#I think its the muscles and their coddling

[snail-day]

No thoughts. Just the overwhelming, helpless need to bite Nanami.

You tell your husband, slowly, blinking up at him with big, pleading eyes as you mumble, “I just… wanna bite you.” And bless his heart, he tries his best to understand. Even if he’s still reeling from the time you whispered with complete sincerity that you wanted to breed him. He’s learned to roll with it.

“Love bites?” he guesses, voice warm and patient. Raising a brow. “You want to leave marks on me?”

You nod, but it’s not as sultry as he expects, a bit too eager. Needy. As if you’re trying not to cry from the sheer ache of wanting to sink your teeth into your husband’s arm.

He leans back on the couch and tilts his head to expose his neck, eyes closing with a soft smile. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Just keep it where I can hide it.”

Except… you don’t go for his neck.

No. You lean forward, trembling with giddy affection, and bite into his arm. A little too hard. Right into that strong, muscular bicep. He grunts in surprise. Opens one eye.

You do it again.

Then a nip to his pec. A soft little mouthing to his chest. Your fingers curl against his shirt, face flushed and dazed, you’re not even aware of how weird you’re being, you just need to bite. To mark. To feel him against your teeth, your mouth, your everything.

And all he can do is blink down at you, completely astonished. His sweet wife is a feral thing with no concept of restraint. And she’s currently gnawing on him like a chew toy.

But the moment you’re done, you just melt. Press your face against the chest you bit a million times, letting out a tiny sigh, voice muffled as you whisper, “Thank you… I feel better now.”

He should probably be concerned. Instead, he gently strokes your hair, kisses your forehead, and tucks you into his chest, putting all concerns into a folder in the back of his mind.

"I'm glad you got that out of your system, must've been very hard,” he whispers with a smile. Running his fingers through your hair. He doesn't really understand your feral habits. But he's growing to love them as much as he loves you.

[xiaberryy]

“Pip-squeak..” Caleb cooed softly, warm large hand sneaking quietly to rest atop of her thigh. his calloused palm sent shivers down her spine, rushing blood to her soft cheeks.

steady, observant gaze relentlessly conveyed fondness and understanding. meanwhile, the object of his attention was stubbornly looking away with jutted out lips.

Caleb let out a soft chuckle before he gently wrapped his arm around her waist. in a swift movement, she found herself sat on his lap.

“Caleb, you—!” her protests died down in front of Caleb’s teasing and satisfied grin.

with easy familiarity, he ruffled the crown of her head, “finally feeling like talking to me, princess?”

her eyebrows twitched. creases formed on her forehead owing to how hard she was frowning, “don’t think you can princess me and get away with everything, Caleb.”

the rapid thumping inside her ribs betrayed her words. she absolutely knew how embarrassingly easy she crumbles at mere crumbs of his affection.

Caleb smiled apologetically. his hand which still has receptors sensitive enough to feel her skin, rubbed her arm.

“i’m all yours now, princess. i promise no more impromptu fleet businesses that takes me away from my sweet girl,”

she stayed silent, lips jutted out further as she fidgeted with the hands she rested on her lap. a few seconds passed by and she hasn’t made an effort to move the muscles of her mouth to speak.

Caleb began to worry. he worried that this time he might’ve done an irreparable damage to the fragile little heart of this girl he’s coddled since childhood.

“Pip—“ his words got caught in his throat when fat blobs of tears trickled down her reddened cheeks.

“hic..stupid Caleb..” choked sobs escaped her. those sounds formed into arrows that shot him right in the heart. guilt consumed him. however, the pain of guilt wasn’t the only cause of his erratic heartbeat.

he swallowed his saliva. his hands trembled slightly before pulling her into his arms.

“you’re right, i’m stupid. i’m a big dummy that left my princess all alone. you were lonely, weren’t you, pretty girl?“ he cooed softly as he tightened the embrace he had her in.

his head was spinning. the girl sobbing in his arms was too adorable with those watery eyes, tear stricken face, and wet eyelashes. he knows it’s fucked up to make his beloved cry and enjoy it so much, but who could blame him when she’s such a pretty crier?

“Caleb is so sorry, hm? you can hit him if you want, princess,” he guided her hand to his chest.

however, instead of hitting him, she cried harder. “don’t wanna! why would i hurt you? you’re so annoying!!” screamed her while she snatched her hand away from his momentarily loose grip.

he forcefully tucked his lips in to stop himself from grinning like a maniac. she loves him enough to refuse hurting him even after the pain and loneliness he put her through? what a sweetheart.

abruptly, he stood up and carried her in his arms. a loud yelp left her as she immediately latched onto his neck for support.

“what the hell are you doing?!” she tried her best to glare at him despite the tears clouding her vision.

Caleb grinned, “you used to love being carried around. you’d always calm down when i rock you in my arms like this,” said him as he began rocking her like a baby and spinning her around.

a loud, high-pitched squeal left her when he began spinning around faster, “Caleb, put me down!”

her yells and his laughter blended together that evening. the windows of his current house is larger than the ones in their old house. the orange sun rays which casted its warm glow across the house interior was brighter, being on a floating island nearer to the sky and all. the person in his arms has now matured, only the familiar warmth in his chest remained unchanged. so, he’ll bask in the feeling of being 12, holding 10 year old her in his embrace again.

[andypantsx3]

contents: general bakugou x princess reader; 1.1k, fem reader. lowkey dedicated to the loml @ofmermaidstories even tho there's e2l undertones.

thinking about being a princess forced into a political marriage. your father is ailing and with no sons in his lineage, your country risks dissolution and open war if you do not marry.

already several of the more prominent families are forming factions; those with eligible sons are desperately trying to engineer opportunities for themselves, those without are amassing foot soldiers and weapons.

you cannot stand any of the pompous, greedy, egocentric princelings put forth by the noble families; men who care nothing for the country or its people, men with no thought for policy or justice—men who would gorge themselves on wine and women as the country crumbled at their feet.

even with a husband, there is no guarantee against a coup, not unless your husband is formidable enough to suppress one.

there is only one man you can stomach the thought of assuming the throne, one man with a head for strategy, a sense of duty, and a reputation strong enough to suppress the growing threat of political discord.

you find general bakugou katsuki in his quarters in the small hours of the morning, unable to sleep for your nerves.

"princess," he rasps, opening the door in nothing but his breeches. your face burns as you're confronted with the sight of a man's naked chest, miles of bare skin, golden in the glow of the torch lights.

"general," you say, resolutely raising your eyes to his face. there is no time to dance around the issue. "i need you to marry me."

bakugou's blonde hair is bed-rumpled, his manner sleep-soft, though his gaze is sharp. he watches you for a long moment before answering.

"'s an awful unromantic proposal," he says, an eyebrow raising.

despite his honorability, he's always had a way of grating on your nerves, and he knows it. you can't stop the reflexive scowl that paints your mouth, nor the irritability that seeps into your tone.

"i am being serious," you say, crossing your arms.

bakugou's eyes follow the movement. you are suddenly all too aware that you've marched through the castle halls in nothing but your night rail, too overcome with the thought of what must be done to pay the appropriate attention to your wardrobe.

"what, you lookin' to consummate it now?" he asks, gaze almost burning through the thin cotton of your shift.

your ears go hot. "can you stop being the most obnoxious man on earth for one moment."

bakugou leans an arm against his open door, bicep flexing with the movement. you try valiantly not to notice the way the shadows pool in the divots of his muscle, the way his trousers sit against the plane of his toned stomach.

"if you want me to say yes, you're gonna need to be a little nicer, princess," he says, mouth flicking into an awful little smirk.

"general—bakugou," you hiss. "do you want to watch the country you've spent years defending dissolve into nothing at the hands of these narcissistic, coddled fools?"

"rich words for a princess," bakugou says, his voice nearly a growl in the dim.

you are aware that you are sheltered as a royal. you are aware you are soft and naive. but you are educated, you are strong-willed, and you care. you may not be a son to your father, but you know you know have studied harder than any man on your father's court. you want to do your best for this country.

"do not mock me," you command.

bakugou's scarlet gaze trails over you, hot and liquid in the flickering torchlight.

"no? then what d'you want me to do to you?" he asks.

you fight down the furious flush of humiliation. "i want you," you repeat through gritted teeth, "to marry me."

bakugou's golden eyelashes dip as his gaze slides back over your crossed arms, then lower, all the way down to your bare toes. you feel horribly vulnerable under his scrutiny, even more knowing you are already at his mercy.

"you're serious," he rasps, eyes cutting back to yours.

"unfortunately," you grit out.

that draws another flicker of a smirk out of him. "and y'came running down here at midnight in your little nightdress because you were too scared you'd chicken out, is that it?"

that is absolutely it, and you hate that he knows it.

"will you marry me or not?" you demand, even your nose feeling hot now. "i don't know what my nightdress has to do with the question!"

"your nightdress is gonna have a lot to do with it if i say yes, angel," bakugou says.

you hate him. maybe it's better to just let the country fall to ruin, let some jumped up coalition of families amass power and overwhelm bakugou and his soldiers. with any luck maybe they will stab him.

you'll have to come up with another plan.

"fine," you hiss, turning on your heel. "message received."

but a hot hand closes on your arm before you can take another step, yanking you back to him. you stumble, barely catching yourself before bashing your nose into his chest.

"you know what you're asking for?" bakugou demands, leaning in to look into your face. "you know this wouldn't be easy."

"i know," you say begrudgingly. "but you are the country's best option—my best option. none of the men put forth are acceptable."

"don't like pretty boys, princess?" bakugou asks.

"you're plenty pretty," you bite out before you can think. horror overwhelms you when bakugou's smirk grows wider, a sharp white knife in the dark.

"think i'm pretty huh?" he says, his tone gloating.

"i think that you are awful and maybe i'd rather take my chances with a coup," you growl, trying to pry your arm from his grip.

but bakugou's hold tightens for a moment, and he leans down, close enough that his breath ghosts over the collar of your night rail.

"then if you're sure this is what you want, princess, you can have it," bakugou says. his thumb smoothes over the skin of your arm for just a moment, soft and feather light before he lets you go.

you step out of his reach, skin tingling, face flaming. there's no reason to delay, then. "fine, we're agreed. i'll see you in the morning. we'll announce it then."

you spin on your heel, bakugou's grunt of acceptance following you as turn back down the hall.

