#There is always going to be something for them to notice as my failure

[korlkorl]

YAY! i greatly enjoyed your shoujo au!!! it was amazing to read, ty for your contribution to humanity u r doing god's work frfr!!! would you be willing to write a hanahaki au for the twst second years? (preferably an angsty ending, but if you would prefer something happier, that's 100% fine with me!! i'm not picky!!) 🤭♥️

hanahaki + second years

hanahaki: a fictional disease caused by unrequited love in which you vomit blood and flower petals (flowers tend to relate to the person you) and although there is an option for treatment, you become numb to emotions. if you don’t get treatment, you die.

(I decided to add how the twst seconds years would treat the disease— will they get treatment or not?)

not very good angst warning under the cut!!!

riddle rosehearts

riddle grew up alone, mostly. every time he seeked for comfort, for company, it’ll fall apart. it would always go wrong, he’d lose everything the moment he got too greedy.

riddle still struggled to properly face trey and chen’ya after all those years, even if he got better with it. it was too embarrassing, too lame. he felt like a loser. a sore loser who deserved nothing. oh sevens, did the world have something against him?

things were looking on the bright side. he was out of his mother’s furious grip, he has more freedom than he ever did (even if he goes by strict rules) he could make as many friends as he liked and hang out with them as much as he liked.

he still preferred being private, however. he liked his friends, you included. they were more understanding of him than any other member of the school. although he’d twist and turn in bed when he thinks back to his overblot (how embarrassing of me! he thinks) he would still much prefer being with those who accepted him a long time ago.

you weren’t too big on sweets. you liked them, sure, but the more you ate the more your mouth felt itchy. knowing riddle’s sweet tooth, sometimes, you’d secretly pass your unfinished slice of cake or unfinished strawberry tart to him. riddle rosehearts, the strict, germaphobic, lowkey a dictator, heartily took it.

if it were anyone else, he’d just stare at them in disbelief. but the thought that you bit into the very sweet treat, it threw him over the moon. he’d read of indirect kisses before, in cheesy romances he read in his spare time. he doesn’t know if this is actually an indirect kiss, but don’t make fun of him, he’s still learning!

riddle has a lot of firsts, like the first time he tried that strawberry tart, or the first time he learned that playing with friends is fun, or the first time he ever overblotted, or the first time he fell in love.

you were his first love.

he turns red when alone, imagining your face and your laughter and your joy. your silly mishaps that he has no heart on lecturing you over, or your inability to understand some of the assignments. he finds all aspects of you cute— wonderful? he doesn’t know how to describe what he’d feeling, but it gets him all giddy.

he’s frustrated often, the way he started blushing violently when you ever get in close contact with him and how you always, always seem to be unaware of this. oblivion would send you to hell.

he’s been feeling quite nauseous lately, probably because of his failed attempts of clumsily sending you signals about how he feels.

it was to a point where he threw up… petals? petals…??????? oh my god, he’s throwing up petals!!!

riddle distinctively remembers reading about this during his first year, a disease of romance, love, and failure.

his heart sinks. maybe that’s why you failed to notice.

things never go his way, riddle thinks. he’s always feeling alone. every time he gets greedy for comfort, he loses it at the highest point of his life. when things are getting better, it takes turns for the worse. that’s why riddle likes to follow the rules.

by his third year, riddle’s back to being his strict, controlling prefect. except something’s different, he’s not as angry anymore.

that’s to be expected, though. ever since the surgery, riddle has never been the same.

ruggie bucchi

he has grown up to treasure everything he has.

ruggie isn’t as financially stable as others, he wasn’t lucky to be fortunate enough to get what he wants, whenever he wants.

so when he does get what he wants, ruggie makes sure to keep it close to his heart like it means everything. most of the time, it does mean everything, all of it. his life.

he hardly gives away his things (please don’t mention the kids at the slums, he’ll turn awfully shy.) and takes anything he’s given.

when you would give him the tiniest amount of food, he’d gladly snatch it from your hands and walk away snickering.

easy target for food is what you are, he thinks.

most of the time, when people give things away to him, ruggie just assumes that it’s unwanted. he’d take leftovers no problem. it’s only when you’d constantly hand things to him, always have something to give him and remember he exists, does he think you’re odd. I mean, he’s fine with taking the forgotten leftovers, but what could he possibly do when you don’t forget him?

watch ruggie clumsily fiddle around with his fingers, scanning the area for your presence. he has learned to not worry, as you always manage to come find him everyday without fail. he feels noticed.

he starts to crave for that attention.

ruggie treasures things. he keeps them close in his heart very carefully. but what would he do when you steal his heart instead? where can he hide all the things that mean everything to him?

somehow, he doesn’t mind. he wants you to see him more, ruggie bucchi, his true self.

the crave he has for you is for some odd reason, unmet. you’re oblivious to his shy antics, the way his ears turn flat when you walk away or the way he holds onto the hem of your shirt just for a second longer.

notice him.

notice him.

notice him.

when you see the way he unconsciously covers his mouth whenever you meet eyes with him, or the how he’s constantly going to the infirmary, will you finally notice him?

there’s a trail of your favourite flowers.

ruggie bucchi keeps all the special things close to his heart. when you take his heart away, how else can he express his pathetic, unrequited love? by coughing up a disease ruggie would’ve called embarrassing and shameful if it weren’t for you.

azul ashengrotto

azul is sensitive. he notices things way too easily. the tiny, insignificant details of someone and how they react, he will notice. that is how azul finds out how a person truly feels about him.

even if azul and that other person were considered close friends, azul would still notice the tiny little details that make him unlikable to them even just a little. it’s been a habit for as long as he could remember.

everyone always had something they disliked about azul. it was fine with him, that was normal. everyone dislikes everyone about anything. it’s not like it deters long lasting relationships. azul shrugs it off, it doesn’t bother him. it’s comforting, even, knowing what people think about him.

so it was obvious to say it was near-horrid when no matter how much time azul spent time with you, he could not spot anything off about you, anything that said you didn’t like him.

as much as azul notices how people act around him, he also notices other people. he knows all their flaws, their good sides and their bad sides. even if he couldn’t read your thoughts about him at all, he still expected to see something out of the norm about you, a bad trait, something that made you human.

to him, you had none.

were you god? how come you were near-perfect in his eyes? during cold months, the tips of your nose and ears would flush pink like a cute plum while azul turned embarrassingly red. he thought it was ugly and didn’t make him look good, but there nothing to prove that you thought the same. he couldn’t tell anything about you at all.

you were like a confusing puzzle piece to him. unsolvable, unreadable, flawless. perfect.

it took a while to adjust, but his unwavering respect for you turned into wavering thumps of his heart and dodging eyes. maybe you weren’t perfect after all, maybe azul just likes you.

the terrible urge to impress you grew stronger everyday.

he wanted to look as perfect as you did to him.

but how can he possibly ever look perfect,

when he is sick?

hovered over the toilet, azul clutched his chest as petals slid out of his mouth as if it were apart of him. well, it is apart of him, I guess. his love for you is one with him after all.

azul is sensitive, but he tries not to show it. not only is he good at catching the little things, he’s quick to anger or get hurt. the best he can do is hide them. so he hides the feeble emotion he calls love and comes back after winter break just as the same. he’s dutiful and runs his business like he normally would, and still hangs out with you time to time. he just feels more… empty? you’ll never know why he seems to be this way, no one really knows about the surgery.

jade leech

jade is often avoided by many people.

people find him creepy, odd, off-putting, unnerving… and more comments he hasn’t bothered to find out about.

those names don’t really bother him. in fact, he enjoys it. he loves watching people squirm in fear over something he says out of the blue. It’s exciting to watch a person try to decide if they should run away or not, unaware of jade’s capabilities.

he’s used to people avoiding him. for the sacrifice of entertainment, he isn’t all that popular. jade leech is used to it.

you were different, however.

your simply didn’t find him creepy. anything he said that was weird, you’d laugh it off and say something weird back too. jade’s height, creepy smile or the way he talks, it doesn’t seem to throw you off at all. you’d smile and wave at him when no one else dared to, you’d easily graze your skin against his and pay no mind, you’d approach him without second thoughts. It was like mutual trust, something jade has learned is difficult to find when you’re him.

so you meant everything. you were just as new and exciting, a pleasant surprise from the predicted fear everyone else has. you made him feel… seen for the first time in his life.

soon, everything you did was like a horror movie (weird analogy, I know. but it’s jade leech we’re talking about!) the intensity of when the killer would approach, or when the character is alone and vulnerable, his heart pumps like wildfire as he watches expectantly to see what the new surprise would be. his favourite feeling was when the victim would die or escape, the tightening in his chest releasing as he excitedly watches what would happen next. that was you. you were his favourite feeling.

he loves the way your eyebrows moved in expression when you talked, he loved when you sneezed and looked around expecting a “bless you,” he loved the odd ways you attempted to hold your mug comfortably and most of all, he loved you. he love you very, very much.

jade leech is used to all kinds of things. he’s used to people avoiding him, he’s used to his brother’s tendencies to groan and complain at everything, he’s used to azul’s creepy capitalist tactics.

what he’s not used to, however, are the bubbly, excited emotions he feels when he gets to experiment with his beloved mushrooms, the way you took over his thoughts like the plague and most of all, he wasn’t used to the flowers spilling out of his mouth.

this was odd, per say. jade knew of the hanahaki disease. he knew of all the downsides of it. but he never worried, because, how could he, jade fucking leech, ever love someone so pathetically?

he hoped that you’d love him back too. he oh-so deeply wished he was just as new and exciting to you as you were to him.

the blood meticulously dripped amongst his fingers, flower petals sticking to it alike. he laughed at himself. he’s always imagined that if he’d ever possibly get this disease, it’ll be flowers related to the water like lotuses or water lilies. he never thought he’d start coughing up such pathetic land-dweller flowers.

it was fine, though. jade would get used to it, eventually.

because after all, he’d rather die than stop loving you.

floyd leech

floyd is scary, he knows that. He’s quick to anger, moody, tall and intimidating. He’s doesn’t really care, though. He just does what he wants. He doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal.

he likes fun surprises, something new, exciting. he thinks you meet that of that.

you’re not as scared as others, you respond to his pranks and squeezes positively, you respect his mood swings and he even caught a few glimpses of you defending him. he thinks you’re so cute!

it’s not odd to talk about the leech twins without mentioning you. floyd follows you every and jade just goes wherever floyd goes. it’s like a little trio.

you don’t get scared like others when he gets upset, return his squeezes (hesitatingly…he hugs tight!) and find him rather silly than scary.

jade thinks you were almost made for floyd, considering how well you two get along. although jade has been with floyd the longest, he can only tolerate to a certain point for you, however, it seemed to go endless. you were so much more patient with floyd then with anyone else. although floyd made be subtle about it, he’s grateful.

floyd adored you. you were everything he loves, for he loves you.

loved you.

loved? (love)

floyd started to ignore you. you’d tilt your head in confusion— you were upset. why would your best friend suddenly act like you weren’t even there? he wouldn’t even get mad, he’d just turn the other way.

it was only so long ago when floyd was hunched over in his bed from a terrible stomach ache. jade was horribly surprised to see bloody petals staining floyd’s bedsheets.

floyd never bothered with these things. for the first time in a while, he read a book out of his own volition to figure out what it was, only to rip the pages apart when he read what hanahaki was.

childishly declaring that he loves you no more, floyd would stay away from you like the plague, whilst secretly filling his system with flowers that will kill him for ever loving someone so deeply.

floyd is gonna disappear from your life completely eventually. you’d wonder what caused your best friend to suddenly hate you, while his family mourns over the loss of a loved one, as floyd refused treatment, because he foolishly decided to love you.

kalim al-asim

kalim grew up very sheltered in a loving family. The only concept of love he has is of his parents, who hold hands tightly and gush over the cutest things. they often warn him of the danger of love, and that he must be careful about the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

kalim, although clumsy and stupid, always kept that in the back of his mind.

you were like a breath of fresh morning air. growing up knowing very little, you were the newest, most brightest experience there was. kalim was sure you were the one. he was completely sure, why else would his heart thump so fast?

he’d hug you and hold your hand, give you gifts you could never even imagine having and tell you how much he appreciates you.

kalim hasn’t gone around to mouthing the word “love” yet, but he knows that you know anyway.

so when he started coughing up petals, jamil was quick to inform the al-asim family. kalim was confused, he didn’t understand. this love wasn’t unrequited, there was no way!

it doesn’t matter, though. he’s gonna continue loving you, you and him are gonna be happy together someday, eventually. maybe not in this universe.

kalim woke up in a hospital bed, his heart heavy.

he loves you. but he forgot what that feels like. he loved you. somehow.

jamil viper

jamil is smart. he’s smart and knows his worth. this is why he hates being in second, he knows he deserves so much more.

why does he always to have do worse than kalim? why does he always have to be second place? jamil is smart enough to know his potential. he also knows how much he’s holding himself back for the sake of hierarchy. he hates it.

it’s not a surprise when jamil finds himself unconsciously doing slower than certain people to appear normal. his main purpose in life is to not stand out, hide in the shadows, survive. like predator hiding from prey because if found, it will be caught by the silly humans.

you’re completely different from him, though. you’re as normal as a person can be, yet you aim to reach for the stars and hold it close to your heart. jamil understands your desire to outshine people all to well. he’s been in that spot, is in that spot. he pities you.

so he sticks around. he’d casually follow you, hang out whenever he can, help you with assignments so you can be the best version of yourself. he’s voraciously living through you. if you achieve your goals, that’s enough for him. at least he was apart of something meaningful for once.

it catches him off guard, however, when you encourage him to reach for his goals as well. it’s like you’re holding his hand and pull him amongst the galaxies to gently place your hands onto the hot touch of a star.

he knows that’s near impossible to reach, from the moment he was born, his life was chosen for him. but he thinks he could reach the small goals.

jamil secretly pats himself on the back for grazing against your skin for a second longer than usual, treat you to a nice meal or help you ace a test. he hopes that at least one of the goals he could reach in this lifetime is to be with you.

jamil is smart enough to know that he’s not just sick. not when blood trails down his chin to his arms, as flowers spill from inside him.

he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could have something for himself for once. not hold himself back, grasp tightly to what he wants the most.

jamil is smart enough to know his own worth. he’s definitely not worth enough to you.

silver

silver likes the little things. he enjoys the way birds chirp in the early morning, or the way the dandelion petals flow against the wind as he watches you scrunch your nose and blow on it. and then both of you guys start sneezing. ah, summer pollen, a reminiscent part of nature.

he loves the way you hold your pencil, the way you like to tie your shoelaces, how you cut your sandwiches. these small, unnoticeable traits catch his eye quite often, and he’s developed a fondness for them.

he’s a man of little words. silver doesn’t talk much, so when he thinks of these things, he never says it out loud. maybe that’s why it took you so long to notice how he felt about you.

he was so calming, and so gentle, it tugged at your heart when he’d smile softly and tilt his head ever so slightly so the cute birds could carefully place a beautiful flower crown on his head. he’s so princely, you think. a perfect knight in shining armour, loved even by the nature.

often you’d tell him how lucky any girl would be to be loved by him. your comments made silver hopeful.

silver is a man of little words, he likes to spend his days watching rather than showing. when he does finally speak his true thoughts, he genuine, honest. his words roll off his tongue so easily and smoothly, perfect fit for such a princely man (as you call him)

so when silver does finally open his mouth to speak, talk, say of what he felt in that very moment, he throat closed up. maybe he was nervous, maybe he was lame, because to both of your guy’s horror, blood spilled.

he didn’t really know what was happening. only when he felt the urge to throw up in the infirmary did he realize what was going on.

he was familiar with hanahaki. his father always told him stories of how fae would love so strongly to humans who hated them, that those who were unlucky would be induced to vomiting flowers.

when silver thought he was fae, just like his sweet old father, silver swore to himself that he’ll never love a human. now that he knows that he is, in fact, human, silver starts to doubt himself. maybe is, in a way, a fae.

it’s alright, though. silver is man of few words. he likes to watch rather than show. he doesn’t mind what could happen to him, he won’t tell anyone. he’ll just watch you from afar, filling his heart with melancholy love until he reaches his end. which might be soon, for he loves you so strongly.

a.n: my phone is on 6% as I type this I will edit this tomorrow morning when I wake up. sorry for replying so late I had tests coming up and I had to study!!! </3 thank you so much for the kind comments and I’ll catch up to requests soon! feel free leave any requests :3

[sweetdreamspootypie]

Trying to take and enjoy the opportunity to achieve an adulting milestone goal of mine

But being confronted by the fact that doing so inherently involves my parents are participants and witnesses so regardless of how much or little I try or care, the only guarantee is criticism, with anything I'm proud of going entirely unnoticed and disregarded as unimportant

So

Hard to muster the motivation for the effort

When the internal voice is just "why bother, nobody gives a shit" (except me) (so why put myself in that position) (because the point of the goal is to move beyond the past limitations imposed by my parents) (growth is a really annoying process) (hey at least I know H's mum will say something nice)

[velvetures]

Got Me Snoring

A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/König cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.

“All I’m sayin’ is that if she calls again, I’m not about to answer.” Soap’s voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.

After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldn’t help but shoot him a questioning look. They’d been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully they’d not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.

“What about you, huh?” Gaz was the one to poke a little. “Have any horror stories from the bedroom?” His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.

“I’ve faked it plenty of times.” You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.

You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Who’d apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.

Soap complained more about the one night he’d met up with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldn’t get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldn’t imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since you’d never heard it; Detailing just how she’d been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.

She couldn’t stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.

Then there was Ghost.

He didn’t have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people they’d met over the years and how they either felt they’d left their mark… or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.

“I don’t like someone blowin’ my cock,” his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. “Never cared much for it when half doesn’t fit.”

You couldn’t help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. “Wait a second… You mean to tell me you don’t like getting head because you're too big?” The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didn’t truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didn’t like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if he’d give you one.

The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. “Yeah, ‘bout always puts me to sleep.”

It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him he’d never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didn’t seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit… jealous rose inside of you at the thought.

Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didn’t necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved past… professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.

About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.

