#and fear and trembling is soooo good

[wandasverison]

Mind Games

pairing: wanda maximoff x female reader

word count: 2.6k?

summary: gf!wanda maximoff; reader makes a joke about Wanda invading their mind while they have sex, Wanda takes it a little too seriously and y/n makes it up to her with apologies and a little seduction.

warnings: 18+, two second mommy kink, slight electrocution (if that’s even what you’d call it), smut for sure, oh yeah mind reading (major), mind altering? (slight? not really, just trippy Wanda powers)

a/n: like I’ve said I DONT WRITE so help me out pls n thank yewwwww, comments and criticism send it my way; I also put a random placeholder title in with the intention to change it so if it changes,,, sorry

————————————————————————————

“Since you’re already in my brain when we fuck…” you joke, glancing up at your girlfriend’s face.

And the reaction was not what you were expecting.

“Y/n, are you being serious right now?” Her previous smile has faded, eyebrows dropped in confusion, and the light that had just sparkled her eyes, begins to darken. In one shitty second, you’ve ruined the entire conversation.

“I- I didn’t mean it like that, it was a joke, you know, cuz… I, I just think, I kind of maybe thought-“

“What did you think? Better yet, what do you think of me, y/n?” Wanda scoots back, accustomed to people’s fear and intimidation of her powers, but you were different. From the day Tony brought you in, you’d shown loyalty to the program, and especially in her. Both of you had a sense of “uncontrollability” in your powers, causing your teammates to occasionally get alarmed. This bonded you two like no one else, until one day when you gave up and kissed her.

“Wanda, I’m sorry,” allowing her to keep the distance, but staring into green eyes, you truthfully whisper, “I don’t think anything negatively of you, I trust you more than anyone I’ll ever know. So to me it’s not an invasion of space, but I’m so sorry to ever make you feel like you’re-”

“A mind voyeur? Y/n, you know how I feel about consent and using my powers for…”

“I know! I know!” This time you inch closer, daring to place your hands in her lap. “You’re just…soo…soooo good, I didn’t know if it was all this,” your hands slowly crawl from her thighs, up to her waist, shoulders, then finally landing on her temples, “or if you just had a little bit of help. There’s just no way you know my body that well, is there?” You place a kiss on her forehead, knowing what this is doing to her.

Wanda attempts to hide the tremble her body lets out as your lips part from her skin, but you notice it all too well and decide to take things up just a notch. Slipping onto her lap, you straddle her on the couch in the Avengers compound living room.

“Y/n, what the hell are you doing?” Her voice is low, but you can hear the slight rasp in tone.

You begin attacking her neck with small, delicate kisses before speaking, “I trust you Wands and I love you so much,” another kiss, “don’t you want to know how much I love you?” and one on the jawline, “Aren’t you just a little tempted to hear all of the things I think about-” and the last one, right under her ear, “while you fuck me?”

Wanda grabs ahold of your waist, involuntarily grinding into you before collecting herself. “Hey, I thought you already were telling me everything?” Her head tilts and she gives you a warning smirk.

But you’re not allowing her to regain composure so easily, so you play the brat card. “I was, but I guess I’ll be silent from now on,” a fake pout.

She smirks at your mischievous nature and tests your words, snaking her hands up your sides. They sneak under your shirt and the feeling of her warm digits against your bare skin drives you mad. You stay strong in holding silent, even when her fingertips graze past your chest for what feels like a millisecond. Though you manage to stay quiet, you’re quivering and shuddering with each swift movement of her fingertips. Every part of you she touches leaves a trail of goosebumps and leaves you in an even more soiled state than before.

Suddenly, she stops and you’re brought back to your senses, panting and groaning on top of her, “you’re an asshole,” the joke is obvious considering your small argument before. An argument that may change our entire sex lives.

“And you kept your word!” Wanda removes her hands from beneath your tee as you grin and nod at her, almost genuinely proud of your own self.

“Then it looks like I’ll need to get inside your mind, huh?” Your smile fades as the realization of the situation dawns on you. If you could see yourself, you were sure your eyes had turned black with lust, but everything happened so quick there was no time to care.

“We’re not doing this here,” Wanda quickly bolts up from the couch, with you still gracefully in her lap, and whisks the two of you away to your shared room down the hall. Before you even know it, she’s on all fours above you and you’re pressed into the sheets of the bed.

“Tell me you want this,” once again, lustful hands are tracing the sways and curves of your body. Occasionally she plants a kiss, some harder than others, sometimes she bites and sucks, marking you as hers.

Your head rocks back and you let your mind run wild. Please, please, please, Wanda. I’m yours, mark me everywhere. I’m only yours. Take over me.

You know she’s begun making her way into your brain because that last remark causes her to stop in her tracks. “Y/n?”

When your eyes meet, you pray she’s still there— my mind is yours Wanda. You can do anything you want with me, I just want you.

The red instantly washes any reminiscence of green from her eyes and you let out a salacious moan at the sight.

Wanda crawls up for the most lustful kiss she’s quite possibly ever given you. Her tongue doesn’t bother ask for entrance as it swirls around to find yours. The two of you can’t seem to find a sweet spot to place your hands, traveling up and down both of your sides, every now and then one of you reaches up and grabs a fistful of the other’s hair, eliciting numerous whimpers. Mainly from you.

“Fuck—” you accidentally let out between kissing. Feeling her smirk against your lips you try this mind reading thing again. Fuck. Me. Wands.

A small growl chokes out of Wanda. You like this? You think as you stare at her again, the eyes turning you on more and more by each second. You like hearing my disgusting, dirty thoughts Wanda? You’re normally not this vulgar, or this submissive but you can see what it’s doing to her, which drives you insane.

Your obscenity was obviously making Wanda frantic. You’d never seen her eyes this red before. Sometimes they would tint when she came in the past, but now they were fully glowing scarlet red with no green in sight. You were sure to be soaked.

“Let’s check that, shall we?” She grinned. To your surprise, but not disappointment, she’d gotten into your subconscious thoughts. Fuck, every part of you felt exposed and in the best way.

“You don’t know this yet detka, but you’re going to like this very much,” she whispers in your ear before pinning your hands above your head. When you glance down you see small red particles dance over the tips of her fingers. “It’s not going to hurt—” she reassures your initial fear of the unknown, before her smile fades into lust and she continues, “it’s not going to hurt… at the beginning.”

Her tone and newly found dominance destroys any sense of stability you thought you had. You and Wanda have had sex before, numerous times actually, but you’d both been too nervous to show each other these, rawer sides.

She stays true to her word and starts slow. You’re both incredibly carnal, but this is still very new.

She places a kiss down on your chest, then in the exact spot you feel a slight shock. Again, a kiss that is soon replaced with a jolt. Another, this time lowering toward your waistline. Wanda annoyingly tugs at your pants and it takes you less than a second to have them off. The red eyes make contact with yours, “why don’t you just get rid of everything, baby.”

After nodding, you quickly remove the rest of your clothing articles, revealing yourself completely for her.

You’re an absolute mess underneath Wanda, whimpering and quivering as she stares down at your nude and utterly revealed self. Please, Wanda. Keep going. Harder this time.

“God, y/n—“ she moans and resumes absolutely toying with you, giving you an overwhelming mixture of kisses and shocks in between speaking. “I knew you’d like it but I didn’t realize how much I would…” she purrs and turns it up a notch, the jolts getting stronger and more aggressive with each sloppy kiss.

She trails her hand down so delicately toward where you’ve been begging. A harsh shock between your legs forces out a moan so loud you’re worried someone might have heard. Wanda immediately covers your mouth, “sorry, I could have known that was coming,” but it’s obvious she isn’t sorry as she jolts you again, even harder. Thankfully, her opposing hand is there to cover your mouth and any noise gets suppressed behind the woman’s digits.

She’s completely invaded your mind. She knows exactly what you like. All of your horrible, dirty secrets and thoughts and you can’t help but moan again at the thought. If you thought she knew you before, fuck, did she know you now.

“You’re mine, yes?” Her eyes bore into yours and the devilish grin almost sends you over the edge. You’re near done for and she hasn’t even touched you anywhere significant yet.

Struggling to get the words out over your trembling state and her nearly muzzling you, she removes her left hand, allowing you a quick moment of recollection. Her right hand traces up your body so slow it’s near torturous, “shh, patience detka.” You nearly pass out when she gets to your chest and slowly traces around your nipple. She teases it harshly for a minute, before continuing up your collarbone, to your neck and finally she rests her hand on your chin. Her eyes start to glow harder when she takes her hand and traces your lips with her fingertips. For a moment you keep your lips pursed shut, but when you look up at her you slowly drop your jaw and she slips two fingers inside.

“That’s it detka, suck. Such a good girl,” Wanda praises your efforts in lubricating her digits, allowing you to showcase skills you don’t normally use. The sight made her dizzy and she did everything in her power to apply the patience lesson to herself, instead of just taking you right then and there.

Because you were absolutely begging. She could hear it and feel it. Wanda’s powers were doing more than she even knew were possible, which is why she avoided using them in sexual circumstances. Her irrational fear that they would get out of hand.

But this was more than okay, she could hear you pleading to be filled, your moans enveloped Wanda’s mind like you were the one with magical powers. She could feel exactly where you wanted to be touched, each and every spot. But what burned the most was the feeling in her own core, which had to be the replication of what you were feeling and she notices she’s been teasing you long enough now.

She pulls her fingers from your mouth and for a second you’re disappointed. You knew she couldn’t feel it, but you’d got so caught up, it felt as if you were pleasing her. “Don’t be upset y/n, I liked it just as much as you, I just want to put these somewhere else. I think we’ll both still enjoy it.”

Though her fingers go absent from your mouth, they’re replaced by her tongue as her left hand pulls you in for second kiss. The right makes its way to your folds, slowly teasing your overly sensitive area. You’re absolutely drowning in the kiss when Wanda slowly pushes her fingers toward your entrance.

Please, please, please.

“Out. Loud.” She commands through the lustful kisses.

“P-pu-ple-“ she grazes slightly over your clit, “fuCK! Wanda,” she knows she’ll ruin you with teasing. “Fuck me. Please. I need you now Wands.”

The slight movements quickly turn into swift back and forth flicks. “Are you sure?” She questions blankly, clearly toying with you.

“God, Wanda,” trying to regain any composure, “Yes, I’ve been begging, what else do you want from me?” You manage to get out.

“I want you to finally address me how you’ve been wanting to,” she picks up her pace and your hips start to move along with her fingertips.

At first you’re truthfully confused. But it may not be confusion, your brain is actually just clouded with lust. It takes only 5 seconds of Wanda playing with your clit for you to realize what she’s talking about.

Shit.

“Don’t be embarrassed detka, it’s quite sexy. I’m rather upset you haven’t told me sooner”

Wanda…

You know of no other way to say it than in the smallest, neediest whimper you can muster, “please fuck me mommy.”

She smiles, “such a good girl,” and her two fingers drop from your clit to your entry. “Look at me,” she orders and you comply, getting completely lost in the crimson orbs. They flash once as her fingers dive inside you, eliciting lewd moans from both parties.

“God, y/n, you’re so fucking wet,” she starts slow, pumping in and out, knowing the pace destroys you, she mocks, “oh detka, you want more?”

You don’t just want more, you need more and Wanda gives just that and then some. She picks up the tempo and curls her fingertips, delicately tormenting your lower half.

Your hands grasp and pull at locks of her hair. The harder the tug, the deeper her digits descend inside you. A panting mess beneath her, Wanda locks lips with yours once again. This time it nearly takes your breath away.

She continues the rapid pace and feeling your heart rate heighten, ends the kiss for just a second to instruct, “cum for mommy, y/n.”

“Shit—” you can’t help the profanities slipping from your lips as she places hungry kisses down your jawline, “—fuck Wanda, I’m…”

“You don’t think I know?” she finds a spot and bites down unexpectedly hard, eliciting a carnal cry from you. “Now, do as you’re told, love, you’re already getting so tight for me.”

For a second you’ve forgotten that she’s been in your mind this entire time. She knows exactly where each and all of your sweet spots are and is manipulating every single one to the highest extent. Your girlfriend, who never wanted to use her powers for this was now playing and fucking with your every sense. You. Loved. It.

And just like that the orgasm completely enveloped you. Grinding and riding against her fingers, you couldn’t begin to think about who may have been hearing your jumbled whimpers, as you no longer had any control. Your incoherent string of murmurs soon were drowned out as she leans into you, your mouth finding its way into the crook of her neck. Biting down gently, she doesn’t slow her pace as she lets you ride out your orgasm and you almost come again when her hair falls over your face. You knew the Ambrette 9 smell anywhere, it was her favorite and you’ve been enamored with it ever since she walked into the boardroom and was seated next to you on a mission briefing. The smell intoxicated you the whole damn time.

“Didn’t know you’ve been into me since day one,” she giggles and gently removes the two fingers from you, drawing out yet another moan. Her hand draws slowly to her lips, where she licks you clean off her fingers.

“Quit!” Playfully pushing her hand away, “Maybe you should have just gone in my head the first day we met, huh?”

Wanda snickers at your remark and pulls the covers over the two of you, then pulls you in for a loving embrace.

“Glad I didn’t… I wouldn’t have been able to be in the same room with you and those naughty thoughts.”

[aluciahaz]

may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.

Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!

once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3

oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)

greed never stops

—vox x f!reader

—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage

vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.

he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.

but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.

but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.

and you were the one he needed it from.

your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.

“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”

those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.

“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.

“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?

“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”

“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry—!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.

he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.

vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.

he just didn’t deserve it.

he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.

“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.

his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.

his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.

which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.

“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.

“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.

“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.

“such a good boy.”

those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.

he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.

sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.

it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.

it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.

“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.

vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.

but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.

(i totally didnt forget to tag)

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck

[allfearstofallto]

hii! can i make a request?

I've been thinking about angsty things a bit. say if, reader got pregnant, would she hate it? how would scara/childe react? in my opinion, id like to think that scara thinks of this as a way to tie her down to him more, plus its canon he likes kids!! and as for childe i think he'd be very very happy since he has soooo many siblings, (maybe he wants a lot of kids too??)

and..what if reader miscarried? i have this thought of where scara would still be cold to her but give her breaks and more space than usual, but what if reader completely locks herself in and then when he confronts her about it they get into a huge argument, how would scara tackle that, would he resort to abusive tactics and would it increase readers hatred & distance more?

just a brainrot, you dont have to write about it if you're not comfy^_^

This took me so so so long!! I'm so sorry if you were waiting for it!!

I don't typically write for things like pregnancy because it makes me uncomfortable, but I'd be lying if I said I do not absolutely fucking adore angst and hopelessness.

Parasite

Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: 18+ MDNI, Dark Content, Forced marriage, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Mentions of Dub/Non-Con

A week late turned into two. Two turned into a month. A month turned into three. And three turned into unusual cravings for foods that didn't go together. Sickness and vomiting clouded the hours of your mornings. Dread filled your body the second you realized what this was. Stress makes your cycles late, you told yourself, stress makes your entire body change, and this was a stressful situation, but stress wasn't causing this, was it?

Scaramouche could tell the changes in you immediately. As someone who constantly kept tabs on your life, it was only fair to assume that he'd noticed your slight fluctuation in weight and lack of asking for your monthly cloths. When you were called into his office, you felt a hot flash all over your body, you assumed it was fear, but it could've also been nausea.

His office was a place filled with dread. The air in the room was too thick and worst of all, he was there. The room made you feel small, the only good thing about it was that he was usually too focused on his mile high stacks of paperwork. Except today. Today his razor sharp gaze was focused on your trembling form as you bowed to him, his eyes following down, then back up.

“Answer me honestly,” he began, hands planted on the wood in front of him, “Are you with child?”

If you could throw up again, you would. Of course, you knew all this time, but you never wanted to say it. You hoped, just hoped and prayed that maybe if you never acknowledged it, it would all go away. It would all be a bad dream. But it was true. There was something disgusting living inside you. And it was his.

“I believe so, my lord,” the words couldn't even completely fall from your lips before you were a blubbering, sobbing mess of anguish and fear. Despite the fact that you were completely breaking down before him, he had a small smile on his face, like he was proud of what he'd done to you.

