#raywritings

[toxicmalysh]

Are you listening Detka?

Wanda X female reader

Word count: 1k+

Summary: established relationship, Wanda is the CEO of her company and has to travel from time to time, whilst calling your attentive girlfriend things take a turn

Warnings: masturbation (R and W), slight degrading, mentions of breeding if you squint, that's pretty much it

✧⋆✦⋆✧

Your girlfriend being the head of her company had its perks, she spoiled you, rotten, anything you even paid more than 5 seconds of attention to she'd buy it for you. Going abroad to sight see, spending time in beautiful villas and beaches. Driving you around in expensive cars with that clean smell. Dates in exclusive restaurants drinking wine you couldn't afford even if you worked for months. It was a lush lifestyle you never imagined until you bumped into the curious woman at your local cafe a few years ago.

However, her job also had its cons, specifically her need to travel from time to time. The job was demanding, having to go to different sites was one of them. It wasn't often but when it was it was for a few weeks at a time leaving you lonely in your shared bed, missing her comfort dearly.

The time difference wasn't much, leaving you a few hours ahead, and she called routinely in her evenings after countless meetings. Usually you'd talk about her day, useless staff not handling her instructions, or your day and how your part time job was going. Tonight however, you were missing one of her features in particular, her ability to make you feel good. You were craving her touch.

"it was an absolute nightmare, I kept telling him he needed to format the spreadsheets before printing them because of the pdf conversion but he just wasn't getting it."

Wanda's voice was smooth through the phone speaker, her subtle accent normally mesmerized you, but there was a slight hoarseness from how tired she was. The usually raspy tone she'd take with you when telling you to spread your legs or lay still.

Your thighs were mindlessly rubbing together, as you found yourself fidgeting to suppress the ache between your legs as your girlfriend spoke. You cleared your throat before attempting to respond.

"haven't you already explained that to him the last time you saw him?"

You listened to the slight groan from the other side, more lewd thoughts filtering into your mind and the idea of how she was usually under you when making that sort of noise.

"I did yeah,"

She took a sharp breath before continuing, you wanted to pay attention, but the throbbing was unbearable and the thought of Wanda next to you stroking your thighs wasn't leaving your head anytime soon.

You shuffled around, humming along to what Wanda was saying, focusing on removing your pyjama bottoms and panties.

"and he tried to argue that he hadn't had this issue before, but he absolutely did because I have told him so many times the graph gets cut off on the right hand side,"

Your focus was faulty, your hand gliding over your right breast slowly, pinching ever so gently over your nipple, all you could process was the cracking of her accent and the wetness spreading across the skin of your thighs.

You rolled your nipple a few times before placing your phone on speaker, onto your nightstand, tracing slow lines down your abdomen before your mound. You needed Wanda so badly, shutting your eyes imagining her hands on your skin.

You pick up specific words coming from Wanda's rant, "dumb" "choke" "so well" "for me" "go on", those few words usually used in a context of punishment or pleasure with you.

Your head was fuzzy, imagining Wanda's fingers gliding up your soaking folds, warm and sensitive from the neediness of the situation. You hummed in response to Wanda's sentences whenever she paused for more than two seconds.

"Are you okay?"

The question snapped you out of your trance for a moment, your fingers freezing, and you began composing yourself to answer,

"Yeah Wands," you were more breathless than you realised, "yeah just keep talking."

"okay darling, well," she paused to remember where she was, your fingers rising to rub tight circles on your clit, "after all of that she finally agreed that,"

Warm, you felt so warm, your chest rising quickly, your fingers moving faster, you weren't even aware of how heavy your breathing had gotten over the phone.

"Are you listening detka?"

Wanda's voice wasn't irritated, but rather low and curious, you began nodding before answering, gulping as you hummed in response not trusting your own words.

There was a few moments of silence before Wanda spoke again,

"let me hear how wet you are."

Your eyes rolled and you let out an audible whine at her words. Usually you'd be humiliated with how she knew what you were doing, embarrassed that you couldn't control yourself around her, but with how close you already were and how badly you needed her, you slid your fingers slowly into your pulsing hole before finding a rougher rhythm.

Wanda could hear your fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, the wet sounds echoing through the phone. She reached for her own pyjamas, pulling them down before placing her phone on speaker matching you.

“Do you miss me that much sweetheart? Need my touch that badly?”

You whined down the line, your fingers moving faster inside yourself, you were nodding quickly, even though Wanda couldn't see, she knew you were, she knew you were answering like the good girl you were. You could feel yourself throbbing around your digits, feeling slightly unsatisfied knowing it wasn't Wanda's slender fingers filling you up.

“Tell me, what would you want if I was there detka?”

You hummed softly, pulling your fingers from your pussy and onto your clit, making faster circles than before, needing a release.

“I.. I would want you to be rough, make sure I knew you still needed to touch my body, feel my pussy around your fingers.”

Wanda's hand found her own clit, groping her breast firmly as she breathed out, imaging you squirming beneath her, crying for anything,

“What about my strap hm? Would you want me to fill that pretty cunt of yours?”

Her voice was broken and your eyes rolled at the idea, suddenly feeling empty with just your hand to pleasure yourself. You cried out as you pushed two fingers back into yourself, curling them the same way Wanda would.

“Please, please I need your cock.”

Your voice was dripping with impatience and neediness, Wanda knew you were close, and the moans that were falling from your lips were pushing her faster to her own climax. She could imagine the way your pussy would throb around her strap, sucking her in deeper as you twitched in pleasure from such strong orgasms.

“I miss you so much.”

Wanda let out an unholy whine at your words, squeezing her eyes as she focused on the sounds of your fingers squelching in your heat. She felt the familiar coil in her abdomen, needing to let go of her pent up stress.

“You have no idea how badly I want to taste what's making all that noise.”

You bit your lip at your girlfriend's voice, breathless and whiney. Her voice was always so commanding and stable, right now it was anything but, shaking and cracking as she moaned through her words. Even the idea of how needy Wanda was to feel and taste you was enough to push you to the orgasm you were ready to beg for,

“Can I cum? Please can I cum? Please please?”

Wanda thought it was adorable how messy you were when begging, repeating words, struggling to finish a sentence, it was utterly adorable. She waited a few seconds, successfully catching up to you before answering,

“Come for me detka be a good girl for me.”

As soon as you heard Wanda's high pitch moan leave her lips, hearing the slight ruffle of the fabric on her end from how hard she was convulsing, your body finally snapped. A white hot rush spread across your body, your limbs locking as they shook erratically, your legs squeezing your hand and arm. Your back arched off the bed and you let out a cracked moan, falling limp immediately as your legs fell back open.

Your breaths synchronised, and you ran your fingers through your hair as you caught your breath, eyes remaining shut as you came down. Just as you were ready to apologise to Wanda for not listening to her rant, her quiet voice climbed through the speaker,

“Can you do another one for me sweetheart?”

