, around the 20% mark it was mainly just texts from your mother about spending the night at his again, she would tell you that you were messing up the future she was perfectly crafting for you and that you needed to learn more discipline before college started. It was always grades, attendance, and extracurriculars with her.

You only did the bare minimum, average grades, average attendance, and chess club.

Your mother hated it.

“He's bringing you down! His parents don't even care about what he's up to! You think I'm gonna let you mess everything I have going for you for some low life boy who can't even follow something as simple as wearing a uniform to school?”

You defended him, like you always did, why wouldn't you? He was there for you when you were down, always there for you, like he was there for you this weekend. You kept scrolling through messages; besides your mother, it was only him who would text you daily.

You had people you studied with, your mother’s friends’ kids, and the family you were already distant with. You had to get home. You slid all your clothes on before you peeped your head through the door, the sound of the shower running and music coming from the speaker he took in the shower with him blaring through the empty house.

His father worked on weekends and his mother went grocery shopping Sunday, “Was it Sunday?” You thought out loud, you couldn’t think about the time you were last back at your house, you made your way down the stairs and towards the door when you found your shoes.

You slip them on and then make your way out; after closing the door you pick up the rock from the little pond, they had next his porch, you lock the door and place the key back where it belongs. You go through the bushes, searching for your bag and a huff out of frustration when you dust the dirt off of it.

There's another huff as you sling the bag over your shoulder and then silence, there's sounds of nature from his neighborhood and now her you were just walking down the street, hoping on the next bus and another back towards the apartment your mother and you shared.

As you unlock the door your mother sits on the couch, she's watching her programs with the same 4 speakers on the different channels she's gone through in the past

“At his place again?” And the way she can't even say his name, it melts off her tongue like a slur and you can't help but bite back a response before she gets up. “Well, how was it? His family feed you?” You shook your head, “No, ma'am. His parents weren't home.”

Why would you say that?

You see the anger in her face, “Oh?” The woman makes her way over to you, there's no hesitation in your stature as it's a routine check. The way she pulls down the collar of your shirt leaves your breath to hitch, you try to snatch her wrist only for her long and jagged nails to scratch at the skin of your palm leaving you to hiss in pain.

There's no surprise with the number of dark marks that were collected by the boy, it was his first time as much as it was yours. You feel the warmness in your cheeks before your mother's eyes burn into you, her stare boiling you alive as you do nothing but just stare at the ground.

“Look at me when I talk to you,” Your name is a bark of a command, called out like a show dog to those she wants to impress then kicked at like a mutt the rest of the time. You pull your head up, you don't want anymore imprints in your cheeks, your acne already fucking up your face as is.

“What did you two do?” You roll your eyes, mumbling ‘Nothing.’ before she snatches up your jaw, those nails now cut up the pimples on your face to leave the pus to pop out You want to whine, cry like a child, ‘Mommy! Stop! You're hurting me!’ You, unfortunately, allow this with your eyes creasing and a small frown rugging on your lips that seems don't only make her madder.

“Your breath reeks of weed and alcohol. I can't believe you'd go and mess around with that boy, after everything I told you!” The woman lets out a pained sigh, as if her coming to spit in your face and yell at you was somehow your puppeteering her to do so. “What if he got you pregnant? How could you do something so dumb! It doesn't even surprise me, he probably talked you into it–Knowing his little delinquent self and his little gang he's probably riddled with some type of disease.”

You want to tell her off, he would never do something like that, all his friends are different from him, they're all a bunch of party goers that just want to do narcotics and fuck each other silly.

“He's not like that.” You strained out of your pursed lips, your mother's tongue smacks against the roof of her mouth, “The boy is nothing but spoiled. His parents just give, give, give, give, and give to some little freeloader who's going to do nothing for his life besides leaching off his parents' money.” You can't hear this anymore.

“He's actually trying to get a job!” Your mother cackles, “Oh yeah? He's getting a job?” “Yes!” “Well, why doesn't he already have one like you do? You got your own job at the library when you were 14, you were obedient then, before you met that little…” There's a seething rage in the woman, she's sucking at her teeth, and she'll be grinding them into a fine powder if she continues.

You bite your tongue, he had definitely had an impact on you, like he always has. You wanted to try and dye your hair one day with him, layer your outfits, be outside of the uniform, wear make up, dress up on those days where you were allowed casual dress, and take your time with life in general.