“That's good,” he said calmly, wiping away your tears and planting a forced kiss upon your face. His touch felt cold as ice, but his hands against you made you want to melt your skin away.

The reaction to the “good news” was immediate, whether that was good or bad was up in the air, but everything changed. The tight obi of all the kimono you owned would put too much pressure on your budding stomach, new one's were ordered to be ready as you grew more in size. Your diet was changed completely, less of the Inazuma raw delicacies and more lean meat and vegetables. Daily classes of calligraphy and tea ceremonies were switched to resting with your feet up or light stretching, everything to keep you happy and healthy during your pregnancy.

The biggest change was Scaramouche himself. A man filled with so much hatred and disgust, was suddenly being kinder. Or trying to at least. You watch him open his mouth to make a comment, only to shut it again in favor of saying something still rude, but less insulting.

The Scaramouche that believed that he could take your body whenever he pleased was long gone, even though that was what got you in this predicament in the first place. He'd taken to leaving you in the middle of the night and going to the bathroom to sate his urges. He'd come back with cold damp hands and lay next to you, a protective hand over your stomach as he kissed your cheek and told you how much he loved you.

The day you saw blood between your legs and felt an aching pain in your stomach was a joyous one indeed. A part of you wanted to scream out in glee, but you didn't want to wake your already on edge husband. The blood that coated your fingers could only mean one thing. One good thing. It was gone. You were free of it. Almost immediately, the dark air that seemed to linger over your body vanished and you let out a sigh of relief.

Scaramouche was informed shortly before breakfast that same morning. You relayed the information to a maid, who then told him, whispering the words in his ear so quietly, it sounded like she was speaking gibberish. His face, his expression, changed to one shock, then horror, then pain. You didn't even know he could make such a face, yet there he was with tears in his eyes.

“Wh-what happened?” There was that tone again. The one you were used to. The anger and distaste for you in his voice. He slammed his fist down on the desk, turning his head away from you as his voice became high and breathy, so desperate for answers, “What did I do wrong?”

You stood in his office awkwardly, even this display from a person you hated, this display of agony was hurting you as well. You thought it would be funny. Seeing the man who pulled you from your home and forced you into marriage in pain was supposed to make you happy, but you felt your own chest clenching, felt your hands tremble.

“I-i suppose…I was stressed, my lord,” you muttered, his already labored breaths hitching at those words. The few months you were carrying that thing inside your body, was when he asked for less from you. He expected you to laze around all day and relax. For your body to fall into a daze like trance of naps and delicious food. He wanted happiness for both you and his child that you carried, yet you were still the most stressed you'd ever been in your entire life, knowing that he had something inside you. Something that would continue to fester and grow, until it eventually ate you alive.

He sat back in his office chair dejected, hurt, and empty. Scaramouche's normally sharp, glaring eyes were wide as he stared at the ceiling, body limp as he bit his lip, “Leave me,” he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. Had it not been for the quietness of the room, you wouldn't have heard him.

Leave him you did, closing the door as silently as possible and not lingering behind. You felt yourself finally stop tensing, telling yourself that all your woes were over, for now. The thing was gone. You were happy. For once, even if unintentionally, you'd won over your captor.

[transbunnyboi]

I'M BACK FROM MY DATE. My brain is so fuzzy and I'm soooo dizzy and I'm overwhelmingly horny right now ough my god!!! My face and body is so warm, I feel like I was drugged oh god. Okay so I'm still fucking reeling. This man. Jesus Christ.

So he shows up and we go to some restaurant (It's a local one) and we have food and we talk and !! he doesn't like drinking (neither do I, for some reason I'm scared of it?? But not weed? My brain is silly), and also he's vegan. SO we eat and then we talked FOR HOURS and he's so interesting and nice and he's a really good listener and oughhhh god !!!! Oh my god and his teeth are so pretty and that sounds so weird but like they're not perfectly straight and they're so cute and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!! So he takes me driving and just being in the car with him with his scent and his voice and his laugh and the slight fear of the fact that it's late at night and we're just driving around and he starts flirting with me and??? Also telling me like. Urban legends of the area and slowly creeping me out and I, not a normal person, started getting like. Absurdly turned on and shifting around in my seat and crossing and uncrossing my legs and we're on a dark desolate road and I wanted him to pull over and fuck me in the back and eventually we got back to my apartment complex and we parked in the dark area and he started talking and I asked if he'd 'kiss me goodnight' and he smiled and reached over and kissed me and I couldn't stop kissing him back.

He tastes sooooo so good just oh god, and we started making out in his car and my boycunt started aching soooooooo soo bad that it made my fucking legs shake and I want him so bad and my brain stopped working and I started begging him and I honestly don't even remember what I was asking for but I swear to god, my tdick started throbbing soo so bad and my cunt was dripping down my thighs and then he started unbuckling his belt and I literally started whining (I'm actually rlly embarrassed lmao) and I ended up sucking his cock and oh my god. I don't know what happened but I think my brain fucking re-wired. His cock tasted so fucking good and I'm soo dizzy from it. I can't even describe it but it slightly tasted like dirt and it slightly burned my tongue?? not burned but like???? I can't describe it and he kept leaking pre into my mouth and he was holding my hair back and guiding me and petting my hair with his other hand and ohhh god he was so vocal and he kept praising me and saying I was a good boy and I was so fucking horny that I was actually tearing up and I ended up stroking him until he came on my tongue dfhjgfdsfghjsdgf

He fixed himself up and took me to my apartment and my legs were so wobbly and I wanted him to fuck me so so so bad and he ended up kissing me again and again and when I asked for him to spend the night he said no, and kinda let out the softest little laugh (I was dripping down my leg) and said "You're greedy, huh?" and went "Not on the first date." I started trying to get him inside anyway because I was literally trembling and dizzy and I needed him so so bad and he kissed me AGAIN and smiled and said no and leaned in (I started shaking and panting, I was literally losing my mind) and he fuCKING GOES "and don't touch yourself tonight. If you do that, I mean."

He said he'd take me out tomorrow night because we're both off work and my boycunt is aching so bad and I'm so overwhelmingly horny and I can't stop whining and I'm laying on my bed with my ass up and I need to have fucking ANYTHING and I'm so so fucking horny and I cAN'T. I WANT TO DIE.

[isawritesshit]

The Color Blue - Chapter 1

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader and slightly ooc! (?) gojo (ig; i feel like i didn't write him as in character as i wanted), cursing, allusions to and anxiety about marriage consummation, themes of traumatized and anxiety-ridden reader, themes of forced/arranged marriage

Author's Note: Fuck me in the ass, it took me wayyy too long to get this out to y'all I'M SOOOO SORRY GUYS I DIED AND NOW I AM REBORN BACK AND SEXIER THAN EVER! Anyway, I'm at least happy to finally get this out for you guys because you guys gave me so much love for the prologue (mwah mwah). If you have yet to read the prologue, pleaseee do so! Provides some good context to the premise of the story. I'm going to flag once more that there will be themes of nsfw and physical/mental abuse down the line!

Word Count: ~7.3k

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"Are you afraid of me?"

He spoke. You masked your surprise easily. Did you look afraid? What made him suspect that? How do you answer?

Respond clearly. "No, Gojo-sama. Apologies if I seem at all startled in any way. I am taking in my new surroundings," you replied with a slight incline of your head towards him.

Satoru's eyebrows raised a little. It was the first time he had ever heard your voice. As he suspected, it was graceful and beautiful, but still so sad. And what was with the honorifics? He waited a second for you to say something else, but nothing came. "Do you like it? The house that is." Satoru figured the only way to get anything out of you was to ask himself.

He asked you a question. Respond clearly. Tell him what he wishes."Yes, your home is beautiful Gojo-sama. I'm very fortunate to be living here as your wife." Your words sounded exactly the same, clipped and poised to perfection like the small smile you had on your face. Your skin was cold despite the amount of fabric that covered it, but you refused to shiver. You refused to tremble despite the fear you were feeling. Yes, you had trained and prepared yourself for this. You would be fine.

Satoru only cocked his head and crossed his legs, observing you like a painting from where he sat on the couch. "Thank you." His voice conveyed his usual charisma, but the look he was giving you did not. He sighed as you only bowed your head again and said nothing. He could tell you were afraid, you just didn't wish to admit it. Was it stubbornness or nervousness that had you standing like that before him, looking both strong and weak at the same time?

After a few moments, he spoke again, this time with a little more calmness and reassurance. "I don't bite, y'know." Not a word left your lips at that. You didn't even move. It was like he had a statue standing in a wedding dress in the middle of his foyer. Not a statue, a corpse, with unfeeling, empty eyes. Maybe you weren't happy with the current situation. "Did you like the reception? I'm sure you had input in the planning."

Take this chance to show your worth. "I planned the entire reception, Gojo-sama. I hope it was to your liking." You clasped your hands even tighter as you waited for his reaction.

Satoru raised his eyebrows. "Oh, wow. I'm sorry then, I'm sure you liked it because you put it all together. Well, uh, I definitely enjoyed it, and I'm sure everyone else did too. You did a great job. Uh, thank you," Satoru chuckled. He meant every word. Planning an event of that nature must have been a daunting task and you had done it all on your own. You must be pretty independent.

"Of course, Gojo-sama. It was my duty," you replied with another bow. The fear in your gut subsided at his words. It seemed he could be won over by acts of service.

Duty. That's when it clicked in Satoru's head. You saw this as 100% a duty. Well, it wasn't like he didn't see this arrangement as a duty too, but it had always been more than that to him. It was both a duty and an enjoyment. At least, that's what he hoped it would be for the both of you.

He said nothing for a few moments. You didn't move. He could tell by the uncomfortable silence that the household staff was probably listening from somewhere nearby. Perhaps that also made you uneasy. "Let's head somewhere more private," Satoru murmured, and stood from the couch.

Private? A chill ran down your spine that worsened when he made his way over to you. Were you both going to-

You remained silent as he took your arm gently and led you up the steps of the grand staircase. He moved slowly, watching and searching you for any indication of emotion or feeling, but you gave him none. He cleared his throat before speaking once more. "That outfit seems uncomfortable. I'm surprised you've been able to wear it all day."

Your mind was running circles around his words, but you didn't show it. Is he going to offer to take it off me? Why is he being so gentle with me? Where is he leading me? A bridal chamber? A bedroom? "It is not uncomfortable, just a little heavy," you responded, forcing yourself to keep your voice even. "The tailors did a fabulous job with it."

Satoru hummed and muttered his agreement. He would take this as slow as possible. He knew that the first thing he would have to do was make you comfortable. "I see. If you would like, you may change out of it, and I can take you on a tour of the rest of the estate. Or, you can sleep if you're tired."

This seems like a test, you thought. Which option would he prefer? "I can change and join you on a tour of the home," you responded. "If that is what you wish of me."

Not exactly the answer he was looking for, but an answer nonetheless. "Alright. I'll show you your bedroom. It's apart of my rooms of the estate. I hope that's alright," he said as he guided you towards a set of double doors down the hall.

Satoru stepped before you to open the doors himself, a few staff members walking out past. You assumed that they were finishing their cleaning for the night. You could tell a few of them looked at you as they passed, though you never looked up to meet their gaze.

You could tell these were Gojo's chambers, as they were decorated somewhat differently from the rest of the house. While the entire house had a more contemporary feel to it, his part of the estate added western styles to it: gray and white furnishing, an upstairs that led to an open second floor balcony overlooking the first floor living room space, comfortable carpeting, and a woodsy, homey scent. There was a dining area and billiards further to the right to entertain guests. Truly a home within a home.

Satoru led you up the stairs, watching as you looked over the second floor railing into the living room. When you reached the top, he gestured to the first door on the left. "This is my bedroom here, in case you ever need to find me," he said as he moved you two forward. "And this one is yours." He opened the next door over.

Satoru let you step into the room first. "I wasn't sure what you would prefer in terms of the color of the room and everything, so I had a few of my staff design it for me. Do you like it?" he asked, a slight guilt to his tone. He felt bad that he knew almost nothing about you. He didn't even know where to start when he began planning to incorporate you into his home, but he figured an inviting bedroom would be a start.

"Yes, very much so" you replied. The room was bigger than your one at the Kamo estate. The furniture was made of oak wood, with the room itself having accents in white and various shades of purple. The canopy bed was plush and had silk sheets. Most of your attention was drawn towards the bookshelf in one corner, which already had some of your books as well as many new ones. The closed curtains, which had little butterflies sown on them, had moonlight escaping into the room. The wall to the right had another door, which you assumed led to the bathroom and closet. "Thank you for arranging this for me, Gojo-sama."

You moved your gaze down as you turned to face him. "Of course," he chirped.

Silence once more.

He sighed audibly. "You're gonna hurt your neck if you keep looking down like that, pretty girl. Especially with that monstrosity on your head," he said softly as he approached you. You stilled, jumping a bit as Satoru reached his hands forward to grasp the top of the headpiece. "Shh, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? Just taking it off for you," he murmured when he saw you tense up. He removed the headpiece gently, letting your hair fall. He resisted the urge to touch the soft locks upon seeing them unbound, and instead opted for setting the headpiece on a side table. "There. Feels a lot better, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Thank you, Gojo-sama." You still didn't look at him. After a pause you asked, "May I go change now?"

Why did you ask for permission? "Sure," he answered, a little confused as he watched you retreat into the bathroom. He stood awkwardly in the room as he heard you shuffle around behind the door. He sighed and leaned against the bed. What was it that had you so... uptight? Why wouldn't you relax?

Meanwhile, you made yourself busy undressing and slipping out of the heavy fabrics of your wedding garb in the bathroom, hanging up the piece and choosing a simple, flowing dress to change into. You looked into the mirror once more, and paused.

You had forgotten about the white lace lingerie your handmaidens had forced you into while dressing you this morning. A provoking technique, they had called it. It was beautiful, the entire ensemble having been comprised of silk and lace with little flowers adorning it, but you felt incredibly uncomfortable now that you saw yourself with it on. You felt more like a prized ham, wrapped up and ready to be eaten. And that is my responsibility tonight-

Your thoughts were broken by the sound of movement coming from the room. Right. He's still out there. You thought back to how he had taken off your headpiece. You couldn't help but be frightened for a moment, but then the way he removed it had been... gentle, as all his other actions toward you had been.

You were used to men like him: large, imposing sorcerers, with big egos and even bigger amounts of cursed energy. However, when any of those men came close to you, maybe even to just put a hand on your shoulder, their touch was also gentle, but not in the way Satoru was. They were gentle and domineering. Satoru had been both gentle and considerate.

But what he had called you...

It still felt like he was trying to get something out of you. And you didn't like it.

You slipped on the dress over the lingerie, letting the soft velvet material warm you as the skirt ended at your ankles. You had always liked this evening dress.

Satoru's head shot up when he heard the door click open. You stepped back into the room, ready to be led. Your apparel took him aback at first. He had expected you to choose something comfortable, a t-shirt and leggings at least, but you still came out dressed like you were going somewhere. You looked beautiful though, and he supposed it was nice to see you in something that wasn't clan-styled regalia (didn't matter that he was still wearing his outfit from today).

Satoru said nothing as you took his arm and let him lead you into the estate. Although he didn't look directly at you, he observed your movements. Beautifully robotic was the way he could best describe it. But why?

Then it dawned on him. The wedding had been ceremonial, so your actions there he could ignore, but everything after... it was like you were still in the ceremony, even in this moment. He saw it firsthand when you said your goodbyes to your family. You would be seeing them so much less now that you were married, yet neither of your parents nor siblings hugged you or expressed any emotion when sending you off.

Then finally with himself. You never looked at him. You complimented him at every opportunity. You asked for permission to go get dressed.

He could never get you to relax. To be comfortable. It was like you were being monitored by some invisible camera that he couldn't see and that you feared.

Duty. 100% a duty.

He looked down at you once more as you walked down the hallway, eyes trained ahead. Yes, those eyes had been his first sign, he realized. For what once held liveliness and curiosity in youth had been replaced with a senseless, dull husk of what he remembered.

Something had happened in those seven years since he last saw you. He felt sorry for you.

He felt sorry because he felt like this was somehow his fault.

