#Saw another one of these while out the other day and just thought dear God people are reading these? Cultural illiteracy indeed

[nathaslosthershit]

Emotional Times (OP81)

Summary: Pregnancy was a time full of hardships. Hormones on high, stress of the incoming baby, and all the sudden changes were what this father-to-be was expecting, ready to face. What he wasn't expecting was having to battle his pregnant wife's newfound sensitivity to everything that could have her emotions changing in an instant Part of my summer event!

It has been a rough time in the Piastri household. Oscar loves his wife, he really does, and god, would he move heaven and earth for her. In her current state though, she doesn’t know whether she wants heaven or earth and if he brings her the wrong one she will burst into tears, but if he brings her the right one, she will also burst into tears.

There wasn’t any winning. During moments like that, he just had to remember that greener grass on the other side. The other side where he finally has his own little family. 

The couple had also both made peace with the fact he would be traveling a lot during the season and she would have to spend some of her pregnancy by herself. It was easy while she could travel in the beginning but a few complications cut her ability to do so off much sooner than the two would have liked. And she did not like this. 

“Honey, please, get back in bed.” Oscar begged at 5 am. He was ready to head off to his next race, when he unintentionally woke his very pregnant wife up after giving her a kiss on the forehead.

This made her frustrated, she had finally gone to sleep after spending so much of the night tossing and trying to turn and the minute she drifts off he has the audacity to-

Then she realized he kissed her on the forehead because he was leaving her. 

Now, she was holding onto him by the front door, in absolute tears at the thought she would have to do another race weekend alone.

“Please, my love. It absolutely breaks my heart to leave you but I have no choice. Don’t make this harder for me…” Oscar tried to reason with her, but he was on the brink of tears himself seeing how much she wanted him to stay, realizing how much he wanted to stay. But he couldn’t.

“Oscar, I can’t do it, please it's so hard being here all alone. I know it's cliché but I can’t even tie my shoes. How am I supposed to do anything? How am I supposed to take care of a baby when I can’t take care of myself?”

He knew she wasn’t trying to guilt him into staying or make him feel bad if he did leave. These were real concerns she had voiced before. But he felt so helpless in this moment, almost as helpless as she felt constantly. 

The realization hit him, he couldn’t leave her like this. It was unfair to both of them. He had to do something.

“I will figure something out, don’t worry, Honey. Go back to sleep and when you wake up it will be much better, I promise.” He really shouldn’t promise that when he didn’t have a plan, but he couldn’t come up with one while she was sobbing into his neck and holding on for dear life.

With a few hiccups and a small nod, he wiped her tears and gave her a kiss as he left the apartment. 45 minutes later than he would have liked, hopefully the group he was sharing the jet with didn’t leave him behind. 

She already felt better when she woke up, having gotten hours of sleep, finally. It felt so good to wake up well rested and without that many aches. Nothing could bring her mood down.

Except when she couldn’t get in touch with her husband.

She knew he was traveling, that the minute his plane landed he was off to start preparing for the upcoming race. But no calls and no messages soured her mood real fast. 

She tried to shake it off, she went about her day trying not to dwell on it, trying not to send him threatening messages for not answering her the second she texted him. 

A call woke her up the next morning, well it was noon but she still wasn't pleased. Not till she saw who was calling.

“Oh sweetheart! How are you?” Nicole Piastri asked.

If there was one person she loved almost as much as her husband, it was his mother.

“I’m okay, haven’t heard from Oscar much, that asshole.” she grumbled.

“Oh I remember the days, that's why I have my twitter afterall.” Nicole said, making her laugh. It was sometimes a wonder how her husband was Nicole’s son. 

“Yeah well i-”

“Oh crap, honey, I have to go! But I’ll see you soon, okay? Hang tight!” Nicole said before hanging up.

She didn’t have time to dwell on the abrupt end to the call as a knock came from the front door. Connecting the two, she wobbled as fast as she could to the door, where her mother-in-law stood. 

And then she burst into tears.

“Oh, he told me you were going to do that but I didn’t know it would be that immediate,” Nicole said as she went to hug her. 

Through the tears and snot, she asked “Oscar? What do you mean?”

“He said he texted you, gosh, he is the worst at communication for someone who spends so much time on his phone,” she frowned at her daughter-in-law.

Quickly opening her texts, she saw he had messaged her a few hours ago:

Oscar: I told you I had a plan, just a few more hours, my love. I can’t wait to see you in a few days :) 

Thus the mother and daughter-in-law started their girls weekend. My god, it was exactly what she needed. As much as she loved her husband, this was 1000 times better than what she would have done if he was here. And despite how much she missed him, the weekend seemed to fly by. 

Oscar: How is she? I am only half an hour away.

Nicole: Currently napping, but she has been good! Relaxed and happy. Hasn’t even cried in the past few days

Oscar: Wow, I am almost offended she didn’t miss me more?

Nicole: She needed girl time, you couldn’t give that to her sweetheart. She also needed someone who actually knew how to correctly do laundry.

Oscar: Alright, mum, nice talking to you. I'll be back soon, please don’t turn my wife against me.

Nicole: 😉

Just as he did when he was leaving, Oscar unintentionally woke his pregnant wife up when kissing her on the forehead. Unlike when he was leaving, she didn’t get upset. She was too happy to see him that the thought hadn’t even occurred to her.

Holding him in a death grip, she recounted all she did while he was gone. She couldn’t really go out much at this point, so hearing his mom still found a way to make her weekend enjoyable was a relief. 

“I haven’t even cried over something stupid in a while!” She said as she finished her account of the past few days.

“I heard, I am glad you are feeling so much better, my love. I hated being gone but hearing you had a wonderful time makes me so happy.” He said as he began to tear up, thinking about how awful it was to leave. 

“Oscar, come on, just cause i'm not as emotional doesn’t mean you have to make up for it” She teased.

After pestering him about how his time away was, he remembered he had picked up something for her, and while he bought it thinking he would use it to stop her tears, why not just give it to her while she is this happy.

“I picked up your favorite,” he said as he reluctantly handed her the food he got, shuddering at the unusual combination she loved oh so much.

The sound of her son gagging as he watched his wife eat had Nicole coming into the room to investigate. The picture of her pregnant daughter-in-law, happy as a clam while she ate her food, and her son holding his nose and trying to stop himself from throwing up was a sight she committed to memory and knew she was going to bring up for years to come. 

“What have you got there?” Nicole asked, knowingly making Oscar gag again as he was reminded of the food combination.

“Cottage cheese and ketchup,” she answered. Instead of disgust, the couple was confused by the light bulb moment Nicole seemed to have.

“My goodness! That is what I craved with Oscar. Gross to think about now but I loved it then.”

“What! You never told me this?” Oscar asked, astounded he would be the reason his mom had to eat a combination that disgusted him so.

“I was saving it for the next podcast I did. Think I’ll have to talk about this moment too.” His mom teased. 

Rolling his eyes, he turned to his wife and immediately clocked in on the frown beginning to form.

Both mother and son had the same exact thought: Uh oh.

“You- you craved the same thing?” She stuttered out.

“Um, yeah? You okay, Honey?” Nicole asked, now on edge at the incoming storm.

Seconds of silence went by but were soon disrupted by the sounds of his wife’s cries as she took in the information.

“Baby, what's wrong? Why are you upset at that?” Oscar questioned as he went to rub her back in comfort.

“Its just- that is so sweet, and the thought that- that I could be having the same cravings, is just- I just-” His wife didn’t get to finish her sentence as more wails came out, followed by hiccuping.  

Nicole and Oscar looked at each other in alarm as they realized that this was most likely the consequence of a weekend with no breakdowns. They had a long night ahead of them. 

[yvesdot]

I will say that I will always respect a "trashy" "poorly written" Romance novel for which the most the author has to say is that they offered their readers escapism in difficult times—

—over a literary fiction novel with a dozen accolades and book group stickers and blurbs praising it for being a "morally complex masterpiece" that "deconstructs the common narrative on consent in our fraught public discourse" "is sure to incite heated conversation" "offers a shrewd take on gender politics in the modern day" "teaches readers the nature of what it means to be human" or what the crap ever while actually doing Barbie movie politics for three hundred deathly boring pages.

[roturo]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ SHE'S BACK!

GUESS HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN, SO HE HAD TO KEEP IT INSIDE! ₊˚⊹♡ dilf!gojo satoru x teacher!reader

tags: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism, getting caught, he fucks you while he's on the phone, overstimulation, dumbfication, fluff, gojo has an ex-wife, yuuji is gojo's son, age-gap.

A/N: well, this was surely and adventure and maybe self-indulgent title because guess what?, i'm back baby.

It was a nice morning, he felt clean. Like his life was finally steadying. Even after some stressful weeks trying to get rid of his now ex-wife, he won the trial and kept Yuuji. Poor little boy, just turning 5 years old and he’s already facing all this type of stress. But thankfully he will not be experiencing enduring his crazy mother behavior. Which basically was a gold digger, and a bitch– Not that he would ever say that outloud, maybe with other words? Bastard? Witch? Not that it really matters right now.

He could finally take a break now, just focusing on raising his little boy, and being an old boring 31 year old dad. Life doesn’t sound that bad.

“Daddy! Daddy!,” His son went running to his arms, almost stumbling by himself- clear happiness shown on his face. Quickly, Gojo opened his arms ready to lift the young kid. “Miss Y/N congratulated me on my homework! She was pretty amazed!”

Your name wasn’t unknown to him, Yuuji was very open when talking about his favorite teacher, even though he hasn’t seen you yet- from what he’s been told you’re the kid’s favorite, including Yuuji’s. “I had to talk about who’s my hero, and I chose you!” If this day wasn’t going great, it was now. Because his son's comment just made his whole week, life even.

“Oh look dad!” The little boy pointed towards your moving frame, each time getting clñoser towards them. “Daddy, this is Miss Y/N!” Yuuji kept presenting the both of you. He was really excited to present his two favorite persons to each other- but all Gojo could think of what’s how young and beautiful you looked. He expected someone older, maybe even an old lady with wrinkles and that loving grandma vibes, but what he saw made his heart beat in a way he never thought he would feel ever more.

“Daddy? Are you paying attention?” The little boy gained Gojo’s attention back, face now looking at him again. “I’m sorry kiddo, kinda just zoned out there. What did you just say?”

“Uhh, what was it? Oh! Did I tell you Miss Y/N told me you were a very handsome man?”

“Yuuji!” His gaze moved towards your blushed face, a hand covering part of your face. “I’m so sorry Mr.Gojo, I didn’t intend to say-”

Gojo cut you off before you could continue apologizing “It’s okay, I also think Ms.Y/N is a very beautiful woman.” 

Uh, well. So this is how kinda you found yourself in this situation right now.

You swear it wasn’t your intention! You really tried, you really did, but how could someone say no to Mr.Gojo? And mostly because he really showed his attraction towards you. Sending Yuuji with a rose for you every day, and the little boy was rooting for his dad, because dear god- he did not shut up about him, and how happy he would be with a new girlfriend and maybe one he could call ‘mommy’ and give him a sister. 

That made you blush. 

Not only because the little boy commented on it, and was agreeing- but because it was his dad’s idea.

“You’re so wet, s-shit.” Loud thrusts filled the room, he was fucking you raw on his sofa– waiting for Yuuji’s mom to bring him back, the little boy was eager to come back and ‘see Ms.Y/N and his daddy finally starting to fall in love’

Kids being kids. But, he was right- the both of you were falling in love with eachother.

Gojo throws back his head, immersed in the warmth radiating off your walls and he lets your moans take him to another world. In a haste decision, he slips your dress over your head before tossing it. He mouths at your tits, plump and stiff between his lips, and he hurdles a deeper round of thrusts inside you. 

When you get a little too loud, his hand comes over to clamp your mouth, wolf like eyes staring back at you, “Shut it. You don’t deserve to speak.”

His thin white tee that stays a barrier between you and him does not hide the rippling body underneath that seemed to be sculpted by gods. He presses into you, grunting, using you like his personal sex doll and you embrace it, thrive from it, come to it. Your hips contract, slewing in perfect circles, before having your legs fall gradually lifeless as you arousal drip down your thighs.

“Ffffucckkk- oh baby, would you like that? Be full of me and my baby? Make me a daddy again?”

“yesyesyesyes, make me yours Mr.Gojo-” 

He pays your climax no mind,a smirk clearly showing on his face while he fucks you on his sofa- You could muffle your screams of pleasure easier here. Turning your head back to face him, you notice now he’s shirtless–taut and shiny from sweat like a large set of Hawaiian rolls–before seeing how quick he is to fit back inside you.

“Good girl.” His husky voice resonates and pushes you back into the sheets. “Good girls get rewards, don’t they?” Your poor fucked up mind couldn’t think clearly now. The way your abused and overstimulated pussy was still taking his rock hard cock gratefully inside you was making every feel giddy. A sudden noise bringing back a little part of your senses, Gojo clearly grunting grabbed his what you suppose phone, and answered. Not bothering to stop his thrusts.

“Yeah?,” His voice sounded almost like a whisper because of how breathy it was. “Gojo? I’m almost at your house- Yuuji wanted some ice-cream and bought some for you and… your new girlfriend?” His chuckle interrupted his ex-wife’s conversation, accompanied with a whimper at the feeling of you clenching on him- overstimulation clearly bringing you back to climax soon again.

A slap was heard from his part of the line, an unbelievable laugh coming from his ex-wife line, clearly noticing what was going on and then she finally heard you moan. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, and you were too fucked out to feel embarrased about it right now.

“Finish before I leave Yuuji- Enjoy yourself.” Gojo was so lost in pleasure that he didn’t even realize she hung up before he even processed what happened.

His grunts and sounds of skins slapping are all you hear as he pounds you back into the sofa. It feels like heaven beneath his weight. You were feeling flushed to the touch, but making contact with his skin was like an inferno. He was the embodiment of heat and as suffocating as that could’ve been, it melts you like it’s how it always should’ve been.

His pace eventually falters, followed by a hushed “fuck,” and he empties out into your used hole. The moment he pulled out, a knock was heard. 

“Shit. Can you walk?”

PART 2

[forzalando]

take my hand

another 3k celebration blurb! this time, best friends to lovers with lando for my dear friend lee @scuderiahoney 💛 i hope you all love this one, it's an apology for unrequited love!lando lol no heartbreak this time, folks!!! i'm being nice!!!! set at the 2024 spanish gp but definitely some inaccuracies with the post race timeline and also please pretend max fewtrell was there pairing: lando norris x fem best friend!reader word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a blurb wtf is wrong with me) summary: it can be so easy to fall in love with your best friend, and it can also be incredibly hard to imagine a world where they love you back. in this world, you're one of the lucky ones. tw: short but steamy makeout scene, mild cursing

Loving Lando Norris was so astonishingly easy. It came as naturally as breathing for you and has for over half of your life.

You met so many years ago but it still feels like yesterday that he reached out to you and said, “take my hand”, pulling you gently off the ground while the other children laughed at your clumsiness. He told you that they laughed at him too – he was short, shorter than you even at that age, and he struggled to read and write. You vowed that day to always pick each other up when you fell or faltered, always stand by each other’s side even when everyone else was laughing, and although it was a promise made between two children, neither of you had ever broken it.

Smiling at the memory, you were off in your own little world – thinking about the days when he would pick you “flowers” at recess (you didn’t have the heart to tell him they were weeds) and you would always share half of your cookie at lunch.

A voice pulled you from your trance, making you jump slightly at the sudden interruption.

“What are you thinking about? Or should I say who are you thinking about with that dopey smile on your face?”

You turned to face Max Fewtrell, a staple in both yours and Lando’s lives for just as long as you’d known each other.

“I was just thinking about where we’ll go for a celebratory dinner after the race. I’ve been craving gourmet pasta and a fruity cocktail.”

“Right, and my name is Willy Wonka. You don’t have to tell me the truth, it’s fine! Just thought I’d let you know he’s looking for you, he wants you in the garage for the race.”

Your heart swelled – even though Lando asked you to be there for every race you could attend, it never failed to make you giddy. You nodded your head at Max, he smirked back at you, and you walked as quickly as possible to the McLaren garage without calling attention to yourself.

As soon as you stepped into the garage, you ran straight into Oscar and the force almost knocked you to the floor.

“Oh thank god you’re here,” he groaned. “Lando’s insufferable, asking where you are every five minutes.”

“Where is he? In his driver’s room?”

“Yeah, that’s where I last saw him headed,” Oscar yelled over his shoulder, walking towards his car. “Go work your magic on him!”

You rolled your eyes as you walked the familiar route to Lando’s driver’s room, your heart rate picking up a bit the closer you got to it. As soon as you were in front of the door, you knocked once and paused, then twice in quick succession, and once more after another brief pause – the secret knock you’d been using for years to let each other know you were there.

The door swung open almost immediately after your last knock and a frantic Lando yanked you inside. He flopped down on the couch behind him and covered his face with his hands – even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he had a frown and furrowed brow.

“Thank god you’re here now, I’ve been going insane. I need you to tell me that I’m going to win this race – now that I’ve won once, it’s fucking brutal being so close yet so far. Canada was a nightmare and today I’m starting on pole. They’ll eat me alive if I don’t convert it into a win and I don’t know if I can handle that.”

You sat next to him and gently peeled his hands from his face, glassy green eyes, flushed cheeks, and, just as you predicted, a frown and furrowed brow.

“I can’t tell you that you’re going to win, Lando,” you started to say until he interrupted you with a groan, pushing your hands away.

“Hey,” you whispered. “I can’t tell you that you’re going to win, but what I can tell you is that no matter what, I’m proud of you. Max is proud of you. Your family is proud of you. Your fans are proud of you. So many people love you and see what you’re capable of – winning a race, not winning a race, it doesn’t define you. You’re the hardest worker I know, you’re kind, you are the most wonderful friend. I’ll celebrate you even if you come plum last pushing a burning, front wing-less car across the line and so will everyone else who knows and loves you.”

By the time you’d finished rambling, Lando’s shoulders had visibly relaxed and he was smiling. Not the goofy smile with his teeth on full display but a smile was a smile, you would take what you could get.

“Thank you for always being there for me. I can’t promise I won’t be pissed if I lose today but at least I feel better now, thanks to you.”

You punched his arm lightly, jokingly, and rolled your eyes. “We made a promise, didn’t we? I’ll always be there for you, always there to pick you up, even if your inability to see how wonderful you are makes me want to scream.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m perfect, you love me, I’m the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you, your days are miserable without me, tell me something I don’t know,” he jested, nudging your shoulder before standing and holding out his hand to help you up.

“In your dreams, Norris,” you scoffed. “Make sure that big head of yours still fits in your helmet before you get in the car.”

He laughed loudly as he led you out of his driver’s room, finally smiling the goofy smile you loved so dearly. The moment was short-lived – someone from his team called his name and he hugged you briefly before jogging towards them, yelling over his shoulder that he wanted you waiting for him in Parc Ferme after the race.

You shouted your agreement, hoping and praying he hadn’t noticed the rapid beating of your heart or how warm your cheeks were when he pulled you into that brief embrace. Although he had said it all to rile you up, you truly did think the world of him. He was the greatest thing that had ever happened to you. In your eyes, he was as perfect as a person could be, and oh, did you love him. You loved him far more than a friend should and it was getting increasingly more difficult to keep that to yourself.

As Lando pulled his car in front of the P2 sign, you felt the familiar burning of guilt running through your veins.

Maybe you should have told him he would win. Insisted on it, actually. You should have been adamant that he would rise to the occasion and to the top step of the podium once again.

He wouldn’t want to see you, you were quite sure of that, and despite your promise to be waiting for him with his team, you tried to sneak away unnoticed. You’d slowly made it far back enough to be swallowed by the sea of people until an arm blocked you from getting any further.

You looked up to see Lando’s race engineer with a disapproving look on his face and instantly felt like your father had just caught you trying to sneak out after curfew.

“He wants you here and he’s going to need you here,” Will shouted over the noise of the crowd.

“I think I’m the last person he wants to see right now, I wouldn’t promise him that he would win. I basically jinxed his whole race trying to keep him from being so hard on himself. What if he thinks I don’t believe in him?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” Will snorted. “Now please get back up there quickly so you’re the first person he sees when he gets out of that car.”

With the help of Will, you were pushed gently back to the front just in time to see Lando haul himself out of his McLaren. His body language was obvious – disappointment, sorrow, embarrassment, and your heart ached as you listened to the roaring cheers from the Red Bull team as Max launched himself into their arms.

You knew Lando would be running every possible scenario through his mind – what if he had gotten a better start, what if he’d managed tires just a bit better, what if George hadn’t been able to sail through at the start and he hadn’t had to back off of fighting Max. All of those thoughts a natural, valid response, but if he voiced any of them out loud he’d get torn to pieces by both journalists and fans of other drivers.

When he peeled his balaclava from his face your stomach twisted and you silently begged him to look your way – for him to find a face in the crowd that was so unwaveringly proud of him through everything, but he kept his eyes trained anywhere but you or his team.