“Finished talking about chasin’ tail yet?” He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. “Wanna go to fuckin’ sleep.”

He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when he’d be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didn’t lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didn’t care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.

The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost might’ve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you weren’t the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.

Leaves no trace behind… He’d explained without prompting one night after noticing that you’d been watching him.

“Followin’ me now?” His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.

“Couldn’t let you freeze to death alone.” You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.

By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a hit, but it was the first time you’d ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, you’re a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.

“You didn’t come out here to be cold,” He finally broke the silence. “What’d you really want from me?”

No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.

“Were you lying earlier?” Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.

“Why would it matter?”

You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer… you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.

“Asked you a question. I’m expectin’ an answer.” He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.

“If you weren’t lying…” You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. “I’d like to try and change your mind.”

A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.

“You’re jokin’,” His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. “Why would I let you do that?” You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.

“Never mind.” You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.

Yet five steps away from Ghost, you’re stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.

“Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me,” His low growl makes you shiver. “I’m not finished with ya.”

In an instant, you’re spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghost’s chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghost’s as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.

“Now I’ve got you pacified…” His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. “Let’s continue shall we?” The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.

“Why don’t you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe… I won’t punish you for talkin’ shit to your superior officer.” He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.

“Sorry Lieutenant…” You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. “Thought I could do better.” You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.

“What was that?” He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. “Say it again.”

You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.

“Thought I could do better.” You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.

“Better, huh?” Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. “That’s a lot of confidence for someone so small.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Size has nothing to do with it.”

Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You can’t miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.

“Still think size doesn’t matter, little one?” He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.

Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghost’s cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldn’t have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.

Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. “That’s what I thought…”

It’s enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.

“I can do it,” You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghost’s dick and earning a lusty growl from him. “I can make it good. I’ll make it fit.” You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghost’s eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.

“You want it, huh?” He questions, mask moving like he’s grinning under it.

“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”

The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.

“My belt.” Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.

You’re frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghost’s hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.

“Fuck…” Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.

Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldn’t wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghost’s. You're certain it’s enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.

When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time he’s unable to hold back some sound.

“Shit-” He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.

He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure you’d been giving before his eyes meet yours again and they’re downright hungry and raging with fury that you’d brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.

“You look pretty like this…” He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. “You hungry for more?” You’re sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghost’s dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.

“Let me feed it to ya,” He grunts. “Shove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..” He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.

You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. He’s thick enough to qualify as the largest you’ve ever experienced, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about whether he’ll be able to fit. You know he’ll make it fit if nothing else.

And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.

“Bloody, fuucckk yes…” His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But he’s only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.

“So tight… doggin’ me right where anyone can see.”

It’s the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.

You’re about to tell Ghost… something. But you instantly lose thought of it when he’s bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and it’s almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before he’s standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.

“Please.” You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick there’s so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.

“Open up, little one…” Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed he’d allow you just one glimpse at the mouth you’d just tasted. “Need to have more of you.” You’re totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.

Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You would’ve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.

“Let me - Wanna…” His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.

“P-patience…” His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. “Don’t - don’t wanna finish in your mouth…”. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.

You couldn’t believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadn’t been lying and head never impressed him, there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasn’t down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.

“No, finish.” It’s the most demanding and certain you’ve sounded all night. “Finish in my mouth, Ghost.”

His eyes say it all.

They’re wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking filthy…” He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.

Bring Ghost to his knees.

It’s a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.

Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.

As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghost’s cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you he’d just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.

Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act you’d ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.

“Want to taste,” He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.

“Need to taste me inside your mouth.” He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.

You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air you’d gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.

“You’re too cold to be out here like this.” He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. “Not gonna let you freeze after that.” He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.

He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize he’d won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldn’t care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghost’s shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.

Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Price’s bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed he’d been keen to claim as his own right when you’d arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized you’d gotten a lot more than you bargained for.

Sure you might’ve changed Ghost’s mind about getting head… but you weren’t finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.

“I’ve made a decision,” He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.

“You’re mine now.”

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

[lewisvinga]

chemtrails over the country club | max verstappen x fem! reader

summary; nobody’s son and nobody’s daughter finally find peace with each other after the toughness of their childhood.

warnings; mentions of abusive parents, drinking, yelling

note; i play this song 10x a day tbh

word count; 953

taglist; @namgification

‘born to die’ series masterlist

f1 masterlist !

It was no secret that Max Verstappen didn’t have a normal childhood.

On top of spending his childhood karting, his father was tough. He often never let young Max have fun or play football on Sundays, young Max had to spend all his time racing no matter the conditions.

He was a ticking time bomb. If he didn’t win a race, people made sure to steer clear of him. He had a short temper.

13 year old Max felt his heart stop for a second as he realized he finished 4th. Not even on the podium. He could already see the angry face of his father and his loud voice as he made its way out of the kart.

His fathers voice sounded like a snake hissing. It intimidated young Max. His father kept a tight grip on his shoulder that he was sure would bruise. He glances up at his father for him to say something, anything.

But all 13 year old Max received was a few words that broke his heart. “You’re not my son. You’re not a Verstappen with that 4th.”

It was no secret that Max earned the nickname ‘Mad Max’ as a result from his childhood. With the way his face turns red and the curses slips from his mouth, nobody wanted to be around when he’s angry.

So it was a shocker when people found out who he was dating. A walking ball of sunshine dressed in pink bows and white lace, y/n was the only one to tame ‘Mad Max’. With her, Max didn’t seem to have to worry about disappointing her. She was always proud of him and she made sure he knew.

However, Y/n wasn’t always the ball of sunshine. Just like Max, she grew up with a toxic parent but it was her mother.

Being the oldest of 3, it meant it was up to her to take care of her siblings meanwhile her mother disappeared on Fridays just to come back black out drunk on Sunday nights. Having her childhood stripped from her made her into the bubbly person she was. Yet, her mother was still strict with her during her studies. Anything else but an A+ meant failure.

Y/n felt herself shake from fear as she walked down the sidewalk after stepping off the bus. In her backpack was a history exam with the letter B written in red. Her younger brother and sister ran in front of her with wide smiles while retelling their day in school.

Y/n’s eyes widened as she saw her mother standing at the front door. She knew that she had to give her the exam. Her siblings ran inside to their rooms to play with their toys while she stayed by the front door. With shaking hands, she pulls out the exam for her mother.

She could already smell the alcohol from her mother's mouth as she let out a deep sigh. “You’re not my daughter. My daughter wouldn’t cause me such disappointment.”

Their bond of having a tough childhood was what brought them together. They often spent nights sharing stories and relating to each other's experiences. With Max, she was able to let loose and enjoy herself.

There were moments when their past still affected them, much like during a snow day.

Y/n and Max were wearing big coats, tough boots, warm gloves, and everything else needed for a snow day. They sat on the steps of the front porch of the local country club they were a part of, watching the kids of other members laugh and play, something neither got to do.

“Max, let’s go take a walk around.” She suggested since it was the closest to being able to play in the snow in her mind.

The Dutch happily agreed and started ranting her about something as they made their way down the driveway. Y/n kept focusing on him and the crunch of the snow beneath her black boots. A small smile crept up her lips as she noticed her boyfriend was still distracted. She pauses for a second and he continues to walk and rant.

“And then, I said-“ Max pauses, noticing the lack of Y/n presence. “Liefje?” He questions and turns around to face her. Suddenly, his cheek was met with something cold.

Y/n lets out a gasp. “That was supposed to hit your back!” She exclaims with wide eyes and a frown. “I’m sorry! I meant to hit your back then you-“ She was so distracted with rambling, that she didn’t notice him pack some snow into a ball.

Mid-ramble, she felt the ball hit her scarf-covered neck. Her previous frown quickly turned into a smile. Immediately both of them started to create snowballs and throw them at each other.

She suddenly sees him charging towards her. She lets out a squeal as she runs away. She ran around the snowy fields, not caring if the other adults were staring at them due to their childish behavior.

Suddenly, Max jumps in front of her and causes both of them to fall to the ground. She pushes him off of herself and he rolls to the side. They were both lying on their backs, taking deep breaths between laughter.

“Max, look,” Y/n says, pointing at a white line in the sky that was led by a small dot. It was a chemtrail, signifying that there was a plane. “Surprised people are traveling now.”

“Yeah, that’s ’cause it’s now snowing anymore.” He explains, keeping his eye on the white line.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they lay in the pillowy white snow. They were once nobody’s son and nobody’s daughter. But now, Max and Y/n found the comfort they wanted in their lives as they lay in the snow, watching the chemtrails over the country club.

[moon-rivr]

crazy scientist!miguel smut and you’re his experiment 👀

(i mixed the request with ‘stressed out miguel accidentally overdosed himself with the spider injection thing and calls for spider readers help.’ so i hope you both don’t mind :p)

greatest accomplishment

pairing: miguel o’hara x spider!fem reader

contents: substance abuse (?), smut, oral (f and m receiving), face fucking, unprotected p in v, ice play, mirror sex, spanking, biting, web bondage, male masturbation, fingering (sorry if i missed anything 🫣)

author’s note: thank you for being so patient, i hope you enjoy <33

word count: 3.9K+

You were what Miguel considered his greatest achievement and his greatest failure. during his time at Alchemax, he'd worked on several human trials with few of them showing any signs of success. At most, he managed to regenerate lost limbs but the achievement still felt little to what he believed he could do. that was, until you showed up at Alchemax with glossy eyes and anticipation.

You had been used as a weapon in private government affairs until eventually the operation shut down. While everybody involved had some kind of direction in their life, you didn't know that anything existed beyond fighting or living to serve the purpose of someone else. You'd signed up for the human trials that Alchemax was offering, being aware of all the stakes at hand, in hopes of being able to lead a normal life.

"So, you basically have spider-like abilities that are in the control of someone else and you want me to change your DNA?" Miguel asked, pushing his glasses back up as he looked up at you from the clipboard. "Well, I know that ai can't really get rid of the powers, but I was hoping that maybe you could help make them my own. because even as we're sitting here, I still feel that urge to need to protect," you responded, hoping that he'd be a little sympathetic towards your situation.

While Miguel didn't feel anything towards your situation, he did feel a thrill of doing something more than regenerating lost limbs. He didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt towards using you to fulfill his personal desires. "Alright, well I can't really promise that the operation's going to be successful. Are you okay with those odds?" He inquired before the two of you got started, calling in a nurse to take your vitals and do your blood work. "Sounds good."

The operation had gone successfully, much to Miguel’s disbelief and he felt that thrill rushing towards him again. The excitement of being a geneticist once more. You enveloped your arms around him, your superhuman strength threatening to pop his eyes out of the sockets.

"Thank you," you whispered, though you felt the words couldn't convey how grateful you were at the opportunity Miguel had given you. He tapped on your arm, forcing you to let him go before he fixed up his jacket. "Thank you," he muttered after you left, completely fascinated as he looked through your file.

A couple of years had passed when you got a phone call from a strange number, excitement coursing through your veins as you answered. Though you'd had the desire to live out a civilian life, a part of you would always long for being able to use your abilities. "Hello?" You asked, hearing someone's breath on the other side. "It's Miguel, I'm not too sure if you remember me. Can you meet me at my place? I'll send you the details," he spoke quickly before he hung up, leaving you confused as you looked down at your phone.

You opened the door to miguel's penthouse, noticing that the curtains were all pulled to darken up the room. You sat down on the couch, deciding to wait for him to come out to talk. "Would you like a glass of water?" A yellow hued hologram woman appeared in front of you, pushing her heart shaped glasses up her nose. "No, but thank you," you responded, watching her as she faded away. You looked up when Miguel came into view, sweatpants hanging low on his waist.

"Sorry, I know you wanted to escape fighting when you came to see me last time but I'm starting up this society for spider people," he spoke up, sitting on the couch next to you. "Spider people? Does that include you?" You inquired, looking over at him as you noticed how much he changed throughout the years. He'd bulked up immensely, his biceps almost the size of your head and his eyes almost had a red hue to it. "It does, but that's not the point here. I'm asking if you want to help me," he responded, keeping eye contact with you.

You'd felt immensely grateful towards Miguel for allowing you to take control of your life once more so you'd agreed on joining him. Despite the fact that Miguel seemed to easily irritated, he helped you out in using your abilities for good this time around. While you were skilled at harnessing your abilities, you'd only used them to inflict pain on others. He helped you establish a good workout routine without pushing you too hard past your limitations.

The days had started to blend together for Miguel, losing all concept of time. Anomaly reports hadn't stopped coming in and spiders were currently working on overtime to be able to control the damage. His eyes were bloodshot as he looked at the monitors, dark circles under his eyes with only coffee to fuel his body. He grabbed his mug from the table, filling it up with some coffee he'd made three days ago? Maybe four. The cold coffee provided no taste as he sipped it, but it did provide him with the caffeine rush he needed.

His eyes drifted over to the collection of empty vials he had on the corner of his desk, having used most of the drug he'd created throughout this week. He deactivated the shoulder part of his suit, the green liquid providing him with the strength that he needed to continue staying up. His eyes strained as he returned his attention back to the monitor, the brightness hurting his dry eyes.

As the anomaly reports started to die down, he overheard through some of the speakers at the society about what the spiders were planning to do after work. He turned on the cameras, instantly spotting you talking to one of the spider-women and decided to listen in on the conversation. He felt his right eye start to twitch and his fist clench up as he heard you mention going out on a date tonight, immediately turning off the camera.

He grabbed the monitor like he wanted to crucify it for your actions, tossing it on the ground as he stomped on it. "You know, half our budget goes to replacing shit you break. Soon enough, we'll just be working with broken computers," LYLA spoke up, appearing in front of him as she folded her arms. "Like we'll ever go bankrupt," he mumbled, picking up the scraps of the monitor. "What's got you all pissed off now?"

Miguel ignored LYLA, eyeing the last bit of the serum that he had left. He was starting to feel his body want to submit to humanly desires such as sleeping and eating, but he genuinely believed that he didn't have any time to spare towards those things. He grabbed the last vial and headed toward the chemical lab at HQ, looking over what he could mix it with. He wanted to make the mixture more potent, something that would keep him up and keep him strong for a long time.

He mixed a couple of chemicals that looked like they would work, the mixture turning a bright purple. Normally, he would've been more cautious about mixing things he wasn't sure of but he felt like a junkie desperate to have his next fix. He deactivated the shoulder part of his suit once more, injecting himself with the strange liquid. He was expecting to feel that instant bit of relief like he did with the original serum, but he didn't feel like it did anything. Miguel let out a loud scream, pissed off at himself for messing up the mixture so much that it didn't have any effect.

A couple minutes later passed by when he felt sweat dribbling on his forehead though the temperature in the room had seemed to drop a couple degrees. He gripped the corner of the table as he coughed, his body rejecting the modified version of the serum. His head began pounding and suddenly, everything was too bright and everything was too loud. He hastily opened up a portal to his house, unwilling to stay at HQ where anybody would just come in and find him in that state.

He laid down on the ground as he stepped out of the portal, bile building up in the back of his throat. He brought his hand closer to his face, the limb feeling like deadweight as he scrolled through his watch. He texted you to meet him at his house urgently, his text morphing into one word. He knew that you were out on your date even in his drug-infused state, but he wanted you to pick him instead of your stupid date. He told himself that allowing you to work on the antidote would provide you with experience your college wouldn't give you, but he just wanted your company.

Miguel’s lids were starting to shut when you arrived at his house and you shook him awake, helping him up to his feet. "Stay awake for me, please," you spoke softly, seeing the pained expression on his face as you helped him to the couch. He pointed to a couple empty flasks with labels on them and you rushed to get them so you'd have an idea of what you needed for the antidote. "I'll lead you the lab," his speech slurred as he talked and you had to offer him some kind of support as you walked with him.

"What are you doing here, anyways? Thought you had a date," he mumbled, his brows furrowed as he unlocked the door. "He didn't show up," you simply said, walking with him inside as you looked over at the multiple shelves filled with chemicals. Truth was, you'd cancelled on the date because you didn't think it would make you happy. You weren't sure when, but in the midst of all the gratitude you felt towards Miguel, you'd started to catch some feelings for him. He was easy to like despite his attitude, he was protective of those he cared about and would do anything for them.

"You could've called one of the more experienced spiders for this, so why'd you call me?" You inquired as you read over the labels on the flasks. "I wanted you to be here. Plus, i figured you'd get some hands on experience," he responded, his speech still coming up garbled. You mixed up a concoction of chemicals, whispering a silent prayer that it would work as the colors began to blend together.

You injected the drug into miguel's shoulder, still exposed from the last batch he'd taken as you watched intently for any more adverse reactions. You watched as his body slumped with relief, the color returning back to his face as his eyes opened. "Thank you," he muttered, standing up from his chair. You nodded, picking up your jacket as you got ready to leave. "Don't go yet, I still have some ways to express my gratitude towards you."

You were unsure of what he meant by that but when you turned around, his lips were already on yours. "Tell me you don't want this and I'll drop it. We can go back to just being coworkers," he mumbled, pulling back slightly to give you enough space to leave if you wanted to. You stayed in your place, wrapping your arms around his neck as you returned the hasty kisses he was giving you. His lips enveloped yours in a thirsty way, almost like he needed this to live. It morphed into a clash of teeth and tongue as he explored every inch of your mouth, letting out a soft moan at the taste.

He picked you up, placing you on one the lab tables before restricting all movement with his webs. Though he knew that you could easily break through them, he found himself needing to be in control of the situation. He glanced over at the mini-fridge in the corner of the room, getting a bucket of ice before placing it to the side. His talons unsheathed and in one swift motion, he'd ripped the dress you were wearing in half. The tattered pieces scattered to the ground, leaving you in just your lingerie at his mercy.

He held one of the ice cubes between his front teeth, dragging it across your skin as he made his way down from your neck. He loved seeing the way your body fidgeted under the cold substance, his tongue lapping up the small water droplets. Your nipples hardened as he rubbed the ice cube on them, his tongue swirling against your areola. You whined at him to keep going but he pulled back, stopping his movements. You were nervous that you'd scared him off but he tore your panties off, shoving them in your mouth.

