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[charliepoopyfart]

I'm starving, darling

summary: you and Astarion decide to play a little game of hide and seek.

pairing: Astarion/f!Reader | Astarion/f!Tav rating: 18+ (MDNI) tags/warnings: blood drinking, explicit sexual content, porn with plot, predator/prey, smut, bodily fluids word count: 2.5k read on ao3: I'm starving, darling

a/n: english isn't my first language so please excuse any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors!

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"I'm home, my treasure." You slowly rose from sleep as these sweet words were whispered into your ear. You had no idea what time it was or when excatly he came home from one of his important meetings he now had on his schedule nearly ever other say since slowly taking over Baldurs Gate.

It started quietly, in the shadows. Getting invited to important political events wasn't hard now, you were the heroes of Baldurs Gate after all, the rest was fairly easy. Astarion slowly slipped into politics, barely noticeable at first - advising here and there, helping out and funding the restoration of the city. Now he sat in the High Council of Baldur's Gate, slowly filling the remaining seats with his people - his personal puppets, dancing just how he liked. No one noticed how influential he actually had become at first, until it was too late. He had slipped into every important part of Baldur's Gate - politics, finance, jurisdiction.

He was no merciless leader but people respected and feared him and that's all Astarion has ever wanted. The Ascended Vampire, a creature of night being able to walk in the blazing sun, enter homes uninvited and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh - most people didn't even dare to question him, it'd be foolish anyways.

You opened your eyes slightly, seeing Astarion towering over you on the bed, caging you in with his strong arms, the soft black, satin blankets clinging to your frame. He was still wearing his outfit from his earlier meeting - a black doublet with gold embroidery and matching slacks, gods how you loved that outfit on him.

"Good meeting?" you asked while slowly wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him close. Astarion immediately buried his head into your neck, breathing in your scent, placing gentle kisses over your collarbone.

"Mh-hm." he mumbled, still buried in your neck while he placed his hands on your waist, pulling yor body closer to him. "Such fools, all of them." Your gentle giggles were quickly interrupted by a moan as Astarion started to lick from your collarbone up to your ear, where he gently nibbled on your earlobe with his sharp fangs, making you shiver in anticipation - he was eager.

"How about some dessert?" Astarion whispered into your ear, making his way down your neck again, nibbling and kissing… he wanted to feed, obviously. You smirked, quite in the mood for riling him up a little.

"No." You simply said, grabbing his head and pulling him away from your neck. The look upon his face said it all - red eyes wide open in surprise, a mix of "what?" and "how dare you?" written all over his face.

"Oh, my love, your forget yourself. You're in no position to deny me. I know you want it, darling." Astarion whispered again in that deep, rumbling voice of his. You quicky jumped out of bed before he had a chance to pounce on you, making your way on the other side of the room, giggling like a little girl. Astarion smirked.

"Hmm, so you want to play a game, little love? Very well, I'll indulge you." He slowly unfastened the cufflinks on his doublet, sending you seductive looks - by the Nine Hells, this man was a vision. "So, how about this: you run and hide and I'll try to find and catch you. I'll give you a head start of 5 minutes, only within the palace, no gardens." He ran a hand trough his fluffy white curls and you nodded. "And when I catch you, you'll be all mine, like it's supposed to be." Astarions red eyes bore right into yours and you nodded. All his.

"Very well then, run off, my love. I'll see you soon." You immediately took off, running down the hall, figuring out where to hide. You knew the palace inside out but so did Astarion. You had to switch your hiding places after a certain time, that much was clear, you had to win! Astarion was a sore loser, so seeing the absolute disbelief on his face would be priceless. You suddenly heard the door of your shared bedroom shut in the distance, has it already been five minutes or was he cheating already?

You quickly hid in the old storage closet, it was fairly empty with the expetion of some old boxes and a few brooms, a bad hiding spot but it had to suffice for now. Astarion slowly made his way down the corridor, whisteling a gentle tune, already sure of his victory and thinking about all the delectable things he might do to you later. He continued to stroll down the corridor with his hands buried in the pockets of his slacks until he suddenly heard gentle movements from the laudry chamber next to him and smirked. How convenient. Sure it must be his little treasure inside, he ripped open the doors and stared right into the face of a shocked maid.

"Lord Ancunìn! How can I be of service?" she stuttered, right in the middle of folding the bedsheets, clearly not expecting his sudden appearance.

"Have you seen my consort, maid?" He snapped, already on edge. This was most embarrassing.

"I-i think Lady Ancunìn went further into the west wing, my Lord." Astarion slammed the door shut and made his way towards the west wing while you quietly removed yourself from the storage closet and headed into the opposite direction, quite sure of your victory but your inner celebration came to a quick halt as fast steps approached you. It was him but how? How did he know?

You quickly ran down the corridor and into Astarion's private study, the footsteps getting closer and closer. You were pretty sure that he used his vampiric powers to find you - that cheating bastard, he just couldn't bare to lose this silly, little game. The study didn't offer any good hiding spots either but you had no way out, Astarion was propably right behind you, you'd be running straight into his arms and you'd never hear the end of it. You slilently tucked yourself into a corner of the room, casting invisibilty just in time as the door swung open and Astarion stepped in, looking quite confused as the room appeared empty. He slowly shut the door, locking it - he knew you were still here.

"You can come out now, little love. There is nowhere to go." He chuckled, walking across the room and settling himself on the edge of his desk, leaning slightly back, waiting patiently - he knew the invisbility spell you propably casted was going to wear off soon. He proceeded to teasingly unbutton his doublet, eyes glancing across the room. By the gods, you wanted him but you were not ready to give up just yet, you still had about thirty seconds of invisibility left.

You quietly snuck to the door and teleported yourself out of the room - Astarion immediately noticed and ran after you, the doublet now open and his bare chest on full display. He saw you run across the corridor right in front of him as your invisibility slowly faded and let out a dark chuckle, he was enjoing this hunt massively. While your stamina was not bad, you were terribly aware that you could never outrun a Vampire, let alone an ascended one, Astarion was letting you get away with it, he was playing with you. You sprinted around the corner and came face to face with a wall, shit. You forgot that you closed off the entire wing that led down to the ritual chamber, only Astarion was able to enter and said Vampire was now right behind you, slowly getting closer and closer with a predatory smile.

"There you are, my little treat." You pressed your back against the wall, giving him a shy look, hoping you might get away with it. "Now, don't be coy." This was obviously not working, he seemed to be immunue to your charm so you had to beat him at his own game, that was your only hope now so you let him approach, playing the part of the poor, weak consort who just lost their silliy little game, his own damsel in the distress who needed a big, strong Vampire Lord to save her day. Astarion's protectiveness and his need to play your big, strong consort was a major turn-on for both of you. He loved to show off how powerful he was in comparison to you, knowing he could easily overpower but keep you safe anytime.

"Aww, don't pout." Astarion teased. "Don't you dare to give me an attitude now, my pet." He pressed you further into the wall, sure of his victory. You gave him a coy smile, placing your arms around his neck and Astarion was sure you were about to give in but you suddenly slipped down, crawling through his spreaded legs, freeing yourself and running away, laughing.

"Cheeky little pup." Astarion chuckled. "You want to play dirty? Fine, 'cause I love it dirty." He used his powers to teleport himself right in front of you, managing to elict a shocked gasp out of you.

"Cheater!" you yelled, ready to push him away but he immediatly grabbed your hands, pulling you into his naked chest.

"You're quite the insolent little pup today, my treasure." Astarion pushed you into the nearest wall, securing your arms above your head with one hand while the other made his way down your body, immediately cupping the sensitive spot between your legs - you let out a loud gasp. "My my, is this getting you all excited, my pet?" He leaned closer, whispering in your ear now. "Is this getting you all wet?" Astarion pushed his thigh between your legs, settling you down while still pressing you against the wall, making you whimper with need. He grabbed your hips and began moving them up and down his thigh, creating a dangerous friction between your legs and you let the most pathetic moan escape our mouth, Astarion laughed.

"Look at you, precious thing, you do want this." He gently nuzzled your neck, teasing the column of your throat with gentle kisses and the occasional suck while you continued to grind on his thigh, working yourself up more and more. Your sweet moans were nearly enough for him, he quickly freed himself from his slacks, giving his already hard cock a few gentle strokes while he continued to lick that delicious throat of yours. Your breath started to quicken, you were close and Astarion removed his thigh and pushed your dress up to your hips.

"By the Nine Hells…" he breathed as he saw your black thong, all lace, his absolute weakness. He deftly pushed the flimsy material to the side and ran a gentle finger through your folds, gathering some wetness before settling on your bundle of nerves, cicling it slowly.

"Oh Astarion…I'm gonna…" He immediately removed his fingers, one hand cupping your breast instead, gently teasing your hard nipple with firm, circling strokes of his thumb while the other one grabbed the base of your throat, applying gentle pressure, not enough to completly cut off your air supply but just enough to be noticeable.

"Oh no, my love, not yet." The hand teasing your breast moved downwards, grabbing his hard cock once more and slowly guiding himself closer to your aching pussy. He gently coated himself in your juices, letting the head run through your slit, teasing you and making you whine in anticipation before pushing just the tip inside of you. It took all of his strength not to take you hard and fast right now but he intended to drag this out, make you suffer.

"Astarion…fuck…." you whimpered, trying to move your hips closer to his, to slide him all the way inside but he kept you pressed against the wall.

"Tsk, tsk, good girls ask before they take what they want. You are my good girl, aren't you, precious?" he teased, gently cicling your clit with his thumb, biting his lower lip with his fangs on full diplay. You nodded vigorously. "Then tell me."

"Please…please, Astarion…"

"Please what, my love?"

"You've won! Please fuck me!"

"Well, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" He smirked arrogantly, placing gentle kisses on your neck again before finally sheathing his fangs into your throat and pushing his cock inside of you. Astarion moaned gently around your throat, sending shivers down your spine as he took generous gulps of your blood while pushing in and out of you at a tantalizing slow speed.

"That's a good girl." He felt your pussy flutter around him - gosh, the praise was really doing it for you and your blood began to taste even sweeter - your impending climax so close he could practically taste it.

"Fuck, you're being so good for me, my pet." Astarion took one more gulp before freeing his now blood-stained fangs from your neck, licking across the puncture marks to clean them. He now stared right into your eyes with his beautiful red ones, continuing his sweet, sweet praise while he slowly pushed in and out of you.

"You like that, don't you? The way my cock feels inside of you, like you were made for me." All you could do was moan and cling closer to him. "Fucking. Perfect." He slid out and pushed back in hard with every word, he was slowly losing control, getting closer and closer.

"Yes, my love, that's it." Astarion praised as he felt your pussy getting tighter. "Come for me." You saw stars as he started to tease your clit oh so gently once again and shattered around him. You felt yourself gushing, coating his cock with your release and blushed but Astarion seemed to quite enjoy it.

"Oh my pet, you've made such a mess for me, fuck…" His thrust were getting harder, sloppier, his breathing quickened. You placed your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer while resting your forehead on his, gently moaning.

"Please come inside me." You begged breathless, knowing this might send him over the edge. Saying that Astarion had a breeding kink might be far-feteched, he wasn't fond of children, he didn't even particularly like them, not to mention that a Vampire can't sire children, not even an ascended one but the thought of your pussy dripping with his release was enough. You pushed yur hips against his, helping him along and placed one of your hands on his defined chest, gently teasing his nipple.

"Oh fuck, little love, I'm gonna come…" Astarion's moan was the most beautiful thing on earth, you thought, you loved how vocal he was during sex, never above mentioning how good he felt or letting the occasional dirty talk slip in. Sex with Astarion was far from boring or vanilla. "Fuck." he nearly whimpered as he spilled inside you, his sloppy thrusts coming to a halt, his chest now pressed right on yours. You felt his hot breath on our neck as he buried is head into your shoulder, slowly coming down from his height.

You slipped your hands in his soft, white hair, slowly massaging his scalp and playing with his curls, feeling quite content and relaxed.

"Bath, my love?" he mumbled into your shoulder, already grabbing the back of your thighs, hoisting you up into his arms. You nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you down the corridor.

[charliepoopyfart]

Safe (Peter Parker x reader)

summary: you deserve someone like peter, who will always keep you safe

warnings: mentions/signs of abuse

words: 1.4k

pairings: peter parker x reader

prompt: 13, “I won’t let anyone hurt you, you’re safe with me,” 49, “Who hurt you?” and 85, “Don’t lie to me,” from this prompt list

a/n: the numbers above were provided by a lovely anonymous request:) this is a tough topic so i tried to write this as accurately and as sensitively as i could. much love❤️

Keep reading

[charliepoopyfart]

Is he from New York, even

NO THOUGHTS JUST ANDREW MF GARFIELD IN A BLACK PUFFER JACKET

I'm unwell, the chokehold this man has on me-

[charliepoopyfart]

I’m not quite sure if this is too explicit so if it is please feel free to decline, but I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader who has a past with sexual assault so is kind of iffy and stand offish about sexual inter course? Again, all good if you can’t because it is a touchy subject ! I hope you’re having a lovely day/night !! (p.s. I love your writing so much :3)

Thank you gorgeous, love you <3

cw: trauma response, mention of past sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Sometimes you can feel left out. Of the easy way the boys touch each other, the knowingness they have of the other’s bodies, the in-jokes about intimate aspects of their relationship that aren’t secret from you but you’re not a part of. And you know in your bones, in that thrumming, impossible-to-ignore beat inside your ribcage, that you’re not ready to be a part of them, but it still hurts to have something about your boys that’s separate from you. Some part of them you can’t access, and it’s only because you won’t allow them access to you in return. 

And sometimes, like now, things go astonishingly well. Sometimes you can let them touch you while feeling nothing but the pleasant warmth of love and lust brewing like a potion in your core. Sometimes you can let yourself tug Sirius closer as he kisses you, can swallow the soft sounds he makes into your mouth without your mind taking you anywhere other than this bed, this boy. 

Sometimes you can get so lost in them it feels like the fear can’t find you. 

“Okay?” Sirius’ breathes, setting a tentative hand on the small of your back. He tastes like coca cola, and his lips are a manifestation of every soft and earnest part of him he never shows. “This okay, sweetness?” 

You nod fervently, trying very hard not to think as you tunnel your fingers into the featherdown silkiness of the hair behind his ear. 

“Yeah?” You’re growing quite sick of all his talking, persistent in your kisses even when Sirius breaks them. His mouth curves against yours, sensing this, and his hand settles more comfortably into the curve of your spine. “Alright, you’re in charge. Just let me know if anything’s too much.” 

You make a muffled sound of acknowledgement. Truly, logically, you feel safe with Sirius, the same as you would with Remus or James. It was his idea that you be on top, after Remus figured out that you feel most comfortable when you don’t feel trapped, after James was the one to initiate the conversation on how they can make you feel good while respecting your (admittedly, nebulous and often fickle) boundaries. You haven’t worked up the courage to do anything beyond kissing, and none of them have pushed you. Really, you’ve been the one doing the pushing, wanting more and more from the kissing until it’s turned into this, you and Sirius hiding from dishwashing duty with you on top of him and sucking his face like a dementor.

You grind your hips down into his, and Sirius’ chuckle rumbles through the both of you as he grabs a greedy handful of your ass. 

Your breath stills in your lungs. 

You still completely, actually, every inch of you rigid, from your bum under Sirius’ hand to your eyes, stuck closed tight. The only part of you that seems to get that you’re still alive is your heart, thrashing wildly inside the bars of your ribcage like it wants to escape when you can’t. 

“Shit.” Sirius’ hand flees upward, skimming up your back to safer territory below your shoulder blades. “Shit, sorry, baby. You okay?” 

You want to tell him yes, in every physical, objective, important way you’re just fine. But your breath is frozen solid somewhere between your throat and your lungs, and it won’t let you speak. 

“Sweetheart.” Sirius is starting to sound desperate, though he’s clearly trying to stay calm for your sake. He sets gentle hands at your waist, sitting you up while he eases out from under you. You expect you’ll move like a statue, but your arms move of their own mind once freed, wrapping tight around your middle. “You’re okay, baby, you’re safe. I’m so sorry, I was—I should have asked. I moved too fast, I didn’t mean to scare you. Can you talk to me, please?” 

“Sorry,” you manage. Something comes loose inside you. The air comes back to your lungs, you pull your legs up onto the bed, and laughter unspools from inside you like wire long coiled tight. 

Sirius doesn’t smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you like that. Are you okay?”

It’s now that James and Remus decide to come and see what you’re up to. At the sound of Sirius’ panic-tight voice, their footsteps hasten down the hallway. James taps on the doorframe and you turn to him so fast your neck clicks. His face is melded by a soft worry. 

“Everything alright?” he asks. 

You nod, but Sirius must signal something different from your other side, because James and Remus advance forward the way one might approach a feral kitten. 

“Are you okay?” Sirius asks again, voice cracking now that the other two are here. 

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” Remus says gently. “Maybe stop touching her for a bit.” You hadn’t even noticed Sirius’ hand gripping your leg, but its removal feels like you’ve lost a thousand pounds. You fight back a shiver. “She’s okay. Aren’t you, darling?” 

To hear worry in even Remus’ voice is significant, and you try to make yours even to counter it. “Yeah,” you agree. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” James promises, crouching in front of you and Sirius. You’ve nowhere to hide from his melty-soft gaze. “What happened?” 

“I went too far.” Sirius’ voice sounds like it hurts, scraping its way out of him. Your heart throbs in response. 

You shake your head, insistent and perhaps a touch too fast. “No, it wasn’t your fault. I was—I—I escalated things, and then it just—”

“Take a deep breath,” Remus instructs. 

“I’m fine,” you say again. 

“Please, sweetheart. Just try.” 

You do, for his sake, pushing air in and out of your lungs like you’re trying to inflate a balloon. They won’t get as full as you want them too, but it’s not until you try that your body seems to catch up to what’s been happening. You start trembling all over. 

“Shit.” Your voice thickens, tears threatening. “Sorry, this is so uncalled for.” 

“It’s not,” James says. “Can I—can I hold your hand, or are you not ready for that yet?” 

“Please,” you squeak out. 

He grasps your hand, and you squeeze tightly, breathing until the tears don’t press at your eyes so insistently. You hate that the ugly thing of your past is touching something this good. That it’s hurting people who aren’t you, like it’s a virus you caught and now you’re spreading it.

“It’s really not your fault,” you tell Sirius, turning to him. “I thought I could handle it.” 

“I shouldn’t have moved without checking,” he replies in a similar tone. “I’m so sorry, sweetness, I never want to scare you like that.” 

You shake your head. “You don’t.” 

A dense silence lapses, not uncomfortable but full of things unsaid. James’ hand is warm in yours. 

“Hug?” you ask Sirius. 

He looks surprised. “Are you sure?” 

You nod, extricating your hand from James’ to wrap your arms around his middle. Sirius is tentative at first, palms placed lightly on the high and low points of your back, but when you hold him tighter he reciprocates. You hear Remus whisper something to James. Sirius’ fingers press into your back, the tip of his nose cold where it squishes into your neck. 

Sometimes, they make you feel completely safe. 

[charliepoopyfart]

Between the Two - TodoBaku x Reader

Main Masterlist MHA Masterlist

TodoBaku x Reader (meaning Poly Relationship. Don’t like? Don’t Read. 😋)

Fluff and little Angst

Warnings: Nothing but Soft-ish Bakugo ahead 🥰

3300 words

+Two amazing men and one hard decision. Or is it? On a training mission, things go awry, leaving you and Todoroki badly injured. Bakugo is beside himself even if he won’t admit it. You have had a crush on these boy practically since the Sport’s Festival but never had the courage to speak up…or pick one. Turns out that isn’t the case at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Having feelings for two people at the same time is hard. Especially when one is an aloof, cold personality and the other is loud and short-tempered. Yet, I couldn’t help but fall head over heels with both. I didn’t have the guts to even thinking about confessing to them. Plus I wouldn’t be able to choose between the two. It didn’t help either that they didn’t get along with each other. Plus Bakugo and Todoroki wouldn’t go for a simple girl like me and I don’t think I could handle the rejection.

“Well fuck.” I heard Bakugo groan as we got off the bus. The three of us walked away and the bus drove off. I gulped as I watched it drive away, now alone with the two boys.

“How many places does UA have for training?” I asked out loud.

“Quite a few it would seem.” Todoroki answered. Bakugo scoffed as we walked for a few minutes. We had been taken outside the city limits to a river valley area for survival and reconnaissance training.

“Come on, we’re not here for small talk.” Bakugo growled. Todoroki looked at me and shook his head. We traveled in silence as we ventured towards the coordinates. I looked down at the GPS as we took a short break in a little grove. Bakugo was leaning back against a tree, foot propped up and Todoroki was kneeling, looking off in the distance.

“According to this, the mark is about…” The GPS in my hand glitches out. I tried to get it to work before it short circuited in my hand. “Ah!” I dropped the device and pulled my hand to my chest. It was stinging and numb in places.