Those nights he'd stare at stars on the roof with you, he'd point up and explain how sometimes he felt so small in this world. “This is really the one way I can try and be in impact on such a big world!” He gestures to his brightly colored outfit; you find yourself lost in his expression as it's just a nice mix of brightly colored acrylics that melded with his tanned skin.

You admire him.

Even as spit hits your face you're left with the same rant over and over again, “I work hard at my job so you have all the tools not to end up like me, slaving away for some ungrateful brat of a child, instead never having kids and being happy you don't have to waste your money on some freeloader until it's too late.”

Your mother took responsibility to raise you, even after your father was distant to the idea, it be some apparent that these two were working in separate directions that only pulled you apart.

Honestly, if it wasn't for him, you'd be on the ground with a full bottle of pills being guzzled down your throat.

Your mother notices your expression and she huff, “Stop being around, hanging around him, being around him, he'll do nothing but drag you down and he won't be doing you any good in the future other than a book up for narcotics.” The woman gets all in your face, “You wanna end up like me? I only stopped doing all those things once I found out I was pregnant with you! Do you really want to end up like me?”

Strikes a nerve.

You never wanted to be like your mother, her sad life with a child who could only resent their mother, her boyfriend who abandoned her to go do more drugs, and no one to fall on. It's sad, you feel for her, you see where she's coming from you, and you sigh upon seeing her fall to her knees to grab at yours.

The woman sobs into your thighs, wincing at the familiar grip from the night before most definitely bruising them from such harsh treatment, “Pl-ease!” The squeak in her voice as she says your name, she is begging and all you can do is try to comfort a woman who has never taught you how to comfort someone. You rub her head, and she sighs, sniffling a bit before she continues, “I don't want you to end up like me! Don't love someone who's only going to bring you down! I know you can do better!”

Your mother wouldn't tell you it now, but you were now stuck with this. Your mother always knew if you were around him, she worked there as the librarian. You were called to stay later helping your mother, doing more on campus, and a demand for straight as after a C in an AP course came up.

It wasn't surprising since the both of you took the same class.

You couldn't let your mother win but here you were, letting her win, and you could do nothing as you found her beginning to bring the hammer down. “I can't let ever you make a mistake that big again.” You were tested for everything; she kept track of your periods and was around you whenever you had free time.

“You've been summoned to the library,” The dreaded phone call before you left class, it killed something in you when you and he could barely talk most days. You guys didn't really share class, even when he went out his way to take APs it became apparent to him how much harder it was for him to really keep up with you.

Those daily ‘Good morning!’ messages fell into weekly ‘Have a good week!” texts. Not because of him, but because of you. You couldn't even keep up with everything, once your mother pinpointed the college you needed to get into or she'd kick you out, simply if you applied yourself the way your mother wanted.

But it meant you'd have to leave him behind…

D-S ▼⁠・⁠ᴥ⁠・⁠▼

Hey! I know last night was a lot. I'm sorry if I messed up, I know I wasn't going to be the best but I’m sure you'll have other people do it way better than me!

1:30 PM 9/05

Good morning! Good morning! Good morning!

9:45 AM 9/06

When do you get off work today?

4:30 PM 9/06

I'm getting pizza, do you want me to get you a box???

2:49 PM 9/14

Y'know one for now, one for when you're depressed! I finally got the reference!

2:58 PM 9/14

Are you okay?

3:24 AM 9/30

Did I do something wrong?

3:25 AM 9/30

I'm sorry if I did anything wrong

3:29 AM 9/30

I mean that, I'm really sorry

3:33 AM 9/30

Can we talk?

3:34 AM 9/30

We haven't like sleep called in forever, and it would give us time to talk stuff out, whatever I did wrong you can tell me.

3:45 AM 9/30

Please?

3:48 AM 9/30

I didn't know you and Ange became friends I always thought you both hated each other.

12:39 PM 10/19

I didn't do our matching costumes it felt like a disservice if it wasn't with you.

4:29 PM 10/30

Dude, family's being weird, wish you were here!

7:38 PM 11/28

Happy Holidays, I got you something! Do you know when I can come over and give it to you?