[ushijimaschubbs]

riding nanami, even though is one of the best experiences of your life, is also something that affects you the next day because that man will never get enough of your ass bouncing around his crotch as you clutched onto his chest for support, his cheeks flushed and hot, his brain foggy but he insists you keep going on because he is in love with the intoxicating sight he's witnessing. his face is nuzzled between your glistening, plump tits, holding your love handles as you clench around his dick to watch him squirm beneath you, begging you to fasten up the pace only to keep making you do it for the innumerable time that day.

[raymurata]

Glory. (Zev POV Zevwarden fic)

[rayraelleaizawa]

Now we have the same mistake on us

Ace x Reader (no gender mentioned)

Tags: Fluff, Tattoos, Couple

gn!reader

Just a very short scene of this cute boy I had in mind for a wile :)

You show Ace your new Tattoo after he got his

You looked at Ace and his new arm tattoo - A S C E. He smiled like he always does.

"Was the typo of your name on purpose?" you asked him teasingly.

His smile dropped a bit as he looked at it. Then he shrugged.

"At least it makes it even more uniquie, doesn't it?" and there his smile was again.

It made you happy everytime you remembered this, which led to your desicion of also getting a tattoo of your name - with a typing mistake in it. It wasn't as big as his, just a small one on the underside of your wrist.

You couldn't wait for Ace to return to the ship and show him. The moment he returned he went to you and asked you how your day has been and how much you missed him. He noticed that you were hiding something, so he asked you what it was.

At first you were teasing him, not telling him what you did, but then he gave you that sleek smile and puppy eyes, begging to know until you gave in and showed him your small tattoo on your arm.

He laughed happily, adoration in his eyes as he picked you up and spun you around. For him, it was proof of the connection you two had.

"Now we can be unique together."

[dndwithray]

Have you ever wondered why there are so many blonde-haired, sword-wielding twinks with one arm who are bad at talking to girls and have non-human sidekicks in media? No? Just me? Well it's true! A lot of male-presenting sword-fighters seem to have at least 3 of these tropes attached to them and it's weird that there are so many of them. Here are a few AND here's a table-top game where you can play as your very own Twinks w/ Swords!

Link from Legend of Zelda

Cloud Strife from Final Fantasy 7

Finn the Human from Adventure Time

Edward Elric from Full Metal Alchemist

Luke and Anakin Skywalker from Star Wars

Art by @halfway-to-mars

[echo-three-one]

This is what 4 hours of writing inspiration does to a dormant writer.

Soap x Reader NSFW fic (links to AO3)

[ao3feed-itafushi]

When it's Good it's Gold

by raywrites (haunt_me_then) Yuuji tilts his head, tone edging into shrewdness when he asks, “What's the catch?” Kenjaku does not smile, but the area around his sharp fox-eyes crinkles a bit like he wants to. “Your body and soul,” he states simply. “On a temporary basis, as is negotiated per the contract. Maybe not a small price, but for many a worthwhile one.” - Au where Yuuji is desperate for cash and jumps into escorting after high school. But soon discovers everything and everyone has a price, a vice, a fatal flaw to exploit. Including himself. Words: 8719, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Categories: Multi Characters: Itadori Yuuji, Kenjaku | Fake Getou Suguru, Getou Suguru, Fushiguro Toji, Fushiguro Megumi, Kugisaki Nobara, Zenin Naoya, Gojo Satoru Relationships: Fushiguro Megumi/Itadori Yuuji, Gojo Satoru/Itadori Yuuji, Getou Suguru/Itadori Yuuji, Minor Gojo Satoru/Geto Suguru, Fushiguro Toji/Itadori Yuuji, one sided Zenin Naoya/Itadori Yuuji Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Escorts, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Sex Work, Escort!Itadori Yuuji, Prostitution, Trans Itadori Yuuji, Itadori Yuuji Needs a Hug, Itadori Yuuji Has a Vagina, Itadori Yuuji falls into sex work, and ofc its more than he bargained for, Dubious Consent, No underage prostitution, Office Sex, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Itadori Yuuji's sexual awakening, Trans Male Character, Capitalism, realities of sex work, Loss of Virginity from AO3 works tagged 'Fushiguro Megumi/Itadori Yuuji' https://ift.tt/BkJdnjO

[syluss-slut]

Introduction ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

Hi. I'm ray.

Mostly use Tumblr to read but sometimes write and post too.

Current fixation is sleeptoken. Previous ones are l&ds and brahms (the boy 2016).

Oh and a yoongi stan.

If you look forward to shitposts and unhinged reblogs then follow along!! :)

All my works are tagged #raywrites

[limerlove]

i just mothered so hard on the first part maybe #raywriter is back?

MHMMMMM I LOVE WHEN MY CREATIVE JUICES ARE FLOWING AND I CREATE SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL YEAHHH FUCKDKDBSBS

[crvdence]

we want us like everything else

the world is ending, theo is going to be thrown into things he doesn't want to do, but blaise is ready to promise him he will be there no matter what. | thlaise | 1489 words | read in ao3

“why you don't understand.” theo breathed out, feeling as aggravated as his voice was giving away. “that is the end of the world.”

and blaise blinked up at him, surprised, trying to soak into the words of the younger, because it didn't sound like theodore nott at all. theo who has lived through hell and back wasn't prone to dramatics, he was sensitive, wary of the world, he was cautious, but he wasn't someone quick to panic and dramatics, he was a plotter, he was a strategist.

but the theodore nott in front of him, all white knuckles and shivering limbs and watery eyes, wasn't being any of those things. he was terrified and he was freaking out, and the fact itself was such a novelty, blaise zabini didn't know what to do.

“caro…” he took a step closer, his voice effortlessly sultry, effortlessly inviting. and at any given situation, it would have helped to calm theo down, to send him memories of blood oranges and sweet wine in the beaches of the south of france, of promises sealed through kisses against patches of scarred pale skin, of confidence shared in whispers over piles and piles of ancient parchments.

but it wasn't working this time. blaise wasn't able to push through the panic soaking every inch of theo’s body, to break the curse his lover seemed to be immersed in.

