#and i will definitely NOT tolerate body shaming

[nanamis-bigtie]

every time i see someone complaining about anime men drawn/described with body hair, i take a mental note to add even more of it on them in my texts

[peachigummi]

is that right? ☏ mattheo riddle.

summary: both your parents had set up an arranged marriage. you both simply tolerated it for the most part, as it really was in the best interest for your respective families. over the year, you started to really develop feelings for each other - especially in wanting to expand the family name.

pairing: mattheo x fem! reader

warnings: jealousy, smut like literal major baby making so there is unprotected p in v and creampie, so breeding!kink, oral sex (giving and receiving), fingering, choking, gagging, slight bondage, almost public but not really?, cock warming... maybe slight daddy/mommy stuff naturally?. i think that's pretty much it fluff at the end. he is rough but talks you through it, praise!kink.

note: this is my first time ever writing smut...omg i almost didnt finish writing this LOL i had to stop midway then I had the post clarity and that shameful feeling HAHAHAH

word count: 7.5k

(slightly not really proofread...again)

reblogs & comments are appreciated! i hope you have fun!! tell me what you think!

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Both your parents had set up an arranged marriage for after you and Mattheo graduated from Hogwarts. You've been married for over a year now, living in a manor that housed both families. There was definitely some tension occurring, recently you’ve both started to further develop feelings. At first you tolerated your union as his family wanted to continue with a strong and pure bloodline, and your family simply wanted protection. 

You were sitting at your vanity, brushing your hair when Mattheo walked out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel around his waist. He gave you a smug look, heading to the walk-in closet, dropping the towel and slipping on his underwear, his back turned to you. You wouldn’t help but press your thighs together at the sight of him, you quickly return to brush the knots from your hair. 

From the vanity mirror you look at his chiseled back muscles. He still looks as good as the first day you met him. You had the luck on your side for that, at least the partner in your arranged marriage was good looking…yet you craved having a chance to fall in love organically. You could count on a single hand how many times you and Mattheo had been physically intimate. 

Mattheo put on a shirt and grey sweats, shit, before walking out of the closet to approach you. “I’ve heard from your parents that you’ve been talking to another guy at work?” he says calmly but firmly.

You thought about it for a second, “Charlie? Yeah, he’s in training.” After graduating Hogwarts you were able to quickly land a job with the M.O.M. while mattheo stuck with DAD…aka the family…business. I moved on to rub body oil on my legs and arms, not looking at him.

He tried to not pay any attention to you as you moved your hands in tight little circles. Mattheo would love a good massage right about now too, he took a step back and sat on his side of the massive bed, “and what do you talk to him about?”

“I mean,” you scoff at him, “Mattheo, it’s just training protocols. Showing him around the work area, how to do things, where things are at. Not much else to it than that.”

He clenched his jaw, he couldn’t deny that he had an attraction to you, but he always told himself to ignore it, “that’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it.” You stood up from the vanity, clicking closed the boy oil. Setting it down where it belonged, you enjoyed having a tidy space. You sat on your side of the bed.

He looked at the way your hips swayed in your night dress as you walked to your side. You turned your head to look back at him. He looked so tense, “I hope you’re not lying.”

You stayed quiet, of course he wouldn’t trust me. You had never given him a reason not to even before the start of this arrangement, so it annoyed you when he doubted you. That might just be his nature though. You slid into the satin bed sheets, they were nice and cool to the touch, much needed after a long day at work. You turned your bedside lamp off, encasing your both in darkness. Mattheo laid beside you, he usually took to his side, but tonight he was feeling a bit off so he wanted to be close to you. Not making physical contact but enough to where you notice his warm body. 

You kept your eyes open, your back turned away from him, what was he doing? He never slept so close to you. After a long period of silence you spoke up, feeling brave because it was dark. You wouldn’t see his expression and he wouldn’t see yours, “are you jealous, Mattheo?”

He sneered at the question, as if the idea of him being jealous was a crime, “of course not. I’m just concerned that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be.” There was a small hint of jealousy in his voice, he hated to admit it but he didn’t like the idea of you with another man.

“I might have not had a choice, but I don’t plan to step out of this marriage. You have nothing to worry about.” You tried to scoot closer to the edge of the bed, trying to build distance from him, “I wish I could say the same with you…and your assistant.”

His face looked offended, but you couldn't see it, you could hear it in his voice, trying to keep it cool. “My assistant? You’re the only one that is allowed in my office.”

“That’s not what Draco told me.” Mattheo was able to recruit Draco back into the business. Draco was nice to you, he was like a brother figure. Your families were close. They would have arranged a marriage with him instead, but his mother decided against it. She believed in falling in love, and making the choice Draco’s. “He warned me to never let you go on any work trips or work late over time. He doesn’t trust your assistant. Draco told me she wants to take any opportunity to have you alone, where no one can see you two.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as he listened to you. He didn’t appreciate that Draco was telling you things about him, in fact was pissed. He sat up in bed, turning on his bedside lamp. He looked at you with furious eyes, “Draco has no idea what he’s talking about. My work assistant wouldn’t do such things!” That was a lie and he knew it.

“I trust Draco. Don’t you speak ill of him. Why are you defending her?! YOU’RE the one who should be telling me that you wouldn’t do such things with her!” You couldn’t help your own jealousy come forth, you nearly fell off the bed.

He grabbed your arm to pull you back on the bed. Mattheo spoke with a calm and firm voice, “you have my word that I have never, nor will i ever, do such things with my assistant. No other woman can have me the way you do.” He admitted with a smirk, grabbing your chin and lifting it up so your gaze would be on him only.

You didn’t thank him for catching you, but you were glad he did. You lost your concentration for a split second at his admission. You regained yourself, “fire her then.”

He laughed at your demand, “fire my assistant?” A wicked thought passed through it. He could use this to his advantage to make you feel jealous, test the water on how you felt about him, “Why would I do that? She helps me.”

You crossed your arms, “you have three choices.” You count up with your fingers, “You either fire her. Let me choose an assistant for yourself. Or you hire me to be your new assistant.”

He raised his eyebrow at your offers, but still kept his cool, He didn’t want to show how turned on he was by how demanding you were being at the moment, “you’re giving me an ultimatum…” he smirked slightly, “and you think I’ll just do as you demand?”

“You better mattheo. If you don’t want to take it for purely my sake, do it for your bloodline.” I rolled my eyes. Fighting back the blush, thinking one day I will carry his child. 

He groaned at the mention of the family purity, “is that right?” he said in a frustrated tone, “you know as well as I do that this marriage is a duty to our families.” He sighed. “Very well, i’ll take you up on your offer, be my new assistant.”

Your eyes grew wide. You didn’t actually expect him to take that choice, far as you could tell he enjoyed being away from you even if it was at work. “I’ll call my work in the morning. See? Not so bad that I was training Charlie, he can take my place.” You tried to read his face before laying back down, this time closer to the center of the bed.

He turned off his lamp again, “let it be done. But remember, as my new assistant, I won't go easy on you.” He teased, there was a small smile on his face he couldn’t straighten out.

You reached out to pinch his ear, “don’t let it get to your head. I’m still your equal as your wife. Don’t forget about that.” You turned your back to him once again, closing your eyes.

His smile only got bigger at how fierce you were being, he must have struck a chord. He has never seen you so jealous. “Yes, yes… of course my love.” he mocked in a quiet voice as he inched closer to you, laying by your side. Not making much contact, but enough to tease you. You rolled your eyes, he only ever used pet names to tease you. You wanted them to mean something. You remembered the way he came out of the shower, you thought about his wide shoulders, his collar bones.. You scoot your ass closer to his hips. Two can play at that game.

Mattheo’s breath hitched, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m trying to sleep. Goodnight.”

He was so close to snapping at you, but he didn’t want to take the bait, “night.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next morning you woke up early to call and explain why you were leaving the ministry. You had to come up with a solid unsuspecting excuse. Mattheo’s family would not be too happy with it, being their spy and all, but if it meant my marriage could be successful, so be it. 

You were at the dining room table, it was empty. Everyone in the manor wouldn’t wake up for another half hour or so. Yet there was Mattheo in his black suit, “morning.” He found it amusing you were already ready for the day. He looked you up and down, a wave of lust surged through him. He thought you looked quite lovely, he almost said it outloud but resisted the urge.

“Good morning Mr. Riddle, sir.” You stood up, pulling his seat out. You rolled my eyes, but smiled sweetly at him, “I’m ready for my first day.”

He chuckled softly at how polite you were being, “are you now? And what are you looking forward to most today?”

One of the maids came by to set mattheo’s breakfast down. I smiled at her and waited until she left before continuing, “Sir, I'm looking forward to you firing your current assistant… in front of me.” You batted your lashes at him. Knowing you were going to meet her for the first and last time, you took extra care in how you looked.

“You really want to witness her losing her job, don't you?” He bit the corner of his mouth. 

“She should have watched the way she was acting with you, if she really cared about her job security.” Our blended family began to slowly trickle into the dining room, you laid a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder. you kissed his head. We made the appearance of a blissful marriage around them, not wanting a rift to occur between the families, “I'll meet you at the car in 15, darling.”

He tried his hardest to maintain his facade as you kissed him and left. He again watched you walk away, your perfect figure made his body tingle with desire once more. He excused himself from the table.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Mattheo turned the car off and unbuckled his seatbelt first to get out so he could open your door, “are you ready, my dear?” he questioned though he knew the answer. He didn’t think there would be any hesitation from you in regards to what was about to happen.

You nodded, straightening out your skirt. You followed him into the building. You felt uneasy to be around so many people who have caused harm and were plotting to do more. At least your family was safe, as long as you were with the Riddles.

Mattheo noticed and held your hand as he led you to his office, “Nothing is going to happen to you.” He offered you a chair in front of his desk before going around to sit at the main chair.

You couldn’t help but smile, you let it drop just as quick too. It’s all just part of the agreement. If something were to happen to you, poof~ there goes the bloodline. 

“Good morning, Mattheo.” A woman with a sickly sweet, sickly high pitched voice said with the entry.

He gave her a brief glimpse, he could already tell he would get a headache. His assistant was wearing a tight fitting top with a ridiculously short skirt, she was pouring him a cup of coffee.

You watched as his eyes followed her, gripping tightly at the chair’s arm. Draco was right, no one in their right mind would think of dressing that skimpy for work, if they were truly just there to get shit done. “It’s Mr. Riddle to you.” You said taking your left hand to your chin, making sure your wedding ring was up and front ready to gawk at.

Mattheo looked at you, he loved the way your demeanor was changing. He could see the jealous and possessive energy oozing off of you. He found it quite intriguing, a part of him wanted to test your limits. He reached out to accept the cup of coffee from his assistant, “is it just like how I like it?” “Yes Mr. Riddle. Just how you like it” she said, leaning over to him, finishing the stir. This made her skirt even tighter and her breasts were there to peep into.

You stared at Mattheo hard, expecting him to say something to the woman. He felt you, he had to admit he also was quite displeased at how his assistant behaved around him, but it was all fun and game.

“Now, what do I have scheduled for today?”

Before the woman could answer you interrupted. “I know one thing you have scheduled, Mattheo.” You tapped your foot. You needed her gone. Now. Draco - you’ll have to thank him at the next dinner party. You should have done something sooner. You can’t believe your husband was letting this slut work around him, dictating what he did by the hour.

Mattheo’s eyebrows slightly rose in surprise, he was a bit caught off guard at your interruption. He was so amused by how impatient you had become.

“Well we do have a meeting to go with the Boyles in an hour, can this wait?” His assistant said puffing her chest out to make it appear larger. You hated that she said we instead of you. That bitch. You got up from your seat, going around the desk to stand behind Mattheo. You snaked both arms over his shoulders and down his chest.

He held back a groan as your soft touch distracted his thoughts for a moment. He loved that you were making it clear he was yours. He snapped out of it when he remembered he was still in the presence of his assistant so he looked back at her, all the mock gone from his voice, “i’ll be quick… You’re fired. You're no longer needed here.”

The blood drained out of the woman’s face, her shoulder’s immediately fell. You gave her a fake condolences look.