"see you in the morning, angel," he drawls, suddenly all agreement.

he may be the general between the two of you, but you know when it's time for a strategic retreat. you ignore his response and flee—your ears burning all the way to your chambers.

[asumi2020202]

Only if you're the mother ey?

Pairing: Kinich x Reader

Summary: You and your lover were on a walk. Upon returning home, a little someone follows.

A/n: Natlan is out people. I suddenly got the idea to write this. Thank you for reading!

Note: Kinich - • , Ajaw - •

___________________________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ______

"Well she's lucky the injury wasn't grave. Otherwise her sister would've swallowed her whole."

"Chasca can sometimes be pretty reckless."

"Hmm. What did you and Ajaw do today?"

"Nothing much for me. Just helped around the village. He bothered as usual."

You and Kinich walked around some more, Ajaw complaining about Kinich ignoring him.

The three of you didn't know when it has gotten so late. Upon realisation, the three of you made your way back to your shared home.

_________________________________________

Kinich was finding the key to open the door of your and Kinich's house, when you felt a little paw on your shin muscles and heard a soft mewl.

You turned around to see a little baby yumkasaur. It had a sad expression on its face, probably because it went unnoticed by you both all the way here.

You crouched down and the little one went between your legs and snuggled to you, his expression changing in an instant.

By this time Kinich had opened the door and turned around, only to find your back facing him and you crouching down.

When he came to you, thinking you were hurt or sick, he saw you look up at him with a baby yumkasaur coddled up on your chest.

"I think he followed us all the way here." You spoke, turning your gaze back at the yumkasaur and gently soothing its back.

"That is unusual for a yumkasaur. Unless..." Kinich spoke the last word with suspense.

"Unless what?" You asked, looking at his face.

"Unless he thinks of you as his mother, which in this case, fits perfectly." Kinich spoke, letting out a small laugh at your surprised expression.

Your turned you gaze back at the yumkasaur and stood up with him, still in your hands, coddled up.

"Well.. I guess you're the father then?" You spoke and smirked at him.

"Only if you're the mother." Kinich replied and kissed your cheek while getting you all inside the house.

You settled on the couch with the little one, a blanket draped over you both.

You fell asleep soon enough. The little yumkasaur was staring at Kinich, who was sitting on the same couch, and occasionally let out some noises to him.

"You've got some rizz! Haha!" Ajaw spoke as Kinich asked him to quite down. But the Almighty Dragonlord went on and on.

"Only if you're the mother ey?"

[xazse]

I LOVE YOUR HYBRID WRITINGS SO MUCH IM GONNA NUT💦

I KEEP THINKING ABOUT MEAN TOJI X PUPPYHYBRID!READER 🤤

He's so mean to puppyhybrid!reader whenever she's in heat or is just horny:(( but he coos and sooths/apologizes to reader after (sweet aftercare 🥹) Toji would be so mean to reader because he's always horny around reader but instead of feeling guilty about it, he tries to make the reader feel bad for being needy,,.. that's what I thought of rn 🤯🤯

TY FOR REQUEST GLAD YOU ENJOY MY WRITING<333 I LOVE TOJI

Toji doesn’t consider himself to be a mean man, he considers himself to be a hard type, not the ones who constantly berate those around them but discipline and offer words of encouragement to get them on the right path. Why is that completely thrown out the window when interacting with you? He’s realized it during your third heat but he has quite the mean temper on him when you’re being extra needy.

It’s impossible for you to be held responsible when ur grinding down on him in one of ur lusty moods, yes his cock is hard and absolutely he wants to fuck you through this couch but why not mess with you? Within five minutes he’s calling you a greedy little thing, always taking what you want instead of asking.

He makes fun of how wet your panties are just from merely grinding, he knows he’s getting to you by the way you slow down your hips and look up at him with the most pitiful expression hes ever seen, he doesn’t feel bad that just spurs him on. He teases you to keep going because he knows you don’t want to stop until you’ve satisfied that greedy pup in you.

He laughs so crudely when you actually do keep moving agaisnt his thigh, your wet pussy gliding on his muscled thigh, it feels too fucking good and he knows it, every bump of your clit sends a thrill through your body, its magnified a tenthfold because of the on-slaughter of your heat.

He makes sure you don’t see or feel his cock, you can’t know how he’s actually going insane, he needs you to be the only one being so desperate.

He tells you to hurry it up because he has work to do.

You finally slip over that edge with a loud howl and within that same breath the waterworks start up, he brings you to his chest and begins to coddle you, remarking how he was just joking knowing later that night he’s gonna do it all over again but actually bury his cock in you for that extra flare.

[genderfluid-insomniac]

A little monkey told me that your requests are back! I was wondering if you could do a scenario based on this scene from bee and puppy cat with sun wukong? https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeWd1d92/

Maybe he's teasing a monkey after it accidentally broke one of the reader's things, then once the monkey starts crying the reader swoops it up and coddles it reassuring that they still love the monkey whilst glaring angrily and sun wukong?

Wukong “bullying” a baby monkey for breaking something of yours

A/N: This scenario is based on the TikTok here from Bee and Puppy Cat

You and Wukong were down by the orchards relaxing on a sunny lazy day on Flower Fruit Mountain and the other white monkeys played in the grass happily, wrestling and chasing one another around the trees. You got up from your comfy spot next to your boyfriend and stretched out your tense muscles, hearing popping and cracking noises from your joints. “I’m going to go grab my jacket. It’s getting a bit breezy,” you said and jogged off nearby after putting your book down.

“Alright. I don’t think it’s cold though.” Wukong said and muttered the last part to himself. Maybe it was because he had fur but it was pretty warm out. He looked up at the sun and squinted so he didn’t blind himself, out of the corner of his eyes he saw one of the more curious monkeys scampering over to your book. The tiny monkey lifted the book up with both of their hands before putting it back down and tugging on a page; seemingly to test its strength and unfortunately scaring itself when the piece of paper ripped. Wukong of course, never one to let a teasing moment pass by him, dramatically gasped and put a hand over his mouth.

“Oh no! Name is going to be so mad when she comes back! You broke her book. She’s not going to love you anymore and I’ll be her favorite.” he said in fake concern and frowned then grinning. The small white monkey dropped the page immediately and looked around, chirping nervously and tearing up. He felt a tiny bit bad when he saw wasn’t working out quite as comically as he hoped and groaned when he felt someone smack the back of his head.

Lo and behold you had come back and heard the tail end of what he said, scoffing when your boyfriend pouted because of what you did and watching you scoop up the tiny anxious monkey. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad at all I know it was an accident and you were just curious. I still love you. Your king played a cruel joke on you.” you said, glaring at Wukong as you said the last part and snuggled the little guy. Wukong was not happy and now felt more guilty; it got worse when you took away his cuddling privileges for a day.

[scribblestatic]

*checks the notes*

Oh, this one's a banger, I see. Well, let's continue it then.

Part 1 here

---

Shen Yuan inherits Shen Jiu's somewhat broken cultivation base. However, he's got different stressors, and the heart demons don't hit the same. So, surprise surprise, he's able to bring out some of Shen Jiu's cultivation in ways the OG couldn't.

For example, it takes a bit, but Shen Yuan learns the very delicate method of using qi to turn pages. Which, honestly, he didn't think was particularly impressive, but Luo Binghe recognizes it for the absolute skill it is.

Since Shen Yuan confessed to growing up in a world without qi or cultivation that he was aware of, he'd never felt qi before. Yet, within a few weeks of being in his world (after Luo Binghe carefully fed him until his hair stopped breaking off and his ribs stopped showing), he was doing the very delicate work of minute movements with qi.

Shen Yuan's also learning how to write with ink and qi, using the qi to move the brush around. His writing is...incredibly sloppy at first, but the more he practices, the better he gets. It's even legible now, and very slowly easing its way into being elegant!

Other movements, like catching water pitchers before they fall and carefully moving a cup to his mouth are a tad more difficult, especially the heavier the object is. Like muscles that haven't been moved in a while, he has to work to improve, and he throws himself wholeheartedly into it. Even if he's sweating from exertion, he keeps it up until he gives himself a migraine and has to be coddled for a while after.

That said, he can't move himself around. As in, Shen Yuan cannot use his qi to float quite yet. So, in theory, he should have an attendant to carry him around.

However, Luo Binghe is also loathe to let anyone else move him. So, of course, that means Shen Yuan spends almost all of his waking hours by the Demon Emperor's side.

At first, Luo Binghe barely let him leave the room, too anxious about losing his 'nice shizun' to someone else's machinations when they just started getting to know each other more (knowing each other in ways he never got to with many of his wives). And, well, he won't lie. He likes being the one A'Yuan relies on the most for his daily care, even if he does feel regret while using his blood mites to fend off his many little pains all over his body as he heals.

When some of the more vindictive wives see Shen Yuan as a threat to their position, they start trying to send little assassins in Luo Binghe's absence, but he's super safe in Binghe's quarters, able to wiggle around on his bed or fall on soft pillows if he manages to roll off the mattress and onto the floor. Every bit of food that enters his room is heavily regulated, and his walls are warded up to the nines.

After the first three wives face execution, the assassination attempts petter off. They reduce further once Luo Binghe starts carrying Shen Yuan around.

Shen Yuan's robes are made with full legs and arms in mind, so a good bit of them remain floppy and unfilled by any limbs. However, they fit his torso, what remains of his limbs, and his quite lovely face nicely. Moreover, Luo Binghe always carries Shen Yuan like he's precious despite the disability he forced on his body. When he has to set him down, it's always on a soft pillow seat...or his lap, as they get to know each other further.

After all, while Shen Yuan did think himself straight, he could admit that Luo Binghe was beyond the limitations of gender attraction. Of course Binghe was more handsome than anyone else in the world, even when he wasn't at his healthiest. As he grows healthier, it's like the man's practically glowing! How could he not be attracted to that, ha? He's only half blind!

As far as Luo Binghe being attracted to him though, well, that takes some time to convince him. After all, he doesn't see himself as very attractive.