“What happened?” Bakugo was in front of me in less than a second. He grabbed my wrist and brought my hand into view. I hissed as he touch a particular tender spot.

“The GPS short circuited in my hand.” I said. Todoroki came up and looked over my shoulder at my hand. “I did see that the mark was a few miles that way.” I pointed and took in big breath. I looked down at the GPS and toed at it. A cold sensation came across my injured palm. I gasped and saw Todoroki’s right hand over mine.

“Hopefully this helps.” He said. I nodded. Bakugo had picked up the device in the meantime. As we started walking again, a chill went up my spine. As if we was being watched. I stopped and scanned the woods around us.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Bakugo called back to me.

“I feel like we are being watched.” I said glancing at the two. I could see their guards go up. I went back to scanning the area. I froze when I saw a figure half hidden behind a tree. I met their eyes and saw a sadistic smile creep onto his face. “Shit!”

“Hope you’ve lived a full life because I’m about to end it.” The figure stepped out and I saw a sword grow from the wrist down. I got into stance as he got closer.

“Heh! You think you can take us down?” Bakugo yelled. I looked over my shoulder at the two boys. Todoroki was in fighting stance while Bakugo was just standing there un-phased. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Come at me, child!” The man said and broke into a run towards us. The sound of popping and the drastic changes in temperatures behind me told they ready. I activated my quirk and we charged forward.

~Time Skip~

Turns out there was more than the one man out here with us. There was at least a dozen other low level villains that accompanied him. We came out on top but not without a few injuries. I stumbled as we came to a small beach grove. I fell to the ground when my leg gave out.

“Shit, L/N are you alright?” Bakugo asked strained as he helped (carried) an unconscious Todoroki into the grove. He had a bad wound on his left side that was bleeding profusely while I just had a significant cut running down my right leg. Bakugo was relatively unharmed save for a few small cuts and bruises.

“Yeah, worry about Todoroki.” I motioned to the boy before I pulled myself across the ground to lean back against a tree. I maneuvered my leg carefully to set it down straight out. I watched as Bakugo set Todoroki down to lean back on a rock. He then pulled at the top of his hero costume to get to the wound.

“Crap.” Bakugo said under his breath. He pulled out his transmitter to try and contact the teachers but it was busted. All of ours were. He threw it to the side in annoyance.

“They were thorough, weren’t they?” I said with labored breath. He looked over at me and his eyes darted to my leg before meeting my eyes. I could see worry and near panic in his. A gasp drew both our attentions. Todoroki was coming too.

“What happened? Where are we?” He mumbled, trying to sit up.

“Stay down, Icyhot.” Bakugo lightly pushed him back down. They shared what looked to me a tender look. I cocked my head to the side in wonder and shock took over me when Bakugo reached up and cupped Todoroki’s cheek. He then ran a thumb across his cheek.

“Guys?” I said tentatively. Bakugo pulled away and cleared his throat, going back to Todoroki’s wound. Todoroki’s eyes landed on me with relief and concern.

“Are you alright, L/N?” He flinched but didn’t look away from me. I saw his gaze look over me and linger on my leg. I moved my other to interrupt his sight. He looked up at me disapprovingly before cringing as Bakugo removed pieces of debris from his wound. I flinched at the sound he made, biting my lip and looking away.

“Damn villains.” Bakugo growled. I closed my eyes as the pain in my leg got worse. I zoned out as the other two conversed quietly and Bakugo tended to the wound. I don’t know how much time passed until a hand on my shoulder pulled me out of my daze.

“Hey…” I greeted. He reached up and held my face in his hands. He looked over me. Concern was laced with his features.

“Anywhere else but your leg?” He asked. I shook my head. He nodded, taking one hand off my face to move the torn fabric around me leg. I cringed as the fabric drug over the wound, letting out a broken cry. “Shh. I know.” I felt his thumb trace my cheek. He was looking over the wound carefully when the last of my adrenaline drained from my body. I closed my eyes.

“Y/N?” I heard Todoroki but it sounded like he was far away. It got to the point where I couldn’t hold my head up, so I let it drop into Bakugo’s hand. “Y/N!”

“Hey, hey, hey. Stay with me, L/N.” I heard Bakugo beg and bring his hand back up. “Stay awake. Please.” His voice cracked.

“Bakugo, what’s going on? Is she alright?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” He was trying to get me to respond but I didn’t have the energy. “Come on, stay awake for me baby, please! Come on baby!” I think my mind was playing tricks on me because I swear I heard him say baby.

“Baku…Todo…” I passed out to the sound of them yelling for me.

I woke up with a groan and a throb in my leg. I tried to move but only flinched in the process. There was also a weight across my back that seem to keep my in place. I forced my eyes open but thought I hadn’t for a moment, it was so dark. My eyes adjusted to the dark, picking up on the moonlight that lit the area. The weight move across my back and I looked over to see Todoroki asleep and holding me into his right side.

“Huh…” I looked around and saw Bakugo sitting on a rock a few yards away. He was staring out over the river and gently tossing rock into the water. “Bakugo.” His head shot my way before he was up in a flash and running over.

“How are feeling? I know there isn’t much we can do for the pain but is there anything I can do?” He asked in a whirlwind. I reached out for him and he grabbed my hand tightly, bringing it up to his face. “I feel so useless right now. Both of you are hurt pretty bad and all I can do is…is sit here.” He sat down hard.

“You’re not useless, Baku…” I shifted and tried to sit up. He reached forward and helped me. “You’ll never be useless to me.”

“Me either.” Todoroki said quietly behind me. We turned to look at him. He reached his hand out and Bakugo gripped it tight. I looked between them and saw that tenderness again. A pang went through my chest. I pulled my hand away from Bakugo and looked away from them. In the corner of my eye, I saw his head whip towards me.

“Baby?” I stopped breathing for a second before slowly looking at him. I thought my ears were playing tricks on me earlier but now, I’m not so sure.

“Baby?” I whispered, looking at the two. They shared a look before those tender eyes I saw earlier were turned on me. The breath caught in my throat again.

“Yes, baby.” Todoroki said. He reached up and cupped my cheek. “We’re both in love with you. We have been for a long time.”

“It was a problem at first since we both wanted you. We fought more than usual and tried to do anything to put the other down.” Bakugo explained. He looked down ashamed. “But then we realized it was getting us nowhere. We also realized our feelings for each other.”

“So we coupled while also tried to think of a way to confess to you.” Todoroki said. I had seen Bakugo give a face of confusion before rolling his eyes at Todo’s terminology. “We knew it was a long shot that you would accept us both.”

“Since it’s not normal. Three people together?” Bakugo picked up where Todoroki left off. He tsked before looking down at our hands. “A long shot. More like impossible. We just wanted you to know…”

“Hey, hey.” I interjected when I realized where he was going. They looked at me surprised and expectantly. “Don’t go deciding what I think on your own.” I took a breath, looking out over the water. “I have been in love with you too. Both of you. For so long but I… I never said anything because I thought there was no chance that either of you would go for me.” It was silent for a minute.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Bakugo chuckled. I looked up at him. I saw nothing but love and admiration in his eyes. I turned to see the same in Todoroki’s. I bit my lip trying to hide a smile but couldn’t. I smiled wide while laughing a little.

“We wasted a lot of time didn’t we?” I looked up sheepishly. They smiled and looked at each other.

“Nothing we cannot make up.” Todoroki said running a thumb over my cheek. I nuzzled into his hand. Baku’s grip tightened on my hand. I looked over at him. He was looking at us with a soft smile.

“I like the soft side of you.” I whispered. He chuckled before giving me a playful look.

“Yeah? Well it’s only for you two.” He said. He reached up and cupped the back of my neck. He leant forward and kissed my forehead. I felt a kiss on my hand as well. I looked at my two boys before I noticed Todoroki flinching.

“How is your wound?” I asked. He looked down at his side.

“Could be better but I’ll live. Bakugo did the best with what he had, for the both of us.” I nodded and reached to push hair off his forehead. Baku got up and walked away. I finally looked around us. Only now did I realize that we were lounging against some sort of cabana. I looked at it before looking at Bakugo.

“What?” He was walking back with our water canisters we had. “I wasn’t going to leave you out in the open. Looked like it was going to rain and I didn’t want to deal with you being sick on top of injured.” He retorted. He handed us our water bottles and went to look at Todo’s wound.

“Definitely not useless.” I said. He glanced up at me before looking away bashful. Todo lifted Baku’s head by the chin before giving him a sweet kiss. I giggled at the blush that went across Baku’s cheek. His eyes darted between us.

“Shut up.” He growled under his breath. We both bit back a laugh. I shifted to get more comfortable. A tug on my leg caused me to freeze in pain.

“Ah.” I squeaked, gripping onto my knee. A hand immediately found purchase on my back as I heard shuffling.

“Careful, don’t move to much darling.” Todo said softly. Baku knelt in front of me. He helped me move back to where I was leaning on Todo’s uninjured side. I set my head back on his shoulder and he pressed a kiss to my temple.

“You’re hurt worse than me yet you’re comforting me as if you weren’t.” I felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.

“You’re leg is worse than you realize darling. Bakugo thinks they nicked your Achilles tendon.” My eyes widen in realization.

“Shit.” I said.

“Yep.” Bakugo said. He sighed before looking behind him. “I need to go and get Aizawa. There isn’t anything more I can do then make sure you’re comfortable. Damn. But I don’t want to leave you two here on your own with those shit head still out there.”

“Bakugo. I can still use my quirk and so can L/N. We are not entirely defenseless. Plus we don’t have to build a fire. I can keep us both warm. We’ll be okay for a time.” Todo assured him. Baku wasn’t completely convinced. “We’ll be okay. We are well hidden. Now go, just be quick and quiet.” Baku rolled his eyes at the last part.

“Fine. If I come back and find you two worse, I’ll maim you myself.” We laughed but agreed. He pressed a kiss to both of our heads before he was gone.

“Be safe.” I whispered.

“Don’t worry, darling. It’s Bakugo. You know how he gets. No matter reckless he is, gets the job done.” I shook my head in agreement before relaxing into him. He tightened his arm around me. “Rest now. He’ll be back before you know it.”

“Alright.” I slipped into an uneasy slumber.

The next time I woke up, I was in a bed. I groaned at the pulse that went through my head. I reached up and rubbing my temple. A hand gently pushing mine aside before taking over and also carding their fingers through my hair. I opened my eyes slowly to adjust.

“Good morning, darling.” I heard Todoroki whisper. I looked up at him. He was sitting next to the bed, leaning on his forearm. He was smiling down at me.

“Morning.” I said before nuzzling into my blanket. A soft groan caught my attention. I looked down the bed to see Bakugo asleep in what looked to be the most uncomfortable position ever. I giggled.

“Ridiculous, isn’t he?” Todo said chuckling. I nodded before turning on my back to sit up. A small pain came from my leg. I whimpered. “Careful. You’re leg still isn’t healed. You were to worn out for Recovery Girl to heal it properly.”

“How about you?” He leant back and lifted his shirt without hesitation. I blanched at his brazen act.

“Same situation but she was able to heal it to a better point.” I nodded, eyes lingering on his abs. I looked away as he let go of his shirt. Bakugo moved as he seemed to be waking up. He stretched, arms extending to full length as he looked around. His eyes landed on me.

“Hey baby. How are you feeling?” His raspy, morning voice sent a chill down my spine. He scooted closer and set a gently hand on my right leg.

“Better but my head is killing me.” I said, closing my eyes.

“I’ll go get Recovery Girl.” Todo said. He stood and leaned over to kiss my head. He walked behind Baku and gave him a peck too. Baku smiled and stood to switch seats. He pulled Todo’s chair even closer and leant on his forearms. He looked at me tenderly. He reached up and began rubbing my temple.

“I’m glad you’re okay. That you’re both okay.”

“Thanks to you.” I sighed and closed my eyes again. He started humming as I dozed. After a few minutes of this, two sets of footsteps walked back towards us. I lazily turned my head and saw Todo with Recovery Girl in tow.

“Hello there sweetie. How are you feeling?”

“My leg is throbbing lightly and I have a headache.” I shifted a bit and groaned. “Other than that I am sore.”

“As to be expected.” She hopped up on a chair and leant over the bed. She looked over me before activating her quirk. I cringed as her lips pulled away from my head but I felt better. She ran a few more test on both Todoroki and I before she let the three of us leave.

“Well that was an experience.” Baku said exasperated. I chuckle but agreed. I saw Todoroki nod. After another few minutes of walking, I stopped in my tracks. It only took a few seconds for them to notice and look back at me.

“Where do we go from here?” I said, looking at the pavement.

“What do you mean? We are heading back to the…”

“Not that Icy Hot!” Baku interrupted. It was silent for a moment.

“Oh.” I smiled at the boy’s coyness. He could be clueless sometimes. “Darling. I thought we made it clear by now. We both want you, very much.”

“I know that but…” I looked up at them. “Where do we do with that? Are we just friends? Are we more? Like a poly? Or are we…”

“Babe, babe.” Baku came up and held my face. “We can be whatever you want us to be. If you’re not ready right now to a take a step into a relationship with us, we can wait. If you want to take this so and start out with little stuff, we’ll do that to. If you want to jump right in, we’ll catch you.”

“It up to you.” Todo stood next to Baku. He replaced one of Bakugo’s hands so they were both holding my face. I smiled and reached up to hold their wrists. I thought about it for a moment before I launched myself at them, wrapping my arms around their necks in a hug.

“I don’t want to go slow but I don’t want to jump right in either. So something along the lines of a medium speed? All I know is I want to call both of you mine.” I felt their arms wrap around me and hold me tight. Todo rested his chin on top of my head and Baku nuzzled my hair. I relaxed into their arms, delighted I didn’t have to choose between the two.

Tags: @spicy-therapist-mom @dxnaii-rxse

[charliepoopyfart]

LOOK I JUST REALLY ENJOY THEIR FRIENDSHIP OK?? You can't tell me they wouldn't hang after their respective personal quests (spawn ending ofc)/emotional breakdowns over their own mortality

[charliepoopyfart]

Guiding My Heart

Pairing: Tav X Astarion, Reader X Astarion. Gender neutral. Content/Content Warning: Panic attacks, anxiety, fluff, hurt, comfort, kissing, 2200 words. Summary: You'd finally made it to Baldur's Gate, unfortunately the city overwhelmed you in ways you hadn't considered possible. Astarion finds you panic stricken, hiding beneath a bridge. He does his best to comfort you and guide you through the sunset streets back to camp. Author's Note: Hi guys thank you so much for the love on my last fic! Wanted to do a comfort anxiety fic, so please bear in mind panic attacks are depicted in here. Thank you again to Suri for the wonderful reads and edits!

The chance to regain your bearings never came, as you were flushed down the street by a torrent of people. You watched with garbled breaths as your companions navigated them easily, all while you were pushed back further.

Heart pumping, nerve tingling desperation took hold of you; the kind you’d only ever felt during the heat of battle. It was fight or flight, as you ducked into a bricked out dead end.

Were you dying? Your chest pounded and ached as though you were dying. Upon examining yourself, there was scarcely a wound to be seen. Checking yourself over for injuries only heightened your fear. What if it was poison? 

The numbing weakness in your legs grew, you clutched the wall for support. 

“Darling, darling? Whatever is the matter?” The sweet words of your lover filled the hollow of the underpass. 

You could only respond in the form of irregular gasps. Fingers, slender and cold, held steadfast to your waist. You gave up control and allowed them to lower you onto a nearby crate. He crouched down beside you and pried your balled up fist away from your heart, replacing your hand with his own. 

“Did something frighten you, my dear?” His forehead crinkled with concern, before being undercut by an attempt at humour. “I’ve only ever heard it beat that fast for me, but I suspect this time I’m not the cause.” He shot you a reassuring smile, belied by a tremble in his voice.

“Started panicking. Don’t know why,” you choked.

He looked at you sympathetically, before rising to his feet. “Won’t be a moment my dear, stay here.” And with that he ran off, back the way you came. You could hear murmurings outside. Those of your partner’s hurried reassurance and that of your companions, voices raised with concern and inquisition.

The voices began to die down, as did the palpitations in your heart. Astarion rounded the corner back towards you, but slowed his approach upon seeing your distress. He moved gracefully and feline, as if you were prey not to be disturbed.

You looked behind him worriedly, but were relieved when none of your other companions followed behind. They didn’t need to see you like this. You didn’t want them to see you like this. Ideally you didn’t want anybody here, but if it were to be anyone you were glad it was him.

“Now then.” He crouched down beside you, dabbing your forehead with a frilled cloth. Cooling relief washed over you as he held the palm of his hand against your temple.

“Feels good,” you sighed, leaning into his touch.

“Ah yes, I thought that might help. You’re terribly warm.”

His gentle touch and the soothing cadence of his voice were enough to calm you, but the unpleasant tingle of your limbs persisted, as did your erratic breathing.

“Sorry for all of this, Astarion.”

“For what?” he mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. You only just got back, you finally get to see it in daylight and I’m ruining it.”

“Don’t be silly! We’re hardly leaving tomorrow. I’ll have plenty of time to wander the sunlit streets.” 

Despite his reassurance, your eyes began to well. Something about the rise in his tone unsettled you and like a toddler crying over their parent’s temper, you began to sob.

“Shit,” he muttered, looking around desperately; his face an entanglement of hurt and bewilderment. “I didn’t mean to upset you, my darling.” His hands clamped over yours, desperate to provide you with any sort of comfort. “Did I do something wrong?”

You tried to speak, but all that came out were incoherent whimpers. He looked at you with panic stricken eyes, hands still holding firmly onto yours.

This wasn’t fair, he didn't know how to deal with this sort of thing. You were supposed to support him, you-

“My love.” He looked at you sincerely, a slight smile gracing his lips; one of those rare, genuine smiles, few ever got to see. “Let’s stay here a little while longer.” He planted a tender kiss on the corner of your mouth and held you close.

Tears of a new source began to flow and there was no holding them back. His fingers curled around yours; you were drowning and they were your anchor. You tried to wipe away your tears, but he wouldn’t let you.

“Gods, darling, no. Think of all that dirt and those… fluids- from your enemies I mean, not yours.” He pulled another handkerchief from his pocket (did this man just have an endless supply?) and gently, he dabbed at your eyes and cheeks.

“Thank you,” you sniffled.

“There we are.” He looked you up and down, appreciating his work. “All cleaned up! Shame about your makeup, but nothing we can’t fix.”

Red soreness blazed across your cheeks and seared your eyes with swollen intensity. A quick glance into a nearby puddle revealed the inky smear that enveloped your eyes. Gods, what a sight you were and yet he looked at you with such affection.

You lamented his hands detaching from yours, until they returned to your thigh, stroking soothing circles up and down your leg. Lodged deep within the pulsating heart of the city, you'd finally found your pocket of serenity. Unfortunately your respite was short lived as adolescent bellows converged on your hiding spot.

Astarion’s ears twitched in their direction and his face warped from one of contentment to bitter irritation.

“Oi, oi hanging out under a bridge.”

“Like a couple of lovesick trolls.”

You rolled your eyes at their childish remarks. Astarion, however, lacked the patience needed when dealing with youths. He shot them a glare so piercing, it silenced them in an instant. He was a stray cat, territorial and fierce. A non-existent hiss threatened them from the shadows and like a pair of puppies, they whimpered and scurried out of view.

“Was that really necessary?” you laughed hoarsely. 

“What? You can’t honestly expect me to sit here listening to children babbling on.”

You stifled your laughter. “You’re such an old man. You used to be like that too, you know?”

“I’ll have you know, I was never the sort.”

“I sometimes wonder about that myself,” he laughed bitterly, changing the subject. “Are you feeling better now, love?”

“Hmm, I wonder what kind of child you were.”

You closed your eyes and nodded. “We need to get back to the others.” You rose to your feet and Astarion joined you, a supportive hand on your lower back.

“Very well then, I’ll lead the way.” His fingers locked with yours as he led you back into the sunlight. He lit up literally and figuratively, his skin beaming like a pearl in the warm light and his mouth curling into a soft smile. He was truly in his element. “Which route would you prefer? We have the scenic back alleys of Baldur’s Gate and the even more picturesque sewers down below.”

“We can go the normal way. I don’t think I’ll subject you to the sewers just yet.” You smirked knowingly. Your adventure would lead you down into the sewers eventually, why wouldn’t it?

With a guiding hand he led you away from the dark alleyways and into the teeming streets. You did your best to suppress your rising panic. You focused on the prevailing scraps of nature: trickling water, rustling leaves and the painless cry of birds up above. Astarion, on the other hand, had been suspiciously quiet. You noticed how his eyes lit up with delight, as he stared across the street.

“What’s over there?” you asked.

“Huh? Oh, you mean that.” He pulled you in closer; one hand wrapped around your waist, the other still clasped in yours. He pointed across the street. “I’ve always wanted to visit the florist’s over there. The flowers have the most delightful fragrances.”

“How come you’ve never- ah.” You trailed off sadly, already knowing the answer.