“don't caro me!” theo hissed, and the first tear rolled down his cheek like a translucent pearl, leaving a trace in its aftermath, disappearing under his chin. “it's the truth. it's the fucking truth!” the rage in theo’s voice was so surprising, blaise was completely taken aback by it. it was like looking at him for the very first time, hearing him for the very first time. this is what war, what pain and fear, did to someone you cherished so deeply. “my father is out of azkaban, i will have to take the dark mark, i will have to fight by voldemort’s side.” each word seemed to be followed by a bigger wave of panic, and by then, blaise didn't know how theo’s legs were holding him up. “e-everything is in shambles. e-everything is… and i-i will...” he finally reached a breaking point, a sob shaking his entire body, and blaise rushed to his side before he would collapse on the floor like a ragged doll.

he held him dearly, close, absorbing the sobs and the shudders of magic that came from his body, strong hands holding him up and making sure they were both as comfortable as they could be, even if kneeling on the floor, even if theo was doubled over himself with a posture that wasn't gracious or good for his back, as it wasn't the desperate wailing sounds tearing up his throat.

blaise allowed theo to cry out all his frustration, his fear and his panic. he let him unleash his demons, all the things he knew he was feeling but he didn't dare to say out loud because everything and everyone was a newfound enemy between four walls when a war was about to crash and burn everything built around them, no matter how much they might despise it. he didn't say anything, knowing there wasn't anything theo wanted to hear, and knowing that probably, there was no word of reassurance that could be sincere.

theo, in the end, was right. it was the bloody end of the world. at least, it was the end of the world as they have always lived in. and the idea of their world shifting, being destroyed, even if to be rebuilt into something better, lighter, was unbelievable for blaise.

the consequences of it were unimaginable. the idea of theo having to take sides of a war neither of them wanted, of having to be marked for a cause none of them believed in, was the worst case scenario, the worst and the most scary thing of their world ending.

it was the end of the world. and they were just two poor sods caught in the middle of it.

if everything wasn't so tense, and so awfully sad, blaise would have laughed. but he couldn't. because it was true it was the end of the world, and they were caught in the middle of it, but he could really love theo more than he did, in a world where it never was expected to happen, and that should be enough for tracing a plan, an escaping line.

and there wasn't a lot blaise couldn't offer, because theo was terrified and angry and sad and wrapped in an anxiety as big as all the magic he can keep inside his body, and blaise was fed up and melodramatic and unable to use as much resources as he wanted to use, but the two of them knew that all the things theo had listed, were final, as fixed as the sun going up every day in the sky.

it was the end of the world. theo’s father was out of azkaban. he was going to be forced to take the dark mark. he was going to fight at the war by voldemort’s side.

but there was another thing as fixed as their destiny and it was that they couldn't love each other more than they did, and they were going to find each other, after the war, after the end of the fucking world.

“theo, listen to me.” blaise started, calloused and rough fingers, skilled from flying, moved to wipe away the tears collecting underneath theo’s eyes, a smile perfect, still easy, reassuring. “i want to be with you, always.” he whispered, his voice firm. “even if the world is ending, i will go back to you and find you in the new world. i promise, i bloody promise, theo. i vow to you, do you understand? i will vow .”

theo looked at him like he was talking in parseltongue, his mouth agape, as if he was trying to really understand what blaise was saying to him, what he was implying, because those were heavy words, not to be taking slightly, even at the doors of the world ending. but before he could say anything else, blaise started to speak again.

“do you trust me? do you trust us enough?” and the heaviness of the question fell on theo’s chest like the weight of a tomb, but if the world was ending and he was going to die anyway, he would rather do it with a binding promise to blaise instead.

blaise smiled, and pressed his lips into theo’s chapped ones into a bruising kiss.

the hardest part about their promise was to find a bonder, someone who would help to cast the spell for them. draco laughed at them, calling them crazy, and telling them he wasn't going to shoulder the responsibility of such a stupid and rushed unbreakable vow. pansy refused as well, saying she wasn't going to sign a death sentence, whether or not they survived the actual war. daphne seemed horrified at the idea of them making an unbreakable vow, millicent snorted and warned them about not being hopelessly romantics and bloody idiots just because they were thrown into a war...

the bonder came from the place both of them were expecting the less, by the hand of astoria greengrass. she said she wasn't completely sure if this was the greatest of the ideas, but that she wasn't going to interfere into the desire of the two of them, if it was what the both truly wanted.

(“it should be so thrilling, shouldn't it?” she would whisper, giddy, over a cup of tea to theodore nott a few days before her agreement. “to have someone committing to you like that, words can't really describe it.”

and they didn't, so theo didn't say anything, he just felt the heat expanding through his body like a flame.)

a month before the battle of hogwarts theodore nott and blaise zabini made an unbreakable vow. it was week after theodore nott was forced to take the dark mark, when he was ambushed and taken by surprise, held down by a hand belonging to a flint and another one by a malfoy and with a wand held by his father, his fate sealed when dark strokes covered scarred skin.

there was no ritual, no fancy dresses, no pompous agreements. there was a lot of silence, and a lot of tears, theo’s hand tugging the hem of his tunic, as to make sure the mark was never going to be exposed, that it was never going to see the light.

when they held each other forearms, theo could feel the warmth seeping through the luxurious and thick fabric of blaise’s clothes, as rivulets of sparkly magic moved around them, sealing their future, as uncertain as it was, forever.

and the words exchanged were simple: “we will never, ever, be apart.”

[rayshippouuchiha]

Au with Ichigo as a pretty amazing ASMR YouTuber and the local serial killer is the fan that loves him

Perhaps not exactly what you had in mind but this is what the void spat forth so here we go:

Kisuke's never been fond of the term psychopath.

Or, to be more accurate, he's never been fond of having the label attached to himself.

He's self-aware and intelligent enough to understand why so many people enjoy attempting to attach that particular tag to his name after spending any real amount of time with him.

Kisuke knows that, he's aware, and so it's honestly completely understandable when people reach that conclusion.

It's just that he's just never actually agreed with the pseudo-diagnosis so many like to sling in his direction.

Because Kisuke knows himself better than anyone else and he knows that he is not a psychopath.

Is he manipulative? Yes, of course. Is he violent? Obviously.

But Kisuke has never lacked empathy, has never lacked remorse or anything of the like.

His emotions are and have always been firmly intact.

So, contrary to popular belief, Kisuke is not a psychopath.

Instead, he's simply blessed with a particular talent for pragmatism.

Or perhaps an overabundance of it, depending on who one asks.

For all that Kisuke has always enjoyed learning and experimenting and generally broadening his intellectual horizons, it's a passion that had, ultimately, been born from practicality.

He'd grown up destitute, just another Kabukichō bastard. He'd been born to a mother who'd worked in whatever shady "host club" that would take her and who had simply stopped coming back to the matchbox apartment they'd lived in by the time Kisuke was eight.

She'd left for work one evening, heels on, cheap perfume lingering in the air around them, with an absently affectionate kiss to the top of his messy hair and Kisuke had simply never seen her again.

Kisuke had been on the streets, scrapping and stealing and learning to be vicious just to survive, by the time he was nine.

Every single move he'd made back then had been guided by practicality, with the only real goal in mind being that of his own survival.

His first kill had been much the same.

There'd been a shatei of one of the local yakuza Clans who liked to linger in Kisuke's preferred areas of operation.

A yakuza little brother with a taste for little brothers of his own.

And he was particularly fond of Kisuke with his exotic blond hair and his captivating eyes.

He'd tried to come across as friendly, as fun and harmless.

But Kisuke had seen through him. Had seen through that intense sort of friendliness he'd exuded and right down to the hungry sort of emptiness that lived beneath it.