For one, he's a man. But, well, Luo Binghe expressed that he didn't really mind men. It just so happened so many of those he encountered and married were women. Men weren't off the table. And, well...Binghe would know himself more than Shen Yuan would know him, right? Because, well, things are so different and events he never witnessed from the book happened, like finding the 'nice shizun' in the first place. So...perhaps a few other things are different than expected? And, well, congrats, men! They're also viable for Binghe! They can rejoice! He absolutely didn't feel a skip in his heartbeat at that realization!

For two, though, he's in the body of one of Binghe's main abusers. Him not being Shen Jiu wouldn't change that (because he's not Shen Jiu, he knows it...right? Those dreams were just memories to update him on the situation. He didn't do those terrible things to Binghe, and if he did, then, shit, he did deserve to awaken in this torn-up wreck of a body--). Surely he couldn't be attracted to him because of that.

However, when Binghe looks at him and says the way he carries himself is so different, he doesn't see his old shizun in him, that does make him feel a bit fluffy.

And, for three...uhm...ugh... There's supposed to be a third point, surely! They just... He's not a good match! Yes, that's it. He's not a good match for Luo Binghe. He's not particularly powerful, beautiful, or smart. In fact, he can be quite lazy and indecisive, just wanting to read books all day! Yes, he helps Luo Binghe with his work, but that's just a given to help Binghe when he asks for it!

Even if it kinda puts him on the spot sometimes!

"How do you think I should punish him, Shizun?"

The 'him' in question is a cultivator from one of the lingering sects, one who attempted to use the terrible, scalding venom of a Carapaced Scorpion Buffalo to kill one of Binghe's advisors or something of the sort. Shen Yuan hummed a little as he thought.

He was in the body of a cultivator, so surely one would expect him to request mercy for the person. But it's not like Shen Yuan knows who the guy is. Moreover, that poison could've ended up in one of the wives' drinks, or even Binghe's! Although he could heal from it, having a scalded throat for any period of time would be quite terrible.

"Well, he brought the Carapaced Scorpion Buffalo venom to poison someone's drink. Then, if we were to tie him with immortal binding cables, he would be able to experience what he almost forced on someone else, right? Ah, though, let's not cut off his cultivation completely. Though he'll heal slowly, he should be fine in the end."

Of course, Shen Yuan doesn't know the sort of image he makes, sitting on a smaller throne next to Luo Binghe's his seat less ornate but just as elegant and powerful as the Demon Emperor's. Although his limbs don't move, he's using his qi to move a fan and fan himself a tad stiltedly, but considering such oscillating movements are difficult for many cultivators, it's still a show of his increasing expertise.

Despite his clearly maimed form, he didn't hesitate to suggest it as a punishment, though Luo Binghe didn't tell him that the very person the cultivator was trying to poison had been him, presumably out of pity for his condition.

Luo Binghe grins from ear to ear.

"What a wonderful suggestion, Shizun. I think that's perfect."

I think, after a few more incidents and relying on A'Yuan's judgement for certain issues, receiving positive results, he decides to officially marry him. Which, yeah, that really shocked Shen Yuan...but...well.

He can't very well deny Binghe what he wants when he can reasonably give it, can he? Besides, if Binghe wants him despite everything...

Stop that, heart. Stop feeling so swollen with love and affection. His face is too thin for such emotions.

---

I think I'll actually talk about the crowning ceremony if I continue this, cause, like, I am thinking about how fuckin enraged Yue Qingyuan would be upon hearing that Shen Jiu was being named Luo Binghe's empress. Because, surely he couldn't have agreed to that of his own free will.

Yes, it was about time for Cang Qiong Mountain Sect to be more adamant about retrieving Shen Qingqiu, isn't it? They had become stable enough now after the merging of the three realms. Although they suffered many casualties, getting him back would, at the very least, ease their anxieties over how he's being treated.

He has suffered enough. To be made into a fool as some ridiculous ploy to humiliate him... Enough is enough.

---

Part 1 Part 2: here Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11+: links on Part 10

AO3

[anisangeldust]

Pretty when you cry 𝜗𝜚⋆

Summary: feelings are hard.

Pairing: young politician!Coriolanus x Fem!reader

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Coriolanus is stressed and needs you, emotional vulnerability, mentions of parental loss, crying.

A/N: just some heart-achy fluff bc I’m in the mood to coddle someone rn🎀

Masculinity and Bravado were drilled into the brain of Panems president since the day he was born, festering like an infection, multiplying like an invasion, until all he could feel was shame for feeling.

So often he’d find himself teary eyed, chanting soliloquies of “Men don’t cry, you aren’t weak, crying makes you weak.” like mantras around his apartment, such nonsense that those superior used to undermine his naturally empathetic soul.

It wasn’t until many moons later that he crossed your sacred path, your mere presence a soothing compress on his aching heart. Little by little, you cleared his night skies from its once insurmountable peril, the darkness that had consumed his soul was no longer seeping through his core, instead it soaked through his eyes, salty drops of crystalline water flowing down his milky cheeks.

At the moment, he was being comforted by his ever so generous and loving wife. The emotions he buried so desperately were now flowing like a river in front of his own personal Aphrodite, a tsunami of emotions flooding his soul, lapping at the weak spots of his delicate being. Never would anyone describe Coriolanus Snow as vulnerable, but right now he was. Your tenderness akin to the mother he lost so long ago, and his trembling frame that of a little boy. This is love in its rawest form, the ability to express vulnerability without judgement, the thing Coriolanus so clearly craved his whole adolescence.

Heaven was breaking down in your arms, having a rough day and coming home to you, the woman he loved with every ounce of his being, to have you hold his face and tell him it was all going to be okay; your murmured words like a warm compress on his aching heart.

So often he reminded himself that he was allowed to have bad days, being president was draining, and the cracks in his mask were deepening, he could no longer hide from the flood, he had to just make sure he didn’t drown. Luckily you were his life boat. Despite all his hard work, sometimes the darkness prevails, dawning cloaks of false serendipity, only to shed its light and consume your dignity. The darkness that clouds his vision, creeps into the corners of his mind, dampens his thinking, the darkness only you can cut through. He beam of light, his saving grace.

Coriolanus was a blubbering mess, your fingers running in his platinum curls a reminder that he was safe, that he was going to be okay. Slowly, he lifted his head from your chest and sniffled.

“I don’t deserve you..” he murmured, eyes red and puffy from crying so hard.

“Shhh, just lay on me baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you” you cooed, pressing his face back into the soft fat of your chest. As to which he happily complied.

The muscles of his shirtless back were relaxed, melting into you and your warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around your middle and hugged you like you were going to disappear if he let go, you were his most precious gem, a beauty unmatched by the most divine beings, a goddess amongst men, and Coriolanus was your most devoted apostle.

Slowly, his breathing regained stability, his pink lips no longer quivering, chest no longer heaving. You peppered his teary cheeks with kisses as he calmed down slowly. His mind slipping form consciousness as he fell asleep.

“I love you” he croaked gently, voice rough and tone uneven, the most vulnerable state Coriolanus Snow could be in, the one reserved for you.

“I love you too baby boy, so much. Now sleep, it’ll all be okay” you mutter as he flutters his eyes closed and lays on you completely, your own personal weighted blanket.

Coriolanus was truly sculpted by the gods, how else would he be so pretty when he cries?

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

Something something something husband Nikto with boyfriend König who have a strained relationship cause they were fuck buddies years ago long before you.

Tags: Nsfw Nikto/König/Reader, sub! König, reader doesn't fuck but they do. Possessive/obsessive Nikto,Reader. Very much bottom König getting railed by Nikto for like a paragraph. He's a slut officer. Established relationship. Also some perverted reader and König in here. Just a smidge.

It was all messy and all ways fucked up and bloody before you came into the picture. Meeting and marrying you was one of nikto's only right decision in his all wrong life. Such a sweet precious thing, full of life and the irregularities of humanity in all the wonderful ways.

Sure dating one of your ex team/coworkers wasn't the best idea but eh. You were too good to pass up. König thought so too.

"Schatz, date at the 14th?"

"Hmm, sure, I'll ask my husband."

"What."

The poor man didn't even know the two of you were married before then because Nikto keeps his private life separate. Speaking of, the colonel finds himself thinking about the shorter brute more and more after their little...situation. Wonder why that may be?

And so he arrives at the house with two bouquets of flower. It would be rude if he only brought one right? His Oma always said if he was to find a partner he would get at least five flowers, she didn't mention what would happen if he was attracted to two people. That were married at that.

The door opening with a click as Nikto greets him first, a white tanktop and some shorts. It's all casual and all so much- He didn't even get to knock please have mercy-

He's leading him inside without any words. All silent outside yet loud inside as König internally cums over seeing some of Nikto's skin, all scarred and gott he just wants to run his tongue over those scars again please-

"So, you want my spouse too hm?", and it all comes to a pause. Hands purposefully hiding the flowers.

"Yes, sir.", Nikto used to love that, maybe he still does now, if not? even he's respectful in someone else's house.

"Prove to me you can be a good slut." Flowers turn forgotten on the kitchen table.

Their own lust reignited. Something domestic and new added in the mix of nostalgia as they find themselves another night together.

"ебать, just as tight as I remember."

"I hope our Liebling doesn't mind."

"ah, they are aware."

"Actually? Wait hold on shit- ngh- Schieß- right there-"

And he just takes it all. Every slap of hips against his sore, soft ass. Every spank Nikto delivers to his tight asshole and cheeks. Whining when a finger slips in, angled perfectly with the dick already splitting him open, moments before he comes with a loud grunt.

And he whimpers softly when Nikto overstimulates him, further milking and coating his prostate with teasing filling touches and their sin mixed throughout. The first to initiate and the first to pass out on the bed he doesn't recognize in the morning.

Hands and bodies he doesn't remember in the sunlight. Until he moves and a voice he remembers, every scene comes back to him like a train crash.

"You're awake, 'they' insisted you'd stay, you're welcome to."

And he's unused to the softness in nikto's tone. But he knows. He doesn't want to leave when you're in his arms and he's in yours. A man touch starved beforehand and now he's being held front and back its enough to make his heart nauseously full.

He's not allowed to leave either and he knows it too. The grip in Nikto's hands is unfamiliar but not unknown, something old he used to feel that only his muscle memorizes while he was asleep.

The sheets have been changed he's noticed, no longer the cum stained sheets he got ravaged on and passed out in. No doubt getting carried by the thicker man when he was out cold.