“They always close before sundown. It’s rather unfortunate Cazador never let me bring anything home other than victims. A bouquet of flowers could have done wonders for that tacky little entranceway.”

“Well, we could always go together.”

“As much as I’d love to tour the city with you, you’ve had a long day. Let’s get you back to camp first, hm?”

“Okay, we’ll come back some other time.” You said, making a mental note of the store’s exact location.

The sun began to retreat, lost to the shadows of the upper city. There was no quieting of the streets, as the fading light gave way to an influx of people; those departing their homes and businesses, ready for whatever nightly activities they had planned. Astarion held you near to him, skillfully threading you past any who came too close. 

While you had no intention of stopping, a prominent display of cakes and pastries caught your eye. You ground to a halt, dragging Astarion with you. Unnatural hues of reds, pinks, greens and blues peered at you from behind the glass, like rows of infernal eyes. Their construction was intricate and put the very store they were displayed in to shame.

“Quite darling aren’t they?” he said, standing beside you.

“They’re pretty. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted something so beautiful.”

“Speak for yourself,” he replied fondly, looking through the glass; his reflection non-existent, as he looked between you and the cakes. “A sweet treat for my sweet treat.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah, we should really be getting back.”

The sun had almost fully set, your surroundings becoming a drab greyscale of abandonment. As you got further and further away the sounds of the city began to fade, muffled behind crumbling properties and streaming waters. It was peaceful, walking together in comfortable silence, firmly attached to one another.

“I could get used to this, you know? Strolling through derelict back alleys with you by my side,” Astarion mused. 

“I’d like that. Wouldn’t mind a change of scenery though, a bit more greenery perhaps.”

Astarion coughed nervously, turning to face you. “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to talk about what happened earlier?”

“I don’t- I don’t really know what there is to say,” you stammered in response.

“It’s alright, we’ll work through it together. We always do.” He flashed you a resolute smile.

“You don’t think it’s a little pathetic freaking out over nothing?” 

“The city can be quite overwhelming, I suppose. Not that I would know, I’ve lived here for hundreds of years.” Just like him to humble brag. “I’ve done my fair share of ‘freaking out’ on our little adventure, far be it for me to judge you.”

You wrapped your arms around him, hiding your face in the fabric of his armour. “Yeah, I guess I’m just not used to it. Sorry, again.”

“Oh stop it.” He returned the gesture and held you in his arms. You stood together silent in the moonlight, rocking against one another, all while steely waters lapped against the canal wall.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been anywhere so… populated. I feel trapped, like a rat almost.”

He gave you a once over. “Well you certainly don’t look rodent like. The taste is significantly better, I might add.”

“I wish I was a rat, then I could just run and hide in a nice wall.”

He hummed in contemplation. “I know it might be odd for me to be the one saying this, but perhaps running away isn’t the best option? We’ve faced all our problems head on so far, surely this is no different?”

You buried your face back into his chest, your agreement coming out as a muffled groan. “But what if it happens again? What if it happens while we’re doing something important?”

He rested his chin atop your head, arms still encircling your waist. “I’ll be with you, so you don’t need to worry.” He pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Just don’t stray too far from me, okay?” His tone was steady and confident, but there was a desperate and needy look in his eyes. A far worse person could take advantage of such adoration. You couldn’t let that happen, you’d never let anyone use him ever again.

You cupped his face in your hands, doing your best to look as sincere as possible within the eyes that reflected you. “I’m not going anywhere. Especially not while Cazador’s still alive.”

Satisfied with this answer, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was firm and tender, a silent act to seal the promise between you both.

“Right, we should get back before one of them burns the entire camp down,” you said looking off into the distance concernedly.

“Always a possibility when you’re not around.”

The hearty chatter and crackling fire were a welcoming sight, as you approached camp. None of the others had noticed the two of you yet and you were determined to have one last moment alone with your lover. Feeling at ease, you asked him one final question.

“Astarion?”

“Yes, my sweet?”

“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” You grinned sheepishly, lips brushing against his.

[charliepoopyfart]

Newt x reader in which she feels guilty over everyone they couldn't save and he comforts her? This would take place either after they get out of the Maze or reach the Safe Haven (and Newt is alive because he deserves it)

newt does deserve it you're so right for that

masterlist

You awaken with a cry choked in your throat, hands grasping out blindly for a contact they’ll never make. It takes you a minute to remember where you are and why you shouldn’t have to fear for your life, but longer to force your heart rate back to normal. For a moment, you thought you were still there and never left.

It’s not true, though, no matter how many nightmares would like to tell you otherwise. You’re out of the Maze, out of the Scorch, and W.I.C.K.E.D. no longer has a hold on you.

It’s hard to remember that when you’re stuck in the dreams, though. Your mind has had enough testing and exposure to Variables that it’s able to cook up horrifying night terrors quite easily, and is very good at making them seem so realistic that you never know that you’re stuck in them until the moment you wake up.

This moment has come and gone, but you’re still afraid to lie back down and try to go to sleep. You have no other choice, though; trying to build a new life in the Safe Haven is a lot of work. It reminds you of what it was like in the very beginning of the Maze, but this time, no one’s sending up supplies. You have what you have, and the rest must be built or otherwise made.

It’s a good life, but an exhausting one, so you can’t afford to miss any more hours on nightmares. So, after allowing yourself one last precious moment of safety, you force your eyes shut once more. Sleep comes fairly quickly, despite the horrid nightmare you just experienced; your skin and bones are too worn to save you from unconsciousness. You close your eyes once more, condemning yourself to that very pit of hell you only just recently escaped.

Despite your best efforts, though, you’re not able to fall asleep for a very long time, and when you do, it’s a restless sort of slumber that leaves you longing for more when the first traces of dawn first start to make themselves known.

You keep your eyelids firmly down as if by not looking at the quickly approaching morning, it’ll go away for at least a little longer. Unfortunately, your plan doesn’t work, and you’re left with the cruelly cheerful sound of birds chirping outside your small shack as a reminder that it’s time to get up.

You’d like nothing more than to hide away for the rest of time, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned from the Maze, the Scorch, and now the Safe Haven, it’s that everyone needs to be seen as putting in their equal bit of effort to get anywhere. Although you swear you’ve earned the right to lie about uselessly after everything you’ve been through, you still need to help out, so you force your legs out of your threadbare blankets anyways.

Your hut is small, the top of your head scarcely a few inches from the dimly thatched ceiling, but it’s enough to keep you dry and out of sight, and that’s just fine by you. Still, you can’t help but wish that the carefully constructed walls could protect you from the nightmares as well. As you go throughout the day, your lack of sleep presses in on you like heavy clothes on a drowning man, threatening to pull you under.

Every step feels like a momentous weight of effort, and your eyelids must be lined with lead, judging by how badly they want to fall shut. You’re supposed to be helping clear swathes of the island of brush and wilderness to make more habitable areas, but it’s impossible to get your arms and legs to do what you want without a monumental amount of focus.

Someone approaches from the vague direction behind you, but you can’t find it within yourself to care until they tap the freshly laid fencepost in front of you to get your attention.

“Hey, sweetheart. Everything alright?”

You glance up dully to see Newt looking at you, eyes lanced with concern. The late morning sun does wonders to his hair, threading it through with gold as if he were a prince from an ancient tapestry. You could look at him forever, you think, and never grow tired of the sight. You’ve been loving him for months now, maybe more if you knew what lurked in the memories W.I.C.K.E.D. stole from you, and it is still not enough.

You manage to nod slowly. “Yeah, yeah. All good.” A moment later, you realize that if Newt is here, he’s not with the farmers, which is his designated work assignment. “Wait, why are you out here?”

Newt chuckles at the question. “I’m here because I want to know why my girlfriend looks like she’s in a daze. Is something wrong, honestly?”

You groan, rubbing a tired hand over your face. “Shuck, is it that obvious? I was trying to pretend nothing was wrong, but I guess that isn’t working out as well as I hoped.”

Newt lifts a shoulder, kicking up a foot against the nearby fence so he can lean back against the wooden frame. “Not to anyone who doesn’t know you, I think. I suppose I’m used to seeing you trying to force yourself to do things you’re in no condition to do, so you can’t fool me.”

You smile at him, your boy, silhouetted by the rising sun. “I have never been able to fool you, Newt. There’s no surprise there.”

There isn’t, truly. It took Newt roughly three days to realize something had changed after you realized you loved him for the first time. He said he could tell because you looked at him differently, like you started watching what you said instead of just blurting out the first thing that came to mind as you did with the rest of your friends. It took you a little longer than that to realize that Newt would only notice such trivial changes if he was watching you first. By now that’s no surprise at all, because Newt loves you just as much as you love him.

Still, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if he wasn’t quite so keen to you right now. Newt folds his arms across his chest, evidently waiting for an answer.

“Well? What’s going on, love?”

You sigh, pressing your lips into a thin line. There’s no one immediately next to you other than Newt, although you can tell that there are still eyes on you somehow. As one of the shanks who managed to be unlucky enough to be stuck in the original Maze, all of the latest Immunes seem to look to you for guidance. This was fine at first, when you had far more survival/make it or break it skills than they did, but now it just means that you never seem to get a moment alone.

“Nightmares. Bad ones. I couldn’t fall asleep afterwards.”

Newt nods, eyes flickering away in sympathy. He seems to consider something for a moment longer, then loops his arm through yours and starts pulling you away. You’re not so tired that you’d consider removing yourself from him, but you do look at him in confusion.

“What’s this about?”

Newt waves at the other person in charge of Safe Haven boundary expansion, a girl from the Group B Maze named Simone, and shouts to her something about how you’re both taking your breaks. She flashes the two of you a thumbs up in return.

“We’re talking about this,” Newt murmurs to you, “because I can tell that you’re not going to stop thinking about this for a while and I want to help with that. Besides, I’m afraid to let you use a hammer when you’re this sleep deprived. You look like you’re minutes away from accidentally taking off your own thumb.”

You poke him in the side. “Rude. I’m very capable with a hammer. You can tell because I still have all ten fingers, although it may not last forever.”

Newt smiles, and takes advantage of the fact that there’s no one immediately staring at you to press a kiss to your cheek. “Oh, you don’t have to remind me of that. I simply want what’s best for you, which includes keeping all of your fingers firmly attached to your hands.”

Your heart lightens, and you find that you’re quite content to let Newt lead you away from the various workplaces and into a more secluded area on the island. There’s a cliffline not far from here, just high enough up for a good view. Newt sits down first, tugging you into his lap. You don’t know that any place has felt more like home than the precious space in between his chin and his collarbone, nor that any place has ever been meant more for you.

Newt speaks, and you can feel the vibrations of it through his chest. “So, what was in the nightmares? Who did you see?”

He knows, then, why these particular brands of night terrors have decimated you so. You have no doubt that Newt, as well as just about every other Glader and Immune in the Safe Haven, has seen variations of the same damned dreams, and woken up sobbing over similar people that they’ve lost. In the end, what haunts you most isn’t the blood, nor the monsters, but all the friends you couldn’t save.

Your voice is quiet, and cracks slightly when you speak. “Teresa. We were back on that roof, and I was reaching for her but I didn’t make it in time.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, and then you’re back there, back in the Berg watching Teresa fall away in a plume of smoke and fire. She had been the last one to board, or she should have been, were it not for the fact that the roof fell apart under her feet just before she could run to safety. She had held out her hands to you, trusting you to save her, and you hadn’t managed it.

Teresa, your closest friend in the Maze despite the fact that you’d only known her for a few short days back in the days of the Glade. She’d saved your lives a thousand times in the Scorch, and she seemed to understand you in every way possible. You can’t hope to guess what you were like in the days before you were sent up in the Box, before W.I.C.K.E.D.’s memory wipe, but you can hope that you were close friends. Teresa’s hinted at enough for you to assume that it is fact.

All of this, all of the secrets you shared and the jokes that only the two of you ever got, and when it mattered most, you were too late. You sobbed for hours over Chuck’s murder, and Alby’s sacrifice refuses to leave your head, but the death that hurts you the most will always be Teresa, because her death was on you. You couldn’t pull her up in time, and she fell.

Newt shakes his head, as if he can tell what you’re thinking. “You can’t blame yourself for Teresa’s death, love.”

You laugh hollowly. “Why not? I was there. I should have caught her, but I didn’t.”

Newt reaches down to take your hand. “Do you blame me for her death? Do you blame Thomas?”

“No,” you answer out of reflex, “But that isn’t a fair comparison. I was the closest to her, so it wasn’t your fault but mine.”

Newt squeezes your hand. “Wrong answer. You are just as much to blame as I am, and just as much to blame as Thomas or Brenda or Frypan or anyone else on that Berg. Basically, you’re not to blame at all. Teresa didn’t die because you didn’t reach her, she died because the Right Arm set off explosives and didn’t give us enough time to get out. Nothing about that is your fault, Y/N. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t think it was true.”

You let out a slow breath. “That doesn’t erase the fact that I was her friend. I should have found some way to save her. I’m fairly sure that Thomas hates me for not being able to rescue her.”

Newt shakes his head firmly. Not the faintest slip of doubt exists in him, and you wish you could feel the same way.

“Thomas doesn’t hate you, trust me on that. Thomas is grateful that you are alive and he doesn’t have to lose any more friends. In fact, I think Thomas might almost be happy in some sort of sick way, because now he doesn’t have to make the choice between Teresa and Brenda. It’s an awful thing to say, but it’s true. We’re all awful people to live as long as we have, but Thomas could never hate you.”

You think about this. “You’re not an awful person, and you lived.”

Newt stiffens, as if he’s thinking about some long-buried secret.

“That’s not entirely true. I nearly died, you know. If Brenda hadn’t gotten the cure to the Flare to me in time, I would have died. I was a Crank, and if I hadn’t gotten that shot, I would have killed somebody. It was horrifying, what I did. Sometimes I think that I didn’t deserve to get the Cure because of what I did. Some part of me thinks that my story should have ended with me going past the Gone, but it didn’t.”

You shift slightly so you can look him in the eyes. “You did what you had to so you could survive with a mutant virus ravaging your brain, Newt. Right now, you’re alive, and you’re you. That’s all I could ask for.”

Newt reaches out a hand, gently tracing the curve of your cheek with a finger. “And all I could ask for is that you’re here and safe with me, which you are. Listen, I know that asking this is impossible, but I need you to let go of Teresa. She will always be in our memories, just like Alby and Chuck and everybody else, but you can’t let her haunt you like this. She wouldn’t want you to feel this much guilt over something that isn’t your fault.”

You nod, although you know that it won’t be that easy. “What if I have nightmares again? Even if I’m trying to move on?”

Newt presses a kiss to the top of your forehead. “Then you come find me, and we talk about it. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night or ten minutes before dawn. You find me, and we find a way to make it all seem better. That’s what we do, isn’t it? We get through anything, no matter how difficult it may feel.”

You nod, inclining your head so it can better nestle against him. “Thank you, Newt.”

You can feel his lips curve up against your hair. “Any time, love. I mean it.”

The morning sun continues on its fiery path across the sky, but for once it doesn’t seem as threatening. Instead, it’s bright, it’s beautiful. There is a lifetime of struggling to recover ahead of you, but at least you won’t do it alone. You have Newt by your side, and that is all that matters.

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv-blog, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42

[charliepoopyfart]

FOOLISH | denji

(this is part two! click here for part one)

synopsis: you get a little jealous... authors note: hi! this part two is approximately six months late. apologies. HOPE U ALL ENJOY cw: SMUT, nsfw, sinning and lots of it, edging, lots of making out in various places, aged up characters!, not proofread (sorry), female reader wc: 3.4k

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You weren’t jealous. You were fuming. You weren’t sure of Himeno’s age but you knew she was older than you. Meaning she was older than Denji. Sure you all were above the age of consent but still… What would she want from a younger man anyways? It was quite the age gap. These questions just suited to make you even angrier as you sighed heavily and audibly. She was all over the poor boy. The worst of it was he looked thoroughly entertained by her. He seemed thoroughly entertained by you just last week when he was begging for a kiss. 

“Y/n?” A voice to your left said. You about jumped out of your skin. 

“Hmm?” You intoned, sliding your eyes to the girl next to you. Kobeni, she looked nervous. Probably because you were still wearing the glare. 

“Everything okay?” She asked, her eyes following where yours were glued for so long. You felt embarrassed and covered it with a practiced smile, nodding your head.

“Yeah… why?” You asked, knowing she would be the last person to call you out. 

“N-nothing…” She said, fiddling with her hair. You felt guilty for making things awkward. “Do you… have a thing for Denji?” You couldn’t have guessed that would be coming out of Kobeni’s mouth so the utter surprise that was fixed to your face was something you couldn’t hide or smoothe over.

“W-what?” You questioned, lips parted. Kobeni leaned on her hand slightly, lowering her voice.

“Do you have a thing for-”

“I heard you.” You snapped, keeping your voice low. You sighed, looking back over towards Denji and Himeno. Your eyes met his for a moment and you looked away quickly, an aggravating blush creeping to your cheeks. “I could kill you.” You mutter, letting your head fall in your hands.

“Is that a yes?” Kobeni whispered. Your eyes snapped up to hers.

“No. That is not a ‘yes’!” You hissed in a hushed tone. Her lips zapped closed at that. “He’s-- he’s a devil. He’s immature and pushy and annoying. How could you ever think…” You trailed off, heated. 

“Okay… I’m sorry I asked. It’s just…. You were staring for a long time.”

“I… was lost in thought. It had nothing to do with… them.” You said, the last word coming out a bit begrudgingly.

“Oh…kay.” Kobeni says. “Well… I heard Himeno’s gonna try and sleep with him.” You flinched hard at her words, your stomach twisting uncomfortably in disgust.

“W-what?” You managed to force out. Kobeni leans close to you as though you two were sharing juicy gossip… which is pretty much what you were doing.

“She said he was cute… she liked how inexperienced he was.”

“That’s… predatory.” You say with a sharp look pointed towards Himeno. She was blushing, throwing her head back in laughter at something Denji said. Your gut twisted and you forcibly turned yourself back towards Kobeni.

“You didn’t hear it from me.” She winks, leaning back, sipping her drink. You were the jealous type, but you weren’t the type to act on these things. You sat back in your chair, looking over one last time, and when your eyes met Denji’s you looked away again and pushed up from the table. “You okay?” Kobeni asks as you give her a weak smile.

“Yeah… I just-- I’m tired, that's all. Gonna head home.” You say, Kobeni gives you a sort of pitying smile and nods her head. She knew and you didn’t care to justify yourself. You weave through the crowded restaurant, shouldering open the door into the cold drizzle of rain. It cools your heated cheeks. It feels good. So much better than that cramped restaurant. You head down the sidewalk and now that you're alone you feel sort of safe with letting your thoughts wander. Safe with letting the emotion of the night plague your features. 

Yes. 

Yes you were fucking jealous. As begrudged as you were to conclude that. You didn’t have much right to be jealous. You and Denji kissed twice and you ignored him for three days after that. You never let on that you liked him before that and definitely not after. You had no right to be jealous. But you were. It couldn’t be helped. Denji was… a lot of things. Things that you didn’t like. Immature for starters, he was foolish and knew not even the first thing about women. Feeling this way for someone like him was dangerous and surely detrimental to your own feelings. But still… You couldn’t help it. Because he was all those things but kind to you. He saved you. He makes you laugh, he’s annoyingly funny. He shares his food with you and follows you around like a lost puppy. He texts you stupid memes and picks you up matcha tea lattes everytime he goes somewhere without you. He begs you to read your books aloud to him if he’s in the same room as you and watches all your sappy romance movies without complaining. He gives you his favorite manga to read and gets very excited when you like the same characters he does. 

You stopped walking as the rain started to pick up, ducking under an overhand a few doors down from the restaurant. You leaned against the cold brick of the wall, watching the rain coming down in droves now. You thought about the kisses you two shared. How you’d never felt that way before. How after you closed the door between you two you couldn’t sleep that night. Just kept replaying that moment over and over, feeling the warmth of his hand slide around your hip and pull you close to him. It shocked you really. How you lost sleep over a kiss. It was frustrating. You felt like a silly little girl again.

“Y/n!” 

You had crushes when you were a teenager, not that they ever really amounted to anything. Nothing ever went your way with love. That was something so much like sand through your fingers. Hard to grasp and even harder to hold onto. You had no experience, of course you wouldn’t be picked over someone who had experience.

“Hey! Y/n! There you are!” You heard his voice seconds before Denji slammed into you with a bone crushing hug. You yelped as he swept you right off your feet. 

“Hey! W-what?” You gasped as Denji sat you back on your feet, his hands just above your hips. 

“I called your name like fifty times! You didn’t hear me?” He asked, his hand coming up without a warning to push your hair from your face. 

“I didn’t.” You deflected, a heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Kobeni told me you were sick.” Denji worried, his hand coming up to press against your forehead, sliding down to press against your cheek. He sucked in a breath. “You're cold.”

“It’s cold outside.” You smiled smally. “I’m fine. Just tired.” Denji pulls his jacket off even though you already have one on. “Denji… no you don’t have a jacket.” You protest but he’s already draping it over your shoulders. 