But that wasn't going to stop him from trying to be the best he could to you.

___________________________________________________________

An hour later, Satoru had shown you about half of the estate, everything between recreational rooms, kitchens, dining rooms, and his own personal office. Yet, as he talked, you seemed disinterested, elsewhere.

The both of you were on the first floor, walking down a hallway with floor to ceiling windows on the left wall.

"There's not much left to show you, or at least anything that's interesting anyway. If there's anywhere else you'd like to..." Satoru's voice trailed off when he looked at you again, staring out of the windows as you passed.

There. You looked out the windows toward the estate garden, your eyes wide, glittering, and curious. He opened his mouth and then closed it. You looked like a little girl staring at a new doll in a toy store. Finally, something that he could read from you that you refused to hide. Wonder and interest.

Satoru stopped walking when the two of you reached a set of glass doors that led outside. "Do you want to see the garden?" he asked, almost chuckling when you nodded eagerly. "Let's go then." He opened one of the doors to let you through, watching you with amusement. You still kept your face neutral, hands folded over your chest as you stepped out into the open air before walking, practically running, over to the vast flower beds and trees across the lawn.

He just stared as you bursted with this sudden childlike excitement. So you can be won over somehow. Satoru laughed under his breath, a small smirk on his face as he went to join you. You started by walking between bushes, running your hands along any part of the plants as you could. He never would have guessed that you were interested in plants, but now that he thought about it, it made sense. He could see you being the type of girl that's interested in feminine things. Things like dresses, books, and maybe even chocolate desserts. Things like flowers.

You were kneeling next to a bush of blue hydrangeas as he approached. He thought you looked perfect like this, the moonlight playing off of your hair, skin, and dress while you ran your fingers along petals. However, when you realized he was getting closer, you quickly got up and returned to how you were in the foyer: standing straight, hands clasped, and head bowed. It stopped Satoru in his tracks, but also made him understand a little more of how you worked.

You must see a husband, him, as an authority figure that you have to please. Satoru didn't know why. Maybe your family pushed you to be a good wife, but now you're just taking it too far. You must be able to relax when you're comfortable, or when you're alone. That had to be it. Right now, you seem to view this place as comforting, so he had to be the same.

And if he seemed to make you feel uncomfortable, he would leave you alone.

But first, he had to try to get through to you.

"Do you like gardens?" Satoru asked, even though the answer was really fucking obvious.

"Yes, Gojo-sama," you replied. "I like flowers and plants. They are a great enjoyment of mine. Your garden is the most magnificent I have ever seen."

It was the best Satoru had ever seen too, but at this point, he couldn't tell if you were lying to him just to make him happy. He took a step closer and huffed a little. "Y'know... you don't have to call me that. I mean, I'm your husband, not the emperor," he chuckled, though he was dead serious. Laughing through it was the only way to show that he wasn't mad at you. "Why do you like flowers? Or these ones in particular?" He gestured to the bush that you had been admiring.

If you were nervous or scared, you didn't show it. You seemed to be pondering for a moment as you looked at the bush. "I... don't know. Flowers have interested me since I was a child. I used to keep up a garden at home."

A garden that you'll never get to take care of again, he realized. "Well, if you want or... if you need something to do, I can have someone show you where we keep our gardening supplies. You can do as much or as little as you like of course."

Your eyes lit up at the request. "That would be lovely, Gojo-" He could tell you were about to add the "-sama" at the end, but stopped yourself. He still smiled at the way that you seemed to beam in the current setting.

"What other things do you like? Do you have any hobbies?" Satoru asked, watching as you continued to run your hands along the plant.

"I like music," you stated.

"Really? You play any instruments?" He proceeded to raise his eyebrows as you listed a slew of different types that you knew how to play, though you added that piano was your favorite. "What else?"

"I like... cooking, and cats, and," you settled one of the hydrangeas in your hand, "the color blue."

Satoru hummed in response. He felt like he was getting somewhere. "Really? Well in that case, I guess I should've had your room be that color."

"Purple is still just as nice," you replied with a small smile. It was brief, but he could tell it was genuine. It took his breath away. It was almost embarrassing, this effect you were having on him.

"Yeah, I guess." Satoru dared to move a step closer to you. He could see you tense, and decided this was as far as he would get. Maybe now was the time to get some answers out of you. He watched your hand continue to rub the petals. "How do you feel about... all of this. Really."

"Your garden is dazzling-"

"No, I mean our... situation. Be honest with me," he said gently, but the way he worded it almost made it sound like he was pleading with you.

You paused before answering. Your hand stopped moving. "This marriage is just as important to me as it is to my father and the Kamo name. I will do right by him to ensure that it succeeds. And not just for him, but for you as well." Your tone was light and sophisticated, your voice sweet as can be, but it still felt fabricated. Rehearsed. Satoru wasn't buying it.

After a few moments, he decided to try something a little bold. "Look. I'm not your father, okay? And this isn't the Kamo estate. You don't have to be so... restrictive around me. I know this is, like, your first time ever talking to me, but I'm not some authoritarian." He almost regretted the words when he saw your guilty face. "But of course, that also means I'm not going to control the way you act. You can do whatever you want, say whatever you want. It's all fine by me." Silence again. "(Y/N)?"

You seemed... confused. Satoru spoke again. "Are you feeling alright? All I'm saying is I want you to be comfortable here. If that means... not interacting with me as much, then I get that."

Still nothing.

Satoru sighed. Maybe he needed to take a different approach. Maybe he just needed to leave you alone for a while. "If there is... anything else you want to see, I can show you. Otherwise, I'm going to go to bed. You can stay out here as long as you want..." he said softly. He began to turn away from you, listening for your movements as he started to walk inside. You only walked from your spot and moved further into the garden.

The halls echoed with the sound of his footsteps. That went... much differently than expected.

He thought back to fantasies he used have of what this night would look like: learning more about you, showing you around the estate, laughing with you until both of your stomachs went numb.

Kissing you for the first time in that garden, and, if you wanted it, carrying you back to his room in seconds.

But as he thought more about it, Satoru realized just how unlikely those scenarios would have been, especially with the current situation. He speculated that your behavior was a combination of your familial expectations, anxiety, and the fact that you were meeting him for the first time. Not to mention, he knew he wasn't the most approachable-looking person in the world.

This was going to take some time. He would let you get used to the house first, get used to seeing him and the other staff around. Then eventually, you might begin to open up to him once you felt safe.

Or you might not talk to him at all.

Satoru really hoped it didn't come to that.

___________________________________________________________

Some time ended up being much longer than what Satoru thought you would need. It had been a week since you last spoke, and you made no effort to approach him.

He did get some semblance of a routine you kept. You were definitely a busy body, always up and ready with a full breakfast waiting for him on the dining room table before he was up (although, since he had the following two weeks after the wedding off, he was sleeping in later than normal). By the time he was finished eating and getting ready for his day, you had gone halfway through your daily routine, which included cleaning and managing the state of almost every room in the whole building. Once that was finished, you prepared lunch, taking your portion out to the garden to eat. The rest of the day you used for your own recreation, usually something along the lines of taking walks, reading, or taking care of different parts of the garden. Of course, you still had time set aside to make him dinner before you stayed in your room for the rest of the night.

Just noticing the things you do throughout the day was a source of admiration from him alone. Satoru knew that the kind of work he did would be considered maddening and dangerous, yet he accomplished everything with ease. He couldn't help but think of you in the same light. You completed the same tasks everyday without fail or signs of fatigue (gods know he could barely clean a fucking toilet without gagging). He noticed that the meals you cooked were not just chosen randomly, but instead were meant to be perfectly balanced in terms of nutrition while still complimenting every bite he took. In other words, fucking delicious. Satoru knew he wasn't a bad cook either, but you made five star meals like it was no one's business.

He would see you often around the house, your skirts or dresses flowing as you flitted about. He could tell you favored modest clothing, usually in either knee to floor-length dresses, or blouses with skirts of the same length. Your makeup was simple, your hair always done up and clean.

Whenever he was close enough to you or entered a room you were in, you always bowed politely and addressed him, never saying more than was needed, before returning to whatever it was you were working on. Satoru knew if he asked, you would sit down and have a conversation with him or eat with him, but he wasn't going to push it. He wanted to be sure it was something you were okay with.

Yet hours and days dragged with almost no change. What was meant to be your two week honeymoon break passed, and Satoru had to return to his missions. Somehow you had already known what time he gets up to eat, and, just like almost any other day, there was a breakfast waiting for him.

No sign of the person who cooked it, though.

Satoru decided he couldn't take this anymore, the awkwardness and silence. No, he was going to find you and asked if you wanted to eat this breakfast with him.

Luckily, he found you in the kitchen putting away dishes you had just finished washing. "Good morning, (Y/N)," he said, trying to sound as polite as he could without frightening you.

You must have been lost in thought, because you jumped when he said your name and turned towards him.

Head bowed. Eyes down. Hands folded.

He was tired of it.

"Good morning, Gojo," you replied. "I hope you had a restful evening last night."

"I did..." he said. "I was just... wondering if you wanted to eat that delicious-looking breakfast you made with me. You're allowed to say no, of course." He felt stupid having to add that last bit.

"Apologies, Gojo, but I already took my breakfast this morning, but I sincerely appreciate your offer." He felt his stomach drop inside him a little. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"No, it's fine. I'll be home later tonight." He tried to keep his tone from sounding disappointed. He couldn't be mad at you for eating before he asked you. However, Satoru wanted to end the conversation positively, with something not so... stale. He turned to walk to the door, looking once more over his shoulder at where you still stood. He opened his mouth once, closed it, and then opened it again. "You look gorgeous today, by the way."

That surprised you. Not the words necessarily, nor the fact that these weren't your best clothes, but the way he said it. Like he meant it. It stirred something in you. You decided to look up at him, but he was already gone.

A while later, Satoru was dressed and ready to go, his car parked just outside with the AC blasting. He walked down the grand staircase... with you waiting for him at the bottom.

You were waiting for him. He paused in front of you once he reached the bottom of the steps. You had assumed your usually stance, but... he could tell you wanted to say something.

"I... realized that I never asked what you would like me to make for dinner for when you return..." you said as if you were just realizing that you were standing here, and you needed to make up an excuse.

It tugged at his heartstrings a bit. You had never asked if he had a preference for dinner, so... this was you trying to approach him to start a conversation. "Well, whatever you want to make is fine. You're such an amazing cook. I would never not eat anything you make," Satoru exclaimed with a small smile before leaning in a bit as if telling you a secret. "But, if I must request something, I reallyyy like mochi desserts," he whispered before pulling away. "But you didn't hear it from me."

Your small smile and barely noticeable laugh made his heart explode. Pride swelled in his chest. So you have a sense of humor in some regard...

He smiled and walked past you to the door, walking through before-

"Gojo," you called from across the room. Satoru turned at the sound of you calling his name.

"Have... have a nice day today..." you said, giving him a small bow.

His eyes widened in surprise before he flashed you a grin. "You too, pretty girl." And just like that, he left, the door shutting behind him.

Satoru was trying to do his best not to holler in excitement on the other side of the door. You went out of your way to meet him at the front door and ask what he wanted for dinner and told him to have a good day? He felt like a middle school girl. A stupid smile plastered itself on his face as he walked to his car.

And stayed for the rest of the day after.

___________________________________________________________

The next few weeks went just the same: him waking up to breakfast that you sometimes stopped by to eat a few bites of, you saying goodbye and asking what he wanted for dinner at the door, and him coming home to that meal in the evening, which you occasionally ate with him also.

Satoru felt pretty spoiled if he was being honest. He never liked those mysogynistic views on gender roles, especially when it came to the roles of a husband and wife, but he was now understanding the appeal. He had assured you a few times that you didn't need to have something home cooked and ready for him each time he came home, and that he was just as fine with takeout, but that never stopped you. He knew it was serious, if not a little concerning, when he asked for a three-tiered Danish cake for dessert as a joke and you had made two because you, in your words, got bored and had the time. He didn't even know he owned the cooking supplies needed to do that. Nevertheless, to say he ate most of that within a few days would be an understatement.

As time grew, Satoru had been able to observe you more closely. There were the normal things, like the type of books you liked to read (mostly poetry), what time you liked to take your walks (sometime between 3:00 and 6:00pm), and what days you went to the grocery store and farmers market (Wednesdays, if he's correct) despite household staff insisting to him to tell you to stop because it was technically their job. He could never find himself to do so.

Then there were a few... less fortunate things. You still don't look up at him, for starters, and your voice still retained that proper, unnatural tone. Besides the times where you say goodbye to him in the mornings, you always observe and never speak unless he speaks to you. You have a cell phone, but you almost never use it, so he assumed you probably have no friends that you contact, or even family that wanted to contact you for that matter. Lastly, among a few more things, you always try to sneak an ice pack from the fridge some nights when you think he can't see it in your hand as you walk back to your room with it. He never knew what it was for, until he saw it on your neck while you read in the library, something he had to peak through the doors to see.

You get neck pains because of the subservient posture you forced yourself to have around him, and Satoru started to think just how far back this training you had been given goes. He knew that you couldn't get neck pains from bowing if you've only been doing it for a month.

One day, he brought the situation up to Yaga as they watched some student sorcerers training out on the grounds. "You really don't know the kind of backwards training the Kamos put their girls through?" Yaga asked, fixing a stitch on one of his jujustu dolls. "I thought you knew what you were getting into, especially since you're in one of the clans yourself."

"Well, I'm starting to see it," Satoru says with a wince. "I just don't know how to get her to... relax, I guess. Act normal, y'know?"

"Do you think she even knows how?" Yaga mused. Satoru went still. "The Kamos are traditionalistic; their customs span all the way back to the Golden Age of Jujustu as a way to preserve the glory of that time period. This includes how they train their... females."

Satoru furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know much," Yaga said, a piece of the string in his mouth as he adjusted a stitch. "The kinds of things like how to please a husband, how to raise kids, how to behave around authority figures, which includes men. Weird stuff like that. And if (Y/N) is Arao Kamo's only daughter that was betrothed to marry the Six-Eyes wielding Gojo clan head, you can expect her to be well educated in that regard."

Satoru sighs. He felt stupid for not looking into that, for chalking it up to some kind of anxious defense when it was much more than that. "I'm a real fucking idiot."

"Yeah, well, while that may be true, there's not much you can do but give it time. With the kind of stuff she was brainwashed to believe, the least you can do is give her some patience," Yaga said, finishing up his patch.

"True, but that'll take forever," Satoru groans, looking out at the young sorcerers sparring. "She won't do anything unless I tell her to. She doesn't know what it's like to just... have some sort of free will."

"Then maybe show her what's like to have one," Yaga says with a groan, settling back into the bench they were sitting on.

There was a pause before Satoru chuckled. "This is the one time you've actually given me advice that I considered listening to."

"Good. You should, otherwise I'll send you on another mission from this weekend," Yaga grumbled.

"Fine, I'll listen."

___________________________________________________________

That next day, Satoru planned on asking you about something when he saw you before he left.

"Hey, pretty girl," he quipped with a smile as he walked down the stairs, enjoying the slight blush that formed on your cheeks, something he had noticed the past few times he called you that.

"Good morn-" your gentle words were cut off by a sudden cough and a sniffle that caught his attention. He stepped in front of you.

"Hey, are you alright? Is your throat okay?" he asked, his usual teasing tone replaced with one of concern.

You seemed to pause for a moment before speaking. "I'm alright. Something caught in my throat is-" You coughed again, this time more aggressively as you turned to cover it.

Satoru's brow furrowed. He gently pulled your chin so you could face him again. He felt your forehead with the back of his hand. "You're burning up, (Y/N). You probably have a fever."

"I can assure you, Gojo, I feel-" You gasped as you were suddenly lifted into his arms, his hands resting underneath your back and knees as he walked you back up the stairs. He smiled a little when he felt you throw your arms around his neck.

"Please don't lie to me, (Y/N). How long have you been feeling like this?" Satoru asked calmly as he carried you to your room. You looked down at the floor.

A pause. "About the past two days." Satoru sighed.