11:29 AM 12/25

Hey, I'm having this new year party! Y'know like new year new me! I plan on trying out for stuff like sports and getting on my academics!

9:28 AM 12/31

I'm tryna get like you!

9:40 AM 12/31

My parents asked about you today, they were like ‘When are you coming over?’ and ‘What are you up to these days?’

10:02PM 1/17

Happy Valentine's Day, I know you got a lot of stuff cause you're just cool like that

10:38AM 2/14

Even I got you something!

10:38 AM 2/14

Lmk when I can give it to you!

10:38 AM 2/14

I'm sorry for being annoying this year, I really am sorry for anything I did to you. Have a good time in college!

11:00 AM 6/30

You began to avoid him, he'd go to the library to rent out a book and watch as you restock, he'd text you and you'd have the read receipt there just to think about responding to him only to put the phone down, you walk around campus without a care, cordial whenever faced with head on confrontation, and that's how it was until you graduated.

You went off, pursued your own interest in space your mother said it was your choice to study nut it needed to make enough money for you and her. Now you were just as excited to get on and do things outside of your mother now that you were finally free from the woman. You decided to take all your classes online, you'd had this internship lined up for you and nothing could bring you more joy than joining the manpower in space.

There's a big smile on your face as you meet your comrades, Curly, your pilot and Jimmy, the Co-Pilot, you'd be shadowing the two for tour duration of their trip on the Pony Express. Anya, the nurse, who would be the only woman on the ship, you loved to be around her and her little jokes. Then there was Swansea, he wouldn’t stop complaining about having some intern, “They better pull their weight.” The man grumbled out.

You weren’t shocked to find out you guys were waiting on another guy, the two of you added last minute on behalf of the Pony Express, finally a guy popped through the door, explaining that he was at a party the night before celebrating Earth before he had to leave. Your eyes crease as you examine the man’s features, ‘No fucking way.’

That lovingly sun kissed complexion that had the contrast of his brighter highlights against his already chestnut colored hair. There, on his face, stood the markers for where you kissed on him that night, a mole under his right eye and the left mole lower down his round cheeks.

The fact that he couldn't even wear the uniform alone almost made you fall before him, he hadn't changed in ways you thought he would, and it tore at your heartstrings to realize how much you missed him. The familiar sound of the two bangles on his wrist that contrasted the red wrist band he wore that you also had from the first party he took you to.

There's a plethora of excuses that rush out of his mouth, and you just listen to now his voice only be one softer to your ears. Earning its way into your eardrums to nestle in your memory in order to haunt you for the rest of your stay.

While the group continues to get everything on the ship there's a silence that falls between the two of you when his eyes finally land on you. Your friend was a day you could never forget, the morning after your happiest night alive, you'd coo into his ear that you loved him, and he'd do the same with a chaste kiss on your forehead.

Yet, here you were, reliving those memories and wondering how the fuck do you even start the conversation. You watch as he makes his way over, your rib cage encased around your organs before crushing them like a corset.

With each step your breath hitches, your eyes faltering between looking him in the eyes only for your nostrils to fill with disgustingly sweet peach cologne he had to have. Why wear something like that for all these years? You're grateful he would even wear something like this to this day.

There's a hand on front of you, wide open with some rings on his fingers, his fingers spread a bit and when you take one last inhale of his cologne you pull your head up to look him in the eyes. There's a warmness in his face, it hasn't worn down and has only brightened since you last saw him, you feel your heart clench as you hear his voice.

“Heya! I'm Daisuke, I’m psyched to be working with someone as new as me!”

©ouchthathurts please don't translate, claim as yours, redistribute and/or plagiarize in any way. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[woso-lover234]

Mapi and ingrid x (child) reader- nightmares

"mami, mama" you said peaking out from your hiding place behind the hallway wall as Ingrid and mapi turn from where they were facing the tv to look at you.

"What are you still doing up bebita?" Mapi asked opening her arms for you to run into which you did without hesitation.

"Bad dream" you mumbled into her neck as her and Ingrid sighed, this had been a regular occurrence recently. Eventually you fell asleep in mapis arms as they decided it would just be easier for you to sleep in their bed with them so they would at least get a full night of sleeping though with a few kicks and hits here and there from you in your sleep but they would deal with that if it mean you wouldn't come up to them in the middle of the night bawling your eyes out when they had training the next day. They had made the mistake of taking you back to your room which resulted in you coming back and they decided after not having slept well the past few days they would make it easier on themselves.