Finally, you saw his eyes flicker to you, and he walked briskly toward where you and the few members of his team were waiting. Wordlessly, he pulled you into his arms and exhaled so deeply it felt as if he’d been holding his breath since the end of the race.

“You drove beautifully,” you whispered, combing your fingers through the sweat-dampened curls on his head. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Lando’s arms immediately loosened around you and his head was turned away from you, he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, look you in the eye.

“We’ll talk later, I have to go do my interview,” he mumbled. “Wait for me in my driver’s room, okay?”

You nodded your head even though he was already walking away from you, shoulders slumped and jaw clenched. Honestly, you weren’t sure what hurt worse – the fact that you could physically see his disappointment or that he didn’t say he loved you back.

It felt like hours before you heard an all too familiar knock on the door to Lando’s room – the door gently swinging open to reveal the tired face and frame of your best friend. He must have showered in Oscar’s room before coming to find you – the smell of champagne nowhere to be found yet his curls stuck slightly to his forehead. The sight was endearing, and it took everything in you to not pull him into you and bury yourself against his chest.

“You didn’t have to knock, it’s your room,” you spoke softly, adjusting your position on the couch.

“Force of habit, I guess.” The corner of his lip turned up when he answered you – a good sign, a sign that maybe he wasn’t angry with you at all about your earlier conversation.

Although it was Lando who asked to talk, you couldn’t help yourself from blurting out an apology as soon as he took a seat next to you.

“I’m so sorry about earlier,” you pleaded. “I should’ve said something different, I should’ve just said what you wanted me to say. I meant all of it, every word, but you asked me to reassure you in a specific way and I didn’t.”

Lando blinked a few times as he stared at you, his mouth falling open in shock? Amusement? You couldn’t tell, but at least he didn’t appear to be mad.

“Do you think I’m angry with you?”

“Well, yes,” you mumbled. “I probably jinxed your race.”

“Jinxed it? If anything, you’re the reason I finished second. I kept thinking about what you told me instead of focusing on how I screwed up – it kept my head in the race.”

“But, but,” you stammered, “you didn’t say you loved me back. In Parc Ferme, when you were hugging me. You always say it back, I thought you were furious with me.”

“Would I have walked over only to hug you if I was furious with you?”

You felt a little embarrassed at your panic – “I suppose not, you probably would’ve stayed as far away from me as possible.”

“Exactly, you silly muppet,” he teased, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. “I didn’t say it back because I realized that it means something different for both of us and I, believe it or not, got scared.”

Your eyes widened and you felt like you were going to be sick. He knew. You shouldn’t have been surprised, everyone had figured it out – his pit crew, Will, Zak, Oscar, Oscar’s girlfriend the literal first time you met her, all of your friends and family, even drivers on different teams had made comments to you in passing over the years.

“Lando, I,” you tried to get ahead of it, ahead of the rejection and the awkwardness, but he cut you off with a raised hand and a pleading look.

“Please, just let me get this out or I never will,” he begged. “I think I’ve always known, or at least everyone around me has just always told me that it’s painfully obvious, but I didn’t fully realize it until earlier today. You care about me so much, more than anyone, and I’m almost positive I could be the lousiest driver, lawyer, engineer, teacher, architect, whatever, and you’d still always be proud of me. You’d be there for me regardless with a giant smile on your face, an “I love you”, and a hug that would heal any self-doubt or negative thoughts. You mean everything to me and I don’t know what I would do without you but – ”

You waited with bated breath, your leg bouncing uncontrollably and heart hammering in your chest. Waiting for the “but I don’t feel the same”, “but I see you as a friend”, for the inevitable heartbreak.

“But I can’t keep my feelings a secret anymore, even if it might ruin everything, but I have to believe it won’t because we can get through anything together. I love you, Y/N, more than anyone in this world, more than a friend, more than I ever thought it would be possible to love someone. I’m saying it back now, hoping that you feel the same because it’ll be incredibly awkward if you don’t, but that’s what I had to tell you first. I love you. I think I always have.”

It felt like the earth had stopped moving, time frozen and only you and Lando existed in this moment, only you existed in the entire universe. Your thoughts raced with what to say back – something romantic? Should you just jump into his arms and kiss him senseless like you’d dreamed about for years? Unfortunately, you landed on something far less eloquent.

“You what?” Your shout echoed in his driver’s room, if anyone was within a ten-foot radius they surely would have heard you.

“Well, I guess that’s not the worst reaction,” Lando pondered, looking away from you bashfully. “Nora Powell stomped on my foot when I told her I liked her. Do you remember that? I think it was Year 10?”

You did remember – it was quite a horrendous memory for you, actually, as that’s the year you realized you had a crush on your best friend.

“Oh, I was so jealous of her,” you blurted. “I cornered her at lunch the next day and told her she was the luckiest girl in the world and a certified idiot for turning you down.”

His head snapped back to look at you, a hopeful glint in his eye.

You smiled at Lando, tentatively cupping his cheek. “I suppose I’m the luckiest girl in the world now, to love and be loved by the most incredible man I’ve ever known.”

“Oh no,” he insisted, “I promise you, I’m the lucky one.”

He kissed you once gently, tentatively, his lips barely brushing yours before he pulled you into his lap and slid his hands to rest on your neck, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. In an instant, he was kissing you breathless, licking into your mouth as you whined and pressed yourself against him.

One roll of your hips had him panting, a hand leaving your face to slide under your shirt, leaving a trail of fire until he stopped and squeezed just under your breast. You were dizzy with desire and full of so much love for the man underneath you – he was intoxicating, you never wanted to stop kissing him, you never wanted to know the feeling of his hands not wandering your body.

You tugged his hair lightly, just enough to disconnect his lips from yours even though it pained you to do so.

“I love you so much,” you muttered, a tear escaping from your eye. “I never thought – ”, you couldn’t even get the words out, choosing to bury your head into Lando’s neck as he gently rubbed your back.

“I know,” he whispered, lifting your head to kiss you senseless once again.

The two of you were so wrapped up in one another that neither of you heard a knock at the door or the turning of the knob. You did, however, hear the blood-curdling scream.

“Oh my god, my eyes,” Max groaned, slapping a hand over his face while he dramatically dry-heaved. “Get a room, you deviants!”

“Mate, we are literally in a room!” Lando shouted back, lifting you gently off his lap before he leapt to his feet and pushed Max backward. “We will see you back at the hotel.”

“Great, I’ll be bleaching my eyes out when you get there. For the record, I’ve always wanted this to happen, but I never wanted to see it.”

“Well, that’s your own fault,” you scolded. “Next time wait for a response before barging in somewhere.”

“Oh, believe me,” he stressed, “I’ll never be walking into any room you two are in ever again. Not even if there’s another fire and I’m the only one who can warn you to get out.”

“The dramatics are unnecessary but you do need to leave,” Lando insisted, pointing out the door.

“Yes, absolutely, but before I go, who confessed first?”

“Lando did,” you said proudly. “I’m just irresistible, I guess.” Lando winked back at you, which you took to be an agreement.

“Damn it, I owe Piastri, Sainz, and Verstappen $100 each,” Max groaned. “Like they need my money. See you two lovebirds later!”

He shut the door so quickly that neither you nor Lando had time to react to the fact that your friends had been betting on you. It took a few rounds of looking back and forth at each other and then the closed door before you burst into giggles and fell back into the couch, clinging onto each other. You laughed a bit too hard, your hands leaving Lando to clutch at your ribs. Almost instantly, you felt yourself sliding off your seat, your bum hitting the floor with a thud.

You looked up to see Lando with his arm outstretched, a cheesy smile on his face as he repeated the same words he said to you so many years ago.

“Take my hand.”

And just like you did that fateful day, you grabbed on, let him pull you up, and fell in love all over again. 

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

taglist: @scuderiahoney @lam-ila @anaviieiraaa @nebarious @chocolatepoetryfun @maxlarens @coff33andb00ks @katsu28 @sof1shticated @viikysmile

if you would like to be added to my taglist please refer to this post!

[dinogoofymutated]

THAT POST ABOUT CLEANING IN THE FLOWY DRESS? THINKIN ABOUT HANK? HNNNGGG PLEASE I BEG OF YOU

NSFW!Beast/AFAB!reader. - NSFW HCs! I was already on it when I got this ask heehee. These hcs were originally suppost to be part of another NSFW request I got for him but I was thinking about this too hard and comepletely forgot the actual theme of the req! So I decided to save it for later and just post it under your ask lol Anyway I need him my god. I was writing this while picturing watxm Hank but I'm pretty sure it works for any version. TWS: MDNI!!! smut under the cut. PNV smut. Eating out/head. Cum descriptions. Reader written with Fem in mind and also wearing a dress is mentioned, but overall no pronouns used. Creampie. Getting caught after the fact but not during the deed.

Okay, We all know that Logan has incredible stamina, and there's quite a few mutants that you would just expect that from anyway, but I'm 100% sure the one person that a good bit of people would NEVER expect to have insane stamina in bed is Hank. Like yeah he's nerdy, but dude straight up went to college on a SPORTS scholarship on top of his academic ones.

There is no fucking way this man has anything other than the most insane stamina. Dude is the perfect package of nerdy genius and athletic perfection. Can you imagine how long he could go on for in bed?? While you're sweaty and absolutely exhausted he's having the time of his life. Sure he's sweaty to but he's still. fucking. going?? It's like you'd been having sex for three minutes instead of four hours. He obviously gives you breaks and takes care of you, keeping you hydrated and such- but every time he begs you for "just one more". He's so gentle when he's gathering up your limp body and he's kissing your temples and forehead and massaging your tender spots, but he's a scientist at heart. He wants to know how far the two of you can really go, and he wants to know BAD.

I saw in a post somewhere on tumblr that he mentions that the one thing he doesn't have control of is his libido or something like that? It was from a comic snapshot so obviously this isn't even a hc it's fully cannon I don't make the rules.

THE FUCKING PHEROMONE THING!! For those of you who don't know, Hank was confirmed to have some minor Pheromone manipulation abilities. Like oh my god?? I definitely think that he will use it in sweet ways where he just wants some cuddles without asking you for them, but I feel like when he's hot and heated he just subtly does it without even knowing. Like he's super pent up one way and for some reason every time you greet him or pass him by you just start having more and more inappropriate thoughts about him. He'd feel so guilty if he catches himself doing it but at the end of the day, you don't really mind. Don't think too hard you beautiful big guy, can we just fuck already??

He will absolutely use his strength to hold you in any position possible. As long as you're both comfortable with it no position or hold is off the table for him. I don't think he'd be into BDSM or anything that has to do with hurting you, but I do think he's the type to read through the kamasutra and want to try all the positions to find the one you both enjoy the most.

He will fuck in the lab. He might do a whole "Oh my! Not in here, dear ;)" But most of the time he's instigating it! Sure he makes sure to lock the doors and everything but he's not shy when he has you splayed across his work tables, bent over you as he gently kisses and brushes his fangs over your skin. He likes how flustered it makes you.

He also cums A LOT. Like a lot a lot. He's most certainly got the heaviest balls you've ever seen, and they're not just for show. Every time he cums inside he causes you to practically overflow, and he's usually still cumming when he finally pulls out of you as well. He's a little embarrassed about it, and will clean you up very well because of that. He doesn't want you to deal with the sticky feeling of it drying on your skin, especially not if you have sensitive skin/texture issues. He is defiantly down to eat his one cum out of you though ;)

also, I think that he has a thing for long flowy dresses. I know there's a ton of dudes who say they like them bc of "easy access", and I know for a fact that Hank would find that sort of mindset disgusting. He just loves how beautiful and feminine you look in them, and also just happens to really enjoy the feeling of the fabric against his arms as he hitches up your skirt, his hands trailing up your thighs. As depraved as it might be, he also likes giving you head underneath your long skirts. He'd be apologising for being so ravenous and thanking you for letting him have you in such in intimate manner, all while giving you the most earth-shattering head. He's just so sweet about everything in the bedroom I swear.

    You swear you didn’t fully expect to be in this exact situation when you were getting dressed this morning. Sure, you knew exactly how much Hank loved to see you in sundresses and were definitely going for a certain reaction out of him, but you never would have expected to be pinned against the wall of his lab, his large hands cupping your ass and thighs as he holds you suspended whilst using the wall as leverage. His thick cock is pumping in and out of you at a quick, needy pace. He goes back and forth from biting his lips and letting his moans and groans ring out and echo in the cluttered space. You’d never done this position before, although you certainly knew that Hank had more than enough strength to pull it off. Still, you were sure that the image of him fucking you, hands beneath your long skirt as it bunches at your hips and drapes down below you, was certainly a sight to behold.

    “Ah- Please, let me know if this is uncomfortable in any way- nhg… I’m sure your anatomy is taking me quite… deeply, in this position.” Hank grunts, his thrusts deep and steadily paced in a manner in which he knows you like best. You smile at him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as your hands clench and unclench on his shoulders every time his thrusts catch you Just right.

    “Is that what you’re calling it now? “Studying” my anatomy?” You muse. You wonder if he had noticed you catching on to the glances and stares he does when he thinks you’re not paying attention. You purposely poke your chest out as you mention it, and Hank huffs in amusement before he buries his face into your semi-exposed cleavage,  licking and sucking as he shifts your weight onto one hand as the other takes hold of your cheek. He puckers your lips, nipping at the top of your breast before he pries himself away, sending you a smug smile as he leans in teasingly close.

    “You know, I really think we could be using that quick tongue of yours for something a little more useful than backtalk.” Hank chuckles. He kisses you in a way that leaves you breathless, still holding you effortlessly even with a single hand as he keeps up his thrusts. His free hand drifts down to your clit as your walls begin to flutter and clench around him, a sign that he knows means you’re approaching your peak and fast. His kisses match the intensity of his hips as he closes in on his own pleasure. You cum barely a second before he does, his cum warming your insides as he cums, and cums and cums. He overflows your cunt quickly, and it drips down your legs when he pulls out. Hank makes sure to help you keep your balance when he sets you down, your legs shaking from your orgasm but also a bit numb from the position he had you in. He kisses you gently as you recover from your high, doing so over and over again all across your skin. The gentle touches make you giggle a bit. 

    “Had a feeling that we would end up like this today. Maybe I should wear dresses like this more often.” You hum. Hank chuckles deeply before drawing you into another sensual kiss, his hands stroking up and down your now-clothed body in a loving way.

    “I wouldn’t mind testing that theory.” He says when he separates from the kiss. You shake your head at him, laughing a bit more as you cup his face with love.

    “Of course you wouldn’t.” You say sweetly. Hank is smiling at you, his hands beginning to wander again right before the two of you hear a mortifying swish of the doors. Hank quickly tucks himself back inside his pants before the two of you instinctively turn to face the door where Logan is standing with a bit of a confused look on his face.

    “Logan! We were just-”

    “Hey, Logan! Nothing to see here!” Both of you are scrambling to fix the situation, utterly and spectacularly failing as Logan takes one sniff of the air and then smirks.

    “I’m all for a bit of risk, but at least lock the door, lovebirds.” Logan gives the two of you a sardonic wave before marching straight back out the door. Leaving both you and Hank more than a little mortified. As embarrassing as it was, you can’t help but begin to laugh, Hank joining you as you shake off the adrenaline of technically being caught red-handed.

    “Let’s go wash off before we have any other unexpected visitors,” Hank suggests. You agree wholeheartedly, your laughter picking up once again as he lifts you off the ground in a bridal hold to head to the showers.

[bettymylove]

hello, can you maybe do a one-shot of theo comforting y/n bcs she's been feeling insecure with her 2a + 2b hair😓 ( speaking from experience )

Date not so ruined

pairing: theo nott x reader

content: reader is feeling insecure about her hair and theo makes her feel better.

a/n: you're beautiful, hope this helped<33

It was date night, one which rarely occurred due to the burden both you and your boyfriend, Theo faced. Tonight was one of those nights when he would take you to a fancy restaurant and shower you with love.

You had started getting ready a while ago, thinking to yourself it wouldn't take long, but boy were you wrong.

It was your hair, aside from the fact that it was not the stereotypical perfect hair, it just wouldn't cooperate tonight. You had tried all the tips and tricks, your friends told you about to keep it from puffing up, but alas none worked.

You tried putting it in a bun, but the flyaways wouldn't settle, you tried keeping it open and that didn't work either, there must have been a hundred products you used and it still didn't do anything.

You wished your hair was normal, like all the other girls you saw on the daily, you looked yourself in the mirror and tears started to erupt from your eyes, travelling all the way down your cheek.

You would hate for Theo to see you like this, he would realize he could do so much better, he could have anyone else and she wasn't ready for him to leave her.

Theo's foot was bouncing up and down in the common room, he had been waiting for you for the past half an hour and was surprised to not find you there when he himself was a few minutes late.

He decided to go into your dorm and ask you rather than lose his mind trying to figure out what went wrong, he picked up the flowers he had bought for you from the table and headed straight to your dorm.

A slight knock on your door startled you, you knew who it was. You looked in the mirror again, this time not only the hair was bothering you but your eyes had swelled up as well.

Another sniffle escaped you and the voice you had grown to love asked you from across the door, "Are you crying, y/n?"

You cleared your throat, scared to be found crying over something this silly, you thought for sure he would think you were crazy, "No" you replied, and your voice cracked and you winced at it.

"Yes you are, I'm coming in, darling" Oh dear god, this was it, more tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill.

He was beyond panicked now. His girl was crying, and he would kill whoever made that happen.

The first thing you noticed when Theo entered your room were the flowers in his hand, your favorite, more tears spilled from your eyes, he was too good for you.

He kept the flowers down on your bedside table and sat beside you taking your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, but your turned your face away, "What happened, baby?" his hand tried to maneuver your face towards him.

"My hair, it's-," You wiped some of the tears from your face. "I don't feel pretty, Theo"

Theo sighed. He knew how insecure you were about your hair and how much it bothered you, he wanted to comfort you, wanted to tell you how you were the most beautiful person he's ever met.

He pulled on your hand, making you stand up, tugging you along to the other side of the room where your mirror was.

"You can't see how pretty you are l, but I can. I love your hair, how dare you say they aren't perfect." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "These eyes, god I could be lost in them all day, tears shouldn't be there"

He kissed all of your tear stains, one by one. "These hands, your pretty hands" he held one up, "I could kiss them all day" and he did.

You were laughing now, albeit lightly, but you were still laughing and his eyes glinted at the sound.

"Most importantly, your heart, which loves me and I thank god every day for it" Finally he kissed your lips, tasting the salt from your tears and the cherry from your lipgloss, you kissed him back, wondering what did you do to deserve him.

"Oh, and," His hand travelled to his hair, which was neatly gelled and he ran his hand through making it messy and letting it stick out in all directions. "Perfect, isn't it?"

You smiled at him, kissed his cheek while telling him you love him, and he said it back, he always did. Taking his hand in yours, you went out of the room, ready for your date.

[messylustt]

݁   𓂃 ៸៸៸ …and taste — rafe cameron + reader ( outer banks ) : after he finally gets to taste you he wishes you hadn’t run away. lucky for him a dinner is being held at the cameron’s.

contents : jealous!rafe. possessive!rafe. rafe being slightly obsessed with reader. virgin reader. slight innocence kink. unprotected sex. wc 3.9k.

pt one pt two

“come on, dear, we’re leaving now.��� your mother’s voice rouses you from your book. your brows furrow as you eye her almost fancy dress.

“where are we going?” you ask, sitting up.

“to the cameron’s, i told you this.” she replies, turning to leave your room.

you freeze. what?

a few weeks ago you vaguely remember your parents mentioning a dinner. you didn't realise it was this soon. no. god. this was the worst timing.

your cheeks warm at the memory of rafe, and what he had done. you place your hands against your cheeks in an attempt to cool your face, as you quickly stand.

you couldn’t see him. you weren't prepared to see him this soon. what had happened in the kitchen was only two days ago. you didn’t know where you stood, and part of you didn’t want to. you thought you would have time to prepare a whole speech where you would point out how sarah would feel if her best friend and brother were getting it on.

or, part of you hoped, that rafe just…forgot, and saw you as another girl. and then the other part wished that you weren't just some girl. but that was certainly wishful thinking.

you quickly rummage through your clothes, your pyjamas not ideal for a dinner, as you hear your mum call for you downstairs.

arriving at the cameron’s made your heart thump against your chest. you’d never been nervous walking into this house, but then again rafe had never kissed you before now. what if he wasn’t home? again, wishful thinking.

you greet ward and rose with a smile, as sarah bolts down the stairs to give you a hug. you didn’t dare look around for rafe, as you let sarah bring you into the dining room.

“you're not gonna believe what happened yesterday!” sarah excitedly says to you, but your focus is annoyingly dragged to the boy walking in through the other entry. you immediately stiffen, as you stare at sarah. you won’t look at him if you don’t have to.

what you didn’t see was the way that rafe’s eyes found you immediately, staring at you with the same intensity that you're using on sarah.

he had also forgotten about this dinner, though his reaction to it was far different than yours. of course he was nervous, you hadn’t seen each other since that night. but his want to see you overrode most of his other feelings.

you were all soon taking a seat, not missing the way rafe found one directly opposite you. this way you’d have to look at him, even if by accident. you curse under your breath but maintain a smile, as you stare at the food on your plate.

chatter filled the room, as your parents and theirs talked about too many topics to keep up with. you kept your gaze on sarah, as she explained her adventures over the past few days. you’d always lived a kook life, so hearing how much fun the pogues got up to almost made you feel jealous.

as you place a forkful of food in your mouth you suddenly feel a brush against your foot. you choke, realising exactly who did that. you place your hand against your chest as your coughing gains the attention of the parents.