“W-wuh why? What did I do? Is this because of the office party last week? It won’t happen again, it was wildly inappropriate.” She composed herself, taking a stab at you with the last portion. You brought your hands to Mattheo’s shoulders and squeezed hard slowly, as to not bring attention to the action.

His eyes darkened, “You knew the rules. My father specifically told you when you started not to try anything with me. But even after making it clear, you still chose to try and make a move on me at my own party.” His voice was deep, hiding the amusement that lay underneath.

Even though you hated the confession, you couldn't help but appreciate Mattheo’s honesty. You lessened the grip on his shoulders, rubbing out the part you dug in your nails as a way of saying thank you.

“I was so drunk Mr. Riddle. I’m terribly sorry. I really need this job. I thought you were needing something else…I thought you weren’t getting pleased right. Mattheo, I'm sorry don’t fire me.” You wanted to scream as she pleaded. You can hear the poison off the back of her tongue. Seriously, that Bitch! With that comment you returned to dig your nails into Mattheo.

“My needs are none of your concern.” Mattheo spat at her, but she was right. He has been craving a certain kind of touch for far too long now. He did enjoy a good begging, no matter who it came from, but he wasn’t going to go against his marriage. 

You felt him hold your left hand, flipping it so that both the back of your hands were facing the woman, he was showing your matching rings, “I am perfectly happy in my marriage.” You couldn’t help but wonder if he meant that, or if it was just for show. I was happy too wasn’t I?

The woman looked at your hands that were pressed together, despite her disappointment, she knew there was nothing she could do so she bit her tongue and nodded in response. You watched her every movement, as she collected herself. She still didn’t bother pulling down her skirt or buttoning up her shirt, it was as if she still wanted Mattheo to see what he would have missed out on. To leave this image with him as a parting gift.

He simply stared at the clock, “you have three minutes to collect your things before security arrives to escort you out of the building. Do not leave anything behind because it will be incinerated. My father will deal with your severance…if he gives you anything. Especially after I tell him why I had to fire you.”

She turned to the door, stole a glance back at Mattheo, and left the room. You stayed put behind Mattheo. You didn’t want him to see your face just yet. You needed to cool down. 

He groaned loudly and leaned back into your touch, rubbing a hand over his face, “I don’t even know why I kept her for so long. She wasn’t even that good at her job” he smirked, still wanting to test you.

“Don’t play stupid, I know I won't. Clearly there was something going on!” You scoffed, “to think you were getting so mad at Draco for warning me!”

He took your hand pulling you over to sit on his lap, “there was absolutely nothing going on. I didn’t ask her for anything outside of work related things. I would have never let her touch me, she thought I was unhappy in our marriage.”

“Why would she think you were unhappy hmm? Why was she assuming, let’s be honest, she assumed correctly that you weren’t getting needs met. How were you acting with her, tell me now.” You couldn’t help but feel like a little girl on his lap, a little girl who was throwing a tantrum for not wanting to share a beloved stuffed animal.

He rested his chin on your shoulder as he spoke into your ear, “it was probably because I was often short tempered with her, but I promise it was mostly due to her not doing her job correctly.” His lips brushed against your neck.

Yeah that kind of sounds like Mattheo, he liked things done a certain way, and he didn’t like when it veered off the track. But then again, even in school he was a massive flirt. So how much was the tension between the two due to his short temper and how much was his charm? 

“She’s not worth even a moment of your thought.” He mumbled against your ear, sending a shiver down to your core. He placed a gentle kiss right under your jaw. His hands ran down your thighs, squeezing ever so lightly.

You let out a faint moan, “Mattheo…” You couldn’t remember exactly the last time you were like this, it was very rare. While in school, you remembered how everyone wanted him. He allowed them to play games with him, he loved to toy with them too. But the girls knew, they ultimately knew they had no chance ending up with him. Our arranged marriage wasn’t a secret. 

He continued to press kisses over your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking gently on your skin, enjoying the way your body responded to his touch. He grabbed one leg and forced you to face him, your knees now on either side of his thighs, straddling him. He then wordlessly cast a spell on the door with his wand, so it wouldn’t be opened. He didn’t even look at the door, he didn’t need to carefully aim. You could feel your core getting embarrassingly wet at the simple gesture. “Mattheo, we shouldn’t..” you panted. 

“Maybe you’re right…” He responded, though he didn’t stop his ministrations. He captured your lips with his, kissing you hungrily as he pressed his body against yours. His hands exploring over your body. 

You let your hands go up the back of his neck, tugging at his dark curls. They were so soft and velvety. Fuck. He felt so good, you could feel him press against yourself. You forgot how big he was, you wanted to just dry hump him to feel satisfied with yourself right now. You couldn’t bring yourself to it, you tried to speak between his hasty sloppy kisses, “Matty…you do have a meeting soon.”

He loosened his grip ever so slightly, “then do your job. and cancel. it.” He said through gritted teeth, planting kisses on your collarbone. Without looking he pulled his phone closer to you. He hoped you would make the right choice.

You nodded shifting in his lap, earning a groan. What a start to my new job. “What’s the extension to Boyle’s assistant?” You grabbed the receiver trying to hold it and keep your breath steady. Mattheo whispered it against your ear lobe. You grew impatient once more as you continued to hear it ring on the other end. C’mon answer.

“Hello, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi um” you looked down at Mattheo’s sweet brown eyes that were following you, pleading with yours, you tried to get him to pause with his lip exploration for a second, “I’m Mr. Riddles’ new assistant - we..I..we..sorry he needs to” damn ..girl I NEED TO! Mattheo muffled his own giggle with his hand. Enjoying how you kept messing up, obviously your mind has started to get clouded.

“Y/N/N?” The woman on the other receiver said, your old nickname from school.

“Oh my god, Daphne? Hey! I didn’t recognize your voice…!”

He watched you with slight amusement.

Daphne started to ramble on about how she started at this job, on any other day you would have totally loved to entertain her and catch up. You got along very well, but you cut her off as she explained, “um Daphne, we should go out for some coffee soon, we can talk then. It’s just that Mattheo needs the meeting with the Boyles rescheduled.”

“Oh..okay..is everything alright? It was an important meeting…”

Not as important as this.

“Everything is fine, is there a different time we can meet? Push it back a couple more hours?” You looked over at his schedule that his previous slut of an assistant left. You both ended up agreeing on a later time, you quickly thanked her and said goodbye. You clicked the receiver down, putting the do not disturb on for good measure too. 

“Where were we?” you shyly said, looking at his eyes that were gleaming with desire and excitement.

“I was thinking we could restart from here..” He readjusted you back on his lap, slipping a hand under your skirt skimming along the line of your panty. 

You missed his touch, his hands could sometimes be so cold to the touch that they felt like they left a burning trail. He pulled back slightly, picking you up by your ass to set you down on the edge of his desk. He used his hands to open your legs wider, ever so gently “Is it okay if I touch you right here?” you were already nodding before he finished, “Use your words with me. Do you want me to touch you here?” He padded his thumb against your core, still over your panties. “Yes Mattheo, please please touch me.” 

“That’s my girl.” He smiled proudly, he could already feel the want and need pouring off of you, and it was driving him equally if not more insane. He pushed your skirt up higher, revealing yourself to him. Ran his hands over your hips massaging them as you had done the night before. They felt so soft and squishy. 

You couldn’t help but throw your head back, leaning on your forearms. You moved your head forward to look at him when he retracted his hands. He had sat back down in his chair, admiring how he had you. You felt like you were under a microscope, to be so exposed. You tried pressing your legs back together.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, “don’t hide. Let me see you.” he pushed your knees back apart to regain his view. He pulled your dominant hand forward, he also leaned forward so you could touch the side of his face, “show me how you please yourself.” He watched with a hungry expression, clearly enjoying how you blushed and got flustered. Mattheo gently rubbed his thumb along your burning cheek softly, then traced it against your bottom lip asking for entry, “there’s no need to be shy with me, my love.” His voice was sweet and soft, “I promise I wont judge you, you are my wife after all.”

You let his thumb go into your mouth. You sucked on it, not once breaking eye contact, “shit y/n, that’s my pretty princess.” with his free hand he slid underneath his own pants and readjusted himself into a comfortable position. He took your dominant hand once more, putting it over your core. “Show me.”

You hesitated again to make a move on yourself, Mattheo pulled his thumb out of your mouth so he could wrap his hand around your neck, “don’t make me say it again.”

Oh my shit. “Sorry” you managed to choke out through his alternating grip intensity. You went over your panties to play yourself. You were so wet. Your hand was shaking with nerves as you rubbed over your entrance, letting your slick arousal coat them before moving them between your folds and finally at your clit. Mattheo was looking down at your movements. The hand that wasn’t around your neck, he helped by holding your panties out of the way, “so pretty, you’re glistening.”

“You..you have this effect on me Matty. This is all for you.”

“Good, you’re mine.” He choked you hard then lessened it once more, “and i'm yours.” He kissed you again before watching you play with yourself. You kept rubbing your clit for him. He let go of your neck, you felt your blood rush back to your brain. Mattheo unbuttoned your top, unclasped your bra and started to play with your breasts. Alternating and teasing each nipple. “So perfect.” He grinned against your nipples, biting it and blowing cool air on it. You yelped and he covered your mouth, “shhh.” He unlatched himself from you and sat down. He rubbed himself through his pants before undoing his belt. His eyes never left your wet core, it was purring for him.

He let out a small sign, laughing. You felt insecure for a split second, “what?”

“Nothing..you’re just doing..it wrong”

“Huh?”

“Here let me help you, princess. I’ll show you how I'd do it.” he moved his chair closer, moving your hand away. He just rubbed the middle and ring finger along your heat, it grant him a moan, “y/n, as much as I love hearing you like this. You’ve gotta stay quiet.”

You bit your lip hard, “I’ll try Mattheo but..”

“None of that, you must do as I say.” he gently inserted one finger inside you, curling it up against your wall. You moaned louder. He whipped his single digit out, “you’re so needy, even with a single finger? Sweet Salazar, what am I going to do with you? You’re hopeless.” He let out a haughty laugh.

“Baby..please.” You watched him stand up, taking his belt off the loops of his pants. You thought he was finally doing to give you what you wanted most, but instead he just wrapped it around your head, tightening it around your mouth, closing it.

“I’m really sorry I have to do this baby girl, but you just wont keep your mouth shut.” He wasn’t a bit sorry, you can tell by how he looked down at the sight of you. He was actually quite pleased. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, it was a sharp contrast to the leather belt wrapped around your mouth. Seeing you like this was beyond his wildest dreams, gagged before him. Mattheo sat back down continuing where he left off, but this time he inserted two of his fingers. He didn’t allow you to adjust to them. The belt indeed muted your cry. It hurt, you didn’t dare use two of your own fingers on yourself, and here he was with hands that were twice the size of yours.

“You’re doing so well for me, princess.” He whispered, inserting his fingers all the way and pulling them out the same. You felt a tear running down your cheek. He began to rhythmically curve them when they were inside you. The pain was quickly subdued with pleasure. You laid back on the desk arching yourself so he could go in deeper, “so now you want more huh?”

Still fingering you, he went back to suck on your nipples. He towered over you, you shook your head, “what is it?” He looked at your concern. You looked at his fully clothed body, wrapping your hand around his tie. You were naked, apart from your skirt, but it was so bunched up at your hips it didn’t matter. You couldn’t  be the only one bare right now, you want to see his body, “how are you still bossy with your mouth shut?” He laughed, pushing your hand away, “news flash, I’m your boss now. You don’t tell me what to do.”

Despite his words, he did take off his tie first, wrapping it around your wrists, goddammit, before taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt only half way. You could look at his chest that was peaking. You felt yourself drool against the belt.

He sat back down and continued to finger you relentlessly. He pulled out and tasted his fingers, “too bad you’re gagged. I would have liked you to taste yourself. At least I have your cunt to myself.” he welcomed himself into you again. He slowly ran his warm tongue up your slit, stopping at your clit. He did this a couple of times. It was so agonizing. Your eyes were bobbing around unable to stay open. With your hands tied you were still able to hold his head down to stop and focus on your clit.