When you woke up for training the next day you were still groggy and tired so mama decided they would keep you in your pyjamas which was your mamas jersey and mamis shorts which meant you could sleep sometime at training. Your mami and you usually hung out in the gym while she did her exercises for her knee but today she took you out to the field.

Barca Instagram were filming your mami as it was her first training after returning from injury. She was walking to the pitch with you next to her, your right arm holding her leg with one hand while the thumb of your other hand was in your mouth even though your dummy was clipped to your shirt. You had your blankie tucked under your left arm as you kept as close to her as possible as you were using her for balance.

"Hey bebita" patri and pina cooed at you as you shoved your head into your mamis leg as she groaned feeling your slobbery thumb on her calf as Ingrid laughed slightly

"She's a bit tired aren't you bebita" she said as you nodded against her leg and she ran her fingers through your hair which made your body sag more into her which didn't go unnoticed by the defender "I think it's nap time" she said as she picked you up but you shook your head

"No nap" you said but she nodded and put your dummy in your mouth which you tried to spit out but your mami held it gently in your mouth as you begrudgingly accepted it and she kissed you on the forehead in approval

"Ok no nap but how about you go sit with jana and give her big cuddles because she's still hurt" she said and you nodded as she led you over to where jana was watching on the bench

"Hola my favourite bebita" Jana cooed as you got transferred into her arms as you just sagged into her "is it nap time for little bebitas?" Jana asked which made you shake your head against her chest

"You need cuddles to get better" you murmured with your dummy half in your mouth so Jana only caught half of what you said

"Oh of course im so silly" Jana giggled as you just nodded and started nodding off as Jana threw a thumbs up at mapi and Ingrid who mouthed back a thank you

After a long fight and Jana gently running her finger from in between your eyebrows to your nose a few times you were asleep so Jana gently placed your blank or over your eyes even though you were still gripping onto it, it was big enough to still cover them. You were finally asleep. But not for long as after 30 short minutes you woke up and began screaming and crying which caught the attention of your mani and mama who came running over along with your tía ale, your other favourites pina and Patri and the rest of the team. Mama took you into her arms and began shushing you as you babbled incoherently about what happened in your nightmare though no one could understand so they were still confused on what happened. Ingrid gently pulled your dummy out of your mouth as she gently patted your bum to soothe you

"can you use your big girl words and tell us what happened?" Ingrid asked gently as you nodded and she wiped away your slowing tears

"Big big monster" you started as you used your hands and opened them as wide as you could "and it are you and mami and tía ale and Jana and Bruna and pina and Patri and Cata and Salma and oni and-" you started naming the whole team before you cut yourself off and shoved your face into your mamis neck and sobbing again as your mums and the rest of the team frowned but their hearts also swooned at how sad you were that they got eaten

"It's okay there's no monsters here" mama cooed to you as mami rubbed your back "and look everyone is here and safe" mama said lifting you slightly and showing you everyone that had gathered around

"Where's oni?" You asked after doing a checklist of everyone and not seeing her "and and baby mateo" you said and your mums saw how you were getting stressed

"Onas in recovery do you wanna go see her and im sure Irene could phone mateo for you" mami said glancing at Irene who nodded and pulled her phone out her pocket

"Wanna see oni" you said as you dropped your head onto your mamas shoulder as she and mami walked with you to the recovery room

"Look there's oni" mami said as soon as the three of you walked into the room which caught onas attention

"Hey bebita, have you been crying?" She said walking over to you as you just nodded and reached out your hands to make sure she was real as she accepted you. You touched her face, squeezing her cheeks and poking her nose which made you giggle slightly before determining she was ok as you have her a sloppy kiss before your mami took you this time and you waved bye to Ona as you left.

"Hey I have Lucia on FaceTime with mateo whenever you guys are ready" Irene informed your mums as you walked up to her and she handed the phone to mama

"Mateo?" You whispered before his face popped up on the screen and he waved "your ok?" You asked and he nodded "no monster bites?" You asked as he shook his head and you nodded "ok" you sighed, relieved as mateo was one of your best friends to play with when he came to training

"No monsters" he reiterated as you nodded again before waving bye to him and his other mami.