“you alright, sweetie?” rose asks.

you quickly nod, trying to smile, while hitting your chest. “yeah, i’m fine, thanks.”

you hear a faint snort as you whip your head to rafe for the first time that night. you shoot him a small glare, to which he only smirks in return.

“so, y/n, have any boys caught your attention?” ward asks you, as you break eye contact with rafe.

“uh,” you begin as rose cuts in.

“ward,” she scolds, before looking at me. “he just means that you’ve grown into a beautiful young lady, i’m sure boys have taken a liking.”

you smile, as you spare a fleeting glance to rafe. he’s watching you closely, as if he wants to know the answer just as much as rose and ward.

“well, there has been this boy.” your mum speaks up, as you shoot her a look. “what—toby seems like such a sweet boy.”

rafe was intently watching the conversation, though his bites began to grow a little more aggressive as the name toby left your mother’s lips.

‘sweet boy.’ he had to hold back a scoff. she didn’t see the way that kid eyed her daughter with a look that contradicted the word ‘sweet’.

of course he was very familiar with that look, that always seemed to be directed at you. the difference is that toby didn’t deserve to look at you like that, and in all honesty rafe probably didn’t either, but that didn’t seem to be enough motivation to look away.

he had touched you, kissed you, and tasted you. and god, did he want to continue. to get you into his bed whenever he saw fit, to see you laid across his sheets for him.

he bit into his fork, the metal scraping against his teeth as he eyed you across from him. you had only met his eyes once, and he planned to have you staring at him, and only him for the rest of the night…maybe somewhere more isolated.

“yeah, he’s nice.” you smile at the adults. you had said that to rafe when he had asked if you liked him. Which made rafe realise that toby was barely competition. that’s all you thought of him, and that made him grin.

“well, y/n, if that boy isn’t right for you, then just know that rafe, sarah and wheezie’s cousin is quite a catch.” ward laughs proudly.

you chuckle awkwardly. the last thing you wanted was to get in with this family where rafe could see you way more often.

you hear rafe clear his throat, earning the table’s attention. “did you know that johnny was caught robbing a store recently?” rafe speaks innocently as Ward’s expression falls. “plus i’m sure y/n wouldn’t exactly catch his eye.” rafe is leant back against his chair, his arms crossed.

you meet his gaze again with a scowl, while rafe tilts his head. “oh, i’m not sure i exactly want a cameron staring at me anyway.” you smile, as rafe’s eyes narrow.

“but imagine y/n a part of the family.” rose says with a thoughtful smile as she sips her cocktail.

rafe doesn’t shift his gaze from you as you eye up his silent challenge. “no cameron has caught my eye i’m afraid, besides sarah of course.” you shift your gaze to sarah who chuckles, giving you a nudge. “yeah,” she smiles. “y/n’s off limits.” she speaks playfully.

you glance back at rafe to see his gaze has hardened.

bullshit, rafe thinks. he has done more than just ‘catch your eye’.

he tongues his cheek as he watches you eat more of your food. the way your lips wrapped around the for—

he has to look away for a moment, remembering his and your family still sitting at the table. this dinner was going on forever, and his patience was wearing thin.

“alright, i need to tell y/n something, so we’re heading upstairs.” sarah says quickly, as she takes her last mouthful of food.

you're then dragged up and out of your seat, continuing up the stairs to sarah’s room. rafe watches you go, glaring at sarah’s grip on your arm.

sarah had shared the rest of her adventures with the pogues to you, as you both ended up laughing on her bed. it was late when sarah got called downstairs.

“feel free to take a shower.” sarah says to you, as she darts out the door.

you take up the offer, feeling sweaty from your previous mountains of nerves.

you're quick out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body, as your wet hair hits your cheeks. you had forgotten to grab some of sarah’s clothes to change into. you slipped out the bathroom door, cursing under your breath at your stupidity.

you walk into the hallway, the towel wrapped tight around your chest as you step quietly, not wanting to wake anyone who had decided to sleep.

then you felt a hand grab your upper arm, yanking you into a room. you gasp, your heart jumping as the door shuts. the room has dim lighting but you're quick to make out a sweatshirt on the bed that looks awfully familiar. too big for wheezie and not sarah’s style.

rafe’s.

shit. you spin to face the door as you catch sight of Rafe standing there, his eyes narrowed in a glare.

“off limits?” rafe reiterates sarah’s mock sentence. he steps forward as you slightly shuffle back, your hand gripping your towel with a force that’s making your knuckles turn white. rafe reaches out, hitting your chin up as he brushes your damp hair away from your cheek. “you're off limits, alright.” he whisper-hisses, making your body stiffen. “just not to me.”

you gulp as he grabs your neck, pulling you forward. his breath hits your face, successfully making it heat up. his large hand brushes your neck, nearly winding around your entire throat.

“rafe—”

he cuts you off. “you're off limits to people like toby, or johnny, or even sarah.” his tone is dark, almost threatening, but then his almost soft eyes contradict to a point that makes your head spin. “off limits to any guy who looks at you.”

“rafe, what are you doing?” you ask, drawing the towel higher. rafe catches this, his eyes shooting down to your covered chest. he gulps, staring at the remaining water droplets left on your skin, dotted around your collarbone. his breathing picks up as he meets your gaze again.

he then smiles, a little too innocently. “you lie a lot, did you know that?” rafe steps closer, making you shuffle back. he takes another large step as your thighs hit his bed. you curse yourself for backing up in this direction. “you lied about not liking a cameron.”

you shake your head. “i like sarah.”

“not how you like me.” rafe speaks cockily.

“you're far too proud for your own good, rafe.” you say, trying to stand straighter, showcasing some form of dominance in your losing situation. rafe just looks amused, which pisses you off more.

“we kissed once—” you begin, but rafe immediately cuts in.

“oh, we did more than just kiss.”

you shut your eyes, trying to forbid the memory to fill your brain. you feel rafe tilt your chin up, his warm breath hitting your nose. he then leans down to your ear, your eyes still shut, as if that will shut him out. “and i plan to more than just eat you out.” he whispers, before biting your earlobe.

you gasp, eyes shooting open as he pushes you onto the bed. he towers over you, resting his knee in between your legs, that you want to close desperately.

“rafe—”

“shh, pretty girl, i just want to make you feel good.” he breathes, his eyes devouring you hungrily. you still had the towel covering you, but you didn’t think that would last much longer. in response to your thought you bring it closer to your chest. rafe smirks, watching you try to hold onto your modesty.

cute, he thinks to himself.

his finger raises to tantalisingly skim across your skin right by the top of your towel. he then lets his hand drift down to the bottom of your towel. drawing it up your thigh as you try to close your legs, forgetting that his knee sits between. you clench around it, gasping as he moves his leg higher, bringing your towel up with it.

cold air hits your pussy making you shiver. rafe’s hand moves up your thigh. you try to move away on instinct, but rafe pushes his knee higher, his jean material rubbing along your clit. a whimper escapes you, and rafe’s eyes dart to yours, smiling. “oh, you like that?” he teases, his expression looking almost as desperate as yours.

“would you ever let toby touch you like this?” he asks, sweetly at first. but when you stay silent, he raises his hand to clench around your neck, tightening only a fraction. “no. you wouldn’t.” he hisses out. “say it.”

“rafe—”

“not my name. you have plenty of time to scream it. i want to hear you say who is allowed to touch you.” rafe demands, and you squirm under him, his jean-clad knee still pressed against you.

“n-no one.” you say, to which he shakes his head.

“wrong.” he leans down to bite your neck, making you jolt. “try again.”

“i’m not going to say you.” you try to stay defiant, knowing how wrong this is. you didn’t want to think of what sarah would say.

“no?” rafe chuckles mockingly. his bite then turns to a kiss, spreading them all across your jaw and cheek. He reaches your mouth, hovering. both of your chests are heaving against each other. “do you want to leave?”

your eyes continue to dart between his eyes and lips.

“i’ll tell ya what.” rafe begins, staying extremely close to your lips. “if you aren’t wet, i’ll let you leave. but if you are…well…” he smiles. your eyes are wide as you watch him. you lean further into the bed, his warm breath making your mind foggy. rafe follows your lips, grabbing your jaw and holding you still. “and there’s only one way to find out.”

rafe reaches down, abandoning your jaw to reach your pussy. his fingers hover over before one pushes inside you. you shut your eyes, your breathing turning erratic. you hear rafe groan in praise as he feels your dripping deception.

“oh god.” you mutter as you feel a second finger push in.

“well, would you look at that?” rafe taunts, now placing a kiss to your cheek as your back slightly arches against his fingers. “you're dripping.” he whisper-groans.

your breathing stutters as he continues to pull in and out.

rafe watches your expression as he fingers you, all self control slipping when a small noise escapes your mouth. he leans closer, pressing his lips against yours, wanting to swallow your sounds.

as he picks up the pace you're practically panting in his mouth as he laps at your tongue. his need for you is growing, as he tries not to grind on your leg, his position nearly straddling one of your thighs.

you draw close, your eyes nearly rolling, when he pulls away. you feel embarrassed by the sound of desperation that leaves you. but rafe is ecstatic to hear it.

“why did you?...” you pant, catching his gaze.

“‘cause i need to fucking taste more of you. i didn’t have time that night, before you ran off.” he grips your towel, your eyes widening as he rips it away, tossing it somewhere in his room. he pauses, staring at your naked tits, gulping. you try to cover up, but rafe is quick to grab your wrists, pinning them to the bed, and leaving you open for him. his breathing is heavy as takes your wrists into one hand, bringing the other to circle around your nipple.

you shiver, and he practically moans as he takes your entire breast in his hand, massaging it. he looks dazed as he watches his hand enjoy you.

he then leans down to your other breast, licking a circle over your nipple, making you gasp. he loved the way you couldn't swallow down the noises that left you, he wanted to hear more.

he fully took your nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking. you moaned, as both your nipples hardened against his rough tongue and hand.

he got more aggressive and desperate as he bit and sucked on your nipple, while circling the other with his finger. you're nearly writhing under him as pleasure shoots through you.

christ, you think to yourself.

“now you can’t run away from me.” rafe speaks against your skin, before raising his head to hover over your lips. “ever.” he kisses you with passion, as he presses himself further against you. you gasp into the kiss as you feel him hard against your hip. he groans as you shuffle against his cock. his grip tightens around your wrists, breaking the kiss.

“don’t do that unless you're actually going to do something about it.” he breathlessly speaks, his voice almost edging submission. you’d never heard him pleading. ever.

you kiss him, making him whimper as you shift again. rafe grabs your hips, trying to get you to stop, but you manage to move, swinging your leg around him.

he’s now lying under you, as you straddle him. rafe’s eyes are wide and blown out with lust. you reach for the buttons of his shirt, feeling it unfair that you're naked while he stays clothed.

rafe’s breathing stutters as your hand grazes his chest, pulling his shirt back. rafe raises on his elbows, helping you get the shirt over his shoulders, but as you pull it down rafe can’t resist and kisses you.

he’s wanted this for so long and here you are undressing him. he groans against your lips, nearly biting your tongue as he pushes into you. “rafe—” you try against his persistent mouth, as you fiddle with getting the shirt completely off.

“i just—” rafe cuts himself off as he harshly breathes. “you look so pretty trying to undress me.”

you lean back. “i don’t have to—”

but rafe cuts you short by hastily undoing his belt, pulling it out of the loops, all while he kisses your collarbone, multitasking extremely fast that it makes your head spin.

he grabs your hips pulling you harshly down into him, as you place your hands on his shoulders, gripping hard. his jeans are unbuttoned but not off, his shirt gone somewhere by your towel. he desperately moves your hips against him, making you both moan. the raw feeling of his jean material and cold metal of the button and zipper against your throbbing clit is making your breathing choppy. it’s nearly painful with how turned on you are.

“oh, fuck.” rafe’s eyes are rolling, his grip on your hips tightening to the point of bruising. he then grabs your jaw, resuming his dominant attitude. “tell me only i get to feel you.”

you open your mouth, panting from the grinding. rafe brings you closer to his lips, breathing past them. “tell me.”

you choke out. “only you.”

“can what?” he juts his hips up into you.

“f—feel me.” you gasp.

rafe smirks against your lips. “good girl.” he then flips you both, so that your back is against the bed again. he pulls his jeans and boxers off, before pulling you closer to him by your thighs. he leans down to your ear, keeping his grip on your thighs. “is this your first time?”

you shakily nod, catching as rafe’s eyes darken. “shit.” he breathes, kissing your jaw. “i’m gonna make you feel so…good…yeah?”

you nod in response, not trusting your words. rafe swirls his finger along your clit, making sure you're wet enough. “then let me hear your sweet voice, loud and clear.”

“but sarah—” you begin, only just remembering that she was in the house. was she wondering where you were?

“nobody is going to stop me from finally making you mine.” he darkly breathed. “i’ve always wanted to taste you, taint you, train you—” you choke a gasp as he wraps your legs around his hips. “i’m so glad i get to be your first...” he grins before kissing you. he pushes you further into the bed before widening your legs. he slowly pushes the tip past you. you stiffen at the foreign feeling, but rafe continues to place tender kisses to your cheek and jaw. he slowly pushes further in. the pain makes your brows furrow as your breathing shallows out. but rafe stays still until you’ve gotten used to his size. he watches as your forehead smooths out and pleasure takes over.

he begins to move, earning a whine from you. he growls as his eyes roll. he pulls in and out, picking up the pace to a continuous rhythm. he leans down to your ear, smirking. “...and your last.” he whispers possessively. you can’t link his words to his previous ones before he’s thrusting harder into you. you try to stay quiet, not wanting the family to know. god, were your parents still downstairs?

“come on, pretty girl, i like hearing you speak. even if it’s just incoherent moaning.”

in response you moan, as his pace picks up to one almost animalistic. “fuck.” He breathes.

both your highs are drawing close, as rafe nearly becomes a whimpering mess above you. he’s trying so hard to keep control of his dominance, but when it came to you all control flew out the window. he breathes your name against your lips before he kisses you, but the kiss soon turns into you both just groaning into each other. the crescendo of your orgasm is approaching as your grip on rafe’s neck and shoulders dig in, nearly breaking skin.

“rafe.” you whimper, keeping his lips to yours.

“that’s it.” rafe praises, feeling his own orgasm approaching. he uses his finger to draw circles on your clit making you choke a groan. god, did it feel good.

your orgasm crashes into you as your head tilts back. “god.” you moan. rafe pulls out, his own pleasure spilling over your stomach. he hadn’t meant to, but he just had to stay inside you until the last second.

“shit.” rafe heaved as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. you both panted as your highs drew to a close.

you don’t notice as rafe got up, to then come back with a fresh towel from his adjoining bathroom. you sit up on your elbows, still dazed and slightly lightheaded. rafe is quick to clean you up, before your reaching for your clothes.

but just as you're about to pull your shirt over your head, rafe reappears with grey sweatpants hanging around his hips, probably just having cleaned himself up. he catches you, quickly taking the shirt out of your grasp and throwing it back to the floor, as he grabs your cheeks and pulls you in for a kiss.

“rafe—” you try, but he just smiles in response, drawing you closer by your waist.

“and where are you going?” he prys.

“i left sarah. she’s probably wondering—”

rafe shakes his head. “no, no. you're with me now, and i plan to keep you for the rest of the night.”

you hold down a smile, as you get out of his hold reaching for the door handle, but rafe quickly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back. “i meant what i said. you're not running away.”

you shake your head with a slight chuckle. “i just feel bad—”

“you’ve spent plenty of time with sarah. you owe me time, now.” rafe cuts in, tilting your chin up. “and i’d love to see you trapped in my sheets.”

at this rate rafe’s arms were glued to you, and you didn’t think he'd ever let go.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[prettykittycastle]

Birthday

Summary: The reader wakes Elijah up with a great surprise.

(The reader is AFAB, but gender-neutral and uses they/them pronouns. The ethnicity/race is any.)

(Content Warning: Blowjob, handjob, facefucking, dirty talk, slight degradation, cum swallowing)

It was quite rare for Elijah to get a full night's rest. The constant threats to his family's well-being and the constant eye on Klaus' whereabouts and the things he was doing tended to prevent Elijah from getting his proper rest and relaxation, but today and tonight was different. All day long, his siblings weren't as chaotic as usual, even Klaus didn't bother him much. He found it strange at the time, but decided to enjoy it while it last. And now, he laid in his bed, enjoying a dreamless sleep that was rare for him to come by.

My god, he thought, his eyes still closed. Suddenly during his dreamless sleep, a strange, but amazing sensation was beginning in his stomach and was slowly moving downward. It felt like light kisses was being laid upon his stomach. He wanted to open his eyes to see what it was, but found that he was too tired to even attempt.

"Mmm," he whimpered, furrowing his brows. When the kisses started going near his waist, the sensation slightly changed from light kisses to something wet running across his skin. "Fuck," he moaned, thrusting his crotch up tiredly at whoever was doing this.

He felt a hand gently press his hips down, before feeling another begin working his sleeping pants down off his hips. He could feel the chill of the air hit his semi-hard member, and the chill made it twitch.

"So big," he heard a voice whisper.

"Oh," he moaned lowly, feeling a soft hand take hold of him. Before he could try to figure out who the voice belonged to, he felt a sudden warm wetness run across the underside of himself, making him harder.

"Oh shit," he cursed.

"You like that, Elijah," the voice asked. "You like me tasting your dick?"

"Y-Yes," he moaned, struggling to think clearly.

"Good," the voice replied.

The wetness continued to run along his length, all the way to the tip, and when he thought it couldn't get better, he felt a another hand softly grasp one of his balls and gently rolled it in their palm.

The sensation was too great and finally with a loud moan, he forced his eyes open. He looked down his body and saw that his shirt was pushed up to his chest and like he thought, his sleeping pants was low on his hips, almost to his knees.

"Oh dear," he exhaled as he laid his eyes upon you, his precious love, licking the tip of his member and rubbing his balls in your hand. "(Y/N), what-?"

Before he could continue his question, you slipped more of his member into your mouth, the taste of him on your tongue made you moan around him.

"Oh, please," Elijah whimpered, thrusting himself more into your mouth and sliding into your throat.

"Mmm," you moaned around him again, making him throw his head back against his pillow.

"(Y/N)," he repeated your name, his voice weak and broken.

"What you want, baby," you asked, slowly sliding your mouth off of him and wrapping your other hand around the lower part of his member, your grip firm, but not too firm, just how he liked it. "Tell me what you want."

You put your mouth back on him and began to slowly slid him back into your mouth, his tip going down your throat. When you couldn't fit anymore of him in your mouth, you began stroking the rest of him, and continued to fondle his balls.

"Oh, please," He whimpered again, lifting his head and looking back down to you, his eyes half open and half closed and his handsome face scrunched up in pleasure. "(Y/N), my love-" he cut himself as he let out another moan.

"Mmm," you moaned around him again before slowly pulling off of him, your mouth now wet with your saliva. "What you want, baby? I wanna know." You let go of his balls and used that hand to stroke the upper half of him, while the other one continued to stroke the lower half, your left over saliva helping you stroke him better. "You want me to keep jerking you off like this?"

"Uuh," He groaned.

His eyes began to droop more and more closed out of pleasure, but he tried to fight off the urge and keep his gaze on you. The sight of the noble, always put-together Mikaelson falling apart like this because of you made you wetter than you ever felt and you knew nothing could compare to this feeling.

As you continued to stroke him, you noticed his hips beginning to lift up every time your hands stroked up to his tip. The sight of his muscular hips thrusting up like that brought an idea to your mind and you decided to slow down your strokes, making sure he could be coherent enough to hear you.

"Elijah, honey," you said.

He opened his mouth to speak, but found that he couldn't. The pleasure was too much for him. Instead he nodded his head at you to let you know he was listening.

"Tell me,...you wanna fuck my mouth?"

Just the question alone made the original let another moan and he quickly nodded his head at you.

He raised his hands and gently unwrapped yours from around him, and you placed them next to his thighs. Taking his member in his hand, he gave his self a few strokes, keeping his gaze on you and you could tell by the renewed look in his eyes that he would not be gentle with you.

"Come here," he said, holding his self out to you, his tip pointing straight at your mouth. Instantly you leaned forward and took him in your mouth.

"More," you heard him say, before you felt his other hand at the back of your head, pushing your mouth further down on him, his tip already hitting your throat.

"Oh yes," he exhaled, lifting his hips and thrusting more of himself into your mouth, making you gag. "Take it all," he said, pulling out for a second then thrusting back in deeply, the action making you gag again and your eyes began to slightly water.

"You're such a slut," he told you, pulling back out. "Waking me up to fuck your mouth. How pathetic." He thrusted back in roughly, making you gag a little harder than before.