“Better?” He asks as you look up at him.

“You need a jacket.”

“Chainsaw man doesn’t need a jacket.” He jests, causing a small laugh to escape your lips. You watch in real time Denji looking at the smile on your lips and matching it. You feel butterflies in your stomach and look away before they can take flight.

“You can go back… I’ll be fine walking home.”

“No.” He says with a shake of his head.

“No?” You echo.

“I’m not letting a pretty lady walk home alone. Someone might take you.” 

“Someone?”

“Yes, someone. Someone with eyes.”

“Really specific.” You laugh. “I’m a devil hunter, no one’s taking me.”

“I don’t care. I’m coming home with you.”

“Wouldn’t you rather… go home with someone else?” You ask and feel foolish for asking, foolish for letting that stupid bout of jealousy to show. Denji cocks his head like a dog. 

“Someone else?” He asks and you almost tell him to forget it but your lips are moving before you can stop them.

“Himeno.” His eyes go to yours and for a moment you both just stare at each other. 

“Isn’t she like thirty? I’m not trying to go home with a cougar when I could go home with you.” He says and a startled laugh passes your lips.

“A c-cougar, Denji…” You shake your head laughing. 

“I might be an idiot but I am not dumb. No one could even comes fucking close to you, you know that right?”

“Shut up.” You blush, hiding your face slightly. Denji reaches up and gently catches your wrist, pulling your hands away from your face so he can look you in the eyes as he speaks. 

“I mean it. You are my top girl. The only girl for me.” His words have the utmost sincerity in them that you almost feel your knees go all wobbly. Your lips part. You try to recover, try to laugh it off and shake your head but he doubles down by moving into your space and grabbing both of your cheeks to press a kiss to your cold lips. It’s just a quick press, something to drive his words home to you. And when he goes to lean away from you, his lips parting in words about to be spoken you cut him off. Throwing your arms around the back of his neck, spinning him around and pressing him into the cold brick wall. 

“Oh…” Denji gasps against your lips, his hands sliding around your lower back. You press slightly frantic kisses to his lips, kisses you dreamed about, kisses that plagued your sleep. “I can’t-- believe your-” You kiss the side of his mouth, slowly trailing kisses down. Kissing his jawline, then under his jaw. He obediently raises his head giving you easier access to his neck. “Uhn… holy shit…” He practically pants out, his hand snaking down, palming your ass. You can’t help but laugh, breaking your concentration. “W-what?” He whimpers out of breath.

“You couldn’t help yourself could you?” You ask, his hand still on your ass. He can barely think about what you're talking about, you're standing so close, he can still feel your lips against his neck. Yeah… you’re not gonna be able to get a straight answer out of him for a bit. It makes you laugh even harder, this sort of calms his overheated brain, affording him a moment of reality.

“Oh… oh sorry… I should’ve asked.” He says and lets go. You shake your head.

“No… it’s… it’s fine.” You laugh warmly, sliding your hand under his jaw, thumb sliding over his cold cheek. “I just know… how badly you have wanted to touch a girl's ass.”

“Your ass.” He clarifies. “I have a list of things I want to touch, you draw me a map and I’ll follow it.” He says with the utmost seriousness. You find yourself blushing at that comment, realizing you two were still in public. The rain had stopped, you're not sure when and people were starting to walk around a bit.

“Okay, playboy, let’s cool off.” You laugh and watch as Denji’s face gets serious.

“Oh… I forgot you weren’t feeling good.” He intones softly, making you smile. 

“I feel fine.” You say and he perks up at that, sliding a hand around your waist, pulling you to him. 

“Then I want to kiss you some more.” He says and when he leans in you turn your face, his lips hit your cheek.

“Not… out here.” You say, blushing. Denji pulls back, nodding his head.

“At home?”

“Aki’s home.” You remind him and Denji lets his head fall against the wall, a whine escaping his lips.

“I could kill that ponytail freak.” He groans as you laugh, shaking your head, linking your hand with his and pulling him towards home. 

“That’s not very nice, Dennis.” You say and Denji’s lips part in mock disbelief at the nickname. 

“That’s messed up, baby.” He pouts, making you laugh even harder. He pulls you to him, draping his arm around your shoulders, fighting the bite of the cold away.

When you two get to the apartment building, Denji jogs to open the door for you, holding it open as you walk inside, giving him an amused smile. 

“So,” He starts, catching up with you as he starts walking up the stairs. “When do we start dating… or have we already?”

“What?” You sputter out, surprised. 

“You kissed me like you owned me and I want you to.” He explains making your entire body go red as you stop at the top of the stairs.

“Denji…” You start, unsure how to even phrase any other words after that last comment.

“Y/n… please don’t ignore me for a week again, I barely survived the last time.” He says as you look at him apologetically. 

“I’m sorry,” You sigh. “I was… figuring things out.” You explain and Denji nods his head. 

“Did you?” He asks and you look at him questioningly. “Figure things out?”

“I… against my better judgment… do like you.” You force yourself to say. Denji’s entire world flips on its axis, he goes pale for a second and you think he might actually pass out. You reach to steady him. “Denji,”

“I’m fine.” He bleats, clearing his throat. “You like me.” He echoes with a dreamy look in his eyes. They drift back to you after a moment. “So I belong to you?”

“No…” You say, not really liking the sound of that.

“No?”

“Denji, you're your own person.” You try to explain.

“Fuck that.” He waves off. “I want to belong to you. I don’t mind if you don’t want to belong to me.” He explains but then thinks better of his words. “Though the thought of someone else touching you makes me feel ill.” He cringed. You can’t help but laugh, he looks at you. He loves watching you laugh, especially when he’s the cause of it. He kisses you mid laugh, just wanting that smile pressed against his lips. You made a sound, somewhere between a surprised gasp and a content sigh. In the hallway alone there was a bit more privacy. He’s stood one stair below you so you have a few inches on him, his neck bent slightly up to kiss you, both hands sliding to pull you in by your cheeks and pull you impossibly closer. Your hands hold his wrists loosely. The kiss grows as he takes a step up, now towering over you as he slowly backs you up into the front door, pressing your back to it. Your right hand slides around the back of his neck, pulling just slightly at his hair. Your other hand wraps around his waist, resting there and pulling him in closer. Both his hands stay on your face, he’s kissing you with more ferocity than any of the other times. It’s almost like this is the last chance he’ll ever get, that he has one shot to really drive it home to you how badly he wants you. 

Suddenly the door behind you two opens and you stumble inside. Aki holds the doorknob, groggily wiping his eyes.

“Did you guys forget your keys?” He asks, unaware of what was just happening outside the door. 

“Yes!” “No.” You and Denji answer at the same time, Denji pouting at being interrupted again. Aki just mumbles something and heads back to bed, pushing the door shut, leaving you and Denji in the dimly lit hallway. Denji sighs, watching Aki go. 

“That guy is always interrupting.” He grumbles, making you crack a smile and a soft laugh.

“He’s not doing it on purpose.” You say and Denji just rolls his eyes, huffing. You gently grab Denji’s hand. “If you can be quiet, I’m sure we won’t be interrupted anymore.” You whisper, pulling him back towards your room. Denji almost tripped at your words, a violent blush spreading across his entire body. 

“Y-you can’t say stuff like that!” He whispers as you laugh softly. “You’ll get me excited.”

“That’s the point.” You say and when you push open your door Denji practically pounces on you. You catch and push your door shut at the last second as he’s walking you back to the bed. The backs of your knees hit and then you both fall back onto the covers. Denji pressed his weight against you, kissing you hard. His knee comes up just between your legs and pushes below your knee to part them. He was eager, very eager to crack you open, to touch every part of you and kiss you until you both couldn’t take it anymore. You rolled him over so you were on top. His hands slid down and rested on your hips. You grabbed one of his hands and guided to rest just on your ass. His cheeks went cherry red at that and you couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. You lean down against him and feel his ragged breath fan across your lips.

“I could…” He breathes out. “I could die beneath you.” Your own cheeks blush.

“No need for that.” You smile, pressing a gentle kiss to either of his cheeks. “I’ll be gentle.” 

“Treat me however you want… You own me.” He whispers, his fingers flexing where they lay on your body. The feeling of the kiss and all the sensations made Denji feel so hot and flustered. The feeling of the intense passion and heat. It was something that made him feel so many emotions. The sensation of your tongue sliding against his, and the breath mingling against each other's, was enough to make him moan and whimper. "D...don't stop.." Denji's breath was still shaky, his blushing was still bright and he gulped. The heat was so intense and the feeling of your tongue mingling with his sent him over the top. Denji's body shuddered and trembled. You kissed him hard, your hips absentmindedly moving against his own heating and winding him up way past what he could handle. Denji's body jolted as the heat only built up more. Denji knew he was going to lose it soon... the kisses, the slight grinding and the intense lust... it was only building more and more. Denji gulped and his breathing hitched again, he was barely holding back the feeling of... him going over the edge. You trailed a kiss to a sensitive part of his neck, whimpering out his name into his ear. That pushed him toppling right over the edge, Denji's breathing went wild, his back arched and his body jolted. He felt like he could explode at any second. The heat and the intense feeling of satisfaction and ecstasy... it made Denji moan and feel like he was on cloud nine. Denji didn't even care about the embarrassment of how loud his moans were, he was so lost within the ecstasy of pleasure. You clamped a hand over his mouth as he came undone beneath you. Denji's voice was muffled, but this made the experience even better. You moved your hand and muffled his sounds with your lips. The sensation of all this lust and pleasure, the feelings of satisfaction and ecstasy... were overwhelming, but the kiss... made it all worth it. Denji’s body jolted and trembled. 

“Shit…” He slowly breathed out. 

“Did you…?” You trailed off. He gulped and spoke quietly.

“I-- I told you… you get me too excited.” Something bloomed in your chest, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “It’s okay.” You whispered.

“Really? You’re not mad?”

“Of course not.” You laughed, running a hand through his hair. You two part for a bit so Denji can clean up, he comes back about fifteen minutes later as you were pulling the covers back to go to bed. 

“Could I sleep with you?”

“What?” You blurt out, turning. 

“I mean… sleep, actually sleep. I want… to.” Your cheeks blush but you nod your head, he slides in the bed first as you turn out the light. As you draw closer he reaches out for you and pulls your body against his, tugging the covers up over you. He presses a kiss to your shoulder and slightly tightens his arm around your waist. You knew right then it was over for you.

Just as much as he belonged to you, you knew you belonged to him as well.                                               

[charliepoopyfart]

YOOOO awesome denji obsessed girl is back. ok so i was rewatching csm and during the scene of them trapped in the hotel and was like, "ohoho how about denji x (fem) reader with them sleeping in the bed and maybee like how denji acts like loopy after the bloodloss back at the apartment after a blood transfusion or wtvr"