He'd seen through it but he'd still allowed himself to be lured in. Had taken the food and the snacks, the money and the headpats that made Kisuke's teeth itch. Had allowed himself to be pulled in closer and closer.

And then, when the time was right, Kisuke had struck.

Like a spider finally pulling on the razor-silk threads he'd woven, trapping prey that had firmly believed itself to be the only predator in the room.

Killing the man had been equal parts work and luck for Kisuke. For all of his planning, he had been only ten and whipcord lean with hunger at the time. But he'd also been quick and clever and had possessed a survival instinct that his year on the streets had done nothing but sharpen to a razor's edge.

So he'd been just a bit battered at the end but he'd gotten the job done, leaving the man limp and empty-eyed on the bed of the back alley love hotel he'd finally "coaxed" Kisuke into visiting with him.

Emotionally? Mentally? Killing that yakuza had just made sense to Kisuke. He'd been eliminating a threat. Disposing of a danger to himself and the other kids who roamed the back streets and alleyways.

Stealing his wallet and knife as well as anything useful out of the room itself but leaving the man's recognizable, identifiable, jewelry behind had all been practical choices.

Come to find out, killing pedophiles and other sexual predators that haunted Kabukichō ended up being fairly lucrative as well.

So, in Kisuke's opinion, it was only practical that he kept doing it.

~~~

Kisuke had operated like that for years, doing what he needed to do to survive, practicing his particular brand of pragmatism, right up until Yoruichi-sama had found him mid-kill and, instead of turning him in, had chosen to take him under her wing.

Yoruichi-sama had cared for him, had fed his mind as well as his body, and had allowed him to flourish and grow.

And she'd taught him how to refine his skills and then how to put them to use for the benefit of herself and for the Shihōin Clan as a whole.

He'd stayed by her side, had killed and heeled at her command like the loyal dog he was, for years.

Right up until he'd finally overstepped.

~~~

Hirako-sama had demanded Kisuke's head for what he'd done but Yoruichi had managed to talk him down to banishment and stripping of all Shihōin Clan protections.

Kisuke likely could have avoided such a thing if he'd agreed to Yoruichi-sama's suggestion to perform yubitsume but he'd refused.

Kisuke was more than capable of feeling regret and remorse no matter what the majority of the Shihōin, and Yoruichi-sama's little bee in particular, liked to whisper about him.

The fact of the matter was that he simply didn't regret killing Aizen Sosuke.

Kisuke had been one of the rare few who'd disliked the accountant, who'd never been drawn in by his charming smiles and his soft, slightly bookish persona that was somewhat of a rarity in their world.

Kisuke had known better.

Aizen had been a threat. Just another empty-eyed predator of a breed that Kisuke had no patience to deal with.

Kisuke had been content to keep a watch on him but to mostly ignore him, had managed to do so for years as a matter of fact.

Until he'd happened to see Aizen interact with young Hinamori Momo.

It had only been practical for Kisuke to do what he'd done after that.

Performing yubitsume and losing a pinky finger in remorse would have been an entirely empty gesture that Kisuke had no interest in.

In the end, Kisuke had chosen banishment instead, unwilling to have Yoruichi-sama fight for him any more than she already had.

He'd packed up what little he owned, taken his accounts and the hefty deposit Yoruichi had refused to take back (a severance package she'd said with that wry tilt to her mouth) had left.

~~~

He'd wandered for a while. Spent some time in Okinawa and Yokohama alike. He'd drifted from place to place and had even, for a brief while, considered making his way to the mainland.

But then, when he'd been spending some time in Kyoto and contemplating his next move, Kisuke had run across something that had changed everything.

He'd been sprawled out on a futon in the private suite of the inn he was staying in, scrolling through his phone and enjoying the calmness and solitude that came hand in hand with it being the off-season for tourism, and lamenting his inability to sleep.

Insomnia was truly one of his oldest companions. It had been born from the days when sleeping, when letting his guard down that far on the streets, wasn't safe and it had stuck with him throughout the rest of his life, coming and going in random spurts as he grew older.

Finally, just a bit frustrated, he'd dropped his phone onto his chest, autoplay turned onto the ASMR he normally used. It, like most other ASMR videos he'd tried over the years since he'd been introduced to the concept, only worked about 33% of the time but it was better than nothing.

If all else fails he can meditate for a while and contemplate his next move. He'd just arrived at this inn the night before but he was already feeling restless. He hadn't been able to stay in one place for longer than a few days since he left the Shihōin. Nowhere had felt right, had felt secure and comfortable enough to settle down in for longer than that.

The video that he was listening to, a soft murmuring voice reading from one of the latest scientific journals Kisuke enjoys, ended and there was a moment of silence as the next loaded.

"Top 10 Most Romantic Shakespeare Sonnets," an unfamiliar warm and husky voice murmured from Kisuke's phone then. "Sonnet 18. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temper-"

Kisuke abruptly went rigid, hair standing on end and senses electrified.

"Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May," the voice continued softly, soothingly. "And summer’s lease hath all too short a date."

And then, just as quickly as the tension came, Kisuke's spine abruptly melts.

By the time the voice has made it through the first seven sonnets Kisuke is deeply asleep.

~~~

Kisuke wakes up the next morning feeling more refreshed than he can remember feeling in years, if ever, with his phone dead and that voice still somehow ringing in his ears.

He only lets his phone charge enough to be able to turn it back on before he's pulling up his account and going through his history to get back to that video.

He likes it and even goes ahead and subscribes to the account that posted it. StrawberryProtector is kind of a cutesy name for an ASMR account with such a voice but Kisuke's absolutely seen weirder.

It might have been a fluke but Kisuke's enough of a lover of science that he's willing to give the channel a try tonight as well.

~~~

Only no, as it turns out, it's not a fluke.

Kisuke's gotten the best sleep of his life this week and it's all thanks to StrawberryProtector's absolutely delicious voice.

No matter what the content of the video is, from more Shakespeare to Takajo to various other poets and once even a cookbook, Kisuke finds himself relaxed and drowsy within ten minutes.

He's more than a little obsessed.

And it's not like he has much else to do these days.

So it's only practical that Kisuke pull out his laptop and do a little bit of digging.

~~~

An hour and a half later with Kurosaki Ichigo's life spread out on the screen in front of him, Kisuke knows that he's in love.

Looks like his next stop is going to end up being Karakura Town.

[ushijimaschubbs]

thinking of ushijima big rough hands kneading your boobs desperately while he has you pushed against a wall next to the sink. he couldn't resist himself when he saw you in that cute little apron of your tied tightly over your plump love handles that he can't help but squeeze ever so often while he has his 2 digits deep buried inside you. you're moaning his name as your face is buried in the crook of his neck while he hits your soft spot repeatedly, making you cum on his fingers for the third time tonight.