"Oh was that too much, dear," he asked, chuckling, tiredly. "Too bad."

He moved his hand from the back of your head to your cheek and moved his other hand to the other one, holding both sides of your face, while he was still deep down your throat.

"You ready, love," he asked you.

"Mm-hmm," you hummed around him, making him moan.

"Good," he said, then pulled halfway out. You took a deep breath, already knowing what he was about to do and getting wetter at the thought of it.

He thrusted back into your mouth, going into your throat, then pulled back out and repeated.

He began to roughly fuck your mouth, each thrust making you gag and moan around his member, making him let out moans and whimpers.

"Fuck, yes," he grunted, his grip on you getting tighter with each thrust. "You fucking whore. Just take it!" The speed of his thrusts suddenly increased and you could feel your saliva dripping from around the corners of your mouth and onto the bedsheets beneath you two.

"Is this what you wanted? For me to fuck your face like this?" You could see his legs beginning to tense and the rhythm of his thrusts were becoming out of control.

"You want me to come in your mouth, slut," he asked, his voice becoming more desperate and broken with each thrust.

"Mm-hmm," you hummed around him again, your mouth vibrating around him.

"Yes, yes, yes," he repeated as his hips suddenly had a mind of their own and began thrusting more wildly, his hands falling from your face and landing on the bed, as the pleasure overwhelmed him.

"Shit," he grunted, he finally stopped thrusting. His head fell back on his pillow as his cum began shooting down your throat.

Even though his hands were no longer on your face, holding you, you still held him in your mouth and tried to swallow as cum as you could.

"Oh," he moaned loudly, his body now melting into the mattress as his orgasm ran through him.

Slowly sliding your mouth off of him, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your boyfriend being completely relaxed, his body no longer showing any stress or frustration like usual.

"What-" he paused, trying to speak through his post-orgasm hazed mind. "What was that?"

He lifted his head and looked at you with such love and adoration that you couldn't help the fire that began to spread in your core. Ignore it, you urged yourself. Not yet.

"What did I do," he stopped again, out of breath then continued, "to deserve such a wake up call like this?"

"What did you do," you crawled up his body, laying soft kisses on his stomach on the way up and grinned as his body twitched with each kiss. "You were born."

"What," he asked, confused.

Giggling, you kissed him on the mouth, then kissed his cheek. "Happy Birthday, Elijah."

[dentiststoothfairy]

hello! can i ask a norton,Aesop,and naib

with an s/o that got really hurt during a match like it injured the whole right side of there s/o face and also made their s/o loss there right eye? so like at first another survivor told them you got hurt so they went to you thinking you just got a scratch or something but they didn't expect to find there s/o in a puddle of their own blood holding the right side of there face because it got hit with a flare gun which exploded right when it hit the right side of there face,

(it's fine if you don't want to do this or your not comfortable writing it, that's fine but thanks for taking the time out of your day to read my request(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

🟢 𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐁 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐑 🟢

Accidents occasionally happen in the manor, which always gets on his nerves. It's just the soldier in him.

No room for mistakes with this one.

So when he found out you were in an accident with a flare gun, he was pretty pissed off.

THIS is why people can't afford to fuck up, anytime, any day. Because people like you get fucking hurt.

Cracking his knuckles for a totally unrelated reason guys don't worry.

Emily was pretty stern with him before letting him into her little nursing room that she made for injuries after matches.

Don't apply extra stress on the wound.

Allow for proper rest.

Don't let them apply for matches until their face is at LEAST 77% healed and that's if we're being generous.

As Emily listed off the rules, Naib just got more agitated.

Had something like. Actually gone wrong?

And once he saw you. Holy fucking shit.

Memories came flooding back.

It was like. Actively sort of triggering him. Looking at you like that.

As Emily applied the final bandages to your face to make sure you wouldn't get infected, he couldn't look at you.

Not that he thought you were ugly, no no. It was. Physically painful to see the one he utterly adored to be in that position.

A position his friends were in so long ago.

He tries to get you to rat out who did it. He just wants to talk.

Once the healing is done and it turns out you've lost an eye. He honestly feel sick, for you. Again, he isn't any less attracted to you. But it's. It's so raw for him. It takes him a while to feel okay.

He has war trauma guys.

🍩𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋 🍩

He's a little more careless than Naib, so when he heard about an accident in a duos match.. He didn't really bat an eye.

You were tough, he trusted you. Although, he'd still pretty fucking upset. Like. Come on. How the hell did that even happen in the first place? In fact, the news that an "accident" occurred kind of unnerved him.

And like Naib, Emily gave him a run down on how to treat the wound. Which he could only scoff at.

He knew how to treat a wound like that. Especially a facial wound.

*vaguely gestures to his face*

And. GOD. his reaction to your face.

FUCK DUDE.

It hurts him knowing that you've gone through the EXACT same thing that he has.

Unlike Naib, he doesn't struggle to look at you from guilt. No. He doubles down.

He's extra attentive to you, although he basically discards Emily's advice, he handles it in his own... Mr Mole sort of way.

⚰️ 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐏 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋 ⚰️

He's pretty expressionless on the daily. It's hard to read his eyes especially with the mask, so when someone br𝐪oke the news that something happened to you during a match.. It was hard to gauge his reaction.

Internally, he was pretty conflicted actually.

One half - was he finally allowed to preserve you for your beauty? No scar or scratch or anything could ever doubt your luminescence to him.

On the other half -

If you weren't already dead...

ARE YOU OKAY?

He was stressed, very stressed.

Anyways. He's actually not a germaphobe as one would expect from the gloves and the mask. So when Emily advised him to watch after you carefully, he listened cautiously.

Once he saw your face

He didn't flinch.

"Oh dear,... Poor [Y/N]...are you feeling alright?"

Probably the only time Emily saw him actually interact with someone like.. A normal human ngl.

Aesop doesn't blink twice.

When I say nothing could tear his eyes from you, I mean nothing.

Lost eye, half scarred face, burnt skin smelling like a chicken dinner.

He truly believes you are the most beautiful th. FINE. FINE. HE'LL PUT DOWN THE SYRINGE :((

U don't love him anymore.... And u hate him 😔 u want him dead /j

[jujutsukgojo]

The Fourth Leg

chrollo lucilfer x reader

Summary: No matter how fast you ran, the Spider's leg cannot get far. No matter how long you hid, you were bound to be found, dear number four. WARNING: toxic relationships, mentions of murder and torture, bullying, murder plot, smut, idk what else? yandere? 18+ Smut scene is based on Fear (1996). I saw it and it crept up on me Chapter one

You’ll always be able spot the blond haired boy from a mile away. His blond locks are longer now, and his eyes are colder. They aren’t the same light grey they used to be when he was around. A small smile comes across your face when you look to see what your boy is wearing: his traditional Kurta attire.  

  When the massacre happened and you had run into Sheila, she informed you of everything there was to know about the Kurta. So, while he was housed by you, you made those clothes for him. And now that he’s a little older, he still wears the clothes you send him.  

  Kurapika left home to get his hunter’s license. He was determined and able. Just like you shaped him to be. Alas, there is something there that you once again failed to save. Just like before, like always.  

  That rageful bloodlust that confuses the host for justice and vengeance when it is neither one. It is darkness that lurks into them and finally settles into their souls.  

He is falling for the same trick as you and your dearest friends had. They entered a place and left every smidge of hope they had. What was supposed to be for justice, protection, and Sarasa, resulted in a numbness that is too disgusting to handle. It’s too brutal and vile. Bloody without a thought of washing their hands with repentance.

No matter, the tightness of your chest has you think of one thing: is it too late to save Kurapika?  

  You go back inside and wash the dishes that you dirtied from cooking his favorites. He had let you know he was coming. It is such a rarity to even be able to contact Kurapika. He’s just so busy lately. That, and he acts like he has never worked a phone before in his life. The little shit.  

  Thunder and lightning strike, shaking the ground beneath you. A slight rumble under your bare feet. You look out the window again and see a ghost from your past. Tall, silver haired, and just as beefy as before: Silva Zodlyck. You haven’t seen him since he killed you.  

  If he spots you, it will be a brawl. Another side of you that you have buried, not exorcised, all these years are calling out for his blood. To wreak havoc once more and see the fear in his eyes again. The bad thing about that is, is that you are a non combatant. An exorcist, a priestess of sorts. Not at all suited for the front lines. You can defend yourself and fight, but not on the level of him or the others.  

Hell, maybe not even Kurapika now, and you wiped that boy’s tears and snot.  

What you can do now is remain low. As much as you want to see that little brat and talk to him, to find out how he’s been, to fuss over him and see if he’s eaten yet, right now you can’t even consider that. Not when he is close to finding out. Besides, he can take care of himself for a bit. As it appears, Silva isn’t after him.  

  Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on me, trust in me.  

Your breath hitches. That smooth voice is in your head. One you haven’t heard of in years. With all the power inside, you tried to push it out. To wipe their faces from your memories.   

  You see the trash can and can only think of Little. Oh, how you tortured that boy. Putting him in trashcans and sitting on the lids and gave him noogies. Little would always retaliate but had to be held back when that one showed up to protect you. God, why are you thinking of this? There is a beast of a man who almost ended you and your dumbass is reminiscing of your bullying days.  

  Had you not pulled that one trick up your sleeve, you truly would have died by the hands of Zoldyck. It has been years since you’ve fought seriously. You trained Kurapika, but you never went full throttle. Nothing but rust is on your nen and hand-to-hand combat.

  Just sit back, don’t hide your presence or anything. That's what he’s looking for. Any kind of blip in the atmosphere. Hell, he may not even remember you!  

_____________

  You know what you have to do. There is no hope here. No compassion for others at all. The Kurta clan, Sarasa, you, no one. It is now or never.  

  You jump at the bolder of a man. Crosses paint themselves on your palms as a holy prayer escapes your lips. Your veins line with the brightest blue and the rubble around you lift off the ground from your aura. Directly, your hands clasp onto Silva’s. He looks confused and the most surprising of all, scared.

He lets go of his hatsu. In the back, there is a bloody scream. A roar that a lion can never compare itself to. A bloodlust from the roar that made Silva’s eyes widen. It is too late, the hatsu hit you straight on. Two balls of electricity and power collide with your fragile body.  

   When you came to, by pure nen, you could vaguely see your dearest. His eyes watery, voice hoarse, blood trinkling on his face. Silva is not in sight, not a single thing left behind. Did he kill him? 

  “No, no, no, damn it! Fuck!” He shakes you ever so slightly as you lay in his arms. “Heal yourself, please...”  

  You have to leave. He has no regard for you or anyone but himself. Chrollo, the boy who is only a few years older than you, yet you still bullied him, is gone. He didn’t care that you’re a non combatant. He was willing to sacrifice your life and his for his ego.  

  He only wants your ability, positively. Chrollo is gone. It is only the spider left. You have always hated spiders anyway.  

________________

Nah, Silva remembers you. He almost died too. How can he forget that he was sent to kill the man responsible for the annihilation of an entire clan? It's hard to forget a case like that considering the brutality of the deaths.   

  And if Kurapika finds out that you are Number Four, the lost spider, he’ll lose it. He'll demand to see the tattoo, no doubt. You can’t show him that. Especially since you lost a bet with Machi and Paku and put it on a place that he just has no business looking at.   

  As long as you remain calm and blend in, no one will notice. If Kurapika comes in with Silva, you’ll leave before. Pretend that you are out of town or something. Actually, that’s a good idea. You quickly write a note telling your boy that you had to rush out and that you’d call him later. To help himself to the food and make sure to rest.  

  There is another rumble under your feet. It feels different. The screams are louder, the air more ominous by the second. What is this? It touches you like a familiar hand. Something cold and clammy. Is that...Nobunaga?  

  Don't panic, don’t panic. It's been years since you faked your death and abandoned them. They probably don’t remember you, right?  

 Nah, you pantsed Nobunaga in the middle of a dubbing. He was wearing the ranger’s underwear. He always vowed to get revenge, but he was stopped by Chrollo, of course. You’ve known these people for years and fought with them side by side. You saved him several times and healed him. He will remember you.  

  There is a deathly silence. Your skin raises goosebumps all over. You can feel him. Your old friend knows or is at least trying to figure out what’s going on. You take a deep breath and remain calm. It has always been easy to trick him. How many times did you do such a thing and lead him to embarrassing situations?   And how many times did Chrollo get you out? Every. Single. Time.  

You sure were spoiled rotten by Chrollo in every way. It drove people nuts. When you were dropped off in Meteor City at the age of five, you were a terror due to pain and heartbreak. There was only so much a child could take and you weren’t able to express it properly.  

  The priest held onto patience as much as he could, but no one could ever hold a candle to Chrollo’s patience. It is as if he is a saint. You'd bite, kick, and talk over him. When they dubbed the tapes, you would always turn the tv off just because it wasn’t what you wanted to watch. Uvogin was so close to beating you so many times, but Chrollo intervened and explained to them what empathy was.   

  However, he went overboard and spoiled you rotten. In the Troupe you got part of Chrollo’s shares including what was actually yours. He made sure that you were the most taken care of out of them all. He always helped you up and protected you the most. You weren’t able to go on a mission by yourself and had to have at least two people with you, just like him.  

He always held a soft spot for you, you think. Even before you shared special moments. Until he stopped caring and went somewhere where you can’t follow.  

Now that you have abandoned the Spider, Lord only knows what’ll happen. Will he spare you for old time’s sake? Or will Feitan, also known as “Little”, finally get his revenge because of the trash cans?  

  Or Machi’s cut up clothes, and Paku’s shaved head, or Uvo’s wedgies and bites, Phinks’s eyebrows that never grew back, Shalnark’s broken nose and the tack in his sho-  

Oof, you’re going to die. And that was all done when you were like, six? There were plenty more years that you were just onery. Chrollo...that poor guy. The hell he went through before and after the Troupe...the patience of a saint.  

Spoiled, spoiled, spoiled, rotten.    

You were ungoverned and got away with things that the rest couldn’t. But this, rejecting the Spider, rejecting him, sheltering the last Kurta descendant...you’ll die.  

  Or be in a lot of pain.  

Suddenly, you feel a sharpness crawling up your arm. They're coming.  Another rumble occurs right when you back away from the sink. In the distance is a large body flying in the air with a trail of red following it. What?  

With a gross thud that you swear everyone heard, lands Silva. Beaten, bloody, gone.  

   Well, there goes that problem. On to the next, which is Nobunaga. You're caught in his en somehow. Or whatever the hell that's called. Anyway, never did you think he’d grow and be able to stretch it out this far. 

  You start to leave calmly so he doesn’t suspect anything. Just a calm person that his en is confusing for someone else! Finally, you hear the even more terrible commotion. You know Kurapika is okay if the rumors of the powerful chain user are true. And he seemed to have a lot of help. Once you shake the Nobunaga off, you’ll make your way to Pika.  

  He doesn’t know that in your past you were one of the Spider’s legs. The fourth one, to be exact. The one who died by the hands of Silva Zoldyck, years ago. Soon after the Kurta’s extinction and after the fight with the Spider’s leader, the devil himself.

You lock the backdoor and head to the woods where there is a safe spot that Kurapika used to train. As you pass by the branches and the shady trees, you are blinded by the harsh memories of your dear friend, Sarasa. She and the Troupe are a few years older than you. They spent more time with her than you did but the memories of her, those precious moments that you wanted to last for years to come, that innocence, was stripped from you. You hold onto the specks of what was left of your childhood, before the truth of hell appeared.  

   A trash bag, a child inside, the Troupe, and Chrollo who faced it first and has never recovered.  

You weren’t there to find her. It was broken down to you because of your youth and denial, you were staunch in the belief that it was a lie and that she was alive. The only one who had patience for you was Chrollo. The tantrums were the tipping point to the realization that she had suffered in her last moments.   

  When it hit you, he held you as you remained in shock. He catered to your every whim to fill in the shoes of the missing people in your life. And you left him.  

How could you not? He left you first, abandoned you for a darkness that you couldn’t shine a light through. Chrollo believed that he was a messiah to the city and to his friends. They follow blindly when you can’t. You are a thief, not a heartless killer. The Kurta didn’t deserve their fate.  

 You push past a couple of thick bushes to be startled. 

  “Come here, now.” His voice is as smooth as you remember, just a little deeper now and more commanding. Although you know him and his quirks, the atmosphere is off. A creepy feeling of nothing in the air. You can’t sense him of his anger at all. Only a chill and a hair-raising sensation that doesn’t match anyone you know. Perhaps, this is fear.  

   You walk to him as you spot him in a clearing. “Chrollie.”   

“A dead spider, huh.” He stands tall but casually with his hands in his pockets. His hair is slicked back and the tattoo on his forehead is more prominent. He’s shirtless and wears an odd coat. His style choice is different now than it was back then. Before, he would throw on normal Meteor City clothing, which consisted of whatever was around. Looking back, his favorite was a white shirt and plain black jeans. Now, he looks like he wears designer. 

  “Here I thought that you were squashed,” he looks you up and down, eyes narrowing. You feel vulnerable under his gaze. “All along you were here. Raising a devil that killed two of your own.”  

You know about Uvogin and Pakunoda. Kurapika felt so guilty, after the events he vented to you. He sounded as young as he did when you took him in. Of course, you were hurt and cried when Kurapika wasn't looking. You mourned them as anyone would. 

  “I know about that-”  

“And you still didn’t come back?” Chrollo is shaking, desperate to calm down. His fists are clenched so hard, you think they’ll bleed. This, you think, is the most anger he's ever shown. And it's toward you.  “Could I? You would’ve killed me!”  

“I would have accepted you with open arms, Number Four.” Would have.   

Number Four. He didn’t even call you by your real name. “No, you would react just as badly as you are now.”  

“Oh, my darling spider, you have no idea. All you had to do is trust me.” He shakes his head in disappointment. 

_____________

“I’m not joining, Chrollie. I’m not calling you Boss, either.” You were disappointed that they actually went through with this. Years ago, you came across their little meeting. Chrollie looked at you and asked if you wanted to join but you called them all stupid.  

“Why not? I'm the leader.” You roll your eyes. “No, you’re a theater nerd.”  

You jump and sit on the desk. He comes up to you, only inches apart. Chrollie gently cradles your face. “That part of me is gone, darling.”  

“Darling? Pretending to be all manly now? A gentleman? That's what 'darling' reminds me of. Those books you read.” You acknowledge that he’s grown up. He broader and stronger. His hands no longer smooth but are calloused and bigger than your own.  

He erases how gentle he was caressing your face and replaces it with a commanding and firm touch on your cheeks. “Join me.”  

  “No.” You answer as well as you can with your cheeks squished. Suddenly, his lips touch yours. It is your first kiss. It sends shocks to your special place. He parts from you. Embarrassingly, you follow in his direction.  

  Quickly, you snap out of the trance of your first kiss. You shake your head in defiance. “I want to travel! I want to get out of this city and experience the highs. I've already touched the lows. I don’t want to get deeper.”

"You think we’re lower than you?” There’s an edge in his tone. One that tells you to tread carefully. However, you’re not shy when it comes to Chrollie.  

“No. But I worry that you will be.” He tilts his head and asks, “Because you think I can’t take you to the there?”  

  He grabs your hand that is so much larger than yours. It's weird now. You are used to him leading you places but now you just realize the difference between you two. He’s...a man now. It’s all so new. You'll never admit that he makes you feel some type of way.  

“Let me show you.”  

Just like in the movies, you see a roller coaster for the first time. There are lights everywhere and smiling and laughing people. And not at you! Just the joys of life without worrying where the next meal is coming from. You spot the balloons in various animal shapes and see the fluffy candy. The pretzels are soft, and the fried dough the size of your head is to die for. You have never witnessed such freedom. The last time you have seen an inkling of joy was when you were a child and Chrollie was dubbing tapes. 

   The two of you get on the back of the ride. You cling onto his arm. “Scared?”  

“No!” In truth, you were. Never in your life did you ever see one of these in person. Only on the videos Chrollo would pick up. It showed the ride going fast and high with screaming people. There were twists and sharp turns on the tape. And now, you get to be one of those people to experience it.

The ride starts. He wraps his right arm around you. The roller coaster shoots out causing you to flinch.  

“I got you, trust me.” You curl into him as the ride takes a sharp turn. Right after it happened, you feel tracing between your legs. You look down and see Chrollie’s fingers rubbing against you.   

  It's...feeling really good. Your breaths become quicker as his fingers do figure eights through your underwear. You let out a little shriek when he pulls them down. Now, there’s nothing blocking him from you. The ride takes a sudden left. 

  You don’t know how it happened, how it led to this. What exactly did you say to him that incited him to massage your bud and insert a single finger inside you. Slowly coaxing moans that blend in with the screaming of everyone else. Never have you been so grateful for that. He places a kiss on your head. “Join me, swear to me.”  

   Another finger enters you. His palm rubs and presses against you. How are his fingers so long? Why are they bigger than yours and feel so much better?  

  You start to really moan as he goes faster. You lift up slightly to follow his motions with your hips. Chrollie bites and sucks on the spot under your ear. The ride starts to go up.   