"You feeling better bebita?" Mami asked and you nodded as she kissed your forehead and mama handed Irene back her phone

"Who do you want cuddles with for the rest of training?" Mama asked as you thought for a minute before deciding you wanted cuddles with Vicky who was your newest best friend and you wanted to show her that you loved having her here

"Vicky" you said as mama nodded and went to ask the young player who a few seconds later came bounding over as you scrambled to get out of your mamis arms and into Vicky's. You instantly relaxed into her and she relaxed knowing you were as she wasn't very well trained in holding babies but you seemed fine so she didn't think she was that bad.

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Cabin - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader

A/N: Written for this request. I hope I did it okay. I left a lot of things vague, but I didn't wanna make up a situation for this one. Also, if anyone saw this post early, no you didn’t

I hope Logan doesn't come off as too ooc. Writing him getting angry around Reader didn't feel right for the request, so l wrote it like this instead

CW: crying, unsafe driving (due to crying), family fights, Reader has a toxic mother, I think this counts as hurt/comfort?, more crying, quiet comfort, cuddling, kissing, hugging, Logan's more of an actions guy than a words guy, hopeful ending sorta?, ooc Logan

672 words

You were crying while driving. It’s a little bit disheartening; how well you know this road by now. How easily you can navigate it, even with your tear-blurred vision.

But you don’t stop. You can’t. Where else do you go?

It’s not the first time you’ve driven up this road after a fight with your mother. But this time was different.

You’d finally gotten the courage to come out to her. To set her straight about who you really are. And of course, everything had fallen apart the moment you’d spoken the words, “I’m trans.”

Hell hath no fury like your mother. Even now, you flinch at the memory. You push it out of your mind forcefully. The last thing you want is to start bawling and have to pull over.

Pulling over means stopping. And stopping means facing the fact that you have four boxes in the back of your car, filled with everything she let you take.

All too soon, you’re arriving at your destination. Logan’s house. It’s small. Tucked away in the mountains. Cozy, with a beautiful view.

It’s become your safe place. The one place your mother’s too scared to venture. It’s home.

And now it may really become your home.

You take the time to clean your face up. Making it look a little less like you’ve been crying. He’ll be able to tell; you already know. But it helps you focus on something.

Finally, you exit your car. You leave the boxes in the back, taking only yourself as you walk up to the front door. His truck is in the driveway, so you open the door without knocking.

“Logan?”

“In the living room.” His voice is gruff and immediately soothing. Just the sound has a weight lifting off your shoulders.

You go further in, toeing off your shoes at the doorway.

He’s lounging in the living room, comfortably sprawled on the couch. He’s reading a book, though he puts it down once you enter. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Something breaks in your chest at his question. Your heart, maybe. Tears spring to your eyes and your voice comes out shaky. “I got kicked out.”

Logan sits up, beckoning you to come closer. “Come here. Tell me what happened.”

You make it into the safety of his arms before everything spills out with a sob. And oh, you tell him everything.

You can feel him tense as you speak, but he never gets angry. He never says anything. He just holds you.

Once you’re all done, he rubs your back. Quietly soothing you into soft hiccups of breath. Your tears have all dried up, leaving your eyes itchy and sore. You feel like shit, except for the fact that you're with him.

“Say something?” You whisper.

He rumbles out a sigh. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need. A place to stay, a voice against her. I’ll do whatever it is you want me to.”

You think about what you want. What you need. “I want to stay here. Will you help me get the boxes out of my car?”

He pulls you in for a gentle kiss and nods. But he hesitates before getting up. “No matter who you are, you’re always safe here. You’re always safe to be yourself.”

It’s gruffly said, but clearly heartfelt. You know he’s rarely so direct about it; preferring unspoken ways of love to words. But he’s doing it for you.

You hug him tightly, a silent appreciation of his words. He’s never been one for grandiose displays of affection or comfort. Instead, he’s your cabin in the mountains. Quiet. Steady. Always there when you need it.

It gives you hope. Confidence. Logan’s got your back. Whatever you decide to do, whatever ways you choose to continue on, he’ll go with you.

It gives you the strength to stand up, gather your shoes, and lead him out to finally face the boxes in your car.