Mattheo would have swatted your hands away, but he needed your touch as well. He wanted to make you feel amazing, he wanted you to forget your name and only respond to “wife”. But god did he also just want to already bury his cock deep inside you to feel some relief. He needed to be patient.

Your breath began to get shallow and unsteady. He groaned against your clit, your pussy was repeatedly clenching around his fingers, indicating you were close. 

His lips curled devilishly, he was thinking about denying your orgasm. He only wanted you to cum on his cock and nothing else. The only reason why he didn’t is because he loved the taste of you too much to stop, “you can do it, doll. Come for me let me taste it.”

You began to shake and grab a fist full of curls as you came. He gradually slowed down, helping you ride out your orgasm. You felt so relaxed.

He looked so full of himself. He pulled his face away from you, his lips were red and swollen from his own work. Mattheo held up his right hand, the one that was fingering you, you could see the wetness on it. 

With his clean hand he pulled down his pants and underwear in one quick motion. Rubbing his cock with his right hand, letting your cum wet it. He used two fingers to beacon you over, before he realized you couldn’t move.  He left your wrists still tied, and pulled you forward onto your feet. “Look me in the eye, princess. Do you promise to be quiet now?” 

You could only nod. That was enough for him, because he had other plans to occupy your mouth. He removed the belt around your mouth. With your still bonded hands you wiped the spit around your mouth, “God, damn.”

He laughed, “I don't remember being called God before, but you can't continue with its use.” 

Before you could reply with something snarky, he pushed you down onto your knees and had the tip of his cock at your lips, “Sorry, I can’t actually trust you to be quiet, so open wide and take it.”

You obeyed. Though you could only take nearly half of it before it started your gag reflex, “i love that sound baby,” he signed, “is it too big for you?” He didn’t really care for an answer, of course it was. It would have just inflated his ego more. 

“C’mon and let me in more.” slobber just kept going down your chin and onto your breasts. He bucked his hips at the sight, “you’re so fucking pretty.” Mattheo gathered your hair into two bunches, using them as handlebars. He was straight throat fucking you at this point. You began to feel faint, and he saw it too, so he pulled his cock all the way out allowing you to breathe. “You’re doing so good.” He kissed you on the lips, using his shirt to help clean your chin.

You were just about to say thank you when he reinserted his cock into your mouth. You pull your head back and he actually allows you. With your bound hands you stroke the portion of his cock that you couldn’t take in, pumping it. Admiring the veins running down it . You wrap your lips around his lip, swirling your tongue around. His precum was like a classified drug to you, it was so delicious. You kept at your pace wanting more to come out, “you’re obsessed” Mattheo pointed out thrilled.

“Talk to me, love” He touched your ear lobe. 

You spoke to him with his cock still in your mouth, so it slurred your speech, “yob ase s’ gob.” 

He chuckled but groaned with the vibrations your voice made, “what was that?”

You stopped sucking, “you taste so good!” you smile at him. This brought him to his knees, literally he kneeled beside you, he removed the tie around your wrists rubbing them for you. Both your eyes are on the same level now.

“You really are beautiful.” He said causing you to blush. “Don’t turn all shy on me now, princess.” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear in a soft gesture. “We’re far from being shy with each other right now.” Mattheo kissed you.

“I just like hearing you say that, my king.”

With a voice filled with affectionate warmth, “when you call me that it makes me want to keep you by my side forever, my precious princess.” He began to kiss you harder, “I want to keep you forever.” He pushed his soft side out of the way and pushed you onto your knees in front of him You arched your back so your ass was in the air, “this is what you fucking teased me with last night.”

You laughed, “yeah I know.”

“So you wanted this bad huh?”

“Yess Matty I want you.” 

He admired the scene in front of him. He kneaded your ass, biting it and making your cry again. “Don’t make me use the belt again.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet now.” You cupped your own mouth. You saw his jacket on the floor and took it under your head.

“You’re so obedient, it's very good. How haven’t I bred you sooner? I want you pregnant with the next Riddle heir.” He ran a hand slowly over your back, gently but possessively.

“I have actually been thinking the same thing. My body is ready for your seed, im..im ready for it.”

When you agreed with his wish it only made something in him pop, something shifted in Mattheo’s eyes. The hunger and desire growing. 

He spat out at your spread exposed pussy, as if it wasn’t already sopping wet. He just liked the idea of having his bodily fluids in you. He rubbed his full length on the outside of your slit, teasing you, “you think your tiny pussy can take my cock better than your mouth?”

Shit…actually that was an honest question. The few times you tried already, you were only able to take in 3/4th of his length before tearing and asking him to stop. Plus you both haven’t fucked in a long while, “Matty, I’ll try by best…” you sounded a little uneased. 

He pulls on your arm turning you to look behind at him, “We don't have to rush this. But I promise i’ll make it good for you if you let me. You’re my wife and you will be the mother of my children soon enough.” He let go of you, bending over to kiss your shoulder blades, biting them roughly before going to your ear, “I’ll try to take it slow, but I really need you to take all of me in, darling. I need my seed to make it directly into your womb. I don’t want it to possibly drip out. You can do it.”

You moaned at his words of encouragement, you will try your best. He continued to stroke your hair, “listen to me: you’re my everything. And I won't let you get hurt, okay?” He kissed your temple, “if it is too unbearable, just tell me and I'll stop. Nothing is more important to me than your comfort and trust…but I do want you to give me a baby. A couple of them.” He laughed like his usual self, “so please try hard to take me like a good girl.” 

You pulled at his hair harshly, “just fuck me Riddle.” with that he slapped your ass leaving a red welt in the shape of his hand and squeezing it to lengthen the pain, “atta girl”. He finger fucked you a little bit more before realigning the tip of his dick to your hole. 

You closed your eyes, and he began to press into you. It wasn't so bad, actually it already felt amaz - -- okay nevermind. He felt you squeeze around him, and he stopped to reassess the situation, “please princess, let me in.”

“Matty I don’t…I dont think I can” you gripped onto his jacket for dear life.

“You can and you will.” He reached over to rub your clit, it helped relax you and he kept sinking deeper and deeper in you. You bit the jacket. It was a crazy mix of pain and pleasure.

“There we go.” he was satisfied, he was finally balls deep inside you, “see I knew you could do it.” He stayed still trying to let your pussy try to adjust around him, “you’re so fucking tight. Actually, I was having second thoughts, but here we are.” He said proudly kissing your neck from behind.

“You’re so fucking huge Mattheo, you’re too good to me.” 

“I adore you” he whispered, “there’s no one else like you. You’re…you’re the love of my life. Both our parents saw that before we did. They knew we were meant for each other when they arranged our marriage.” He groaned as you squeezed him purposefully this time.

“I love you Mattheo. I do.” You manage, your words felt true to each other. With a tender grip he starts  to move his hips slowly away from you only to slam back in. Watching your face for any sign you wanted him to stop but all he got was a smile and, “I’ll give you as many children as you want.”

Without proper warning he quickened his pace holding you face down to the floor. You closed your eyes tightly, locking your jaw. You inhaled his smell through his jacket. Pain was being replaced with a pleasurable numbness. Your brain was going utterly stupid, “make me pregnant Mattheo. Let me make you into a proper daddy.” 

He chuckled at that, “fucking take my dick then. I’ll make you the most beautiful mommy there is. You're such a good wife and I know you’ll be the best mother to my children.”

Mattheo pressed his hand just under your belly button, he took one of your hands and pressed it there with you, “can you feel my cock, darling? You can feel it through your tummy.”

“Yes I can. I feel so full.” You moan.

His grunt and thrusts began to get sloppy, his balls slapping against your clit. It made you roll your eyes behind your head, “princess, I think…” 

“Me too, let's cum together. Let's mix ourselves more.” You raised your ass higher, tilting it ignoring the back pain you were getting.

“I’m going to fill you up even more,” he whimpered, his voice faltering as if he was about to cry, “don't let anything drip out. Take it all in okay?” You nodded, holding your head up and twisting it so uncomfortably around to the side so you can watch him release himself into you. What a sight for sore eyes. 

His curls were plastered onto his forehead with sweat, his cheeks were flushed. Mattheo’s eyes looked back at your eyes with a longing you haven't seen before, “I love you Y/N. thank you thank you thank you.” He began to repeat, as he shot a large load into you. He was right, you could feel your tummy grow already. You followed shortly after, squeezing and milking his cock out more.

His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he came down from his climax. His body was trembling, but he held you tightly. His face buried in the crook of your neck, “that was incredible.” He looked at you with adoration and contentment, “you’ve given me everything i’ve ever wanted. Thank you.”

“Thank you for choosing me after all.”

Mattheo was about to pull out, but you didn’t allow him. You pulled at his shirt, making him spoon you on the floor. You wanted to warm his cock, but also use it to continue plugging in his cum inside of you, to be marinated. You told him this too, and he flushed, “hey you said we wouldn’t be getting shy with each other, it’s too late for that.” He laughed making his dick still twitch inside you, you let out a moan. He grinned mischievously. You gave him an uncertain look.

Mattheo looked at the clock “yeah we should probably just move the meeting to a different day.”

“Do I really have to call it in again?”

“Yes yes you do, you’re my new assistant remember?” 

“Yeah and soon to be the mother of your children too.”

He wrapped his arms around you in a loving embrace. “I promise to take care of you and our little ones,” he said with sincerity, “You’ll be the most beautiful, loving mother, and I'll support you every step of the way.”

He tugged on the phone’s cord, pulling it so that it drops on the floor beside the two of you, “go on call again. Move it for next week.” He starts kissing your jaw again, moving his hips and slithering his hand back to your clit, “I hope you didn’t think we were finished, I think I can give you more of my cum to hold.”

“Mattheo…” 

[cherryredstars]

For the 1k prompt thing...may i request some pervert Miguel plss (like hes obsessed with groping the readers tits in public type of thing) thank you in advance 😘🫶

1K Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x afab!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Groping, Public Sexual Touching, Getting Caught

Summary: He could keep his hands to himself, but why would he want to?

Word Count: 638 (Not Edited)

He knows no shame. 

He’s impatient, insatiable at the worst of times. He can’t help it, not when you always look so…touchable. Soft, glowing skin. Clothes that fall around your body so perfectly. Tits and nipples that just beg for attention. A perfect pussy that he can play with for hours. He sees no shame in it, you’re his after all. It’s completely justifiable if he decides the whole world needs to see that too. 

He comes up behind you as you look through a rack of clothes with practiced quietness, a large hand coming up to your front. A gasp escapes you as his hand covers your covered boob entirely. His hand is firm as he kneads and squishes it in his palm, groaning at how soft they feel. It doesn’ help when he slips that same hand under your shirt, his fingers ghosting over your stomach as his hand travels under your bra to pinch at your nipple. You throw your hand over your mouth, muffling your own moan at the sharp sensation. Your other hand comes up to grip his hand, eyes darting worriedly to see if someone is approaching. The rack is tall enough that it covers what Miguel is doing, but the camera you can see from the corner of your eye has a perfect view of what’s happening. 

“Miguel!” You hiss, trying to pull his hand away desperately before someone comes to kick the both of you out. 

Miguel only grunts, tightening his hold around your soft breast and flicking your hardened nipple. Your traitor of a body melts into his touch, leaning your back into his front. You can feel his hard on through his jeans, poking at your ass. You try to tease him back, moving your hips slightly to grind into it. His head falls into the junction of your neck and shoulder as he groans. Your plan completely backfires.

He takes your grinding as a sign to go further, his other hand coming between your legs to cup your clothed cunt. A sharp gasp leaves you as he digs the heel of his palm into your cunt. It causes a hiss from you as the scratchy material of your pants and panties press into your pussy. You can feel yourself dampening your underwear, and you shakily grab at his wrist. 

“Miguel, st-”

“Um… Excuse me?”