"ushi-ngh please I can't tak- aah"

"so gorgeous for me baby be a good girl and take me deep inside you okay? look at you cumming thrice even before i fuck you with my cock"

"just fuck me already"

"patience, my love"

[raymurata]

Writing is not even a choice. I anguish, my soul languishes; I find escape in pain that isn't mine, my chest grows tight at night, it's suffocating. I grip the bars of my cage, my flesh, my past -- years go by too fast, I yearn for a future I do not have and cannot bear a minute here, now. This second is too slow. I watch the sages sit in quiet contemplation but my silence is seeped in suffering. My gaze goes up in awe at those that do not want to scream; Be like them, I tell myself, deny myself, letting these yells echo in the chambers of my mind. Don't you envy those who let their screams be heard? I do. I do. I do. But I do not want to be seen. I need to! I cry, I whine, I tear and I thrash. Writing is not even a choice.

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Fixed: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 4 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 3: Love So Soft

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s shorter than my usual updates but I’m busy so sorry for the delay. My final exam dates have come and all I can do is pray right now lol. Please pray for me if you can, this sis is out here writing fanfics for yall instead of studying so, haha. ANyways, enjoy babies! Shit happens in this chapter.

Warning: Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Word count: 5K

Chapter 4: Fixed

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. Your hands shook every time you got a flashback and even though you were numb to emotions that entire day, tears threatened to spill whenever your mind took to you to that overpriced kitchen again.

Now that he had gone to a dangerous and unnerved assaulter from a Dad trying to take care of his daughter, your mind wouldn’t put anything past him. You knew that in the back of your mind that he was a mobster and your ‘friendship’ was alarming to say the least, but now there was no denying his resources and power and the very obvious threat to your life lingering in the air.

At least before you had the luxury to be oblivious and ignorant, not anymore though. Steve felt even more unhinged and liberal now, even messaging you daily, greeting texts that you obviously ignored. He knew you both were aware that you never handed him your number and he felt no need to hide his pursuit.

You read most of the messages, not bothering with a single reply though. You tried to block him but somehow your phone would still receive messages from his number, even though his contact would always peek back at you from the otherwise empty blacklist.

As if his torment wasn’t ample, another message thread from a different number would forward you alarming images, photos of Grace in her daycare, on a class trip to the park and even her playing in your backyard. You had no doubt that this was another game of his to show you his resources.

You skipped daycare for a few days, your mental health worse than it was after the carnival attack, because now you had a personal tormentor and you cursed yourself for falling into this mess. At times, you believed it wasn’t your fault really, you just helped a kid and this situation spiraled itself but what would pointing fingers now get you? The harsh truth was you were in a calamitous situation now and every step from now on had to be thought out.

So, you let Grace attend her daycare and acted if nothing was amiss or altered, after the few initial breakdown days of course, kept going to your job and earning the bread. You considered your options, you really wanted to go to the cops or a higher fair power but those were few these days, almost non existent in your city. You also vaguely recalled meeting three of the Captains of the PD at Sarah’s birthday, all smiley and doe eyed for Steve. You knew they wouldn’t help, fucking kiss-asses.

Maybe you would have to move somewhere else, perhaps to your hometown, at least till things cooled down or better yet were forgotten? But that trail was very predictable and you didn’t want your parents in this mess.  

You also came to know that Steve had inserted himself in the other spheres of your life. You were sure your location was always being sent to him, the knowledge a courtesy of the black car following you while you travelled to home at some late day’s end.

Aiden told you whereabouts were easy to track, when you inquired ambiguously. Another instance was when you went to the bank to deposit cash for your debit card, you came face to face with an enormous amount already there. Somehow, the limit on your credit card was also extended. How, you knew. The clerk told you about an email you must have gotten in regards to it, you dismissed that justification away and told them to not accept the cash. To sum the discussion, they weren’t helpful and had no policy against anonymous donors.

Aiden, your trusted coworker cum pal, sensed the shift in your aura and fidgety form very easily, pestering you with questions and you decided to turn to him, stressed and tired and ready to do something. His questioning eyebrows made you confess vaguely but you refused to tell him the extent of it. Just that his prediction came true and you needed help. Let’s just say, Aiden was a good man.

With time, Steve’s ‘affectionate’ messages became deranged, and you found it harder to act nonchalant in your daily life. You were thankful he didn’t come to visit you, possibly occupied with the rumored war between the mobs. You just prayed for a few more days of ignorance, just enough time to think and do something.

“What do you mean someone collected her?!” You had a hard time controlling your voice, you were about to burst, in tears or with anger, you didn’t know.

“The man was verified in the emergency contacts and we got a letter signed and approved by you to skip the day an hour into the first activity.”

“A man? Emergen-, wait no! What fucking approved letter?”

You had three emergency contacts, your mom in another state, Aiden, and one of the other kid’s mom you had grown close to. Aiden was with you at work all day, so did someone disguise themselves as him? And what was the deal with the letter signed by you? You surely didn’t remember writing and authorizing one.

The boy, Pietro, who had been the receptionist for as long as you could remember, shuffled through the chaotic piles of paper and presented a letter to you, and your blood froze as your eyes skimmed the font.

Your beautiful cursive stared right back at you and you knew that no one would ever be able to distinguish between this penmanship and the one in the pocketbook in your clutch. No one but you. Even though you knew you had not written it, the slightly different ‘f’ and ‘g’ told you everything.

Your signature at the bottom though, was done quite perfectly and that made you even more scared.

“I did-, I didn’t write this! What the-” Your widened eyes met Pietro’s from above the paper but all he offered you was a meek smile. Your hands shook with rage and for the first time in your life, you had the urge to slap someone really bad.

“Maybe your family had an emergency to take he-”

“No, you don’t get it!” You stopped yourself from getting frantic, willing yourself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Today of all days, things had to mess up.

He didn’t know you had no family in this city, that you had a mobster after you or the subtle threats that his hired spy sent to you.

Was going to the police an option? Aiden already told you that the cops were as good as Steve’s men. But this was about your missing kid! You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. And you were giving Steve way too much credit, what if he wasn’t behind this all? Come to think of it, what if the other number wasn’t his?

Relax yourself! Thinking of disturbing theories wouldn’t help anyone. You thought you should go to the cops, just in case. No mentioning of Steve, just a woman with a ‘missing child’ report.

‘Missing Child’ left an acrid taste behind and you were too close to a breakdown, but your whole journey of single-parenthood taught you to kick vulnerability aside, well most of the times.

You turned and were about to leave, but Pietro stopped you. “If you are going to the cops Ma’am, they require 8 hours of inactivity or disappearance time for kids under 5.”

Well look who just read your mind.

You huffed and kept the tears at bay, your mind thinking of what to do then? Grace was obviously taken-

“How could you let a toddler leave without informing the parents?” You knew your anger was channeling out at the wrong man but didn’t he all but hand Grace to the stranger?