"Don't think for a second that this is for you. It's all for me, understood?" He told you, his hand resting on your thigh as he spoke. You nodded rapidly, arousal leaking to the lab table as you waited for his next movements. He brought the ice cube back to your breasts, the difference in temperature between his tongue and ice cube having you shiver. When the cube melted, he picked up another one and dragged it across to your pussy, swirling the cube on your clit. Your hips bucked up to get more of the sensation but your body couldn't help but want to squirm away at how good it felt.

The ice cube melted, the water droplets combining with your slick as it made a mess on the table. His tongue began to collect the slick on your folds, his eyes intently on yours. The small muffled whimpers that you were letting out spurred him to keep going, his tongue thrusting inside your pussy while your walls clenched around it. He let out a small moan as you released more slick, the taste of you threatening to take him over the edge. His fingers took place instead of his mouth as he kissed on your thigh, sucking on the skin to leave his mark behind.

You let out a muffled yelp as he bit down, the sting from his fangs overwhelming your senses. You couldn't help the arousal that leaked out of you at the sensation, the pain mixing in with the pleasure of having his fingers stretching you out. He moved his fingers in a scissoring action to stretch out your walls, his mouth still kissing your thigh. You heard some moaning coming from Miguel, looking down to see that his hand was tightly wrapped around his cock while precum leaked onto his palm.

Just the fact that he found getting you off as a turn on made your mind grow hazy, your toes curling as his mouth circled over your clit. His tongue swirled against it, his fingers curled up to hit your g-spot. He let out another moan, the vibration hitting your clit directly and you couldn't help but clench around him even more. His fingers were hardly moving with how hard you were gripping them, arousal coating them knuckle deep as his teeth gently pulled on your clit.

He looked up at you, desperation evident in his eyes despite the dominant presence he was putting on and your orgasm approached you quickly. You moaned into the cloth, the sound coming out muffled as your release coated his fingers completely. He took them out, his mouth closing around his fingers while he sucked them off. You looked down at his cock, the tip angry red as it dripped precum onto the glass floor of the lab.

Your head was tilted to the side, immediately at eye level with his cock while he reached down to take out the makeshift gag. You opened up your mouth, the tip of his cock inside of your mouth as you swirled your tongue around it. You collected the precum leaking out as he began to thrust his hips, using your mouth at his disposal. "Who would've known you liked to be treated like such a slut? Pinche puta," he spoke, his voice coming out with a small groan as your eyes watered when he pushed further inside of you.

Your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take the length and girth of his cock but you felt tears forming at your waterline from the intrusion. His hips snapped forward, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and you couldn't help but gag as your nose hit his pubic bone. "You're all good, don't worry. You're taking it so well. Esa boquita esta haciendo tan buen trabajo," he mumbled, feeling your tongue running down the sides of his cock. (that mouth is doing such a good job)

Your tongue traced the two veins running down the side of his cock, a small shiver running through Miguel’s body as he felt the sensations hitting him all at once. He grabbed the back of your head, thrusting into your mouth repeatedly as he took out the amounts of stress that had piling up out. The tip of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, your tongue brushing up against it with every thrust. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, a clear sign that his orgasm was approaching him rather quickly. The salty substance went down your throat in his final thrust, his eyes locked directly on yours as his chest heaved.

His talons worked on releasing you from the webs but before you had the chance to move, he picked you up and led you to the bathroom. You were bent over the counter, his cock slightly pressing up against your folds before he pushed it in one swift thrust. Your walls clenched up against his cock instinctively and he took a couple seconds to let himself bask in the feeling of you before he started moving.

He pressed your face against the mirror as he forced you to look at yourself while his cock stretched out your cunt, your knuckles turning ghost white from how hard you were gripping the counter. Your breath fogged up the mirror as he kept pushing inside of you, his cock reaching places that no one had ever had. His hands came to rest on your hips as he eased you in and out before one of them squeezed your ass. You yelped as you felt his hand strike your ass, the pain morphing into pleasure as he rubbed at the reddening skin.

You stood on your tippy toes as you tried to remain upright, your hands coming to grip his arms. "Look at what he's missing out on, then again, I don't think he could please you the same way I do," he murmured against your skin, bringing you up right as his mouth closed around the sensitive skin on your neck. He bit down, not hard enough for his fangs to release any of the venom but just hard enough to protrude your skin a bit. Your nails started digging into his skin as you felt him shift the angle a bit, his cock hitting you in all the right places.

One of his hands was on your breasts, tugging at the nipple as the other one played with your clit. He kept his gaze with you on the mirror, enjoying the way you squirmed underneath him and the way you couldn't keep eye contact for too long. Your pussy was gushing around his cock, allowing him to focus on giving you an angle that would provide pleasure, that would make you cum all over him. His fingers on your clit and as his mouth bit down on your shoulder, and you couldn't help the orgasm that washed out of you.

Your release formed a creamy ring at the base of his cock as he pushed deep into you, his thrusts becoming more sporadic and his moans becoming incoherent babbles. "Taking me so good, mami," he murmured, whispering other sweet nothings about how good your cunt was to him. He pulled out of you just in time, his cum dropping on the globes of your ass. He reached over, grabbing a piece of toilet paper to clean you off.

As he pulled his cock out of you, he couldn't help but look at you with a concerned expression. "I didn't hurt you too bad, did I?" He asked, taking note of your tear-stained cheeks and the bite marks all over you. "No, no. Don't worry about it," you responded, shooing him away so you could do your business. Truth be told, you'd never experimented having rough sex before but the idea of someone having an animalistic-like need towards you always enticed you.

You finished up in the bathroom, expecting to find Miguel ready for round two but he'd left the lab. You cleaned your slick off the table with a piece of toilet paper before heading up to the bedroom to check up on him. You opened the door, hearing his snores pouring over from the bed. His exhaustion had finally caught up to him and he had relaxed enough that sleep came easy to him. You left his house after getting dressed, not thinking too much about the encounter with him.

The day that you showed up at the office, you heard rumors circulating around that Miguel was more approachable to others. Though the marks he'd left on your skin had faded away due to your healing powers, the mark he left on you still lingered. You figured that he'd just used you for some stress relief so you didn't pursue anything with him. You walked to your desk, finding a cup of coffee with a note from Miguel sitting there but you refused to let yourself think about it too much.

A couple of days passed by and miguel continued to leave coffee cups before you showed up at work, leaving them with small notes. You figured he was thankful for the antidote so you pushed away the thoughts that made you a bit delusional, focusing on your work. You couldn't help but notice that even though he'd been more gentle with you, he'd gone back to his stoic personality with everyone else.

"If you didn't have any feelings for me, you could've just said so instead of ghosting me," he finally approached you one day, staring down at you coldly. "Excuse me?" You inquired, your brows contorted into an expression of confusion. "I thought that it was obvious that I liked you," he muttered and your eyes widened a bit. "No, I thought you were just thankful," you muttered, watching as he walked closer to you.

"I should've been more obvious given how clueless you are, but I'm telling you straight up that I like you," he spoke up, holding your hands in his. “Sorry I didn't take the hints you gave me," you responded, tilting your head to give him a small kiss on the lips. The kiss was nothing like last time, taking the time to enjoy each others presence rather than having the clash of tongues element to it. He walked with you to his office and just having you around as he looked at the monitors kept him from getting too stressed.

[munsonslove]

Open Drawers

(18+ only)

summary: You forget to close the drawer to your nightstand and your best friend accidentally finds your vibrator.

wordcount: 4.3k

tags/warnings: fem!reader, slight softdom!eddie, friends to lovers, smut, use of sex toys, praise kink (good girl), very slight degradation (he calls you a slut once), pet names (sweetheart, princess), spit used as lubricant, edging, overstim, no use of y/n

a/n: i teased this fic a while ago, sorry it took me a bit to actually post it but i hope you like it anyway!! requests are open and much appreciated, if i know someones actively waiting for me to write something for them i’ll be more likely to not spend a whole ass month on it lmao

It’s been weeks of torture. Ever since Eddie found out about your ‘little secret’ he’s refused to let it go, bringing it up as often as he can just to humiliate you further. It was cruel behavior, especially from the man you consider your best friend. Though you can’t be too surprised, considering he’d always had an affection for teasing you. In the past it had always been rather playful and innocent- maybe just ever so slightly suggestive- but you were generally able to ignore his flirtatious comments and retain your close relationship (no matter how much they made your pining heart flutter). It had been almost a month since everything changed.

Nobody was home when you returned from your shift, and inspecting the refrigerator revealed a note left to you from your roommates stating that they would be gone for the rest of the night. The news was passed along through phone call to your best friend before you even changed out of your work clothes, and within the hour Eddie had arrived at your door with a six-pack of beer and a relaxed grin. He entered without knocking (having been given a spare key from the day you moved in) and found you sprawled out on the couch, movie just starting with a large bowl of popcorn already made. You don’t even bother sparing him a glance up as he kisses the crown of your head before plopping down directly on top of you.

You try and fail to kick him off. Admittedly you may have been able to muster more strength for the task if you hadn’t been laughing at his typical antics. Failure becomes even more set in stone when his hands find their way to your sides and you dramatically call out “uncle, uncle!” in hopes that he will mercifully cease his relentless tickling. Thankfully, he does seem to be feeling benevolent this evening and climbs off, allowing you to sit up as he takes his place next to you. After ripping a can from its plastic rings, you pop open the tab and take a sip while Eddie grabs fistfulls of popcorn and shoves them into his mouth with a total lack of manners. You conclude that something is definitely wrong with you for finding this somehow endearing, and you gaze at him longingly until he turns to you with a mock-disgruntled eye roll. 

“John Hughes?”, he complains, mouth still half full, “Can’t we watch something else?”

You smirk at his predictability. “I knew we wouldn’t make it past the opening scene,” you respond while tsk-ing at him and shaking your head. “I rented a couple of cheesy looking b-movies just yesterday. You know, slasher flicks that for sure spent all their budget on fake blood?”

He smiles big and jumps up off of the sofa. “Aw, my favorite! You do love me!” he exclaims with sarcastic sentiment, “You remember to stash the tapes somewhere your thief roommates couldn’t find?”

“First of all, stop calling my friends thieves. That was one time,” you say while slapping lightly at his leg from your lowered position, “And second, yeah. They’re next to my bed.”

He nods and heads to your bedroom, not wasting time to ask permission seeing as after so many years you both had developed a ‘me casa es su casa’ type of unspoken agreement. After a few more sips of your beer and picking at a partially popped kernel, you notice that Eddie is taking an unusual amount of time retrieving the tapes. You were sure that you had left them on your nightstand, you even remember seeing them while in bed this morning as you were reaching over to-

Oh. Fuck.

The can drops from your hand and falls to the floor, spilling light amber liquid onto the hardwood. Rushing into your room, you see Eddie standing in front of the drawer you had forgone closing while leaving earlier, looking down into it with a clear view of your 18th birthday present to yourself. He whips around, jaw dropped in shock. There’s an unreadable look in his eyes as he stares you down, and you realize that you have no idea what he’s thinking about. Probably all the new ammunition he now has to use against you during one of your future banter sessions.

You run forward, shoving him sideways onto the bed and slamming the drawer shut. He lands with a huff- his back on the mattress- before propping himself up onto his elbows, still looking at you with that confusing expression. His silence so far is honestly more nerve wracking than him ruthlessly making fun of you would have been.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize frantically. “I completely forgot I left this open, and I didn’t know we’d be hanging out tonight, and when I sent you in here I didn’t even think about it, and I never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, and I-”

“Woah, princess,” he cuts off your rambling, using that nickname that he’s been using ever since the two of you met back in school. It usually brought a warmth to your cheeks, but given that you already felt sick to your stomach the sweet moniker was not appreciated. “It’s fine, I promise!”

“Fine?” you cry out, the sound muffled by your palms as your heated face is now buried behind your hands. You turn your body to face away from him, and he pushes back with his arms to sit up the rest of the way, then reaches forward to grip your elbow and spin you back around.

“Yeah, I swear! You didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything,” he consoles. “I was just surprised, is all. I just… wouldn’t have expected… you… to have that.” As he speaks the final word, he gestures to the freshly closed drawer containing your magic wand vibrator. The room falls quiet once more as he stares blankly at the offending table, seemingly lost in thought.

You shove his shoulder a little more harshly than you mean to, and he blinks back to consciousness and rubs where you met contact before re-meeting your eyes. “Don’t look at it like that!” you chastise, ignoring the fact that he technically wasn’t looking at ‘it’ like anything, seeing as it was now hidden out of sight. Your head falls into the cover of your hands yet again as you groan out, “Ugh! You probably think I’m some kind of slut now.”

“N-no!” he’s quick to deny, shaking his head. “Of course I don’t think that about you! I mean, come on, give me some credit. It’s the 80s,” he counters, with emphasis on the last word, “guys can be progressive now. I know girls masturbate too!”

“Please don’t say that word,” you reply, your hands still hiding your face but compromising by peeking out through your fingers.

“What?” he questions with a smirk, “Masturbate?”

“You’re completely impossible,” you state, giving in and dropping your arms to your side. You pick up the videos from your messy nightstand and turn on your heel to walk out the door, not even stopping as you shout out “Are you coming or what, Eds?”

Behind you, Eddie takes the opportunity of your back being turned to adjust himself in his pants and prays that he manages to keep it down throughout the duration of movie night.

That was almost an entire month ago. While Eddie took pity on you for the remainder of that night, the very next morning began his onslaught of mockery. Although, perhaps mockery wasn’t quite the right word, because you know all his jokes were meant to be lighthearted and fun. You know if you told him he was making you uncomfortable that he would stop in a heartbeat, so the real problem you’re facing is that you don’t want him to stop. Every time he shows up unannounced and slyly asks, “I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?” with that knowing gleam in his eyes, you’re not sure if you want to scold him for his teasing or jump his bones. Him speaking so candidly about something that’s always been so private should be embarrassing- and it is- but it would be dishonest to say the butterflies in your stomach are only there because of your modesty. Truth be told, he was turning you on every time he hinted at the fact that he knows all about your favorite form of self care.

Not only were the teasing comments nonstop, there were also the questions. Eddie was relentlessly curious about the process (which confounded you considering you thought the situation was pretty straightforward) and he never seemed to run out of things he wanted to ask you.

“How long have you had it?”, “How many settings are there?”, “How often do you use it?”, “Do you need it to get off?”, “What do you think about when you use it?” (definitely couldn’t answer that one honestly), and finally, “How exactly do you use it?”

According to him, he wanted to know the ‘right way’ to use one on a girl for future reference. One day, the frustration of constantly having to dodge his incessant questions became too much, and without thinking you blurted out, “If you’re so curious about how to use it, why don’t I just teach you?” Understandably, your outburst shocked the both of you. What shocked you more was when Eddie quickly recovered and excitedly agreed.

That was how you found yourself spread out on your bed with your best friend on his knees in between your thighs. Your most private area is only covered by your hands, and your discarded panties are tucked in Eddie’s back jeans pocket.

“How am I supposed to do this if you’re hiding, princess?” he asks, observing the toy and turning it over in his hands, “Don’t be shy. It’s just me.”

That was the problem. It was him, your friend that you’ve been harboring a secret crush on for years. Now you’re in a position with him that you’ve fantasized about so many times, and you don’t know what it means for the future of your relationship. Above you, Eddie fiddles with the two buttons, figuring out the mechanics of what they do. He discovers the bottom button turns it on while the top changes the speed. There are three settings, and after cycling through them all it starts back at the beginning, only turning off by pressing the bottom button once more. When he’s done figuring out how the toy works, he powers it on to the lowest setting and looks at you expectantly, eyes flitting between your hands and face. You turn your head to the side, take one final deep breath and move your arms to your stomach, revealing yourself to him.

The air is cold on your exposed center. Other than your shaky exhaling and the humming of the vibrator, it’s quiet. You realize with embarrassment that Eddie has stopped breathing, and when you steal a glance back at him he’s staring at your bare center with an unreadable expression. You instinctively hide your face in your hands, and your thighs involuntarily twitch to close. Of course, they can’t fully shut with Eddie sitting in between them, but the movement does stir the boy from his trance. He pries your hands away from your face and you’re forced to confront his inspecting of you.

He kisses a wet peck to the tip of your nose like he’s done so many times before, and just like always your entire face scrunches up with a smile. With eyes now closed, you start to feel giddy and you can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation. You half expect Eddie to start laughing with you, but no sound comes from your friend. Suddenly- and without warning- he presses the vibrator directly to your clit. Your eyes snap open, rolling back in both shock and pleasure as a humiliatingly high pitched squeal escapes out of your slack-jawed mouth.

“Such a pretty sound from such a pretty girl,” Eddie says, barely loud enough to hear considering the buzzing raised in volume due to being pushed up against something. It’s almost like he was more absentmindedly commenting to himself rather than purposefully complimenting you.

You’re only capable of responding with moans as your legs fold into your torso and your toes start to curl. It’s still set to the lowest vibration option, but your aforementioned nerves and arousal were making you much more sensitive than you would otherwise be while using the toy alone. Eddie’s empty hand moves to stroke your inner thigh, before inching toward your center slowly. He seems to be asking permission to touch you himself, and the fact that he still thinks to wait for consent while literally sitting in between your legs after taking off your underwear almost has you laughing again. Instead, you simply nod your head. Eddie’s fingers immediately spread your lips further, allowing the head of the vibrator to be able to hit your clit more directly. The buzzing becomes higher in pitch as he goes up one setting, and the sensation becomes too much to handle.

“Sorry,” he whispers when you whine and start to squirm away, “I’ll be nice.”

After positioning yourself back into place, you mumble out, “Sensitive…” as an explanation. Your voice is surprisingly weak.

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, though you doubt he actually feels regretful, “I know.”

The sound of clicking reaches your ears as Eddie toggles the toy back to the first setting. His thumb briefly brushes over your clit, causing you to shiver and gasp, and he breathes out a quiet laugh before pressing the vibrator against you once more- this time more gently. The vibrations are more bearable this way, and you feel the pleasure slowly start to rise and rise until you become a moaning puddle beneath the metalhead. Just as you’re crying out his name- a warning that you're about to cum- he pulls away, cruelly laughing at your protesting.