No matter what, you’ve got Logan. And she can never take that away from you.

Logan Howlett Taglist: @yhlqmdlg @alekkkkssss

[newtonsheffield]

On that beautiful note, my friend - is it possible for us to see Anthony actually taking care of Kate - maybe when she's sick?

I just watched me before you and bawled like a baby and just need a little bit of hurt comfort to heal my soul.

I would be so grateful if you would!

Oh I don’t think being sick is easy for Kate at all. I think actually letting herself be taken care for when she’s used to having to just get on with things and still go about her day.

She knew from the second she woke up, the room stifling with Anthony’s weight behind her, pressed against her back. The back of her throat was dry and scratchy and her head was pounding. She let out a groan and slipped out from under the arm pinning her against Anthony’s skin, their legs intertwined.

“You okay?”

Anthony’s voice was warm and sleepy just like it always was when he’d just woken up, his hair sticking up in a thousand different directions as he looked up at her through his eyelashes.

“Yeah,” Her voice was more of a croak and Anthony’s head lifted off the pillow, his brow furrowed as he reached out, pressing his palm against his forehead.

“Babe, you’re hot.”

“Always happy to receive a compliment.” She tried to brush it off even though her head spun as she stood up.

Anthony rolled his eyes, following her. “Well, you’re that always but I meant; you feel like you have a fever.”

“I’m fine.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging him back against his chest and resting his chin on her shoulder. “You’re not fine.”

“So maybe I’m not feeling a hundred percent.” Kate relented, “But I have so much to do today. I have meetings and I need to get Neddy ready and-”

“I’ll call your office. I’ll call Sophie.” Anthony said firmly, “You’re not going anywhere.”

“You have to go to work.” Kate said weakly, relaxing against him as her eyelids drooped.

Anthony chuckled, “I’m a professional rich person remember. I basically just spin around in my office chair all day.”

She was fairly sure that wasn’t true but she couldn’t be bothered to argue with him as he dragged her back to bed, tucking her in with a kiss to her forehead as he tugged a Tshirt over his head. “Go back to sleep, Trouble. I’ll take care of everything.”

She felt her eyelids flutter closed before Anthony had even made his way across the room and she woke a little later to muffled voices in the corridor.

“I wanna see Amma. Make sure she’s okay.”

Kate’s eyes flicked towards the bedside table and her heart clenched when she saw the box of tissues next to some cold and flu medication propped up against a glass of water, tears pricking in her eyes at the smiley face scribbled on the box.

“You can see Amma, but you have to be really quiet, okay Buddy?” Anthony was saying gently.

“Can I give her a big hug so she feels better?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Anthony said. “And when she wakes up and I’ve finished cooking we can stay in bed all day and watch movies.”

“Okay.” The door cracked open and Kate saw Neddy’s tiny face peek through “Amma?”

“Hey, baby.”

Neddy padded into the room, concern etched on his face. “Daddy says you’re poorly.”

“I’m better now you’re here.” She patted the mattress beside her and Neddy scrambled up, shimmying under the covers.

Kate tucked him against her chest, squeezing tightly while Anthony made his way over. He kissed the top of her head with a serious expression before he held out a thermometer. “Open, please.”

“Ant, please. Neddy’s here.” She tried to joke but it sounded weak.

“Funny.” He rolled his eyes, as she let him take her temperature. He waited for it to beep before he checked it, letting out a sad tut as he checked his watch making note of the temperature.

Kate stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious Kate. I’m taking this very seriously.” He snapped two pills out of the pack. “Take these please. Your frittata should be out of the oven in about-” -He checked his watch again “4 minutes.”

“My frittata.”

“Yes, eggs are full of protein that you need to recover.”

“I have the flu, Ant.”

“And you need to recover properly otherwise it’ll drag on.” A knock sounded through the house and Anthony clapped his hands. “That’ll be Ben with my soup ingredients.”

“Soup ingredients?”

“Yes, Soup.” Anthony kissed her forehead again. “Love you. Neddy, look after Amma.”

“Yep!” Neddy said sincerely, his chest puffing out with the responsibility.

“Your Daddy’s silly.” Kate said, flopping back against the pillows.

“Daddy loves us.”

“He does.” She smiled as they settled against the pillows. “He does.”