You beat him answering and inquired, “What did the man look like? Do you have any footage? Anything?” The wrinkles in your forehead and stress creases on your face paired with the eyebags betrayed your age surely. You were sure you had aged more this week than an entire decade, juggling your normal life with the hovering threat.

“You shouldn’t be this worried Ma’am.”

The fucking audacity.

“Your daughter recognized him, she all but ran to him and this other little girl he came with. You should maybe ask your parent-friends around? A blonde family perhaps?”

As all the emotions drained from your face and terror took over, the young lad in front of you looked smug. You wondered as if you imagined the faintest of smirks on his face.

You crumpled the letter in your hands, seething with rage as you stepped in your car. Oh, you were mad, more wrathful than ever. You could take any hits on you, any threat but not on Grace, never on her.

You were stupid, you had already decided you wouldn’t put anything past him but unknowingly, you did put this past him. You thought this man had a shred of decency to not use your kid in this adult war, being a parent himself and all but what a surprise! You were wrong.

You drove to your home, your thoughts a mix of trepidation, anxiety and fury. You were scared of him and his reach and resources but if he put Grace in any type of danger; whether to teach you a lesson or use her as bait or both, there’d be consequences.

Lord knows you killed a man a month ago Grace was threatened.

You had one thing to do before contacting Steve about Grace but you never got to do it because unexpectedly the bastard was in your home. In your home.

The black sports car outside was a huge giveaway but your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door with your house key. The banter and giggles from inside alarmed yet calmed you; the dread of confrontation and the assurance of Grace’s safety reigned your mind.

As the door opened painfully slow like a horror movie, the sight that met your eyes made you sick with a feeling of failure. It wasn’t gore or blood or grunge, it was Steve bouncing Grace in the air and catching her while Sarah twirled around in the living room.  

This man was craftier than you thought, every action of his was calculated, each a refined step. You had been so preoccupied to avoid direct encounters with him in your little family’s life that you didn’t think he had other ways. He was always looming around with Sarah and as Grace began to trust Sarah, she consequently began to trust her blonde guardian too.

As you slammed the door behind you, Steve’s eyes snapped to yours and his smirk made you want to punch him so hard. The smugness on his face while he let Grace down without breaking eye contact told you he had no regret, no remorse. In fact, he was loving every second of this cat and mouse chase between you two.

You were a millimeter close to losing your shit, the only check being the kids in the room. But you were mad and he was going to know it.

“What the hell, Steve? Messing with my kid?” You threw your clutch onto the couch, Steve haughty by the reception of his sent message but still holding back because of the kids. He called Wanda and you didn’t really notice where she came from but you did register Steve asking to take the girls to the park for a ‘private discussion’.

As Grace passed by you, you grabbed her arm lightly, making her look at you with doe eyes resembling yours. You gave her a smile trying to ease her, but you knew she was smart enough to sense the change in the atmosphere.

Apparently, the whining Sarah wasn’t.

You looked back to Steve, your hold still on Grace and continued with a frown and raised eyebrows, “She isn’t going anywhere, not out of my sight and obviously not with you or your goons.”

Wanda had the audacity to look offended and you scoffed at her, eyes staring Steve’s down.

“Honey, I don’t think the kids should hear what I think you have to say right now.” He said nodding to Wanda to take Grace.

“You must be deranged to think I trust Grace near anyone even remotely related to you! Take your people and get out.” You held your hand up to stop Wanda and pointed towards the door with the most menacing glare you could form.

Grace looked incomprehensibly between you two, concern and confusion on her face. That might have been the first time such a tone was used in your household. The grumbling Sarah was close to throwing a tantrum, irritated by the change in the playful air or the lack of attention to her, you didn’t know. She was hanging on Wanda’s forearm, her feet slipping on your printed rug. Wanda was trying to not look hurt still by your previous statement, distracting herself by the blonde kid and you were baffled by her obliviousness to all this.

Steve, the beefy blonde Lucifer, was furious and seething. His white knuckles and ticking jaw were the most obvious giveaways, the fingers just itching to beat the shit out of someone no doubt.

Was he imagining striking you into compliance into his weird playhouse game complex? You wouldn’t be surprised given the extent of his attempt to ‘win’ you over.

The ‘get out’ tone and blatant disrespect was a bruise to his ego for sure, and by you, a middle-class woman nonetheless was a worse injury. Steve was the deadly boss to armored men in the vicinity, the kids’ father figure, according to him, and Wanda’s stern yet kind employer.

People had been killed for less and there you were, standing in all your glory, being the only person alive to reject Steve Rogers and now, the only to raise your voice at him.

You almost scoffed at his impudence to look offended, what did he expect? For you to submit to him after the stunt he pulled? His reach was scary he proved today and that any future with him in your life in any way, was a fearsome possibility to entertain but you’d be damned if you went down without a fight.  

“You can’t make me leave; we both know. You don’t have the physical edge nor the mental one. I have no problem drawing out G-U-N-S in front of the kids or to throw the warnings around, although I would prefer not to.”

Your free hand itched to slap him, like how his did minutes ago. It wasn’t a mankind problem about men thinking they were entitled to everything; it was a Steve Rogers’s problem. Of course, with him consent didn’t matter. If he had a ‘housewife, kids and fences’ fixation, he’d make it come true.

“Do you even listen to what I say? Or your own words even? Please, go ahead! Traumatise my kid and also yours in your wooing process! Why are you so obsessed? Leave us alone, you freak! I just ignored few messages!” You had a hard time maintaining your cool, if there was any left. You were sure you were scaring Grace and no matter what happened next, you knew she was already traumatized by this entire ordeal already. You were so sorry, so, so, so sorry to your poor baby caught in this mess.

You knew, no, you hoped, he wouldn’t pull out the gun, his actions at the carnival a proof, you remembered how he hid his gun on finding Sarah. That threat was empty but the next one wasn’t, his words making you freeze in your spot.

“I think you keep on misunderstanding me, sweetheart. I don’t make empty promises,”

Posh word for threats.

“For starters, maybe I should pay my future in-laws a visit in their blue duplex. They might need help with the vast garden they have, it is the season for ‘violets’, isn’t it?”

As you froze with your parents being brought up, he also cooled, albeit differently, smirking once again gaining the upper hand, not that he lost it if you were being honest.

“Isn’t threatening my kid enough for you, Steve?” You hated how your loud voice almost broke, your anger slowly subsiding into helplessness and you hated that. You hated his guts, his entitlement, his claim; everything about him.

“You still don’t see it, do you? Our family of four is the most important thing to me right now and I’m not above doing anything to save it.”

“There is no family of four Steve! I keep explaining and you keep coming back to square one with all this bullshit!” The curse word did tick Steve off but he would correct that later, when bigger things weren’t at ploy.

“Your ignorance makes me a little mad sometimes sweetheart and that is why I have to do all I do. You haven’t realized we need each other yet, but I’m staying until you do and even after that, I promise. You know how much it pissed me off to see your tickets and the packed suitcases after I’ve been nothing but nice? I was so generous to spoil you with my riches but instead I find that in your finances.”