He opened the door to your room and set you down on the bed. "Hold tight, okay? I'm just going to go grab some things..." He left and returned a few minutes later with an ice pack wrapped in a towel, some medicine, and a glass of water.

Setting the items down on your bedside table, Satoru started by ripping two pills out of their packaging and handing them to you with the water. "Why have you been walking about like normal when you've been feeling this way for the past two days?"

You took a moment to take the pills before answering. "I am well enough to complete my usual routine, so I saw no need for rest. I had the staff prepare your meals to make sure you did not catch my illness," you replied weakly, trying not to cough.

Satoru shook his head. "But we have people hired here to do those tasks anyway. You still need to take care of yourself." Your brow furrowed.

"But I'm still-"

"Don''t fight me on this," Satoru butted in. You lowered your head, eyes despondent. "I don't mean to say I don't appreciate what you do every single day. Really, I really appreciate it. But I don't want you doing anything when you're clearly feeling like shit."

"My apologies-"

"Don't apologize. Please." Satoru's mouth tightened when he saw the ashamed look on your face, the way your shoulders caved slightly. He spoke again, this time more smoothly. "I'll call Yaga to cancel my appointments for today. Just let me take care of you... and don't feel bad about it. Okay?"

Satoru didn't care that he was almost begging with you, but he needed you to understand that that's all he really wanted right now. To take care of and cater to you for a change instead of you constantly doing so for him.

"But, you might get sick too..." His chest tightened a little at the guilt you displayed, your tone of voice, the slight whine in it.

"That's fine. Just means I don't have to go to work longer," Satoru chuckled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to your legs. "But don't think that's the only reason I'm here with you now, of course."

Your lips moved into a small, downturned smile as you huffed a laugh. You weren't even smiling in full, yet he thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

A sharp, painful sounding cough from you broke the silence. Satoru handed you the water again, propping another pillow behind your head. Once you finished, he took the water from you and handed you a woolen blanket that you had resting on the end of your bed. "I'll get some lozenges for your throat and some tissues. For now, just rest for me, okay? I'll come back to check on you, but if you need anything just yell. I'll be in my room," he said as he adjusted the ice pack onto your forehead.

"Okay," you whispered. You looked almost... stunned. Like you never expected this. It made Satoru sadder than he would like to admit.

After a few seconds, he stood, turned off the lights, and shut the door quietly. He walked away right before the sound of your soft cries reached the door.

___________________________________________________________

Satoru looked after you for the next two days, making sure you took medications and got proper rest. Even when you were well enough to get back on your feet, he still made your meals and brought you ice packs and popsicles at night for your throat.

He apologized the first few times he served you food, scratching the back of his head and laughing. Sure, his grilled cheese and tomato soup wasn't bad, but it was embarrassing compared to your culinary genius. You never replied, looking back at him with a perplexed expression.

Satoru noticed this, and he had his suspicions as to why you may be confused. Because you had been living with him for the past month and a half, he was able to easily discern what your looks meant, or at least, what he thought they meant. Your confusion was not necessarily because of actual confusion, but rather, because you weren't used to gestures like this. It was a little disheartening, of course, but slowly, you began to accept them with a small smile and nod of your head. It put him at ease to see you that way.

Now was the third day Satoru stayed home to be with you, and because you seemed to be doing much better, he knew this would probably be the last day he would have to do so. Thus so, he wanted to make the most of it.

It was early afternoon when Satory began to approach your room. You had taken to sleeping in while being sick, and if there was one thing he had definitely learned from this time with you, it's that you could sleep when you weren't waking yourself up at a certain time. He found it cute, and somewhat surprising.

He snuck into your room as you slept, gently placing the reason he came in on your bedside table: a vase, with those blue hydrangeas in it. And just as he was about to walk out, you called his name.

Satoru stilled and turned slowly. You were staring at the flowers on the bedside with a haphazard, exhausted look on your face. God, and just when he thought this moment couldn't get any more precious...

"Fuck, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. Goddamn, and I had it all planned out too! Having you wake up to flowers, I was just gonna get cracking on some blueberry pancakes and everything-"

"Oh... are we celebrating something?" you asked, looking between your hands and the flowers.

"No, 's just because. Unless there's something you want to celebrate? Happy your-fever-decreased-from-103-to-101 day?" he chuckled. "Anyway, I'm going to attempt to make pancakes even though I'm ass at it. Hope you're okay with Frosted Flakes as a fall-back option." Satoru turned towards the door again. This woman has him adding blueberries to his pancakes-

"Satoru...?"

He paused, stopped, buffered, restarted. Did you just call him Satoru? His brain was running laps around the replayed sound of your voice in his head as he turned. He was elated, estatic, down-right jolly, one might say.

And then all that was thrown out the window he faced you completely, and you were looking right at him.

Head up. Eyes bright. Smile... paragon.

"Thank you... for taking care of me."

Satoru knew you weren't just talking about this past three days. He felt like a five year old boy laying his eyes on you again for the first time as he, the ever so confident, swaggering, and teasing Gojo Satoru, flushed. "Yeah, no, it's no biggie, you deserve it cause you do so much and you're my wife so I kind of have to and-" he bumped into the door behind him, "fuck, you know what? I'm just gonna shut up and go... pancakes... haha, yeah..."

This poor man Satoru turned the corner and facepalmed, shutting your door behind him while your small laughs could be heard from the other side of the door. Running a hand through his hair, he tried his best to compose himself while he walked away, but then your face flashed in his mind again, and it was like he had a buzz that reached from his brain down to his whole body. He was smitten.

Once he reached the kitchen, soft music playing from his phone, he searched up that pancake recipe. While he began to get out ingredients, there was a knock as someone entered through the doors that led to the rest of the estate. One of the household staff.

"Sir, there's a guest at the front door," the woman stated.

"Who?" Satoru asked as he leaned over the counter while scrolling through the recipe.

"Arao Kamo, sir."

Fuck.

___________________________________________________________

tags: @leonora13x @cole-silas @feeiry @mysuperrainbow @tw0fvced @emptybrain01 @xixiwang @drilled-brain @lvieee @xxkoyukixx @we-loveebony @sereniteav @ilovecoyotepeterson10 @baby—vera @jebemticeluporodicu @louannfox

I love you guys

[exhaslo]

Hello!! I love your writing, it's soooo good, and I wanted to know if I can make a request (if they are open), Miguel × shy Spider woman, in which she and he almost difficultly interact, since miguel is always talking loudly and stuck in his office while she is his polar opposite, and after I mission together they start enjoying each other presence

Okay, I think I can work with this. So like a Shy, but somewhat outgoing reader while Miguel is loud but an introvert haha. I think I have just the idea~

Warning:

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

There were thousands of worlds in the multiverse. Each was unique in its own way, shape or form. Some felt more unfair than others. Your world was one of those that would be classified as unfair. Actually, it was just downright cruel.

You were the Spiderwoman of your world. Life was going great for you until a strange new villain appeared. This new villain was actually your coworker working on a dangerous project that left you frozen in place for hundreds of years.

Yea, he was a villain in your eyes. By the time you were unfrozen, the world you knew was long gone. Humanity had gone extinct and there was barely anything left to salvage. You lived off the ruins of buildings and wildlife to survive.

It wasn't until Miguel appeared and brought you to the Spider Society that you started to live again. However, you were afraid to talk to anyone. You were scared to lose everything again, yet you wanted to experience their worlds.

You just wanted to live again.

Currently, you were walking around the Spider Society, trying to find something to do. Some of the other Spiders waved towards you before heading off to do their thing. You were hesitate to return the gesture, afraid to getting too close to anyone.

"Why did it take so long to capture the anomaly?!" Miguel nearly roared towards a group that just arrived.

You flinched at the sound of his voice and hid behind a pillar. Miguel was frightening to be around. His presence just felt too much for you, that and he was really loud. Despite your fear, you couldn't help but feel attracted to him.

"Just...go, all of you just go." Miguel sighed heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

All of the Spidermen quickly fled, some making quiet jokes here and there. You were hesitant to approach. You just wanted to say hello to him and to thank him again for saving you.

"You don't have to hide," Miguel called out and faced your direction, "I know your there, (Y/N)."

"Sorry," You whispered, stepping out of your hiding place, "Um, thank you again for-"

"You don't have to keep thanking me. It's been a month."

"I know..." You rubbed your arm and watched him start to leave, "It was nice...talking to you..."

--------

There you were again, watching Miguel from a distance. You had been living at the Spider Society for over two months now and you still were having a hard time talking to anyone. Miguel especially. You two were polar opposites.

Miguel was the strong leader of this group, always stuck in his office working and always loud. While you were just another Spider, trying to explore the different worlds and quiet. You felt like it was an impossible task to talk to him if he weren't the one to do so.

"(Y/N), Miguel requests your assistance in an anomaly capture that landed in your world," Lyla appeared from your watch.

"Oh," The thought of your world shattered your heart, "O-Of course, I'll um...be right there."

"Good, he's waiting for you." Lyla said with a chirp before disappearing.

You froze up, feeling your heart race as you tried to build the courage to return to your lost world. That, and Miguel was personally joining you on this mission. You weren't sure if it was fear or excitement that made your heart race.

When you arrived, Miguel was waiting on top of a broken building. You hurried over, trembling as you stared at the world before you. The once beautiful NYC was now overrun by vicious plants.

"It's still hard to believe what happened here," Miguel said before glancing towards you, "I'm sorry for you loss."

"I-It's....It's okay," You whimpered, tears threatening the spill, "L-Let's go catch the anomaly before this world kills them."

"I'll give the direction, you lead us in the safest way there."

Miguel was actually pleasant to chat with. He kept distracting you from feeling depressed about your world. You ended up getting along with him, the two of you sharing stories about each other. Once you caught up to the anomaly, the two of you easily caught him.

"Well, I can't say this about everyone, but we make a good team," Miguel told you as he threw the anomaly in the portal.

"Thanks, I...had fun working with you," You admitted.

Miguel smiled under his mask as he let you walk before him. He kept a close eye on you as you returned to the Spider Society. He felt bad, but you needed the company. Perhaps, he did too. Miguel was going to try his best to get to know you better.

--------

True to his word, Miguel kept finding time to hang out with you. He always had you join him on a mission, then treated you to lunch afterwards. You were the only one who stayed in his world due to not having a world for you to go back too.

Miguel was almost afraid to admit it, but he had fallen for you. You were just perfect for him. All Miguel wanted to do was keep you safe in his arms. The best part was that he knew you liked him back. His heighten senses sure ratted you out.

Miguel was sitting across from you in his office, sharing lunch. You hummed happily, enjoying your silly Miguel burger,

"You okay, Miguel?" You asked. Miguel stole one of your fries,

"Yea, just admiring you."

"M-Miguel!" You gasped, covering your face, "Y-You can't just say something like that...so boldly." You whimpered. Miguel chuckled lowly,

"Says the one who ordered the burger with my face on it."

"M-Masked face!" You squeaked.

Miguel just hummed in response and finished his meal, leaving you alone to eat. You let out a soft whine, grabbing your burger and hesitantly eating it.

What did he have to do to keep you to stay with him forever? That watch you wore kept you here, but you still had to go back to your world to stabilize the balance every now and then. That and you were not allowed to deeply interreact with his world. It was like you were a prisoner.

A happy one. Despite all the trouble, you were still happy to be here, with him. Miguel just wanted to make your life a little better. Once you finished, Miguel noticed some crumbs on your face. It was cliché, but he approached you and wiped the food off with his thumb.

"Yum," He licked his fingers, watching you grow flustered, "So the burger is good."

"M-Miguel!"

-------

This was one of those rare moments where everyone was hesitant to approach Miguel, everyone but you. Apparently something went wrong in a mission and a cannon event was broken that destroyed that world.

Miguel was furious.

Entering his office, you quietly called out for Miguel. You wanted to be there for him. Hearing a low grumble, you glanced up at his platform and swung towards him.

"Miguel?" You whispered.

Miguel tensed at your voice. You saw it. Slowly reaching out, you placed your hand against his back. Miguel quickly turned around and engulfed you in his arms. You blushed as you were pressed into his chest.

"Mig-"

"Just let me stay like this," Miguel whispered, resting his head against yours. You closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around his back,

"Of course,"

Miguel held you in his embrace for a solid fifteen minutes. Once he had his full, he slowly released you and cupped your cheek. You rested your head against the palm of his hand, enjoying the warmth he gave off.

"(Y/N), I need you to know-" Miguel held your waist close to his, "I love you. I can't afford to lose you."

"M-Miguel," You squeaked, hiding your face against his chest, "I-Is it okay...for me to love you back?"

"I'll keep you protected, give you the life that was stolen from you," Miguel raised your chin, resting his head against yours, "If you'd let me."

"I'd love nothing more,"

The two of you smiled before sharing a passionate kiss. Miguel wrapped you in his arms again, not wanting to let you go. You giggled into the kiss, hugging Miguel happily,

"Shall I tell the others that you're safe to approach?"

"No, let's stay like this for a bit longer."

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

Sorry it was so short! I hope you enjoyed!!!

[catsfor2]

out west (ellie x reader)

warnings: guns/firearms

a/n: howdy guys. not sure if this is what everyone was picturing but this was SO MUCH FUN to write ☺️😋☺️. i definitely do not think they used the word “daddy” in the wild west but i wanted to use it soooo😩😩😩😩also here are the random bits of western slang i used (taradiddles - lies, rumours. sage hen - woman, lady. ‘at sea’ - scared/confused. bellyache - worry. flannel mouth - shithead politician basically) im sorry if i effed this up 0_0 -j

His oversized poncho was black. So was the bandanna covering his mouth, and the large hat hiding his eyes. His revolver, resting like a small child in his gloved hand, stares you down mercilessly.

The figure looked of a ghost. A silent, lifeless bundle of fabrics, rippling in the wind. No face. No skin. No humanity.

And he matched the description of the poster exactly.

“No—no, please, my—my Daddy, he’s the sheriff! It’s more trouble than I’m worth, I’m tellin’ you, please!” You beg, eyes beginning to water and voice already panicked.

He says nothing, boot-clad feet pounding the wood floor carelessly as he walks towards you.

“If you do this he’ll find you! He won’t stop until he finds you! Please don’t!”

It was like talking to a pile of bricks.

The outlaw continues to charge ahead, wordlessly, and you find yourself desperately trying to see where his eyes would land under his hat. He approaches, big and brooding, until you’re face to face with that soulless bandana and downright trembling.

“I—I’d make a real good wife, really, I’ve learned all the—the sewin’, the cookin’ and—and ranchin’! I know it all I promise! It’d be a waste!” You plea, knowing it’s a last resort, knowing this man does not care.

In an instant, his hands clutch your shoulders and forcibly shove you to the side and out of his way, sending you stumbling. His attention lands and focuses on the wall that was behind you.

The poster?

Suddenly, his arm thrusts out and snatches it, like the crack of a whip, before frantically tearing the paper into tiny little pieces.

You watch as they all float down to the floor, feathery and weightless.

You see the brim of his hat turn to you first, and then his head, slowly, like he’s noticing your presence for the first time.

The hand not holding his revolver rises calmly, loosening the edges of his bandanna just a touch. He clears his throat.

“Girl like you knows how to ranch?”

Your eyes almost pop out of your head.

“You’re—”

“Sorry, these damn posters—always…writin’ up taradiddles. Got people thinkin’ I’m some madman, when really,” a finger flicks the rim of the hat, flipping it off of his head and into his grasp. “I’m no man at all.”

You feel yourself reeling, barely able to understand his words, or, her words. The hat had covered up her blue eyes, almost oceanic in color. The bandanna, hiding her soft thin lips. Basically criminal, all the fabric denying you sight of her face.

She went against almost everything Daddy had taught you. It was as terrifying as it was alluring.

“Well you look a bit at sea, darlin’. Why so scared?” She asks, placing her revolver in its holster and walking a bit closer to you.

“I—I don’t get how,”

“How? How what? How a sage hen can shoot? I can tell you right now I cut a cleaner whistle than your Daddy.” She grins, palm now itching closer to her weapon.

“No I—I believe you, it’s alright. Please don’t bring that back out.” You rush, the fear starting to sink back into you.