Surrounded front and back and a realization made. You're not theirs, he's yours and Nikto's. A realization that makes him whimper before he gets coddled by the two figures around him, hands already pawing at his tits and hips being shifted backwards. He's stuck with nowhere he'd rather be.

—

"So, how long have this been going on?"

"Three years." Some of Nikto's high quality coffee gets spiten out in pure surprise as said man gives off a loud breathy laugh.

"Am I intruding?"

"Not at all. We've been wanting a new pet."

××××××××××××××××××××××x x××××××××××××××××××××××

Ya boi did not proofread this have some fun looking at my grammatical mistakes.

[riddle-me-ri]

What do you think about btas Jonathan x an Arkham guard type reader. I like the idea of them meeting during the lock up episode. And the reader does what they can to protect Jonny, and the other inmates, from Lyle's cruelty.

a/n: awww this is such a cute and neat idea! I actually just re-watched that episode too, excellent timing anon!

Word Count: 1,215 (oops)

Content Warning: slight cursing, mistreatment of asylum inmates mentions (nothing out of what's mentioned in the show)

BTAS Scarecrow x Arkham Guard!Reader - Backup

You heard the jingle of cell keys and muffled groaning and hushed whimpers coming down the corridor.

You were stationed to monitor one of the asylum halls of criminally insane inmates– one of whom was missing, the Master of Fear, Jonathan Crane.

You were waiting for Batman and Robin to bring him in as per usual but were stunned to see Lyle Bolton, quite literally, dragging the ex-professor by the collar of his signature red costume.

The fear in Jonathan's eyes was enough to alert you something was wrong.

Swiftly, you got up from your desk and cut Lyle off before he made it to Crane's cell.

“I can take Professor Crane from her–Hey! The hell?”

Lyle ignored you and merely bumped his shoulder into you to move out of his way.

“Bolton!”

“What?!”

“I have to–”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever!”

The Scarecrow looked at you with pleading eyes as he continued to try and squirm out of Bolton's death grip.

Bolton pulls Jonathan up and brings the rogue face to face.

“I'll have to make an example out of you–to show the others what happens when you escape under MY SECURITY!”

“That is ENOUGH!” You grabbed the large man's shoulder to turn him around to face you instead of intimidating Crane.

The large hulk of a man sneered at you. Crane gasped as Bolton's grip somehow got tighter around his shirt, tiny little seams barely keeping the fabric in place.

Lyle unceremoniously dropped Jonathan onto the tile floor, and began stomping away, but not before he pointed an accusatory finger at you–

“Its your fault! You're coddling these maniacs that destroy our city! They don't deserve–”

“Bolton! One more word and so help me I will report your ass! Wouldn't want to tell Mr. Wayne that part of his Arkham Security grant went to a muscle bound brute with no self restraint and anger issues!”

Bolton clenched his teeth so hard that veins popped out of his neck-it's a miracle his eyes didn't pop out or his teeth sank deeper into his gums until they bled.

Until all of a sudden, like the flick of a light switch, Bolton just shook his head, fixed his tie, and wore a content smile.

He nodded with a chuckle. “I'd love to see how far you get with that–”

Bolton then briskly turned around and began walking out of the hallway.

Jonathan Crane didn't take one sigh of relief until he heard the large metal door to the stairway open and closed signifying the bully was truly gone.

You turn your attention to the Scarecrow who was still a heap on the floor.

“Professor Crane, are you okay?” You leaned down and offered a hand.

Jonathan looked up at you and your open hand, he hesitated for a beat before accepting your hand and lifting him up off the floor.

“I-I'm…” he took a gulp of air. “F-Fine now that he-he's gone…”

It unnerved you to see Jonathan so shaken. He was always the more stoic of the inmates. Always reading, kept to himself, polite at least to you when you gave him books or meals…

“C'mon, let's get you back to your cell…” You held his hand and let him walk alongside you to his cell.

“Y-You…stood up to him…f-for me…” Jonathan commented.

You took the keys off your belt hook and began flicking through the countless keys looking for the right one.

“Of course, criminal, mad-man, officer, guard…no one deserves to be treated that way…”

You unlocked the cell door and continued to help maneuver Jonathan to where he sat on his bed.

“There's a fresh uniform folded over there by your pillow…is there anything else you need?”

Jonathan shook his head.

“N-n-no…t-thank you, dear…”

Your eyebrows scrunched up in the middle in concern.

Your shift was about to be over in half an hour but the last thing you wanted to do was leave this hall. The moment you did, you knew Lyle was going to make a beeline for Crane.

“How long has this been going on, Professor?”

“Ever since he arrived…he immediately made his dominance known…he destroyed one of Isley's potted plants when she didn't return back to her cell in time…he stomped on Tetch's hat for the same thing…he threatened to burn one of my books…Even when we're obedient he makes our lives here…Hell…”

Guilt swelled up in the pit of your stomach. Bolton has been the head of security for a little over a year…how are you just now hearing about all this?

Now that you know, you knew you had to do something…

You put a hand on Jonathan's shoulder, the poor man flinched at first until he saw the hand belonging to you.

“Professor Crane, I promise I'll do whatever I can to help you and the others…” You checked your watch. “And I'll stay here through the night so you can get some sleep…if Bolton tries to come back he'll have to go through me first.”

For the first time, Jonathan's face seemed to light up with hope. “R-Really? Y-You would do that?”

You nodded. “Of course, get some rest…tomorrow I want to discuss with you and the other inmates and get a full detailed outline of events and present it to the board…I will take the complaints to Wayne if it comes down to it.”

Jonathan's eyes almost welled up with joyful tears–like finally seeing the sunlight after an eternity under a moonless night sky. You managed to give the Master of Fear hope.

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you my dear…you, you cannot even begin to imagine the relief that brings me! I will do whatever you need me to do!”

“I know, but for now, get some sleep…we'll discuss it more tomorrow…”

You stepped out of his cell and just before you shut the door to lock it, Crane grabbed your wrist, not aggressively but in a way that caused you to pause.

“T-Thank you…again…for earlier and staying…there are not enough words of gratitude that even comes close…”

You rested your other hand on top of his. “Its not a problem at all…just doing my job. Good night, Professor Crane–”

“Good night, my dear…”

After a beat and a small squeeze from Crane's hand, he let your hand go so you could close the cell door and lock it.

You took a deep breath as you began walking back to your desk at the end of the hall.

You already began taking notes of everything you saw and heard tonight to what little Jonathan told you.

Then the memory of Jonathan's face brightening up at you, the way the man looked at you like a spiritual savior…the way he squeezed your hand and even called you “dear” which was nothing new but you always found it endearing from him.

You shook your head. There was no way you were gonna get wrapped up in some forbidden romance, you just didn't like seeing someone getting mistreated…you would have felt just as distraught if it were any of the other Rogues.

However, you couldn't help but feel a little proud to know you protected the Master of Fear from any nightmares that night as he slept soundly a couple cells down…

[hellodaekko]

Shaw Pack headcanons bc :3 i wanna. A lot are of darlin bc i love them but i try my best to include more than that!!!!

Darlin is a couple years younger than The Boys(tm) so they were coddled a lot (most of it just annoying brotherly teasing more than coddling)

Milo and Darlin are cousins! Milo played the good kid around their parents growing up and it peeved them off so bad LMFAO

Asher was sooo a skater kid and Darlin definitely picked up skating because of him (as you can imagine, they had a knack for bruises and sprains trying to do tricks wayy out of their paygrade LOL)

Of the three boys, David was the most protective of Darlin so if they ever got hurt he was the one walking them back home

Milo’s growth spurt hit before any of the other boys, David was the last one to hit his (we all know how this plays out for them LOL)

When he was younger, David looked more like his mom than his dad, but as he got older he began to look more and more like Gabe

David has a freckle on his wrist that matched one his mother had

Milo and Marie are damn near identical but he has Colm’s eyes and it’s enough to tick him off on a bad day

Asher and his sister, Madelyn, have vitiligo. Asher’s reaches up all the way to his scalp so he’s got splotches of white hair from the lack of pigment

All of the listeners are a very good group of friends, but between the four, Babe and Angel are besties while Darlin and Sweetheart are besties

Look at me. The listeners flirt with each other all the time IDC argue with the wall!! Babe is more in the lane of cute, sweet compliments, Sweetheart is a step above that being a little more overt with pet names while Angel is like shameless about it. Darlin doesn’t usually initiate but whenever Angel cracks a joke about them looking good Darlin will start flexing their muscles very obviously and go “Who me? 💪🏽💪🏽” LMFAOOO

Sam is constantly bringing a small gift whenever he’s invited to someone’s home “Its the polite thing to do” he says

Angel knows how to cook just fine they just haaaaaaaate doing it. It stresses them out so badly because its a lot to focus on if it isn’t a simple recipe, and they usually move to make something to eat while they’re hungry instead of planning ahead for whatever meal of the day it is.

I like to think Gabe had a soft spot for Darlin when he was alive, he was pretty similar to how they were when he was younger

Sam doesn’t usually participate too much in the Mates group chat outside of confirming plans. The first time he sends a funny image the others lose their minds

Sam is a sucker for all kinds of animals and actively has to fight the instinct to bring one home with him. When he was a kid he loved looking around for bugs and occasionally he’ll record a video of him holding one and send them to Darlin

Babe grew up with reptiles as a kid! They want to get a snake but haven’t gotten around to it yet

Darlin was a crybaby as a kid but they always tried their best to contain it. Living embodiment of the ☹️ emoji from trying to bite back tears

After getting married, Angel’s knack for taking David’s work shirts/hoodies increases tenfold “its got my name on it now >:]”

Babe is a bit of a picky eater, Asher orders pizza so often that they’ve gotten sick of it but they won’t stop him from ordering anyway

Sweetheart will occasionally phase cloak through a hug to mess with Milo (the sensation freaks him out)

Gabe’s wolf form is almost pitch black with a white spot on his chest, his wife’s was a dark rusty color

Gabe and his generation of pack members were certainly big but the kids ended up much larger than any of them anticipated. Even Milo, who’s smaller than his peers ended up a little bigger than his parent’s forms.