This fucker knew. Of course, he did!

You were wondering in the back of your head what had prompted this visit with so many threats and warnings and anguish. He was pissed even before you ‘acted out’, he tracked the tickets and the plan and that meant he even tracked-

“You have so much to learn, but luckily you interact with quite a few people. I am most tempted to start out with this Aiden guy, trying to be the hero and giving you all the ideas. Maybe I should visit him?” Steve wondered out loud, and you flinched at his suggestion, hating how you were trapped by this man.

You couldn’t live with yourself if anyone got hurt because of you, be it your parents or Aiden or any other possibility Steve would come up with. Of course, Grace was your peak priority but you doubted he would hurt her as he threatened to harm them.

“Steve, please.” The fire was almost out, your hands trembling, Grace worried and Steve smug.

“Let the kids go and I think we can come to a conclusion.”

“Steve this needs to stop.” You said, your breaths heavy and helplessness clawing away at you.

“I won’t repeat myself.” He voiced out with a threatening edge, gesturing to Grace and Wanda, clearly telling you to first get the kids out.

For a deranged fucktard, he sure cared about the kids a lot.

You loosened your hold on Grace, patting her arm softly and nudged her to Wanda. Wanda received her little hand and enticed the kids with the promise of ice-cream. Sarah clapped her hands and as the trio left, Grace did look over her shoulders at you in concern and for permission, majorly in concern though. You nodded and waved, a tear dropping as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were still staring at the door, not wanting to meet Steve’s stormy blue orbs when he began, “Today was a slip up that I won’t tolerate again. Neither the cursing nor the dramatics.”

We aren’t in a fucking play, what the fuck is he labelling as dramatics?

Your eyes slowly flickered to his, and you had a hard time not letting the tears escape except the one traitorous one earlier. The fatigue, the worry of Grace’s disappearance, the threats to your friends and family were all catching up to you. It took all in you to stay strong and not fall down right now.

“Steve this isn’t funny anymore. It’s sick and you know it! I just said no! Was that so inexcusable that you had to follow up with this? You have violated me for that, broken into my home and now kidnapped my daughter! At what extent will you stop?” You broke down finally, arms a flailing mess as fat tears rolled down. Nothing scared more than the helplessness this moment. He won and he knew it. The carnival incident was nothing in comparison to this. The only good thing you could hope in all this was a safe Grace but that too only if you complied, which seemed like what you would do now given your attempts at fighting back and scampering have failed laughably.

“Gosh, I forgot how theatrical women are. You are smart darling; you know what I want from day one, just a happy family. Nothing that horrendous has happened and especially not as badly as put it. I’m just looking out for you and me in the long run.” Steve slowly treaded towards you, his hand extended to pat your arm comfortingly but you involuntarily flinched at contact and stepped back. Steve clearly didn’t like that as he caught your arm in a bruising grip and jerked you towards him. Manhandling you as your wet hands rushed to ease his grip was not a tough task for Steve, a surprise to none.

“Stop trembling like I’ve actually done something to harm you!”

Steve clearly didn’t know how to comfort women and it showed.

You stopped with the cowering away, even though it disgusted you to be this much in close proximity with your assaulter. He clearly had anger issues and no clue how to solve them. You needed to steer the conversation right and get him out. You could see your hands visibly shake as you put them on his chest, just to create some distance and in a way of surrendering to not fight. The tears slowed but you don’t think they stopped; it was hard to tell with a million other things on your mind.

As your eyes made contact, Steve loosened his grip, clearly a bit satisfied by your submission, as he began counting to help you breathe. As much as you hated to admit, it helped you and you got a flashback to the time when you freaked out on him about Grace at that extravagant dinner date. That was a sweet gesture then, not so sweet now. Funny how drastically things change with time.

It wasn’t so much Steve’s help as it was your own mind telling you to be fucking smart about the whole ordeal right now.

“Good. Better. Now let’s talk. Why were you planning to run away? I’ve been busy and coming home to find out that wasn’t joyful, you know.” His smile suggested a better mood than before but his voice, his husky voice always had this daring edge that almost challenged you to defy him but at the same time warned you of unpleasant consequences if you did.

“Steve, I’m scared.” You spoke with utmost honesty. “The part of the world you associate yourself with scares me. You can’t blame me for not wanting that life for Grace, I mean you have a kid of your own. Wasn’t the carnival attack specifically on Sarah?”

The reasoning was right but you knew you triggered him the moment his smile evaporated. He either felt insulted as a parent or disrespected in his profession or probably both.

He was fighting his inner demons already and you pointing it out was a slap to his face, a hit he didn’t want to take.

“That was a slip up, I admit. Never again. I’m only human, okay?” He convinced himself and you, his grip tightening a bit again.

Oh no, not the right direction to take.

You reckoned he still had nightmares about it like you, he really did love Sarah a lot, all things aside.

“Besides, I am looking out for you! Out for you and Grace and Sarah. I remember my promise of never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

You definitely didn’t trust his security or his people because what sort of a mobster let his daughter get targeted and possibly abducted? You definitely didn’t know the whole story or if it was just a bad day but he wasn’t a person that deserved some slack. Despite all this, you knew what all he held above you, above a common man. He might not be ‘Kingpin’ skilled but a threat to you nonetheless.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Is that what you call following me around, huh?” which you immediately regretted.

“Trust the process, baby. Everything is just to protect you.”

Is that what he called stalking even Grace around and twistedly enough, sending you proof of that? The anonymous thread of photos was another nightmare of yours, thanks to him. The last being a candid photo inside Grace’s room, her sleeping in her bed this morning and that’s when you decided you needed to get out. Of course, that didn’t go as planned.

“How am I supposed to do that when you have cameras in my house?!” You scoffed and he reeled back at the accusation, having the nerve to look impressed at being uncovered and caught red-handed.

“Oh my fucking God, it was you! You sick pervert!” You jumped out of his grip, your eyes wide and horrified. “I wasn’t aware of what to make of it but of course, it was you! Who else would be sick enough to do that?” You let out a humorless chuckle. You always put things past him even when you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. When will you ever learn huh?  

You were full on panicking yet again, this man was an assaulter, a stalker and a creep too. It would have made a good dark, psychological thriller for you to watch if you weren’t the protagonist about to suffer his obsession.

He reached out to steady you again, but you whipped and stumbled back, realizing too late that you elbowed Steve’s nose so bad that there was a crunch. That, right there, was the look a man real-fucking-furious on Steve’s face and now you could see the feared mobster, the man who was personally terrorizing you under the beautiful, Greek God façade.

Steve reacted so fast even with an injury that in a split second, your view of his face turned into a view of his crotch.

“You do realize that there are others ways for me to teach you obedience? I think it’s fucking time you show me your gratitude for my care and attention and apologize for your misconduct and unkind response.” Steve spoke with a hoarse voice, a voice running out of patience and just about done with defiance.