“Oh, honey, I don’t hunt the good ones. You’ve nothin’ to be scared of,” She assures you, her hand reaching out and feeling some of your hair. “now that sheriff Daddy of yours? Can’t say the same for him.”

You pause, hands balling into fists.

“You know what? My Daddy told me all about you and what you’ve done. I wouldn’t be speakin' so kindly of yourself.” You bite, slightly catching the gunslinger off guard with your tone.

“Oh, did he? Well your Daddy clearly don’t know me too well,” she rebukes, gesturing to the torn pieces of poster under her boots. “do you always believe everythin’ Daddy says?”

“Of course not—”

“I bet Daddy told you that storks bring the babies, right? Did he tell you that?”

“When I was young, but—”

“I bet he also told you about marriage then? One man and one woman?”

You stop talking.

What was wrong about that? Isn’t that how marriage is?

“Most of all, I bet he done told you all about the perfect husband you’re gonna get. Some flannel mouth he works with. Daddy’s girl only gets the best, right? That what he say?”

“I—” You turn your head, a little defeated. “I ain’t marryin’ no flannel mouth,”

“Oh yeah? That’s what’ll happen if you keep listenin’ to Daddy.”

“You don’t know jack. Just a crazy woman with a shootin’ iron. You won’t ever find a husband, I know it.” You spit, not even really believing your own words.

She laughs, rather abruptly, hands rested in the loops of her gun holster.

“Got no bellyaches about that, darlin’. I promise you.” She says knowingly, eyes unwilling to break their gaze from you.

You don’t quite understand what she means by it, especially the way she’s grinning, so you say nothing. Her eyes watch you darkly, following your movements and sending messages you can't translate.

Before she can speak, you remember.

“Oh—my Daddy’s gonna be back soon. I don’t want you to be here when he does.” You tell her, glancing at the doorway behind the both of you.

“I won’t be.”

“Alright—will…will I see you again?”

“Oh sweetheart, you want to?” She questions, starting to re-tie the black bandanna around her mouth.

You blush, sweetly, and the outlaw basks in it. She takes her hat back off, kisses it gently, and places it in your hands.

Her head moves to your neck, barely getting close enough to your ear and whispering faintly.

“Tell Daddy it’s from a suitor, yeah?”

Your cheeks heat, sheerly from how close she is, but also at her words, which feel so much dirtier than they should be to you.

Following that, her leather-covered hands grab your face, and she places a warm kiss on your cheek through the bandanna.

Only lightly could you feel the outline of her lips in the fabric, and it sets you on fire nonetheless.

“Thank you,” you murmur, unsure of how to respond and dizzy with excitement.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she warns, voice a bit muffled. She pulls down the bandanna one last time, and with a wink, tells you,

“I’ll be back for my hat.”

[romanestuffsposts]

Hi....

I have a surgery on Monday an I soooo scared 😢 it not bad or anthing just so my sore throat will go 'way.... can you write somefing bout tha? You don't have too

Anway, loveee youuu allll 🫶🏻🫶🏻💛❤️🩷💜💖💕

Hi there love! 💜

Oh sweetie i'm sure it's gonna be okay. Surgeries can be scary but remember that you're in good hands, they know what they have to do and they know how to do it. You'll feel better afterwards I promise you baby

Anyway, if the surgery hadn't happened yet i give you all of my strenght and if it already happened then first of all i'm sorry it didn't came out before to reassure you but I hope it can help you relaxing right after. I pray so that everything will be going well!

If you have the chance or if you want, I would love to have an uptade on you sweetie <3 (no rush andyou don't have to if you don't want to ;)

Have all the rest you can! And take avantage of it, you can be the little princess for as long as you you need it after the surgery ❤️

PS : it's a short one but I really wanted to get it done for the day of your surgery &lt;3

****

Warnings : surgery comfort, fear, reassurance, kisses, pet names, love

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : they gave you all of their attention for your stressful day

*****

"i scaed, daddy" you say with a trembling voice. Your body is covered by the white sheets of the hospital room and your eyes hurt from the vif color.

The fact that you have to wait is adding to your anxiety and your fear. You learned yesterday that you had to be operate and since then your anxiety couldn't stop growing.

"I know baby, i know. but you remember what we talked about yesterday night ?"

It was almost midnight and you couldn't sleep at all. You got up from bed and went to your Daddies, you were too scared for the next day and needed comfort from them more than ever.

You sneak into their bed and noticed that they were awake too "what are you doing here little one ?" your Daddy asks while sitting down.

Your Papa light up his nighstand lamp and sit down beside your Papa "why aren't you sleeping ? It's really late"

"i scaed"

"oh sweetie"

"baby look at me" your Daddy asks, caressing your knee to calm you down. You look at him with tears in your eyes "you need to do the surgery, i know it's very scary and i understand it but you need it."

"You'll be less in pain afterward and we'll be there for you through it all. You'll never feel alone, not even once. We won't leave your side and you'll feel us beside you at each seconds. I promise you"

You sniff and look at your Papa "do you trust us ?" you nod. "do you believe in us ?" You nod again. "Then for as long as we're standing beside you, nothing bad will happen"

A few tears fall down your cheeks and you crawl toward their open arms. They held you close to them until you fall asleep.

"do you still trust us ?" Your Papa asks. You nod, a scared look on your face "then trust us when we say that it's gonna be alright. We will be right here when you wake up"

"pomise ?"

"we promise princess" he kisses your little hand.

~

"hi babydoll" Your Daddy's hand caresses your forehead as your tired eyes finally opened. It's been ten minutes that you're waking up and then falling back asleep because of anesthesia.

"keep it easy, princess" your Papa rushes toward you "you have all the time you need to come back on earth" He kisses your forehead to reassure you.

"everything went well, your surgery is done and nothing bad happened. You're fine now" just like they promised you

[dozing-marshmallow]

could i maybe request some yandere!chris mclean headcanons if thats alright with you? (bonus points if its with a reader that lowkey fears him)

ps love ur work, you're one of the very small amount of people that write for my man chris

Helloo, and of course it’s alright!! Thank you for the request, I hope these headcanons below are good enough, and aw thank you, I appreciate that! 💗 (Don’t worry, I plan on posting Chris McLean content for a long time ;).) YANDERE!CHRIS MCLEAN HEADCANONS 

Chris didn’t know what to do. He had never cared so much about another living person before.

But here he was, hiring a private investigator to find out everything he could about you.

For someone who was meant to be his personal assistant, you noticed he was way too proud to showcase you to the public and showered you with more gifts than you had received your entire childhood.

Because of this uncontrollable hearts for eyes he had for you, he had an internal conflict pulling him from both sides of his head. Should he use you as a punching bag for laughs or should he reserve your body as its natural state?

Nahh he already had those moronic teenagers to feed his sadism- Alright, but imagine how good it’ll feel to see you cry...and hear your pleads...for him to stop...

Such that human life was too cheap for him.

Don’t worry, Chris isn’t the type of yandere to tie you down in a dark basement whenever he has to leave for extended periods: instead, he was more than happy to still have you on the show, as long as you played along for the cameras. Now that you knew the full truth behind his continuous gift showering and sweeter treatment, hearing him hide the lovesickness in his voice everyday to the others made you nauseous.

Another day of agony led you to his same heavenly bed.

Nothing was as enjoyable as it used to be.

At least the guy was loyal- he gave up on attending parties and social events, unless he arranged his own with you, and was immune to alternative admiration.

That doesn’t mean it got better. Occasionally, Chris appears to have let his darker conscience win, seeing how he would stick his saliva into your wounds with his tongue where your warm blood cried, or caught it to use as an ingredient for his coffee.

One day, he must have wondered what it’d look like for the roles to be reversed, openly admitting it as you drank your hot chocolate that he had mixed some of his blood in it so that “you could always have a piece of me inside of you.”

“How...can you give me something with your blood in it to drink!?” You spluttered horrified, wiping your mouth.

For a second, it’s like he gained a realising glimpse at what he’s done, but then happily turns it into a milestone,“Haha okay, I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t think about how messed up that was until I heard you say it. Soooo, I might be a bit of a masochist? Whoo! Love really does teach you things you never knew about yourself, doesn’t it, my love, (Y/N)? I love that name, by the way. (Y/N). It suits you reaaaaaaally well!”

Yeah and thanks to him, you grew to hate it.

It spirals to the sickening point where Chris didn’t even want anyone else to look at you, whether it was from the screen or in person. How did he ensure this? Simple. You were going to make one final appearance on Total Drama to bid your departure from show business so nobody would suspect your absence in future episodes.

Well, it worked. So authentic that no one thought of anything more when you started sobbing right there and then or how Chris came to escort you away.

Albeit your friends and family weren’t deceived for long when they never heard from you again.

And it’s going to stay that way, for Chris paid the police department situated in Ontario to ignore, close, reject all reports filed in your name. He may as well have removed your citizenship.

The frightening power of the bourgeoisie.

Now you were truly prohibited from leaving his grounds.

“Why the long face, (Y/N)? Aren’t you happy?”

“No...” You tremble,“I... I want to go home...so badly.”

“Home?” He twirls you around, hands gripped on your shoulders in true puzzlement,“This is your home.”

“No, it’s...not. I...don’t belong here... You scare me.”

“Huh? Me? Scare you? (Y/N), whatever do you mean? Everything I’ve been doing so far...is for you! Now that we don’t have to worry about the police, it’s way easier for us to be together in peace! See how thoughtful I am, (Y/N)? No need to thank me.”

“Chris I’m sorry, but...” you wince, knowing such bold answer may trigger a dangerous reaction,“I can’t...reciprocate. See, I didn’t know th...there was something else you wanted from me other than me working for you... I...think you’d be better off spending your time and love on someone else.”

“Oh (Y/N),” he chuckles darkly, sprinkling your disbelieved face with kisses,“It’s all these well meaning, pure hearted things you say that has me falling more and more in love with you... I’m not worried you don’t feel the same. In fact, I honestly couldn’t care less. As long as I can hear you breathe...”

He could hear it alright. Just the same in his sleep... Perfect.

[missy-0-piink]

Imagine instead of fucking fyodor with a dildo or a strap you use the muzzle of a gun. Of course you have the safety on but he doesn't know that and he's begging you to not pull the trigger and all you can do is smile down at the poor baby. <3

Soooo, I’ll add a scenario to your ask because it’s the only way I see him being caught unawares

Also the gun isn’t on safety- it’s empty, because it would still ruin fyodors trust because there is a chance that a firearm (especially if faulty) could go off even with the safety on

It’s too much for him to risk that happening again so if reader did that he’d probs leave them

Hope you don’t mind!! 🤗

Ummmm, also, this is kind of dubcon (I’m calling it that to make it seem nice) but yeahhhhh

Also TW:

Dubcon

Toxic reader

————

He wakes up with a small gasp, eyes shooting open as something cold presses against his rim

What the-

He tries to move his arm down and stop whatever the fuck it is, but his movements are stopped harshly by some kind of… restraint??

When had he been restrained?

He whipped his gaze down… and is met with your blazing eyes, glinting ominously in the moonlight that falls through the window

“(Name)-“ he says, surprise evident in his voice, “-what are you doing?!”

“I’m punishing you.” You say, emotionless as that cold thing keeps prodding at his entrance

“Are you serious?” He scoffs, smirk playing on his lips, “you can try all you want, but-“

(You knew he wouldn’t be able to tell the him was unloaded, the safety was off and he couldn’t feel the weight of the gun so he’d obviously assume it’s loaded and ready)

And in the blink of an eye, that cold thing is pressed against his temple,

“Shut. Up.” You say, voice deceivingly quiet for the threat that lurks beneath them

His eyes are wide, and it’s the first time he’s ever feared you

When did you get a gun?

He knew that you were angry at him, the very heated argument you had earlier that had evolved into you screaming at him while he dismisses your valid claims attesting to that. He knew you had… mental troubles, but surely you wouldn’t take it so far as to actually kill him!

“(N-name), if this is about before, then I’d like to apolo-“ he tries to say, but you cut him off, a hand clamping over his mouth

“I’m going to punish you, ok?” You say coldly, eyes wide and bloodthirsty

All fyodor can do is nod in response, watching with wide eyes as remove your hand and slink the gun back down to his hole

He’s faintly trembling, you notice, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. You’ve caught him completely off guard, and it scares him that you have all the faculties to end his life. Right here. Right now.

“Open” you command, and fyodor does as you say, spreading his legs so you can have easier access to his ass

You pour some lube on the muzzle of the gun, before slowly pushing it against his rim, then inside of him

His breath hitches, he can’t believe he’s got a gun inside of him-

Once it’s gone the furthest it can go, you pull it out, angling it to where you know you’ll get a reaction- and start thrusting ut in and out at a brutal pace

Fyodor yelps, the rigid metal pounding against his walls and g spot

It feels disgustingly good while simultaneously feeling like it’s going to bruise his prostate, and he moans aloud when you stop to grind the muzzle against it

His cock fills out, and he’s ashamed that such a thing is making his dick leak.

“Tell me, wouldn’t this be such a pathetic way for the great Dostoyevsky- the great demon fyodor- the self acclaimed right hand man of god to go out?!” You ask, a maniacal smile on your face as you watch fyodor squirm

His heart drops at that- which is why he doesn’t understand why his cock twitches?!

“N-no! (Name), think this- think this through, please Milaya!” He gasps out, body twitching as he tries to obey you and not close his legs- he can’t afford not to listen to you, you could very well murder him for it.

“Why should I? You never think through what I have to say, do you?” You sigh out, voice laced with disappointment as you look forlornly at where the gun is pressed into fyodor

“I-I’m sorry! Ah! Milaya, you know I love you-ngh-do you not? We-we can compromise, I’ll listen to you and-“

“So you admit you don’t listen to me!? That you won’t respect me-“ you cut him off, harshly ramming the gun into fedyas hole, sure to cause pain

“Gah! “ he screams out, the jolt of pain and pleasure shooting up his spine, “No, I didn’t- that’s not- myshka, please! Forgive me, don’t do someone you will regret-“

“Will I, though?” You muse aloud, speeding up the pace of which you thrust the gun into him

He tries to form words, but he’s getting close, the feeling of the- now warm- metal pressing into and melding his walls pushing him closer and closer

“Don’t you dare cum, fyodor” you say darkly, and yet the way you continue the most pleasurable pace and angle for him completely contradicts your words- as though you want him to cum

So he can’t help it when he arches his back, moaning loud as he cums, trembling. Thick fluid splashes onto his abdomen, dirtying his pyjama top and dripping down his dick

Once he realises what he’s done, he snaps his head to you, eyes blown wide and becoming glassy as his lips tremble

“Milaya- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean-“ he tries to say, but you place a finger over his lip, shushing him

“Shhhh, you broke the rules. You know what happens now, don’t you?” You say, making a show of pointing the guns muzzle- that still inside of him- towards where his organs would be, and slowly pulling the trigger

“Wait- Milaya dont!” He screams out, panicked as tears drop down his face

Click!

An… empty round?

Fyodor sighs, relaxing into the bed as he quietly sobs- too many emotions going through him at once:

Relief

Anger

Amusement

(Love)

“Oh baby, it’s ok. Just wanted to teach you a lesson,” you say as you brush his hair away from his face, cupping it in your hands

Tears roll down his face as he gasps, body still trembling from the adrenaline

“Shhhh, it’s ok” you say as you proper his face with kisses

“I’d never do that to you”

————

Had to add some fluff, so sorry if that’s not want you wanted haha

Love this idea by the way, one of my fav tropes tbh

[cissyenthusiast010155]

hey ha! saw requests are open so i take the chance and may request something also sorry for the english 👉🏿👈🏿 soooo the thing is im obsessed with lucifer from sandman in an unhealty way and there is this idea in my head that lives rentfree so luci saves f/reader that is trapped "in" a demon that shows them there bigges fear and all the things and people that they did something to they regret so we are crying and fearing but luci comes like " T_T...you shouldnt be here" grabs over our shoulder puts there wing protectiv around our back und guids us to the illusion that the demon is creating at a point where the illusion brings us to hesitate the next steps luci push us forward and be like the lightbringer angel they are and we are like 🥲🥲🥲 mhmhm thanks and fluff stuff

i know its kinda specific and its ok if your not up to this but want to drop here im a fan of your writhing so im looking forward to everything you post xD

so have a good one ans thanks for your time 🌚❤️

Hiiii anon!! Thank you for the request! It’s detailed, and I love that 🥰 I tried to follow your request as best as I could. Hope you Enjoy!! 💞💞

Shadow Shadow ~Soft!Lucifer Morningstar xGN!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: angst, happy ending fluff, demonic possession, crying, anxiety, implied anxiety attack, greatest fears, comforting, pet names, fluff ending, etc.