“Eds, what the fuck?” you shout, frustratedly. “I was so close! Why the hell would you-”

“Calm down, princess,” he interrupts. “You know I’ll get you there. I just wanna have some fun along the way.”

And you do know. You trust him more than anyone else- you’d trust him with your life- but you also know that he’s a little shit. “Please, Eds. Please just get to it,” you beg.

He stares at the head of the toy for a moment before lifting it to his face. His tongue parts his lips, swollen and pink from him biting them, and your eyes widen as he slowly licks directly where the silicone was just touching you. He moans, and his eyes roll back into his head. The sight only drives you more wild, and your hips start rocking the bed as you wait for him to continue.

He starts to bite his lips again as he watches you grind against nothing, desperately searching for friction. “Maybe I was wrong before,” he says slowly with a teasing lilt, “maybe you are a slut.” He had a look in his eyes that you had never seen before.

Your entire body raises in temperature. “Eddie…” you whine, surprised by how much his rudeness is affecting you. “Please…”

“So fucking wet, dripping all over your sheets,” he continues distractedly, paying no mind to your pleading as he caressed up and down your slit, collecting your juices. When he pulls away, you notice the lights of your bedroom reflecting off the glistening moisture on his fingers, and you resist the urge to hide again. “Such a pretty pussy. The prettiest. She’s not used to being treated so nicely, huh?”

As usual, his confidence blurs the line between incredibly sexy and incredibly annoying. His words are making your insides flutter, and probably worsening the ‘dripping all over your sheets’ problem. Still, you can’t help but feel your frustration grow. “Please, Eds, make me cum. Please make me cum,” you beg some more as you scoot down the bed. Your thighs no longer have the room to be laying on either side of him. Instead, they are now resting atop his own thighs, with your pelvises almost meeting making contact.

“So desperate for your best friend to make you cum. Are you always this wet, princess?” As he asks this, the vibrator meets your center again. He rubs it back and forth vertically in quick motions, and you groan in relief.

You answer by shaking your head no. It definitely wasn’t always like this. In fact, it was never like this. The toy slid so effortlessly between your puffy lips, massaging your sensitive nub directly and bringing tears to your eyes.

“Aw,” he cooed, “so it’s just for me?”

As embarrassed as you feel, you figure there’s no use in denying it now. “J- just for you.”

That familiar feeling of climax starts to creep up on you once more, and once more you cry out in annoyance when Eddie eases up the pressure before pulling off entirely.

“No!” you sob, “Eddie please, I need it so bad.”

“You’ll cum when I’m ready for you to cum,” he says, though the dominance in his tone is betrayed by the lust in his eyes. “I just want to play with you for a little longer. You’ll be a good girl, right?”

You suspect that he won’t start up again until you agree, so you do so without a second thought. “I’ll be your good girl,” you promise, “I’ll be good.”

He smiles wide at you before spreading your lips apart and leaning down to spit directly in between them, not that you needed the extra lubrication. Feeling his saliva make contact sent shockwaves through your body, and your back arched just in time for him to harshly press the vibrator back to your clit and start rubbing it in fast circles. This time, the orgasm doesn’t so much creep up on you as it does jump out in front of you, and you’re about to give in until you hear Eddie’s voice behind the haze.

“Hold it,” he orders. “You said you would be good, so be a good little slut and hold it.”

Your head is already thrown back, and you squeeze your eyes shut in concentration. Every fiber of your being is focused on not cumming, wanting to do as Eddie wishes so you can please him. Noticing your efforts, he lifts the toy off of your aching clit and allows you to catch your breath. With your newfound relief from the strain of resisting climax, you notice that Eddie’s free hand has left your waist, and you look down to a glorious sight.

Eddie’s palming himself through his jeans. The image burns itself into your eyelids, so not even blinking becomes an escape from what you're witnessing your best friend do to himself (not that you’re complaining). You silently observe in awe as he attempts to shove his hand down his pants, and struggles on account of them being too tight. To remedy this, he unzips his jeans and slides them down just far enough for you to catch a glimpse of his hard cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. There’s a wet patch where his head was leaking precum, and a clear imprint of his impressively girthy shaft. Once the pants are out of his way you see his hand disappear inside of his underwear as he wraps it around his member and starts jerking harshly, not fully able to stroke up and down his length given the obstructive clothing.

The pure, unadulterated lust that’s consuming you is overpowering any shyness you previously felt. “Eddie,” you say his name, but he ignores you considering you’ve been a constant stream of “Eddie, Eddie, oh Eddie,” for the past ten minutes. “Eds,” you try again, “you can take it out.”

All movement inside his boxers halts. “Huh?” he exclaims with wide eyes, “A- are you sure? This was supposed to be about you.”

“I’m sure,” you confirm. And you lift up your t-shirt to reveal the white lacy bra underneath as you elaborate, “I want you to finish on me.”

His forehead wrinkles as his eyebrows shoot up in shock. With his wide eyed staring, it almost seems like he can’t believe what you’re saying. Drool pools in his open mouth before he composes himself with a head shake. Wordlessly, he sets the still vibrating toy down on the mattress and lifts your thighs off of him, before sitting up enough to pull down the sides of his boxers. His cock springs up the second his underwear is out of the way, and -without thinking about the consequences- you spit into your palm and reach out to tentatively wrap your fingers around him.

The strangled noise that leaves his mouth is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. He instinctively bucks his hips, but freezes, waiting for you to make the call. You start stroking him hard and fast, not bothering working up to a quicker speed when you were already so desperate for release and wanted him to cum with you. Eddie can apparently relate to said desperation, and hastily picks up the toy back up. Every muscle inside of you clenched as he started rubbing the tip against your clit in small circles. You strained to prolong this moment, knowing your eventual orgasm would be much more rewarding if you could see his face as he came all over your hand and stomach. 

“God, sweetheart,” he groans, “So fucking good. So much better than my hand.” 

The mental image of Eddie touching himself has you cursing out loud. “Really?” you ask, the pride getting to your head, making you feel light and floaty.

“You have no idea,” he responds. “Been fucking my fist nonstop since that movie night. Couldn’t help myself. All I could think about was you getting off, moaning my name.” You wonder if he knows just how real his fantasy was.

His free hand gently caresses the lacy undergarment covering your chest, his touch so light you barely register it. The uncertainty in his actions is clear, so in lieu of giving verbal consent you simply take his hand in your own and guide it to be fully on your breast.

“Can I pull this down, princess?” he practically begs, and you answer with a nod. He immediately tugs the breast cups downward, revealing your naked chest. Your soft, unmarked flesh is framed by the bunched up fabric of your shirt that’s been gathered at your clavicle, and the lacy material of your bra being held below by Eddie’s trembling hand. His hips are now moving in time with the rhythm of your strokes, and the rocking is causing your tits to bounce in a way that has his angry red tip spilling precum all over your hand as he attempts to hold off his release. The sight has you imagining what he would taste like, with you on your knees in the back of his van, and that thought has you hurtling toward the finish line at an embarrassing speed.

“Cum for me,” he orders. The second he gives you permission, you feel the damn break. As you're busy crying out in pleasure, you faintly hear Eddie in the background. “Good girl,” he grunts, “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You cum with his name on your lips. The intensity of this orgasm is unfamiliar, and you realize with bitterness that the edging you were forced to endure was truly worth the end result. With your mind elsewhere, your stroking halts and you hear the creaking of your bed as Eddie starts to violently thrust into your fist until he meets you in orgasmic bliss. Warmth falls on your naked torso and you look down to see that he’s angled his cock to be aiming at your stomach, fulfilling your earlier wish of him finishing on you. The sight of him using your hand to milk himself dry combined with the buzzing still pressed hard against your clit has you cumming harder than you ever have before. Your hand falls from Eddie as his high comes to an end, but he does nothing to pull away the toy and offer relief to your achingly sensitive core. Any attempt to wiggle your hips free from his hold seems to go unnoticed by his strength, and you have no choice but to take the unrelenting vibrations. The overstimulation has tears falling down the side of your face as your shoulders raise from the bed, the top of your scalp pushing into the mattress as your head is thrown back. Eventually, you are able to move away, and Eddie turns off the toy and chucks it off the bed before climbing on top of you and finally kissing you on the lips.

With both of you breathing heavily into the other’s open mouth, the kiss isn’t exactly how you always imagined your first kiss with your best friend to go, but it’s perfect nonetheless. Your hands find their way into his wild hair, while his tighten their grip on your waist. His tongue in your mouth just barely has the taste of you on it from him licking your toy earlier, and as his thigh brushes your middle small aftershocks rush through your body. You stay like this for a while, lazily making out and feeling each other’s bodies, until he breaks off of your mouth to kiss down your jaw, to your neck, then back up to the side of your face.

When he reaches just under your ear, his lips part from your heated skin to whisper, “So we’re doing that again, right?”

Grabbing a tuft of his hair, you guide him back to your mouth, and with your lips moving against him you answer, “Definitely,” before deepening the kiss. You’re still unsure of what this exactly means for your friendship, but that can be talked about another time.

[moonit3]

THE PERFECT LOVER!

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, violence, obsession, codependency, blood, murder, gender neutral reader but you are into guys only, axel is a little sh*t at first but then becomes a yandere, reader’s ingenuity, implied depression, slow burn, stalking, obsession.

➥ yandere! rent-a-boyfriend x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: desperate to be loved after rejections and being stand up numerous times, you hire a rent-a-boyfriend to delude yourself that someone actually loves you.

➥ a/n: with the poll done, here the post choose by you guys! for the story, i think i got this idea from the rent-a-girlfriend manga? but the story is pretty boring and don’t lead to anywhere as every character dumb ^ ^ , so i have decided to write something based on this plot with yandere, blood and some violence. this piece won’t have any smut on it, sorry. this work is longer than my others, aware.

➥ like every start of the weekend, you are left to be alone at a friday night that you believed to be the day that you were going to meet your soulmate, but that was wrong. turns out the guy isn’t coming up for this second date as he texted, sorry. but you aren’t as attractive as I thought you would be!, resulting in you paying the drink you ordered was you were waiting for him to show up and walking back home.

➥ arriving home, you just throw yourself into the bed, ignoring the cute clothes and makeup you put on to impress that idiot, that doesn’t matter with the tears already flowing down to your chest. why this keep happening to you? all people you know or see in the streets are happily living their lives with someone at their side, even having children after years of being together. but you, you didn’t even got to the second phase of dating nor a boyfriend, all guys would just ghost you after the first date (if they even bother to show up).

➥ could it be that you are destined to be alone? your heart is breaking piece by piece with every failure that lead you to a final attempt in order to make you feel less lonely, a rent-a-partner dating site. it’s really bad that you are hiring someone to pretend to be your love, your are paying them to make up for your loneliness. you are quite pathetic, right?

➥ scrolling at the numerous pages full of candidates, you came across one that easily called your attention. axel, auburn hair with freckles all over his face and of course, a cute smile! the picture itself made you blush and already imagine the millions scenarios with him. a picnic at the park, maybe a shopping date where he buys you the jewelry you always wanted or even holding your hands! stay chill, [name]. he is a rent-a-boyfriend, not a real one, he is getting paid for it.

➥ and you did hire him for a completely service next day, your heart start beating faster and you couldn’t help but spend some hours preparing the perfect set of clothes to impress axel. something that is both casual, yet classy to give him the impression that you aren’t desperate for this nor that you never had a properly relationship before, nah, you are just trying to forget about your exe (at least that what you’ve told in your bio).

➥ once the day finally arrives, you put the best clothes from your wardrobe and waits for axel to show up at the cafe where the date will be set. sitting next to the glass window, taking a sip your favorite drink, he arrives. the redhead boy sit in front of you with that smile on the face, already acting and analyzing you from head and toes, oh god. he is even handsome in person!

➥ the date start so good! he is truly a gentleman with his manner and his acting is amazing, the way he holds your hand at every moment and how he pays attention in whatever you are talking is more than enough to make you blush. you feel lucky to have hired a guy like him, he truly makes the experience feels to real that you ended paying him more just to stay a little longer than you planned at first, and of course, he made it worth it.

➥ when his job was done, axel walked you back home despite not having do it, but he did and even hold your hand in the way. he said it’s to protect you from any possible danger or guy that might try to flirt with you, making you blush more and more (his plan is working!). once you got home, he kissed your forehead and waited until you got inside to leave with that smile of his, happy that everything is working out perfectly.

➥ to you, he is the perfect boyfriend that you always wish to have since the very moment you learn about romance, that’s why you are going to hire him more. and to axel, you are more than willingly to pay more than usual just to him pretending to be your boyfriend, aren’t you a little silly? you must be really lonely to have hired him from that stupid site, but he isn’t complaining, after all, you are the one paying him.

➥ then more and more dates happen, axel pretending to be your boyfriend while you began to truly falling in love with him, completely forgetting that he is just with you for the money and ranks of the enterprise he is part of, yet it’s easy to notice that you believe that axel is in love with you, that he will stop being a rent-a-boyfriend to become your real boyfriend. so you propose it to him after many dates, only to be rejected.

➥ his laughs are tormenting your mind and his words are unforgettable. you really thought that i loved you? you are so funny, [name] and quite pathetic too. do you really thought that i would stay with you if wasn’t the amount of money you spend on me? you are delusional for thinking that you are worth of my love. with that, you ended the contract with axel and leaves him immediately with tears ruining your makeup and clothes. he expected that you would apologize to him, but no, you blocked him from your social medias and deleted the photos that you posted with him. despite being his highest paying client, axel moved on to others clients and you moved on to find someone else.

➥ a couple of weeks passed and he couldn’t stop thinking about you at all. the expression you gave him whatever he would surprise you, the small gifts you gave him that he always wanted and the kisses you two share when it was his time to leave. why is thinking about it? you were just a client like everyone else, but why you are in his mind? he needs to stop thinking about you. so he began taking even more to job in an attempt to forget you.

➥ it was working until he catch a glimpse of you during one his job, you are serving tables at a expensive restaurant that his date asked to come and there are visible marks of dark undertones beneath your eyes. did something happened to you? he wants to ask it, but that would ruin the date and he won’t get his payment, so he keeps to himself and tries to pay attention on the woman that hired him.

➥ at some point of the date, he excused himself to go the bathroom, where he got hear some faint sounds coming from the kitchen and of course, he wanted to check it. there, he saw you hugging another coworker of yours in tears and your voice broken him, the way you spoke to your friend about being stupid enough to think that you are worth of love and how you are never going to fall in love again. axel knew that he did hurt you, but never expected it to hurt you so much to make you feel horrible…he needed to apologize.

➥ after his date, axel wait for you at the back doors and as expected, you were there, but weren’t alone. there is another guy standing next to you, someone he recall to be another waiter of the restaurant, someone who is too close of you with a arm around your waist. you replaced him? no, you can’t do it. axel began to talk, at least try, about his mistake and how he will repay for all the things you did for him, he even knee on the ground to ask for your forgiveness for his acts.

➥ it’s embarrassing that he is asking forgiveness from someone he treated like trash, but axel has to do it to beg for your forgiveness and to get back together with him, this time to become a real couple til their last breath on earth. i know that i was an idiot, a fucking horrible person and that y-you deserve someone better than me, but i promise that i have changed to be someone better just for you! let me become your boyfriend, a real one this time and then we get married one day , have a family if you want and grown old together. and he spoken even more til he loses his voice.

➥ you didn’t speak, not able to talk for hearing so much of axel’s rambling, but you did slap him harder. he is acting like he is the victim in this situation and that made you yell at him for a couple of minutes til you were done. the emotion you put in your voice made axel cry of guilt and once you left him along your friend, the redhead began rethinking about the ‘relationship’ you two shared weeks ago. it was so perfect and he ruined that.

➥ after that, axel began stalking you in his free time and leaving gifts for you in your doorsteps, hoping that you would accept his handwriting notes full of apologies and money, only to be left devastated when you didn’t even bother open the letter and throw it away in the trash. but he didn’t give up, no, he still has hope to change your heart and accept him once again.

@moonit3 writings

[seeingivy]

obsessions

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends (older brother) series

previous part linked here

--

sukuna always considered himself an entirely different entity, especially when he was comparing himself to you. labels were something he learned quick and fast – that he was gifted, that he was juvenile, that he was his mother’s angel boy, but he could never seem to do right by her, or anyone else for that matter, besides it.  

he doesn’t understand it. sukuna wasn’t quite gifted, school just seemed to be something that functioned without requiring any effort from him. that the connections formed in his head, that he was athletic, that people just wanted to be around him. 

that deep down, he wished he could have had the struggle, something that would help him relate to his peers – just so he could be a little bit more touchable. a little more human.

that sometimes without explaining, he would have this tensing energy in him, that always culminated in him pulling a girl’s hair or punching one of his classmates when they made him too angry. that sometimes it was the only way he could relieve that tension that had been building for days.

that he was an angel boy to his mother, who was too spineless to stand up for her sons, and instead left him to do it for the group of them. it didn’t matter if he was eleven, if he was cowering in fear or sixteen and grieving, because someone had to stand at the plate and he had to be the one to do it when no one else would. 

that despite the selflessness it took, it made him angry. that deep down, as an eldest son, as an older sibling – he should have been overjoyed. he should have been happy that no one else did it for him, because it meant he was spared the pain. 

he should have been glad he got to protect them. that at the end of the day, it was his job. 

but no matter how hard he tried, it would still never be enough. the expectations were high and he would never be tall enough to reach them.

it’s why it sends him into a spiraling hole when he fails to deliver for you. quite possibly, the only person he’d want to fill that role for. 

“sukuna?” 

“hm, dollface?” 

he watches as you pace around the room, clasping your necklace around your neck, and smiles at the light pink ribbon in your hair. 

“were you able to wash my sweater? the pink one?” you ask. 

sukuna bites hard into the softness of his cheek, the pit in his stomach rolling in waves. 

the pink sweater, for valentines day. 

he walks closer to you, as you plate the little heart shaped cookies and grab your bouquet of flowers as you look up at him, expectantly. there’s a certain franticness in your demeanor, like you’re ready to bolt out the door in his old college sweatshirt that you were wearing over your skirt without giving it a second thought.  

there’s pink glitter smeared over your eyelids, a sweet flowery smell from your freshly sprayed perfume, and a white ribbon in your hair – you’re so perfect and it makes him feel like a failure. 