Both you and Miguel freeze. Your eyes widen as you see a very uncomfortable store clerk stand a few feet away. You instantly pull yourself away from Miguel, cheeks a wild mess of blush. Miguel looks more irritated at the fact he’s been interrupted than concerned that the two of you have been caught. He has a dark scowl on his face, brows furrowed as he broods beside you. You nervously clear your throat, giving the clerk a flimsy smile as you straighten your clothes of any wrinkles that might have appeared. 

“Hi!” Your voice sounds overly squeaky and enthusiastic, and you resist the urge to cringe at yourself. Miguel simply huffs.

The clerk hesitantly smiles, face twitching with discomfort, “Uh, hello. I’m sorry but I have to ask you to leave. We don’t tolerate..uh, inappropriate displays of…affection… in our stores. It’s just.. you know, families shop here so…yeahh.” 

Your cheeks are on fire, hurting from how wide you smile as you nod along to what the clerk says. You try to keep it casual, apologizing and grabbing Miguel harshly as you turn to go. Your nails dig into his arm as the clerk follows behind the two of you to ensure you actually leave. 

“Oh you are so going to be fucking your hand for the next month,” you hiss under your breath as you exit. 

Let’s just say, Miguel is definitely upset that the two of you have been caught now.

[satosugusandwich]

His Angel and His Brat

Part 2

Part 1 here! Part 3!!

Hard!Dom!Geto x brat!Gojo x Sub!Afab!reader

(I write my fics to be racially ambiguous! If anyone catches anything please inbox me!!!!)

Summary: Gojo is a mega-brat to y/n and Suguru and likes to push buttons cuz he can so Suguru decides to overstimulate Gojo until he thinks he’s broken. (Key word: thinks.) To add to Gojo’s humiliation, he ensures that the reader is getting princess treatment while watching Gojo suffer endlessly. But, of course, things don’t always go as planned with Satoru Gojo. Or for y/n. Geto and Gojo have… motives.

CW and whatnots: Overstimulation, facesitting, vibrators, dildoes, condescending!geto, usage of the word “cock”, gojo’s boundless stamina and cocky attitude, praise, cocksucking, angel ass reader that ends up in trouble cuz gojo can’t shut his mouth, geto is actually so mean to gojo but so soft cuz he’s actually a teddy bear dw. Use of “brat, princess, angel, cockslut, and slut.” There will be aftercare in future parts cuz imagine leaving pathetic satoru a cum drenched mess. Poor baby. :(((

More tags will be added. Part 3 will be the last part.

Satoru did not waste any time eating like a starving man. His eyes were peeled as he watched how Suguru stood up on the bed, pulling your chin to face his pretty cock. Already, Satoru was thinking of how when he cums, if you don’t catch it in your mouth, it’ll definitely fall onto your pretty tits and stomach and of course onto his own face. Suguru paid no mind to the man underneath your cunt, instead, admiring how excitedly you took his cock into your mouth.

Suguru was thinking in this moment how he truly hit the damn jackpot. A pretty obedient thing that he can be nice and soft with, gently caressing and guiding as you sucked him in versus his needy and impatient brat that he can get as rough as he wants with. Suguru has to admit, it’s not in his nature to be so mean, he’s such a kind empathetic man, but perhaps the curses in his body take over when it comes to Satoru. Right now he can’t help but think of all the ways he could press Satoru.

He could edge him instead and leave him unsatisfied until his brain goes numb. Or maybe just leave him there, not giving him the orgasm he so desperately craves.

Overstimulating him has been fun, Satoru being so greedy has really made his punishment so enjoyable. His sensitivity is addictive, perhaps he could use that against him. Shame that Satoru has such a high pain tolerance, he’s limited to overwhelming him with pleasure.

Or a different type of pain. Would his ego be bruised too much if he worked to humiliate Satoru further? How would he respond to degradation? Knowing Satoru, if you call him a slut, he’d only work to embrace the newfound identity.

Difficult brat indeed. Perhaps the best way to punish him would be to ignore him… yes, that’s what Suguru would do. He’d use the other male’s greedy and needy nature against him.

“That’s right pretty girl.” Suguru mused, resting his hands on your head. “Finally seems as though my cock can fill your pretty throat completely. You’ve done well to learn how to take me right.” His praise is warm and flowing down to your core. “Want me to move your head or do you want to do it?” He coos.

You shake your head and move on your own, bobbing back and forth on his pretty cock. His mouth parts as you suck him so well, knowing Suguru’s favorite rhythm by heart. Meanwhile, beneath you, Satoru is slurping along, wanting to find out how he can distract you from focusing on pleasing Suguru.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Satoru had an idea from the moment he saw how you watched him receive his punishment… you seemed rather invested, much more than usual.

So, wanting to peeve Suguru to enact his plan, he whined. Very loudly.

“Clearly you need to suffocate him, y/n.” Suguru huffed.

You hesitated in putting more weight on him, but at the same time, what would be worse? Denying Satoru of being able to breathe or potentially invoking a punishment from Suguru? You decided the latter. Satoru couldn’t really be upset, it just gave him a bigger challenge!

You ground your cunt further onto Satoru, making sure his nose wasn’t entirely covered, but that his mouth couldn’t make a peep.

Suguru closed his eyes for a brief moment and now… Satoru just pinched his calf.

“Satoru!” Suguru pulled his cock from your mouth only to shove it back in, the suddenness making you gag. Suguru’s eyes snapped down to see the man beneath you shaking with laughter while the sound remained muffled into your cunt. The vibrations from Satoru’s chuckle made you tremble.

Satoru and Suguru’s eyes remained locked as Satoru made a pinching motion with his fingers. Suguru stepped on Satoru’s wrist, making you pull your mouth off his cock as he changed positions. Satoru only laughed more and used his other hand to slap your ass once, your body jumping from the unexpected impact.

“Ow!” You exclaimed, now hovering above Satoru’s mouth, giving him the ability to speak clearly.

“Thought I’d punish her since you didn’t after I whined!” Cheeky bastard. And poor you. Why’d you get stuck with these two men?

“We really need to stuff your mouth shut, don’t we Satoru? Need you bound entirely too. Never thought you’d put our princess in this position.”

It’s Suguru’s fault too!!!!! He should’ve just let it go in the first place!!!!!!!

“Our princess never gets punished, she’s too sweet, don’t you think that’s unfair? She gets away with everything! Don’t you remember last time you said you’d punish her if she came without permission? Well, she came and you didn’t even do nothing!” Satoru yapped on and on. “All she has to do is make a cute face and say sorry baby, wah wah!” He mocked you, looking at your face. “Suguru, you punish me all you like but you don’t punish the one who really needs it…” Satoru’s voice lowered.

Suguru briefly looked to you, eyes watching your reaction. “What’s he talking about, y/n?”

“He’s lying, of course!” You huffed. “I don’t disobey you when we fuck. Don’t try to get our positions switched, Satoru!” You were tempted to sit back down on his mouth but at the same time… you wondered what’s gonna happen.

“As much as I want to believe you,” Suguru dropped to his knees on the bed, releasing Satoru’s wrist and getting eye level with you, “me and you and you especially know just how much Satoru loves to be punished. Why go through this effort to try and avoid his favorite thing?” Suguru now held your chin, running his thumb back and forth. “Continue, Satoru.” He didn’t even look at Satoru whatsoever, wanting to see every tiny reaction from you as your other partner spoke.

“A pretty angel like her can’t help but avoid disobeying, that’s obvious, but have you ever considered that she wants a taste of your punishments?” Satoru raised his hand up to toy with your clit, rubbing it in slow, soft circles. “You should feel how wet she is from watching me cum over and over under your iron-clad heel, our angel here likes to pretend she’s all about being a good girl, but she’s desperate to act out and piss you off.” Satoru’s mouth continued to run and your eyes stayed fixed on Suguru, too afraid to look away. “You really should’ve felt her pussy while you had my tight little ass stuffed, it’s a miracle she didn’t cum from watching!”

A smile ghosted across Suguru’s face. “Are you sure she’s not a bit of a sadist too and just enjoys seeing you suffer?” His hand was traveling down your figure, going to feel your wetness as it hovers above Satoru’s face. “What do you think, angel? Do you want to get punished? Just for fun?”

When Suguru’s question processed through your head, you felt his fingers dip inside your cunt, finally you after clenching around nothing for so long.

Satoru sped up the circles around your clit. “Come on, speak, angel. Or is this your way of guaranteeing a punishment?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his comment, feeling your cheeks flush.

Suguru’s eyes opened wider and he cocked his head. “You like that idea, huh?”

“She does!”

Sometimes you forget these two are notorious for their attitudes when they’re together. You’re too used to seeing the softer side of them.

“Come on princess,” Suguru urged you.

“Tell him, baby.” Satoru followed.

“I—“ you were really embarrassed, the most certainly are cornering you. “You two are mean.”

“If we’re so mean, why are you smiling, you like it don’t you?” Satoru pushes every button he can find when it’s presented to him.

“I don’t think that was the question, sweetheart.” Suguru’s fingers pulled out of your dripping pussy and he raised them to his lips. “Do you want me to punish you? Give you a taste of what Satoru has to deal with?” He sucked your wetness off his fingers, delighting in how you shyly averted your eyes away at the sight.

“If you go easy on me.” You answered.

“Safeword?”

“Uh, sunglasses for chill out for a sec, bangs for completely stop.”

“That’s our girl.” Satoru chuckles. “So Suguru…what do you have in mind for our princess?” He blows cool air onto your clit to make you jump.

Suguru lifts you off of Satoru quickly and lays you on your back. “If she was so aroused by watching you cum until you collapsed onto me then why not do the same?”

Your eyes widen at the proposition, thinking if you can take as much as Satoru did. You’ve been overstimulated before but have ever been at it for more than a few minutes? Satoru did 30+… could you even handle 10 after the first orgasm? How many times did he cum? Like 5? Could your body take that? Well actually, he’d definitely make you do more, people with dicks have a much more sensitive refractory period… what if they double it and take you to 10?

Suguru licked his lips, growing harder at the fear in your eyes. “Oh don’t worry baby, I’m gonna make it easier on you, I won’t have you crouch like I did Satoru, can’t have your knees feeling sore and numb.” Shit, you’d rather go numb and sore than take whatever Suguru has in mind.

“How are you gonna do it?” Swallowing a lump in your throat, you realize you haven’t been this nervous since you first fucked them. You even want to cover your chest and squeeze your legs together the way they’re both looking at you.

Gojo looks absolutely enthralled in your torture, eagerly awaiting the start. “I think we should focus on your clit and if we’re feeling merciful—“

“Hush Satoru. Your mouth still needs to be stuffed shut. Our angel wants my punishment. Not yours.” Suguru glares at him while raising your wrists to be above your head. Turning his attention back to you, he briefly licks at your clit to get a taste of you and taking in the remnants of Satoru’s spit into his mouth. “Despite Satoru’s unwavering blabbering,” he raises his eyes from your weeping cunt to your face, “I think we should focus on your pretty clit. I would love to watch your cunt beg to have something inside it, so I think we’ll wait to stuff you later.”

You nod. “Yes sir.”

His attention shifts back to a pouting Satoru. “Aw, jealous again?”

“No.”

“If I recall, earlier you said something about wanting to have your cock in her mouth, right?” Suguru slapped your cunt, a cry escaping you accompanied by a sadistic chuckle. “Well, personally, since she can’t stuff your mouth any more to keep you quiet, how about I stuff that throat of yours instead?”

If Satoru was a cat, it’d be like his ears just perked up. He gives a cheeky smile and leans up. “As long as my mouth is occupied, then I’d be forever grateful.”

Suguru smiles. “There’s my good boy, I knew he was in there somewhere.”

You and Satoru sit together, awaiting your dom’s next moves, both eager and one of you a little scared. Suguru crouches down by the bed and you hear rummaging from your toy box, then when he pops back up, your heart rate is already increasing. He holds a hitachi in one hand and a sizable dildo in the other.

Satoru looks extra excited. “You’re really gonna bring out the dildo too? Thought you weren’t gonna stuff her up? Is it to tempt her with what she wants?”