His hand fisted your hair, maintaining eye contact while he nodded between you and his crotch. You knew what he wanted, what he was expecting as ‘thanks’.

“Steve, please no, you don’t-”

His other hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you from speaking as he warned, “I think you have done just enough talking for today, so why don’t you put that tongue to a better use and show me how sorry you are. Better make it convincing because I’d hate to pay one of your friends a visit and then bitch about a nasty blowjob.” He smirked at the end of his monologue, eyes shining with triumph and amusement.

You wouldn’t let him harm anyone else, you couldn’t. You and your daughter were already knee-deep in a pit and at this point, it’d just be cruel to drag someone else in. With shaky hands opening his pants, you just hoped you could get Grace out before you eventually were buried in it.

“Now that’s a good girl. Submissive is a sexy look on you.” His hands patted your hair, playing with your tresses while yours pulled his pants and then briefs down.

His member jerked out, almost slapping you in the face as you recoiled at his insolence to get hard and erect at your torment. Your disdain must have shown which he took as admiration and derision to take his affluent cock in.

“No need to get shy, I have faith you’ll be able take it just as well in your pretty pussy as you will right now. Open up-”

“Steve, I beg you-”

Just as you had cut him off, he interrupted your pleading. Your gag reflex was probably the most efficient in the world but that turned this narcissist on. It had been years since you had done it, never with a man as beefy as Steve.

His taste was salty and if you had to put it into better words, it was the like overpriced sea salt flakes that you never bought. High and pricey and for the entitled.

Your hands clutched at his thighs as you blacked out multiple times; your jaw aching, uvula swaying and tears escaping. Him forcing himself on you brough a new sense of vulnerability as your body trembled. Steve relished like a sadist, practically rutting into you all by himself as you just sat there with your jaw unnaturally open.

His obscene moans and groans were crass and nauseating and you just prayed for this to be over soon and for no one to walk in on this, especially your kid.

It seemed like it would never end, your body dehydrating with all the spit it produced, the drool dribbling and landing just beside your knees on your printed rug. You would have to throw that out.

The tears stooped after some point, the sobbing an unnecessary action that just tired you out more on this eventful day. You moved your tongue around to prevent your teeth from scratching him when he shifted angles. If this was what he did on slightly mad, you didn’t want to find what he did for a more serious punishment.

Apparently, that action was something that turned him on even more, his breath hitching as neared closure. In broken whispers he demanded that again and you complied, wanting to get done with it.

He growled in the moment of his release and you tried to lean back but his grip didn’t relent. “Swallow.” His grainy, exasperated voice said out loud and you knew better than to defy.

He released you and you fell on to the rug, hip bruising by knocking into some furniture and tears coming back again after being hydrated by his seed. He packed himself, his smile smug and content as his expressions truly resembled ecstasy being personified.

“You be a good fiancée from now on and maybe you’ll have all your friends alive and present at our wedding. No cheeky business from now on, got it?” Steve hummed then and strutted out, not even bothering to listen to your reply.

As soon as the door slammed, your eyes closed and your demons danced again.

There was no right direction to take when you were stuck in a loop.  

[dndwithray]

Fans of DnD Rangers and the game Roadwarden, behold! I've put together a subclass of DnD 5e's Ranger and built it around the main character from the text-based adventure Roadwarden. Like the game, this subclass provides a lot of freedom in "forging your own path" as you get to decide when and where you gain certain class features along with what to do with said abilities once they're in your hand.

[okaywitheverything]

Can I request a Neji x reader where the reader is ANBU or maybe some other super classified group? Headcanons?

 Neji dating an ANBU member headcanons♡

A/N: I'm fairly new at hcs tbh so I hope you like them. Like and show love please Beautifuls. Peace out.

Neji would absolutely date someone who is a skilled shinobi, I don’t think in any scenario would he date someone averagely skilled in the ninja arts. (I’m not talking about marriage, because he would unquestionably indulge in arranged marriage with any sort of person if his clan demands that of him. He good like that, but if he has the choice to choose his partner he undeniably wants a good, level-headed skilled kunoichi.)

  He needs to respect his partner and I really don’t think he has reverence for anyone who takes the sparring and practicing lightly. The only way to even hold significance in Neji’s world would be to be remarkably diligent and meticulous in your field, preferably as a ninja.

That’s where you come in, since you are an ANBU member, the other missions you take/used to take without your identity concealed were accomplished with the same finesse, and the ones you executed with him made him acknowledge you.

With that acknowledgement came approval, which turned into admiration for your flairs and talents. When he got to know your beautiful personality and your radiant charisma, the thin line between admiration and adoration was crossed.

Neji needs good spirits and chirpiness in his life, no one can convince me otherwise. And since I believe Neji to be a traditional lad, there is no doubt he believes in soulmates (Destiny and that belief are borderline the same🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️)

Your relationship is kind of smooth, when he actually asks you out like a proper gentlemen with flowers and dinner, but that comes to an end sadly. When the dates are cancelled abruptly and you don’t contact him for days on end, the poor baby is confused, like tons.

He feels a smidge dejected and perplexed when you don’t provide him proper answers as well. And man, is he hurt. He truly thought you were the one for him (well it took him months to select you from the rest) and to see you don’t give him all your efforts saddened him.

Of course, that wasn’t the case, you were so tired of balancing the secret and Rank A missions and the severe injuries that had you in the hospital for days at end. And when he tried to break things up with you, the dam broke under the pressure and strain and you blurted the truth out to not let him snatch away the only solace you had, your only comfort in the stress filled life you led.

For a child prodigy, Neji felt so utterly stupid. He was so furious at himself for not figuring it out sooner. What good were his smarts if he wasn’t able to deduce that about his girlfriend? He was infuriated by his ignorance, but that was nothing in comparison to the heaps of relief that filled him.

He now fathomed the real reason behind every cancellation of your nights out, his worry multiplied a thousand times when he got to learn the stories of your scars. With every near death experience you recited with humour, his veneration for you amplified.

Five years into the future, as everything was out on the table between you and him already, I would certainly congratulate you both as you are for sure engaged now with a wedding date set, if not married already.

Even though no one else in your friend circle is aware of your secret, Neji is proud of you beyond words which more than compensates for your friends’ praises.

Sharing the secret with someone, after several years of  burying it, feels good. Because there is someone out there that recognises your efforts and the pride in his eyes to call you ‘his’ almost makes your assassin self cry.

And even though you miss some important anniversaries and date nights and family celebrations, Neji understands it all. The snide comments about your absence never really faze him, and he always has your back. He could never stab you in the back because he knew there is a possibility you might be getting stabbed out there for real, protecting these haters and him by risking yourself.

He does sleep very lightly, his mind anxious for your arrival in his subconscious state but he trusts that destiny brought you home every time and he trusts that it will again.

A/N: thanks for making it to the end. Sending love your way.