anyway just a thought u dont have to 👍👍 something nice and fluffy

super quick super quick drabble less than 300 words

written w/ fem reader in mind + not proofread

~~~~

Denji’s laid back in bed, still due for a blood transfusion following a drawn out battle in chainsaw form. And you’re on duty to watch him until Aki gets home.

“You’re really pretty…”

“Thank you.”

“And smart. And nice.”

“Thank you.”

“Like… so nice you’re an angel…” he scrunches his brows up at you, eyes narrow, “Are you an angel? You gotta tell me if you are…”

“Nope, not an angel. Just a boring human.”

“I think you’re…” he giggles, poking your cheek, “awesome.”

“Thanks,” you brush his tangled bangs from his face, resting your palm against his warm forehead to keep the frays away, “I think you’re awesome, too.”

“No way,” he grins, folding his hands politely over his chest and stretching his legs out with a throaty groan.

“Are you comfy, Denji?”

“So comfy.”

“Good,” you lay out beside him and pull the soft blanket up to your chins, nestling your cheek on Denji’s shoulder, “Because I’m tired, too.”

Denji stills completely, even his breathing ceased in his paranoia to not rouse you. At least until,

“Denji, you can breathe.”

“Thank God,” he wheezes, “Feel free to pinch me if my breathing gets annoying.”

You shake your head against his shoulder, curling both arms around his and slinging a leg over his, “I like you when you’re breathing.”

“You do?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Turning his head to lay it against yours, soft peachy skin smooth against yours. Hair entwining and lashes fluttering over you. Denji knows just by the thundering in his chest, he’s in love with you.

“I love you,” he slurs, exhausted.

You reach up with a quiet yawn, petting through Denji’s silky hair, “You’re adorable, Denji.”

Denji gets so overwhelmed with excitement that his heart gives out completely -- he finally passes out.

[charliepoopyfart]

Dream Double Team

Pairing: Aki Hayakawa x Fem!Reader x Denji

Tags: nsfw, smut, virginity loss (for Denji), threesome, guidance, nipple stimulation, fingering, clit stimulation, praise, dirty talk

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Commission for @soraritsuka.

Movie nights with Aki were rare, movie nights with Aki and Denji even more rare. As your boyfriend Aki wanted to include you in more activities with his friends, which was sweet of him but neither of you missed the lustful way in which Denji looked over at you all the time. The pillow in his lap did little to nothing at all to hide his excitement growing whenever you stretched and let out a moan.

"You're not subtle." You looked over with a knowing grin. Aki leaned over your shoulder, one arm over the couch, the other holding yours. Denji blushed and quickly glanced away, trying to focus on the movie. Aki leaned in and whispered something in your ear, "Really? Now?"

"He's been complaining about it for weeks." Your boyfriend dropped hints about it too, about wanting to help his friend out.

You nodded and placed a quick kiss on his lips before leaning over to do the same to Denji whose eyes were as wide as saucers and cheeks deep pink. Ah, his hands feel away from the pillow rather quickly, allowing you to take it from him and cup the bulge in his pants.

"Wait- Aki is- ah!" You placed your whole hand on his cock, pushing and massaging over the wet spot. "What-"

"This was his idea. You've been complaining about it right? Being a virgin?" You whispered against his parted lips as your other hand started to unzip his pants to get to his naked dick, "How many night did you jack off while listening to us fuck, you little pervert."

"It's your damn fault for being so loud!" He barked out in defense as he sat up a little so you could take his pants and boxers off. "Fuck. Am I dreaming? Is this a dream? Oh my fuck-" Denji was a mess even before your hand wrapped around his leaky cock. Every stroke produced more cum from the tip, dripping and covering your hand in it. "Suck please, please I wanna know what it's like, please."

Apparently he wasn't above begging. Good. "Good boy, Denji, asking for it will get you a long way with women. We love it when you tell us how much you want us." You kissed your way down his neck while slowly lifting his shirt up, "But we also like asking for the same."

You didn't have to ask Aki, he willingly gave you so much. Denji's eyes went wide when Aki's hands lifted your shit over your chest to reveal them bare. No wonder you were wearing Aki's shirt, you wanted to hide the fact that you only had panties on. Denji's mouth practically watered at the sight of your swollen nipples.

Aki rolled your sensitive buds between his fingers, relishing in your soft gasps and your hips bucking backwards when he began to tug on them a bit more. "Lean back against me baby, let him see you." He bit your ear, voice soft yet commanding.

The whine from Denji's lips when you let go of his cock was a delight to you, hopefully you'll hear more as the night goes on.

“Denji, take her panties off. Take a good look at her cunt.” He kept his hands focused on your breasts while Denji obeyed without a word, tugging your panties off and not even once taking his eyes off your pussy. "Look at how wet she is." One of Aki's hands traveled down your body, first spreading your pussy and then thrusting in with his middle and ring finger, "Look at how easily her cunt swallows my fingers."

"Oh fuck. Pussy. Real pussy. She…" Shamesly Denji started stroking himself while watching Aki finger you. You whined wanting to be the one stroking, sucking, doing something for them. "Are you gonna make her come Aki?"

"No, you will. I just got her ready for you. Isn't that right sweetheart? Are you ready for Denji's cock?" He asked as he pinched your nipple.

"Ah! Yes! Please! My cunt is ready for you." Your words almost made Denji come right there. You moaned and tossed your head back when Aki pulled his fingers out and swiped them through your folds, teasingly circling your clit before spreading your cunt open once again. "Aki. Denji. Please, don't tease. You wanna fuck me don't you? Come here already."

Denji scooted between your legs and swiped the tip of his cock against your entrance. "Can I do it in one go?" Both you and Aki nodded in agreement, him going back to teasing your clit and nipple and Denji sweating bullets as he lined up, "O-Okay, here I go." He really did do it in one go, wasting no time sinking his entire length into you, "Holy shit! H- So wet! God!"

"That's what real cunt is like Denji. Nice isn't it?" Aki whispered as he kissed your shoulder, his eyes glued on Denji's flushed face and sharp teeth.

"Y-Yeah. Real nice pussy. Taking me really well, it's really tight too."

You smiled when you made yourself flutter around him and he lunged forward, burring his head between your breasts, "I have a few tricks up my sleeve too." Pulling Denji close you rolled your hips against him, showing him what pace you liked best. Although uneven he did his best to match it, his hands on your hips, mouth searching for your free nipple to latch onto.

The sound of Denji's balls hitting naked flesh filled the living room, the movie long forgotten and maybe even over, your moans mixing with Denji's whines and Aki's encouragement. You felt yourself getting closer as Aki's skilled fingers rolled over your clit in time with Denji's desperate thrusts.

"Good girl, you're doing well for him. Being a good little cockdoll." You turned your head to kiss Aki, sloppy, greedy, absolutely unrecognizable to Denji from how you usually were. The sight and sounds were enough to send him over the edge, filling you up with cum, all the way to the brim.

"Fuck! Tighter! She's getting even tighter around me! Please, come for me? Around my cock, let me feel you. Be my slut too." He pleaded against your tits, hips smacking hard against yours.

"What you say? Wanna be our little whore? Huh sweetheart?" Aki's fingers rubbed tight circles around your sensitive clit, bringing you closer and closer to your climax. You answered with an orgasm, body going limp against Aki's and pussy clenching tight onto Denji's cock. "So good baby, you did so good." You could only hum in return, trying to catch your breath.

Denji looked up at you, a question on his lips, "What is it Denji? You want more?"

"Eh, no, uhm… can I… kiss you too?" Horny and adorable, those were the two words you'd use to describe Denji right now. And pretty much always.

"Of course you can." You pulled him into a kiss for which his heart melted for. "Aki, do you want to…"

Your boyfriend shook his head and only snuggled you closer, "Tomorrow. I wanted you and Denji to have a nice time tonight." Fuck. How did you land someone so thoughtful? You had to put a wedding ring on that man and soon.

[charliepoopyfart]

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴡɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ

---

!spoilers for no way home!

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

summary: after strange's spell, everybody forgot. peter could walk down the street without having cameras shoved into his face, but he could no longer go into that coffeehouse and talk to his friends like he used to. everybody forgot who peter parker was. everybody except for one.

genre: angst, friends to lovers

warnings: spoilers (obviously), angst, sad peter hours, little bit of canon level violence

word count: 5.4k

mcu masterlist

---

The paper in his hand was crumpled, the words on his tongue slurred as his hands sweated from his anxious nerves. His heartbeat thumped erratically in his chest and walking through that open door that greeted his senses to the strong smell of coffee and sweets just about sent him into a spiral.

The girl behind the counter gave him a small, costmary smile, only growing naturally when she saw the person behind Peter and gave them a bigger wave.

Looking over his shoulder he watched as Ned shoved past him, instantly making conversation with MJ as if he wasn't there.

"Hey Ned," She gave Peter another small smile as she mouthed in a second, and grabbed Ned's usual order of the glazed donut, pouring him some coffee she had already made beforehand as they chatted about MIT and other things Peter had missed in the time they, along with the rest of this universe, had forgotten him.

He had to get used to that, Peter reminded himself, he technically no longer existed.

"Hello," She greeted as she finished talking to Ned, not noticing how Peter's eyes brimmed with tears, "What can I get you?"

Peter stuttered, just as he always seemed to do around MJ, and looked down at the papers for help, nodding to himself as he muttered encouraging words for himself under his breath.

"I’m Peter Parker," He said slowly, for the first time since that spell was cast and everybody forgot who he was, the words he had practiced a million times before sounding small and insolent.

He wasn't anybody under that mask. Once he put it on, everybody knew Spiderman. It seemed as though his life was turning backward as even the girl he loved could recognize the masked hero better than him.

But to his shock and surprise, he watched as her eyes widened a bit, the smile dropping as Ned looked up from his seat, his eyes squinting as he tried to get a better look at his face.

Time stopped as MJ instantly whipped her phone out, typing something quickly as she made a quick call, whispering out a quick apology as the person behind the other line refused to pick up.

"Do you know me? It’s me, Peter," He moved forward, shuffling as hope ignited in his chest, warmth blossoming to the tips of his fingers as he looked from MJ and then to Ned, his lips turning upward into the biggest smile he had ever given somebody, "Peter Parker?" His lungs seemed to stop working as air lodged up in his throat, waiting for her to just say something.

"Uh no, sorry," MJ cursed to herself as the line beeped again, the automated voice answering box mocking her as she pocketed the phone, "Sorry about that. What," She pushed her hair back behind her ears, trying to look as professional as she could as Ned gapped behind her, "What can I get you?"

And just like that, his smile fell, hands to his sides as the paper jeered at him for his stupidity and innocence.

"Oh, um," His voice fell an octave, hushed as he almost let out a pained sound, "That's," He took in a deep breath, trying to sturdy himself back into his factious reality, "That's o-okay. Can I get a coffee to go, please?"

The door behind him swung open, and he once again watched as MJ gave the person behind him one of her real smiles, not the ones she was forced to put on because of her job, but that wasn't what stopped Peter in his tracks.

He heard a small gasp from behind him, a sound of objects clattering to the floor as he whipped his head around, eyes widening when he saw you.

It had been weeks since you two last talked, since you laughed at his stupid science puns, and it had been an agonizingly long amount of time since he watched carelessly as you ate those stale donuts while MJ and Ned decided different things to write for their college admissions letter.

There were dark eye bags under your eyes, your face no longer the bright and happy one he was so used to seeing, this one much grimmer and saddened as the two of you stared at one another, the silence becoming heavy as you didn't say anything.

Your mouth opened, fingers touching your hair as you tried to ground yourself, gapping as you took a slow step forward, not caring about your laptop that could have possibly been broken from the fall it took or the way you already chipped phone could have received more damage.

"Peter?"

He decided that he had never heard a more beautiful sound.

No time was spared are you barreled into his chest, arms tightening around him like a python as you shakily whimpered into his neck, your tears falling down like rain droplets, wetting his skin and collar of his shirt as you wept.

You didn't care if people saw, didn't care if MJ and Ned stared at you like you just saw a ghost, didn't care about anything because Peter was here. He was here and alive and holding you as you were the only thing keeping him steady from falling down.

"P-peter, oh god, Peter," You cried into him, not letting go though he didn't seem to want to either as your lips wavered, fingers grasping tighter onto the fabric of his back as your chest heaved with wet sobs, "Oh Pete," That is all you could seem to say as tears moved in like waves and you had no control over them.

For him, it felt like time had stopped as he sensed your familiar scent of warm vanilla, your warm touch now a bit cold but still you as you held him like he mattered. The way you used to do when he was somebody that people loved, when he was the real Peter Parker.

It took you minutes to move away from his body and even then had difficulty as he seemed to refuse to let you go, but you couldn't not see his face for a second longer, your fingers moving upward as you gripped his cheek in your hands, eyes scanning his face for any cuts or bruises, anything to prove to you why he had been gone for so long without saying anything.

His tears fell down his cheek, splattering on the ground, but the two of you did nothing to wipe either as your hands fell from his face, falling on his chest as you looked at MJ, pointing to him as you waited for her or Ned to say something.

When she gave you a confused shake of her head, asking what was wrong, you felt more tears roll in as you felt the insanity you had been feeling the past few weeks etch its way back into your mind.

You gave him a little push, his feet tumbling back as your lips wobbled in anger, eyes looking at him like he lit the world afire, and you heaved, another sob coming out of your chest as you smacked his arm.

"Where," You gave his chest another push, but it was weak and he could withstand it, "Were," Another weak one, your hands folding in on themselves as you crumpled back into his chest, "You?" You seethed those three words out, each quieter than the last, a mix of rage, betrayal, ache, hurt, everything you'd been feeling but didn't know why seeped out as you hugged him once again.

Peter couldn't feel anything as he felt your tears on his skin, hands shaking as he scooped you into his arm, his cheek pressed tightly against your head as his thumb moved ever so slowly up and down your back, something he used to do when you or MJ or May was every feeling sad, something he never thought he'd do again, but here he was.

His mind was reeling, everything was going so fast he could barely breathe, but you were here, you were her and hugging him just like you used to do.

"You know me?"

His voice was barely there, a fleeting whisper as he could barely believe what he was seeing. He heard you give a small, appalled laugh, punching him lightly in the chest as you looked up at him, confused that he'd even ask such a ridiculous question.

"Peter, what the fuck, of course," You lamely tried to wipe at the tears, "Of course, I know you? You’re Peter Parker, right? Or have you changed your name since I last saw you because nobody seems to know who you are! A-and I feel like I'm crazy and insane but you're here so you have to be real. I mean, these past nine years couldn't have been fake, right? An-" He cut you off, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek as he swooped you back into his arms.

"Was it that electrical guy, did he, did he shock you or something? Have you been to the hospital? Why didn't you tell us, you know we'd come..." You whispered into his chest, defeated as he sniveled something out, almost shocked as he stuttered nonsense to himself.

"We would come but MJ and Ned seem to have lost their fuckin' minds because they can't seem to remember you!" You said, furious now as you looked at the girl and boy behind him.

You snapped out of your trance, struggling to get out of his grasp as you stared the two of them down, shaking in defiant rage as you pointed to him.

"This," You almost yelled, "This is Peter! Remember? Peter Benjamin Parker? Or can't you seem to know your own boyfriend?" Your head tilted to the side in an almost manic way. MJ could barely say anything as she stuttered, looking at Peter and then back to you, "And you," You moved over to Ned, your finger jammed into his chest as he looked wildly at your face, "Do you not remember Peter? Pete from third grade? Peter with remarkably amazing eyesight? Peter who built the death star with you? That Peter?"

If only you could see the way Peter beamed, at the way his eyes widened and shined so brilliantly, as though you had handed him his world back even if you were just yelling at your friends for no reason.

You remembered him. Everything about him, and he could barely control his childlike glee, the rosy blush that swarmed his cheeks adding some color to his face that had been so pale the past couple of days.

For in the span of those minutes you first saw him till now, Peter deduced that MJ, Ned, Happy, and just about anybody who knew who he was still didn't know the real Peter Parker.

Everybody except for you.

"Um, no, can't say I," Ned looked over at MJ, questioning you and the stranger he had only seen until a few minutes ago, "Can't say I do?"

You groaned, jamming your palms into your eye sockets as your fists clenched, looking back at MJ to see if anything sparked in her memory, but she just seemed to be apologizing to Peter for your loud outburst.

But Peter could only give her a shaky smile, muttering some things as he pushed past some people to get to you, his hands shaking a bit as he gripped your arms, searching your face to see if you still remembered him.

"Y/n," Peter had the most gentle hold on your arm, almost terrified that if he touched you you'd disappear, "Can we go outside," He looked at the small crowd forming, "Please?"

You whipped your head to the sound, your angry look vanishing when Peter gave you a heartbreaking smile, cocking his head to the door as he tried to usher you out.

You couldn't say anything as you muttered your goodbyes to your friends, letting Peter walk you out because you couldn't trust your legs, the cold air hitting your face as your teeth clamped down together.

"Pete, come on, you gotta tell me what's going on..." You felt him usher you to an alley, looking behind him to see if anybody was looking, but realizing he no longer had to be conscious about what he said because nobody would look at a boy in an alleyway to find out spiderman's true identity.

"You know me?" He asked again, fingers carding through your hair as you gave him a slow and timid nod, wondering if you actually were crazy and he was a figment of your imagination this entire time.

"Yes, Pete, I know you. Unless some shit happened in these two weeks-"

"Something did happen," He quickly said, his hands never leaving your shoulder, "Something big happened and n-nobody's supposed to know who I am," He glanced back at the coffeehouse, "MJ and Ned were supposed to forget me. You were supposed to forget me but," He looked back at you as if he could barely believe anything that had just happened, "You know me?" His voice felt so raw, so defeated that despite the millions of questions that swarmed your mind, not one of them mattered as you pulled him into a hug, allowing his tears to fall freely in the expanse of your arms, something he never thought he could do again in such a short amount of time since that spell happened.

"You know me," He said to himself because he couldn't believe that somebody still remembered who he was, "You," He embraced you back so tightly you felt the air in your lungs squeeze out, "Know," He kissed your forehead as he looked at you, his thumb tracing your cheek to make sure you weren't just another part of his nightmare, so glad to actually feel skin against his skin, "Me?"

And in that alleyway, with people passing by and the world moving around on its axis, his seemed to stop. Because here, he realized that he wasn't totally in the dark. That somebody, perhaps one of the most important people in his life, could hug him back as they muttered his name over and over again, a mantra of truth that made Peter Parker somewhat of a person again.

---

As the weeks passed, it seemed as though Peter couldn't let you go, showing you around his shabby apartment as he tried to slyly wipe the tears away from his cheek, giving you a wet chuckle as you noted about the little star wars figures on his desk and that you'd be sure to bring back more.

It was painful to tell Ned and MJ that something came up in your life to explain the outburst you had, and although they quickly forgave you, it didn't hurt any less when they moved along the topic as if Peter's name wasn't important to them.

You guessed it no longer was.

You waited patiently as he'd pace around his room, reading a book on his bed he tried to come up with different solutions as to why you still knew who he was, every detail about his past that even he had been starting to forget, but he could only blame it on a flaw in Strange's magic that allowed for this to happen.

His apartment was cold and dark, but he never failed to tell you just how restful you made it with all your visits, with the way you baked him your legendary pecan pie and made it the first thing he had in his rundown fridge.

His suit was tucked away in a corner, and he hadn't touched it much since that night. Crime had been at a low, and even if it wasn't, he felt rather nauseous whenever he put it on.

He'd tell you all about his plan in getting back together with MJ, to make her fall back in love with him, with how he promised both her and Ned that he'd come back for them, but his childish promise seemed more difficult to pull off seeing that they had moved to Massachusets a couple days ago.

He found a job at the computer store down the street, one of the last of its kind, and glimpsing at how you had been able to secure that Stark internship a couple years ago, Happy seemed intent on letting you stay as your job in New York continued from the comfort of your room. Moreso, Peter's, seeing how much time you spent there.

"I just," You looked up from your laptop as Peter slammed the door shut, kicking his shoes off with an annoyed huff, "I hate it so fucking much. Seein' MJ with that dick on her socials and Ned watching Return of the Jedi with Flash..." He flopped down on the mattress, his weight pushing you down a bit as you gave his back a comforting rub, your fingers tugging on his hair as he whined quietly again, moving so that he could situate his head on your thighs, looking up at his ceiling as he pressed a small kiss against your pants, trying for a smile as you began typing away.

"'M sorry Peter," You glanced down at him, giving him an apologetic grin as you rubbed his shoulders, "It fuckin' sucks, I know," You patted his cheek as you went to type something, letting out a frustrated groan when your code didn't work, forgetting what you were going to say to him when your mind got sidetracked.

He sat up, looking over your shoulder as he read what was on the screen, lips pursing together as he tried to make out what you were doing.

"Need some help?" He offered and had you not been running on two hours of sleep and about seven cups of coffee from the past three hours, you would have said no. But you just pushed it towards him, letting your back fall down as you heaved in a sigh of relief after being hunched for so long.

"When was the last time you slept?" He commented on your drowsy state and you murmured some incoherent words as you gripped onto his pillow.

"What?" He glanced at you, worry taking over his features as you moved in and out of sleep.

"About a day ago," You gave a loud yawn, "Or two," You tiredly rubbed at your eyes, "Maybe t-three, actually," You yawned again, this time louder as you stretched.

Peter instantly put the laptop aside, moving so that you could lay fully on the bed, taking your glasses off as he set them on the little table next to him, folding them as you subconsciously snuggled deeper into his fluffy sheets.

"Y/n," He muttered some things as you yawned again, letting him place his hand behind your back as he lay another pillow underneath your head, "You gotta take more care of yourself, this isn't healthy.”

Your lips pouted as you stared at him through your lashes, thoughts running behind that head of yours as your brows furrowed with one another.

"I got'chu though.” You murmured tiredly, your hands searching for his as you gave them a weak squeeze, earning a gentle one back in return.

"I know," He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he tugged the blanket over your body, "But I'm not always here and you gotta know when to stop, yeah? I don't have anybody else, so I gotta make sure you're doin' fine, okay?" You gave him a slow nod, adjusting your head into the pillow as you gripped onto his hand even tighter than before.

"'M always here," You muttered slowly, "Nothin' safer than spiderman's apartment.” You joked with slurred words, sleep overtaking your features as you nodded off.

"Yeah," He almost choked as he gave you a tight lipped smile, giving the back of your hand a kiss, "I know.”

Peter gave a small chuckle as he fell on the floor, not letting go of your hand as he used the other one to wipe at his tears.

It felt routine to have his eyes water up at the end of the night. Most of the time, he'd know the reason behind them. Some of them for MJ, for the fact that he was never able to tell her he loved her one last time, for the promises he made in the final minutes he was sure he'd never be able to make. For the fact that he'd most likely never be able to sit down with Ned and just watch a movie and laugh and have nothing else to worry about. Other times they were for May and the fact that her blood still stained his hands, no matter how many times you helped him clean them. On the rare occasion, Happy would plague his thoughts, and even worse was when he heard Tony's last words, the deaths that lined his conscience whenever he tried to sleep.

But here, it wasn't for the regret, the pain, the longing he felt regularly.

It was because you held onto him no matter what, that even as you tried to move in your sleep, you held his fingers with all your might. They reminded him that even in the world in which everything lit afire, you were there to put it out. The girl with the large glasses and books overflowing her backpack, the one that painfully waited for him to back after every mission only to watch with tearful eyes as you embraced him once again.

In these hours you reminded Peter that even when everything else he loved had gone to ruin, you never left, even if it wasn't in your power to decide that, even if the fates above decided who's string to meddle with more.