Suguru’s grin remains intact as he settles back down on his knees in between your legs. He cocks two fingers at Satoru to call him over and the other male begins to crawl across the bed. When he leans down to try and take Suguru’s cock in his mouth, he yanked by the hair and left with his mouth open.

“Eager per usual. But when did I say that I was gonna use my cock to stuff your mouth? No, you cockslut, this dildo is your gag for the time being.” His word are biting and harsh. “I wanna focus on our angel for now. If you can suck that cock for the duration of her punishment then maybe I’ll let you lick my cum off her pretty pussy? After all she cleaned up for you didn’t she?”

Fuck, he’s so fucking cruel.

Satoru is hard again anyways.

Now, for you, Suguru flips the toy on and presses it to your swollen, aching clit, having been passed from mouth to mouth, it’s like you’ve been toyed with for hours. Suguru knows this and he knows Satoru just as well. He anticipated Satoru wanting to see you get put in your place just as much as he anticipated you asking for it.

Now it comes down to what he said earlier. Treat the angel, ignore the brat.

He smiles sweetly, the sound of Satoru lapping at the plastic cock unimportant as your legs shake.“Remember princess, you asked for this.”

[rizsu]

“later,” he said—no, he promised. later he promised to apologize. later he promised it'll be alright. later gojo promised to talk it out yet again meaningless promises are meant to be broken. like a jigsaw puzzle piece to its board, they fit in well. no one cares about promises that were spat out to ease the fuel, is what he thinks. at the end of the day, if it's not important it'll end up passing like a leaf floating through the wind. to bother and not be bothered: the rules by which gojo carries on his life.

he bothers with the quests that are deemed important and alarming to him. if such fails to pass this, they will be discarded—much like the “argument” that took place last night. he doesn't recall anything that happened. other than meeting heads with the couch, there really isn't any details from the prior night that sticks out to him.

much to his disappointment, there's the prickling feeling that he did something wrong and has yet to make ends meet for it. did i fuck up somewhere? he wonders. a pout and furrowed eyebrows welcome themselves as he takes his precious time trying to figure out what or who he wronged.

he's yet to find the answer. not bothering with it any longer, he pops two painkillers dry and makes his way to your shared bedroom, unaware of you who's been in a horrible mood ever since. scratching the back of his head, he walks around confused. in his front view is you, who looks stressed even though you're asleep. the dried trails of tears deepen his confusion. just how hungover was i? he questions, oblivious to the blunt fact that it's him who caused it all.

“hey,” gojo whispers, softly shaking your body to jerk you awake. it doesn't work, so he continues until you're conscious. as soon as he sees movement from you, he stops, placing his hand stationary on your hip. watching you twist and turn, he's caught by surprise when you flick his hand away. are you mad? upset? sick? he has no knowledge of what or why you're like this.

“baby? did i do something? what's wrong?” throwing questions at you, his face contorts into confusion and worry. what's going on with you? why won't you communicate? he has many questions that only fuel your anger. does he really not remember? was it truly just like a fly buzzing around his food? is he really that self-centered? no—you know he's not but was your so called “argument” that useless to him? unbelievable.

you try your best to ignore him, really, but his bothersome behavior will either make him see his deity or see the life of being single once again. your tolerance level lowers each time you hear his voice. at this moment, you truly dislike this man. whoever wants to call you sensitive can kiss your ass. you rightfully have every right to seethe with dislike towards gojo.

“can you STOP?!” emerging from under the covers, you look at gojo. oh, how sweet he looks. so sweet yet so rotten.

taken back, gojo raises his hands in defense. if you don't at least hint to him what happened, he's going to go insane.

“what demon possessed you today?” “fuck you.”

you give no more than two words and a middle finger to him. you're too salty at the truth—the truth of him not remembering anything. not even what happened moments before he fell asleep. you're kind of sad, honestly. you love him a lot and it does hurt.

“do you not recall..?” it's your turn to question him. with the softest voice possible, you look at him, eyes wavering to observe his reaction. you hope he at least lies. the truth hurts and you're definitely not in the mood to accept it.

“... recall what?”

oh, alright. you knew he was drunk, but not that drunk. can't blame him but that's exactly what you're going to do. he just cannot act so innocently. he can't. who does that?! not anyone with a sense shame, that's for sure—but who is gojo satoru to feel such tiny things?

sighing, you turn your back to him, making sure to cover your entire body with the duvet. the longer you acknowledge him, the faster your violent tendecies will take over. although you're disturbed, you still have to speak to him, it's a habit, unfortunately, “do not bother me, gojo.”

offended and shocked being his two most dominant emotions today, he raises an eyebrow, ready to drop another question as if it's a pop-up quiz, “what do you mean by that?”

—

minutes and hours pass by and gojo's still hosting that offended expression. really, it's the only emotion he's been feeling ever since he graced the house with his presence. today might just be the day he buries himself in search for eternal rest. when it comes to others' problems, he will be there as if he's a superhero, but his? oh, his new name might just be master deflector three thousand. gojo has a complex—it's not a god complex, rather, it's a how-do-i-face-my-emotional-demons complex. he masks everything with a joke and confidence but never permit that to steer you away from who he truly is. not a god, just gojo satoru.

gojo's alone now, sinking into his thoughts as he remembers how you left earlier. another argument occurred and just like last night, he mirrored his actions—though completely unknown to him, you clearly remember it all. the same nonchalant way he waved you off, the way he oozed of attitude as he rolled his eyes, the same way his voice dominated when he finally reaches his limit.

sipping on his glass, he pokes his inner cheek with his tongue, salty at the scene replaying in his mind. unable to contain your violent tendecies, your eyes took over as tears overflowed from the rims. you didn't shout, didn't hit, didn't throw anything—just took a deep breathe in and walked away with a sour smile.

gojo's eyes trailed your figure, watching your figure disappear without care. like always, he believes it'll be alright. he's sure that all you need is space and you'll come back. gojo believes in a simple apology being the bandaid to the injury, which is why his eyes bulged when you came into view with a bag or two.

gojo's body immediately dashed to yours from his position almost leaving a cartoonish dust trail behind him. his hand grips against yours, pulling your body closer to his. clenching his jaw, he questions—no, demands, “where are you going?”

a stuttering breath escapes from you, too exhausted to have anything else to say, you give him an acceptable answer, “away from you, obviously.”

his grip tightens, the same feeling from the moment he woke up swirls arounds. his stomach feels like a bottomless pit, the sick feeling just never ends. annoyed at your constant deflecting, the tone of his voice changes but he never raises the volume.

“fucking stop it and tell me.”

no response. he doesn't get the response he wants, but he does receive you wriggling your arm out from his grip. holding your arm to your chest, it stings as his fingerprints disappear within a blink. gojo hates it. he hates the look of disgust in your eyes. he despises what's happening. he despises that something happened before all this and he can't, for the love of him, remember anything.

uncomfortable silence dominates. you're avoiding every attempt of eye contact and gojo's eyes scan your features. she's uncomfortable, he thinks. his heart may as well shatter into separated atoms. his eyes dull in color, slowly backing away from you as he turns his back to you again. dumping his body on the couch, he rests his head on his palm, waving you off with simple words, “go if you want, leave as you wish. i'm done.”

oh okay, a bitter taste envelops your cells, he's done. loosely holding your bags, you drag your feet to the door, looking back at him for one more, one more chance to confirm if you should leave or not. his slumped figure gives you all the confirmation you need. with that, you leave. taking two steps out, you speak with a low voice, praying that he'll hear it.

“bye-bye, satoru.”

gojo raises two fingers, showing you that he heard you well. waiting for the door to click, he leans his head back on the couch, finally allowing himself to succumb to his feelings. every negative emotion and its synonym engulfs him, feeding off of his body and draining him clean of any optimism. is it over? he doesn't know. he hopes it's not. never did he ever want to let you slip through that door but what could he have done? it was more than evident that you were uncomfortable with him. he just can't be selfish and keep you.

maybe he's malfunctioning but there's very much little beads of tears forming in his eyes. it's been a rather long day so why not let it out? comforting in the feeling of the liquid sliding down the sides of his face, he forces back any vocal sound of his cries. he'll rather sink into silence than to do anything else.

[delfiore]

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (3/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: without ona, you find other ways to fill the hole in your heart, as the consequences of your own actions come back to haunt you.

word count: 7.0k

a/n: holy shit is this one long. some more cameos for the plot who are all good bros to our dumbasses in love 👍

PART I, PART II, PART IV, PART V

2018, 5 years ago.

You always hated it when your hands shake after adrenaline rushes. It felt debilitating, like you weren’t able to make rational decisions because all you could think about was trying to hide your trembling hands.

When your coach called you into his office, you were still cradling your right hand, the other pressing an ice pack to the bruise starting to form on your right knuckles. The way he pointed with his head for you to follow him—doing so without a word—reaffirmed that you were definitely in trouble.

It was a warm day in May, and yet you had two training sessions to complete. You were drenched in sweat afterwards, your body warm and buzzing like a furnace. Definitely not a good day to be pissed off.

Coach Dennis sat in his chair behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him. His lips were curling and jutting out like they always did whenever he was concentrating or trying to look angry. It made him look like a fish.

A silence followed, and then he spoke. “Are you aware of what you did?”

You clenched your jaw to stop yourself from blurting out something sarcastic. “I punched a teammate, Coach.”

“You’re aware that that could get you released, don’t you, Y/N?” He asked. “NYCFC has zero tolerance for violence within the first team, much less the youth academy.”

You lowered your head. Your hands were shaking much less now.

“May I ask why you did it?” Coach pressed further when he didn’t receive an answer.

So you told him. There was a group of girls that had been picking on you for years now. You were never the biggest or strongest, so you used your techniques to weave the ball through defenders, to make you stand out, and it pissed them off.

“So you punched one of them.”

“They were cornering me.” You said simply, looking up at him for the first time since the meeting started.

The man sighed and covered his nose and mouth with his palms. You might have reduced his lifespan by a decade right then.

“Y/N, I know you. I know you will stand up for yourself, and I expect nothing less from you, but this kind of behavior will not and cannot fly here. That’s why I’m telling you this, because I know you’ll be special one day.”

“Those girls are bullies, Coach. They don’t deserve to be here. You should be punishing them!”

“They will get their punishment in due time, but you still punched a teammate,” he said firmly. “You did what you thought was right, but violence is never the answer. You can’t punch your way out of everything.”

“Are you kicking me out?” You asked, trying to remain stoic, yet you were fiddling with your fingers.

“No. I’m blocking your Dallas offer.”

FC Dallas had been one of the top scouts that have had their eyes on you, and you had been working extra hard to impress them. This was your chance to break into their first team, and it was gone.

“You can’t do that!”

“Yes, I can.” He pressed.

“Coach, please—”

“Thank you, Y/N.” He cut you off. “You may leave.”

Leaving Dennis’ office, and walking down the hallway, your eyes caught Sara—the girl you punched—sitting in the infirmary, her face tear-stained, red, and blotchy. She had always looked at you with disdain, but now there was a fear in her gaze as she caught yours from far away. When she did, you got a better look at the damage you’d done to her face. You suddenly felt that shame you should have felt back in the office.

“Yo, Y/N,” you heard someone call when you were outside. “I heard about what happened.”

“You’re gonna lecture me, Gio? ‘Cause Dennis already did.”

“No, man. I was gonna say how badass that was,” he grinned.

A slow grin spread on your face. You shook your head, as Gio put his arm around your shoulder and you walked to the cafeteria.

You met Giovanni Reyna a few years ago when you first joined the academy. In a training session where both the boys and girls participated, you were paired with him for finishing drills. With a hard tackle, he’d almost put you in the hospital. Ever since then, you had been stuck to the hip. He was the first friend you made and the longest friend you’d ever had.

You’d stay another year at NYCFC, honing your skills, and avoiding another run-in with your bullies until the transfer window was near. You were still waiting for FC Dallas to call back, as you had for a year now. It was the only place you wanted, and while you knew it was risky to do so, it was your gateway to Europe through their partnership with Bayern Munich.

“Sara is going to the Red Stars, did you hear?”

“Dylan’s going to Orlando Pride.”