Gabe ADORED Sweetheart, they got along like old friends. Sweetheart was the type to chat up their friend’s parents growing up to make a good impression (it stressed Milo out like no other to see his mate act buddy buddy with his Alpha of all people)

Darlin’s wolf form is riddled in scarred scratches and bite marks. Their lip and eyebrow are scarred, one of their ears was ripped to shreds, and their tail was damaged so badly most of it became necrotic and fell off, they’ve just got a little bobtail. After the inversion, David’s wolf form loses a good chunk of his ear opposite to Darlin’s. “We kinda match now lol”

Darlin’s first pack run after returning to Dahlia is cathartic for them. They stay outside in their wolf form for hours after the run.

Sam dyed his hair brown after running from Mont Blanc. He grows it out a little around the time he meets Alexis but goes back to brown after his turning. He’s now fully back to his dirty blond :]

Sam has a small photo of his grandmother on his nightstand with a small candle burning next to it. Darlin makes sure to light it for him if they’re awake before he is

Angel has a tattoo on their ankle for their cat from when they were still with Michael. Its of the M pattern on their cat’s forehead

Milo is the type to avoid a show or game if people bug him enough about starting it. He doesn’t even think he wouldn’t enjoy the contents, but it triggers something in him to be defiant about it unless Sweetheart sits him down to watch it

Darlin will steal bites off of the boys’ plates if they’re out eating with each other. Asher does it back with a smile, Milo will whine like a baby about it, and David will just smack their hand away (they just laugh when it happens)

Christian has a REALLY bad gag reflex. Asher will pretend to make a gagging sound to make Christian dry heave

[yoomiwrites]

Missing Ghost⁴

Summary: After losing her memory in a storm, a young Marine remembers only the name “Mihawk” and sets out to find him, convinced he holds the key to her past. As she sharpens her skills and follows his trail across countless ports, Mihawk is always just out of reach. Finally, she arrives at a port where his ship waits, knowing her answers are close.

Note: There we go. After long, long waiting you'll finally get the next chapter. On one hand, it's not like much happens, on the other hand, it's the start of the real journey. By the way, I splitted this chapter in two, for a better read-flow, so you can expect chapter 5 at the weekend. It's a bit longer than this one.

The warmth of the sun stirred me awake, the gentle rustling of leaves and distant cries of seabirds pulling me from unconsciousness. I blinked against the light, my body stiff from sleeping on the uneven ground.

And then it hit me.

He was gone.

I shot upright, eyes scanning the empty spot where Mihawk had sat the night before. There was no sign of him—no lingering presence, no farewell, not even a damn footprint. He had vanished as effortlessly as a ghost.

I clenched my fists, irritation bubbling up beneath my skin.

“Are you kidding me?” I hissed, kicking at a stray rock. He’d barely helped me. Hardly answered anything. And now he was gone, again, slipping through my fingers just like he had all those times before.

What had I expected? Mihawk wasn’t the type to coddle or explain. Sure, he knew me, and I knew of him—Dracule Mihawk, Warlord of the Sea, the greatest swordsman alive. His reputation spoke for itself.

But I needed more than his reputation. I needed answers.

I exhaled sharply, forcing down my frustration. If he wanted to disappear, fine. I had spent years chasing his shadow—I could do it again.

I scanned my surroundings, thinking. If he wanted to leave the island, he had to get to the coast. That gave me a direction. Without wasting another second, I broke into a run, my heart pounding as I weaved through the uneven terrain.

I was not losing him again.

The sea was close—I could smell the salt on the breeze, hear the distant roar of waves. I pushed forward, my pulse a steady drum in my ears. But before I could reach the coastline, something else caught my attention.

A splash.

I skidded to a halt, breath still heavy. The sound had come from somewhere nearby, just beyond a cluster of trees. I crept forward, brushing past the foliage until the source of the noise came into view.

A small lake, tucked away between jagged cliffs, its surface shimmering beneath the early sunlight. And in the water, up to his waist, was him.

Mihawk.

I froze, my breath catching.

The scene was almost surreal. His back was turned to me, muscles shifting beneath light skin as the water rippled around him. His dark hair, damp and slicked back, clung to the sharp angles of his face. He was quiet, still—only the occasional movement of his arms disturbing the surface as he ran his hands through his hair.

For a moment, I just stood there, my mind blank.

He bathed? Somehow, the idea of the world’s greatest swordsman doing something so... ordinary hadn’t crossed my mind. He always seemed untouchable, more myth than man.

I wasn’t sure how long I stared, but then his voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Do you enjoy being a voyeur, or is staring simply a hobby of yours?”

I stiffened, heat rising to my face. He hadn’t even turned around.

“You—” I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way my embarrassment burned. “You knew I was here?”

Mihawk let out a quiet, almost amused breath. “You’re hardly subtle.”

I clenched my teeth, stepping fully into view. “Well, excuse me for not expecting to find you half-naked in the middle of nowhere.”

He finally turned his head slightly, just enough for one golden eye to settle on me. His gaze flickered over me with mild interest, then back to the water as if my presence was no more concerning than the wind.

“You’re persistent,” he mused.

I crossed my arms. “You’re evasive.”

His lips twitched, not quite a smirk, but close. “And yet, here you are. Again.”

I glared at him. “Because you left without a word—again!”

Mihawk didn’t seem the least bit remorseful. He reached for the shore, retrieving a small cloth to wipe the water from his face before finally stepping out of the lake.

I quickly averted my gaze.

He took his time, as if entirely unaffected by my presence, before speaking again. “I told you before—I do not care about your search.”

My nails dug into my palms. “And I told you—I’m not stopping until I get answers.”

Mihawk sighed, utterly unfazed as he grabbed his coat, draping it over his shoulders. “Then you’re a fool.”

I looked back at him then, my jaw tightening. “Maybe. But if I was stupid enough to follow you before, what makes you think I’ll stop now?”

He studied me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he picked up his hat and placed it back onto his head.

“Tch.” He scoffed, his voice barely above a murmur. “Still just as stubborn.”

And with that, he turned and started walking away—leaving me once again to chase after him.

The sun had climbed higher, casting long shadows as we walked. Mihawk led the way, silent as ever, his strides slow but purposeful. I followed a few steps behind, my frustration mounting with every second that passed.

He wasn’t talking. At all.

I’d tried everything—demanding, reasoning, even outright pestering—but he refused to give me a single answer. He didn’t acknowledge me, didn’t even glance in my direction. It was as if I was nothing more than an insect buzzing in his ear, and judging by the slight furrow in his brow, that was exactly how he saw me.

But I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“So, if I was a Marine, was I any good?” I asked, trying again.

No response.

“I mean, considering you keep calling me clumsy, I’m guessing not.”

Still nothing.

I let out a sharp breath. “You could at least tell me why I was following you.”

Silence.

“Did I annoy you back then too?”

His brow twitched.

I smirked. “Ah. I did, didn’t I?”

Mihawk came to a sudden stop.

The air between us shifted, the weight of his presence pressing down like a blade against my throat. Slowly, he turned, his golden eyes locking onto mine with a sharp, unwavering intensity.

“If you say one more word,” he said, his voice quiet but laced with something razor-sharp, “I will kill you here and now, and end this foolish journey.”

The wind stilled. My breath caught.

A normal person would have felt fear—should have felt fear. But as I stood there, staring up at him, I felt nothing of the sort. Instead, I tilted my head, considering him for a long moment. Then, before I could think better of it, I spoke.

“You won’t.”

His gaze darkened. “What?”

I shrugged, completely unbothered. “You won’t kill me.”

The irritation in his expression wavered, just for a fraction of a second. “And why is that?”

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders as I looked him dead in the eye. “Dunno,” I admitted. “Just a feeling.”

For the first time since I met him, Mihawk looked genuinely taken aback. It was subtle—barely a shift in his expression—but it was there. A flicker of something uncertain, as if my words had caught him completely off guard. His lips parted slightly, as if to respond, but then he stopped himself. He studied me for a long, unreadable moment before scoffing quietly, turning away without another word. And just like that, he started walking again.

Since Mihawk refused to give me any answers, I resorted to watching him instead.

Everything about him seemed refined. His clothes looked expensive, classy—fitting for someone of his reputation. But they weren’t perfect. Here and there, I caught small signs of wear: a tiny tear in the fabric, faint traces of dirt from travel, seams that had been mended with careful, practical stitching. His appearance was well-kept—his beard neatly trimmed, his hair in place—but when my gaze drifted to his hands, I noticed the difference.

His fingers looked slightly dry, his palms rough with calluses. Not just a few, but the kind that only came from years of wielding a blade. The kind that never truly faded. He carried himself like a noble, like someone who belonged to a world far above my own, yet his body told a different story. A story of discipline. Of battle. Of survival.

And then there was his build. He was tall—easily towering over me—but not as broad as I had imagined. He wasn’t bulky, wasn’t packed with overwhelming muscle. No, his strength was something else entirely. Precise. Controlled. The kind that didn’t need to be flaunted to be dangerous.

I didn’t know why, but for some reason, that realization sent a strange tug through my chest. Mihawk was nothing like I expected. And yet, somehow, I felt like I had always known him.

His gaze shifted toward me.

I froze, feeling suddenly caught under his sharp, golden eyes. I looked away instinctively, but I could still feel his stare lingering, unwavering.

“…Do I look different?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could second-guess them.

For the first time, he answered.

“Yes.”

That made me glance back at him. His expression was unreadable, as always, but there was something in the way he observed me—something I couldn’t place.

“Better or worse?” I pressed, half-joking, half-curious.

Silence stretched between us. He didn’t answer right away, and for a moment, I wondered if he would ignore me completely, just like before. Then, finally, he spoke.

“Different.”

That was all. Just different.

I turned fully toward him, studying his face, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. Different wasn’t necessarily good. It wasn’t necessarily bad, either. But he didn’t elaborate. And for some reason, that single word settled deep in my chest. Before I could dwell on it—before I could ask him anything else—the harbor came into view.

And just like that, a new realization hit me.

What happens next?

His ship wasn’t big enough for two. That much was obvious. If he left, I wouldn’t have a place on it. I could follow him with my own boat, but… would he even want that? Would he allow it? So far, I had gotten by on sheer luck more than anything else. But his route, wherever it led, would be more dangerous than mine had ever been. The people he crossed paths with, the enemies he made—if I followed him, I’d be throwing myself into something I wasn’t prepared for.

So then… what should I do?