“Holy sh-oh God...” You breathily cry. He growls in your ear at the sound. “I’ll take you there, to the highs. So high you’ll never see the ground.”  

You grab his wrist and move furiously, spreading your legs a little more to give him as much room as possible. You want more, need more. There is a feeling there that is about to pop. One that he can take.  

   “Swear to me.” You watch as the stars get closer. People make noises of excitement different than yours, but it blends. “Do you want me to stop?”  

“N-no! I trust you!” You grab onto anything in reach as you give up trying to keep up with him. He's cradling you, his dominant hand relentless and lips sinful. A goose bump raising feeling starts. It's cold and is making you shake even more. Chrollo feels it too.  

He's smiling when you gasp and your head goes back.  

  Everything is happening at once. Two different sensations, both caused by the boss, by Chrollo Lucilfer. And he knows it, he’s waited for it.  

  “Swear to me, trust me!” You grab his leg and squeeze it. “Let me take you there.” He whispers in your ear.  

As the ride reaches the peak, so do you. Loudly, you swear to him. To the spider and his name. His hands and whatever energy is rushing to you, cause your eyes to go back. The squelching sound is loud, but your euphoric moans of his name are louder.   

From what you gather in this state, the ride was supposed to stop. Supposed to stay on the rails rather than bounce a little. You didn't even notice that your aura was the cause for the ride's disruption.

When your high leaves you, you’re in a daze and glowing. He withdraws himself and sucks on his fingers. You gasp at the sight. It is pornographic, the hungry look in his eyes. The grey that you have known for years has become so dark and just by a lick. He grabs your hand gently and leads you away to finish what he started. Your legs shake along the way and for the rest of the night when the two of you are satisfied. The way he licked and sucked and swirled his tongue on the most delicate of places and thrusted himself inside had him gain the scratches on his back.   

The two of you created a memory that neither of you would ever forget.  

It wasn’t until you learn about the nodes do you hold a slight bitterness towards him. He caused yours to open wide because of this. Your aura nodes and a nen pact that binds you together. For the Spider.  

____________

You swallow at the memory and plenty more of similar situations with your former boss. For years you trusted him fully. But somewhere along the way, he had lost it. “Chrollie, please understand. I just didn’t agree with it anymore.”  

“Really?” He scoffs. He knows you are hiding the words to describe how it really was, how it is. You rub your eyes with the palms of your hands.   

“When you killed that entire clan...tortured them, mutilated them...I couldn’t do it anymore. You wouldn’t listen to me. You only thought of yourself.”  

“Excuse me?” His voice is low, and his eyebrows are raised. He's gotten so intimidating now. Before, he was someone you pushed over even when he was your boss. It has always been that way. You admit, you are spoiled. Undisciplined and rebellious to the Spider.  

To Chrollo Lucilfer.  

   If you are going to die today, you are leaving with giving him a piece of your mind. A dose of reality that he no longer has.  

“You completely lost yourself. How can you make dumb decisions like that?”  

“Their eyes gave Meteor City a profit that helped millions. I did it for our city.”   You shake your head no. “No, you did it for yourself. As some kind of sick powerplay! And everyone follows you blindly, and to do it without a thought. You guys kill for no reason. It didn’t use to be that way.”  

 Your lip wobbles at the memory of that day. You had gone up to Chrollo and went against the mission. It was stupid to you. It didn’t make any sense. They were going to kill these people because he wanted their eyes? You understand that he is greedy and increasingly vicious. But not cruel, not before the end. 

  He didn’t yell at you, but he did put you in your place with a stern yet calm voice. It was scary. Just as scary as he is now. You still couldn’t do it though. The thought of it made you cry.

So, he commanded you to keep watch and capture any stragglers. There were none. You ran away from the screams and ran into a boy with blond hair and blue clothing. A Kurta. The last one, to be exact. You begged him not to go over there. Afraid of his fate or him seeing the gruesome crime.  

  The Troupe were not there, only corpses. Eyes gouged out, bruises and bloody. Even the children. Lucilfer had become the devil himself.  

  You, without thought, took the boy in. You found a little village not too far away and raised him in a cottage. Unfortunately, you weren’t there every single day because of your “job”. One he knew nothing about.  

   Until your last day. You and Chrollo had been walking in Meteor City when Silva Zoldyck came. Someone called for him to eliminate the Troupe. Your dearest didn’t care that you aren’t really suited for fighting. Especially a Zoldyck.   

   That was your chance! So, when Silva had hit you with his Hatsu, you hid inside your energy and faked your death. It looked so real, felt like it too. It took a lot of healing and purifying to survive.  

  You had to do it. Your friends had lost their way. You couldn’t go along with it anymore.   

“You left.” You whimper. 

“Are you kidding me? I believe the one who abandoned the Spider, your friends, me, is you. My spoiled little brat .” He takes a few steps closer to your standing frame.   

“You went to a place where I couldn’t follow. It was no longer about finding Sarasa’s killers or protecting the city. The Spider turned evil. I knew it was happening but I didn’t face it until years later when you committed a pointless massacre.” He ignored you and talked over you.  

“You swore. And here I find you healthy, alive. While we are dying. We needed you and you left!” That ended with a powerful yell.   

“You didn’t care about me either. I was no match for Silva yet you were willing to sacrifice me. You went to a place I just couldn’t -can’t- follow.”  

  A tear drips down your face. His face is furious and slicked back hair is coming undone by him running his hand through it. He stops when he sees your tear. Instinct takes over and he wipes it.   

“Uvo, Paku, Shalnark, Korotopi. All gone and you could have stopped it. I was cursed by that boy to never talk to the Troupe again. We had to find an exorcist in Greed Island of all places because you decided we were trash.” His voice deceptively hushed and smooth. You shake your head no.  

“Not trash. Just bad leadership.”   

Chrollo’s eyes widen. This is the first time anyone has insulted his leadership. He immediately pulls your hair. You yelp and try to get out of his hold.  

“And yet you do not complain of the riches I gave your greedy ass.” He growls.  

“You are a profitable leader. A good provider. An excellent one. I hadn’t a need or want in the world,”  

You struggle to get out of his grip. It loosens as you speak. “But you aren’t a true leader. A true one would never endanger his people like you have. Never would view them as replaceable.”  

  He tosses you on the ground. You accidentally land on your wrist. Chrollo paces back and forth. “Replaceable? Bad leader-ha! Oh, love you are something.”  

   He grabs your arms roughly. You try to yank your arm out of his grasp. “You’ve already replaced me!”  

  Chrollo shakes his head no. “I could never.”  

“I’m sorry, Chrollie. I just-you-,” You take a deep breath. “Everything went downhill. We stopped looking for the killers like you promised. We weren’t Robin Hood anymore, either. Remember that story you read me? Take from the rich and give to the poor?”  

“I remember.”  

“It wasn’t that anymore. What was left was coldness and blood. And a boy whose life and childhood were taken from him. Just like ours. It wasn’t fair.”  

  “We support and provide for our home, not some random people.”  

Frustrated, you retort, “You like to listen to the sound of your own voice too much. That's why you don’t listen! You don’t realize actions have consequences until shit like Uvo and Paku happen.”  

  He raises his hand. You flinch to brace for it. This is the first time he will strike you.   

  Time is frozen as you wait for the pain. You open your eyes and see what’s the hold up. Chrollo stands frozen with his hand still in the air still. His face is no longer hardened, but shocked. His mouth is slightly open and eyes have widened. He stares at his open palm as if it had a mind of its own, and he couldn't believe it. 

Then he clears up once again to return to his previous deadly expression. Rather than striking you on your face, he lands his hand on your ass. You yelp at the impact. 

  “ Ow!” You rub the cheek he hit. “Why? Of all things?” Like him hitting your ass was supposed to be better than your face? It's demeaning! 

  He grabs your face with one hand and kisses you harshly, passionately. A confession, a return. Stupidly, you get lost in him like always.  

_______

“No! You play this instead.”  

“But I want to dub Cleanup Rangers...” Chrollo rubs his arm as he looks down at the nine year old. You were dropped off at the front doorstep of the church about a couple of years ago. Ever since then you’ve been a little terror. Always picking on people, on the priest, the entire city.   

  You are a tiny bully pushing everyone around because you’re hurt. Only Sarasa could fully calm you. While everyone else just visited the church from time to time, you were a child that had to live in it because no one liked you. You never got a nanny or substitute siblings. All you had was yourself and a priest who was often at his wits end. You had to follow him around and practice his teachings and study them. You were often times bored and thus angry at everything. 

Sarasa was a God send in his eyes and yours. Chrollo was someone who tried to follow in Sarasa’s footsteps with you but lacked the ability to tell you no. He was a patient and caring boy, but one you walk over.  

  “I don’t care! This one!” You stomp your feet.  

“Don’t let her push you around like that, Chrollo.” Uvogin recently hit a growth spurt, so he towered over you two completely.   

  “No! What I say goes. This one!” You show Uvogin the tape. “Do you even know what’s on it?”  

“No. But I want to see.”  

 Chrollo hums and places the tape inside. It turns out, it was blank. You pouted as Uvogin teased you. His smile is wide and practically glows. The laugh is boisterous and bounces off the walls. Immediately, you hit him in his most sensitive spot, causing him to buckle and groan.  

You scream at the top of your lungs. “Stop laughing at me!”   

  Laughter and a smile like that remind you too much of your parent when they dropped you off in this God forsaken, dirty, and polluted place. You hate it. “It’s okay. Here, we’ll do the Clean up Rangers and you can help if you want!”  

  Chrollo took out the blank tape and put it aside. He picked you up and placed you on the desk closest to him. Uvo hisses and glares at you. You frown and stick out your tongue.  

“Listen, you can play the-”  

“No. I'm scared of that.” He knows good and damn well you don’t listen. He looks at you confused until he deduces the problem. “Stage fright?”  

Confused, you ask, “What’s that?”  

 Uvogin groans in the background with every dirty word he can muster. He curses Chrollo for being so gentle with you and a “pushover”. You quickly tell him to shut up or you’ll hurt him even worse.  

  “It’s when you get scared to talk in front of a bunch of people.” You sat in front of him and nodded. “Okay, how about you have a front row seat then! Make sure you cheer us on, alright?”  

   You're still pouting. He rubs your cheek. You want to play with the rest of them too! They never let you play normal things. He hugs you and rubs your back to console you.  

“Trust me. It'll be fun!”  

___________

You wrap your arms around his neck, gently tugging at his hair. What was a proclamation of dominance, turned into an embrace of passion. You part from him slightly. You rub his chest and ask, “Why did you lose your way? Killing all of those people?”  

“Why did you stop trusting me?”  

“You are willing to sacrifice everyone, even me.”  That day with Silva Zoldyck was proof of your accusation, of your observation.  He sucks on your neck with the intent of a mark. You give him a gasp. Slightly muffled, “Why do you doubt me? Do you honestly think I would have? You stopped trusting me.”  

He nibbles on your ear. You try to pull away before you are totally caught in him. “The Kurta-”  

 “Are responsible for Sarasa’s death and for some of the trafficking of children. Getting rid of them was necessary. Do you understand?” He continues to kiss down your neck, making sure to suck on the best places. He holds you a little closer. 

You want to believe there was a deeper reason for the extermination of the Kurta. “You barely remember it, so it can’t be true. Hell, how can I believe you when you don’t care about anyone?” He slaps your ass again. You are this close to smacking the shit out of him. You rub your bum in hopes to stop the stinging.  

 “Stop that! That’s not funny!” You pull away to see an indifferent face for a split second.  Chrollo grabs the back of your hair and pulls you in once again. His personality flips like a switch. The sweetness is gone and back is the bloodlust and anger. Honestly, it never left. It was just hidden to trick you.  He's a good actor like that.

____________

“What are you guys doing?” Phinks groans at the sight of you. Recently, he had to pull Feitan out of the trashcan again. Next to him is Feitan saying words in his native tongue that would have made a sailor blush. You blow a kiss to them both just to antagonize them. 

“Enough, she’s part of the Spider now.” Chrollo, right on his forehead, has a cross tattoo that kind of resembles a web. You don't know where he got it done at. 

“Her? What can she do?” Machi crosses her arms. You always wondered if she liked Chrollie. If she knew what the two of you did last night, she’d scream.  

You’re still a little sore and flustered. But happy and satisfied. Never have you felt so good. At first it was so sweet and dare you say, loving. Then as the night went on it became animalistic.  

Rather than sit around him, waiting to hang on to his every word, you sit next to him, chomping on some chips you found. You hear some groans and mumbles about how you are and how you’re going to get away with everything. Again.  

You stick your tongue out and say, “That’s why I ain’t sharing...bitch ass.” Phinks crosses his arms. “Damn it...”  

“Enough,” He stares down at you. “Like I said, she is a leg. And an exorcist.”   

You feel his eyes on you again. You look up to see his eyes. “The fourth leg.”  

________

“You are coming home, now.” He drags you by the back of your neck.   

“Wait, stop!”   

“Shut the ever living fuck up.” He squeezes you harder. Wasn't he just loving on you like two seconds ago? You have always wondered if he was all there. He seemed genuine when he was a kid but seeing the man he's become, you may never know. 

  “Hold on! You said the Kurta killed Sarasa. How do you know?”   

“Sheila told us.”  

  You see the rest of the legs. They look unbothered until they see you. Shock is painted on their faces so vibrantly.   

“I thought...I thought she hadn’t seen you in years?”  You have a sense of confusion and suddenly, dread. 

____

Sheila limps to a cave. You see her as you run away from the Troupe and their horrific actions. This happened right before you would spot a blond boy. “Sheila?”   

“Oh my God!” She hugs you tightly. Her leg has always been messed up since she was a child.   

  You feel like crying at the sight of her. It has been you and the Spider for so long now, you were forgetting what Sheila was like. She was the closest thing you had to Sarasa. You had your own way of loving someone, but Sarasa seemed the most natural. A big sister, a mother even. A girl who always shared stickers with you and sang you to sleep.  

  “What’s going on?” She asks as you hug return her hug. “T-they’re killing them!”  

  “Who? Who’s dying?”   

“The Kurta!” Sheila gasps. “I was just with them. Oh no, did I-”  

You sniffle and wipe your eyes. “No, no. This is on them.”  

“And the Kurta were so nice too. Harmless, peaceful.”  

____

Why did she say that if she knew they killed Sarasa? When did her and Chrollo talk? You were with Chrollo the whole time, so it couldn’t have been that day.   

  You see Sheila in the background. She is looking down at the ground, then looks up with the most wicked smile and gleam. What? You stare back with horror. Never has she had that smile. It is foreign and totally misplaced. This is Sheila, not a Troupe member. Why is she even here? She isn’t a part of it and disapproved of the group.  

Then, everything is falling together.   

  Everyone’s faces are that of monsters.   

You don’t understand. She told them of their whereabouts. She said something completely different to you. And of course, you believed her. Her and Sarasa were like sisters. They were so close it was like looking at twins. Never would you have thought she could commit such a sin. The Kurta were innocent, but...what’s going on? Everyone was desperate to capture Sarasa’s killers-oh no. You stop moving your feet, only to be dragged by Chrollo Lucilfer. He moves his hand from your neck to your arm in a tight hold, tripping you along the way.  

  “No, no, no!” You’re trying to yank free. How can he not see it? He’s the smartest person you know. How can he not see what had taken place that day? The horror, the blood and mutilation. Chrollo, you must see this!   

The Kurta and Sarasa were innocent. Kurapika...your boy.   

“Chrollo, don’t you see?” You whisper for only him to hear. He looks down at you as the rain begins to fall gracefully.   

  You can feel the tears swell.  

Does he know what happened that day? That the Troupe and Sheila are monsters. And not just because of the Kurta’s extinction. You may not have all of the puzzle pieces, but by the reactions alone, it becomes clearer.  

Out of everyone here, you struggle to read him. Always have, even when you were kids. You only catch the truth from time to time when he gives it to you. They are few in between. 

  “Have they made a fool of you?” It is rare to one up Chrollo. His power can wipe nations, his aura is powerful and vast, his commanding tone is one that cannot be ignored.   

 “Sacrifices have to be made.” He bluntly answers without a hint of remorse or second thought. His tone is final and dead. Like he has nothing else to say about it.  

_______

“I’m fucking sick of her-!” Uvogin plops down on the chair. It creaks under him. Before Uvogin can continue his ranting, another voice pipes up on the matter of a certain little girl.   

“She’d...be fun.” His voice is recognizable to anyone due to his lack of pure fluency. His hair is choppy right now because a brat got her hands on a pair of scissors. The thick, black, strands are being fixed by Pakunoda. It isn’t the best, but at least it wouldn’t look as bad as it did.   

Machi taps her foot. “She would be, huh?”   

  “It can’t be us, though. Too obvious.” Shalnark points. Collectively, the friends are beginning to plan and imagine a better Meteor City.  

“Are you guys being serious, right now? This is a child you’re talking about.” Pakunoda taps on Feitan’s shoulder, signaling that she’s done. He turns back to look at her and answers, “Deadly.”  

  Machi sighs. “You’re right, Shal. It is too obvious. And we have rehearsal with Chrollo, too.”  

  Pakunoda crosses her arms. “This isn’t sitting right. Something is going to go wrong.”  

“Remember your shaved head?” Machi asks. Pakunoda tenses up at the memory of you butchering her hair. Who keeps giving you scissors? You would be cute with that crooked smile of yours if it wasn't caused by the loss of her hair. 

  “There are a lot more bad things going on in the city. Accidents happen all the time, Paku.” Nobunaga puts his hair into a bun. Pakunoda remains silent. “We can’t let anyone else know. Only ones in this room.”  

  As said, bad things happen to kids in Meteor City all the time.  

 

Sarasa decided to go find a tape instead of you since you have a habit of picking blanks. You stomped your foot in protest. You wanted to go! You’d finally had the right directions to pick up some good tapes, anyway. Alas, Sarasa went while Chrollo soothed you.  

She skips along and sees a few men ready to welcome her in the worst way.   

“Is it her?”  Uvogin’s heart is racing. It's pounding so loud it’s in his ears. The rain is the only outside noise as Chrollo reluctantly opens the bag.  

Chrollo opens the bag and sees the face of Hell. Uvo grabs him and demands to know what is on the note since he can't read it. The wrong face is behind that letter, that much is known. The wrong directions were given to the wrong child. Everyone needs to know. To hear the mistake and pain, the truth.  

The words on that letter will never be spoken.   

_____

“The Kurta is an isolated clan with special eyes. They'd be a good cover, no?” Sheila asks. Lately, Sarasa’s murder is being brought up more and more. Chrollo is turning into the leader that Meteor City needs. And an omnipotent being. A terrifying, controlling, mastermind of a god. One that demands respect and cooperation, devotion to what he’s created: a spider. But that spider has one weakness that at a drop of a hat, can cause this god to wreak havoc on everything. 

Calm and collected he appears, but thunderous when he strikes. Loyal to what is his, but horrible in all.   

  “So, the Kurta. Agree?”  

“Aye.” They say in unison. “It’s not like anyone would miss them.”  

_____

The more you study him, the more you wonder if he knows. Was he blind or was he in on it and spun that story of him finding her? How could any of them do this?   

“Please, not you...” You whisper. Chrollo’s book is open to a page fit for an exit. A green portal opens. “No! No, no, no!”  

You struggle even more as everything, except for Chrollo’s role, becomes clear. You are not the smartest, but you are stupid. Years in that blasted city has taught you valuable lessons of reading people. Years of knowing these people have given you an advantage on top of that. Well, not everything obviously. “Chrollo, what did you do?”  

He glances down at you once more. “I am the Head, my fourth limb. But even a spider has a treasure to keep.”   

  His grey eyes are dull but with the slightest hint of possessiveness. You'd recognize it anywhere. It is the same look he gave you when you saw him today, it is the same when you first met him and he had decided to keep you under his wing, it is the same as when you finally joined the Troupe. 

  This wicked gleam has always sought you, always found you. Unfortunately, you could never read them other than that. Like you said, he only shows what he wants you to see and even then, it is blurry. God, you wish you could. If only for a moment to answer your question. Just a straight answer, the truth, about how or why Sarasa died. She was innocent and sweet. She was your friend! Everyone’s, actually.  

 So, why? What could she have possibly done to deserve such a fate? How can he not see the true culprits? What about the Kurta? Did he know and went with it anyway?  

No, that’s a bad deal. It can’t be just one question and one answer. You have too many questions. And not a single one will be answered, you bet.   

  He drags you to the portal. The Troupe starts to enter it. Phinks looks at you for a split second. For that one second his eyes look...sad? No, that’s not possible with someone like him. Like them. You are accepting that you’re in danger, but not that these beasts have a heart or a capability of remorse.  

You look around frantically. Where's Kurapika? Is he dead?   

Would he save someone like you?  

“(Y/n), who are you looking for?” Chrollo asks. He doesn’t even look at you. You want to call out for Kurapika, but that’d expose him to danger. No, if your boy hates you let that be so. At least he’ll be okay. Hopefully he has learned to make his own attire.  

  “You can’t do this, Lucilfer.”   