“baby, i’m so sorry. i can go throw it for a wash right now.” he murmurs. 

you wince. 

“honey. i’m already running late.” you groan. 

you shake your head, locking your phone as you place your cold hand on his cheek and press a kiss to his skin. 

“no problem, s’my fault anyways. i’ll yank something from kugi’s closet and see you after bestie-tines, okay?” 

sukuna gives you a halfhearted nod, something you don’t notice as you rush out to your little party, and he can’t help but feel his heart sink. 

there’s only one reason that sukuna’s able to read you so well – so keen, so aware about how obsessive you can really be. 

it’s because he’s the same way. 

for you, the comments regarding your looks, the perceived slights of awkwardness you seem to experience, they send you tumbling. make you meticulously brush your hair multiple times, vigorously rub your skin till its nearly pink. 

and for him. the small things he fails at, that he can never seem to do anything right – by his parents, his brother, his beloved girlfriend. 

it nearly drives him crazy. and makes it unable for him to stop.

--

bestie-tines is a simple tradition that was established three years ago, on february 13th. 

valentine’s day, originally, was always a day that you and yuuji reserved for one another. it started out simple – that the two of you could bond on this holiday, be a soft place for each other when other people couldn’t.  

it was always your friends – who felt smarter, prettier, more intelligent and more interesting than you. it was like there was a secret, that there was something fundamental about them that you lacked. that you could pin it to that inherent thing that you would never really possess, which is why you always ended up alone on this day. 

or begging for a text back. 

and for yuuji. it was the teasing comments. from his dad, a classmate, something said in passing that would never leave his mind. and really, the deep rooted despair – that this holiday, in its entirety, would never be one that he would get to enjoy. that even if he was happy, he wouldn’t ever be normal, that maybe he’d always get a weird look or turn a head just for being how he was. 

and when kugisaki came along, it was nearly perfect. you’d each plan a little activity together. you’d get the two of them to bake with you – or more appropriately, stick their fingers into the batter and watch you bake – and kugisaki would make you participate in some ear-splitting karaoke. 

yuuji always liked the warmth of it all, that you’d both fall asleep on his shoulders halfway into the stupid rom-com he picked, and that in the confined walls of his room, he could pretend for one second that things weren’t as they were. 

and years later, megumi was added to the bunch and by translation, whichever girl nobara seemed to be talking to at the time, ended up tagging along too. 

it dampens the mood a little bit. that yuuji and megumi will be holding hands and making the batter together – in a way that seems entirely romantic and antithetical to what the point of bestie-tines was. and nobara’s partners were always in that stage, that stage of talking where the chase became so intoxicating, that other people didn’t seem to exist anymore. 

it didn’t bother you much. the underlying theme was still there – and being the person barring partners from a valentine’s day event seemed to be too pathetic of a hole to crawl into. 

yuuji swings the door open after your first knock, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a swift kiss to your cheek. you nearly cowering at the touch and wiping the wetness away from your cheek. 

“i haven’t seen you in forever, dude. where have you been?” yuuji asks, nearly pulling you in by the arms and taking the little platter from your hands. 

you tuck the ends of your hair behind your ears, giving side hugs to both nobara and megumi as you respond. 

“just around. you know. senior year, thesis stuff.” 

“i feel like i could usually find you holed up in the library somewhere. d’you find some new secret spot that you aren’t telling me about?” yuuji asks. 

yes. your brother’s apartment. 

and you would tell him – you have every intention to let all of them know that you were dating sukuna by the end of the night, because at this point, it was almost stupid not to. 

because really, at the core of it, it’s not like you're embarrassed of him. actually quite the opposite. 

and it’s not that yuuji can police who you date. and if it’s something that makes you happy, it should be something that makes them happy too. 

and deep down, you know it will. that the fact that you were finally, almost being rewarded with what you were given – someone who was patient, was understanding. 

someone who would be able to love you. 

“university of reading? who goes to the university of reading?” 

you look down at your sweatshirt, biting down on your cheek, as you give megumi a peachy smile. 

“sukuna did. like back in the day.” yuuji answers, halfheartedly, into the conversation as he and maki, nobara’s guest for this bestie-tines, set up the karaoke machine. 

megumi gives you a weird look, before leaning against the counter and nobara joining you at your side. she leans her head against your shoulder, one of the little heart shaped cookies trapped in between her lips, as she mumbles through the crumb. 

“are they stale? i had to make them yesterday.” 

“nope. s’perfect.” 

you hum in response. 

“are you bringing anyone, y/n?” maki asks, flipping all the little strobe lights on the little machine. 

“oh-” 

“y/n doesn’t bring anyone to bestie-tines.” yuuji answers, unwrapping the coil of the microphone. 

“our little baby. y’know, she’s always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” nobara states, pinching the side of your cheek before she reaches forward to flip in through the little catlog of songs. 

you pinch your lips into a straight line – swallowing down that acidic feeling in your throat. 

the jokes don’t work the same anymore. not that you were going to be sukuna’s bride, but the implication is entirely different. 

and maybe the phrasing was a little weird. it’s not like you would never bring someone to bestie-tines, it’s just that it had to be someone who was an established partner of yours. and at the core of it – it was always about friends, not romantic partners, and you never felt the need to front.

not that you would ever say that. it almost felt wrong to – to police something for yuuji when what he got to experience, at least in the romantic sphere in public, was always going to be met with some level of scrutiny.  

but it was always wrong. what you used to reach for – lipstick on a pig, always an angel never a god, the poet but never the poem. 

but…but it didn’t ring true. at least not anymore. 

and it goes fine and well. yuuji – and a megumi who takes a little convincing – sing lover and nobara gives you her annual loving serenade to the song one less lonely girl. 

and it all comes crashing down when they ask you to sing all by myself by celine dion. 

“oh, c’mon. you sing it like every year! it’s like your anthem!” yuuji whines, pressing the microphone into your hand. 

you shake your head, bringing your hands up in protest. 

“no singing from me this year. i’ve retired.” 

“dude, it’s like a tradition!” nobara adds, a hand lazily slung over maki’s shoulder. 

you swallow down the retort. that actually, the tradition was that ALL of you sang all by myself together. not you alone, while they sat there and watched you. and that you all baked the cookies together, not you alone the night before in your apartment. 

“not this year!” you respond, getting a resounding group of boo’s before maki takes her place. 

if they really cared about traditions, megumi and maki wouldn’t be there right now – they’d celebrate tomorrow. on valentine’s day, like intended. 

yuuji comes out at your side, megumi distracted by recording the god awful mess coming out of maki’s mouth, and places his hands on your shoulders – leaning his chin right against the top of your head. 

“you okay?” he asks. 

“mhm.” 

yuuji pauses, before digging his fingers into your muscle and forcing you to spin around to look at him. it’s gives you a weird twinge for a split second – how similar he looks to sukuna – before you muster your best smile for him. 

“we’re good, right?” 

“yeah! yeah, of course. still on for friday?” 

“yeah.” 

you hum in response, the two of you giving each other tight lipped smiles in the awkward silence, before yuuji leans against the counter, the two of you watching maki and nobara make their attempts to strangle megumi. 

“maybe next year we can keep bestie-tines to just you and me.” yuuji states. 

you frown. 

“no! no, it’s always fun with the group. plus, it’s nobara’s karaoke machine. doubt she’d let us use it without an invite.” 

yuuji smiles in response, an airy laugh leaving his lips. he leans his head against yours, his cheek smushed against your head before squeezing you hard. 

“i like the group too. but, we rarely get any me and you time anymore. so, just our thing. i can live one day without megumi.” 

you grin. 

“i find that hard to believe. and don’t worry. i’m really not upset or anything, you-you don’t have to change plans and stuff. i just…didn’t want to sing the song. for my own reasons.” you state.

yuuji gives you a nod. 

“yeah, i know. but still – just feel like i barely know what’s going on with you anymore. what rom-com are you going to watch tomorrow?” 

this is your segway. 

yuuji knows that you always spend valentine’s day the same way. that you make the ten minute sheet valentine’s day cookies, light your peony and rose candle, and pick a rom-com before you head to bed early. 

“ah. i’m having an early brunch before class.” 

“fancy. it’s always nice to treat yourself.” yuuji states. 

you bite your tongue. 

“yeah, yeah it is. but…i’m going with my boyfriend.” 

yuuji leans off of your body, eyes pinched in confusion as he looks down at you. the rolling wave of embarrassment, of nerve-wracking doubt courses through you. 

“you have a boyfriend?” 

you swallow hard. 

“yeah. um, we’ve been seeing each other since after christmas. he’s um…really good to me and stuff. i really like him – well actually i told him i was falling in love with him and he said he was too and-” 

“woah. that’s kind of fast.” yuuji states. 

“yeah. but, i’ve also known him for a long time, so…so we kind of skipped some of that like – are you a murderer? talking stage.” you state. 

“the odds are low, but never zero.” yuuji jokes. 

the two of you laugh, as you dig your nails into the hardness of your palm. 

“you should have brought him. though in hindsight, that probably would have scared him off.” yuuji states. 

“it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before though. but i couldn’t exactly bring sukuna here without telling you first. or everyone else too.” you murmur. 

yuuji pauses, before fully turning to face you. 

“you…you’re dating sukuna?” 

“yeah. that’s where i’ve been, i guess. he gave me a key to his apartment since mai is mai and i just kind of stay there a lot.” you state. 

yuuji’s nodding, like he’s rolling over the information on his mind.

the immediate hesitation, the silence – it speaks volumes.

he doesn’t approve. 

“is he going to come on friday?” 

“no. not if you don’t want him to.” you state. 

“yeah. s’just…the mix of the parents. and him and you and sammy stuff. just give me a second to get used to all of that.” yuuji states. 

you bite down on your cheek. 

“you’re okay with it?” 

yuuji smiles, the sentiment not meeting his eyes. 

“not like that’s going to stop you, right?” he asks, an almost jeering tone in his voice. 

“yuuji.” 

“i’m kidding! if he makes you happy, then good for you. just don’t want it to change things between us. don’t go forgetting all about me because you have him.” 

that’s rich coming from him. 

“of course. you and me, first. always.” 

yuuji gives you an affirmative nod, before pushing off the counter and leaving you alone. 

--

you’re tipsy when you get on the train. and by the time you’re pushing the key through sukuna’s doors, the tears that have been streaming down your face for the past twenty minutes are obstructing your vision. 

you’re not sure when it was that you started crying. somewhere between fifteenth street and your stop and that overwhelming feeling with no real source – of the embarrassment, the bleakness, the disappointment – it’s enough to bring everything coming to a head. 

and the thing that pushes you right over the edge is the fact that you can’t slide the key into the lock. it's so frustrating that you give up and lean against the door, the wood of the frame surely indenting your forehead as you heavily pant. 

after five minutes, you nearly collapse into sukuna’s arms when he opens the door you were leaning your entire weight against. he’s fast with it, his hands at your sides holding you up against him. 

“jesus fuck, y/n. i thought someone was trying to break in.” sukuna utters. 

you instinctively wrap your arms around his frame, burying your face into the warmth of his neck. you can tell that he’s confused by the gesture – his arms not coming up around yours immediately. 

“sorry. didn’t mean to scare you.” you sniffle, leaning your burning eyelids against his cold skin. 

“are you crying, doll?” 

“maybe a little.” 

your voice comes out all muffled against his shirt, as he wraps his hand around your neck and lolls your head back with his fingers. the sparkly glitter is spread all over your face now, accompanied with black streaks running down your cheek. 

sukuna immediately frowns, thumb rubbing against the wetness as his eyes soften.

it nearly makes you start crying all over again. 

“do you want me to kill someone?” sukuna jokes. 

sukuna can see the smallest makings of a smile on your face. 

“your key hole. i couldn’t open the door.” you whisper. 

“done. fuck the door.” 

sukuna watches as you laugh, bringing the palms up to your face as you wipe away at your cheeks. he watches as you eye the mess of glitter on your hands, trying to wipe it away, before you look back up at him. 

“you smell like detergent, sukuna.” you murmur, wrinkling your nose. 

his eyes go wide, an almost pink flush creeping up his neck as he shakes his head. he tries to change the subject

“why are you crying?” 

you heave, the tiredness sitting in your limbs as you frown at him. 

“sukuna, honey. i’m really tired and i…i just want to get into bed. just tell me why you smell like you rolled around in the laundry detergent for an hour.” 

you watch as sukuna pinches his lips in a line, before bring his hands down to lock them with yours. he lifts them briefly just to press a kiss on top of your knuckles, his eyes downcast, before he murmurs against them. 

“let’s get ready for bed. i’ll tell you, okay?” he murmurs. 

you give him an affirmative nod, the two of you shuffling around each other in the bedroom and bathroom as you wordlessly go through your routines. the two of you brush your teeth together, sukuna pulling a piece of floss for you, and sukuna carefully helps you change without sparing a second glance.

the smell of detergent is almost worse in the bedroom – overwhelming at first before your nose adjusts and you crawl under the sheets with sukuna. you watch as he swipes his shirt over his neck with one hand, necklace hanging loosely around his neck, as he digs one of his arms underneath you. 

sukuna leans over to your side, as he reaches for your hair and he twists one of the loose strands in his fingers. 

“your stupid thing didn’t go well?” 

you sigh. 

“no. i told yuuji i was dating you. guess it wasn’t the reaction i was expecting.” 

“you told him?” 

in the pale light, your eyes having adjusted to the darkness, you reach forward and press your fingers against his dimple. 

“course i did. i’m serious about you…and i don’t want to hide that.” 

sukuna can feel the sweet ache blooming in his chest, his eyes nearly squinting with a soft joy. 

“i just feel like it’s weird. i think they got used to my whole…personality being that guys treat me bad, that my love life is lame that…maybe they don’t know what to do when that doesn’t apply anymore.” you murmur. 

your palm is flesh against sukuna’s lips and he uses it as an opportunity to press a kiss to your skin. 

“and it’s not just them, i guess. i feel that to some extent too. i feel like…i held onto everything that happened and that it became a part of me. but now that i have no reason to feel that way and sometimes it feels like i don’t know anything. i don’t know what music to listen to because the sad songs don’t really hit anymore. spending time alone isn’t a curse, it’s actually really enjoyable sometimes. and it’s weird to try to figure out who i am when i’m not sad, especially when it feels like…people might not like me if i change.” 

it comes out quietly when sukuna says it. 

“i’ll love you regardless.” 

you hum in response, the words making your chest ache, as you lean forward and tuck yourself into his arms. you bring up one of your hands to his bare pecs and squeeze and you can hear the disdain in his scoff as you can’t help but quietly giggle. 

“i’m going to break your hands if you do that again.” 

“just so comforting, y’know? really helps me feel better.” 

“right. me telling you i’ll love you forever pales in comparison.” 

you smile.

“you said you’ll love me regardless. like you will, in the future. now you’re saying you’ll love me forever, which kind of insinuates that you do right now.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes, one of his warm hands enveloping your cheek. 

“do you want to hear me say it, brat?” 

you grin. 

“maybe a little.” 

your heart beats faster as you wait in anticipation, for the three words leaving his lips. 

“i love you, pretty girl.” 

sukuna watches as you smile wider, the sweetness in your face as you press a kiss to his lips. he can feel you smiling into him, your hands featherlike around his neck as you pull him closer. 

“i love you too, stinky.” 

“you ruined it.” sukuna groans. 

you press your cheek against his shoulder, before you mumble again.

“now tell me what happened with you today?” 

sukuna groans, before ghosting his hands under your his shirt. 

“princess.” 

“you could never say anything that i’d find weird, y’know? i’m never going to pass judgment on you, i just want to know so i can help you if need be.” you whisper. 

sukuna gives you a quiet nod, before talking. 

“i took every piece of clothing you had here and threw it in the laundry.” sukuna states. 

“huh?” 

that had to have taken hours. you’ve nearly transferred your entire wardrobe over here at this point. 

“you…you asked me to wash the sweater for your party. and i know that you take time to pick out your outfits and match your accessories and, and themed parties like this are like your shit or whatever.” 

his voice gets quieter. 

“i’d hate to think i ruined something for you, y/n.” 

“sukuna. it’s just a shi-” 

“it’s not just a shirt to me. because i’ll forget to wash your shirt but then i’ll be to tired to help you do dishes. won’t be able to tear myself from work to pick you up from school when you ask. forget to respond to your emails and become neglectful. i’d hate to have you be disappointed at me when i can’t do these things for you.” 

you’re quiet. you can tell that there’s something he’s trying to say, at the tip of his tongue, but he won’t let it go. 

“c’mon, baby. keep going for me?” you whisper. 

the gentleness in your voice feels like a promise. and maybe if there wasn’t something so intoxicating about baring himself to you, giving you his secrets to keep, he wouldn’t be so keen on doing it all the time. 

“i’ve disappointed my mom time and time again. been able to mediate fights between her and my dad, but barely control my temper at school. and yuuji – i know he needed me, but sometimes i was…it was too much for me that i couldn’t do it for him. i’ve failed them in more ways than one and i can’t do that with you. you…you have to be the exception when it comes to this.” 

the desolate tone in his voice is nearly enough to bring tears into your eyes as you tuck his head into your neck, his breaths labored, as you run your hands through his hair. 

“i…i can’t promise you that it won’t be weird. when i get like this, my mom would almost get pissed sometimes because i’d try to do everything to make it up to her. open the door for her, answer her phone. one time i even tried to make her drink water while i held the glass. i-i know it’s weird but i-” 

you dig your fingers into his scalp, feeling the pulsating near his temple. 

“okay, sukuna. i’ll be more than thankful if you decide to help me with the little things. but, sweetheart. please don’t think you have some debt against me. you don’t owe me anything.” 

“i know it’s not a normal habit and i-” 

“that’s not what i meant, sukuna. i know that you’re aware of that. but…but just let me say these things till they sink in for you, okay? you’re my boyfriend and that doesn’t mean you have to be the end all be all. i can wash my own shirts here and there and help you out too. i love that you want to be helpful honey, but lean on me too, okay?” 

sukuna feels small. not in the infantile, reductive kind of way. in the rare kind of ways he’s felt only a handful of times. like when he got sick and his mom had to take care of him. or when yuuji had to help him out by carrying his books after he broke his arm. 