I glanced at Mihawk, but he didn’t even look my way. He had to know what I was thinking. He had barely said a word since I found him, but I could tell—he wasn’t oblivious. He saw things. Understood them. And yet, he didn’t offer me any reassurance. No guidance, no warning, not even an ounce of concern.

He just walked. Silent. Unbothered.

As if it didn’t matter what I decided.

Even when we reached the ships—his anchored about seven meters west of mine—he still said nothing. I watched as he climbed aboard his small vessel, moving with the same effortless grace as always. His boots barely made a sound against the wood, and in seconds, he was seated on that eerie throne-like chair of his, as if this were just another ordinary day.

Meanwhile, I stood frozen on the dock, overwhelmed.

This was it. The moment where I had to decide.

Mihawk’s sharp gaze flicked toward me. He raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

I blinked, caught off guard. “...Huh?”

His expression didn’t change. “Your ship,” he said, nodding vaguely in its direction. “Take care of it.”

For a second, I just stared at him. Was that… was that an invitation? It almost sounded like one. A strange way of saying keep up, maybe. But before I could hold onto that thought, he crushed it.

“I won’t wait for you,” he said flatly. “And I won’t acknowledge you.”

I swallowed hard. That was as much of a dismissal as it was a challenge. But instead of scaring me off, it only strengthened my resolve.

I clenched my jaw. Fine. If he wanted me to prove myself, I would.

I turned on my heel and ran. My ship wasn’t far—just a few steps away, the ropes still secure, the sails waiting to be set. My hands worked quickly, untying knots, pulling at the rigging, guiding the vessel away from the dock. The wind was steady, and Mihawk hadn’t gotten much of a head start.

I could still follow him. I would follow him.

Because no matter how indifferent he acted, no matter how many times he dismissed me, I knew one thing for sure:

I couldn’t let him disappear again. I wouldn’t let my past slip through my fingers a second time.

Mihawk pov.

Mihawk sat still on his ship, one leg over the other, watching her. His hands rested casually on his knee. The waves lapped gently against the hull, the sound almost hypnotic as he waited. She was readying her own vessel—her movements quick, purposeful, but still tinged with the same clumsiness that had marked her since the first time he saw her.

So she’s following me.

He knew, of course, that she would. There was something about her that kept pulling her back to him. A curiosity, a stubbornness—whatever it was, it had always made her linger on his path, even when he had never acknowledged her fully.

His gaze never wavered as she worked, his mind oddly… quiet. He had expected this, hadn’t he? It was no surprise. But still, when she turned her ship toward his, he felt an odd, almost abstract sense of satisfaction. A strange flutter.

It was childish, really. Almost pathetic. He had always prided himself on his detachment, his ability to remain unshaken. But seeing her—knowing that, against all odds, she was here, still clinging to something that barely existed between them—somehow, it felt different. He almost let himself feel a little pleased.

What a fool.

It wasn’t supposed to matter. She had no memory of him, of anything. When she had asked him, so bluntly, if they knew each other—her voice tinged with uncertainty—it had been a surprise. He had expected her to remember something, even if it was just a fragment. But no. There had been nothing. She had forgotten everything. And that had… disappointed him in a way he didn’t quite understand. Perhaps it was the fact that the past meant nothing to her. She was a blank slate, unaffected by any of their shared moments. She didn’t recall the danger, the near-death encounters, the strange, almost magnetic bond that had formed between them over time. To her, it was all gone.

And yet she was here, chasing after him still.

That was what irritated him. What had driven him to silence. It wasn’t the fact that she was following him—it was that she had to. She hadn’t even known who he was, yet she had clung to him like a thread that she didn’t even know existed.

I’m not even sure why I let her.

But that, too, was something he didn’t understand. The disappointment, though, lingered. Like a dull ache in the back of his mind. He didn’t know why it mattered that she had no memory. It was just an inconvenience, really. Yet, somehow, the absence of that connection—of the shared history—left him feeling... incomplete. He should’ve been angry. Or frustrated. Or perhaps relieved that she had no memories to haunt him with. But he wasn’t. Instead, he was just... waiting.

Waiting for the moment to sail away and leave all of this behind. To continue on with his journey, as always. No attachments, no obligations. But something told him that the moment he sailed off, she would still be there, following at his heels. It was just the way she was. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as unpleasant as he’d like to admit.

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

hi hope your having a good day!

do you have any headcanons for a yandere Clark Kent, I just think he's neat

Hi! I have slightly great day actually but I hope yours is much better!

In regards to Headcannons about Sups yes, Superman really is a pretty great character loved the guy since I saw him on TV but kinda scared about how they keep making evil superman these days, anyway lemme just open my old notes and please forgive me for typos this isn't really proofread much.

Yandere Clark Kent/SuperMan

HeadCannons

[General, Platonic and Romantic]

General

In the terms of a yandere Clark I think he's somewhat-

Obsessive - loves to pick up even the tiniest things you do or the little stuff that makes you -You! especially with that perfect vision that can literally see for miles.

Example: The tiny baby hairs that curls at your nape when you tie your hair up, The habit you do when something catches your eye or interest and even the slight twitch of your muscle when you're about to do something.

Controlling - but I say he let's you have some freedom, this golden boy is raised by the Kents to hold his temper when things doesn't go his way-

Like when you disagree with what he wants he will then try to hear out your reason first and maybe work something out, it breaks his heart to see you angry, distress or just sad.

But if it's been life or death? your life and wellbeing on the line? There's no talking your way out of this, his words are final.

Hero Complex - He thinks its his responsibility to protect and save you from everything, He's Superman, Man of Steel and a Hero, Yes of course you can get groceries for yourself but atleast let him come with you, you don't know what some people are planning or what goes inside their head until you just find yourself at the end of the barrel of a gun.

[Platonic]

As a Yandere Platonic it's like just in a very over protective family.

Whether you're like a parental figure, a sibling or even like his own child, He'll become to protective over you.

If he ever has the chance to show you of he will but not to the point of telling anyone everything about you, they'll know who you are, your name , what you are or relation to him and what you do but that's it, he'll try to avoid anymore discussion or talks about you, he gets to keep that informations to himself.

Like how you really like your puppy and you want everyone to know you have one but you won't let them pet it or even just look at them in general, it's your puppy, you're not obligated to share them to people.

Very family Oriented guy, he likes to have his family close to him and celebrate any important events with everyone, memories are precious and he wants to keep them forever, we have this thing here -a culture you might say- where in some families it's not really required or force upon the children to move out and become independent sometimes it's still okay to live under the same roof with your grandparents, parents, siblings, in laws, along with your wife and children and your siblings children (dear lord u don't know how true this is in my country)

I like to think that if you want to be a bit independent to Clark, he'll be like 'Oh! I understand so I thought about this instead'-

and literally build either a separate house that reaches his parents farm house in one full walk or extended the house where you get your own space and still be with the family.

He coddles you even more when you don't have superpowers or is a kryptonian, He freaks out when your hurt and acts like you'll die from a little scratch after falling, still kept baby proofing the house even if you become an adult

You can use accidents or possible injuries as a leverage but you can never talk or joke about kys because he will literally get angry with you and gives you lecture about how important your life is.

[Romantic]

As a romantic yandere I think he's a bit on the Hopeless Romantic side.

Believes in love at first sight or soulmates and continue to fall more and more in love with you day by day, thinks about how romantic it is to swoop in and save you as Superman, likes to pop out everytime you stand on your balcony and sneak up on you and how you fit right in his arms as he carries you in the sky with you and him alone above everything and everyone.

Will give you gifts that has more sentimental value than the price tag, like the scarf his Ma made even meals and treats for you, simple things maybe art supplies or notebook for journaling and if he can get a good raise he'll get you that jewelry that brings out your beauty, he loves to see anything he gifts to you on your person a bit like marking on you that kind of stuff.

Doesn't really like Poly-relationship, he's not really against it but He likes to keep you to himself, you're both made for each other and he likes to keep it that way.

Family - adding this again but really wants to get married to you soon after like what 2-3 dates? wants you to move in and become a stay at home spouse where you'll spend more time with his folks and maybe take care of the kids.

Is dying to see you round and prego like goodness lord you are even hotter to him when you stand there either cooking or walking around with your hand on your hip and the other under that bump may or may not.

If you're willing in this relationship maybe 2-3 kids? if not forced pregnancy might become possible.

And if you can't have kids it's alright adoption is available, he would still look like a highschool boy in love when you hold a baby or a tiny kid in your arms

I'm a bit soft on my Yandere stuff so a bit srry for that

And that's all I got for the Big Man supes, I hope you like this and I hope did this right, been writing this one at 3am, Thanks for the ask btw.

[moonstruckme]

Could you write about poly!marauders and how fem reader and the boys dote on Remus during his cycle? If you’re not up to it you can disguard:) love your works

Hi, thanks for requesting honey! To be real with you, I don't know much about how Remus' werewolf cycle works, but I did my best! Love you :)

poly!marauders x reader ♡ 564 words

Sirius won’t stop bouncing his knee. You and James have told him half a dozen times to stop, but he can only seem to quiet himself for a few minutes before the incessant bump bump bump of his heel against the floor picks up again, seemingly without his notice.

You’re about to give him a nudge, but you don’t get the chance. 

“Sirius,” Remus growls into his pillow, and the dark-haired boy goes immediately still. Remus sighs, some of the muscles in his neck visibly relaxing. 

Sirius looks to you with wide eyes. He’s awake? he mouths. 

You shrug. Apparently. 

What do we do?

You’re looking between each other helplessly. You’d think after all this time you’d be used to it, but you and the boys still act like chickens without your heads in the absence of Remus’ guidance. There’s an air of desperation about the room, each of you wanting to do something to help your boyfriend but none knowing what. Remus doesn’t tend to respond well to being coddled, especially when he needs it most. So close to the full moon, you know he’s hypersensitive and likely sore all over, but anytime one of you offers to help he only snarls at you to go away. You’re not going to leave him, but it’s difficult to know how to care for someone who insists they don’t want it. 

I don’t know, you mouth back. Be quiet?

James moves to sit on the edge of the bed and holds up his hands to the both of you, signaling that he’ll handle it. 

“Rem.” James’ voice is as quiet as it ever gets, and he’s being careful not to use the nickname that would be a sore spot at this time of the month. “Do you want something to eat, my love?”