“I heard Hope and Mary-Anne are going to Roma and Lyon!”

You had tried to block out the gossip in the cafeteria, but it made you doubt yourself. What did they have that you didn’t? Yes, you weren’t the tallest or strongest, but neither were Messi, Xavi, or Aguëro. But maybe that was just it; you were not Messi, Xavi, or Aguëro, and you would never be.

Gio was leaving too, there had never been any doubt about that; his dad was a U.S. legend, and it was only natural that he’d give the best to his son. Besides, Gio might have been the next best thing after Christian Pulisic skyrocketed to fame within the past few years. The boy’s move to Borussia Dortmund was almost imminent, and people had been whispering about it for weeks, but you were the one he told first.

“When do you leave?” You asked, picking at the food on your tray. Gio and you were sitting outside having lunch.

“Beginning of June,” he said.

“I’m happy for you,” you muttered, voice cracking quietly, but a small smile remained on your face.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t be sorry. This is a good thing,” you smiled, nodding as you grabbed his hand over the table. “I’ll just miss you a ton.”

“Hey,” Gio searched for your eyes. “I have no doubt that you’ll be scouted soon. I know it. I know you have what it takes to be at the top, whether it’s in Europe, or here.”

Your best friend left less than a month later. You had wrapped your arms around him so tightly and hid your face in his neck, afraid you might bawl like a baby the last time you saw him on the training ground. But you didn’t cry then.

You did cry, though, when Coach Dennis called you into his office again a week later. This time, instead of expressing his disappointment in you, he hugged you tight, congratulated you, and let you read the email that Portland Thorns FC sent to request a transfer for you to their first team.

2023, present.

“You ever thought about what you’d be doing if you weren’t playing football?”

You had just drifted off a bit when the voice next to you spoke. Furrowing your eyebrows, you wondered how she wasn’t absolutely battered.

“Don’t know. Never had a plan B. Didn’t want to.”

“Right. But I feel like, I go to training, I kick the ball, people come and watch me, and then when I go home after, I don’t know who I am. It’s like . . . I’m nothing without the footballer.”

You didn’t expect your hookup to be opening up to you like this. You’d only just met her a few hours ago at a club. You had played against her a few times in the league but had never spoken to her face-to-face. Though not the best on the dance floor, she made an excellent dance partner in bed.

“Well, having a personality is overrated nowadays anyway.” You replied, closing your eyes again. “Nobody cares who you are until you fuck up on the pitch, so just don’t fuck up on the pitch.”

“Easy for you to say,” she huffed. “You have your starter place at City guaranteed.”

You ignored her and turned to the other side. A few minutes later, you heard the sheets shuffling, then the sound of a zipper. “This was fun,” she whispered before you heard your bedroom door opening and closing.

No barks, it meant Bratwurst was asleep, luckily for your ears. Most people you had been bringing home he had been barking at. You wanted to think it was him being protective over you, but he would bark at your teammates too when they would come over, except for one person.

Ever since you came back from the World Cup much earlier than you had anticipated, you liked to find company at clubs and parties. In your time of need, you’d found that you preferred sporadic ones, fewer complications, and headaches.

You were also invited to events; award shows, the British Grand Prix, and a few fashion shows. Those you never really bothered with, but they were chances for your stylist to go crazy with the outfits (which you never complained).

The only good thing to come out of those, however, was seeing Gio again at Paris Fashion Week. The moment you saw him, you gladly accepted it when he brought you into a tight hug, feeling like that 13-year-old again when you first met. You kept in touch over the years, but your schedules were always too different to ever meet up. But it was as if no time had passed, and the only thing that kept you both from talking till morning was that Gio needed rest for his rehabilitation training the next day.

“I’m going on a trip to Ibiza soon with a few friends. You should come,” he said.

“I don’t know, G. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t. I want you to come. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Just because you have a girlfriend now doesn't mean you’re allowed to set me up,” you smirked and shoved him.

“I’ve seen the stuff that came out about you, Y/N,” he sighed. “Is it true?”

“I’m not doing anything illegal if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’s not what I meant. About you being seen at clubs day in and day out. What is this really about, Y/N?”

You know Gio wanted the best for you, even though sometimes he was too stubborn to admit it. You were too, but you loved him to bits. Maybe that’s why you two fit together so well.

“I let someone close to my heart, and it fucked me over.”

Gio nodded softly. “Well then. Just consider it a vacation. She’ll still be there though.”

“And you won’t make me go out with her?”

“As if I can make you do anything.”

Unless you were legally prohibited or physically unable to, you would never turn down a proper party. So there you were, on a yacht in Ibiza with your best friend and several other people in his entourage. Gio, that little shit, though having promised not to set you up, was elbowing you at a woman the moment she set foot on the yacht. Anyone with eyes would say that she was beautiful; curly hair, plump lips, and soulful eyes you could get lost in.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. It didn’t hurt to try.

You went over to the bar where she stood and ordered a drink. Glancing behind your shoulder, you noticed Gio sending you a big thumbs-up.

“So, you are the one Gio keeps raving on about,” said the woman next to you. Her eyes were really pretty.

“I guess so. That’s me,” you let out a laugh, albeit shakily. “Am I everything you dreamed of and more?”

It was her turn to laugh. “He definitely mentioned your confidence, yes.”

“Well, then I’ll definitely keep you around for sure. But just so you know, I do other things besides kick a football around and look pretty doing it.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself,” you smirked. “I’m Y/N,” you extended a hand.

“Leena,” she took your hand in a firm handshake and raised her drink to you.

You took a sip, and watched her behind the glass, only to notice that she was looking back at you as well. “So, how did you know Gio?”

“I worked with him on a couple of photoshoots. I’m a photographer,” leaning against the bar with her drink, she smiled and pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. “He was really nervous, said he didn’t like getting his picture taken. Luckily, I used to work with kids and animals back home in Finland, so making a full-grown man laugh for his headshots wasn’t too hard.”

“You’re from Finland?”

“Mmhm. I go back and forth between London and Manchester now, though.”

“Interesting,” you nodded inconspicuously. “I play in Manchester. Nice city.”

Before you knew it, the sun had started to go down, and it was time to drive the yacht back to port. As you all made your way to the exit to disembark, you waited for Leena before offering your hand to help her down the ramp.

Your group was to head into town, and have some dinner before going to a local music festival to finish the night off. It was dark by the time you arrived at the venue, and you wasted no time in immersing yourself in the music. Gio and the others were long forgotten, and you found yourself enjoying your time with Leena much more than you had anticipated.

You told her about your job, and she asked about the World Cup. As much as you hated to talk about it, having declined several interviews and podcast appearances in which mentions of the tournament were inevitable, you told her everything she wanted to know.

She was so attentive and listened, even though you knew she didn’t follow the sport, and for that you were thankful. It has been a while since you talked to someone about how you felt and have them listen so wholeheartedly.

“Do you ever miss home?” You asked once the both of you had taken a break from dancing.

“Sometimes, but right now my wanderlust is bigger than my homesickness. I want to see everything the world has to offer.”

You swirled your martini on the standing table. “I’ve been away from home for so long, I don’t really know where home is anymore.”

“Well, I think home is where you make it.” She lay a hand on your bare arm, caressing it slowly. “If you’ve already made a home at this age, what else is there to do?”

Your eyes trailed along her arm up to her face. Your heart slowed, and the music seemed to have faded in the background. Despite the chaos of the festival, several drunk people dancing next to you, and your friends have already disappeared somewhere, you suddenly had an overwhelming urge to kiss Leena.

But it wasn’t her that you wanted to kiss, not really. You wanted to kiss her because it reminded you of familiar feelings, to have someone in your corner that you didn’t have to pretend to. But of course that was all based on a lie.

As she reached into your martini to pick up the olive pick and held it out for you, you bit down gently on the fruit and let her pull the pick away. You smiled bashfully.

“I’ll go get us some more drinks,” you cleared your throat. “Do you want some fries too?”

You needed to get out of there before you did something you regret and ruin a good thing, again.

The bartender was off once you’d given him your order. Whilst waiting for the drinks, you looked around for familiar faces and spotted Gio and a couple of his friends “dancing” to the music in one corner, clearly quite inebriated.

“Y/N.”

You turned around and wished that you didn’t. It was Ona, looking at you like you were some sort of alien.

“Ona,” you breathed.

“Hi. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with friends.” Now would be a good time for those drinks, bartender.

She nodded. “How are you?”

“Fine,” you said too quickly. “Congratulations by the way, on winning.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“You guys deserved it. No matter who’s trying to take it away from you, you did, and you should celebrate it,” you meant it and tried to force a smile that adequately expressed your sentiments. Needless to say, it would be easier to be saying this to one of her teammates, anyone but her.

You remembered the night she broke your heart, the night when you left your heart by the sidewalk as you trekked all the way home on foot.

That was three months ago, and with all the distractions you’ve indulged yourself in, somehow it still ached.

The bartender handed you your drinks just then, and you were off.

“Y/N, wait.” You closed your eyes. “I’m sorry . . . for what I said, how I said it.”

“No, I think you made your point very clear, Ona. Have a good rest of your trip.”

“Y/N, I did feel something too! I did!”

Ona felt like biting her tongue at the look you gave her when you turned around, the two glasses of Negronis dangling in your fingers by your side. She had almost regretted it when your lips trembled, and your chest rose and fell as if an implosion was imminent.

You took a large step towards her and exhaled. “You don’t get to do that. Not after I’ve tried to do everything to forget you. You can’t do that.”

Ona opened her mouth to say something, but she knew anything she said would only add to your fury.

“I hope you’re happy by the way.” You said mockingly. “Seeing that you got what you wanted. Winning the World Cup, moving back to Barcelona. Hope you’re happy. Bye, Ona.”

She watched unmovingly as you walked away from her, back to a table where a woman was waiting, and pulled her towards the crowd to dance. She found herself returning to her group, not being able to get the image of you swaying behind the woman with your arm around her neck out of her mind.

What kind of sick joke was the universe playing to make her see you right when she was supposed to be enjoying her days off? Maybe it was her punishment, having broken your heart then practically fleeing the country immediately after.

“Where’s the drink, Ona? You were supposed to get us some,” Lucy questioned her when she came back.

“Oh, sorry. I thought I saw someone.”

“Oi, is that Y/N? Y/N!”

“No, please don’t.” Ona grabbed Lucy’s arm, and quickly pulled it down.

Realizing Lucy didn’t know about it, she knew she was going to have to tell her one way or another. Surprisingly, Lucy didn’t laugh or tease her about it after hearing the entire story. They were back at their hotel, with another bottle of wine passed between them, and Ona told her new teammate everything.

“You were under our noses the whole time, and we didn’t even realize,” Lucy snickered with a shake of her head.

“Yeah,” the night had taken a toll on her, and Ona started to feel the effect of the alcohol as she lay staring at the ceiling. “Have I made a huge mistake? Letting myself be involved in all this.”

“Obviously, but the heart wants what it wants. Trust me,” the brunette took another sip from the bottle. “It is a hard situation, but she needs space, as much as you can give her so she can heal.”

“Sounds like you’ve been through it before,” Ona smirked and poked her with her elbows.

The older woman only laughed. “Something like that.”

As hard as it was to accept the truth, Ona had to move on. She didn’t have a lot of time to mope around, however, before she knew it, the season had already begun. Barcelona had always been a place to return to, and the team needed someone who had Barcelona in her DNA to complete the defense.

It was all going swimmingly, too much so even. The season started out slow, but they grabbed the wins when they needed them. Then it was time for the Champions League draw. Barcelona had been drawn into a group with RSC Anderlecht, AS Roma, and Manchester City.

Just her luck. She’d have to see you twice before the year ended. Barcelona would be going to Manchester first.

With her chance encounter with you in Ibiza still fresh on her mind, she joined the queue for warm-up, looking up every once in a while in case she spotted you. When she did, you were standing by the sideline talking animatedly to your other former teammate Keira. She tore her eyes away before you could notice her, and swallowed that uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Longing for your American girl?” Mapi said with a smirk.