“what’s that weird shit you told me about once? about the little you inside you or whatever?” 

“oh. an inner child?” 

“yeah.” 

“what about it?” you ask. 

“you just kind of…remind me of it sometimes.” sukuna states.

“in a good way or a bad way?” 

sukuna smiles. 

“good. sometimes i forget that’s in there. s’nice that you see that part of me. bring it out of me sometimes.” 

the earnestness almost makes you cry. you love him so much. 

“me too, baby.”

--

next part linked here

an: no one look at me. this is for me and me only. (the headspace goes crazy at the current moment) the next chapter gives me second hand embarrassment but also its for the plot so im excited

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani78 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[exhaslo]

Corruption

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Warning: Minors DNI, smut, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship?

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

Five months before D-Day

It was quiet. Something nearly unheard of in the city of Nueva York. Not even a whoosh of wind or a click of a heel could bring noise to this silent room. Especially not after the vulture of the lab had demanded everyone's silence.

You sat in the corner of the lab, quietly tapping against your tablet. You could not even hear another's breathing. That is how powerful the lead of this lab was when he demanded silence. That was how powerful-

"Miguel?" You whispered lowly.

Miguel O'Hara, otherwise known as Mike, due to his father's pestering nicknaming. Miguel O'Hara was the son of Alchemax's CEO, Tyler Stone, and the smartest scientist in the corporation. He was a man of power, and a man to be feared.

"This better be good, (Y/N)" He said with a hiss.

Oh, how you loved it when your name rolled off his tongue. If only he would have said it a little nicer. You raised your head from your tablet, looking ahead at the scene before you. A man, strapped onto a metal table with lights and strange liquid being entered into his blood. A twisted science experiment that never ended well.

Sometimes you questioned your job. You questioned how you found yourself seated as a secretary, recording each horrible experiment Miguel did. This was not for the faint of heart. You started working for Alchemax about two years ago thanks to a friend who helped you out of college.

You met Miguel a year ago, when you were assigned to be his personal assistant. Since, apparently, everyone else refused to take the job. Once you did your first report with him, you immediately found out why, but that wasn't going to stop you.

"According to my report, the subject purposely ate a peach before agreeing to this test." You explained.

"So?"

"So, the patient is allergic to peaches and is about to go into shock in a matter of minutes now." You huffed.

"Shouldn't affect the procedure."

Oh, how sometimes you wished you could enter Miguel's head and wonder what sick and twisted mind worked in there. Miguel was fascinated with genetic splicing. He always had a new test subject on his table once a week. He wanted to learn how to manipulate their DNA.

However, each experiment always ended in failure and death. The body count Miguel had was enough to lock him up a hundred times over. The man had not a single shred of humanity in him. It was always about the experiment.

"Begin,"

You rolled your eyes, wishing you could stop all of this. You had begged for a way to find the light in Miguel. How could someone so handsome be so evil? It almost made you sick the amount of times you had wet dreams about your monster of a boss.

"Another failure, sir. Perhaps we made a mistake-"

"I never make mistakes." Miguel hissed as he watched his now deformed monster patient lie dead on his table, "Get him out of my sight! Now!"

Right as you started to fill out your report, you noticed the patient's stomach start to inflate. You furrowed your brows before yelling out to everyone that the body was going to pop.

Your efforts were for not. Within the second, everyone in the room was covering in disgusting blood and body parts. You had wanted to throw up, but you did your best to hold it all in. Miguel was already throwing a fit about his lab being dirty, you didn't want to add to the mess.

----------

Once you were all cleaned, you made your way back to your office. You still had to finish your reports and send them over to Miguel for review. Miguel always demanded perfection. It was amazing how long you even lasted as his assistant. According to everyone, you were the more insane one.

"Oh, Miguel," You muttered, spotting the tall man in your office. Miguel lazily looked at you,

"Took you long enough," He spat. You placed your tablet down,

"Remember that time I told you that being a female requires more shower time?" You said with a smirk. Miguel scoffed as he placed himself onto your work couch, "Not even a smile," You huffed.

"Get working,"

"Yes, yes, oh chosen one." You teased once more.

The only thing that you could collectively agree on was that you were in love with the mad scientist. Giving Miguel a head massage, you stared down at his gorgeous face. You had been working with Miguel for a year. You knew what he liked, what he didn't like and how he worked.

It was safe to say that you were probably the only person in this whole building who understood Miguel. If only he wasn't evil. You would totally asked him out on a date long ago. Each passing day, you hoped that these feelings would go away.

"(Y/N), do my shoulders too," Miguel whispered in a low and sweet voice.

You folded far too easily. Doing what he asked, you knew that Miguel was using you. You had to be blind not to see that, but shit, you couldn't help it. That, and you physically could not quit your job. Both Miguel and his father made sure that no one would quit.

If you'd try, you'd be drugged.

Perhaps one day, you could bring this place to justice. You wanted Miguel to see the error of his ways. If there was any way to change Miguel to see the light, you would. Of course, taking Alchemax down was going to have to be the first step.

But, that was just a fleeting dream.

--------

Miguel inhaled deeply as you worked on his tense muscles. The only thoughts coursing through his mind were his experiments. How they could have been done differently. Perhaps he needed a different breed of test subjects.

"Let's resume our experiments with spiders," Miguel said with a low groan as you pinched just the right spot. He heard your small whine and scoffed, "We do this every other month."

"I know and you still torture me with it!" You cried softly, moving his to hair. Miguel closed his eyes, enjoying the massage,

"And as usual, I let you pick the next creature to study."

"A seahorse?"

Miguel resisted a chuckle since his first thought was getting males pregnant. How amusing that experiment would be, yet also horrifying. If he were to do that, then he would truly live up to his name as a mad scientist.

You had some dumb and ridiculous ideas. You weren't as smart as the rest of them and Miguel liked that. You were good for him to have around. Someone to remind him that there were those who were just dumb naturally. Of course, he could never say that to your face, or you would start crying.

"Like last time," He whispered ever so softly.

"Hm? Are you thinking rude things again?" You asked with a huff, gently pulling against his hair, "I can always stop this."

"But you won't." Miguel hummed and lazily opened his eyes, "Just be ready for tomorrow. I don't want another disappointment."

Getting himself ready to leave, Miguel fixed up his lab coat before giving you one last glance. He knew that you were attractive. Hell, he had to force his ignorant coworkers to get back to work since all they did was talk about wanting to date you.

Perhaps in another universe, where Miguel wasn't obsessed with his experiments, he would date you. Stepping out of your office, Miguel knew full well what he was doing. He got a rise knowing that he was keeping you all to himself.

Call it villainous, but Miguel enjoyed being selfish. That's how he always got what he wanted. Entering his private office, Miguel's eyes sparkled as he saw a case full of spiders.

"I'll make the perfect specimen, this I swear." He said with a wicked smirk.

----------

You squirmed in place, not ready to deal with today's experiment. You hated spiders. You wanted nothing to do with them, but Miguel loved them. He was so fascinated about the great hero age and about Spiderman.

Slowly making your way inside the lab, you gasped as scientists dashed past you. Everyone was running around in a panicked frenzy. Wondering what was happening, you gasped as you saw Miguel shaking with anger.

His spider enclosure was knocked over.

You wanted to jump and scream, but you knew that would only anger Miguel more. Hesitantly, you approached Miguel to try and distract him. As you did so, you felt something bite the back of your neck. You flinched and slapped your neck, praying that it was a mosquito.

You bit your lower lip, spotting a spider and nearly cried. Quickly shaking the foul creature away, you hurried to Miguel's side and gently tugged on his sleeve. Miguel hissed as he turned towards you violently,

"WHY AREN'T Y-Oh, (Y/N)," He growled. You were still biting your lower lip, glancing away from him,

"I know now isn't the best time, but why don't we-"

"Whatever it is, let's go while these fucking IDIOTS find my spiders," Miguel roared in anger.

You just nodded, leading Miguel out of the room as you quietly prayed for your fellow coworkers. Miguel was not going to let them rest until all of his spiders were found...including the one you just murdered.

"Why don't you tell me what you were going to work on while we go to lunch? I think a meal break would help," You suggested, tapping away on your tablet. Miguel stroked his hand through his hair, cussing lowly in Spanish,

"Sounds like a plan."

You smiled as you led Miguel to your lunch destination. You were proud to say that whenever Miguel was going to have a meltdown, you were able to calm him down someway or another. Call it talent, but you loved being reliable.

However, that talent seemed to be failing you now. You couldn't keep focus during lunch and Miguel seemed to be getting annoyed. You weren't sure what was happening to you, but your body felt like it was on fire. Could it have been from the spider bite?

"Sorry, Miguel...I just...need to..." You whispered before collapsing.

-----------

Miguel was growing irritated as he watched you waver in place. You were fine just a moment ago. If there was one thing Miguel hated, it was when someone lost interest in his conversation. This had never happened to you, so why now?

Right as you stood, you immediately came tumbling down. Like instinct, Miguel caught you and noticed that you had a fever. A small scoff escaped his lips as he carried you out of the restaurant and back into his company car.

"Take us to (Y/N)'s apartment. Fool got herself sick,"

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

Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content

[ventique18]

~ Related to my previous reblog

~ Malleus and his unorthodox leadership style

@hanafubukki perfectly described how Malleus tends to blame and overstretch himself to make up for others' shortcomings. I also noticed that this tendency also reflects on his leadership style.

At this point, it's common knowledge to players that Malleus isn't exactly the best housewarden in NRC. This is actually also addressed by Riddle in Twst's Savanaclaw novel. He is incredibly charismatic and his followers know to trust in him completely and follow his lead, but his style is not ideal.

I'd like to reiterate the not ideal part. It's not ideal because it's not the standard for leadership that we're used to. He's not like Riddle who would scold his members for not studying the day before an exam, nor is he like Vil who proactively curates his members' skincare routine so they'd look their best for a photoshoot. In fact, he is not a preventive type of leader; he's more of a corrective one.

As a king-to-be, he deeply respects that every single person has a role that they have to fulfill, and he expects that his dorm members already know what to do and how to do it correctly. He doesn't like to interrupt when they're doing their roles because he trusts in them completely, but in the event that something indeed goes wrong, he feels like it's his role to put everything back to their right places because he's responsible for every action that his domain does. As if every single person in his house is one of his limbs, and if something goes off, then the blame is simply on him, the head. And that's why there's no "I cannot do this" for him; he is always their last bastion and he can't fail their established belief that in his presence, everything is well.

This is both a relief and a sort of pressure on them. Because Diasomnia works eerily close to a religion, they're always assured that they have a god to solve all their problems when the going gets tough. At the same time, Diasomnia members are always pressured to do everything correctly, just because it would reflect badly on their god if they don't.

Malleus himself is not pressuring them though; in fact he believes that failure is an important part of learning, just like how he tells you in alchemy classes to fail as often as you must--because he's there to support you all the way. He has always been kind and understanding to others. It's to himself that he's not so kind to. After all, when the last bastion falls, it's game over.

[anananass]

NSFW Wriothesley x F!Reader ~ ”Don’t be shy”

warning: nsfw

Tags: creampie, begging, praising, rough sorta? Just him being so hot and good istfg!! And probably some other things. He is sweet jesus

summary: the Duke notices you want him to fuck you with a little more spice (it’s 3 am and I do not know what Im doing)

wc: 1,2k

“Don’t be shy, tell me what you want princess.” The Duke’s hoarse toned words sent shivers down your spine. The sole fact he had been deepening himself inside your soaked folds for the past 20 minutes didn’t help but cause more trouble to you, so much that you slipped a rushed pant as you thought more and more of what you wanted.

Truth be told, you weren’t subtle at all with your desire to feel his hands roam around your stomach until finally gripping you to stay in place. You wanted him to handle you that way so badly but with the way he was ramming inside you, it was so much harder to voice your boiling yearning.

Still, attentive as he usually is, and perhaps a little too infatuated with the sight of you taking him so well, he was quick to notice your body language was gradually changing. Your motions, your squirming beneath him and the way you eyed his rough hands every time they’d move mere inches close to your stomach, it was all there. At first, he took it as nothing more than admiration, a gesture you always do every time he is on top and taking good care of you, however, this time felt different.

Maybe it was the prolonged eye contact you kept and the lustful whiff you gave off, but it didn’t matter anymore. He got the idea as soon as he lingered a pressured digit against the sensitive skin above his favorite area. No matter the case, if that was what you wanted, he would gladly provide, definitely not because he too found that idea as intriguing as you.

To encourage you, he began running his fingers down your chest, further lowering them to your stomach. He even gave you a playful wink followed by another thrust of his member.

Despite that, you still found difficulty in telling him and instead whimpered, hopeful he’d proceed with your wish but this was Wriothesley we are talking about. As much as it made him happy to spoil you, he wanted to hear that sweet beg come out of your pretty, fleshy lips.

The Duke’s lips’ corners curled into a mischievous smile, and upon pressing a forceful yet slow thrust inside you, he leaned closer to you. “Come on, tell me what you want.” He urged you nonchalantly whilst steadily rubbing himself against you despite his deeply buried member. “I want to hear you ask for it.” A faint groan slipped his honey-layered mouth and with it, prolonged eye contact followed.

He was making things so much difficult but at the same time, the lack of friction was making you go crazy, so much that you searched for it yourself. An obvious failure since he was doing nothing but chuckling in your face.

“I want you to grip my waist.” You finally uttered the words now that there was nothing to make you whine like a needy little mess. Your voice was barely above a whisper, and dear god the effect that had on him.

Hearing you ask for that in such a normal yet suave manner had his length pulse within your warm insides. It pushed you to gasp loudly given the slight vibration hit a good spot.

Wriothesley’s eyes widened with pure satisfaction, the tint of lust and adoration growing larger and larger in them. You couldn’t comprehend just how much that was driving him wild, but to your surprise, a simple request wouldn’t be enough. You couldn't just request he does something without stating what should be the consequence of that action.

“And do what?” His grace poked at you more and to add more tension, he rubbed himself against you one more time. It was unbelievable.

“Go wild.” You cried out, shuddering from all the euphoria he was denying you. You were so desperate that you grabbed his arms and dug your nails into his biceps, running your nails down to his forearms until there were red lines all over him.

That was all he needed from you. Oh, what a good girl you were, too good for him. With that, the Duke let out a groaned chuckle after which he lifted his body. You watched him gently placing his hands around your waist, and without any notice, felt his grip tightening around your sides.

“Good Girl.” is the praise that left his mouth before he started pumping in and out again, but with his hands effortlessly holding your body in place so you don’t move from all the force propelling you farther from him.

It was crazy, you could feel him hit it much differently than usual. It was as if his tip was hitting an inner wall that you had no idea about. A sensation so addictive that you began moaning louder and louder with each fierce thrust shoved inside your dripping cunt. But you weren't the only one enjoying this wild ride. The motions were equally addictive to him too, so much so that whenever he felt himself slap a little too hard against your slick folds, he wanted to go even harder.

He was so lost in the momentum that he didn’t know where to pay attention, your lower taking his throbbing length deeper than normal, your breasts jiggling upward and downward thanks to the pressure he was putting in, or you rolling back your eyes as you grabbed the mattress underneath you. So many sights for him to feed himself with, it was unfair. Oh, if he could see all of them simultaneously, he would be the luckiest guy in Fontaine, if not the entire world. But he had to decide on one.

Yet, once you arched your back and wailed in hunger for more, he let out a guttural groan run between his clenched fangs. From that moment on, his icy gaze stood fixed on you, on the emotions that were running through you.

His breath was shaky as his movements turned quicker and sloppier. His heart beat wildly as his arousal reached new heights. His member pounded harder the more your walls squeezed him. His grip tightened until his nails were dug deep inside your flesh, and upon feeling him clutch you way too intensely, you shouted in both pain and bliss. He couldn’t carry this any longer, and neither could you take it in anymore.

The Duke growled as he felt his fast-approaching climax reach its peak, and coincidentally enough, before he came undone, you convulsed underneath him.

Trembling in pure bliss, you bobbed your head back and called out for him whilst desperately grasping his hands in the final moments of your arrival. He wanted to keep fucking you during your orgasm but the sweet noises were too much for him to handle, thus causing him to fill you with his warm fluids.

“Fuck.” the moan slipped his lips as he too bobbed his head back right after feeling his seed flow deep inside. Soon enough, he looked back at you, flashing his favorite parts one final look before he could rest by your side.

Upon hearing him curse through his teeth, you chuckled to yourself and slumped to the bed, unable to move an inch or say anything more. Not that you needed to. After all, you did so well.

A soft smile grew on Wrio’s face as he noticed how you were slowly drifting away into a sleep.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Old love never rusts. Shanks has to face that truth when he meets again the husband of the girl he almost had.]

Shanks's version | Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Shanks knows he has no right to ask this question. Not when he's the one that up and left in the middle of the night, without even a word of warning that could soothe your aching heart. Nevertheless, he can't help but indulge his yearning:

"How is she?"

Mihawk raises his eyebrows barely noticeably. He seems surprised that after Shanks's disappearing act and a decade of dead silence, he's still interested in you, even if motivated by pure courtesy. But before Mihawk answers the question, he notices something strange in the red-haired captain's eyes, a sensation he's rarely seen in them before - sadness.

Interesting, how some things never quite change.

"Well," Mihawk answers laconically. Instead of indulging Shanks's lovesick longing, he wishes the man would finally accept his utter failure and move on. You're married to Dracule and this isn't going to change anytime soon. If ever.

"Wells tend to be cold and musty," Shanks jokes but his tone is far from lighthearted. In fact, his voice sounds strained like he's holding back tears. "I hope she fared better with you."

The Red-Hair pirates laugh at their captain's joke but quickly turn quiet again. Something about the tense confrontation makes their good humour virtually nonexistent. Especially when Mihawk gives them a curt, cold glare. He doesn't find his past rivalry with Shank to be funny in any way.

"She has everything she could ask for," he says with a sense of finality to his words. Mihawk feels himself growing irritated.