“But dear, I can, I have, and I will.” A few more steps to the portal. “Lucilfer, I don’t want to go.”   

You yank your arm out of his grasp. “Stop this! I don’t want to go. Do you know what they did?”  

He calmly turns around and stares at you. He expected this behavior from you. He walks to your frozen form, causing the few survivors of the village to jump. Once again, he cradles your face and places the gentlest of kisses on your lips. They're still soft, you note. Still full and masterful. 

Right as your eyes are about to close, you see that he is looking at something past you as the kiss begins to get more intense. More possessive by his hold and the movement of his lips. His grey eyes are narrowed at something that you can’t see.  

Is this a claiming? What the hell is he looking at?   Done being curious, you turn to look and see your boy Kurapika’s horrified and furious expression. You have no thoughts other than your impending fate. Your vicious crimes and relentlessly cruel past have resurfaced in the form of a wicked man. The boy you took care of and never verbally admitted you loved him as your own, is ruined even more. His heart is broken.  

 Sarasa is gone, the Spider reigns supreme, and you are stuck. There are more questions than answers at this point. Too many lies from a group that cling together in some sick and twisted loyalty. You have accepted that in the middle of that is the boy you admired and maybe even loved.

And you finally understand what Phinks meant. It wasn’t remorse, it was pity for an old and spoiled friend as they are pushed onto the spider’s web.  

[j-eryewrites]

Stressed Out

MAIN MASTER LIST

Word Count: 1.k <

Warnings: Not really any, kind of ooc Sherlock (but who cares)

Author's Note: Finally feeling like I have time to write and that the writing gods have been in my favor. This was a fun little one-shot to write. While I'm still trying to get back into my writing groove, this one shot definitely helped get some of the dust off my creative writing brain. So, thank you @my-dear-sweet-melody for requesting this one. I hope you enjoy it!

You weren’t sure how you’d been doing it: managing the day-to-day lives of two people who also happened to be good friends of yours, assisting Sherlock with cases, seeing things you’d never thought you’d see in your lifetime (both good and bad), juggling relationships, your own well-being and health, and time to relax. Although it seemed like you had less and less time to do the things concerning yourself. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but when you were thrust into the world of Sherlock Holmes, more important things came into play.

Sherlock was the first to notice how the stress was weighing on you. It was a total shock when he casually announced your current state to John. The moment the words of concern were uttered from Sherlock’s lips, the puzzle in John’s mind had been completed. With the help of Mrs. Hudson, the two men began to conspire to make life easier for their dear friend.

At first, Sherlock’s conscious decision to wash his dishes and put them away in the correct cabinets struck you as odd. Sherlock’s mind was usually too busy for such arbitrary tasks, and such magnificent brain power couldn’t be wasted on such a thing. Then came the tidiness of his experiments. You could swear you hadn’t seen a stray finger or eyeball dissolving in vinegar for quite some time.

When you had asked Sherlock about his new behavior, he shrugged it off with some wildly strange research idea he had come up with. You tried to follow along, but your brain began to hurt after a moment, so you opted to believe him instead.

Meanwhile, John took extra care to charge his and Sherlock’s devices. He knew no matter how brilliant Sherlock was, the man seemingly ceased to forget that computers, phones, and the lot needed to be charged via a charging cord and port. On the other hand, Mrs. Hudson made the note to prepare extra tea and biscuits to save yourself the trouble of doing that for Sherlock and John.

Now, you felt no need to question John and Mrs.Hudson’s new behavior. It was in character for them to do small things like that. However, you continued to question Sherlock; he grew tired of it. Why couldn’t you see that he cared for you, too? That maybe he cared a bit more for you than he should. He was growing weary of the excuses he made to your insistent questions when all he wanted to do was throw them up and tell you the truth. Truthfully, the truth was something he insisted upon. Sherlock always found it one way or another. Yet, he could only fib when you had a new query about his altered behavior. Was it hard for you to understand that Sherlock could care? That he, too, could be human?

“Sherlock,” you called as you sat on the couch, pouring over the current case. It was usually your job to organize each thing into its Sherlockian category to save Sherlock his brain power. However, when you opened the file, it had already been done. “Did I happen to organize this in my sleep?” You raised the file and peered at him. Sherlock felt his mind conjure up the latest lie. Just before it left his mouth, he paused. He got up and marched to the window, where he began to gaze out onto the street below. He couldn’t lie anymore. He had to tell you the truth.

“I organized it,” Sherlock said.

You froze. Something was seriously wrong with the man if he was now organizing his own cases. “Sherlock, you never orga–”

“Why can’t I?” Sherlock’s voice grew tense. His eyes clenched shut, all while his back was still towards you. He wouldn’t dare look at you. He knew if he saw your eyes, he’d crumble and tell you everything, but everything was what you needed to hear. Everything was what he needed to say.

“I never said you couldn’t. It’s just,” you faltered, “…strange.”

Within a moment, Sherlock whirled around. His icy blue eyes began to thaw under your gaze. “I observed you have stressed: Your trousers falling to your hips instead of hanging snuggly on your waist, the dark circles under your eyes that only grew prominent by the day, the growing urge to sleep instead of join Mrs. Hudson for the weekly watch party of the latest soap opera,” Sherlock shut his mouth. He had said too much already; he shouldn’t say more, but his lips moved again. “I wasn’t the only one who noticed, John and Mrs. Hudson, too. We devised a plan to lessen the blow of our–my constant mess.”

As Sherlock spoke, you realized his words were only the truth. You had noticed you suddenly had more time to eat a meal, spend time with your favorite landlady, who was more like a mother, go on walks in the park with John, listen to Sherlock compose his latest piece, sleep, and live life as it should be lived. Amidst Sherlock’s rambling, you whispered, “Why?”

“Because we–because I care you for,” Sherlock choked.

Slowly, you remove yourself from the comfort of the couch cushions and find a place in front of Sherlock. You watch as Sherlock shudders from the touch of your hand on his cheek. “Thank you,” you said as a smile grew. “Thank you for caring when I forgot to take care of myself. Although…”

Sherlock frowned.

“…while I appreciate the sentiment of you organizing your own cases, John charging the computers, and Mrs. Hudson always preparing tea, I’d still like to be able to do my job. After all, the great Sherlock Holmes still needs to use his brain power to solve cases and save the day.”

Sherlock could only smile at that response for he'd give you anything you'd ask. "Of course. Of course, Y/N."

____

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_____

[strawchocoberry]

OBSESSED

ᯓ★ featuring. hermes x fem reader

ᯓ★ trigger warning. sexual assault by zeus || content warning. sadist, possessive, obsessive, yandere hermes, smut, s&m, spanking, bondage, choking, use of sex toys (vibrator, blindfold, ball gag), orgasm control, edging, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, nipple play, marking, oral sex (m receiving), throat-fucking, creampie, breeding kink, dacryphilia, aftercare

ᯓ★ synopsis. In public, he’s the perfect butler. In private, he’s a sadistic beast tormenting his cute, clumsy maid.

❝Know you can’t live without it, you know I got your heart unlocked

Know you try to fight it, fallin’ deeper by the minute, day and night❞

ᯓ★ word count. 3.4k

⤷ note. originally posted on ao3 on May 2, 2024

It is known in all of Asgard that while Hermes appears relatively harmless, he is but a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Even among the Olympian Gods, few — if only Zeus alone — probably know of his power. Every day, the Messenger of Gods diligently carries out his assigned duties as Zeus’ butler, fulfilling the God’s every need with expertise and promptitude.

While of course Hermes is more than capable of performing his assigned tasks on his own, he doesn’t mind the occasional help Y/N provides. A low rank Goddess and maid, Hermes’ personal assistant. Or she should have been helping him at least.

Instead of relieving the God from some of his seemingly endless duties, Y/N usually gets caught up in trouble, forcing him to intervene and help her out. Not only is she not as good at her job as Hermes, but she also gives him more unnecessary work to clean after. Even so, Hermes doesn’t seem to mind at all.

He is always so polite and eager to help her, explaining time and again what she did wrong and how she should fix her mistake. Whenever they are caught by the eyes of passer-by Gods and Goddesses, they all pause to comment on Hermes’ benevolence. An inefficient maid would have been kicked out anywhere else; Goddess or not.

Something that the other residents of Asgard are not aware of, though, is that Hermes is secretly obsessed with his cute, clumsy maid. And while he gets her out of every predicament she finds herself in, he is more than willing to punish her for her mistakes when it’s just the two of them.

“I thought I asked you to perfectly polish the silverware, Y/N,” Hermes states in a sharp tone, his condescending and scolding voice hinting his annoyance.

The sound of the spank echoes in the dark, dimly lit room, accompanied by the rattle of chains. She bites down on her lower lip to muffle her cries, as Hermes spanks her once more. His gloved hand caresses the reddened flesh of her arse, sending shivers down her spine. He stands behind her, his other hand snaking its way to her neck.

“And yet there was a spot left on one of the knives,” he continues in the same tone as before, completely disregarding the tears silently falling from her eyes. “Thankfully, I noticed it and replaced it on time, before Zeus saw.”

His hand moves from her arse down her tummy and between her legs. When she instinctively closes them, Hermes slaps her thighs apart, eliciting a small whimper from her lips. He rubs his fingers on her folds, the friction from his glove making her wetter than she already is.

“I considered letting you off the hook now, but you made another mistake, darling,” he whispers darkly in her ear, his hot breath and touch making her squirm in his arms. “You know that I love hearing your whimpers and cries. Yet you denied me of that pleasure.”

Her eyes widen when she feels him slipping in her pussy a small vibrator. Hermes doesn’t waste time with gradually increasing the speed. On the contrary, he hits max speed instantly, relishing how her legs shake and her hands hold onto the chains for dear life. If it weren’t for those chains, she would have already fallen on the floor long ago.

Even if she wanted to, Y/N wouldn’t have been able to contain her whimpers. Her melodic sounds linger on Hermes’ ears, turning him on. He could listen to her moans and whimpers all day for eternity without getting bored. Releasing her from his arms, he leaves her chained up to the ceiling and walks to the sofa opposite from her. Sitting down, he crosses his legs and picks up a freshly poured cup of tea, taking a sip as he enjoys the symphony playing for him and him only.

This is the part of Hermes nobody but Y/N knows. His true self. The possessive God with sadistic tendencies and an unhealthy obsession with his cute, clumsy maid. Being the private man that he is, no one would ever suspect the beast he becomes with her behind closed doors.

And whilst he loves getting drunk on her pussy gripping tightly his cock, Hermes prefers this; seeing Y/N at his complete mercy — or lack thereof. When he senses her nearing her orgasm, he decreases the speed, denying her of that pleasure. The small hint of relief that warms in her eyes makes his wicked smirk bigger. Because it’s when he hits max speed again and all hope disappears from her eyes that makes him more and more obsessed with her.

He edges her for what seems like eternity itself. Y/N can barely hold herself on her feet. Her naked body glistens with sweat, her heavy breathing is audible in the silence of the room. Her mind is fuzzy, dazed by all her denied orgasms. A low moan escapes her lips when Hermes pulls the vibrator out of her pussy, her head falling on his chest. He pushes the sweaty strands of her hair out of her face, caressing her cheeks as he tilts her head up.

“M-Master…” she weakly says.

Hermes smirks. “Oh, you poor thing,” he muses with faux sympathy. “You look like you will come the moment I thrust my cock in.”

In an instant, he unbuckles his belt and lowers his trousers and boxer briefs just enough to free his throbbing cock. He lifts her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, sliding in with ease. His eyes widen with surprise, as Y/N cums right then and there, her juices creaming all over his cock. A wicked laugh reverberates through his chest, as he starts thrusting.

“My, my,” he coos, “look at the mess you’ve made.” He points at her arousal gushing out and dripping all over the floor. His grip on her thighs tightens, his fingers digging into her flesh so painfully, her pussy clenches around his girth. “But it’s fine. You took your punishment so well, so I will overlook this.”

It’s another day in Asgard and yet it’s not. This one is different. Today, the God’s Council is in session which will determine the fate of humankind.

Y/N is in the lounge area of Zeus’ chambers, preparing some tea and refreshments as per Hermes’ orders. She’s still a bit sore after her master’s latest punishment, though the mere recollection of the events makes her cheeks blush and her pussy throb in anticipation of reliving those moments.

As she turns around, she’s caught off guard when she’s caged in somebody’s arms, their face buried in her breasts. It doesn’t take her long to realise who it is. And despite this not being her first ride, her voice still sounds surprised as she says, “Lord Zeus?”

The face of the frail old man greets her, still half-buried in her breasts. Zeus is smiling excitedly — for what, she doesn’t know. He rubs his face in her breasts, his hands roaming behind her to grope her arse.

“Listen to this, Y/N!” the perverted geezer says. “That cunning Valkyrie vixen interrupted the God’s council to propose we hold Ragnarok! She actually thinks humanity has a chance of winning against us!” He laughs. “It sounded fun, so we agreed. Ragnarok will start tomorrow.”

“Wow, Lord Zeus,” she responds, trying to sound somewhat excited and interested. “You are completely correct. Those lowly humans could never defeat us.” Y/N tries to untangle herself from his clutches, but despite his frail appearance, Zeus is still the leader of the Greek Pantheon and immeasurably strong. “I suppose you will participate in Ragnarok?”

“But of course!” Zeus exclaims, subtly forcing her to walk backwards.

“Then I should take my leave and let you rest,” she politely says. “You need to prepare for tomorrow and—”

Y/N squeals as she falls on the couch. Zeus hovers over her, holding her down with enough strength to completely immobilise her. His perverted gaze makes her sick. But she, a lowly Goddess, cannot possibly escape him.

“Y/N, I think I’m a bit rusted,” Zeus coos.

Yes, because you’re an old fart, is what Y/N wants to say, but doesn’t dare to.

“How about you help me stretch my muscles a bit?” he proposes.

The sound of somebody clearing their throat and the heavy footsteps that follow catch their attention. Her eyes widen when she notices Hermes approaching them. He has his usual polite mask on, yet that mask has slightly cracked. She can tell by the hint of darkness in his eyes that vanishes the moment he stands next to them. Disregarding Zeus, Hermes catches her wrist and pulls her to him, before turning to the God.

“Lord Zeus, I’ve told you a million times not to meddle with our maids,” Hermes reminds him, his voice slightly criticising. “It hinders their work.”

Zeus looks at her for a second, before averting his gaze back to Hermes. The tension in the room is suffocating.

Of course, Hermes couldn’t care less about whom his father sleeps with. But Y/N is simply out of the question. His possessiveness is spilling all over, casting shackles that bind her with him. Even if Zeus were to command him to hand her over, Hermes would disobey. That’s how obsessed he is with her.

Zeus realises that and sighs defeated. He slouches back on the sofa, propping his elbow on the armrest and leaning on his closed fist.

Hermes smiles pleased. “I’ll call over one of your favourites shortly.” He bows slightly.

Taking her hand, the two of them disappear from the room. His grip is slightly painful, yet Y/N doesn’t dare utter a word. As they walk down the busy corridor, the atmosphere is hectic due to news of Ragnarok having spread throughout Asgard. Hermes quickly makes arrangements for a woman to be sent over to Zeus, then pushes Y/N into his chamber.

As the door closes with a menacing thud, she gulps. She takes steps back, trembling both in fear and excitement as rage and jealousy fill his eyes. Hermes attacks her, lifting her in his arms. He walks over to his bed, sitting on the edge with her in his lap, capturing her lips, devouring her like a beast. He doesn’t bother unbuttoning her maid uniform. He tears the fabric apart, buttons flying everywhere around them.

His glove-clad hands grope her breasts harshly, making her cry out his name. He teases her nipples, running the pads of his thumbs over them and feeling them tighten under his touch. He pinches and bites them, leaving his marks all over them. “Mine,” he says in a dark voice. His hands grope her arse, spanking her and making her moan. He caresses her skin, before spanking her again.

His fingers dig into her flesh, as he looks into her eyes. “Mine… Mine… Mine…” Hermes repeats like a mantra.

He’s snapped, she notices. His possessiveness is running rampant, subduing his sadistic desire to inflict unimaginable pain on her body. No, right now Hermes wants to own every inch of her body and have all of Asgard hear her screaming his name, so that nobody else thinks of having her.

He fumbles with undoing his belt and trousers and immediately slips into her warm, tight pussy. Hermes groans as she wraps her arms around his neck. He holds onto her waist with a bruisingly tight grip, guiding her into riding him. He buries his face in her breasts, nibbling and biting her flesh, making her squirm and moan so deliciously, creaming all over his cock.

“Mine,” he groans as he thrusts up in her pussy. “Mine,” he groans as he marks her body. “Mine,” he groans as he spills his hot seed in her pulsating depths.

Before Y/N has time to catch her breath, Hermes manhandles her into her hands and knees. He thrusts inside her again, a white ring forming around his cock. His ferocious thrust has her fall over, burying her face in the pillows.

“Grab the headboard,” he authoritatively orders.

His command reverberates throughout her body, her pussy pulsing around his throbbing cock and making her drunk-dazed in ecstasy. Despite being lost in her trance, she pushes herself off the mattress and grabs the headboard tightly as he had ordered her. And that’s when Hermes unleashes his assault, ravaging her with each thrust.

He slams her hips on his, sadistically smirking at the bruises he’s inflicted on her skin. Her screams and moans and whimpers delight him beyond words are capable of describing. He bites down on her shoulder, feeling her pussy clench him so satisfyingly tight that has him cumming again. His seed spills out of her, making a mess of the sheets, but he doesn’t care as he fucks it back into her. Again. And again. And again.

Until his aggression has calmed down.

Y/N, exhausted and ever so satisfied, falls limply on the mattress, murmuring, “Thank you, Master.”

The soft smile in her lips warms his expression, as he plants a kiss on her forehead. He lifts her in his arms and takes her to the bathroom, running her a soothing warm bath and washing her, then bringing her favourite snacks and cuddling with her.

The first bout of Ragnarok has just finished with Thor winning against Lü Bu, giving the Gods their first win and bringing humankind one step closer to annihilation. There’s a small break before the second round begins.

Y/N was running a few last minute errands for Hermes and is now heading to the stands. Her running gradually becomes walking before halting. She gently bows to the God in front of her. “Good luck on your match, Lord Loki.”

“No need to be so formal, Y/N,” Loki responds, his usual playfulness painting his voice. “I won’t be fighting any time soon, so…” he trails off. He pins her to the wall with ease, towering over her with a sadistic smile. “Why don’t you keep me company till the next bout begins?”

Y/N sighs, pushing past the Norse God. “I’m busy right now.”

Her relationship with the God of Mischief is a unique one. She is among the God’s favourite targets, always pranking her whenever they come across each other. And while Loki sometimes makes sexual remarks, he doesn’t mean them. Rather he loves to tease Hermes with them, throwing promises of fucking his little maid to rile him up. And when Hermes has been giving Y/N the silent treatment or is simply too busy to pay her attention, she teams up with Loki to push Hermes’ jealousy button.

Loki takes a step back, letting her pass. A mischievous dark grin curls his lips as he walks behind her, making his usual remarks. Y/N just lets him be. She halts as she notices Hermes approaching them. The latter doesn’t seem too happy to see them together. But he hides it almost perfectly behind his mask.

She jolts, feeling Loki’s hand wrapping around her waist and planting her to his side. Hermes’ gaze darkens and his friendly mask turns neutral to hostile. Y/N is still sore from the previous night, yet she can’t help but be turned on under her master’s intimidating glare. So, despite knowing he won’t let her off the hook so easily, she goes along with Loki’s play, letting him hold her.

“Hermes, can I borrow her for a while?” Loki mischievously asks, before his playful gaze darkens with lust. He moves behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist and holding her to him. “I’ve been dying to taste her pussy.” He smirks.

Hermes doesn’t acknowledge him, as he looks at his maid. Y/N feels her body catching fire wherever he looks. She tries to read his eyes, but can’t. And that excites her even more. The promise of the unknown punishment he has in store for her.

Hermes turns to Loki. “I’m afraid she and I have urgent business to attend to.” Before Loki can say anything, Hermes catches her wrist and drags her after him.

Y/N turns around to look at Loki waving at her, saying inaudibly, “Have fun.” He stands there for a minute, pondering over what to do now that his favourite target was stolen away. “Guess I’ll go prank my uncle,” he says, transforming to Thor and heading to the stands.

As they walk to Hermes’ chambers, anticipation builds up inside Y/N. Her nipples harden inside her uniform and her pussy is already drenched. And he hasn’t touched her yet. Entering his chambers, Hermes shuts the door and pushes her to the floor, making her kneel before him.

“I guess last night wasn’t enough for you, my little maid.”

The scolding tone in his voice makes her realise that perhaps she had made a mistake. A terrible mistake.

“I’m busy enough as is,” Hermes exclaims, while unbuckling his belt. He motions her to come closer and she willingly opens her mouth when he presses his cock on her lips. He thrusts inside, hitting the back of her throat. “I don’t need you running around and causing me more trouble.”