“I love you.” She told Anthony gently that night, her nose blocked and her head still pounding with Anthony’s arms wrapped around her and Neddy conked out on the pillows beside them.He’d force fed her all day practically, fluttering around her like an anxious chicken, so much love and devotion behind his eyes. “You make me really happy.”

She felt Anthony take a deep breath and his voice sounded small when he answered. “Thank you.” He squeezed her tightly, “Thank you. You make me happy too. I love you so much, Trouble. Always.”

[anonsturniolo]

Handcuffed to love ✧₊⁺

policeofficer/probationofficer!matt x criminal!reader

Part 1 of ???

warnings: mentions of drugs. mature themes follow, read at your own risk.

Waking up in a jail cell wasn’t on my bingo card, for my entire life to be quite honest. An innocent college party turned into a police raid, leaving me to get caught with a microscopic bag of coke in my purse. To make matters even worse, I was arrested by the hottest cop I had ever seen. 

He had bright blue eyes, perfectly tanned skin, and a delicious amount of tattoo’s scattered across his left arm. My hazy mind at the time wanted to trace each and every one with my tongue, but I knew better. He had looked at me with a different type of disgust, and I knew he would never want anything to do with me. A girl could dream though. 

“Y/N Y/L/N?” A deep voice broke me out of my thoughts. I look up to find the cop from last night staring straight at me. I stand up on shaky legs, stepping up to the metal bars. 

“What's up?” I ask, not sure if I was being released or if he was just making sure I was still here. I glanced at the name tag sprawled across his shoulder, reading M. Sturniolo. 

“Hands.” He sighed, holding a pair of handcuffs. I slide my hands into the now open slot that was waist level, letting him slide the cuffs over my wrists, wincing as he tightens them.

“Sorry.” He murmured to me as he took a step back, looking towards someone down the hall before a buzz sounds and the door is unlocked. He opens the door, gesturing to me to come out of the cell. I take a few timid steps, not wanting to push my luck. I had no idea what was happening or where I was going. 

His warm hand wraps around my bicep, urging me forward. We walk in silence and I take the time to glance around as we walk. I find several women sitting and crying as they enter jail cells and make phone calls. My heart breaks for them, wondering what led them to be here. 

He opens a door, leading me into what I assume is an investigation room. There were two metal chairs on opposite sides of a dirty metal table, a large two way mirror taking up a good portion of the wall behind the chair he was guiding me to. 

“Here's the deal Miss Y/N,” He starts, sitting down across from me, “You can tell me the name of who you got the drugs from, pay a small fine, do some time on probation, and get the hell out of here.” He cuts right to the chase, leaning his arms against the table and shifting forward. 

“So you need just the name?” I clarify, making him nod. “So you don’t need an arrest before this deal takes place?” I question, watching the way his eyes slightly widen in surprise. 

“What makes you ask that?” He questions, glancing at the mirror behind me. 

I shrug, smiling at him sheepishly, “I may have been watching Breaking Bad all week.” I tell him, almost grinning to myself as I see the corners of his mouth turn upwards, fighting the urge to smile. 

“No, we don’t need to make any arrests for your deal to take place. This is your first offense, and you passed the drug test.” He informed me, making me nod. “So, the name?” He asks after a couple beats of silence. 

“I’ll tell you his name on one condition.” I state bravely, despite the fact I wanted to start bawling. 

He shakes his head, “You think you can make demands now darlin’?” He rasps, making my stomach twist with anxiety. 

I nod anyway, “I have something you want, and I want my deal to be a tad bit sweeter.” I responded calmly. I needed to keep my cool so I could also keep the upper hand. 

“What is it?” He questions curiously, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms across his chest. 

It’s my turn to lean forward on the table, looking him directly in the eyes, “I want all of this to come off my record once my probation is over.” I speak slowly and carefully, leaving no room for any misunderstanding. He nods softly, before he rises to his feet, holding up one finger before he exits the room. 

I sit in silence, letting my eyes travel across the barren room. I spot a spiderweb in the left corner of the ceiling, my skin crawling with disgust. I need to get out of here. My leg began to shake with anticipation, when I was about to start losing my mind, the door opened. 