"Good, good..." Shanks nods, lost in thought for a moment. He clenches his hand, giving away the unpleasant tension inside his chest. The captain has promised himself to let go of you. Alas, here we are. "Is she happy?" he suddenly asks.

Mihawk furrows his thick eyebrows in an angry frown. It's almost insulting for Shanks to have any doubts regarding your well-being under the Warlord's care. "What sort of question is this?"

"A 'yes or no' sort."

"Then yes," he drones his words.

Shanks forces a wide, playful smile. There's agony hiding in his eyes and as though Mihawk is a blind man, he's trying to play it cool and appear unaffected. The truth is, the red-haired man is holding on by a thread.

"I bet she talks about me all the time," Shanks says in faux amusement. His voice almost doesn't shake. "We both know I've always been her favourite."

"And you'd lose." Mihawk begins to feel an insidious satisfaction from the distress of the other man. "In fact, I doubt she thinks about you at all."

"You keep telling yourself that, hawk-eyes."

"This misguided flattery is much unwarranted," Mihawk warns him. "No one bets on losing dogs."

But she would, Shanks thinks to himself. She always did.

Short fingernails leave bruising marks on the inside of Shanks's palm as he's clenching his fist. Once again he's reminded that when it mattered, he was a coward and fled from the overwhelming, crippling love he feels for you. Only know there's no hope, there's no ifs - you belong to another man.

Afternoon sunlight reflects off of Mihawk's gold ring. Shanks glares at it for a moment too long to pass off his intense stare as circumstantial. He can almost hear the mocking laughter of the universe as the consequence of the amalgamation of his bad choices is merely two meters away from him. There is nothing he wouldn't give up to turn back the time and make sure that things go differently, that he never became afraid of being too deep in love.

But time, like the seas, has no master.

_____

I was so torn about this one, I couldn't decide until the very end, so if you want to read a version where the scenario is flipped and Shanks is the 'lucky guy', just hit me up.

[erissheiress]

Lonely Anymore

The Inner Circle x Reader

Warnings: depression, mentions of feeling numb, mention of blood and crying, alcohol, platonic intimacy, mentioned Feyre, Elain and Nesta, reader doesn't like Nesta and Elain bc I dont lol. Repost from my main blog.

Summary: You need your family, and they need you.

Word count: 782

Taglist: 

* * *

The window was wide open, harsh gusts of wind blowing into the room, disrupting papers on the desk and blowing your hair into your face, stinging your skin and making your eyes water.

Yet, you hardly seemed to notice the biting cold that struck your skin, hardly flinching, or moving from where you sat on the armchair, legs folded and arms around your knees, hugging them close to your chest. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands, nearly drawing blood, but again, it attracted none of your attention.

Your eyes were dull, dark bags under your eyes, from exhaustion mostly. Tears had streamed down your cheeks earlier but not anymore, you simply had no tears left to give to the world, nothing more you could offer.

You had given this world your blood, sweat and tears, your love and your dreams, and in return it had given you the one thing you always lacked;

A family.

The Inner Circle.

It had started with Rhys, Cassian, Azriel, and Mor. Then Amren, then Feyre. Nesta and Elain joined then, though you didn't like them very much, but that was possibly because of how they treated your High Lady, and finally baby Nyx, the newest, and your favourite, member of the family.

So the world gave you a family, and a chance of being loved.

But that was never going to be all, was it? It seemed that the world wasn't quite finished with you yet

No, it gave you hate as well as love, fear as well as joy, pain as well as care. 

It caused your dreams to turn to nightmares, your hopes to failures, your youthful innocence to turn to hardened pessimism. 

You're not sure when you stopped feeling like you were part of the family, perhaps it was over Solstice? Solstice where you sat in the corner as Feyre and Rhys cuddled Nyx in front of the fire, as Nesta and Cassian playfully bickered while Azriel and Elain laughed at their banter, as well as Mor who happily danced in the centre of the room, swinging a bottle of wine around like a weapon.

And you.. you just sat there, nursing your own wine, suddenly feeling lonelier than you had ever felt before. As you watched them each be happy in their own ways, a weight settled on your chest, and had stayed there ever since.

You did your job, played an active role as a member of the Night Court, but distanced yourself as well. They didn't seem to notice, only little Nyx, who crawled onto your lap one evening and poked your cheek, a frown on his adorable face.

"Sad"

"I'm not sad, Nyxie."

But he only frowned even more. "sad" before planting a wet kiss on your chin. "Happy."

"Yes darling, your kisses make me very happy."

Babies were so easy to satisfy.

So now you sat alone in your room, on an uncomfortable chair, without warm clothes, while the winter air froze your body, yet not bothering you at all.

You didn't feel anything, just numb.

You didn't feel anything when the window closed suddenly, or when footsteps entered the room. 

You didn't feel anything when strong arms lifted you to your bed, or when calloused hands stroked your hair softly. 

Or when four other figures clambered into the bed with you, three Illyrian males and one female. 

You only felt something when the blonde smoothed your hair out of your face and looked at you with the softest expression you had ever seen on her face.

"We love you, you know that right?" and you felt it all of a sudden, like a wave of emotion. Overwhelming you completely. 

You'd learn later that Azriel lay closest to you, and it was him that carried you to the bed and held you so snugly, that it was Cassian who stroked your hair so softly and it was Rhysand who shut the windows, using his abilities to heat your frigid room. 

You'd learn all this later but for now you let it out like a burst dam, as you sobbed into Azriel's chest, three other pairs of hands comforting you in some way, the best way they could. 

Your family.

A 5th figure, a shorter female slipped in at one point, taking a protective position at the end of the bed, comforting you the only way she knew how, and was appreciated nonetheless. 

You loved Feyre, and Elain and Nesta were part of the circle now too, but for now you needed your first family, and they mentally vowed to spend as much time as possible convincing you that they needed you too. 

That they needed you, that they loved you, that you were important to them, and that they'd always be there for you.

That you didn't have to be lonely anymore.

[lazycats-stuff]

Another request, hope it’s not bad.

But batbro!reader who was raised to be perfect. Who’s older than Damian bur younger than Tim. But I was thinking maybe Bruce and readers mum have split custody and his mum is very demanding, the reader doing things like music and ballet (I just love dancing bc I was a dancer) and their mum pushes them to be perfect, in that and schoolwork and belittles then if it’s not perfect.

Like they are worse than most of the family, not sleeping and always studying or pushing his body to the limits with practice.

The family is going to a dancing competition for Cassandra and the reader is performing but they don’t know, reader not getting first place and they see how his mother reacts badly, maybe belittling the reader, their reaction maybe.

Hope it makes sense, if you are uncomfortable with it dw🫶. I’ve seen so many assassin or killer ones.

Oh I hate those types of parents... Thankfully, my parents are not like this... Thanks mom and dad. Also, not a dancer so any inaccuracies are on me. Also, I don't know why this is so short???

Summary: (Y/N)'s mom is awful. Bruce finds out.

Warnings: the mom is awful, belittling, the fam is not having it and neither is the author, verbal abuse

Standards are important in life. With the said standards you choose important things in life. Partners are one of the most important thing you need to choose by your standards, but there is no such thing as perfection. There is no such thing as being a perfect person in anything you can do.

Everyone makes mistakes.

But that's something that (Y/N)'s mother doesn't seem to understand. Both her and Bruce taught her that it's important to have standards. But they had different approaches.

(Y/N)'s mom wanted nothing more than perfection. Bruce only wanted (Y/N) to give him his best. And with sharing custody with his mother made things far more difficult for the teen. Bruce noticed how tired he was and how he looked like he was on the verge of sleeping every single time he sees (Y/N).

But the mom couldn't care less. She wanted her son to be perfect. And if he didn't achieve what she had in mind? Well, he would get grounded and shouted at.

(Y/N) didn't even want to remember all the insults she screamed at him over the years. He doesn't want to remember the fact that she was his mother. But he knew that the custody agreement wouldn't change.

They always favor the mothers rather than fathers.

The only thing where he could let go of those insults and thoughts was ballet. It was his biggest passion and it was supported by both his mother and Bruce. Bruce always tried to come on every single recital that (Y/N) had and he was always the loudest person in there.

However, (Y/N) was competing against his adopted sister Cassandra. (Y/N) didn't tell them, because his mom didn't want Bruce to know. She was often like that, trying to rob Bruce of a lot of things. (Y/N) didn't like that at all, but he couldn't go against her.

After Cassandra was finished, (Y/N) saw that he had a good competitor. He stretched behind in the wings, getting himself mentally ready.

He would really have to reach deep inside himself in order to win.

(Y/N) was happy with how he did and now they waited for the awards. Cassandra and (Y/N) knew that it would be a tight race for the first place.

One thing that he didn't expect to hear was that he got second place. He smiled, but his gut dropped. Oh no. No. Not happening. This can't be happening.

He accepted the award with a smile, but he could see him mom in the crowd. She was fuming. He looked to look at his father, who was smiling at him, showing him a thumbs up. That was a little bit comforting.

After they have finished, he changed into the normal clothes. He took a deep breath as he saw his mother.

" Second place? Do you know how you embarrassed I am? " She whispered harshly. Bruce congratulated Cassandra and then walked towards the duo.

" You are a failure. " She said and Bruce saw red. Not happening.

" (Y/N)? Please go to your brothers. " Bruce said, a tight smile on his face.

The said brothers were glaring at (Y/N)'s mother, ready to give her the piece of their mind. They welcomed (Y/N), saying that he did a good job. (Y/N) nodded, but he didn't really believe it.

Bruce was chewing his mom out and said that that he will have full custody of his son. No child of his will be berated.

" Hey (Y/N), you are going to stay with me from now on. " Bruce said, hugging his son.

" What about mom? " (Y/N) asked.

" Don't worry about her. I don't want you to go back to her. I don't want you to go through the abuse. And as soon as I can, I will file for full custody. Nobody deserves to be abused like that.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere male Areal??

Yandere Genderbend Ariel x Reader

Well, what were you supposed to say when you saw some girl come out of the water singing with a shell on her neck? But for your parents, it was perfect grounds to leave you with a forced 'apology gift' of being the head planner for their wedding ceremony. You felt it was ironic that was your 'punishment' when your the king and queen spent a whole day with your sister being hypnotized and hadn’t noticed–but whatever. You didn’t mind and in the end, Erica admitted she never blamed you. You’d do this not only to get your parents off your back but for your sister even if her groom was a hopeless case.

“No Arrel! Don’t put that in your mouth!“

“But it looks just like–”

“It doesn’t belong there! Spit. It. Out.”

Perhaps this was why they didn’t bother, they knew you’d have a hard time educating the merprince. Since his negotiated stay for the wedding and there on a switch occurred: while the prince is on land the princess navigates the sea. It was Triton’s final stipulation, her only way to test and know the woman meant to take away her darling boy.

“How is he fairing?”

“Your Highness…he’s got a ways to go…”

You lifted your shoulders up as you moved your hands like a seesaw. Facing the magical reflection of the Queen of Atlantica, who twirled her trident and stroked her braid.

“Ah I know that tone…my Arrel is so much like his father…a little scatterbrained, yes but his heart was always in the right place.”

Surrounded by smile lines she reminisced with a sad fondness. You admired the ruler, even if she might’ve hated your family in the beginning. But just as any human would she cared about family and that was more uniting than anything. 

“Speaking of, how’s my sister? Not giving you too much trouble I hope?”

Triton chuckled, “Oh no she’s been a dream and a fast learner too!”

“Ah, that's good.”

“She says she misses you.”

You playfully scoffed, ”That softy, of course, she’d say that.”

Talking late into the night, you both exchanged the highlights of your family’s adventures. Snickering to one another as you laugh at their failures, playfully jesting with one another about them. But the night was drawing to a close and with yawns from you, you moved to make your departure.

“Oh (Y/n), before you go–I have a bit of advice for you when training Arrel?”

“Oh?”

____________________________________________________

“Alright, Arrel we’re going to try something a little different today.”

“Uughhhh! Is this new thing going to be how I’m supposed to move these feet!? All day these tu-ders have been making me use them and I’m just tired of it!”

“Oh? That’s too bad, we were going to walk into town–”

“LET’S GO!”

Hopping giddily on the feet he claimed to exhaust minutes ago, he followed you to the prepared carriage ready to take you both into town. Bouncing his knees and smashing his face into the window to look at the surrounding greenery. Tapping twice at the wood above you the carriage rolled to a stop just outside the town. The redhead tilted his head at you following eagerly as you stepped out and waved the carriage off. 

“Today you’re going to explore the town for yourself.”

“Myself? Like I pick where we walk!?”

“Yes, yes I’m just here if you have any questions. So where first princey?”

He excitedly intertwined his hand with yours before darting off in a clumsy run. Dashing through the marketplace as he searched for a specific stall. When he found it he released you stopping abruptly, naturally leaving you to smash into his back. Steadying yourself you walked beside him as he excitedly smiled at the stand.

“I want those things!”

“Things? Do you mean the apples?”

“Ah-pulls? Is that the red rocks?”

“They’re fruit, and their called–A-pples.”

“Aaaahhhh-pulls?”

Paying for the fruit would be the first of Arrel’s many souvenirs that he gained throughout his field trip. The lesson was more engaging and fruitful than anything you had tried before. Exercising new vocabulary and practicing the right platitudes when speaking with others, Arrel was learning so much. Watching the mer-prince’s mind racing with excitement as he truly came to learn what life as a human was like. You could understand why Erica fell so fast.

“Ah the uhm–sun, is settling, right?”

“Close enough. We’re allowed to be out a little bit longer if you want but if you’re tired–”

“Hmmm, I want to go to one last place! Is that okay (Y/n)? “Yup but where do you want to go?”

“I can’t think of the word uh just come with me!”

Once again weaving your fingers with his own he pulled you away from the populated streets of the town. Taking you to a place that sparked a forlorn nostalgia in its discovery. The grotto. As you helped Arrel who was trying to recall the actions of Erica to send you out on the boat, you let the memories of the place run wild. 

“Come on (Y/n)! I found this cool place where I can be the captain!”

“Okay okay! Wait for me *huff huff* I have tiny legs.”

Just like before you let eager hands take the handles of the paddles from you, in order to enjoy the way the reflecting light shines in their eyes. Letting you sit back to see the beauty in their dreams flash in their eyes. 

Arrel was no different than Erica.

Beautifully smiling as your boat floats into the blue lagoon. It was a gem, that no doubt was the catalyst of many romances. Drifting from under the rising moon to the roof of the willow tree’s branches, entering a world of flora and fauna. Firefly lights illuminated the space giving a magical glow to space; you’d be concerned if you didn’t fall in love. 

“...Isn’t it fantastic? Those eels got in the way last time but now…this is perfect!”

Arrel mumbled to himself to which you tilted your head.

“Uhm Arrel wouldn’t it really be perfect if you were back here, with Erica?”

“...Well yeah…but I don’t know it feels right like back then!”

“Arrel…is this feeling awe?”

"Awww?"

“Awe. Like you’re enamored with nature and feel of this place.”

“Mmmh that sounds right!”

“But do you realize how that sounds when–ugh forget it you probably don’t even notice anyway.”

You quieted after that and enjoyed the orchestra of croaking frogs and crickeys. Gingerly reclaiming the paddles when Arrelbegan to dangerously slump against the boat. With great coaxing, you returned to the entrance of the lagoon and scheduled for the carriage ride home. 

This would be the first of many new adventures into the town. Triton encouraged a more rewarding type of learning for his son whose attention was short for study but active for his curiosity. And it had become quite the brag to have the prince whine through his other lessons to attend your own. So in between you’re days spent organizing the intricacies of the wedding, you were taking Arrel into the town. On particularly busy days you did try assigning Grimsey to be his chaperone but the prince wouldn’t budge; instead, he spend his day clinging to your leg. Sullying your pant leg with his tears he refused to commit to his outings if you weren’t the one guiding him.

Other than that little hiccup, it was smooth sailing. Magically calling Triton as you both gushed about your respective students. As the days counted by the glorious day of the wedding was surging forth and you along with everyone else were on cloud 9. 

It would be a glorious day.

____________________________________________

The news came as quick as a light shower. Lightly washing over the freshly painted smile on your face. Leaving an incredulous daze to take place as you could only tentatively look at the greyed sky.

“W-what?!”

“Erica…is dead.”

Perhaps it was because you hadn’t seen the body. Maybe that was why you didn’t immediately cry; you didn’t believe it. The princess–-your sister was supposed to return today. Return to her post on land to prepare for the big day. To whine in your ear about all her worries and woes as you fitted her gown for the overeating she most definitely did while in Atlantica. She and Arrel would have been squealing and twirling one another as though they’d been apart for years.

They ruled it an accident. Pure coincidence that the second she had been given her legs and ran to your parents she wobbled, clutched at her chest, and collapsed. A heart failure…an underlying condition she must have been secretly stoking with her hunger for adrenaline. A horrible match really. 

The king and queen weren’t the only ones to witness the sight, Arrel was there as well. Having slipped past an adamantly guarding Grimsey to hug his beloved fiancee. Slowing his run when he found that her reaching out to him was not in welcome but in a reluctant farewell. Triton looking horrified from the safety of the sea, not only witnessed the fragility of humans firsthand but the terror it brought her baby boy.

Both kingdoms were thrown in disarray. The ones on land were rightfully devastated as the white decor became black with mourning. Those in the water did their own preparations longing not only for the loss of a new friend but of the uncertainty this meant. War? Forever severed ties between kingdoms? Atonement? Nothing was set in stone, even the status of Prince Arrel was a tempest gray. So overcome with grief he refused his mother and brothers when they begged him to come home.

“No…I won’t….not when…she’s gone.”

Your parents, too consumed in their own grief and the state of the kingdom to give nothing but tearful remarks to the prince. So it was up to you. Up to you to chaperone the fish out of the water with a new lesson. A grim one. All about continuing on if only in reverence of those beyond. 

“Do…you not have funerals in Atlantica?”

“Barely…we live…long…healty lives…”

You dryly laughed, looking past your veil at the lowering coffin.

“Heh, guess we just aren’t meant to last that long.”