Enjoy (:

The dishes had piled up in your kitchen sink. They had been bothering you all day, so with a sigh, you got up and went over to address them. You started cleaning the dishes one by one…

Your ears perked up when you thought you heard the door move. You looked back at the kitchen door, but it hadn’t moved. Odd, you thought.

Suddenly, you felt something invade you.

The feeling was hard to explain… Your eyes rolled back and you started levitating off the ground slightly, as a sharp, yet un-uniform, non-physical shape pierced and entered you. You let out a strangled scream as you started to feel your body go numb. You were sucked into yourself, having no control over your body anymore, somebody else was now at the wheel.

Everything around you was dark. You could still vaguely see through your eyes, but you were being pulled into the darkness more and more.

Suddenly you were pulled into a memory filled with true fear and terror. You started to shake as you were forced to relive these twisted thoughts and memories. They were warped, having heightened fear and fright. You started crying, falling to the ground and shaking uncontrollably.

You didn’t know how long you were in those state, but you were cradling yourself on the ground, scared to death and sobbing uncontrollably.

Suddenly, you heard a voice, not one of your own.

“You should not be here…!” The booming voice exclaimed.

You then felt the invasion start to be pulled out of you.

The feeling was still hard to explain… Your eyes rolled back and you started levitating off the ground slightly, as a sharp, yet un-uniform, non-physical shape pierced you once more, but this time exiting you. You let out a strangled scream as you started to feel your body come back to you. You were sucked back out of your depths, having finally control over your body again, the somebody else at the wheel now gone.

When your vision came back to you, you saw a tall figure with strong wings standing in front of you. You were still shaken and scared for your life. Your lip trembled and you immediately put your hands in front of your face to protect yourself.

“My name is Lucifer.” The large being spoke softly, bringing one of their wings around you, “What’s your name, little thing?”

The wing around you made you oddly calmer. You felt protected. And you felt like you could finally breathe.

“I… Y/N…” you whispered, wiping the tears away for your eyes.

Lucifer nodded slowly in understanding.

“That is a lovely name.” They cooe, “I am sorry that you had to experience that, my sweet…”

“What… W-what was that…?” You whispered.

Lucifer sighed.

“One of my more roudy demons who got away from me.” They admitted, “It won’t happen again. You need not worry.” They reassured you.

“No but what was that…?” Your voice trembled as you thought back to the horrific feeling that you had felt in every bone of your body for that time.

You winced and tears threatened to spill down your cheeks once more. Lucifer sighed in sympathy.

“You see, Demons like to thrive off of the human mind… And this demon specialized in fear” They explained gently, “So the demon pulled out your biggest fears to feed off of and survive inside you. Humans call this possession.”

Tears began to flow down your face once more. You nodded at their words.

“It was so awful…” you choked out, your voice cracking.

Lucifer’s wings held you closer and their hand came behind you to rub your back.

“I know, little one…” they cooed lovingly, “But the demon is gone now. It will never bother you again.”

“Ok…” you whispered, looking up at the Lightbringer with watery eyes.

“Thank you” you choked out.

“Anytime, little one…” Lucifer gently spoke, “I’ll come back to check on you soon, alright…?”

You hiccuped and nodded. Then Lucifer left and you were back in your kitchen. With your dishes.

~~~

Lucifer Morningstar Masterlist

[tflaw]

— STONE COLD $OBER.

It is a birthday gift he will not forget anytime soon.

꒰ა ❤︎ ໒꒱ . . . kaeya alberich x afab!reader. knight!reader. reader is implied to be smaller than kaeya. unprotected. fingering. cunnilingus. exhibitionism.

++ kaeya soooo flirty ! i love him . the only man ever <3 this is for the kaeya nation && for his birthday <3 i had sm fun writing this one and i hope you'll get to feel the same joy while reading !! lots of luv <3

There is a sense of foreboding in the City of the Wind. It crawls like insects along the spine of both Knights and Adventurers alike. Having witnessed and heard the dire situations outside the solid walls of the city, it is easy to map the unease across the faces of Mondstadt’s protectors. 

Clouds gathered above the towering Cathedral like blocks of grey stone hiding the sun, allowing only its bursting rays to escape and provide scarce light. It will pour soon, no doubt. A signal to make haste. 

“What?” You turn away from your stallion to face the junior knight standing nervously before you. His lashes flutter in anxiety, mouth slightly trembling. “He needs me now? And it’s urgent?” you pump each word with disbelief.

“Y… yes, Lieutenant,” he replies. “Captain Kaeya said to meet him at his office as soon as possible. And he… he won’t dismiss me unless you visit him before leaving.” 

To rein in your fragile patience, you inhale a good amount of air while looking up at the dark clouds. He had all the time to summon you earlier but he did not. You only have him to blame if anything goes awry and if you end up behind schedule.

“Hold this. I’ll be back shortly.” You push the reins to the knight’s hands before making your way inside the Headquarters. 

Knights have been running to and fro in preparation for a week’s expedition to the forests led by the Acting Grand Master, Jean. The Abyss Mages have been restless, daring so much as to harass the people in Springvale. Carts have also gone missing and burned, resulting in delayed supplies and a fearful Mondstadt. 

Captain Kaeya is looking down at the preparation from his windows when you barged in. Along with an empty bottle of Dandelion Wine, there are scattered papers on his oak table and crumpled ones littered over the floor. From the far corner of the room, a divan is placed with folded sheets atop it, which divulged all that you need to know about Kaeya’s sleeping schedule as of late. 

“Captain, you summoned for me?” You concealed your exasperation with flat curiosity, standing straight and saluting. 

He slews around and whatever it is that has been marring his face disappeared in an instant. “Ah, yes,” he says, examining your body from the head down while leaning one hand on his table to gather some parchments. “I’ve deduced that I need someone to lend me a hand inside the walls. Work has been piling up—” he says while waving the paper across the width of the oak table to make a point, “— as you can see.” 

“I’ll ask Otto to stay, then—”

“Otto is not who I need,” he interrupts, shooting you with a knowing stare. 

Fathoming out straight away the meaning behind his reply, your shoulders tighten. “The situation is dire, Captain. They’ve called for reinforcements,” is your determined response.

“And?” Kaeya spreads the parchments on the wooden surface, wearing the pretense of observing the letters. “You are needed here, too.” 

You would have gawked at him had you not considered his reaction before storming into his workroom. Kaeya seldom utters dissent against your plans, especially when it’s for the sake of Mondstadt. However, something stirred up in the air between you after a drunk night at Angel’s Share. 

It left a bitter taste on your tongue thinking that his reluctance to let you go had something to do with a night of yours and his clothes scattered around his floor. Skin kissing skin as you find refuge in each other’s lips. 

“I won’t— can’t— abandon my squad, Captain,” you insist. He would need to rope you down some posts if he truly wishes to stop you. 

“What about your grandmother, then? You’d leave her during this storm?” His good eye bore into you: the periwinkle having the glint of mystery. 

Your heart softens only a fraction at the mention of your beloved grandmother. It’s true that she is the sole reason for your reluctance over the past few days. Coming back from your reverie, you clear your throat. “Miss Mona has been so kind as to reassure me that she would look after Granny.” 

“Mona?” He slapped the paper on the table and stared at you as if affronted. “Why Mona?” 

“Because she lives next door…?” You cannot decipher his current disposition. Why would it offend him in the first place? “Look, Captain,” you sigh, “I would love to lend you a hand but we are needed outside.” 

Rendered silent for a moment, Kaeya grips the table’s edge with both hands. He must’ve found himself strange for the way he acts and decided to shake his head. 

“Then,” he continues, “you will not be here on the 30th?”

Your confusion deepens. “No. I’m afraid I will not.” 

Kaeya gives a grim nod before dismissing you with a shrouded expression. An expression you did not have the explanation for until you hopped on your stallion. 

It is Kaeya’s birthday on the 30th, and you will not be here to celebrate with him. Feeling as though your heart has turned lead, you ventured quickly to the blacksmith before bidding Mondstadt goodbye. 

—

Fending off Abyss Mages and destroying hilichurl camps have never been this severe. Usually, a group of Knights could finish the job in less than a week. 

Looking at the carnage before you with the grunts and whimpers of your comrades as background noises just strengthened Cyrus’ warning before you were dispatched. 

Something is definitely amiss. Aside from the Fatui constantly and condescendingly browbeating Mondstadt, the Abyss Mages has also become more than a nuisance. 

Days of fighting had dried your supplies. Blades have gone dull and many ended up injured. Even with the help of your Visions, it had been a rough week against the Abyss. You can barely consider it victory from the damages your squad obtained.

However, you convince yourself that the gashes and bruises are worth it as you drew closer to the city gates, where a crowd has gathered to greet the approaching Knights. 

“Oh, thank Lord Barbatos!” your grandmother exhales, caging you in her arms like how she did when you were a kid. “Thank Lord Barbatos for bringing you back to me, sweet child!” 

The longing for home seized you at once. You haven’t been able to stop the tears as you sob in her embrace.

“Oh, my sweet grandchild,” she cooed, patting your back to salve the quiver of your shoulders. “There, there. It’s alright. I have something to make you feel better.” 

“What is it, Granny?” You sniff, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. 

“I have prepared you your favorite meal!” she squeaks, folding your hand inside hers. “Come, come!” 

You let her tug you inside the city with a giggle. Before you part ways with the crowd, your eyes spotted Kaeya near the antique shop. He acknowledges you with a slight nod, which you answered with a smile. You have no explanation for it, but your heart skyrocketed at his sight.

“You ought to thank the Captain for me,” Granny says with a bright smile on her face, noticing the exchange between you and Kaeya. “He visited day and night since the day you left. And every time he did, he had with him a meal or two. A gallant and handsome young man who cares for the elderly: his likeness is not so common nowadays.”

Come eventide, the zest in its infinitesimal degree continues to grow in the pit of your stomach as you make your way to Angel’s Share. You have put a strict order in your nerves, feeling as though they are in a frenzy for thinking about Kaeya and the weight of your birthday gift in hand. Although dog-tired and weary, you wouldn’t sleep peacefully if another day ends without meeting the Captain. 

It’s a peculiar feeling, you must say. Your days outside of Mondstadt had been occupied with endless fighting, but after each tedious day, you found yourself yearning for home. For your grandmother and for… Kaeya. Your duty certainly has put a leash on the growing habit of thinking about the Captain, and yet you feel its fetters shattering once the chaos of Angel’s Share looms ahead. 

Over the songs and joyous conversation, you search the crowd but Kaeya is missing on his usual spot. Rosaria and Venti the Bard sit and share a bottle, their cheeks already flushed from the alcohol they have ingested. 

“Oh? Are you looking for someone?” Venti notices your standing frame and waves. “Why don’t you sit for a while?” 

Your lips stretch to a smile, seeing your friends’ familiar faces after days of being away. “I’m looking for Captain Kaeya. Was he here by any chance?” 

“He had just gone out,” Rosaria answers while swirling the ice in her glass. “Not in the mood to drink himself senseless, I suppose.” 

“Hm. That’s new. The wind is certainly changing. What do you think, my friend?” Venti slurs, pointing the question to you. 

“It is certainly unusual.” As doubt creeps in, you grip the box tightly. “I shall leave you two, then.” 

“Will you come back?” Rosaria looks at you over the rim of her glass. 

“We will see.” 

The air is invigorating outside the pub. Fresh and new like a promise of peace after the gruesome weeks. It has cleared your mind, reminding you once again that you are home and safe. 

You run a finger over the simple wooden box which encased your gift. The zeal you have felt now poisoned by trepidation. Why are you even nervous in the first place? It’s a gift from a friend to a friend. Who knows? Maybe it is far too simple compared to the ones Kaeya have received. If such is the case, you wouldn’t have to worry about him getting the wrong message. And what sort of message did you want to convey? Seeking him the night of your return, when you should be fast asleep to regain your strength? 

Luckily, the knights posted in front of the Headquarters have seen Kaeya ascend to the rooftop. 

He is alone when you found him, arms leaning over the parapet while looking at the horizon where the distant plains and mountains gathered. 

“How was your birthday, Captain?” you say as a greeting. 

He turns his head to see you, lips tugging up to a soft smile before returning his gaze to the view. “As one would expect: anticlimactic,” he rasps. 

“Anticlimactic? The birthday of Kaeya Alberich was anticlimactic?” A soft giggle resonates from you paired with his own. As he laughs, you have taken the chance to admire his features. 

There is certain obscurity in the way he carries himself, like a sharpened knife ready to strike any minute. However, it is also easy to be enamored when he walks by. He is like a forbidden fruit you would die to taste. 

“Yes. I couldn’t put myself to celebrate when danger hovers over Mondstadt,” he answers, swerving his attention to you without warning that you fear he caught you staring. 

“You did not indulge in any kind of celebrations, then?” Your heart begins to run errant, for some reasons unknown. And you wonder if it’s the same for him. If he is as delighted as you about this reunion. 

He shrugs. “I shared a drink with Rosaria and the Bard. Lisa was there, too, but she had to go back early to the library. And well… Diluc gifted me a bottle of wine and stayed until we were done drinking. I guess that accounts for something.” 

“How about we drink tonight?” you offer, searching for his face. “Let me make it up to you.”

Kaeya huffs as a smile shapes his handsome face to glee. “Just don’t expect me to carry you home once you end up too inebriated to walk.”

“Likewise, Captain,” is your quick riposte. He pushes his spine straight, ready to descend when you suddenly raised the box before him like a bashful teenager. “But… but before anything else… take this. My gift to you.” 

“A gift?” he repeats, eyebrow raised to his forehead. His fingers brush against yours when he took the box from your hand. With care, he unfastened the small latch. And as the moon reflects on the gift, a beam of light was cast on Kaeya’s face. He looks at you, then, periwinkle iris glazed with wonderment. Like a child receiving a new toy, he sounds amused when he said: “A Vision case?” 

Heart soaring at the reaction, you nod eagerly. “Yes.” 

“It’s… perfect,” he almost gasps the last word, which made it all better. He is elegant in many ways: cards close to his sleeves. Seldom would the Captain show his boyish side. 

You are somehow awed by his animation. 

“Well,” you huff, “it should be. It is made by Wagner, after all.” 

His head shoots up. “Wagner? The blacksmith? This was not a purchase, then?” 

“No. I…” You breathe. The crisp air proves inadequate to blow away the warmth on your cheeks. Now that you have to tell him the manner in which the Vision case has been made, fear solidified in your chest. However, he encourages you to speak with the bob of his chin. “I hope you wouldn’t find it vain that the gift was fashioned from my melted dagger. I… I had only realized your birthday approaching the day of my departure. And so, I had no time to prepare for a proper gift—”

The metal presses coolly on your cheek when Kaeya has taken your face and captured your lips. His lips are demanding, and despite your confusion, you answered his kisses with the same fervor. He spins you around so your back is against the balustrade before the kiss deepened, addling your brain and blocking all thoughts. 

The both of you are running out of air when he pulled away. His eyes are hazy with something you couldn’t quite name. 

“I… I do not want to drink,” he says, breath fanning your lips. “I want to do this while I’m sober.” 

“Fuck me, Kaeya.” A newfound courage blossoms in your heart, stupefying the Captain as he tenses under your touch. 

“Say that again,” he grits, jaws tight. 

“Fuck me.” You grip his collar and shake him lightly. “Do you want to fuck me?” 

It is as if the air has been all knocked out of his lungs. He takes a huge gulp of the night air and says, “Archons, all the time. All the time.” 

You have become driftwood after that point in time, allowing the crashing tides to carry you whither. All that you know is the air blowing between your thighs, Kaeya discarding his gloves, kneeling, and pushing his head between your legs as you stand clinging to the balustrade. 

“Captain…” Your voice trembles when he kisses your exposed cunt. The thrill of being half naked on the Headquarters’ rooftop adds to your pleasure. 

“More,” he whispers. “I need you ready.” 

You clamp a hand on your mouth when he pushes two fingers in while licking the clit. From where you stand, you can see the knights posted outside, clueless as to what is happening above them. Suddenly, the other guy tilts his head up and meets your eyes at the same time Kaeya scissors his fingers through your pussy. The guy salutes and you, weak and melting, raise a shivering hand to wave. 

He could go on forever, you think. Kaeya could stay here for eternity with his tongue on your pussy and his fingers diving in your insides. 

“Ah—” you gasp, nails raking the rough stone of the parapet. “C… Captain!” Legs trembling, your heart sinks as the men from below tilt both their head up. You force a toothed smile to cover your embarrassment. 

Your hand bolts to his hair, tugging a handful before pressing your pussy down on his mouth. “Archons, Captain, I’m cumming—” 

At your signal, Kaeya grabs your flesh, sucking in your cunt long and hard until you spasm above him. Eyesight blurry, your mouth went ajar and your chest begins to pound: the climax hitting you hard. Kaeya laps you clean before standing up and unbuckles his belt. 

You shared a sloppy kiss while he pumps himself with one hand. Kaeya positions from behind, lining his erect cock to your entrance. Its soft crown presses against your wet hole, eliciting a whiny moan from you. 

Overwhelmed with anticipation, your mind instantly evaporates when he rams himself in. He gasps onto your neck, grabbing your waist to pin his cock. You shiver, feeling him all up inside your walls, sporadically spasming and jamming his whole shaft through your slabbering cunt hole. 

“C… Captain…” you mewl, pushing away from the balustrade before letting yourself go completely. You have not a mind to think as each thought turn to mush with his fevered thrust. Archons, it feels good to be fucked like this, is all you could think of— or your poor attempt at thinking. 

He is vehement, sliding one hand inside your shirt as he hugs both your arms, locking them behind you. Your swollen breast pops out of the fabric covering it while the other one remains restrained. He flicks your rigid nipple, whispering in your ear how much he wants to suckle on the bud. 

It is lewd. Everything about the skin slapping skin and the sweat trickling from where you are connected is lewd that it makes your heart ache and rejoice. No matter how ironic it is. 

He is fucking you like how you deserved: hot, needy, and greedy. Balls deep and straight up to your guts. He leans and reaches for your abandoned clit, rubbing it with his middle finger. Your legs immediately clamped together, trembling hand reaching for his wrist. 

“I’m going to cum!” you sob in ecstasy, chasing your breath in such an agonizing manner. “K… Kaeya!” 

“Can I do it inside? Is it safe?” he bombards the question, moaning after like a man depraved of meat. 

“Ah, yes,” you exhale, cunt twitching when you felt him become even more rigid. “Yes! Yes!” 

At the permission, he sheathes himself inside you to the root, giving you one profound pounding that  reached your insides. And then he is shooting thick amounts of white cum into your womb, holding you tightly so that you cannot move. 

You quiver in his arms, lost and panting after such intense battering. In absolute dissolution, he holds you as both of your bodies slide down. 

What transpired on the rooftop did not satiate your lust. Behind his office doors, you begin to think that it merely scratches the surface of the wanting that you seek to satisfy. 

Inside his office, you have thrown all inhibitions and rode him until your knees began stinging and until he couldn’t physically cum anymore. Even after all the exhausting fucking, it was not enough. The first thing you have done after waking up was to fuck again, until both your legs are shivering from the high and none of you can stand anymore. 

Another day burst into the skies of Mondstadt. The sun rises from the horizon, a ball of fire that gathered all living things to one promise of a hard-fought peace. 

Knights are scattered around the Headquarters when you finally managed to flee from Kaeya’s grip, albeit reluctantly. With sensitive thighs, you have gone straight to the exit, ignoring the curious looks of knights thrown at you. At this point, it is not a secret that you have been seeing the Captain for reasons that encompass your duty. However, it is nobody’s business and you doubt anyone has the guts to confront you or Kaeya. 

“So, you slept in his office?” 

You turn to see Lisa leaving the library. She looks at you cheekily, as if trying to read your face. “No. I did not. I visited him early this morning,” is your jovial reply. Lisa knows it, too, no doubt. 

“Wearing the same clothes from last night?” She elbows your ribs playfully. 

Cackling heartily, you hop from one stair to the next. “I need to wash. See you around, Lisa.” 

Later that afternoon, Jean called for an impromptu meeting to fill in the rest of KoF about the recent expeditions. Despite the wounded and the sight of bandages wrapped around the heads of numbered knights, there is glee circulating the air. 

“Lieutenant, one might think you’re in good spirits today. Has anything happened?” 

You shrug, daring him with coquettish eyes. “Oh, I have had a deep sleep is all. I guess it is good to be home.”

His mouth curls up to a grin. Kaeya pushes closer to you, leaning to whisper, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” you challenge. 

“Like you want me to fuck you.” 

You swallow a gasp, doing your utmost to remain composed. “Maybe I do.” 

Kaeya’s breath is warm on your cheek. Personal space is definitely lost in his vocabulary as he inched closer again. “Lieutenant, that’s a proposition I’m more than willing to oblige. Tonight, then?” 

“Why not now?” 

Your question has stolen the grin from his lips. Light crosses his eyes before tilting his head up slightly and releasing a throated chuckle. He gathers your hand ever so inconspicuously, squeezing your delicate fingers, and says, “Ah, I am so doomed.”

[spotsandsocks]

♥️🧡💛🌈Fuck it Friday 🌈♥️🧡💛

Tagged by the lovely @hippolotamus @loserdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @daffi-990 @disasterbuckdiaz

Thought I’d be a bit different this Friday- I’ve had a few new readers looking at older fics and remind me of some bits I liked soooo….four snippets from four different fics- the part where the ♥️♥️♥️ is revealed. It’s just a small taste….maybe you’ll want to read the rest maybe not but at least it’s colourful

If You Break It 3.2k

“Buck? I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to tell you like this. I was working on a plan.”

“I know him?��� He sounds hurt, he can hear it himself it’s just his brain seems stuck on that fact, he can’t work out who it could be.

Eddie squeezes his hands and catches his eye, “Yeah you do, he’s my best friend.”

“But I’m your best friend.” His voice sounds small and confused even to his own ears.

Eddie’s smiling at him now and one hand has lifted to cup the side of his face tenderly. “I know.”

Let Me Be The Judge of That 3.4k

“I don’t think I can give you a full review until you kiss me.”

Blood rushes past his ears, he feels a little dizzy. In fact he has to reach out and hold onto the doorframe to steady himself. He can’t have heard that right. Eddie didn’t just ask for a kiss.

“Buck?” Eddie touches his arm gently. He looks down at the hand on his arm, Eddie’s hand. He wants to look him in the eye again to see if he’s joking or not but he can’t decide what he’d prefer, which one will break his heart more.

He can’t possibly mean it, not like Buck would want him to mean it.

“You you don’t want me to kiss you, you can’t want that.” He shakes his head,

“I know you don't.”

It's Painted All Over My Face 2.7k

“Eddie” he repeats and his voice sounds unfamiliar, choked with something undefinable.

“I think, “ Buck holds his bottom lip between his teeth briefly, he’s breathing a little faster than usual “ I think I’ve been really patient. I’ve been waiting for a long time but if you’re not going to kiss me soon I need you to stop touching me like that because I can’t … I can’t have that and nothing else.” He opens his eyes and Eddie understands everything all at once.

The Truth Reflected 4k

“I’m admiring the view.” And even though he’s pretty sure he still feels a ripple of nerves as he finally goes for it. “we look good together, don’t you think?” He’s still looking right at him “I think it’s time we do something about it”

“Eddie” Buck's voice is soft, a slight tremble present; longing and fear mixed together.

“Buck.” he puts all his faith in the name, all his love, holds his nerve and his gaze and lets Buck see the truth of them, of what they already are to each other in the reflected image in front of them.

They stare at their reflections in the mirror, a frozen moment between their past and future.

Tags for @underwater-ninja-13 @eddiebabygirldiaz @heartshapedvows @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @rogerzsteven @buddierights @thekristen999 @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela @wildlife4life @housewifebuck @cowboy-buddie @bekkachaos @shortsighted-owl @spaceprincessem @monsterrae1 @the-likesofus @like-the-rest-of-la @elvensorceress @steadfastsaturnsrings @stagefoureddiediaz @bigfootsmom @pirrusstuff

[hp-hcs]

•smut• no sleep till brooklyn — yandere! toxic as hell! theodore nott x ftm! reader

prompt #9 of the slytherin boys x reader thingy i made

9) Theodore Nott + smut + angst + No Sleep Till Brooklyn — Beastie Boys

this man istg 😭🥵

reader is trans ftm, reader has afab anatomy

tws: dub-con (ish?), murder, violence, reader has afab anatomy, reader wears a binder, mentions of past misgendering, possessive & obsessive behavior, incredibly manipulative behavior, more plot than smut because the author is an asexual virgin 🫥

2.5k words long, the smut doesn’t start until 1.2k words in 😐

also theo’s pretty fucked up in this soooo- please don’t be in murderous, manipulative, toxic, obsessive, and/or possessive relationships just for the aesthetic. you deserve better than that.

Warning! Smut ahead! MDNI! (you will anyways let’s be honest)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Based on these lyrics from Beastie Boys’ No Sleep Till Brooklyn:

‘…My job ain't a job, it's a damn good time’ & ‘…Itchy trigger finger but a stable turntable/ I do what I do best because I'm willing and able’