You heard a muted sniffle and eyes instantly snapped open, worriedly looking at him as he quickly wiped them away, but you were already shifting so that you sat on the ground next to him, pulling him into your side as you wordlessly hugged him.

Too many nights you'd waken up to get a cup of water only to find him crying silently to himself, so even when he pleaded for you to just pretend that everything was okay and to go back to sleep, you trained yourself in hearing the little sounds he'd make.

"Wanna go sleep?" You gently offered, yawning as you helped him stand up as you led him back to the bed, removing his coat as you folded it and placed it to the side, helping him situate himself on the bed as his cheeks shined in the moonlight that flooded in.

The two of you constantly switched places in taking care of one another, something that was rare before everything happened, but almost felt like clockwork as you began acknowledging that aside from Ned and MJ, who you rarely heard from anymore, Peter was really all you had left.

You went to go to the couch, your usual resting place when you felt him hold your hand, his brown eyes swimming with a mess of emotions as he refused to let go.

"Stay," He whispered, voice lost to his own mind as he almost beseeched, "Please."

You had slept in the same bed with him before. There was that one time you refused to sleep on his dirty floor and made him begrudgingly share the right side of his mattress with you, or the one time Ned kept on farting and he made him switch places with you, but never when he was this vulnerable.

But you gave him a slow nod, collapsing in when he scotched aside, letting you find your comfort as you edged into his back, the limited space not big enough to house the two of you in the simplest way, but you made it work.

You didn't know just how much it eased Peter when you relaxed into his chest, or the way his hand subconsciously found its way across your chest in his sleep and the way you turned around at one point, your breathing hitting each other as the two of you slept as though one.

---

After that, sleeping alone just never appealed to you anymore.

If not for his strange warmth, Peter was a comfort you seek out when alone, and being safely tucked away in his arms, however platonic, surely helped ease your thoughts at night that he wasn't doing anything idiotic.

He had changed dramatically since the boy you once knew.

He was quieter than before, much more reserved. The nights he went away on patrol were terrible because every siren you heard, every time you saw the clock tick past four you wondered if he'd be coming back.

Every time he left he'd promise he'd return, but it might have been your paranoia from before or the fact that you, alongside a handful of other people, actually knew him, and feared he may never come home.

Of course, he never wanted to leave.

Even though you assured him you'd be fine and could do well on your own, he always seemed to contemplate his departure much longer than he used to in his past, glancing at you and at the colorful array of locks at the door.

His apartment was protected, that much you knew. He had learned some things when he spent that awkward night with Bucky and Sam, but they had shown him some ways to make locks safer, and he had shown you how to turn off the safety on the gun he stored away just in case.

He told you to call him if you even got a papercut, and even though you promised you would, you forgot to call him that one time you accidentally cut yourself when making dinner and got an earful when he came back, fretting over your wrapped up finger as you assured him everything was okay.

But he never really went over what to do in case somebody actually broke in, and listening to the loud thudding from behind the door made you wish he had.

You had called 911 and they had told you they'd be here in a quarter to ten, but the clock on your phone was already read 10:05 so you heavily doubted if those sirens were going to come any closer.

You had called Peter multiple times, always going to voicemail, just as you suspected, and with each lock giving way from under the pressure from the people behind the door.

When he got to voicemail once again you let out a small cry, lips trembling as you tried to cover yourself the best you could with the clothes in the closet you laid hidden in.

"Peter," You let out a yelp when the door finally slammed down and multiple voices could be heard from the outside, "There are people outside and they just came in and I'm in the closet, I-I," You limited your voice to a whisper as the people on the other side shouted from one another, grumbling angrily to themselves as they realized there wasn't anything valuable in the small apartment, "I'm scared, I don't know what to do." You shakily admitted, the yelling never stopping as they searched through the cabinets and drawers.

"Check in there!" One yelled to the other and you couldn't do anything as the footsteps got nearer, ending the call as you tied to make yourself as hidden as possible, the door slamming open as one of the men began searching through the clothing, his eye never catching yours as he yelled back to the man behind him, stating that there was nothing here.

You stayed as silent as you could, not even breathing as the man left, going back to flipping the mattress over as they searched for valuables that weren't there.

You could see through the crack in the door when a flash of red flew by, screams momentary as Spiderman flew in, his masked face looking wildly around, seeing your face peeking out from behind the wide array of the coats as he let out a sigh of relief, not before he gave the two men what he came here to do.

"You touch her?" He snapped, voice lined with fury, something you had never heard before as the two men looked at each other confused.

"Who? We ain't touch nobody!" The one with the beard yelled, struggling against his webs.

"If my girl has a scratch on her fuckin' body you gonna tell me who did it?" Peter's hand flew to the other neck, his grip tightening as he wildly shook his head.

"We didn't touch anybody! Didn't even know somebody was here!" He yelled, words slurring together when Peter removed his hand just a bit, assessing your features as you shook your head, silently telling him that you were fine.

It only took a couple of seconds before he had them tied up and thrown away, letting the police do whatever they wanted with them as he came back, shutting the door with his web as he instantly sprinted to where you were, carefully and slowly peeling you out from your hidden corner as he dusted you off, his hands shaking as he looked over your face, almost not believing what was in front of him.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you wanna sit down?" His thumb swatted at the dried tear marks, pulling you into his chest as he hugged you as tightly as he could.

"I'm okay, I swear.” Peter let out a relieved sigh, nodding more to himself as he pulled away from you, only to bring you back in when the fear from minutes before settled deep into his bones.

"I got your voicemail and I swear I've never run as fast as I did," he muttered into your hair, "God," You heard him groan from above you, "Just about felt my heart stop when I didn't see you.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and you pulled away, giving him a weak chuckle as you tried to wipe away at his tears.

"If I lost you…” He stopped, looking to the side as your hands moved up to touch his jaw, to redirect his focus back onto you, to take the pain away you knew he shouldered so well.

Peter's hair was messed up from the wind, his cheeks red and tinted with salty tracks, but he had never looked more beautiful than he did now, chocolate eyes finding yours as he felt everything in his stop.

"Y/n, if I lost you I think I'd lose just about everything that mattered to me.” He admitted, his hands never leaving the sides of your face as you whimpered, crying as he kissed the tip of your nose.

"Pete..." You couldn't finish the sentence as his hands moved down, gently lifting your face up as he placed a kiss to your lips, your breath catching in your throat as Peter kissed away everything you wanted to say.

He stated like tears and blood, but his lips were soft and forgiving. They moved in tandem with yours, greedy and hungry as he lapped away every sort of pain the two of you had felt in these past months.

It didn't matter that the outside world was slowly catching fire, because here, with Peter kissing you like you were his oxygen and he was a man starved of air, nothing else seemed to matter.

He was rough yet kind, quick as he tried to make sure you were here, that you had been here all along, and you let him move you around, throwing your head back as his lips hungrily moved downward, wet kisses lining your throat as he hungrily marked what was his.

"Peter," Your hands found purchase in his hair, "Pete, look, I'm okay.”He wanted to almost scoff at the way you thought he was kissing you like his life depended on it just because you were fine.

He moved away, lips bruised, red, and plump as his chest heaved, eyes dark with primal desire as he shook his head, hands gripping your waist with a force strong enough to bruise.

"I know darlin'," He pressed a chaste kiss to your nose, "I just gotta show you how much you mean to me, can't wait for a second longer.” And he stuck to his words as he quickly made his way to the bed, laying you down as your hearts intertwined in a peculiar, melancholy yet simple rhythm.

In those months the world forgot Peter Parker, his life was rewritten by somebody who seemed the realize that no matter what sort of power decided to mess with his gloomy, sunken life, you'd always be there.

Peter knew now that love wasn't what carried you through, or perseverance or the sheer fact alone that you were you and nothing could break the two of you apart, it was that when the world forgot Peter Parker, you could never forget the boy who stole your heart those years ago, the one that made his way into your very mind and refused to leave.

His life would never be the same again, no matter how much he wished it would be. The burden of the world would fall onto his shoulders at the end of the day, a cruel game he'd be tested with at every hour, but he swore that as long as he'd have you, he'd do whatever he could to make this cruel life somewhat sweet again.

---

[charliepoopyfart]

Based on that one scene from mignon...you know the one I'm talking about

Big beefy needy boys who can’t wait to fuck you so they just push your panties to the side so they can sink their cock into you. He’s shaking from how badly he needs you. His cock drags along your gummy walls while he whimpers to you how it’s his first time. 

“Is this your first time?” he whimpers in your ear.

You can barely answer him when he’s plunging his cock into you nonstop. He has you in a mating press while he whispers the dirtiest thoughts in mind. His cock feels impossibly thick gliding in and out of you. 

“Fuck it’s so good baby” he whimpers.

You can only reply with whimpers of his name. His cock feels so deep inside of you. Your nails drag down his body as he thrust into you wildly. His whimpers and moans begin to fill the room, clouding your thoughts. He’s completely losing himself in you. The squelching sounds of your cunt has him desperately craving more. 

“Look at you, drooling all over my cock” he whimpers  “ Such a good girl for me” he breathes.

His breathing is shaky. He’s trembling as he fucks you. He feels like he might burst but he’s silently begging himself to hold it in. He wants to feel you, he needs to be inside of you feeling your warmth. The pleasure takes over him. He’s fucking into you at an animalistic pace. 

“Sl-slow down” you whine feeling yourself falling apart at his mercy. 

He can barely hear you over the loud slapping of his balls against your ass. His head is in the crook of your neck as he groans at the feeling of you stretching around his cock. 

“I’m gonna cum baby” he whines “ I’m gonna give you so much cum baby, fill you up and make you nice and full” he babbles.

Words spill past his lips like water. He’s babbling about how much he loves your pussy, how he wants to stay in it for forever.His cock twitches inside of you and you know he’s close. He sits up pulling you with him so that you're sitting on his lap. His hand slides underneath your panty to grip your hip so he can hold you up. He fucks up into you groaning at the way your chest jumps from each thrust. 

“Does that feel good baby?” he groans 

You nod your head barely able to form the words. Your moans fill the room you can barely think straight. It's too much the way he ruts his hips up into you. He’s looking into your eyes daring you to look away. He wants to see the pleasure across your face. He wants to watch how good he makes you feel. You mouth hangs open as moans spill past your lips as you beg him to fuck his cum into you.

“You’re clenching around my cock so much baby. You can cum if you want” he says breathless “Cum as much as you want baby, I’m not stopping though”

Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, Atsumu, Suna,Gojo, Choso, Itadori, Geto

[charliepoopyfart]

“She My Best Friend, Yeah We Not a Couple.”

Synopsis. You know it’s wrong to fuck your best friend. But how can you complain when you’re slammed against the library desk and stuffed full of his big cock like this?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, panties in your mouth (+ some other very heinous things), really fucking dirty, public sex, jealous sex (from his side), pet names (my angel), swearing.

Word count. 1.3k

A/N. My ancestors are prolly so proud of me rn. Art by @_3em on X.

“Best friend” his ass. 

It’s laughable really - the way those other losers think they have a chance with you when you’re begging for his dick every night. 

He’s known you since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - and right now he’s got you sitting prettily on his lap in a study room tucked on the campus library. Your needy mewls are muffled into the crook of his neck as he holds you steady by your hips, the length of his achingly hard cock nudging the line of your ass. 

Panties hastily pulled to the side, your slick pools on his flushed tip, dripping along his length to his tight balls. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your racing pulse, he drags his hefty erection teasingly along your dripping folds. 

God, he could feel the way your pussy was clenching desperately around nothing and it was driving him insane. 

Surely that study buddy of yours could wait a few minutes. Who did that scrub even think he was? Eyeing his pretty lil’ best friend like that.

“Hngh- please, I want-.” you whisper into his ear, the heat of your breath sending blood rushing straight to his already rock-hard cock. Your needy whimpers are cut off as he subconsciously thrusts in-between your swollen folds, juices making the prominent veins along his length glisten.

Fuck, this was getting too much for him too. 

“Tell me what you want, my angel.” he leans down to murmur raspily in your ear, sending a trail of goosebumps down your spine. You were so fucking hot. 

That scrub couldn’t even imagine this. How perfect you were. How wet you were for him. How lustful your voice is as you sinfully whine, “I want your cock in me so badly. Want you to fuck me right here. Right now.”

With lightning speed, he’s got you bent against the cold surface of the library desk, painfully hard cock throbbing under the thin material of your panties. You gasp as his length grinds against your quivering cunt.

Having you splayed out so sinfully for him, he’s never been more thankful that the old librarian was such a heavy sleeper - probably wouldn’t wake up for a stampede of elephants if it happened. 

“This shit is getting in my fucking way.” he groans out as a large hand grabs your soaked panties. 

A sharp rip! of fabric sounds throughout the still air of the study room. “Much better.” he grins dangerously, harshly groping every inch of skin now laid completely bare for him.

“Please. Put it in.” you mewl, voice dripping with need for him. Fuck, he’ll never get used to this. 

“Shhh, my angel.” with a low hiss, he bullies his thick cock into your dripping cunt.

“God. S’tight, so tight. Pussy so desperate for me hah- sucking me back in. She doesn’t want me to leave, huh?” he grits out through strangled moans as he sheaths himself completely into your wet pussy. Shit, at this point they’ll hear him and not you.

Warm walls squeezing him to insanity, he fucks you at a feral pace, pulling out till his tip teases your dripping entrance, only to ram himself fully inside once more. 

“Ah! Hngh- It’s too much. Please!” 

He would never get to know the feeling of your snug cunt desperately sucking his cock back in every time he rams into you. He would never get to feel the way your walls clamp down on him, struggling to adjust to the burning stretch of his thick cock. He could never make you feel this good.

That loser probably has a small dick anyway.

He drinks in the pornographic ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth at each harsh thrust, feeling intoxicated off the animalistic cadence of his hips, and the thick white ring of slick forming at his base. 

“Shit. Always so good f’me, my angel.” he groans, your pretty moans only making him thrust impossibly deeper in a way that has you scrambling to hold onto the table for support. 

His throaty groans and the merciless slapping of his heavy balls against your ass echoes across the room as his fingers dig deep purple marks into your hips.

“S-someone’s gonna hah- hear-” 

“Then we must be quiet, hm?”

Before you have a chance to process what’s happening, the wet panties that were tightly gripped in his hand are now stuffed into your mouth. You moan around the large fingers forcing themselves inside, cold rings stretching your mouth as much as your cunt.

His cock twitches as he forces you to taste yourself, feeling you getting impossibly wetter. That’s his girl. 

He could never fuck you like this. 

Moans now muffled by the fabric in your mouth, his saliva-coated fingers move down to draw rough circles on your clit - making you yelp at the stimulation. 

He knows someone could walk in at any moment - and a part of him actually wants it to happen. Let them see, he thinks. At least then those fuckers would finally take a hint.

A soft whine of his name snaps him out of his pussy-drunk thoughts, blown-out eyes now meeting your dazed ones as you lock eyes with him over your shoulder. Lipstick smeared, tears clinging to your lashes, and panties half-hanging out of your kiss-bitten lips.

Ah, actually scratch that - he’s gonna keep his pretty lil’ best friend all to himself.

“Shhh, my angel. I’ve got you.” he towers over you, pressing a trail of kisses up the curve of your spine before angling your neck to attach his lips with yours. He delights in your surprised squeal, clearly not expecting him to kiss you with your panties still in your mouth. But for you, he’d do anything.

Cock twitching, your feet almost lift off the ground as the rhythm of his hips gets harsher. He intertwines his tongue with yours, sweet slick-soaked panties wrapped in the middle. Fuck, he was going insane at the contrast of your soft tongue with the lacy fabric of your panties, hand around your neck getting tighter.

You moan incoherently as he sucks on your tongue, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth and onto the polished library desk. 

It was so fucking lewd. Doesn’t matter how many losers swarm around you - none of them deserved you. None of them could fuck you like this.

Your sounds of pleasure get more and more frantic as his cock still slams inside you relentlessly, ringed-fingers continuing their abuse on your clit - getting closer and closer to what you crave.

He can feel the way your walls flutter so snugly around him. God, he’s so fucking turned on that he doesn’t know whether the heartbeat he feels between his legs is his or yours.

Neither of you have to wait long. His tongue still continues its dance with yours, around your soaked panties, as you both cum with a muffled moan. 

Your pussy clenches around him as you climax him as if to milk his cock for all he’s worth. And you do, thick ropes of his hot cum painting your pulsing hole white. 

Riding out both your highs, he fucks his cum into you animalistically - feet lifting off the floor at his firm grip on your waist and the sheer power of his rough thrusts.

So messy. Damn, he has to send the librarian an apology gift later - a fruit basket or something, he wonders, barely lucidly. 

His mind is still foggy as he pulls his sensitive cock out, and pockets your panties for a lonely night without his dear best friend. Promptly plugging his fingers in your quivering pussy, cum smearing on his fingers, he mutters out a quick “Keep it inside.”

Walking out of the heavy, sex-filled atmosphere of the study room, he bumps into that fucking study buddy of yours - running late and clearly surprised to see him there.

With a slow smirk, “Sorry in advance, my girl made a bit of a mess in there. Hope you don’t mind.”

Hey, this is what best friends are for, right?

- GOJO, GETO, Choso, Tsukishima, ATSUMU, SUNA, Oikawa, Kuroo, EREN, Armin

A/N. Teehee *blushes like a slut*

Longfic Sunday incoming if I manage to write 6k words by tomorrow.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[charliepoopyfart]

bury me (raf x mc, nsfw)

wc: 3949 rating: E warning: pussy eating, strip tease

Up until the moment you’re sat in the entertainment room that’s apparently been renovated on emergency notice, you don’t quite believe the situation you’ve found yourself in. 

It started as an off-handed comment you didn’t think much of. Frankly, you didn’t think anything of it—the two of you were watching a movie (ok, Magic Mike, it was Magic Mike) and you mentioned, casual as ever, that you’ve always wanted to see a lap dance up close. 

Rafayel went still. But Rafayel goes still at the strangest things—he once froze up at the sight of you petting a cat on the sidewalk and fell to the ground right next to the fire hydrant, in broad view of everyone walking down that very pavement—so again, you didn’t think much of it. Maybe he wanted to see a lap dance up close as well. Maybe, irrationally, he got a little jealous at the thought of you thinking of watching other men grind against flushed women, eyes bright as they watch the sheen of sweat on thick muscles centimetres away from their face. 

You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect—

“You spent how much on the lights?” You ask, bewildered. “You got these custom made?”

“I wasn’t about to install cheap LED lights in my house,” Rafayel replies, fiddling with something in the corner. “The cost doesn’t matter. The real expensive baby was the audio system, but I already owned that before I got the bright idea to remodel this place.”

“You spent money to turn a room in your house into a strip club?” You say, voice slightly hysterical on the last two words. You almost don’t want to know the answer to your next question, but things have already progressed far enough. There’s no coming back from this. “Where’s the stripping pole?”

Rafayel shrugs. He’s wearing this thin, sheer fabric; so pale it’s almost transparent. It clings to the width of his shoulders, dipping down between the slope of his shoulder blades and the top tapers off at his waist. When he turns around, you can’t help but stare at the (quite frankly) whorish cut at the front. 

The front of the shirt has this deep plunge all the way down to his abdomen. It’s practically two strips of fabric loosely folded over each other, and if he bends over, you get a full view of the hard planes of his chest and the curve of his tits. 

He’s also wearing leather pants. Did you mention that? They look like they were painted on. The material stretches tight over his thighs, making him look even taller than he already does. 

His feet are bare, toes curling into the rug covered floor. Rafayel stands there, weight shifted to one leg as he always does, and he practically preens under your undivided attention. Under your greedy, hungry gaze as you run your eyes up and down his body. 

Behind him, the stereo system flares to life. This persistent, thumping drum beat slowly starts to build.

“Can’t we just—you know?” You say without thinking, leaning forward instinctively at the thought of getting your mouth on Rafayel. Has he even looked in a mirror before he decided on this particular set of clothes?

Rafayel smirks. Fuck, you swear you can see the literal imprint of his cock through his pants. 

“Not yet,” he murmurs, voice honeyed as he takes his sweet time to walk over to you, that casual, loping stride that you can’t look away from. “Be patient.”

“This is the first time you’ve turned down my offer,” you say petulantly. “Please?”

“We haven’t even gotten to the good part,” Rafayel says, eyes glittering as he leans over. His hands land on the back of the curved sofa you’re seated on—they frame you like a solid wall of muscle, caging you in his embrace. His legs are on either side of your thighs, close enough that you swear you can feel the kiss of leather against your skin, the sheer heat radiating off his body. 

The beat is loud, now. It’s loud enough that it sounds like you’re at a club; it sinks through your chest, filling your body up like a balloon as it seizes your senses. Your heart pulses in time with the heavy, throbbing bass—you stare up, eyes wide as all you hear is the sound of your heart and all you see is Rafayel’s eyes. 

You could drown in that gaze. You know you could. 

“No touching,” Rafayel breathes out. When he bends over, cheek barely milimetres away from your own, your breath hitches at the view down his shirt. “First rule of the club, Miss. No touching the performers.”

“Raf,” you whine, fingers curling desperately into fists by your side as you trace your eyes over the curve of his Adam’s Apple, the crook of his shallow collarbone, the slope of his tits and the fucking sight of his nipples, pebbling from the cold. You want to flick them. You want to put your hands on his abdomen and cup his tits and you want to mess him up. 

“It’s better when you wait for it,” Rafayel murmurs. His breath is hot against the crook of your ear, and you can feel the break in his breathing when he laughs. “Do you like this?”

“Do something,” you whine, tilting your head back just to get a better look at the lithe line of Rafayel’s body hovering over yours. It’s driving you insane, having him this close but not touching—you’ve been conditioned to expect skin contact from Rafayel, his little absent-minded touches as he grazes his shoulder against yours, a hand curving around your waist to gently nudge you aside when he walks by, fingers wrapping around yours. 

When he exhales, you swear you can see it. The shadow of smoke in the dim light, swooping down in the empty space between both of your lips. It’s maddening having him here, having this sliver of space between you two. You could reach up around his waist and drag him down; you could wrap one hand around the base of his neck and pull and he would go, sweetly, obediently, and he would make the most delicious sounds into your mouth. 

You know this. You know it like you know the back of your hand, because he’s done it a million times before. You think you’ve never known anyone as well as you know Rafayel—like looking into a deep pool of still water and finding your reflection looking back. 

Rafayel hums, the heat of his breath scattering over your collarbones as he rolls his hips. You swallow, mind spinning from the slightest scrape of tight leather against your thighs. He does it again, hips grinding in this slow, torturous move right above your core.

“Your muscles,” you say weakly, eyes riveted to the tension in his abdomen. His muscles are taut, pale skin clearly visible through the dip in his shirt. A bead of sweat drips down, tracing a path between his pectorals and down, down, down—

Your eyes follow it greedily, wishing you could chase after it with your tongue. 

“You look delirious,” Rafayel whispers, his voice low and hoarse. There’s a husk to his words, and you can’t help the way you swallow, fingers tightening further into fists. You’re familiar with that voice. That’s how he sounds after he’s been worked up beyond belief, until all he can think of is laying you out and eating you clean. 