Arrel looked at you noting the salted water streaming down your face and the way your lips curved the opposite of their usual state. He did what he saw others do: wrapping his arms around you, subconsciously curling into the warmth you provided. 

Living humans were so much warmer. 

He found that to be true when he awoke in the same position behind you in Erica’s bed. You couldn’t sleep, trudging through the halls into her room.  Grazing your fingers along the untouched relics of her past. Shining brightly under the stream of the moonlight’s beams was Erica’s bed. So undisturbed it made you hesitate to ruin it even in your tired state. But in your mind was the memory of a younger Erica reaching out to you from her bed as she looked longingly at the sea.

“(Y/n), come come. I’m always happy to have you in bed with me. Cozy up with your big sis every once in a while…”

So with her voice and smile replaying in your clouded mind you curled into her bed. Shuffling under her comforter, smelling the faint remnants of her presence within the sheets. Unshed tears collected in your lashes as you succumbed to much-needed sleep. Completely unaware of the prince with a similar yearning. Tired and consumed with grief he saw no problem with shoving his nose into the crook of your neck as he curled himself around you. 

You smelt nice. 

Not the same as Erica but comforting all the same.

He’d spend many nights completing this ritual. Having waking moments that led to joining you in Erica’s bed. Waking together with the comfort of one another's heat before silently encouraging one another to eat. Even when you no longer found yourself needing to go to Erica’s room, Arrel still found himself waking up beside you. 

It didn’t feel right not to at this point. 

______________________________________________

As your debilitating depression became something manageable you found yourself able to offer your guidance to the rest of the castle. Becoming a figurehead as the only remaining heir and one of the few able to look logically through this season in the kingdom. 

“(Y/n)...my baby…we worry that with this incident the kingdom has fallen behind in their affairs…”

“Truthfully we’d rather devastate ourselves than put you in this position–”

“Right, this is only if it’s alright with you…if you’d even consider it. Its a big responsibility–”

“Mother Father, please. Tell me what does the kingdom need?”

Letting out a shaky sigh she continued, “With this–no doubt severed connection with the sea kingdom it's best that we start looking to wed suitors with nearby kingdoms…”

You nodded. It was expected—that the next course of action was to reach for security. Even with the contact established for Triton attempting to speak with a distraught Arrel it wasn’t a situation to debate. Already having to dissuade the misinformed conspirators that were insistent that it was the mer-population fault along with the general instability of the kingdom. You were prepared for this, as you’d been raised to. 

“I will begin looking at suitors two days from now.”

“S-so soon?!” 

“We might as well move fast while all the preparations for a wedding remain. Not to mention this is for the kingdom, right your Highnesses?”

“Y-yes!”

“T-thank you, (Y/n)! We’ll begin preparing right away!” 

When you exited the room you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Swallowing a silent plea you deeply inhaled and exhaled, holding your head high as you made your way through the castle. There was much to be done and no one needed a moping leader. 

Unbeknownst you a certain bird was intently listening through an open window. 

_______________________________________________________

When the day came, you fought the turmoil in your tummy as you let yourself be dolled up. Settling in the comfort of the garden for the suitors to give their impressionable first meeting. At the sound of the bell, the speed dates interviews would begin. With cups full of tea you would let various royal suitors talk you up about their many ventures. After a day full of bragging and insincere condolences as they attempted to capture you’re attention. Taking note of the least hated potentials, you sighed but nodded for the maid to call in the last suitor. Keeping your eyes on the cold ceramic you prepared yourself for the final interview.

“You look…tired.”

Your eyes snapped up to meet the sullen blues of a familiar redhead. Dressed in the pink drawstring blouse and matching pants, he looked the most put together since the funeral. 

“...Arrel?”

“Do we have to stay at this…venue?” 

Visibly trying the word on his tongue he smiled at you. Hand outstretched to you with the eyes of a mature prince. Torn between familiarity and proper etiquette you take his hand. Letting him lead you through your own castle to the entrance where a carriage was waiting. Helping you in first, you let Arrel tap the roof of the carriage starting an unknown route. 

You didn’t bother speaking, finding that more was understood when nothing was said at all. Resting into the cushion of the seat you barely registered the familiar buildings and stalls being passed by. Sitting up to look at the waving citizens of the town.

“Are we-?”

You didn’t bother finishing, turning to look at Arrel who was lightly smiling as he looked out the opposite window. 

When the carriage stopped it was at the man-marked dock of the blue lagoon. A simple wooden boat tied and awaiting you and Arrel as its passengers. Once again hand-in-hand he pulled you along seating you in the boat before pushing away. Discretely making eye contact with the coachman and guard who briefly tilted their hat to you; you assured that this was planned. 

He paddled efficiently moving past the light current of the water to re-enter the willow’s cove. The moon was far from full instead the light was that of a small crescent. Letting firefly light bring dramatic shadows to his otherwise bright face. His darkened eyes remained on you, for the most part, harvesting an intensity unfamiliar to you. It kept you quiet for the most part, waiting until he spoke.

“My Father died, prematurely too.”

“...I’m sorry?”

“It was a human ship, you know. What you’d call Pie-rats?”

“Pirates.”

“Right. Well, they were the ones who killed him. He was…supposed to live longer.”

He was looking into the murky waters below, unglowing, and seemingly blacker than the night sky. The look was distant and foreboding, a widened terror to them that reminded you of a fear you would have felt during the news of a lost-at-sea Erica. You spoke if only to bring him back but it didn’t seem to sway him.

“Arrel.”

“But it's not like all humans are bad…heck I’m sure I’d be just as bad if nature hated me the same way!”

“E-excuse me?”

“Don’t you know that (Y/n)?”

He looked to you this time. Turning away from the edge of the boat directly to you, face distorted in a way you couldn’t behold. The darkness of nature made it worse only giving you a glimpse of the grieved madness swirling in his eyes—the blueness exchanged for a black substitute unmoving from you as he spoke. 

“I’m sure humans were supposed to live as long as us mermaids, you know? B-but if you look at Erica and anyone else in that town’s graveyard it's obvious that's just the same case for you!”

“Arrel!”

Something about how he said her name, rubbed you the wrong way. Eager to stop, what had to be a mental breakdown, you leaned forward gripping the collar of his shirt. Pulling him close to your face as you tried to search his eyes. 

“Arel stop it! D-don’t try to compare our lifespans to yours…this is just what you sign up for when you decide to love a human…”

You released him in order to nurse the burning in your eyes. Sinking back into your seat you used your sleeves, scolding yourself in the darkness. Fleeting lights of the fireflies hardly let you see your own sleeves, as you sniveled. So focused on yourself it didn’t matter at the time that he smiled into his hand before giving a muffled dry laugh.

“I guess you’re right… it's my fault for falling in love with a human right? Heh, heh then if Its all my fault I should fix it right?”

“W-what?!”

“Right (Y/n)?! I’m going to fix it! You’ll let me won’t you!?”

“W-wait?! W-what!?”

He moved fast, stabilizing himself on the sides of the boat. Moving closer to you until you could feel the boat shake with its weight. Letting his knee stabilize himself in between your legs as he leaned in close. Nose and breath fanning against you’re own it scared you even more that you couldn’t see his face. 

“I know where the sea wizard’s lair is and he has loads of knick-knacks for keeping humans alive.”

“H-hold on–?”

“I could even turn you into a mermaid! Per-man–ent-ly!”

“Ar-”

“Or-? I could turn everyone into a mermaid then you’d have to live longer right?” 

“Arrel!”

You tried to push him away stopping when the boat shook too much, making you tuck your arms against your person as he moved his hands to your seat. He tucked his head against your head, nuzzling into you as he wrapped his arms around you. Practically uncaring of the instability of the boat.

“You’ll pick me.” 

He let his lips graze along your ear. Shuddering you fruitlessly attempted to move, failing.

“What?!”

“To marry. You’re going to marry me. I’ll be keeping you alive one way or another.”

“Arrel, you can’t–”

“I will and if that means making you like me that’s fine….Otherwise, I’ll just do it to everyone too! Then you can live forever like me!”

[littlemissfiore]

Plan Failed!

prompt: your crush starts dating someone else. in a vain attempt to catch their attention, you device a plan with your friend to make them jealous. although, it seems your plan has failed, now it's up to your friends to pick up the pieces.

pairing: monster trio + usopp x gn!reader [modern au] [college au]

note: i was bored lmao (this is unedited)

Monkey D. Luffy:

"Let's just get something to eat! I'm getting hungry!" whined Luffy. You sent a glare his way, hoping he wasn't blowing your cover.

Luffy stared at you unamused, watching you look over at your crush flirt with someone else. He was getting tired of your antics, you were letting him starve just so you can ogle at your crush.

Luffy knew about your plan and was more than willing to help. The plan was simple, right? Make your crush jealous by having them think you're making moves on Luffy. Then, once they realize what they are missing out on, you and your crush date and Luffy gets to go his own way.

If only it was as simple as Luffy made it out to be. This little scheme of yours was lasting a little too long. Your crush never paid attention to you, and when he did, it was half-assed. Only asking for the answers to the homework or if you could help them work out a question on an assignment in class.

You always seemed to take these interactions as a victory, but not even Luffy is this dense. He was well aware your crush did not reciprocate your feelings but you would refuse to listen to him.

"Shut up! You don't know anything about romance!" you yelled at him, your face growing hot with embarrassment.

Luffy? Not knowing about romance? Of course he knew what it was. Two people like each other, go on dates and kiss, it was simple, right?

Luffy sometimes wanted to kiss you, was that romance? You two were already going on-unofficial-dates and hanging around each other more than usual.

The both of you were always together one way or another. You would invite Luffy out for lunch after class. He would stay in campus at night, waiting for you to finish your night classes. You were both in the same friend group. Luffy already knew what you liked and disliked; hell, he's met your family before that bonehead had the chance to.

What did that meathead have that was so special about them? Unlike them, Luffy would do his homework, even if the answers were wrong. He would never ask you for the answers, instead choosing to spend quality time with you teaching him the material outside of class.

Plus, Luffy liked you. You didn't need a convoluted plan to catch his attention, you already had it.

You let out a defeated sigh, "This plan isn't gonna work is it?" you asked, looking for confirmation.

"Nope!" Luffy said bluntly.

Even though his response hurt you, you knew Luffy was just being honest with you. It was a trait you admired in him, it was much better than having him feed into your delusions.

Luffy noticed a shift in your behavior now becoming a sad one. Coming to the realization that your crush did not reciprocate the same feelings you had. You were planning on going home and crying your heart out, it felt like the only thing to do. Although, Luffy had other plans. He grabbed you by the hand, leading you away from campus.

"W-where are you taking me?" you stuttered, tryin to keep up with Luffy's pace.

He only turn to look at you, giving you that wide grin you absolutely adored. "I'm taking you out to eat, my treat!" was the only thing Luffy responded with.

You felt warm inside knowing that Luffy was doing his best to try and make you feel better. Maybe it was for the best your crush didn't reciprocate your feelings. Why?

Because you felt yourself becoming flustered at the realization that Luffy has been holding your hand the entire walk to the restaurant.

Roronoa Zoro:

Zoro watched you mop around in your seat, watching your crush flirt with another person. Even with all the efforts you and Zoro went through to get your crush jealous all ended up in failures. Zoro was not one to shy you away from the truth, he told you in the beginning this plan was not going to work.

Now, here you were, trying to drink your pain away. Zoro was the last person you'd imagine to tell someone to stop drinking. Although, this was different, you looked pathetic being all mopey over some dumbass.

Zoro didn't understand you at all. How can you be sad over that piece of shit? If you asked him, he wasn't even worth your time. Actually, don't ask him that, Zoro would never admit it. He was too stubborn to tell you anything other than "I told you so".

It was a bad idea to come to this party, it was supposed to be fun but you were having an awful time. Zoro could be out enjoying his time drinking with his friends, but he choose to stay by your side instead.

"You know you're not obligated to stay with me, right?" you sniffled, rubbing your nose with the sleeve of your sweater. "You can be with your friends..."

Zoro would've ignored your comment but he was surprised you were crying. Are you seriously crying over your crush? Somebody who could care less about your feelings? That guy didn't even know you were in the same class as him.

"S-stop crying!" exclaimed Zoro. He didn't know how to deal with emotional people, especially when they were crying.

"But it hurts!" you cried, rubbing your tears away.

Zoro felt anger running through his veins, aggravated by the thought of you crying over that jackass. Stop crying, thought Zoro. Why were you crying over your crush when you had Zoro right there.

"You need to get over it!" spat Zoro, his words coming out rather harshly. He didn't mean to make you feel worse, but he was not going to hide you from the truth. "That jackass is over there making out with someone else and you're here moping like if he even knew you!"

You felt crushed but Zoro continued, "Know your worth! Realize just how cool you are, you were willing to let a loser like him be your boyfriend? Toughen up and find someone who will actually give a shit about you like I do!"

Zoro realized the words that had just come out of his mouth. Did he just give you a borderline confession? No, there was no way Zoro had any feelings for his friend.

Zoro saw how you became flustered, "Don't take that in a weird way!" he was quick to add before downing his beer.

Zoro tried his best to ignore the situation that unfolded. Where did that all come from? There was no way those fake dates and hand holding could've made him fall for you. It wasn't real, it was all an attempt to make your crush jealous; but, Zoro couldn't deny that he felt a little warm on the inside when he thought about being official with you.

Vinsmoke Sanji:

You were mindlessly going through Sanji's TV, looking for something to watch and ease your brain. At first, Sanji was surprised when you showed up to his house unannounced with a somber expression. You told him you would be with your crush on a so called "study date". It wasn't a real date but you thought it was a step closer to victory to name it one.

"The study session was cancelled," you muttered, dropping yourself on Sanji's couch. "Said he couldn't make it and then I saw him making out with someone else in another part of campus. Amazing, right?"

You looked miserable, your eyes were red and puffy. You had been crying as you made your way to Sanji's house.

Sanji wasted no time comforting, "Let me make you something to eat, hopefully you'll feel a lot better," he said, heading to the kitchen.

Sanji couldn't understand how someone could do that to you. You were cute, passionate and smart, traits Sanji admired since the first time you two met in class. He wished he got to have half the attention that you gave to your crush.

Sanji was already aware of his growing feelings for you but he choose to keep quiet. Before he had known he grew so fond of you, Sanji had already agreed to your plan. Others would call it a bad decision on his end, you would hold his hand and take him on 'dates'. It didn't make his situation any better, seeing how he fell even harder

Yet, Sanji would refuse to tell you about his feelings. You had your eyes on somebody else and he respected your decision, even if it would hurt him.

"Here you go," Sanji laid the plate in front of you. "Don't cry too much while eating, it'll make it taste saltier."

You have him a tired giggle but it was immediately replaced with a sad expression. Sanji knew what had happened earlier hurt you a lot.

"Sanji..." you started, snapping Sanji out of his daze. "Do you think I'm beautiful?"

"W-what?" Sanji was baffled by your question.

You looked ashamed of yourself but you repeated your question. "Do you think I'm beautiful...?"

What kind of question is that? Does Sanji think you're beautiful? Beautiful is just one of the many words he would use to describe how you look to him. He could spend hours writing letters on your beauty alone, of course you were pretty. How could Sanji explain to you how fast his heart beats every time he sees you? How he wished you looked at him with the same adoration you look at your crush.

Sanji knew he would be crossing his boundaries, but he felt you needed to know. He cupped both of your cheeks, giving you a compassionate look. You felt yourself becoming flustered with how intimate his touch felt.

"You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes upon, darling," said Sanji.

He truly meant it. All those fake dates would pale in comparison to what he could truly offer you. You felt yourself lean in closer to Sanji, closing the gap between your lips and his.

If you let him, Sanji would make you the happiest person on earth.

Usopp:

"What if we egg his house?" suggested Usopp.

Curse him and his mouth, now you were adamant in putting his idea to work. Usopp didn't have this feeling when he was hyping you up and while both of you walked to your crush's house. Now that he was physically there, Usopp could feel his legs shaking, he wanted nothing more than to run to the hills.

"Are you ready!?" you exclaimed with eggs already in your hands. "Here!"

You handed Usopp the eggs so he could join you. Even though it was dark and nobody could see you, Usopp was scared. He felt like the police was watching the both of you, ready to arrest you. He didn't know why he would ever come up with this idea. If he was being honest, Usopp thought you would reject it, opting instead in taking the high road.

"Yes, that's a perfect idea!" you exclaimed, getting your sweater.

Usopp saw how awful you felt after being ditched by your crush who asked you out on a 'date". He felt happy for you that the plan worked but also crushed. It meant you would no longer be able to hang out with him like you used to. You wouldn't be able to hold his hand or invite him out to places. Instead of being 'dating' Usopp, you'd be dating your crush.

When he saw you down in the dumps, Usopp felt rage. You tried so hard to get your crush's attention just so he could blow you off? Usopp would trade places with your crush if he could, he was insane.

What was even more insane was the fact that you were ready to throw the first egg.

"Wait!" whispered Usopp, looking around nervously. "Are you sure about this?"

You frowned, "Usopp, this man ditched me, giving me false hope!" you didn't hesitate to throw the egg which landed on the window. "If you ask me, he deserves it!"

You're right. He does deserve it. He deserves it for making you cry, for giving you false hope, but most importantly, for ruining his chances with you. Usopp could feel his legs shaking but he decided to ignore the nervous feeling pooling inside his stomach. He took a deep breathe and threw the egg and it landed on his roof.

"Woo-!"

You covered Usopp's mouth to try and not draw attention, but both of you started giggling. The both of you continued to throw eggs, almost finishing the carton of eggs. Before you could throw the last two eggs, the lights inside your crush's house turned on.

"Who is that!" you can hear their yelling from the inside even though it's muffled.

Usopp did not hesitate to grab your hand, sprinting away from the premises. You were stumbling a little, trying to catch up to his speed but you were trying to hold in your laughter. You two were this close to getting caught, but to Usopp it was worth it. You were smiling and having fun, it always made his day when you were happy. If only he would be able to confess to you. He was a coward, constantly needing hype from his friends to even try and think of confessing to you.

But maybe one day, Usopp would gain enough courage to confess to you and ask you out on a proper date instead of a fake one.