He grabs her hair in his hands, holding her head in place as he fucks her mouth. She’s holding onto his thighs, trying to withstand his ferocious thrusts. She loves feeling him occupy her mouth. She wants to slide her hand under her uniform’s skirt and touch her pulsing core, but she knows her master won’t like it. Which is precisely why she does it, sliding her fingers in and out of her drenched pussy, moaning on his cock.

“You just can’t obey even the simplest of commands, can you?” Hermes groans, smirking as he looks down at her.

He buries himself in her mouth, spilling his cum down her throat. He pulls back and watches her swallow, pleasing him. Yet the fact that she disobeyed him remains. Y/N watches him with a puzzled expression as he fixes his attire.

Catching her by her bicep, Hermes pulls her to her feet, dragging her to the bed. He throws her on it, feasting on the fearful gleam in her eyes. I’m screwed, she thinks. And he doesn’t need to be able to read her mind to know. He binds her wrists and ankles to the bed and she willingly obeys this time. Y/N knows that negotiating with him will only make her position even worse.

“Now,” Hermes’ voice rings in her ears as a bell of doom.

He lifts her skirt up, sliding her lacy panties to the side. He slides his fingers up her folds, smirking at her whimper. He puts a blindfold over her eyes and straps a ball-gag in her mouth. Y/N remains still, despite her slight trembling. The God slides inside her a small vibrator, starting at a low speed.

“Since I cannot trust you to stay out of trouble, you’ll remain here till I return,” Hermes orders, caressing her cheek with his gloved fingers.

He returns to the stands to watch the following matches, leaving her all alone, deprived of sight and voice. Hermes knows her so well, he doesn’t need to be in the same room as her to control the vibrator. He discreetly changes speeds, alternating between low and high speeds, imagining her writhing in ecstasy, tugging at her binds, as her sweet nectar drips from her core. Hermes looks forward to going back to his chamber and breaking her some more.

Y/N doesn’t hear the door opening and closing. She doesn’t know how much time has passed since Hermes left, but she can tell she passed out at least two times from her continuous orgasms. Her body is trembling with exhaustion and bliss. Her uniform is stuck on her, while drool trickles down the corners of her mouth.

She jolts as she feels her master’s gloved hand caressing her tear-stained cheek, making him chuckle menacingly. She moans as he removes the vibrator. When he takes off her blindfold and gag, she blinks a couple times before she adjusts back to the light. She watches him position himself between her legs and tries to close them, but the binds don’t let her.

“Did you enjoy your punishment, my little maid?” Hermes wickedly asks, before ruthlessly thrusting in her pussy, making her scream from being too sore and sensitive. “Because we’re only getting started.”

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work

[808airsoftbros]

A Part of Me Lives Inside Me (Kim Jiwon)

Author: Just a story that I came up in my head and the inspiration came from another creepypasta story I listened. If you want to check out more stories do go to my Masterlist

Author's POV

It was uneventful day for Kim Y/N as he was driving home after his long day of work in the office, he was looking forward to the comfort of his home and to see his wife.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me..." He muttered and groaned as he saw a large pack of cars backed up in an intersection.

He peered his head out of the car window to get a better look and there he saw multiple ambulances tending to a major accident.

Deeply sighing knowing that this will make him very late and will probably be midnight by the time he gets home as this will take a while for this to clear up.

When the accident was finally cleaned up, traffic was flowing once again but Y/N sped up a little to make up lost time.

Passing through yellow lights right before it turned red and breaking the speed limit without miraculously getting caught by the police.

However, this would soon turn consequential as suddenly he saw an incoming freight truck but it was too late for him to react...

*crash*

It was all in a blur, his car collided right into the truck, and the front bumper was bent and broken along with the truck but they weren't the most damaged...

That honor belonged to our dear friend, Kim Y/N, his blood was everywhere and he soon passed out from losing too much blood along with God knows what injuries.

Soon EMS arrived at the scene, the truck driver luckily made it out with a few scratches but Y/N had to be hauled to the hospital as soon as possible.

Jiwon on the other hand was at home worrying and wondering what could be holding up her husband this late and was about to call him until her phone rang.

When she realized it was the local hospital, she answered it and the nurse informed her of the accident and she was heartbroken and shocked.

Not wasting a moment further, she grabbed her keys and rushed to the hospital, by the time she arrived, Y/N was covered in bandages and plaster completely unconscious.

"Mister Kim is in a coma, we're not entirely sure when or if he'll wake up, he got himself into a nasty accident..." The doctor grimly informed her.

Though Jiwon didn't like it, she knew there was nothing more she could do for him but be there for him, day after day, night after night, she visited him.

As for Y/N, in his coma, he was having strange visions of an infant crying and voices but he couldn't make out what they were saying or what was going on.

One night, Y/N finally awoke he looked around to see he was alone in a hospital room and covered in bandages making him immobilized as his body was too injured to move at all.

"Uhhh... What happened...?" He muttered trying to gather his thoughts.

The room was dark, he looked through the small window at the door in the hallway but there was no one there and he started to feel a bit lonely.

He looked at the clock to see it was three in the morning and decided it was best to get some rest.

But Y/N's sleep was anything but peaceful as he had those bizarre dreams again and he saw a surgeon performing some kind of operation but he before he could see who he was operating on he woke up and gasped.

His spook startled Jiwon who happened to be in the room with him and her eyes widened in surprise.

"J-Jagi! You're awake!" She exclaimed with a big smile with a tear coming out of her eye.

"Y-Yeah... What happened...? Last thing I remember was a truck heading straight towards me and I just blacked out," He asked and she sighed.

"You got into an accident, the doctor was worried you wouldn't make it but you seem to be fine for now, how are you feeling? You've been out for two weeks," She checked.

"Fine I guess..." He replied and she raised an eyebrow.

"Is something wrong, my dear?" She asked me and Y/N sighed as he didn't know how to put it.

Y/N explained what he saw in his dreams as best as his ability and by the time he finished, she was dead silent and had a blank expression devoid of any emotion.

"Oh... Well, dreams are dreams, they don't mean anything... Maybe it's just a side effect of your coma," Jiwon tried to brush it off.

However, this didn't entirely convince him as he felt that his wife knew something that he didn't but he chose not to push it.

After that, the doctor checked on him and informed them that he would be released after few weeks for him to be transported onto a wheelchair.

Throughout that time, however, Y/N's time in the hospital made him uncomfortable and felt nothing but dread and a sense of emptiness and he wished he'd be discharged sooner.

One night, Y/N couldn't sleep, he was alone in the room once again but he felt like something or someone was watching him from the shadows of the room.

"W-Who's there?" He nervously called out but of course, there was no response.

Sighing as he once again thinks he was hallucinating and feeling too much on edge driving him to paranoia, he was about to go back to sleep when he spotted a shadow figure standing in the corner.

At first, Y/N rubbed his eyes making sure he wasn't seeing things but the figure was still there, standing there motionless, until suddenly, his vision blacked out and the figure was right by his bed.

"W-What are you doing here...? Who are you...?" He quivered in fear and as the figure was closer he got a better look at it and his jaw dropped.

The figure... The man standing before him... Looked exactly like him... But there was no face, just a hollow shell resembling a black hole, he noticed that parts of his body like his shoulder blade, spine, and some other parts were missing.

Y/N shivered and was too afraid to say anything, he didn't understand any of it or why the faceless man resembling him was just staring at him, not moving a single inch.

There was nothing he can do about it, he was stuck in that room, and eventually one response came to his mind.

"W-What are you...?" He nervously asked.

Although he wasn't sure he swore he heard a whisper in his ear, whatever it was... Seemed to be his answer.

"I'm sorry Misses and Mister Kim, but seeing that your son is in a dire state of need, I see no other option..."

"Are you mad?! How would you think my son would feel about this?! This whole thing is just barbaric!"

"Honey, listen to him... He's long gone and we can't lose another... Please, it's the only way..."

The whispers stopped, strangely, all of this felt familiar to him and a faint memory began to play in his head, he was in an operation room surrounded by a doctor and nurses.

He saw his passed mother and father with anxious faces and whispered to each other.

*Door opens*

Suddenly, the doors swung open, and the lights flickered on illuminating the room and temporarily blinding his vision but when his eyes adjusted to the light... The faceless man vanished without a trace like he was never there in the first place.

"Y/N! Are you okay?! We saw your heart monitor spiking!" The nurse asked urgently and checked my vitals.

I was sweating cats and dogs, I didn't know what to make of it... That strange twin and those whispers from my parents.

"I-I'm fine... Just a little paranoid is all..." Y/N assured but the nurse didn't seem entirely convinced as sleeping in a room shouldn't have been this impactful to his health.

The nurse reported this to the doctor by morning, and he grew very concerned telling the nurse to request Jiwon's presence as he had an urgent matter to speak about.

When Jiwon arrived to the hospital, the doctor explained the sudden spike in his heart rate last night and he suspected one thing...

"He's good enough to be discharged... But keep a close eye on him," The doctor instructed and Jiwon nodded.

"Yes, Appa, I will do so," Jiwon answered and promised to take time off her work.

After Y/N heard the news of his discharge, he was most relieved that he would be out of that God-forsaken room, even so, he could not stop thinking about those dreams and that faceless twin.

Y/N would often keep to himself since then, Jiwon would ask what happened that night but all he would tell was that it was a figment of his imagination.

But I wonder if Y/N is telling the truth... Don't you?

[irkimatsu]

So I've got a request that may be odd but interesting. Reader/Husk where things start off with Husk being an Overlord and Reader a lowly sinner down on their luck, but after a long period of separation (things going sour, Alastor's doing, or whatever sounds best to you) they reunite and rekindle their relationship when Husk has lost everything and is working at the hotel, and Reader has risen the ranks to become an Overlord themselves. GN Reader is fine, thanks for your time!

Oh god help me I made this one angsty. I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted!

3.2k words (help), angst with a happy ending, SFW besides the usual swearing you expect from Hazbin fics. Reader finds Husk again after a decade apart, a tearful reunion is had, oh god help me

---

You stand in the middle of a grand ballroom, with a live band playing acoustic music and food and drink as far as the eye can see. Dozens of demons fill the hall, the most influential Sinners in the Pride Ring joined by their associates and servants.

It’s not the first time you’ve been to one of these gatherings, but it’s your first time here while on the other end of the leash.

You have to admit, it’s somewhat lonely here at the top. You’re not completely alone; like everyone else here, you’ve brought along your favorite contracted soul, who has just brought you a glass of champagne and earned a pat on his head for his troubles. But as you sip your drink, you can’t help but remember something with a smile.

He’d spit this out and ask where the scotch was…

It’s so strange not having his strong arm pinning you to his side. You can still see the charming expression on his face as he speaks with another Overlord, even as his tail waves as a warning to everyone who speaks to him. You know what that tail is saying without him needing to open his mouth.

“I’ll respect you if you respect me, but if you even think about trying anything with my pet, you’re dead.”

A lot of servants here are openly fearful or disdainful of their owners, but Overlord Husk never made you feel anything less than cared for. Sure, he had needs from you, but you enjoyed fulfilling those needs, especially knowing that he’d back down if you asked. He was cocky, spoiled, and reckless, but he adored you and always made sure to show it, both to you and to anyone who dared suspect that you were only a trophy he’d happily gamble away.

Then one day, he was just… gone. You woke up in his bed in the mansion like so many other mornings, and immediately you noticed that you couldn’t feel the faint bindings of his leash around your neck. You searched the mansion for him, but instead, you found Alastor reclining in Husk’s favorite lounge chair, sipping rye from one of Husk’s own glasses.

“Husker is no longer in need of your services, my dear. You’d best be on your way.”

He wouldn’t explain things any further than that, and you never heard from Husk again. What happened to him? Why would he just leave you like that, after years of calling you his most precious treasure…?

You need to shake those thoughts from your head before you have a breakdown in the middle of the party, so you join a nearby group of Overlords you can’t identify by name, intending to nod along and pretend to participate in their conversation. They appear to be discussing that rehabilitation hotel that Lucifer’s daughter started up. You continue sipping your drink and listening, hoping they don’t notice your silence.

“I still think it’s a foolish idea…”

“They did a wonderful job fighting off those exorcists, though. Imagine, we may never have to worry about another extermination thanks to that hotel!”

“Did you see any of the battle?”

“Oh, heavens, no, I never dare leave my shelter during an extermination, and I certainly don’t want to watch such a thing on TV!”

“Well, I caught some of it on the news, and would you believe, I could have sworn I saw the Gambling Demon fighting with the rest of Charlie’s crew!”

You try your damnedest to hide your shock at that news. At the very least, you manage to avoid dropping your glass.

“The Gambling Demon! Staying at Charlie’s hotel?! Surely you’re mistaken! And here I thought Alastor had him killed!”

“Oh, he looks different to be sure. He’s gotten a lot thinner, a lot scruffier. But how many tuxedo cats with giant wings do we have flying around in Hell? It had to have been him!”

“What do you suppose he’s doing in that place? Surely that old drunk doesn’t think Heaven would ever take him?”

“What kind of people does Heaven take, anyway…?”

As the discussion drifts away from the Gambling Demon, your attention drifts away from the discussion.

You’ll need to drop by that hotel sometime soon.

—

It takes you a few days to get away for long enough to stop by the hotel. Who knew Overlord business could be so exhausting? No wonder Husk needed your help with stress relief so often. But finally, after days of wondering, you find yourself standing outside the doors of the recently rebuilt Hazbin Hotel.

Surely it was all rumors, a cruel game of telephone meant to get your hopes up before harshly striking them down. You wouldn’t find him here. Not here, of all places. As far as you know, he’s dead.

But still, you have to know…

With a deep breath, you steel your nerves and push the door open. You’ve barely stepped into the lobby when a cheerful voice starts calling out to you.

“Oh! Hey there!” A group of demons are sitting in a circle of chairs, and all of them are now staring at you. Most of them are strangers, but you do recognize the one who’s enthusiastically waving at you as Princess Charlie herself.

You also recognize the winged cat who is currently staring at you with wide eyes and mouthing something inaudible. He’s much thinner, unhealthily so, and he doesn’t appear to be taking nearly as much care of his fur as he used to… but it can’t be anyone else, can it?

“You’re just in time!” Charlie says as she launches out of her seat and runs up to you. “We were just starting today’s trust exercise! Would you like to join us? It’s a perfect way to see what the Hazbin Hotel is all about!”

She’s speaking so quickly you can barely follow her.

“Oh, right, introductions! My name’s Charlie! What’s your name?”

You tell her your name, and she squeals with glee as she takes your hand. “Come on, come sit with us! Let me introduce you to everyone! This is Angel Dust, and Niffty, and Husk…”

You don’t remember any of the names she says after Husk’s. It really is him. The instant you lock eyes with him, you can’t look away. He’s frozen stiff, only the slight twitches of his tail showing that he hasn’t turned to stone.

“...and we have plenty of open rooms! What size bed do you like? Do you smoke? I know it’s hard to quit, and we’ll help you with that, but before then I can make sure you get a room with a balcony-”

“Charlie!” A girl with long white hair laughs and grabs Charlie’s hand to pull her back down into her seat. “Calm down! I think you’re freaking them out!”

“Sorry, Vaggie, sorry!” Charlie says. “It’s just always so exciting to see a new guest!”

“I don’t think it’s Charlie’s fault,” says the pink spider sitting on Charlie’s other side. “Seems like they just got distracted by our bartender. You like him, don’tcha? I know he’s cute, but don’t try pettin’ him, he bites.”

Husk must be stunned if he’s not reacting to a joke about his cat form. You’ve seen him punch other Overlords for that.

A bartender, though… that part doesn’t surprise you at all. But why here?

“Did you want to get a room set up first?” Charlie asks you. “I can help you pick one out, then we can come do the trust exercise! Oh, I can’t wait to get to know you!”

“I’ll take care of ‘em,” Husk says as he rises to his feet with a grunt.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Husk! I can-”

“I’m the concierge here, ain’t I? Takin’ people to their room is part of my job.”

“Normally you complain when we ask you to check people in,” Vaggie says.

Husk shrugs at Vaggie’s observation as he heads toward the hotel’s bar. He grabs a box from beneath the bar and shakes it. “So, what size bed? You want a balcony?”

“Um… king?” you say, not sure if it’s an option. “Balcony is fine.”

“Mmm…” he stirs the contents of the box around with his claws for a moment, then takes out a key card and reads it. “Right, here’s one. Fifth floor.” He puts the box back where he found it, then pulls out a book and a pencil. He flips through the book for a specific page, then scribbles something inside it. 

He writes your full name perfectly, despite you not saying it directly to him.

Once that’s taken care of, the book also returns to where it came from. “C’mon.” He heads to the stairwell, and you follow.

What should you say to him? Should you say anything? Should you give him the first word? He doesn’t appear to be taking it as the two of you silently climb the stairs.

You reach the fifth floor, and your hotel room, without either of you saying a thing. “This is it.” He swipes the card and opens the door for you. “Look good?”

It’s a fully decorated room, with potted plants and wall art and a comfortable looking bed. It’s not entirely to your taste, but you can tell whoever designed it took great care with it.

“Don’t mind the art, you can replace that if you want. You might be staying for a while, so make it yours.”

“All right… thank you.”

Over a decade, and that’s all you can say to him?

You expect him to leave you to get settled in, but he keeps standing there, propping the door open. “Hey, uh… do I… know you, from somewhere?”

Your heart gives a single, heavy thud. “I think so… if you’re who I think you are.”

“Can I come in?” he asks. “Talk to you for a minute?”

“What about Charlie?” you ask.

“She’s patient,” is all he says before walking into the room. You follow him in and shut the door behind you. He’s standing in the middle of the room now, not looking at you. He seems to be at a loss of what to do with himself.

“...it’s really you,” he finally says, still facing away. “Before you said your name to Charlie, I thought… it couldn’t be…”

“Husk…” is all you can say. How long has it been since you’ve said that name? It feels so wonderful rolling off your tongue. At the sound of his name, he finally turns around to face you.

“...I missed hearing that…”

Your head is in conflict over what you should do now. Hug him and promise not to lose him again? Slap him and ask where the hell he’s been all this time? Break down crying, overwhelmed with thoughts of how you just spent the last ten years assuming he was dead?

“What happened…?” is all you can manage to say, without moving an inch.

His ears tilt down and he grumbles to himself as he grips his arms. “I didn’t want… didn’t mean… I’m sorry. He wouldn’t… I couldn’t…” he takes a deep breath. “...a lot’s happened since the last time I saw you.”

“Can you tell me about any of it?” you ask.

“Can we sit?” he asks in return. You nod in agreement, and the two of you sit on the edge of the hotel bed.

“How much do you know already?” Husk asks.

“Not much,” you say. “I went to sleep by your side one night, and then I never saw you again. That’s all.”

“Do you remember what I told you that night?” he continues.

“That you had a big meeting the next morning, but that I shouldn’t worry about it and you’d be home soon…” The gears start turning in your head. “What happened at that meeting…?”

“I lost,” Husk says. “I lost everything to Alastor. The money, the casinos, the mansion, the staff… even my own soul. A few bad hands, and that was it.” 

You once again remember seeing Alastor that day, and your hand goes up to your throat. “Did you lose me to…?”

“I didn’t lose you to anyone!” Husk insists. “I promised I’d never bet your soul, didn’t I? I didn’t bet it then, either. He didn’t want me keeping you, said a pet didn’t need a pet of his own… but there was no fucking way I was letting him have you. Letting you go before he took everything from me was the best thing I could do for you.”

“And you couldn’t tell me?” Tears are welling in your eyes. Are you relieved? Angry? Where has he been?

“He wouldn’t let me!” Husk says, defensive. “Wouldn’t even let me near any of the property I used to own! I couldn’t tell anyone from those days what happened! He wanted everyone to think he’d killed me!” He needs a few breaths to calm himself down. You barely recognize your old Overlord in his current face; he looks so lost and tired. “Believe me, I didn’t just give up. I looked for you when I could, but I didn’t know where to begin, especially when I couldn’t even get into my own casinos anymore. If I had any idea where you were, I swear I would have found you…”

If he still doesn’t know where you’ve been, then clearly he forgot to check somewhere vital. “Have you been keeping an eye on the Overlords recently?”

“Like I want anything to do with that fucking group ever again,” he spits out. “I still hate how I lost everything, but I know it’s for the best that I got out of there with some dignity intact… wait.” He sits up and stares at you. “Is that where you’ve been?”

You smile and nod. He chuckles in response and leans back on his hands.

“Heh… should’ve known you’d find another Overlord to take care of you. I just hope they’re good to you… I may not be as powerful as I once was, but I’ll still kill anyone who tries messing with you. I ain’t breaking my promises to you, not even now.”

“Husk…” you say with a shake of your head. “I’m not on anyone’s leash anymore. Not since I lost you.”

“Eh?” He raises a large, red eyebrow. “Then what are you doing, hanging around with Overlords?”

“Well… I am one now,” you said. “After you left, I had to fend for myself. I started a business, made connections with the people you used to know, and now… here I am.”

“No shit… you as an Overlord,” he says. “Not surprised you managed to climb that high, if that’s what you wanted. I just hope you’re playing fair. Not like some of the other scumbags with that title.”

You can’t help but wonder if he’s including himself in “scumbags”.