This is clearly doing it for him too, just as much as it’s working on you. The lights flicker, bleeding from one color into the next. It’s crazy how Rafayel looks bewitching in every color; the neon red light looks like crimson splashed across his face, highlighting the cut of his cheekbone and the glint of his teeth when he smirks at you. The blue light casts his face into darkness, smoothing his features out and the shadow stretches over him, the color melting into his hair. He looks like a siren rising out of a water surface, eyes half-lidded and lips barely parted, fingers itching to steal your soul away. 

You’re possessed by the sudden desire to dump a glass of water on him. This look would be greatly improved if he was drenched to the bone, you think dizzily, with crystal droplets hanging off his eyelashes, dipping in the crook of his lips, pooling in his clavicle. His shirt, translucent as it is, would turn completely transparent. It would cling to his skin even more than it already does. 

“Please,” you beg, not even sure what you’re begging for. His hands on you. His mouth on you. His weight on you, pressing you down, holding you in place as he does whatever he wants to your body. 

His smirk is so self-satisfied that you want to kiss it off his lips. 

“Patience,” he murmurs. Rafayel braces his knees against the seat of the couch and leans back, wearing a brazen look as he looks at you. His smile spreads as he crooks his fingers at you—you bend forward, lips parting as if ready to use your tongue to trace the grooves on his abdomen.

Rafayel laughs. It’s a smug sound, but you can’t even fault him. He cuts a stunning figure like this, thighs spread and framed in shining leather, shirt so low and open that you don’t know where to look; the light drips over his skin like someone poured liquid gold all over him, drenching him in a moving pattern of red and blue lights. 

He holds a hand out. “Your hand,” he says, and you quickly put your palm in his like you’re no better than a dog. 

“Thank you, baby,” Rafayel teases, flipping your hand over to press a kiss to your fingertips before he pulls it to his jaw. You flex your fingers, trying to swallow past the sudden thudding of your heart as he presses your hand to the slant of his jaw, down to the line of his neck. 

You’re not given any time to linger on the heat radiating off his body. He pulls your hand further down, your fingers grasping uselessly at the meat of his chest, trembling as your palm flattens against his skin. 

And then, as if he’s been doing this all his life, Rafayel arches his back. His muscles roll in this slow, sinuous movement as he drags your hand down his abdomen. 

You can feel it in aching clarity. The expanding of his rib cage as he breathes, the tension in his muscles as he clenches his abdomen to even out the grind of his hips. The heat, that absurd, blistering heat that you’re certain will melt your fingerprints clean off your fingers. 

He does it again. Leans forward, eyes glittering in the flickering lights as he arches his back, letting you feel the way his muscles move under his skin as he rolls his hips. 

Without thinking, you reach forward with your other hand. You’re not even sure where you’re aiming at—you just want to get your hand on him. The details can be handled later. 

But Rafayel catches your wrist before your fingers even scrape past the loose material of his shirt. “No touching the merchandise,” he chides, holding you in place.

Your fingernails scratch pointedly at his abdomen. It makes him huff out a laugh—a surprised, breathy sound that for some reason gives you the urge to get your mouth on him now. 

“I’m already touching you,” you breathe out, eyes glazing over when Rafayel clenches his abs just to watch the way you lose focus. 

“I let you touch me,” Rafayel shoots back, smug as ever. “You don’t get to touch me without permission.”

“Raf—”

“Just enjoy it, Miss,” he murmurs, nudging one knee in between yours to slide your thighs apart. “I’m putting on a show. Don’t you like it?”

You like it a bit too much. All of a sudden, you realise why people like to keep pretty things in cages. Rafayel would look entrancing like that, you think, eyes wandering over his body. Lounging in a long column of water with transparent walls, like a fish tank in an aquarium large enough to store a whole pod of dolphins. Stuck with no where to go. 

But your breath catches in your throat before you can reply with something intelligent. Rafayel presses his lips to the underside of your neck, at the spot where your jaw meets your throat—featherlight, so quickly that you almost miss it.

While you’re frozen, breath trapped under your tongue, he hums and traces a faint path down your body. His lips on your neck, your collarbones, the dip between your tits—he leans down, switching to your bare arm when the fabric of your slip dress gets in the way. 

Surely he can feel it. The pulse of your heartbeat under your skin, a mile a minute, fluttering at the sight of his half-crescent lips trailing against the sensitive underside of your forearm. 

And then he gets on his knees. He’s right there, eyes bright and glittering like jewels under the dancing lights as he leans forward to press the side of his cheek against your thigh. 

You can feel the way his breath heats up against your knee. It feels like he’s burning a mark into you, etching the shape of his lips into your skin. You won’t ever be able to remove it. It’ll be branded into your inner thigh, the crimson half-moon stains that mark you as his.

“Spread your legs for me,” Rafayel whispers, lips curving into a smile. “Open up, baby.”

The flush in your cheeks feels absurd. You must look drunk, inebriated after one too many shots as your thighs spread instinctively to frame Rafayel in between them. He reaches up, each hand wrapping around the outside of your knees, fingers dipping into the crook at the back.

His grip is light, barely any pressure on your legs, but you feel like his hands may as well be two shackles against your knees, holding you in place. 

“Wider,” he says, eyes brilliant in the flickering lights. You could drown in that gaze, if the heat in your core didn’t kill you first. “Come on, gorgeous.”

“Raf,” you groan, thighs spreading even further. It makes you slip from your position on the sofa, inching further down just to make space for your legs to open wider.

The fabric of your dress rucks up around your hips. It folds messily, and Rafayel holds your gaze in this heartstopping, torturous moment as his fingers creep up and under your dress.

There’s something about it. Something you can’t explain, not even with an entire dictionary at your disposal. There is something about the way you can’t see his fingers, his palms as he slides them further up your thighs, below the crease of silk. The way the back of his hands and his wrists slowly, gradually disappear under your dress. While he keeps his gaze on you, eyes burning with such intent and desire it makes you breathless. 

His fingers bump up against your underwear,  the way the fabric digs into your thighs. The shock of it all makes you yelp a little, hands flying forward to feel blindly for Rafayel’s hands under your dress.

You’re not sure what purpose you want to achieve. You’re just—it’s just—it’s just a lot, okay, and the way he looks at you is so—

Rafayel doesn’t do anything. His fingers go still, frozen under your grip, but you can feel the bracing heat of them through the thin fabric of your underwear. Your damp underwear. If his fingers were to slip, you know he would be able to press his thumb against the wet spot right at your slit, or slide higher to press at your throbbing clit. 

You make this low, reedy noise, and let go of his hands. You shift even lower on the sofa, back curved as you lean your head back against the headrest. Your thighs spread just a little bit wider. 

“Thank you, baby,” Rafayel murmurs, eyes finally lowering as he lifts the skirt of your dress. “Look at how pretty you are.”

“Get on with it,” you bite out, voice shaky from arousal. The music is getting to you—the deep, pulsing bass throbs at your temples, holding your heart in a vice grip. The singer is crooning something; his deep, low voice rumbling on and on about sex and you’re too out of it to properly register the lyrics. 

Rafayel pays you no mind. He takes his own sweet time to push your dress further up your hips, exposing the line of your thighs and your underwear to his hungry gaze. 

And then, right under your eyes, he leans in and presses a kiss to your stiff clit.

“Raf!” You try to shut your thighs on instinct, hips jerking at the sudden pressure against your clit, but Rafayel’s hands are firm against the inside of your thighs and he holds you open. He forces your legs wider, and he looks up at you as he fits his mouth to the middle of your panties, tongue flat against where your core burns the hottest. 

Fuck, you think, mouth open as you try to gasp for air. Rafayel is good at this—too good, you think, to the point where you flush when you catch yourself staring at his mouth for too long sometimes—and he breathes out on your cunt, relishing in the way your clit twitches in your panties.

“You’re so fucking cute,” Rafayel murmurs, pulling the fabric taut over your pussy so he can see your swollen clit straining through your panties. He gives it another kiss, and you arch your back at the electricity that lights your body up when he does that. Rafayel knows what you like, and he wields that knowledge like a weapon. 

You gaze at him, eyes half-lidded as you try to reach for his hair. Rafayel ducks away from your searching fingers, giving you a smile when you scowl at him.

“No touching the merchandise,” he reminds you. 

A disgruntled noise leaves your mouth. How are you supposed to hold him in place when he won’t let you touch him? “Take them off, Raf, please—”

It’s as if Rafayel was put on this Earth specifically to raise your blood pressure. Even when he has his mouth on your cunt, face between your legs, he’s still possessed by the overpowering urge to do something that goes against what you say. 

“Not yet,” he says, nonplussed, and drags your underwear to the side to expose your dripping center. “Look at how wet you are.”

Rafayel’s voice is gravelly, hoarse as he stares at you. Your pussy clenches instinctively—his gaze feels heavy, like a physical weight bearing into you. You’d really like a physical weight bearing into you right now, actually, and you know exactly where you can find one.

He presses his tongue to your clit. Your hips spasm, eyes rolling into the back of your head when he closes his lips around your swollen bud and sucks. It feels like fire burning through your entire body, pleasure sparking in your veins when he laps at your clit. You could cum like this, his clever tongue working your clit over and over in the soft wetness of his mouth. 

“So pretty,” Rafayel murmurs to himself, not even caring if you hear. He drags his tongue down, licking along the length of your cunt, spit mixing with the wetness dripping from your pussy. He rearranges his grip on your inner thigh—his palm frames the vee of your hips now, thumb pulling at the side of your cunt to open you up for his taking. 

Rafayel eats you out like a man possessed. There’s this wild, desperate hunger in him, in the way he moves his mouth, the way he surfaces to gasp for air before going back to dip his tongue into your pussy and lick at your insides. He eats you out so greedily that you can truly believe he would be happy here, trapped between your legs and buried in your cunt for so long he goes breathless while you go cross-eyed with pleasure so overwhelming it makes you dizzy.

“Fuck,” Rafayel groans, panting against your cunt. His breath feels like he’s blowing hot smoke against your clit, making it twitch uncontrollably with every gust of air over it. You’re so worked up that just this is enough to make your hips jerk forward, chasing the ghost of his mouth to try to get it back on your cunt. “You taste so fucking good, Miss—”

“More,” you beg, straining against the sofa to try to get leverage, any kind of leverage to tilt your hips up. “Please, Raf, I’m close—fuck, I’m—”

This time, he doesn’t need to be told twice. He moves his head, tongue curling as he fucks it into your throbbing pussy. You’re so close, right on the precipice—it’s like your entire body is a livewire, hips jerking uncontrollably whenever his tongue hits that sweet spot and making your nerves light up with pleasure. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open; you want to keep your eyes on Rafayel, to see the way his curls bounce as he mouths hungrily at your cunt. But the pleasure is so devastating, so mind-numbing that you can’t help the way your eyes flutter shut, your body unable to concentrate on more than one sensation at once. 

Your clit is so stiff that it aches. And when Rafayel licks at it, flicking his tongue against your swollen clit and relishing in the desperate, needy sounds falling from your mouth—

It crescendos like a tsunami wave rising to its peak. Your body freezes, mouth falling open as you arch your back, pushing up, up, up against Rafayel’s tongue. It spreads through you like a wildfire, burning you up from the inside out. Your mind is blank, you can’t think, you can’t even make a sound. 

You just gasp, silent as the orgasm crashes over you like the tide, taking you under and drowning you beneath the water. Rafayel keeps fucking going, sucking at your clit to keep you right on that knife’s edge, pleasure melting into overstimulation because he knows you like it when it aches. When it becomes a little biting, when it starts to hurt just a little. 

He laps at your clit until you shiver, hands weakly pressing against his forehead. Rafayel gives your cunt one last lick, sucking at the lips of your pussy and licking his lips when he catches your gaze. 

“All done?” He asks, reaching up to wipe the visible remnants of your orgasm from his jaw. “Another one?” 

“I want to suck your cock,” you say, the breath still mostly fucked out of you. “Come—come here.”

“Nuh-uh,” Rafayel tells you, rising back to his feet. The music is still thumping through the walls, resounding in the room as you tilt your head back and stare up at him. “I’m not done. It isn’t a strip show until I’ve gotten naked.”

You blink at him. He still—

“Okay,” you say uselessly. You can see the thick outline of his cock through his pants, so visible that you’re almost certain the leather will burst. “Go on.” 

He gives you this smug, confident smile, and you politely don’t mention how the bottom half of his mouth is still wet from your cum. 

==

© rrrrinmaru 2024 | no unauthorised publication or reproduction allowed

[charliepoopyfart]

♡BEEKEEPING AGE - SATORU GOJO♡

YOUR FRIEND’S DAD IS BEEKEEPING AGE, PERFECT FOR A FUCK, AIN'T THAT? TW: dark content, MDNI (18+), smut, virginity less, age gap and i mean a big one, corruption kink and Gojo being a pervert, reader is being a bad friend (don’t sleep with your friend’s fathers pls), Gojo-hoe baby wc: 2k

♡DILF Gojo♡ who you first met when his son brought you over one evening, you being his “good friend”. Satoru normally doesn’t care much for whatever company his son has, but also never experienced such precious little sweetness, all shy’n nervous.

It’s almost unnatural how he’s the one asking to be introduced to you and actually makes an effort to get your name; some school girl you are.

You can’t help but blush under his intense gaze, stuttering over your words as you manage a weak smile. “You’ve got a lovely house, Mr. Gojo”

Adorable is the first thing that comes to his mind as he smiles back at you, so charming you might as well melt on the spot “Thank you, darling. Aren’t you a nice little lady?”

♡DILF Gojo♡ who refuses to let you call him by his last name, insisting you use his first instead. He’s by no means, old, at least not old enough to be referred to so formally. Perhaps, you could consider him a peer instead? Or maybe something else entirely.

♡DILF Gojo♡ who has since been pastering his son to invite you over for dinners, hang outs, (you name it) using your parents frequent absence as an excuse to get you to come. After all, what good is it to sit alone at home when you can sit with him instead?

“Be honest pumpkin. Aren’t you sad, left all on your own? You know you’re always more than welcome to join me us here”

♡DILF Gojo♡ who’s always there to pick you up from your classes, even though you don’t attend the same ones as his son. His excuse? “I was nearby anyway, why not pick you up while I’m at it”

He makes you sit in the front seat, and although you feel slightly awkward, he ensures you it’s no problem. He’s rather have you ride his dick car, than a school bus anyway.

“Sweetheart, it’s my pleasure. Don't you know it yet?”

♡DILF Gojo♡ who sees you bend down and can’t help himself as he moves his hand to smack your soft ass, sliding downwards to cup it in a subtle yet noticeable pinch, making you flinch and straighten up instantly. He then proceeds to lie his way out of it, pretending he mistook you for his wife.

"It's just that your hair flows over your face just like hers. I must be getting old, can't see as well as I used to." His lips curl into a half apologetic smile that almost tricks you into thinking he didn't mean it. Almost.

♡DILF Gojo♡ who’s kind enough to offer his assistance in your studying sessions, jumping in on the opportunity to spend one-on-one time with you.

He always makes sure to sit close enough so your thighs brush against one another, his hand reaching to gently tug the strands of hair behind your ear as you ponder over a particularly hard maths problem, biting down on your pen as you concentrate.

It makes him bite down a moan of his own, just the sight of you looking so adorable makes his cock strain against it’s coffins, but he holds back from acting upon it and instead leans closer to whisper soft praises into your ear.

“You’re such a smart girl, dear. Such a pretty, capable sweetheart.”

♡DILF Gojo♡ who peers down at you from under his expensive black lenses, making you squirm in your spot as a warm feeling spreads down your belly, all the way between your legs. He knows what kind of effect he’s got on you, and he absolutely thrives in it.

He has his hand brush up and down the length of your spine, stopping a little too far down, sometimes teasing you by pinching the fat of your lower back before pulling away as if nothing happened.

♡DILF Gojo♡ who asks you about your personal life, probing you into opening up to him. Anything you have, he'll listen, but mostly he just wants to know how many of your firsts he'll get to have.

"Have you ever kissed before, pretty girl?"

You swallow hard, not knowing what to do. But then, his lips find yours, his tongue seeking entry. It's the first time you've ever been kissed by a man. His lips are soft yet forceful, taking control. His hands roam over your back, guiding you into his embrace, moaning at the feel of your flush against his chest.

♡DILF Gojo♡ who’s your first everything. He’s been dreaming of it ever since he saw you, imagining what it would be like to nest between your soft milky thighs, to have you cry out his, and now he's about to fulfil it

“Everything’s alright pumpkin, take a deep breath f’ me and relax, ok?” His voice is velvet smooth in your ear as he calls to calm you down, seeing glimpse of distress you hoped to hide from him. He adores the way you try so hard to look unbothered in front of him, he really does.

Big hand brush against your supple thigh, giving it an affirmative squeeze, the other fisting his cock, teasing it's angry red tip against your entrance, slowly adding pressure. “I’m gonna put it in now, alright? Be good f’me pumpkin and keep your legs spread”

You bite down on your lip, nodding your head hesitantly, as you feel him slowly push past your hymen, making you whimper in pain.

“You're so tight, sweetheart," Satoru breathes out, almost in disbelief. He stops for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size and girth. "Try to ease up f’me, I promise it'll feel good soon."

You cry out in pain as he pushes deeper into you, feeling the size of him stretching you beyond limit, yet somehow it also triggers a strange mix of pleasure-pain. Through tear-filled eyes, you see his satisfied smile growing wider as he sees how much your body is adjusting to him.

"That's right, baby. Breathe through it. You'll feel so much better once I'm all the way in." His voice is reassuring, yet tinged with desire as he speaks.

Slowly, he bottoms out, filling you up completely. You feel full and uncomfortable, that’s to be expected with a 9 inch dick inside you but the excitement of being with him makes everything seem worth it. "See, that wasn't so bad, now was it? You're a natural."

His words mirror his actions, and soon enough, you manage to nod, your breathing gradually calming down. "... Yeah, I think so."

Gently, he holds your hips, shifting his focus to your glistening breasts. His lips brush against your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine. "You're so tight and responsive, so precious. How could anyone not want you?" His whispers are carrying double meanings that you can't ignore. "Did anyone ever give you this kind of attention before?"

"N-no sir, o-only -ah you!” You manage to choke out, arms linking behind his neck, pulling him closer as tears slowly drip down your puffy cheeks, trying hard to keep quiet

Maneuvering you into a more comfortable position, he starts a steady rhythm, each thrust causing your breasts to jiggle invitingly. The sight is enticing, and his eyes never leave it. Despite the taboo of it, you're turned on, your heart racing as you find yourself getting lost in the moment.

He’s chuckles softly, quickening his pace slightly. "You're too sweet, baby. Don't worry, this part just gets better. Feel free to call me Satoru, okay?" He murmurs, the nickname seeming to suit him perfectly. Your honesty warms him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"It's alright, my angel. This is all new for you. Let me show you how it feels to be with a real man." His voice is confident, his thrusts becoming a bit more forceful. You gasp, noticing the new change, but before you can say something, his mouth claims yours, his tongue tantalizingly tracing your lips, urging you to open for him.

Your thighs are clamped around his waist, your nails scratching his back, silently begging him to continue. His rhythm becomes frenzied, rougher, turning the moment into a whirlwind of stolen breaths and passionate kisses. You moan into his mouth, your tears now mingling with his saliva, creating an unforgettable memory.

His eyes glint with satisfaction, watching as you squirm under him.

"Oh, you're so wet. It's as if your sweet little pussy knows who it belongs to," he says between panting breaths, speeding up his pace. "I’m gonna ruin it for anyone else, alright? Make you only mine." Reality starts to blur, and his words begin to grow hazy.

You close your eyes, surrendering to the throbbing pleasures. You can almost feel the edge...

"Not yet, baby, not until you say it." His voice snaps you back to reality. "Say that you're mine, that you want me." He pauses, giving you a chance to catch your breath. "Come on, darling, you know you do." And you know he’s right.

♡DILF Gojo♡ who makes you belive he's the only man for you. The only man you’re willing to give yourself to, to let him shape and mold you to his liking. He’s already got your firsts, so why not just have you whole?

a/n: imagine a dilf Gojo. Heals your daddy issues huh? Probably not but id take it either way. Alas, slut, slut, slut shaming!!

[charliepoopyfart]

𝑹𝑨𝑭𝑨𝒀𝑬𝑳, 001.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘮 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯, 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴, 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘐'𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦."

★: please don't tell me that this would suit zayne more i realized that it was too late and i felt too lazy to change it. besides rafayels growing on me so i had to write him. i also got lazy by the end and didn't proofread this so don't expect much T_T reblogs and any possible thoughts are appreciated!!!! <3

★ oral (f. receiving) + body worshipping + whiny couple + fingering + aftercare mentioned + doing it while being sick may not be the best idea but who cares!

An act of kindness is what has started it all, really. He often times thinks of you as a thick-skulled, naive girl thanks to your thinking mechanism that pushes you to go above and beyond just to lend a helping hand—but how can he blame you, really? It's not some grand gesture for a spotlight; it's just you being yourself. A courageous heart, pulsating with an urgent need to make a difference. Regardless of the timeline, the universe, or the body you inhabit, your soul always manages to peek through the cracks in the shell. Unaware that you leave an imprint with every breath, he worries that your innocence and tender heart may be a permanent fixture.

Rafayel should have realized you were trouble from the start.

Once you catch wind of someone in need, nothing else seems to register in that mind of yours.

He should have steered clear of you, or perhaps he should have wished for selective memory loss, anything to rid himself of the torment that plagued his every moment at the thought of you. Whether it's a curse or a blessing, he can't be certain, and the uncertainty gnaws at him. Memories of his days submerged in the depths of despair, yearning for you like a man starved... Truly, a memory loss would have spared him those endless, restless nights haunted by your memory. He vividly recalls the relentless hunger for the connection between his mind and yours. He used to believe that waiting for the one you love should be painless, like a fairy tale reunion. However, reality was far from enchanting, his days consumed by torment. Your radiant face invaded his thoughts every time he closed his eyes, and sometimes, he didn't even have to delve into the realm of closed eyelids. Whether it was his mind playing tricks or a disconcerting desperation for you, there were moments he found solace in the dreams of you, right before his wide-open eyes.

In those dreams, your hair took on a darker hue underwater, the waves cradling you warmly, dispelling any fear. He was convinced the ocean would hold you dear, intimately familiar with your name. Your every movement, the way your hair framed your face, the melody of your voice—these elements combined, making it impossible not to be captivated. If he had known the outside world held you, he would never have considered leaving the comfort of his home. Yet, that's the hand of fate, a concept you humans often label as destiny.

Rafayel remains baffled by the mysterious workings of this thing called fate. Is it akin to a magnetic force, or does it mirror the intricate patterns of the ocean? The idea of one's entire life being meticulously planned before even opening one's eyes, waiting for the precise moments when everything aligns, isn't a matter of him being unable to grasp the logic. It's more about the undeniable sense that everything in his life, leading up to the moment he encountered you, felt purposefully directed to bring him to you, and you to him. Love, as it turns out, was a weighty burden he had never anticipated carrying around.

That's likely the reason his gaze carries a tinge of sorrow today. Seated on the vacant space of the couch while you rest, your once radiant eyes now only half-open, your lips slightly parted to ease your breathing. He appears and sounds concerned, though he understands that your fever prevents you from recognizing the emotional turmoil he currently grapples with.

"You're already playing the hero as a Hunter," he remarks, his fingertips registering the warmth of your skin—feverish, and he can't help but check it persistently. "What more do you need to offer as a hero? Was it really necessary?"

You remain silent, the weight of your breath filling his expansive studio, visibly swallowing. No regrets about your actions, but a nagging thought that perhaps a bit more contemplation would have been wiser.

"Hey, don't doze off on me now, answer me."

His tone is insistent, almost desperate, a hint of anger present, though directed more at the ceaseless need within you to be helpful all the time.

"What do you want me to say?" you reply, your chapped lips stinging with each uttered word. "I couldn't have said no, not when it was clear they needed help."

"You could!" Rafayel counters like a petulant child, his selfish side revolving entirely around you resurfacing. "You know you could have! Work and favors are different, and you weren't tasked with assisting a nerdy sociopath in retrieving… what was it again?"