~~~

“Theodore! Stop, please!” you fall to your knees in front of him, fresh tears leaving streaks against your otherwise dirt- and ash-smudged face. Your hands clasp together in a pleading manner as you look up at him desperately.

He looks down at you with no emotion. Like your pleas are nothing more than a mild irritation to him.

More appeals for mercy fall from your lips, your words too jumbled together for even yourself to make out. Your two muggleborn friends remain huddled in the corner, clinging to each other in fear.

Finally, Theodore speaks. “Your wand,” his voice emotionless and cold as he holds his hand out expectantly, showing off that vile tattoo as he does so.

You shakily draw your wand from your robes, gently setting it in his hand. As your fingertips brush against his palm, you shiver.

You could swear you feel him shudder too.

With no preamble, he whips around and mutters,

“Avada Kedavra.”

Your friends.

You watch them fall. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. They crumble, their lifeless bodies hitting the floor with a sickening crack!

He killed them. He killed them. He killed them. Theodore Nott killed your best friends with your wand.

“You motherfucker!” you shriek, lunging at him and tackling him to the ground. He draws in a sharp gasp as you claw furiously at him, practically straddling him as you knot your fingers in his hair to slam his head into the ground.

He groans in pain, dropping his wand while scrabbling for a grip on your frantic wrists. Theodore grunts as he swings a leg over, using the momentum to quickly switch your positions.

He breathes heavily as he hovers over you, his eyes widening and cheeks flushing as he realizes the rather compromising position you both are in. Kneeling between your thighs, your knees pressed against his hips. Both of his hands wrapped around your wrists, pressing them into the floor. You defiantly glaring up at him, nothing but pure burning hatred in your eyes. You writhe under him, scowling and trying to wrench your wrists from his grasp.

“Y/N- Y/N, calm down,” He soothes. “It’s okay, just calm down.”

“Calm down?! You motherfu-”

“Yes, yes, I know. You can curse me out all you want once we get out of here, okay?” He says in a soft tone, moving his hands up to hold both of your wrists in one and free up the other. He cups the side of your face with his free hand, running his thumb along your cheekbone.

You freeze up. “Theo..?”

He smiles down at you with an unnervingly happy grin on his face for someone who had just murdered two people. “I love it when you say my name like that, pretty boy.”

You remain still, completely bewildered and unsure of what to do. He keeps stroking your cheek with a mesmerized look on his face, tracing each of your features like he wants to memorize them.

You tremble slightly, your mind frantically running in circles to make sense of the situation.

Okay. Theodore thinks I’m pretty. That’s good.

Theodore murdered my friends. Bad.

He’s being very sweet and careful. Good.

Murdered my friends. Bad.

“Stop thinking so much, darling,” he mumbles breathily, his thumb trailing down from your cheekbone to your lower lip, dragging it down and watching it spring back up.

“You killed them,” you whisper back, still in disbelief.

Theodore, at least, has the mind to look remorseful. “I’m sorry, precious. But they weren’t a loss.”

“They were my friends! They were my friends and you killed them!”

“Do friends refuse to call you he?” Theo points out scornfully, his face twisting into something much crueler, his thumb rubbing obsessively over a spot at the base of your throat. “I’m your friend, Y/N, sweetheart. You don’t need anyone else, do you?”

Your breath quickens.

He wouldn’t kill me, right?

What would he do if I made him mad?

“I…I guess I don’t.” You say carefully, the phrase walking on eggshells suddenly making a lot more sense as you stare up into his wild eyes.

Suddenly, the crazed look is gone, and Theodore goes back to grinning happily at you as he leans down to peck your forehead.

“See? There’s a good boy. All for me. Mine.”

He leans back up and reaches out for his wand, laying discarded on the floor, and smiles at you once more. You then feel an odd sensation, a bit like what you would imagine squeezing through a tight rubber tube would feel like, and find yourself sprawled out on the freezing, dusty, marble floors of a very rich manor—Theo still on top of you, although now crushing you with his body weight and looking quite a bit out of breath from the exertion of Apparating.

Your chest heaves from the unfamiliar sensation, your head pounding. Theo suddenly scrambles to his feet, leaning down and hoisting you up as if you weighed nothing. Startled and dazed, you stumble at the sudden movement—straight into Theodore’s chest.

He makes a happy sound, wrapping his arms around you tightly and laying his cheek on the top of your head. “Good boy! See? I knew you loved me!”

As much as you hate to admit it, Theo gives a damn good hug.

Merlin, stop it, Y/N! He. Murdered. Your. Friends.

(horny jail, Y/N)

You shiver again, from his touch or from the coolness of the mansion, you aren’t sure.

“Wh-where are we, Theo?” You ask softly, mentally cursing yourself for how small your voice sounds.

“My house,” he responds, eyes closed, a dreamy look on his face. “They’ll never find you here.”

You shiver again.

“Are you cold?” He asks, his eyes opening to look down at you.

You start to reply, but are cut off by Theodore suddenly scooping your legs out from under you and starting to carry you up the grand staircase that dominates the foyer.

You squeak, gripping onto his shoulders in fear. He full on giggles, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“I’m not going to drop you, love.”

He reaches the top of the stairs, entering the first doorway he reaches. It’s a tastefully decorated bedroom, with soft sage walls and lots of tiny things that are just purely Theo.

A pair of dragon-hide boots he got for Yule by the door. A poster for a well-known Quidditch team on the ceiling. A half-finished pack of Camels on the nightstand. The World’s Sluttiest Dad mug Pansy had given him for his birthday last year as a gag gift, now being used as a makeshift ashtray.

Theo carefully deposits you on the center of the large, messy bed as he heads back over to the French doors (fucking rich people) that you’d just entered from, shutting them quietly.

Propping yourself up on one elbow, you watch him return to the bedside like lovesick puppy, toeing off his shoes before clambering onto the bed next to you. He goes back to kneeling over you, his knees on either side of your hips, before gently pushing your elbow out so that you lay back down. He holds himself up by his hands on either side of your head, looking at you for a long moment.

Not moving, just…observing.

He drops down to his forearms, wasting no time in pressing his lips against yours.

You don’t kiss back, frozen underneath him.

Murdered your friends. Bad.

His thumb goes back to sweeping over your cheekbone as his hands cradle your head with the utmost admiration.

Bad. Murdered. Bad. Frien. Bad. Murd. Ba-

You kiss back.

He makes the most delighted sound you’ve ever heard, kissing you with more passion at your reciprocation. He nips at your lower lip, soothing the immediate sting with his tongue.

His hands wander down from the back of your head to your chest, fingers fumbling with the buttons of your uniform shirt. One by one he unbuttons them.