“Of course I play fair,” you say. “I learned a lot from you. It’s ruthless work, but it doesn’t mean I have to mistreat people for it.”

“Good to hear,” he says. “Good to know some people down here don’t let power completely fuck ‘em up. What kinda souls you own?”

“I try to make fair deals,” you say. “Hiring people to work in factories, using contracts to protect company secrets, that sort of thing. I think my people are happy where they are. I try to make it less awful than it could be, at least.”

“Got any pets?” Husk continues.

“Pets…? Oh.” It takes a moment for you to catch his meaning. “No, no! I’m not interested in that sort of thing. Everyone just works for the company. No personal relationships.”

“Huh… shame. Having a pet is a lot of fun. Getting to spoil ‘em, seeing ‘em smile when you’re around… pissing off other Overlords who don’t understand why their souls hate them so damn much, but your pet can’t keep their paws off of you…” He sighs and closes his eyes. “It was nice, having you by my side. I regret a lot of shit from back then… but I don’t regret having you. …at least, as long as you don’t regret it. Was I good to you back then…?”

“You were amazing,” you assure him as you lean against him. “Amazing enough that… that I can’t see myself with a pet of my own. I don’t belong on that side of the leash… and I don’t belong on anyone else’s leash, either.”

“...you know I’m washed up,” he says. “I ain’t got shit left. No money, no influence, just a damn chain around my neck forcing’ me to do the bidding of a sadistic freak who thinks I’m an animal.”

“Husk…” You can’t help but hug him tight as you hear just what he’s been going through in your time apart.

“I can’t spoil you anymore. I can’t take you to parties, I can’t buy you expensive gifts… that shit’s over now. You’re staring at… well, you’re staring at a withered old husk.”

“Can you still sing to me?” you ask. “And dance with me? Perform tricks for me?”

“I… maybe?” he says. “I’m out of practice. Haven’t had a reason to do any of that for years.”

“But could you?” you repeat.

“I mean… I’d like to… I’ve missed it.” He smiles again, his eyes staring off into the distance. “I still remember how you’d smile when I sang your favorite love songs…”

“I always loved your voice,” you say. “I still remember what you sound like when you sing. I think about it sometimes…”

“Yeah?” he says. “...I think about it too. You smiling as I’d sing to you, and… and hold you…” You’ve been waiting ever since you leaned in, but finally, his arms are wrapped around you. “And tell you that… no matter how much I lost… I’d never lose you…”

You never saw Overlord Husk cry before. Such a prideful man surely couldn’t cry. But as he rests his chin atop your head, you can hear his breathing start to hitch.

“I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you assure him as you nuzzle his neck, just the way he loved all those years ago. A purr assures you that it hasn’t changed.

“If I knew that day… that when I left, I wouldn’t be coming back… I would have stayed in just a little longer.” He rests his claw on your chin and tilts it up to look in your eyes. Now you can clearly see the tears pricking the corners of his own. “Would have at least kissed you goodbye…”

“You did kiss me goodbye,” you say. “That night, before we went to sleep, the last thing you did was kiss me…”

“...and I promised I’d be back,” he finishes. “I kissed you goodbye for a day. Not a decade.” His claws run down your face, just as gentle as ever. “Could I… do that now?”

“Don’t kiss me goodbye,” you say. “Just kiss me.”

He grants your wish, lightly placing his lips against yours. He finally lets his tears fall, but the way they stain your cheeks doesn’t make you pull away. If anything, they’re just another reminder for you that he’s here, along with his warmth in your arms and the sound of his soft moans vibrating against your lips as he keeps kissing you.

“Charlie…” you murmur. “Charlie’s waiting for us-”

“She’s patient,” he repeats as he pushes you down to the bed. “I’m sure she’ll understand me wanting some quiet time with an old friend.” He offers no further argument before resuming his kisses, and you have no further reason to protest.

“I love you, Husk,” you manage to whisper between kisses.

“I love you too, doll. Always have.”

[mandiemegatron]

ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜʟᴇꜱꜱ

Trafalgar Law x Y/N ficlet

Fluff, general care, hella smooching, slightly toasty 👀, hand massage, Law being a softie✨️💖

A/N: Something I thought up after seeing @kittycatzuka post here, it gave me the feels and this is what my brain thought up.

I hope you all enjoy! ✨️💖

Also, I just spent like an hour beta-ing it so if you see any mistakes, no you don't. 😎 okay love you my lil tangerines! ✨️💖

Header by @baka-tsuki / @baka-tsuki-2 💖

It was supposed to be a quiet night for the captain. All the man wanted to do was finish his paperwork, read some Sora and pass out into a restless sleep.

Since Y/N showed up, it never seemed to work out the way Law wanted. Every night, she'd knock on his office door to say goodnight, no matter the amount of times he tried to tell her she didn't have to, that she could just simply go to bed and he'd see her in the morning for breakfast. It never deterred her, her smiling face always popping in through the cracked door with a small wave.

This night was different.

Law glanced over at the clock on his desk, frowning to himself as he realized you were late, not showing up around the time you usually did. He then paused, curiously irritated at realizing the fact that he was worried, immediately thinking the worst had happened you.

He let his pen drop to the desk as his other hand ran through his hair, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath. God, he was exhausted.

There was a soft thunk as ceramic hit his desk, his eyes snapping open to see you placing a fresh cup of tea right above his incomplete paperwork.

"Y/N-ya."

You cracked a tired smile of your own before hiding a yawn behind your now free hand, lifting your mug in a silent cheers to him as you sat in the chair opposite his desk.

"Saw your light was on, thought maybe you could use a little something," your voice was soft as you spoke, unable to hide how tired you were from his prying eyes.

"While I appreciate it, you should be in bed already. We have a big day tomorrow," he replied, gently picking up the hot mug with a sigh through his nose. Yeah, he definitely needed this.

"So should you, dear Captain."

He huffed gently, staring you down before taking a long sip.

"I'm not done my job for the day."

You cracked a grin at the sight of him complaining, his distaste for the job showing itself very clearly.

"I can give you a hand, if that'll help?"

He hummed in disagreement into the mug, taking another sip before replying,

"You'd only make it take longer."

While there was teasing in his tone, you couldn't hide the way your grin slowly slid from your lips, your eyes glancing down at the mug in your hands. He kicked himself as a pain clutched around his chest, hating that he made you look that way.

"... I appreciate the offer, Y/N, thank you. Your company helps more than enough."

Your eyes flickered back to his at his words, your cheeks tinting pink as you murmured,

"... glad to help."

It was only for a moment but it felt like ages, the way his eyes bored into yours. It was like you were a puzzle he was trying to slove and couldn't, his frustration showing in his gaze. Your heart jumped into your throat, your mind screaming at him to just kiss you, to say something, to tell you everything you wanted him to say-

The moment broke as he went back to his scribbling, one hand around his mug while the other scratched away. You made yourself more comfortable in the large chair, your eyes wandering his face, not knowing he could feel your very hungry gaze on him.

Pride washed over him, his ego flaring as a smirk ticked up his lips. He did have a feeling you liked him, but this moment here proved to him that he was right.

"See something you like, Y/N?"

There was a heavy silence as your eyes widened, unsure of how to respond so you remained quiet, simply watching him for any signs of a joking manner.

You were incredibly confused when you could only sense a serious air around him.

It took a moment to gather courage but you did finally respond, looking down at your mug for a moment before glancing back to him as you commented lightly,

"Surely it's obvious that I do."

The air was so thick it could have been sliced with a butterknife. You both stared at each other for what felt like ages before you looked away first, unable to handle the heat of his gaze on you like this.

"... good to know."

His response caused you to grin, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you bit back a happy sound, not wanting to feed his already giant ego. A more comfortable silence covered you both as he went back to his work, now motivated to finish it quicker than before.

You'd drank your entire tea by the time he finally finished. You'd been slouched lazily in the chair, glancing around his office with mildly bored eyes, having already taken everything in to the point you could name off each book and it's order on the shelf. He yawned loudly, rubbing his face with both hands before standing, placing his completed work off to the side before coming around his desk to stand by you, leaning on it for support.

"You should get some rest," you started, giving a yawn of your own and going to move before you noticed him massaging his hand. You looked up at him, his exhausted expression filling your chest with a ache you didn't enjoy.

You had to do something.

Placing the empty mug beside him, you then reached out and gently took his writing hand into your own warm palms, you began massaging his own, your thumbs pressing down to the point where he grunted softly.

"Yeah, I know it sucks but this is what happens when you don't take proper breaks," you murmured, focusing on doing your best not to look up at him, your cheeks burning so hot that you began to worry you gave yourself a fever.

A particularly illicit groan left your Captain when you pressed at one point, your eyes finally flicking up at him for just a moment and you couldn't help but smile at seeing his relaxed expression. His eyes were shut, his chest rising and falling as he took slow, deep breaths.

Your heart clenched - you wished he looked like this more, so quiet and tender -

Your thoughts stopped as you looked back to his hand, your thumbs working down to his wrist and forearm, not noticing him leaning closer to you to give you better reach.

It took only a few minutes, letting his arm gently drop to his side as you held your hands palm up out for his other one.

"Other hand, please!"

He was silent the entire time, lifting his hand to you as you did the same thing, starting at his palm before going to his long fingers, showing them love and stretching them before moving down to his wrist and forearm.

You were so focused that you didn't noticed his free hand coming catch your chin, his long fingers lifting your face gently. Your eyes met and your stomach churned, knowing your face was still bright red as he looked over your face. Your fingers had stopped, clamped gently around his forearm.

You couldn't place the look he was giving you, trying to convince yourself that he was not giving you bedroom eyes - the man was exhausted, for fucks sake! But you couldn't help how your body warmed at his touch, wanting so desperately to lean into his touch.

The sudden fear of rejection hit you like a ton of bricks. You must have made a face because his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, almost as if trying to comfort you.

"You look worried," he breathed out, his breath so warm and so close that it danced across your face. Your eyes were locked in an intense gaze, his dark and craving; yours wide and needy in your own right. Warmth pooled in your lower region as his eyes looked down at your lips for a moment, the air suddenly heavy once again as his gaze met yours again.

"I... I am worried," you finally whispered, eyes never leaving his. He moved closer again, so slowly that it felt like he was teasing you.

"Why?"

Not a question, a demand.

"... because I'm scared that you'll kiss me and I'll get attached."

A slow, wicked grin came over his features when you finally spoke.

"As if you're not already attached."

His words felt like a punch to your gut, causing you to gasp out softly before his lips consumed yours, both your eyes falling shut as he took what he wanted. It wasn't a soft kiss, but it wasn't demanding either. It held just enough emotion that you felt the anxiety of earlier wash off you like a wave, your shoulders unconsciously dropping though your hands remained on his arm.

When he finally pulled away, you were a mess. Your heart was pounding so loud in your ears, it felt like vertigo. Your eyes slowly reopened, confusion and hope written across your face like an open book as you stared at him. You were nearly breathless as you somehow got out,

"Um... Wow."

Law blinked a few times before he broke down, laughing so loud and hysterically that he pulled away from you, leaning over with his hands on his knees. You sat there blinking, feeling even more confused, wondering what the hell was going on. His laughter echoed in the room, and probably the entire sub but clearly he was gone, absolutely fucked up.

Just straight up bonkers.

When he finally calmed, one hand came up to wipe away the laughter tears as he leaned back up, a wide smile on his face as he took a moment to collect himself.

He finally looked down at you, your own almost nervous smile etched into your face as you waited for him to explain himself.

"You, Y/N-ya, are something else, you know? How you've flipped my life upside down."

The amount of sincerity in his voice immediately made you begin to tear up, you're heart leaping from your chest into your throat and stopping you from responding. You simply gave your own genuine smile in return, one hand quickly wiping away the few tears that slipped out.

A heavy hand landed on the top of your head, long fingers rustling your hair as Law gave another chuckle. Your smile remained as your swiped at his hand, his own grin turning cheeky as he lightly slapped your hand away.

There was a pause between you two, with him running a tired hand through his hair as you rubbed at your face, biting back a yawn. As he took in your exhausted form, he knew it was time for you both to hit the hay.

"You crazy brat. Go to bed," he started, moving his hands to grasp your own and pulling you out of the chair. He turned you and walked you to the door just a few feet away, opening it but holding you to him, his hands on your shoulders. You noted they were shaking slightly through hazy thoughts as his warm chest hit your back.

"I'll see you at breakfast. Save me a seat?"

His breath brushed over your ear, causing your skin to erupt in goosebumps. He didn't give you enough time to respond, giving you a quick shove out the door before closing it behind you.

You stared at the wall of the Tang, blinking a few times before your mouth finally started working again.

"What the actual fuck just happened?"

A/N: HEHEHEE we love a sly, flirty Law 🙈🙈🙈🙈 I'm gunna smooch him so hard, idk abt you guys 😂😂🥵🥵🙈🙈 I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I did !

Smooch smooch, be good my lil tangerines! 🍊💋

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 11

God this arc just keeps getting longer and longer. Luckily after this, I should be able to move ahead with the plot? I'm a few more minutes into the episode at least!

Anyway,

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.4k

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Cassie sat next to him and bumped their shoulders. “We’ll figure this one out just like we have all the ones before.”

Conner sandwiched him on the other side. “Yep. And the Fentons don’t seem like the type to hide information. They’ll tell us everything we want to know.”

“You’re both right. We’ll fix this and be home before we know it.” Tim pulled out his phone. “I wonder if there’s any old news articles we can look up for more information. Danny told me about the first ghost attack. A ghost called Lunch Lady who used meat to attack people and was upset because Sam changed the school lunch menu.”

Bart blinked at him and sat on the coffee table facing him. “You’re making that up. You’ve gotta be.”

Tim laughed and shook his head. “Nope. We’ll have to see if he has a list of his rogues so far. They’ve all been so gimmicky. Kinda like Condiment Man in Gotham.”

At Tim’s direction, Bart and Cassie also began looking into various news articles and posts about the ghosts of Amity. Conner recorded their findings and Tim supplemented with information he’d gotten directly from Danny.

Research kept them busy for the next hour until the Fentons returned.

“Danny’s friends!” boomed Jack when he saw them.

“How are you four doing? Did you find the pantry? Enough things to eat?” asked Maddie.

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Conner. “Cassie and I also left to explore a bit and found a corner shop where we picked up a few things we knew Tim and Bart liked.”

“That’s great! Now, I see you’ve seen the news, and I don’t want you to be afraid. Jack and I are planning on training some of Danny’s classmates in ghost fighting, would you four like to join?”

Everyone looked to Tim who bit his lip in thought. “I— can we sit in on the first lesson? I’d like to see some more of your work. Danny’s told me a little bit about it, but seeing it in person is something else. But I also want to spend more time just with Danny since we haven’t met in person before.”

“Of course, honey!”

Tim had to force his smile to remain neutral at the pet name. His parents didn’t even call him ‘honey,’ let alone anyone else. “Thank you, Dr. Fenton.”

“Call me Maddie, dear.”

“And I’m Jack!”

“Yes, Dr.— er, Maddie, Jack. When will the others be here?”

Jack looked at…something on his wrist that must’ve had a clock feature and boomed, “Not for another three hours! School’s still in session, you know.”

Conner cleared his throat. “Will you need help setting up? Maybe you can tell us a bit about ghosts while we do. I’d never seen one before.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea! Thank you, sweetie!” said Maddie.

“Conner, my boy, the first thing you need to know about ghosts is that they’re evil and only want to hurt you. If you don’t remember anything else, always remember that,” added Jack.

Tim’s stomach sank at those words. Did Danny have to hear things like that every day? “How do you know they’re all evil?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Well, Tim! It’s because ghosts aren’t people. They’re post human consciousness imprinted on ectoplasm. They’re an echo of what they used to be and that echo wants to become a person again. But it can’t because it’s dead. So it lashes out at anything living around it. Either to steal their life or make the living like it.”

Maddie nodded. “Exactly. A ghost killed my best friend when we were girls. If you’d like, I can send you some papers Jackie-poo and I wrote about how ghosts form so you can have more information.”

Tim forced a smile. “That’d be great, thank you.” Could the portal be destroyed in some way? Would that keep ghosts from coming through and allow Danny to come with him to Gotham?

“Now!” said Jack. “Who wants to help me carry up supplies from the lab?”

Once again, Tim asked for some safety gear before going into the lab and Maddie shoved a white jumpsuit at him with a sticker of Jack’s face on it.

“This is one of Danny’s, dear. But he doesn’t wear them very often. Here’s another for you, Bart. It might be a bit long, but try it on and we’ll see what we can do. Cassie, Conner, you two will be a bit harder, but I think I should be able to coble something together. Hang tight a sec!”

“I guess we’ll go get changed, then,” said Bart as Maddie and Jack disappeared back downstairs to see what they had.

Tim held out the top and poked at the decal of Jack. Going to the edge, he worked a finger under the image and let out a sigh of relief when it came up. “These are removable,” he commented as he pulled it off.

“Fantastic!” said Bart, ripping his own off. “Come on, Rob. Let’s get changed.”

Upstairs in the guest room, Tim allowed himself to comment, “At least it’s not orange.”

“Everyone will know who we’re staying with, though.”

“Better than stepping foot in that lab with no protection.”

They were just finishing up when Cassie and Conner walked in with matching scowls. In their arms were a mix of orange and blue fabrics.

Cassie glared at them. “Not. A. Word.”

Tim smirked and held up his hands. “Who, me?”

Bart mimed zipping his lips.

“We’re just about finished here, though, so we’ll go help the Fentons while you two get changed,” said Tim. He couldn’t help the way his lips quirked as he looked at the clashing jumpsuit pieces as they passed each other.

Conner made sure to trip them with TTK.

Tim just smiled at him as he pushed himself up and left without another word, Bart a step behind him. The door was barely shut before they were laughing so hard they couldn’t walk down the stairs without gripping the railing.

“Good to see you boys are having fun! How do the jumpsuits fit?” asked Jack when he saw them.

Bart held up his hands to show how he’d folded the ends of the sleeves. “Not bad. Just had to roll up the sleeves and pants a little.”

Tim nodded his agreement. “Little tight in places, little loose in others. But I can move well enough.”

“Good, good! Now, want a detailed tour of the lab as we collect weapons to train Dan-o’s classmates?”

Tim didn’t have to hold back his sharp grin at that question. “Absolutely. I want to know everything.”

And Jack and Maddie were willing to share quite a lot. Conner and Cassie joined them ten minutes later, wearing jumpsuits cobbled together from spares of Jack’s and Maddie’s. Now that they weren’t rushed by trying to get out and manage an active and hostile ghost invasion, the tour of the lab was much more thorough.

Jack and Maddie were also happy to answer any questions the four had. As it looked, there was no actual organization to the lab. And in the fridge, food was stored right next to samples. The fudge hissed when Jack took out a piece to eat and Tim shuddered.

“Want one? My snookums made it! Best fudge you’ll ever eat.”

“Aww, thank you dear!” Maddie hugged Jack at his compliment and kissed his cheek.

“I— No. Thank you,” said Tim.

“Why do you have a stockade?” asked Cassie.

Tim gave her a grateful look and she winked at him.

“That’s to hold down ghosts so we can question them,” said Maddie.

“Yup! Restrain them in there and then you can use toys like this one”—Jack brandished a cat-o-nine-tails—“to force ‘em to talk!”

“Or the Fenton Prod,” added Maddie holding out what looked like an electric cattle prod. She pressed a button and the end sparked green.

Tim swallowed hard and clenched his teeth. Did everything these people make have to look so painful?

The rest of the time in the lab passed in much the same way. The four traded off who had to ask a distracting question as they were all more and more horrified by the casual cruelty displayed by Danny’s parents.

Eventually, the doorbell rang and they were able to return upstairs with armfuls of weapons. Maddie opened the door and Dash Baxter and his cronies stood there with sadistic grins.

“Dash, what a pleasant surprise to see you again,” Tim said with his own teeth bared. “I don’t think we got off on the right foot last night. I’m Tim. Danny’s told me so much about you.”

For a moment, the boy’s face showed confusion before it was wiped away with a polite smile. “He’s told us about you, too. I’m sure we’ll become great friends.”

Well fuck. Looks like the ghosts weren’t all gone after all. Tim held a hand behind his back and signaled danger to his friends. They needed to get away from here.

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Next

We've got more with Jack and Maddie here! Hope you guys like how I write them. We already know this is going to turn into bad-parents Jack and Maddie based on what's going to happen in Arc 3. (Arc 3 will be the original prompt fill and it's fall out.)

Also, I think I'm going to change some things around in previous parts. I won't edit them on Tumblr, but before they go on AO3 they'll change. Tim is going to lie to Bruce a bit more than he has so far. He'll tell Bruce that Danny is Cassie's friend so he doesn't decide to look Danny up if he gets bored.

Next chapter will have Danny and co again!

I will no longer be managing a tag list for this fic, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want to be notified of updates. I'm also want to get the first chapter transferred over to AO3, but I'm going to transfer the first arc of Ghost!Robin first.

I reblogged an ask game earlier today if anyone's curious about me. Check it out and consider sending something in!