“No.” 

“What about a hot chocolate?” you pipe up, doing your best to sound casual but unable to keep the worry from your voice. “Maybe that would help?”

“What would help is if you all left me alone,” he says, words muffled as he turns his head even more deeply into his pillow. Silence falls over the room. After a moment, Remus sighs. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” you say gently, and you mean it. You’ve long gotten past taking anything he says before the full moon personally. “I get it, honey. Or well, I don’t, but, I…I know it’s hard.”

“Can we touch you?” Sirius ventures. “Or would that make it worse?”

Another sigh. “I don’t know. You can try.” 

That’s all the encouragement Sirius needs, slipping into the bed and curling his body around Remus’ as best he’s able. Remus removes his face from the pillow, allowing Sirius to tuck it under his chin. 

“Okay?” Sirius asks. 

Remus' voice is quiet, but its edge has dulled. “Yeah. Thanks, Pads.” 

James scoots closer on the bed, beginning to massage delicately at the tensed muscles of Remus’ shoulders. You shoot him a commiserative smile, your gazes meeting with matching concern. 

You crouch beside the bed, voice soft and tentative. “What can I do that will help?”

The quiet stretches on a moment longer, and then Remus sounds almost sheepish when he replies, “Hot chocolate sounds nice, actually.”

Sirius chuckles into Remus' hair, and you grin, standing. “Coming right up, lovely boy.” 

Remus’ thanks is muffled into Sirius’ chest, but it brightens your smile anyway. 

[sugoi-writes]

First Time, First Deal - Alastor x Reader - Part Two

A/N: I'm back! As promised, a part two with some spice and a little angst towards the end. Because of COURSE. Please enjoy~

"O-Of course... make me yours, Alastor."

---

The Demon before you needed little encouragement. At your word, his lips pressed first to your ankles, snaking their way up your calves, your knees... His urge to bite and mark you were being held back, wanting to ensure that the first time spent together brought you no pain... At least, for now.

He was surprised by your voice, the way it rose and waned like your body's colors. The more he kissed, the more sturdy you felt in his grasp. You were soft, heavenly soft: like your body had been sculpted by hand. It was an intoxicating feeling, he had to admit... one that had the darker parts of his mind drifting.

He kept his resolve firm as his kisses reached the roundest part of your thighs, angling his gentle caresses inward towards your core. Your breath was held, unable to be let go as Alastor's face came closer and closer to your pulsing need.

Gentle, careful hands came around the sides of your hips, fingers hooking into the waistband of your undergarments. While pressing another kiss to your abdomen, his eyes flickered up to yours. Wordlessly, he asked for permission; a hasty nod was his only reply.

Alastor chuckled, instead leaning further inward," Dear, if you weren't my current muse and confidant..." he purred, teeth hooking onto the hem of your underwear.

Your heart nearly stopped as your undergarments were pulled down by Alastor's razor sharp teeth. Somehow, your body moved on its own, lifting your hips to assist him.

"I would have torn you apart just then... all too tempting to devour, even now~"

You trembled as your bare sex was exposed, making you stammer through a sigh. Eyes locked onto him, you whisper," Right now, I don't think I would mind... it'd be a-- interesting way to die again..."

Alastor's grin grew wickedly, as a long, wet stripe was drawn on your right inner thig.

"Tempting... but for you, I'll grant you a more satisfyingly 'quick death'..." Alastor rebukes, your head falling back. Your lips trembled as a tender kiss landed on the spot you needed most. His tongue runs along the length of your core, as if mapping you out... This, unlike the rest of your body, wasn't completely corporal yet. But as he coddled and teased, you became more solid, dangerously delicate to his sinful lips. He wished to corrupt you... to tear your apart, something FOUL... but that would have to come at a later date.

Alastor places his hands between your knees, forcing your legs to giving him more room. You wait with baited breath before Alastor begins anew with a lulling, pleasing tempo. His tongue was a hot, molten muscle... a sensation that made you burn and yearn for more.

Your hands shakily support your weight as you try not to fall backward, eyes peering down at the sight between your legs. As Alastor's eyes fluttered closed, a pleased groan reverberating through your cunt. You jolt, the sudden, intense sensation making you quake. Alastor chuckles, the sensation from his voice stirring you again.

"Wh-wha-- Oh my Go-- how???" Questions flooded your mind as your sentences came out in disjointed babbles. Your partner's minstrations made you shake with pleasure.

Alastor sends a knowing grin your way, humming as he swirls his tongue around your entrance. You panic and yelp, a hand flying up to stifle your wail. Can't get too carried away, lest a "wayward soul" catches you two in the act...

"My voice, I've found... has an interesting timbre to it... it can give someone quite a shock when it's close to their skin..." You practically sobbed, Alastor's voice vibrating your core more than any Earthly vibrator could. His mouth had made you feel as wet and slippery as a succubus in church... Your hand shakily moves up into your hair, pushing your fringe off of your forehead.

"O-oh my-- God, Alastor!! Y-You shouldve-- I might--!" Between the steady vibrations from Alastor's humming, and the length of time since you last got off... the knot twisting in your loins was growing dangerously tight. Alastor's grin becomes mischievous, a hand smoothing over your abdomen. With ease, he pushes you onto your back. You were just a rag doll under his guided, sensual touch. The Radio Demon pulls back momentarily with a wet pop, before licking his glistening lips.

"I find a meal more delectable when you don't have the full picture, dont you? Think of this as my secret ingredient... a trademark~" Alastor quips. Your neck cracks with how violently your head tosses back, Alastor having picked up the pace. You hear the filter in his voice grow thicker, as if cranking the volume on a toy to a higher output.

"One that- hah-- makes me want to lick my plate clean...~"

Alastor's unbashed, loose groans makes your core sing, your mind swimming through wades of white static at your impending orgasm. Your chest heaves, your toes curl in; it was sudden and with little warning. Alastor could feel you frantically tapping his cheek before you buck into his mouth, your essence soaking his lower jaw.

You quaked with relief as the sensation you hadn't felt in months washed over you, your eyes rolling back towards your skull. Alastor's skilled lips and tongue work you through your high, guiding you back to your body as your mind slows down. The both of you are panting, unsure of what should be said or done next. Was this all....? Was the contract satisfied?

You could barely see that Alastor's lips trembled, a pleased sigh rolling off his chest. Of course not.... how would you even think of being done, after seeing him like this?

You sat up on your elbows, Alastor still licking his saturated lips. You swallow thickly as you watch him try to regulate his breathing, smoothing the wrinkles in his suit. Suddenly, his legs buckle under his body, as if lightheaded. When he falls to his haunches, you spy a familiar outline in his pants... One that made your mouth dry: an outline of a hardened, WELL hung cock. You nearly moaned at the sight, sitting up fully.

"Do you... do you need some help with that? Or maybe-- maybe you would want to stop here..." Your nerves were getting the best of you, purple swirls flooding your near-pearlescent body (one that you had never witnessed before).

With an airy sigh, Alastor palms himself through his trousers, as if readjusting. He's quick to shake his head," The only condition was that you found your completion... I have no need for such things." You roll your eyes as you lean up, crawling forward. Your shaky legs burned as you finally closed the space between your lips and his, tasting yourself on his tongue. 

Alastor nearly stumbles backward, the call of a startled animal gracing your velvety lips. Alastor's mind lags, eyes blown wide. After a beat, something inside of his mind informs him to return the gesture; he did so heatedly. When you part, your eyes glisten with knowledge and desire.

"Contract be damned. If I can't add a clause... then this one is out of the goodness of my heart," you practically purred, pulling Alastor up by his blazer.

"Whatever's left of that, at least~"

Alastor's breath leaves him, as a familiar throb echoes through his body. That was a dangerous thing to say around a demon like him...

He had little time to stop you before you're both flung onto the bed, your back pressed firmly into the mattress below. Alastor searches your face for hesitation, as if looking for a way out, before he hisses from bliss. One or your warm, treacherous hands finds its place on his crotch, teasing his tense member.

"So what will it be, Alastor...? May I lay claim to you, too?" Alastor's face scrunches up momentarily. He?!? Be owned by YOU? Even in the metaphorical sense, this idea rattled him. Enraged him. He, the Radio Demon, should belong to NO ONE. And even then, he was already entangled in someone else's web...

But, your devilish little fingers were making his stance harder to uphold, his eyes fluttering as you begin to free his cock. His predicament be damned... you simply knew what buttons to press, as if your hand were hovering over them this whole time.

His precum was all that was needed to wet his member, your hand sliding along it with ease. The sensation urked him, but the dizzying pleasure he felt outshined his disdain for his own essence. He hadn't realized that your vulgar display had spurred his pleasure this much.

"You may be walking into a contract you may not be able to fulfill, my dear..." Alastor warns, his eyes wide and glowing from your teasing. His pupils flicker to dials briefly, as if to further illustrate the situation you're in. His voice oozed venom, but his body betrayed him. Your smile almost perfectly mimics his own, a heated kiss being pressed to his neck.

"Then make it a deal I can't possibly refuse...~"

---

You needed little preparation, most of which was drowned out by Alastors wide, hot mouth on yours. Like frenzied animals, you swallowed each other's moans and cries, dry humping and bumping into one another like your lives depended on it. Somehow, Alastor's hand still managed to tease and prepare you, while yours continued to bolster and engorge his member.

Alastor's face was flushed, lips swollen and puffy from your mutual assault when you parted. Clothes were not necessary, and so Alastor was rid of those moments before. As his cock glided between your petals, you again caught a glance, practically daring your to invite him in. And like a cunning vampire, he did not cross the heated ring of your threshold until your practically begged him.

Your head spun as you were speared by his cock, his length not the only impressive part of his manhood. Your eyes watered, a strangled cry hastily mangled by Alastor's lips once more. You heard the radio close by build in volume; perhaps a lackluster attempt to drown your sounds out. Alastor grips your chin tightly when he bottoms out in your silken cavern, his nose brushing yours.

"You are ONLY to make those sounds for me, and no one else... understood?" You gasped as Alastor began to move, your body shaking from the sensation. Old habits would never die, as he treated your mingling like a negotiation.

"Y-Yes sir, Alastor..." A strained groan leaves your partner as his next thrust comes faster, leaving you gapping like a fish out of water.