One by one your doubts and guilty thoughts vanish.

When Theodore finally manages to get your shirt open and off, he smooths his hands down the front of your binder. He groans softly into your mouth, his hands running over the flat planes of your chest with utter reverence.

He pulls away from your mouth to lean down and kiss your collarbone, his tongue tracing the along the dip of your throat.

“Pretty boy,” he mumbles again, more to himself than anything. Every motion, every action he makes seems to be fueled by pure devotion to you.

You gasp as he kisses over a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, the fingers you have laced in his hair tugging pleadingly.

“T-Theo-” you beg quietly. What you’re begging for, you’re not quite sure.

He seems to know though. His hands tug at the button of your uniform pants, unzipping them and tugging them down quickly. You pull at his hair again and he moans against your throat.

“Fuck, darling,” he sighs against your skin, tugging down your boxers and gripping at your hips. “So pretty. So gorgeous. All for me.”

“For you,” you agree. “Yours.”

He growls, kissing you again, this time with much more possession behind it. “Mine.”

Your hands slide down from his hair to his shoulders, then to his chest. Reaching for the hem of his t-shirt, you tug it upwards, coaxing him to let go of your hips for just a minute so you can remove the damned thing.

He reluctantly acquiesces, letting go of your body just for a second so he can slip off his shirt and wriggle out of the rest of his clothes, but then his hands are back on you, everywhere. He reattaches your mouths like he’s dying of dehydration and your lips are a damn oasis. You sigh comfortably into his mouth, hesitantly brushing your hand over his chest and admiring his figure.

(Although you’d never admit that’s what you were doing. His ego doesn’t need that.)

While you’re distracted by his abs (sweet Merlin, Theodore Nott has abs), he takes the opportunity to slide one finger inside of you. You squeak in surprise, hips bucking up instinctively.

He laughs softly against your mouth, curling his finger teasingly. You moan desperately, rocking your hips downwards against his hand.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You can’t help but whimper at his words, nodding quickly—doing anything just so he’ll give you more. He laughs again, adding a second finger and starting to move them at a tantalizingly slow pace. Before long, he’s added his ring finger, reducing you to a pathetic, whimpering mess beneath him.

Suddenly, he removes all of his fingers, making your eyes fly open and a displeased whine leave your throat. He shushes you softly, patting your thigh while he rolls on a condom. (wrap it before you tap it, you funky lil sluts &lt;3)

He chucks the empty wrapper into the void where all of your other clothes disappeared to, climbing on top of you and leaning in close.

“Are you sure you want this, love? Just say the word and I’ll stop.”

“If you stop now, I will castrate you, Nott, I swear to Merlin-”

The rest of your threat is suddenly cut off by Theo lining up against you and slowly pushing in. You dissolve into a puddle of moans, fingers scrabbling at his shoulders and clawing at his back.

“H-holy fuck- you're so big-” you whimper, head falling back against the pillows and eyes squeezing shut. He pauses for a minute, rubbing your side reassuringly.

“That's it, there you go, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Theo coos, wiping a lone tear from your cheek. After a moment, you let out a shaky breath and nod for him to continue. He slowly presses the rest of the way in, his body trembling with the exertion of staying still so that you can get comfortable.

Theodore swallows thickly, mumbling something under his breath about you being so fucking tight, sweet Salazar.

You nod your assent again and he slowly pulls out before pushing back in, causing both of you to moan loudly. You lean up to kiss him, almost reverently, and grip his shoulders like a lifeline. The muscles in his back and shoulders move under your hands with every thrust of his body, making your cheeks flush because holy fuck that’s hot.

“Faster,” you beg, delighted when he immediately complies. Theodore's hands roam over the fabric of your binder, fingertips creeping under the hem as he groans loudly.

“Ain’t gonna last much longer, love,” he pants into your shoulder, dragging his fingers down from your chest and to the bundle of nerves outside of your body. His fingers circle around it, not bothering to tease you any further, instead just focused on making you cum.

“Shit!” You curse loudly, raking your nails up his back. “Don’t stop!”

His fingers speed up, finally pushing you over the edge. Your body shudders and shakes around him as Theo finishes inside of you with a guttural moan, his arms trembling before giving out and making him collapse on top of you.

You both pant wildly, desperately trying to catch your breaths. Theo groans and slowly pulls out, wincing in sympathy as you whimper. Tying off the condom and tossing it in the general direction of the trashcan (hooray for safe sex!), he rolls over to collapse back down next to you.

You roll over as well, curling into his side and resting your head on his chest. He looks down at you, surprised, but smiles broadly and runs his hands through your hair.

“I’m still pissed at you,” you mumble sleepily into his chest.

“I could make it up to you,” he suggests slyly, trailing one hand down to your hip.

You snatch up the wandering hand, bringing it back up somewhere safe. “Nope. Don't test your luck tonight.”

He sighs overdramatically, nuzzling his face into the top of your head. “You’re so mean to me.”

“Indeed. How do you ever survive being so bullied?”

He pouts. “Maybe you ought to make it up to me, then. Why don’t you give me a kiss, love?”

You roll your eyes fondly, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss against his mouth.

“See? I knew you loved me.”

“If we hadn’t just had sex literally five minutes ago, I’d tell you to go fuck yourself, Nott.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

first time ever writing smut, can confidently say i’m going to hell now

i’ll send y’all a postcard when i get down there 🫡

if you could tell that i’ve never had sex just from this shitty oneshot, then shush no you can’t

not edited. probably will never be edited. i know myself well enough to know that if i ever read this again, i’ll have a mental breakdown and delete this entire account.

[aliceismypixie]

The villain of my story ∥ All the way to the north

Summary - "The villain will always be the villain if the hero tells the story" or atleast that's what they say. No one knew why you became what you are. But you wanted your revenge on Isabella Marie Swan and you were ready to do anything to have it.

Pairing - Twilight x villain!reader

Pronoun - she/her (but can be read as a male reader or gn reader)

Warning - The reader is an immortal child, burning people, mention of dying (burning)

Words count - 1.43k~

Set - After Breaking-Dawn Part 2

Chapter 3 - Masterlist

"Soooo, is this what villains usually do all day ?" Redacted Renesmee asked, putting a red yellow on the piles of cards.

"Well, I don't think so. But your parents are taking too long to get you and you were being annoyingly talkative so I had to shut you up somehow." You replied, putting a plus four on the piles with a smirk and she glared.

"You're so cheating ! How come you only have good cards while I have almost half of the pack !" The hybrid weird kid exclaimed and you rolled your eyes.

"Life isn't fair child, I don't see why I should use some fair-play when no one was ever fair to me. Plus I love to see your face fall each time you take four cards." You calmly explained and she scoffed before throwing her cards on the ground.

"That's just rude and mean ! Why are you so mean to my family and I by the way ?! It's unfair. We did nothing to you !" Rikki Takki Tavi Renesmee pointed out and you glared at her with a scoff.

"Your mother specifically did nothing when we were younger ! She would never do anything ! Watch from the side or just ignore the truth ! I'm making her suffer like she made me suffer !" Your answer was cold and the kid frowned in confusion.

"My mom wouldn't just make you suffer for nothing !" The golden brunette defended and you rolled your eyes, feeling the fire slowly taking over your palms.

"Spoiled brat like you could never understand." You walked away and locked Renesmee's door behind you.

You could feel the flames wanting to burst out of your fingers as you reached the mail room of your lair and you immediately punched the wall in one swift yet hard motion causing the wall, as well as your cold stone skin, to crack.

You could feel the unshed tears in your eyes of anger as you remembered your childhood. It was horrible. Kids like Roseate could never understand the struggle of being in foster care. Kids like Renesmee were spoiled to the core and they thought that they were better than the rest because they were. They had the power, the looks, the love anyone envied. You never had it. Jumping from house to house but always ending up in the same mess every single time. You were lonely but then you got fostered by the Swans, then adopted by them under Isaella's request and then, she stabbed you in the back and never looked back at you.

You could feel your lips trembling as a few sobs escaped and you fell on the floor, broken, with a cracked hand and a cracked heart, not being able to let out those pained cries nor tears as you closed your eyes.

You were once again suffering.

And only by yourself.

They only had three more days. Most of the Cullens feared that something happened to their little treasure in the past week but Jacob's imprint link was still there. As long as it was there, Renesmee was still alive. And as long as she was alive, they had a chance to save her.

"Do we at least have any clues ?" Leah asked.

"We know that the scent of the stranger is their way of hiding. They smell like lavender and wet grass which makes them blend into nature and hide themselves but, we've got you three. As much as it pains me to admit it… your sense of smell is better than ours so we'll need you." Jasper started and everyone nodded, they were all around the table of the meeting of the Cullen's house.

"When we went out with Seth two days ago, he could pick up their scent going south but we don't know more as we couldn't track it after the river. But we have a lead." Alice explained and once again everyone nodded.

"But what if this was a fake trail, what if they have Renesmee captive but more toward the Canadian border ?" Rosalie asked and everyone took in her words.

"This… could be an eventuality but for now we will check the south. A small group will go up toward the Canadian border to take a look and we will alarm the others if we notice anything." Jasper finished.

Being an ex-soldier of the army was actually pretty cool, and very hot but that was Alice's point of view (and mine), in this type of situation. Everyone could be organized in a military way and knowing that their enemy was a child was just better. Why ? Because as a child you don't think like an ex-military soldier. So they had the upper hand.

They could take their enemy by surprise and for all they know, their enemy was alone while they were twelve. Whoever was targeting them stood no chance.

Or at least they thought so until Alice's eyes turned glossy.

Once again there were flames everywhere. But this time they were still fighting, or at least they were trying to.

In the middle of a battle field stood a little girl, fire bursting from her palm as she aimed toward Emmett who quickly moved out of the way.

Thought there was someone who didn't move behind the big vampire.

It was Rosalie.

And the blond Goddess fell on the ground, screams escaping her lips the fire took over her cold marble skin.

And Emmett turned back around, his expression fell as he saw his wife slowly dying and in his moment of weakness, the little girl shooted him too.

But then the vision changed.

Jasper and Carlisle were the one burning on the ground.

But it changed again.

Esme and Edward.

Seth and Alice.

Jacob and Bella.

Leah and Seth.

Jasper and Emmett.

"Every single duo sent to the north is going to die either way…" Alice trailed off her eyes still looking elsewhere and Jasper clenched his jaw.

"You don't see any alternative ending ?" He asked softly to his wife who shook her head.

"Then we're abandoning the idea." Jasper solemnly announced and Bella frowned.

"But we will need to go to the north eventually. Renesmee could be there !" The shield expressed and everyone turned their attention toward Jasper.

"We can not. Two lives for one isn't―"

"But we're not just talking about one random life Jasper. We're talking about my daughter !" Edward replied stubbornly and Jasper scoffed.

"And I'm not talking about two random lives either Edward. I'm talking about two lives of our family. And Renesmee is not dead yet. We can not risk two lives to save someone who doesn't need saving at the moment." The ex-soldier pointed out and Edward growled.

"Edward, you saw it just like I did. You couldn't possibly think about killing two of us in vain. You already know that the plan couldn't work. Why would you want to send two of us there ?" Alice harshly pointed out and her brother looked toward his tortured wife on the side causing Rosalie to scoff.

"We should have known. You were always like that anyways. Putting everyone's life in danger for a human and now because she's your wife you're ready to sacrifice two of us just for her." The blond beauty expressed with a hint of venom.

See Rosalie Lillian Hale was the perfect example of an anti-hero. The one who does good only if it serves their interest. At least that's what she was in Bella Swan's story. No one clearly tried to understand her point of view. See Emmett tried, but most of the time he simply sticks to his wife. Rosalie Lillian Hale was only on Bella's side when it benefited her. But on the other side, she was probably the most attached to the family after Esme, holding on to the last thing that made her feel human.

But we will not talk about that. Rosalie Lillian Hale was only the anti-hero of Isabella Marie Swan's story.

"Rosalie please…" Esme tried to sooth her first daughter as much as possible until a paper plane passed through the opened window of the living room and posed itself on Rosalie's lap.

"What is that ?" Emmett asked and Rosalie opened the paper, her frown turning into an horrified expression.

"There's not only two of us that will go north." The blond vampire announced putting the paper on the table for everyone to see the words written on the unfolded half burned paper plane.

'All the way to the north you go. Or all the way to south she falls'

Chapter 5

[charcadett]

That part where grusha held the baby had me wondering; what if HE WAS A PARENT?? How would it go? How’s his parenting? I’ve got soooo many questions abt this 😭😭

OOOOOO I LOOOVED THIS ASK. I went a little crazy with it heh. The whole time I was imagining Grusha as a PTA parent. I know he takes that shit SO serious.

Grusha As A Dad

- As awkward as he is with other people’s kids, Grusha is much more natural with his own child. Before they come into his life, whether it's through adoption, surrogacy, or you, he takes time to prepare himself for fatherhood as much as humanly possible. There is no way to be completely prepared to raise a child. Things like that rarely go by the book, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try everything to be the best he can be. You frequently catch him asleep on the couch, a half-read parenting book in his lap.

- When the day finally comes for him to meet his little one, he can’t help how his hands tremble. Gently, as if they’re made of glass, he cradles them against his chest and breathes a small sigh of relief as they gurgle and curl further into his hold. While it may seem silly, Grusha has an irrational fear that they would be disappointed that he was their father. As if an infant would look him in the eyes and voice complaints that a failure of a snowboarder and Gym Leader has become their father.

- Grusha would prefer to be a stay-at-home father. He can be a bit of a helicopter parent, though it is nice that he’s taken such an active role in parenting. You never worried that Grusha would leave you as the sole, sleep-deprived provider. He’s not that kind of man. However, you’re sure you would be the envy of every disgruntled wife on daytime television. A part of you is a little jealous. You have a daddy’s girl/boy in the making. A bigger part of you feels your heart swell knowing your baby will grow up with enough love to power all of Paldea.

- When they finally say their first word, it’s your title instead of papa like Grusha was silently hoping for. He gets a little butthurt about it. His pouting is as cute as his disgruntled whine while you tease him about it.

- He’s a tad competitive with other parents regarding his kid’s milestones. Oh, your baby just started talking? His child was doing that weeks ago! He becomes a bit of a menace on social media. 75% of his posts are humble brags about how awesome his kid is, 20% are pictures of you, and the final 5% revolve around his Gym.

- When your kid is old enough to go to school, he spends most of the first day moping around the house. Without his little buddy around, he isn’t sure what to do with himself. He’s spent the past few years watching cartoons, playing with blocks, and engaging a very imaginative toddler in pretend games. What’s he supposed to do now? It doesn’t take him long to get back into the groove of things, especially with your support. For however much you worry about your kid at school, Grusha is somehow worrying ten times worse. As they grow older, Grusha bonds with them by teaching them how to style and take care of their hair before school. It doesn’t matter what gender your kid is, either way, they love their dad’s long hair. In their younger years, they are happy to emulate him. Their first haircut in their teens is going to shatter Grusha just a bit, though he’s tearfully supportive.

- If his kid expresses interest in snowboarding, he’s conflicted. Logically, he wants to support them however he can, and he can’t help but feel a small surge of joy at the thought. He remembers the thrill well. Emotionally, he wants to keep them far, far away from the sport. In the end, his fear wins out, and he forbids them from it. This results in their first big fight, leaving you to pick up the pieces. You tell your kid that he’s not angry at them, he’s scared. You’ll talk to him. Then, you find Grusha and tell him that he’s being an idiot. He can’t stop them. You both were that age, you know good and well if it’s something they want to do, they’re going to do it. Wouldn’t it be better to be sure they're safe about it? Grusha will argue that all the training in the world won’t save them from being unlucky. You say maybe so, but what would he do if, in an act of rebellion, they sneak up the mountain with his old board, completely untrained? He caves after that.

- Grusha can’t be their snowboarding coach. He knows himself well enough that he would end up worrying himself into an early grave. He can, however, coach them in battling if that’s something they want to do. If there ever comes a day when they take on the Gym Challenge, and they find themself at his Gym, he won’t hold back. No favoritism here. If anything, he’s going harder than he would his other opponents. When they defeat him, he couldn’t be prouder.