“Shut up,” Ona mumbled, jogging away to do stretches. “I knew Lucy would blab.”

“So Lucy knows? I was just making an educated guess from the way you keep making those sad puppy eyes at her.”

“At who?” Ingrid appeared from behind.

“Y/L/N,” Mapi raised her eyebrows at her girlfriend with a smirk, and Ingrid gasped excitedly.

“Oh my god, Y/N Y/L/N?! You guys would be so cute together!”

“Guys, come on. We have a match to play,” Ona groaned and begrudgingly jogged away. Just before she started her sprints though, she snuck one last glance at you, when you briefly looked back. As if having been burnt just by a look, you quickly said goodbye to Keira and went back to your half to continue warming up.

“Do you think they were already together?” Ingrid whispered at Mapi.

Mapi sighed, “Definitely.”

Ona started that match on the left, as Lucy also started and occupied her usual right side. You were playing on the right this time to allow Lauren Hemp to be on the left wing. It meant there would be none of her usual duels with you.

Ever since Lucy’s slip-up in the World Cup final, Ona knew she had been more cautious in defense and stayed back most of the time. It gave her the opportunity to set up passes deeper whilst also keeping you at bay, the tactic Ona herself used at United and one she knew you absolutely despised.

Sure enough, you stupidly went up against only one of the best fullbacks in the world. Your dribbling and speed were to your advantage, and Lucy—with all her experience and knowledge of your play—easily controlled you at the flanks. So you tried inverting inside, and Lucy followed you too, if not Irene did.

Man City was pressing high, giving the offense plenty of opportunities in the box, but Barcelona was better in defense. It was only when a precise lofted ball was sent past the back line, that Lucy was trailing after you. You went down just outside of the box. As everyone was getting ready for the free kick, you were still on the ground. Your ankle had been stomped on by Irene during the struggle.

Ona quickly jogged over and put her hand over your shoulder, “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Don’t put your hands on me,” you seethed, swatting her hand away, just as the physios came over and sprayed your ankle. Just moments later, you were able to stand up, but you never spared her another glance.

As much as it stung, she clenched her jaw to stop the tears and got ready for the free kick.

Barcelona ended up winning 2-0, a stellar start to their UWCL campaign. While Ona went to shake hands with several players from the opposition, she looked for you, seeing you walk towards the stands. You took pictures and signed for some people, even gave a little kid your shirt, but she saw the way you lit up when talking to someone in the crowd. Upon closer look, it was the woman you were with in Ibiza.

Your smile was blinding as Leena was led down the pitch towards you. “Hi,” you breathed. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Of course I did. You gave me tickets, remember?” She brought you in for a hug. “I’m sorry you lost, but it was very entertaining. I took lots of pictures.”

“Of me, I hope?” You smirked.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Keep dreaming, Y/L/N.”

Smiling slightly, you brought her in for a side hug. “Thank you for coming,” you kissed Leena’s cheek. “Means a lot.”

Ona was watching the entire interaction, fuming on the inside. Lucy and Mapi knew to steer clear of her path once they returned to the dressing room by the glower on her usually affable face.

SportsPro Media: Y/N Y/L/N Seen ‘Smiling’ After Man City Lost to Barcelona in Women’s Champions League Group Stage “Fans have taken to social media to criticize the winger, 21, after she was seen smiling and conversing with fans at the stands after a 2-0 loss to reigning champions Barcelona. The criticism came after several of Y/L/N’s teammates on the USWNT were also condemned for their overt optimism after barely making it out of their group in the Women’s World Cup this summer. Among the critics was former USWNT international Carli Lloyd. Y/L/N was also seen getting more than friendly with her rumored girlfriend, whom the winger was spotted on holiday with in Ibiza alongside U.S. men’s team’s Gio Reyna after a shockingly early World Cup exit. […]”

When the second round of the group stage came around, you were much better prepared. Though you were playing away in Barcelona, Man City were preparing to win. You were definitely training to do so, so when the starting XI lineup was posted on the door in the dressing room, you were stunned when your name wasn’t on the list. You had been benched before—it was all part of the game—but only during less important games or for your own recovery, but never during an important game like this.

“Gareth, can I speak to you, please?” You said, gritting your teeth when the gaffer opened the door in his office.

“Of course,” he gestured for you to follow inside. “Take a seat.”

You remained standing. “Why am I not starting for the Barcelona game?”

“I’m doing what I think will be best for the team, Y/N.”

“By benching me? You need me!”

“Easy, Y/L/N. No one is above the club, and I don’t appreciate your tone,” Gareth’s tone was despicably calm, yet no less menacing.

You took a deep breath to compose yourself. “I want to know why, in an important game such as this one.”

“It seems . . . that you might have a personal reason as to why you want to start this game, but I have to rotate the squad and—”

“Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean? What personal reason?”

Gareth sighed. “I’ve been informed that you’ve had a personal relationship with one of Barcelona’s players that didn’t end too well.”

“So? What does that have to do with anything?” You all but yelled.

“I’m making a decision that I deem best for the club, and you and every other player will listen because I am in charge!” Gareth had never yelled, not like this. It made you flinch. “I will not have my players’ private life bleed into the performance of the team. Now, you can either support my decision or I will have you removed from the squad traveling to Barcelona, and replace you with someone else who will put the team above their own interest.”

Your mouth is sewn shut, just by the sheer shock at what the manager had just said. You stormed out of his office without another word, slamming the door open to mask what you were truly feeling inside. It wasn’t fury—you were beyond that—it has turned into fear of being replaced; fear of being left behind.

Man City drew that match, and it was just enough to send the team to the quarterfinals, having done it entirely without you. Gareth had made up a bullshit excuse to the press to make you stay home.

Your agent, Toni, was much more furious for you, saying what he did breach the contract you signed and that you should be taking action. In the five years they have been your agent, you have never had to endure that much legal talk over a club issue before. You’d be amused at their passionate rambling if you weren’t already nursing a headache.

“I think you should leave, Y/N,” they finally said after getting off the phone.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “But where would I even go? I don’t have any offers yet.”

“You will, once the news comes out that you’re looking to leave the club. You only have one year left on your contract anyway, plenty would seek to employ you.”

You had been through this before. The waiting after letting it be known that you wanted to leave was the worst, but you weren’t just a nobody anymore. You were Y/N Y/L/N, and you would have it your way one way or another.

“Alright, then.” You nodded firmly. “Let’s have a talk with Gareth. I’m not gonna scurry out of this club like a rat.”

Goal.com: Y/N Y/L/N Looking for Man City Exit After Tension With Boss Gareth Taylor “Sources within Man City are saying the American winger could be on her way out of Manchester this summer. The player has reportedly ‘fallen out of favor’ with City gaffer Gareth Taylor after ‘expressing her vexation over lack of playing time’. The 22-year-old was left out of the squad traveling to Barcelona for the 4th group stage match of the Women’s Champions League altogether and has since featured in significantly fewer matches for the Citizens. Several European clubs are reportedly keen to sign Y/L/N, but she could also be making a return to the NWSL for what could be a record signing in the women’s game yet. […]

Though you were scared, it was much easier to let go of a burden that you have been carrying around for so long.

Which was why you had agreed to come to a concert with Leena when she had asked you. You would let yourself have fun and connect with someone without being scared anymore because what Ona did to you had nothing with who you were, and you sure as hell weren’t going to pay the price for it.

Needless to say, you and Leena had a great time. You were been walking back to your car in the parking lot when you saw a flash. You sighed and walked Leena towards the passenger side.

“Get in the car. Don’t come out, okay?” You told her with a smile, which was quickly wiped off once you saw the photographers approaching.

“Y/N, are you leaving City? Where do you think you’re going next?”

“Did you have a fight with Gareth?”

“Y/N, are you going to Barcelona?”

You entered the car with an exasperated sigh. Your breathing became heavy as you attempted to start the car, and your hand started to tremble.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Leena spoke softly. “Don’t let them get to you.”

She placed a hand over yours and squeezed it softly. Finding her eyes, you nodded gratefully, and drove away, trying your very best not to run those imbeciles over.

You went back to her apartment where you both ordered some takeout. Over a movie, you talked about anything and everything.

It was like that with Leena. Somehow, she has made you feel okay with pouring your entire heart out in front of her, her caring eyes and encouraging silence taking away your doubts about looking like an emotional fool in front of her.

But the moment you saw her eyes dart back and forth between yours, then down to your lips and leaned in, you froze. You wanted this, only because it would be good for you, but you couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry, Leena. I-I—” Jumping out of the couch, you stuttered like a broken record. Of course, she would have read it like that, you couldn’t blame her. You didn’t quite know what you wanted, but all you could think about was how different it was to kiss Leena than it was to kiss Ona.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t try to stop you. In fact, she didn’t say anything at all. She might as well have been just as shell-shocked as you were by your reaction. You bolted out of there as quickly as you can, like a coward.

Unsurprisingly, Leena hasn’t tried to contact you. You couldn’t blame her, you’d be pissed at yourself too. It seemed everyone was pissed at you these days.

Chloe approached you once in the weight room to ask if you were leaving. You could only offer her an apology, but she brought you in for a hug. You would miss her the most.

Meanwhile, Toni was working tirelessly on your next move, and all you could do was train and be the best footballer you could be while you waited. Even if Gareth didn’t deserve your effort, your teammates did, and you owed it to them to give it your all until the day you left the training ground for the last time.

There was only one destination you had in mind, but going there would mean having to confront your serial one-night stand that you were possibly in love with, who also didn’t share your feelings.

You couldn’t let that deter you from ascending the football hierarchy, though. You couldn’t, and you won’t. You would do it one way or another because it was where you deserved to be. You would show Gareth that he was wrong about you.

“I can’t believe you’re going to Lyon! That’s crazy, Y/N!” Gio said over the phone. He was the first person you told and was ecstatic when you did.

“They still haven’t sent anything official yet, but it’s looking like it, yeah.”

“Well, what happened to the Barcelona deal?”

“My agent was flipping out when I said no, but then this deal came two days later and now they’re flipping out again but for a good reason.”

“That’s awesome, dude! I’m happy for you!”

“I don’t know, I just—I feel like I’m not there yet or something. Lyon wants me, but they’re freakin’ Lyon!”

“Hey, I know all about imposter syndrome, alright? But you can’t let that keep you from playing at one of the best clubs in the world.”

“Don’t let Dortmund hear you say that,” you smirked.

“Eh, we know where we are. That’s why we sold Erling and Jude,” Gio spoke. “Point is, they want you. They clearly see how good of a player you are. So get your ass over to France and show them that!”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You’re right.”

“Alright, gotta go. But hey, let’s go for a drink next time you’re in town. Hopefully, by then, you’re a Lyon player.”

You ended the call and got up to go take a shower. Just before you went to the bathroom, though, your phone rang again.

Grinning, you picked up again, “Look, if you’re telling me you’re gonna set me up again, I swear to god, Gio.”

But you didn’t hear Gio’s voice or teasing laugh. Instead, there was a shaky sniffle on the other side.

You checked the caller ID, and it was an unknown number. From Barcelona.

“Hello?” You said, unsure.

“Hey, Y/N. I just . . . just needed to hear your voice.”

You sighed because you knew exactly who it was. You had etched the cadence and tone of her voice into your memories during the many nights you’ve spent together.

“It’s Ona, by the way.”

“I know,” you nodded. You didn’t quite know how else to carry on this conversation. “I heard Barcelona’s beautiful this time of year.”

“Yeah, it is,” she said, sniffling again. “You should see the beach at sunset. It’s great. I go and sit there almost every night.”

“Are you drunk, Ona?”

“No, no. Maybe a little bit. Just a little bit though. I had two glasses of wine. Or else I wouldn’t have the courage to be doing this. Just like I didn’t have the courage to tell you that I had feelings for you too. Have, I still do.”

You closed your eyes and shut off the water. Then she said it again, “I have feelings for you, Y/N. I think about you all the time. And I know you might be with someone now, but I just can’t . . .”

She started crying again. “I can’t go on without telling you anymore.”

“This is incredibly selfish, what you’re doing, Ona.” You were close to tears too, hearing how much this hurt her.