"I am the only one who may be graced with this ravenous display... understood?" the Demon grit out, his antlers growing in magnitude. You could barely think as you frantically nodded, your hips meeting his thrusts.

"Y-Yes, Al--ahh!! Alastor!" His teeth grazed across your neck cautiously, the location of your jugular so close to his tongue. It thrilled and frightened you to know that one bite would be all it took to end your afterlife. Alastor knew this too, his back arching as he continued to piston into you. He was surprised at how pliable your entrance was... maybe you weren't completely corporal, afterall?

No matter he thought... he would ensure that your body would become perfectly moulded to his cock, unable to stuff anything else within.

Alastor's grip on your hips began to leave marks as his pace became less careful, your breath coming out in quick, pleasured rasps. His name became an intoxicating matra to his ears.

"Yes... yes dear, just like that... Your voice may very well become the star of my next broadcast!!" You squealed as you felt his cock throb within you, arms flying up to wrap around his neck. Alastor rested his chin on the crown of your skull as he continued to seek both of your peaks.

"Y-Yes... yes, I think your shrills... your WAILS of pleasure would be--" Alastor's hips stutter as you clamp down on him. His mind was wavering, and your body cementing him back into the moment.

" N-No... no, you're right. I must have you... MINE, all mine...," he panted as his head lolled forward," How could I forget our arrangement, cher?!"

Your eyes fluttered open as Alastor's blissed out, manic laughter flooded your senses. The petname was not missed by you...

You clung for dear life as your orgasm continued to build,"I-Im yours, Al!!!"

You whined, tilting your head back before Alastor kisses your forehead," Pl-Please... please, make me cum...!" You could feel Alastor's grin strain and widen, a bemused moan leaving him.

"Only when I SAY you can cum, darling!!"

You wailed as Alastor's hips slowed, thrashing beneath the deer demon. Like wild game stuck in a bear trap, you became desperate. His eyes were malicious, tongue running across his teeth cheekily. You could feel his ego building, the control he has in this situation making him all the more hard.

"Pl-Please... fuck, Al-- I mean-- fuck me, Alastor!!"

Alastor's hips delivered a tantilizing thrust, hitting a spot that made you see the Heavens," What was that~? I can't hear you over those cute, pathetic mewls you're making~"

You could barely speak as Alastor continued the slow attack on your most sensitive spot, one that you had not felt in YEARS. You practically screamed for Alastor to fuck you silly, his laughter following a brutal revival in his pace.

" Well, well, well! That's what I like to hear~"

His cock was merciless, the grotesque sounds of flesh striking flesh drowning both of your senses. Your hands clung to anything they could grasp: his cheeks, his shoulders, his back, his hips... your hands explored him desperately. They were almost as desperate as Alastor's cock grew to be.

He was losing himself, he feared. His eyes were half lidded and focused on the way your lips parted, and the way your body recoiled and collided with his... It was almost too much, too much stimulus for him to focus on. He needed something to refocus him: one solid thing to ground him.

As Alastor panted like an animal in heat, you caught the distant look in his eyes. Your expression softened, hands shakily capturing his face. Alastor's eyes left your body, widening as they landed on your eyes again. Though lust and desire swirled in them, your underlying desire was still so pure, so genuine...

"L-Let's-- let's do it together? Okay???"

Alastor was about to retort, an attempt to take back control from the situation. To his horror, your lips were more convincing. He relented, his hips stuttering once more as he felt your walls closing deliciously around him. He could not see the heated way you collided again when you both peaked, his hips coming to a halt. He nearly winced, not meaning to cum inside of you. You didn't seem to mind, as you greedily swallowed up his grunts and fluids.

"Sh-Shit...!"

There were little movements, shaky thrusts and grinds, as the two of your spiraled back down. The room felt like it had melted into a deep void, the two of you being the only objects of interest inside. Alastor collapsed on top of you as the radio hummed quietly beside you, your eyes fluttering open.

"That was... Alastor, that was... perfect," you wheezed. Though Alastor wasn't heavy, his weight still felt suffocating after your intimate romp.

"Was it-- was it good for you, too?" You could not see the slight panic in his eyes, his face buried into your neck. His breath was still labored as his mind was racing.

"It... it was splendid, dear. Absolutely... splendid." You sigh with relief, unable to see the gears spinning in his twisted mind. You patted Alastor's back, signalling him to get up. Alastor squeezed you into a tight embrace, making you chuckle," O-Oh... didn't realize you uhh.... y-yeah, yeah we can cuddle too. I guess that's pretty normal after something like this."

Alastor could only hum in agreement as you rotated the both of you to your sides. You felt your face heat up as your felt Alastor' release slowly trickle out of you. The demon's face left your neck. Instead, he tucked you into his chest, a hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. The gesture was seen as a kind one to you... but to Alastor, it was to prevent you from seeing him like this.

You grew tired as you inhaled deeply, the smell of sex and pine mixing into your senses," I... I'll be honest, I'm not sure if I can walk, but... wake me up in a few minutes...? We can take a nap and clean up soon, 'kay?"

"Of course," Alastor replied, his characteristic filter comforting you," Take all the time you need, mon cher..." You hummed quietly, snuggling just a bit closer as you felt sleep take you.

Alastor huffed, a hand coming up to comb through his sweaty hair. This was MORE than just different... more than some deal or experiment. That felt real. TOO real. He looked down to your sleeping form, eye twitching. And how he relinquished control like that... even though you mutually wanted this... that was scary. Frightening. His shadows loomed higher over the two of you, its expression manic.

Surely he wasn't losing his edge, right? This was just a friend helping out another friend, right? You were a friend who was charming, sweet, and felt... MUCH too soft for her own good.

A taloned hand ran through your hair, surprisingly chaste... He nearly jumped out of his skin as you groaned in your sleep, relaxing into the touch. His shadow disapated. Perhaps he wasn't shaping you to his liking... Perhaps you were shaping each other?

Alastor held you close as he reflected on the experience. One that was most definitely fun and positive... but one that troubled him all the same. He MUST be careful. For both of your sakes. If he got too invested, there would be no telling what would happen to either of you. And, perhaps his most troubling thought...He realized there was, indeed, one demon in Hell that he had grown to care for.

Sleep did not wait long for Alastor... in fact, he fell victim to it swiftly, unable to wake until the next morning, to the subtle sound of your breathing...

[wardrobeghost]

Baby Blue (ff-ao3)

Zhuo Yi Chen becomes sick, which is unprecedented for a demon. Li Lun and Zhao Yuanzhou are shocked when they find a small baby dragon lying in a pile of blue robes at the bureau. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘It’s so cute—‘ Zhao Yuanzhou stated.

‘Like a small acorn…’ Li Lun added. The monkey yao clicked his tongue at his friend in distaste at the description.

‘What is it?’ Asked Li Lun, who was the younger of the two demons.

‘It appears to be a baby dragon…’ Zhao Yuanzhou enlightened him as they both stared down at the small blue form of the divine creature. Its long body was coiled around itself as it snuggled into a swath of dark robes. A familiar scent wafted towards them from the clothes, and Zhao Yuanzhou recognised immediately that the blue and silver adorned pieces of clothing belonged to none other than the mortal Zhuo Yi Chen.

‘Has the mortal lost his mind?’ Li Lun said in a scolding tone, ‘What’s he thinking bringing such a creature into a human city?’

‘Wait–’ Zhao Yuanzhou interjected and walked over to the peacefully sleeping little creature. He knelt down towards it, eyeing the small, illustrious horns that protruded from its head. The sight was rather familiar and alarming to him. Before he made any attempt to figure out the situation, he swaddled the dragon and its robes into his arms whilst Li Lun stared at him in confusion on the sidelines. 

‘There’s something that needs to be confirmed.’ Zhao Yuanzhou told no one in particular, as Li Lun didn’t even seem to understand what it was that the monkey yao had figured out, but it seemed to be of great importance by the tone of his voice. He held the baby creature protectively in his arms whilst its soft breathing betrayed its comfortable slumber. Just then, Wen Xiao walked by them, her arms also full, but with books instead. She noticed the two demons standing in the hallway and stopped.

‘You two aren’t up to any trouble, I hope?’ She quipped, her usual bubbly remarks always seemed to make Zhao Yuanzhou smile at her. Li Lun, on the other hand, scoffed at the sound of her voice.

‘What’s it to you, mortal? We can do as we please–’ 

His harsh words were cut short again when Zhao Yuanzhou waved his hand in the air for him to silence himself. The younger demon’s eyebrow twitched at his friend's audacity, but he stayed silent regardless. 

‘Wen Xiao, did you happen to see Xiao Zhuo Daren anywhere?’ He asked thoughtfully. Li Lun was also interested to know this and glanced at the delicately dressed woman. Wen Xiao lifted the books in her arms as if her standing still for too long made her weak muscles hurt, She replied quickly and with a slight worried expression. 

‘Xiao Zhuo mentioned earlier that he was feeling under the weather, so he has been resting in his room since.’

‘Oh?’ 

Both Li Lun and Zhao Yuanzhou glanced at each other in disbelief, it seemed a mutual understanding was unspoken between them, unbeknownst to the mortal girl. Wen Xiao nodded to them after seeing they had nothing else to say, she eyed the pile of clothes in Zhao Yuanzhou’s arms and spoke before leaving.

‘If you have laundry, you should leave it quickly, the maids will be overworked if you add more to their pile.’ 

Zhao Yuanzhou smiled at her kindness and nodded. She then quickly darted off, her busy speed amusing the monkey yao. As for the reason why he hadn’t revealed the existence of the baby dragon to her, well, for one, he had no idea if the creature posed a threat or not, even if it was just a child. As for the other reason, if the small thing coddled in his arms happened to be what he expected, then he’d be saving the person from an extreme amount of humiliation in the future. 

‘What are you going to do?’ Li Lun asked him. It seemed he still hadn’t caught on to Zhao Yuanzhou’s thoughts, which wasn’t surprising. The two of them happened to diverge a lot when it came to their personalities, so having differing trains of thought was also an obvious thing. The older demon turned to the younger and stared down at the small creature in his arms, like a mother looking gently at her child. 

‘We should hide him, of course.’ 

Li Lun tilted his head at these words. 

Currently writing on ao3 ^^