"Rafayel," his name escapes your lips softly, a reminder of the unintentional power you hold over him. The mere sound of his name from you stirs something within him, and Rafayel can't help but feel a bit flustered. "I really don't want to talk about this."

"Fine," he snorts, still clearly irritated but acknowledging your lack of stamina for this conversation. "Go to sleep, then. I'll see what I can do for you."

"Not invading my personal space and laying off the nagging would be more than enough, highly appreciated, really."

A soft, breathy laugh accompanies your words. Despite the occasional sharpness of your comments, both of you understand they're lighthearted, devoid of any malicious intent.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just close your eyes. This is my house, and personal space is a non-existing concept here. Take it or leave it."

"I can't leave; I'm sick," you murmur, your voice huskier than ever due to the severe cold. "Looks like I might have to take it."

"Such a smart girl," he teases, a hint of mockery in his voice, his gaze fixed on your slightly red face. "Wish you could use that pretty brain of yours in situations like this. I feel sorry for you sometimes."

"I feel sorry for myself, too. Your sassiness doesn't spare me even when I'm sick. Plus, this is the worst cold I've ever had. Feels like I'm on my death bed with you right next to me, nagging and scolding."

He's well aware it's just a passing moment, that you'll bounce back from this illness soon enough. Yet, even the casual mention of it in a lighthearted and trivial sentence makes Rafayel squirm uncomfortably beside you.

"Shut up, don't exaggerate."

"Guess who I learned that from?"

"You're insufferable," he declares, finally rising to search for his phone, cast somewhere in his room.

"You won't believe what I'm about to say, yet again," he marvels at your knack for matching his energy, finding himself increasingly addicted to this dynamic.

"Let's get you somewhere more comfortable, maybe you'll actually manage to fall asleep and spare me the constant nagging."

"You're the one who brought me to your place when you found out I was sick!"

You stifle a laugh, resisting the urge to appreciate his caregiver side a bit more. However, your expression gives you away; the corners of your mouth twitch, a smile reaching your eyes before gracing your face.

"Ha-ha, very funny. So funny that I can't even bring myself to laugh, fearing I might never find anything else amusing ever again."

The studio carries a subdued ambiance today, courtesy of the gray clouds and dismal weather outside. Despite the apparent disorder, there's an inherent harmony within its chaotic appearance. Unfinished paintings scatter around, some paints meticulously organized by tone and hue, while others haphazardly rest on a small table in the corner. Curtains drawn wide, tall windows invite as much natural light as possible, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of pressing a seashell against your ear—faint waves hitting the shore.

With a single effortless motion, Rafayel lifts your weakened body, his concern palpable as he carries you to his bedroom. Surprisingly, you feel lighter in his arms, despite your condition, as he carefully settles you onto his bed. Profoundly sweating, you've lost count of the shirts Rafayel has helped you change into. He's already arranged for a doctor to examine you, initially fearing the worst, only to discover it's a severe cold exacerbated by exhaustion. With medication in hand, Rafayel diligently ensures you take your doses, managing the situation with utmost care.

Except for his own sanity.

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state for the first time, you appear unlike the confident Hunter he knows—or perhaps it's his own perception, magnified by witnessing your illness firsthand.

Compared to the rest of the house, Rafayel's bedroom feels refreshingly cool, providing a welcome relief to your feverish skin.

"This feels nice," you murmur as he lays you gently on the bed, the softness of the mattress embracing you instantly, coaxing your eyes closed. "Like being hugged by the sea on a hot summer day. Cool and comforting."

Your words, uttered innocently, send a shiver down Rafayel's spine.

Being hugged by the sea… comforting…

Suddenly, he's overwhelmed by an urge to hold you even closer, to let you feel the steady rhythm of his heart, to assure you that the embrace of the water is always within reach.

"That's probably because your fever hasn't gone down; just get some rest."

"Will you stay here?"

You weakly tug on the hem of his shirt, your eyes opening a bit more, almost peering into his soul.

"I will," Rafayel responds, immediately sensing he can't leave you alone even for a second, though he refrains from showing it. "If you ask nicely enough."

"Oh, shut it," you laugh, covering your eyes with the back of your hand. You stay like that for a while, eyes closed and hand resting on your face, when you feel his warm breath gently caressing your skin. A sudden urge to gulp overtakes you, your heart pounding so rapidly it feels as if it's not a heart but a bird begging to be set free.

"Come on," Rafayel murmurs, every puff of breath warming your face and body, as if you haven't fallen victim to a fever. "Just ask, it won't hurt, right?"

"I've changed my mind."

"Don't spoil the fun now."

His slender fingers wrap gently around your wrist, and to your surprise, his skin is cold against yours. Despite the fever that makes you feel like you're boiling from the inside, your body craves that cool touch. Rafayel lifts your hand, slowly and carefully, pinning it against the soft pillow under your head. Now, you have no choice but to look at him, your clouded eyes meeting his shining ones as both of you let the silence linger. It's not awkward, but neither is it fully comforting—there's a subtle tension you can feel, adding to your fever, and tears well up in your eyes as you stare at him.

Rafayel feels like there's a dagger stabbed right into his chest, turning and turning like a fallen leaf on an autumn day—he shivers the more he gazes into your widened eyes and parted lips. He can't be sure if it's just your fever that's bringing a sweet tint of red to your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and even the tips of your ears. All he can do is hope that, regardless of the circumstances, he's able to make you a bit flustered.

Without much thought, Rafayel presses his palm against the burning skin of your red cheek. You feel soft to the touch, and his hand is cold enough to elicit a calm, sharp breath from you. A thick fog envelops your mind and thoughts due to the fever. While it was worse a few hours ago, it still clouds your basic thinking skills. Your body is burning, but you're sure it's not that feverish. Knowing you're sick adds a psychological discomfort—you subconsciously nuzzle against his big, cool palm. A soft whimper escapes your parted lips as you lean into Rafayel's touch, his palm covering your cheek as your eyes flutter closed in a seemingly calm manner. He doesn't dare utter a word, fearing he might disrupt the moment. It feels intimate and vulnerable; he's offering a simple act born from his feelings for you, and you're fitting into his hands like the matching piece of a puzzle.

"If you could touch me all over with these cold hands, I think this fever would just disappear," you murmur against his palm, resembling a cat seeking affection. Ironically, he doesn't even like cats, but it's not about them—it's about the vulnerability of the act. You may not realize what you're saying, but Rafayel's head spins with thoughts he dare not speak. His fingertips ache to reach and tug on the hem of his shirt you're wearing. He could get you out of it in seconds, exploring every inch of you, leaving nothing untouched.

He releases a shaky breath as his other hand lets go of yours, beginning to touch your face and neck. His breath comes out shaky as his fingertips explore the softness of your face before descending to your neck—a sacred area. He senses you gulp as his palm presses against the front of your neck. The pressure is almost nonexistent as he gently caresses your skin. You don't feel brave enough to open your eyes; his touch alone is intense, and you're uncertain of the intensity awaiting you in his gaze.

"What if I accidentally make you feel hotter than before?" Rafayel breathes out the words, his voice low and hesitant as he whispers. You gulp again, making him feel the movement against his palm as he takes another sharp breath. "We wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Summoning courage, you slowly open your eyes to gauge Rafayel's expression. The moment your eyes meet his, Rafayel swallows back a desperate whimper. He wasn't prepared for your heavy gaze, feeling crushed under its weight, as if there's a demand he might not be able to satisfy even with his all.

Both of you remain awfully quiet as Rafayel's fingers slightly wrap around your neck, fitting like a perfect necklace. He gently gives the faintest squeeze, leaving you lightheaded. Your eyes get even glossier—you're like a doll, spread out in his bed, wearing his clothes. It's impossible not to be overwhelmed.

"I don't think your cold hands would betray me like that," you whisper, still feeling a bit dizzy from the gentle squeeze around your neck. Does he even realize the effect he has on you? It seems like he's testing the waters for both of you, exploring your reactions and his own feelings. The sensation is dizzying for him as well.

Remembering that this isn't the right time for something like this, Rafayel reluctantly pulls his hands back, though he yearns to have them pressed against you. It doesn't matter where he touches you; all he needs is to feel you under his touch.

"No," you whine, eyebrows furrowed. Your hand slowly reaches up, grabbing him by the sleeve of his shirt to bring his hands back to your face and neck. "Keep them, it feels nice."

"You have no idea what you're asking for," Rafayel murmurs. "Just because the waters are cold doesn't mean they won't swallow you whole, silly girl."

"Don't care," you shrug.

Rafayel hums in response, his fingertips trailing down to the hem of the t-shirt you're wearing before his hands sneak under the thin fabric after you give him an affirming nod. "If only you could be good and listen to me," he gently caresses your torso, your skin feeling soft and warm as he can't stop himself from traveling higher. His fingertips touch the fabric of your bra this time, and both of you feel yourselves shaken to your cores; a soft whimper falls from your lips unlike Rafayel, who's giving his all to keep it quiet for now. "Do I have to tire you out to make you sleep?"

You cannot give an answer, you're already feeling high on the feeling as his cold fingertips slip under your bra too, causing your nipples to get hard and perk up immediately. You slightly arch your back to signal him that you want it off, and Rafayel is quick to pick up on that; with a skilled and swift movement of his fingers, he unclasps your bra.

You should've checked the weather forecast more carefully, really—well, you don't feel as feverish as before, but your body feels heavy. Maybe it's because Rafayel is so adept at kneading you into the state he desires you in, who knows? With your lips slightly parted and heavy eyelids veiling the intensity of your eyes, you accept Rafayel's touch as if it's the only thing that can help you now. He pushes the hem of the t-shirt up, and you feel him tapping the side of your body. You sit up slightly to give him the access he asks for, and Rafayel doesn't waste any time. He quickly gets rid of the t-shirt and bra. Now, even the air feels cold against your skin—his hands are comforting, but the air in his bedroom causes shivers to run down your spine.

All that can be heard from Rafayel is his heavy panting as he changes his position, seating himself between your legs and slowly hovering over you as he leans in. You want to tell him that he's going to get sick after all this, but you don't have the heart to mess this moment up by bringing up such an obvious and silly thing. The sound of Rafayel's first kiss right on between your breasts echoes in the room, or that's how it sounds to you, loud and exciting—the kiss makes you breathlessly moan as you grip the sheets underneath your hands. You know what to expect, you know what's to come, but still you can't help that slight shaking of your body when Rafayel's hot mouth takes in your nipple. You try your best to hold yourself back from tugging on his hair, pressing yourself more to him, or any possible desperate act of this neediness that you have for everything that he can possibly give to you. However, as if you've lost control of your movements, your hands softly find their place in Rafayel's soft hair—experimentally tugging on, just to get a muffled deep groan against your skin.

His head moves slightly, his tongue lazily twirling around your nipple as you're withering underneath him—with one hand, palm pressing against the inner side of your thigh, Rafayel makes you spread your legs further so that he can get into a position that's also comfortable for him. Your fever feels as if it's turned into a bonfire, crackling and ready to swallow both of you whole as soft noises of yours fill Rafayel's ears. He breathlessly gulps before teasingly taking the sensitive nipple between his teeth—the act is enough to send jolts throughout your weak body, you tug on his hair harder than before.

"You enjoy that," he whispers, amused and amazed by your reaction as he tilts his head up slightly to stare into your glossy eyes, only to lean in and repeat the same action. You cry out, feeling like you're melting in his hands as he keeps teasing you. He's not doing much, but you're embarrassingly wet as he continues the act. Your panties immediately get damp, and it feels uncomfortable at some point. "Don't get ideas," you say with a huff of air escaping from your parted lips. They feel dry because of the level of heat embracing your trembling body.

"Don't you think that you're a bit late to say that?" He whispers against your skin, his hands resting on the sides of your body, fingers gently caressing the skin accessible to his touch. His mouth keeps pressing kisses all over your chest between each word. "You've given me quite a lot of ideas. I might push the limits to their fullest if you keep making those pretty noises."

"Rafayel," a gulp, loud enough to shake him to his core. "Don't play, please."

He groans in defeat, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly—how can he say no? How can he possibly say no when your heartbeat is loud and fast enough to be heard? He sits on his knees first, freeing you from your sweatpants and your embarrassingly soaked panties—the sight of your glistening folds immediately gets a reaction from him; a desperate whimper as he throws the pieces of clothing somewhere in his room. His fingers move down as he lays on his torso on the bed, sliding down, supporting your legs by grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing your legs to your chest—the position has you all red, the blush spreading down to your chest as you're now fully exposed to him. To ease off the unnecessary tension you feel, Rafayel presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh. His hot breath hits your sensitive skin, and it feels like this has meant to happen at some point, and this was the perfect time.

"You've got to tell me to stop now if you're not sure," Rafayel's whisper intensifies the sensations, and you feel a hot wave hitting you, making you jolt as your knees almost touch your chest. "Because once I get a taste, I know that I won't be able to stop."

His voice sounds much deeper, and you feel almost threatened by the tone alone—possible thoughts related to what he can do to you run havoc in your mind as you stare at him with empty eyes. All you have in your mind is that you need him; you crave whatever he can give you—of course, you're not going to tell him to stop at any point.

So you stay quiet, your eyes locked with his in an intense gaze as he looks up at you from between your legs. With your fingertips gently playing with his hair, you keep your silence, hoping that it'll be enough of an answer. Yet, it turns out that it's not enough of an answer.

"You need to use your words," Rafayel desperately murmurs this time, pressing wet and open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs as he breaths sharply. "Please, tell me that you want it, I need to hear it from you."

He looks so pretty from this angle—well, it's a well-known fact that he is undoubtedly a pretty boy, but the way he's looking up at you with those expecting eyes and that expression of raw need on his face makes something in you snap suddenly. You part your lips, but it suddenly feels kind of embarrassing to say it out loud. Rafayel moves up and closer to your face, his hand cupping your cheek, and you immediately lean into his touch with your eyes closed. "Look at me, baby, say it."

Your lips part apart slightly as you open your eyes slowly, your dry lips press the lightest kiss to his thumb—and it makes him absentmindedly push his finger into your mouth. Ironically, this act gives you the push that you need. Before wrapping your lips around his thumb, you give him what he wants, you say what he needs to hear.

"I want it," just three words, uttered lowly and slowly, and coming out all muffled because of his finger exploring the warmth of your mouth—and it pushes him over the edge. "Fuck," breathlessly falls from his lips, drawn out in a long way. Rafayel pulls his hand back, his thumb staying close to the side of your mouth as he kisses you—the kiss is sloppy and it shakes you to your core. His thumb lightly gets in the way but none of you seem to care about that, the hunger you both have for each other feels insatiable as Rafayel licks into your mouth. Wet sounds of your lips moving hungrily against each other fill his room as Rafayel takes his time with tasting your lips, savouring the taste of your long gone lip gloss as you moan into his mouth, in turn, he happily drinks in all your pretty noises.

You lazily throw your arms over his shoulders, his messy and soft hair meeting the gentle touch of your hands as you two share a desperate kiss. Suddenly, you can't even remember the reason you're here in the first place—all you can think about is the way Rafayel is so, so into you. The way his one hand stays pressed against your cheek while the other pushes your hair out of the way before traveling down to the side of your waist and caressing the skin feels intimate and arousing at the same time. You try to break the kiss, to take a much-needed breath, but Rafayel doesn't let go of you. His hand holds your head in place, his lips getting more eager and hungrier as his body tenses under your skillful hands softly caressing his hair.

"Can't breathe," you finally manage to get the words out when you push him gently by pressing your hands against his chest. His skin feels as hot as your feverish one, but you can still feel the subtle chill to his hands. "Rafayel, wait—let me, ah, breathe a second."

He is long gone, lost in the whirl of primal emotions that he has fallen victim to. His lips are relentless, his head seeking a feeling that he can only expect from you in the crook of your neck—his kisses trail a wet line along the side of your neck. "Okay, okay," he whispers, visibly trying to calm himself down. "I just—ah, shit, I just need to feel you somehow, taste you."

The way his words come from a feeling that is unfiltered and genuine has you succumbing to his desires. You feel the need to give your all to him, to offer yourself in any way possible, in the way he wants you. As you throw your head back to give him more room, a breathless "yeah," falls from your lips. "Yeah, okay, go on."

Rafayel becomes unstoppable once he gets your consent, once he realizes that you're okay with this. And that's really all he has to get from you to feel something snap in himself—a whiny whimper falling from his lips etches itself into the soft and hot skin of your neck as his kisses follow each other all the way to your shoulder.

"I'll be so good to you," he breathlessly reassures you, even though you don't need any reassurance because you know that he will. You know that he will be such a good boy for you—he will be able to tame that burning desire in you in such a way that you'll get hooked on the feeling. "I know," you, too, reassure him, letting him know what he does to you with little to no effort. Just by following an instinctive feeling, he has the power to rule your body and your mind.

His cold fingertips trail down on your body, finding their place in between your legs. The feeling of his fingertips ghosting over your slick folds make both of you moan, your back arches, your body begging to get the best of this feeling. Even though he's peppering your body with open-mouthed kisses, you still feel embarassingly empty somehow—even this thought alone is enough to get you all flustered and shy.

For some time, it's probably minutes but feels like an eternity, none of you speak; just enjoying the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other. Your hands are as mindless as usual, you don't know what to do with them as Rafayel rubs your aching clit in a teasing way; you feel yourself growing impatient, desperately needing him to make you feel full, it doesn't matter how he does it, but he has to do it.

"Rafayel", you whine, impatiently tugging on his hair as your body feels like shattering into million pieces and being kneaded into this desireful shell from the scratch. He hums in response as his kisses start to trail down further down to your torso, it kind of tickles—your body jolts forward when he playfully bites the side of your waist. Swallowing down all the shyness, you try to push his head down a bit more, leading him to your weeping cunt—the sheets underneath you and your inner thighs are damp with your wetness. The way Rafayel manages to get you this turned on and this wet makes both of you gasp when you feel his fingers gathering the slick and smearing it to your folds as if you're not wet enough. The swift movement of his fingers against your folds make you suck in a sharp breath, your body feels like it's about the explode if he makes you wait for it any more than this moment.

"What is it, Miss Bodyguard?" He taunts you, or you think that he does so, it really doesn't matter at this point. "Running low on patience?" His voice is deep, and you feel him finally adjusting his position as his lips press a kiss right to your cunt. You immediately cry out, the movement feeling as intense as it can be. You tug on his hair again, needing the feeling again, and you hear him chuckle. To your relief, he does it again, again and again—teasingly sucking on your clit between the kisses.

"Maybe you should've listened to me," Rafayels pants between the kisses. "I told you to go to sleep, didn't I? You wouldn't be begging like this if you could've just listened to me in the first place."

You cannot find the right piece of your mind to answer him, he's good at making you unable to think properly. Your only answer to him is another low moan—making him get al the answers he needs. You want to tell him to stop the teasing, but the feeling is so good that you can't even acknowledge his words. Rafayel looks pretty from where you're looking at him, his hair doesn't do any justice since it hides his eyes but you're sure that you won't be able to bear the intensity in them if he ever looks into your eyes. His shoulders look broader when he's buried between your trembling legs, the way his biceps flex while his arms are hooked around your legs to keep you in place makes you suck in a shaky breath.

His head moves up and down, his tongue deliberately exploring and tasting you. You grind against his hot mouth, and he groans in response—loving the way you're demanding more from him. It's almost like he exists to serve you; Rafayel has always been attentive to your wants, and to give you what you want now is nothing but pleasure to him. His tongue moves skillfully and also hungrily, you think that you might cum at any given moment—and the thought is a bit embarassing, really, because you want to enjoy the feeling a bit more.

Just as you part your lips to say something, Rafayel slowly pushes a finger inside your cunt—eliciting the most delicious moan from you. You're burning up now from the inside, feeling your body becaoming helpless and succumbing to his mercy as he starts to finger you slowly at first. When your walls stop clencing around him, Rafayel adds the second finger—this is even more dizzying, and you feel yourself getting suffocated by the feeling alone. It'll never measure up to the way his cock stretches you out, but he manages to satisfy you no matter how.

"Hag—ah, Rafayel," you breathlessly mumble, your heavy eyes falling to his broad shoulders again. He's still fully clothed, so you tug on the sleeve of his shirt, that's when he tilts his head up to look into your eyes directly. The sight of him makes you dumb; his chin is wet, his lips glisten, and his eyes carry such intensity and adoration that you stumble upon your own words. Stuttering, you say, "take it off," but Rafayel chuckles as a whisper before leaning down again to suck on your clit while also moving his fingers faster than before.

"No."

"No?"

"No. This is about you feeling good, not about me. Just enjoy it, don't think of anything else."

You open your mouth to protest, but he doesn't even let you start.

"Well, I might be enjoying this more than you maybe, just to let you know. You sound pretty," he breathlessly murmurs, words coming out slurred as his lips presses kisses to your inner thighs. You feel yourself getting even closer, and your body slightly trembles—you can't help but press your legs to the both sides of his head, keeping him there, where he belongs prettily.

"Because you're a pretty girl, aren't you? Even when you're as stubborn as ever, even when you're crying underneath me, you're always a pretty girl, making pretty sounds," his fingers start to move even faster now, your legs shaking on both sides of his head as your chest heaves up and down with your erratic breaths.

Before you need to say it, Rafayel can feel that you're about to cum—your walls clenching around his wet fingers are enough to let him know. He doesn't stop nor does he slows down, on the contrary, in addition to his fingers he gets back to sucking on your clit. It doesn't take you long to cry out his name, or you think so, complete gibberish falls from your lips as you cum—thrashing around his fingers while your body is shaking. Rafayel keeps fingering you and eating you out through your orgasm, tasting you like a man starved as you hear the slick sounds of his fingers and his tongue. Feeling overly sensitive, you gently push his hand back, and he obliges—slowly pulling back to look at your face. Eyes heavy, cheeks tinted with red, chest heaving up and down... he's glad that he's able to paint you in any way in his memories. What would he do if he couldn't do that? Well, he might've had to make you cum again and again until it became impossible to not see you whenever he closed his eyes.

"Ssh, my pretty girl," he whisper as he gets on the same level as your face, there's the slightest smirk on his face as he carefully pays attention to every detail about your face, and your expression. "You good?" Rafayel asks.

"Yeah, yeah I just—uh, I think I just need to..."

"Sleep, maybe?"

"Yeah, that."

Rafayel laughs, low and genuine, soothing you as you listen to it. You want to kiss him, accepting the fact that you'll taste yourself if you do so, but your eyelids feel so heavy that you cannot resist against the drowsiness taking over you.

"Okay, do that then." Rafayel slowly gets up from the bed, and you can only guess how hard he is after all that—your hands ache to touch him, take his hardened cock out of his pants and help him relax, too.

"But you—"

"I told you that this is about you," Rafayel says, walking to the bathroom, You lay on his bed, feeling cold, immediately missing his warmth. He comes back with a wet towel, sitting next to you before he starts to clean you up.

"But, of course, this doesn't mean that I won't ask for what's rightfully mine," he softly chuckles. "But only when you're feeling all better, now sleep."

And you do as he tells you to do so, a slight smile forming on your lips as you close your eyes—realizing that you've needed this sleep really bad, but still had Rafayel to serve you like a true devotee.