Officer Sturniolo walks back into the room, taking the seat across from me again. He stays silent, just observing me, waiting for me to break. Two can play this game. My eye’s travel across his face, memorizing the shape of his eyebrows and the way his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he blinks. 

“We have our own conditions, in order to include yours.” He speaks after a few minutes of silence, I nod for him to continue, “You have one infraction during your probation, it stays on your record. You lie to us, it stays on your record.” He informs me sternly, making my mouth run dry. 

“Okay, we have a deal then.” I reply softly, lowering my eyes to the table before looking back at him confusedly, “Where do I sign?” I ask, glancing across the table but not finding any papers. 

He smirks slightly, “They’re printing up the changes, it’ll just be a few minutes.” He replies cockily, sending warmth between my legs. Of course I’d be attracted to the one man I’ll never have. We sit in a surprisingly comfortable silence, his eyes never leaving me once. The door opened to reveal a taller guy holding a stack of papers, handing them directly to officer Sturniolo before he exited the room. 

He slides them across the table with a pen, gesturing for me to sign. I quickly scanned the pages, making sure the deal was what I wanted exactly, before carefully signing. 

“How much is the fine?” I ask him, sliding the papers back to him. 

He picks them up, “With the amount of drugs you had, you got lucky and only have to pay $500.” He explains quickly, leaning across the table to unlock my handcuffs. “Probation for about 6 months given our little deal holds up, will roughly be a thousand bucks. You have until your probation is up to pay all of the fines, or your probation will be extended and face possible jail time. And our deal would be invalid.” 

I nod in understanding, watching as he slides me a blank piece of paper, “Write down the name, I’ll ask a few questions and then I’ll send you on your way.” He explains, watching me closely as I pick up the pen. I write the name down quickly, letting out a huff of air once I have finished. 

He reads it, letting a scoff past his lips, “Damien Cross?” He asks with an eyebrow raised. 

“Yeah, he hangs around campus a lot and is kinda known to have whatever party favor you could be looking for.” I shrug, I might be telling the truth but the way he’s looking at me makes me feel like a dirty liar. 

“How’d you meet him?” I frown as I realize I never even had a proper meeting with him, just kinda walked up to him and asked for the drugs. 

We were interrupted by another officer bursting into the room, “Matt, we need the room.” The cop huffed, seeming to be out of breath. 

Matt nods, coming to a stand, “We can finish this at my desk.” I nod before following him out of the room. Several officers are barreling down the hallway, a woman screaming somewhere within the group of men. My stomach sinks as I finally see her, all battered and bruised as they shove her into the room I was just in. 

“Holy shit.” I mutter to myself, putting a pep in my step and nearly walking into Matt’s back as he came to an abrupt stop. He turned his head, looking behind me before he resumed walking. I stick close to him, in fear of being swept up into something horrible. 

Matt leads me to a desk tucked into the corner of the room, pulling up a chair from the desk next to his, having me take a seat. 

For the next hour we spent talking about Damien, him taking a few notes here and there. I nearly squeal as a woman approaches us with a bag containing my belongings, instantly snatching it out of her hands. Matt gives me a funny look as I instantly stand, glancing around the room. 

“Where can I change?” I ask, turning back to Matt once I can’t find the bathroom on my own. 

“I’ll walk you.” He sighs, before he leads me out of the office side of the building, and towards the front. He stops in front of the bathrooms, opening the door for me. I step inside, closing and locking the door behind me. 

I peel off the horrible jumpsuit they had made me change into last night, slipping on my black mini skirt. I slide my arms through my tank top before I put on the belt, then finally my shoes. I gather the jail’s clothes, double checking my hair and makeup before opening the door. 

“Do I throw these away?” I asked Matt, who was without a doubt checking me out. I pop out my hip, slightly tilting my head. A grin graces my lips as his eyes shoot up to mine, a light blush dancing across his cheeks. 

He takes them from my grasp, his fingertips gently brushing against mine. Shocks shoot through my skin, but I wave it off as finding comfort with physical touch after the night I had. He walks me to the front door, stopping me before I make my escape. 

“I’ll be at your apartment at 9 AM tomorrow morning, for the first and hopefully only home visit.” He speaks lowly, peering down at me. 

“Huh?” I ask, genuinely confused. 

A slight smirk takes over his features, “I’m your probation officer, Y/N.”