“I know. I’m sorry I fucked it all up. I’m sorry for hurting you. If I could take back everything I said, I would. I’m so, so sorry.”

You took a deep breath and sat back down on your bed. “I forgive you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was selfish too,” you said quietly. “You should go to sleep. You have a Champions League final to play tomorrow.”

You ended the call before you or she could say anything else.

“Shit,” you mumbled and threw yourself back onto the bed. This was exactly why you had to say no to Barcelona, even though it was your dream to play for them. Alas, it started to feel like a mistake.

You dialed Toni. “Hey, um, please don’t kill me for asking this, but could you reach back out to Barcelona and tell them I’m very interested?”

“I knew you’d pull some shit like this so I’ve stalled them. They don’t know we’re negotiating with Lyon, and would probably be fine with setting up a call soon. It’d be a headache to handle Lyon, though.”

“That’s why you’re the best agent in the world, right?” You smiled sheepishly.

“We’ll see, Y/N. We’ve got some leverage for now, but it’s not guaranteed that Barça won’t say no.”

“Thank you, Toni!” You hung up the phone.

ESPN: Barcelona Completes Signing of Y/N Y/L/N from Manchester City on World Record Transfer Fee “Manchester City W.F.C. has agreed to sell USWNT winger Y/N Y/L/N to Barcelona on a £485,000 record fee. This transfer surpasses Keira Walsh’s own move to Barcelona from the Sky Blues in 2022 with a fee of around £400,000. The signing of the summer was finally completed after several clubs have been reported to enter the race. Olympique Lyon was also close to acquiring the 22-year-old’s signature, but the deal broke down in late June when the player repeatedly expressed her interest in joining the Catalan giants. A technically gifted forward, Y/L/N can play on either side as a winger, and occasionally as an attacking midfielder for the national team. Her impending arrival at La Blaugrana would provide a boost in attacking power to an already impressive Barcelona side. […]”

“Jesus, you look like someone murdered your mother or something. Liven up, please.” Mapi smacked her Ona on the shoulder.

“I’m just a little nervous to see her again,” the younger girl muttered, fiddling with her fingers.

She could hear voices outside the dressing room getting closer. At the sound of your voice, her ears trained. She remained facing her locker, trying to occupy herself until you came in. She really felt like throwing up.

You greeted Aitana first with a quick hug, Marta too, then Lucy brought you in for a spin and released you for Keira to go in for the hug.

You said hello to Mapi and Ingrid, both of whom hugged you tightly.

Then you were in front of her. She had expected you to not even look at her, after what she had said over the phone. But you smiled a genuine smile, the one you used to give her whenever the world was a little too hard to bear.

Ona remembered everything. From the sheer hatred and resentment to the lust and sleepless nights under the sheets, to the longing and heartache she endured away from you.

“Welcome,” she whispered quietly, afraid you might not reciprocate her greeting.

Instead, you pulled her into you and held her tightly.

a/n: i’ve decided to add some lore for our y/n, lmk if you like it, if you don’t like it, if you think it’s too long and you just wanna get straight to the smooching :)) there’s more to come but now the stakes 😌☝️ are higher now that we have some info on what makes y/n ticks. i’m going back to college this week so updates might come later but yeah pls let me know what you think!!

[spacebarbarianweird]

"you came so fast, I barely even touched you" holy shit.

I have no idea where the original list of prompts is but I love your request and here I present you a smut fic about Astarion and Tiriel!

Shadows

Synopsis: Astarion dissociates during sex, believing he "owes" sex to Tiriel.

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Tags: smut, handjob, NSFW, trauma talk

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Tiriel has completely lost herself.

There is nothing in this world but her and Astarion. He’s pinned her to the bed, shut her mouth with his kisses and Tiriel thinks her legs, currently tightly wrapped around his torso, won’t close ever again.

Tiriel grabs a fistful of his curls, making him groan. Astarion pulls away a bit and then pierces her neck with his fangs, causing her to whimper with pain and pleasure.

With every gulp, his thrusts become rougher and harder. He releases her neck and Tiriel smells the iron scent of her own blood.

“Such a delicious little thing,” he growls. “So warm for me.”

Tiriel tries to make eye contact but Astarion turns away. His mind is a thousand miles away.

“Astarion,” she meowls.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he squeezes her wrists harder and rolls his hips.

“Astarion, please,” Tiriel says, but he doesn’t pay attention.

Now it’s not lovemaking, not sex.

Just a mindless fucking, perfect in its performance.

And Tiriel hates every second of this.

“Astarion, let me go!”

He places his palm over her mouth and hushes something pointless in her ear. He speaks of love, passion… He may not mean a word he says.

Tiriel has had enough.

She manages to set her leg free and punches Astarion forcing him to release her at once.

He gasps and moves to the other side of the bed. His cock is still hard and it glistens in the dim light, still coated in precum and her own wetness.

“Did I—Gods!” Astarion covers his face in shame. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s ok, you didn’t hurt me,” She takes his hand in hers. “What happened? You were dissociating again.”He looks at her and then takes a blanket to cover his lower parts, as if embarrassed by his own erection. 

Tiriel studies his perfect face and notices he’s avoiding looking at her.

They spent the last two days apart. Tiriel was offered a job—to help a group of adventurers deal with a banshee, and it was clear they wouldn’t tolerate a vampire. So, Astarion agreed to stay in the Inn with his books—and Tiriel promised to return as soon as possible.

Be it the consequences of the fight or something else, Tiriel was coming back to the Inn with only one desire.

She wanted to fuck.

Astarion quickly caught the scent of her arousal and, while joking about her overall appearance (bruises, sweat, a ripped shirt), he undressed her and gave her what she desired most.

“Astarion,” she caresses his knuckles. “You could have just said you weren’t in the mood.”

Now he looks at her. A bitter smile twists his face. 

“It’s difficult to say ‘no’ to you, darling” He chuckles. “Didn’t want to disappoint you”

Tiriel grabs his shoulders. “Astarion, don’t be stupid! Do you think I like forcing you to do things you don’t want? You think I… Gods, Astarion, you aren’t an object to be used, not a means to an end. You don’t owe me sex or intimacy or anything! We’ve talked about it!”

Astarion turns his head away. “I had a very bad reverie while you were absent, '' he admits. “Really bad one. I will spare you the details and I don't want to talk about it. I didn’t want you to notice and tried to pretend everything was normal. When it wasn’t.”

Tiriel puts her head on his shoulder.

“Astarion, tell me what you want. But be honest. Please.”

He exhales. “Well… I… definitely can’t finish what we started but my body disagrees.”

Tiriel pulls away the blanket. Astarion’s manhood looks painfully hard. She feels a tugging sensation between her legs but she manages to suppress it. Whatever they are going to do won’t be about her.

“Can you just… Sit in front of me?” he asks.

Tiriel nods. She adjusts herself on a pillow so Astarion can see all of her. She spreads her legs a bit and smiles.

“Come for me, love,” she murmurs watching as he strokes himself.

Astarion maintains eye contact fucking his own hand. Tiriel suspects she doesn’t look seductive or particularly appealing, but she’s learned to love herself as she is. If Astarion finds her attractive and desires her, she shouldn’t care about anything else.

Then, he turns away again. The movements become mechanical—he bites his lower lip and tries to keep performing but Tiriel has known him for too long not to notice.

“Astarion?”

“Fuck!” he unclenches his hand.”I can’t.”

“Do you want me to help?” Tiriel leans to him.

He hesitates but then nods.

Tiriel tugs Astarion to her chest making sure he is comfortable between her legs. She kisses his shoulder and then touches his nipples—his body reacts to her fingers, forcing him to squirm.

“I don’t want to hurt you, I don't want you to feel used. I want you to be loved, to be cared for,” she strokes his cock and Astarion moans.

She has never done it before. Astarion often pleasures her in more than one way; his fingers have been inside her not less than his cock. Meanwhile, her role is almost always a passive one.

Well, unless she rides him—but that’s another story to tell.

She touches the sensitive tip and then proceeds to stroke the shaft, enjoying the sensation of silk-like skin under her fingers.

Astarion squirms, he digs his fingernails into the sheet. Tiriel uses her second hand to caress his balls. She squeezes them a bit and the moment she does it thick strings of cum coat Tiriel’s fingers.

“Fuck!” he gasps.

Tiriel pays little to no attention to the mess he’s made and adores his face. His eyes are closed, and his mouth is half open. There is nothing left from his usual smirk and a composed smile—Astarion is just a mindless vampire right now, drowned in his own pleasure.

“I barely even touched you,” Tiriel playfully says. “And you’ve come so fast.”

His cock is still hard and Tiriel kisses her lover’s lips.

“Please…” he mutters. “Do this… again.”

“Anything for you, love.” 

This time Tiriel squeezes him tighter, her movements rough and passionate. Astarion moans and hisses uncontrollably.

“Hells…”

“I love you so much,” Tiriel whispers in his ear. “I am so lucky to have you. Don’t hold yourself. ”

Astarion rolls his hips fucking her hand. By this moment she doesn’t even have to move— she just holds Astarion the same way she holds a sword handle.

“Come for me, love.” She licks the tip of his ear and then carefully bites it. As she feels his skin on her tongue, he clutches at the fabric of the sheets with such force that he tears it.

Then he opens his eyes wide and cums again.

If he was alive, he would pant loudly and his heart would beat like after climbing up the stairs in a tower.

But his body is silent and Tiriel moves a bit to see his face better.

The image doesn’t disappoint her—Astarion is completely flustered, all in her power, vulnerable, and mindless.

Finally, he looks at her. She smiles and puts her coated fingers to her lips and licks the cum.

“Wild girl,” he murmurs and kisses Tiriel, tasting himself.

“Do you want to cuddle?” she asks.

“Do you really have to ask?” Astarion is back to his common self. “Darling, I thought we'd been cuddling longer than we’ve been having sex.”

“Then how do you want to do it?”

Astarion hesitates, then pushes her onto the bed, forcing Tiriel to lie on her back. He then settles his head on her bare lap, hugging her thigh like a pillow.

“I had a reverie about a woman,” he finally says. “She knew I was a vampire and I was her ‘reward” for doing some… job for him. She was a nobility, a rich girl who always got what she wanted—and she wanted me to be her fucktoy for a month. I should have been grateful because for once I didn’t have to flinch at any unexpected sound or be afraid of torture. Instead of rats, I fed on horses and dogs which was much better than my usual diet. I even could read books in her library and, gods, I spent every spare minute there.”

“But the price was to sleep with her?” Tiriel asks.

“Well, the bitch had very interesting views on sex, and any regular intercourse was too boring for her. Besides, she deluded herself that she asked for permission—but I was ordered to agree to anything she suggested. And the bitch was as inventive as perverted.”

Tiriel caresses his scalp waiting for the story to continue. Astarion’s mind is like a hangman’s archive—Tiriel can never guess which disgusting fact she will learn next, but it is always worse than the previous one.

“I was in her bedroom and… she was forcing herself on me. I wanted to strangle her, to rip her throat. Her touches were acid-like. It was… a deep reverie when I wasn’t aware it was a memory. I was sure I was still there. And then… it all faded away. And then you returned with your arousal and your passion.”

Guilt knots in Tiriel’s stomach.

“I am sorry.”

“Don’t. I should have just told you I wasn’t in the mood. You would have stopped, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course. Without  a doubt.”

He turns around so he can see Tiriel’s face but still uses her thighs as a pillow. 

“You are warm,” he mutters. 

“And you resemble a big cat.”

“Is it a compliment?”

“Yes.”

Tiriel feels like falling asleep. The last thing she sees is Astarion’s crimson eyes that look at her with awe and tenderness.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-alll @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids

[squiddy-god]

Hi!! I’m new so I’m not sure if there’s a character limit but could I get the baldurs gate 3 characters with a plus size gn reader?

(If there is a limit could I get Wyll, Karlach, and/or Astarion?)

Thank you!!

I added gale because i want that wizard SO BAD this is a super cute request just keep in mind that i haven't played a whole lot of baldur's gate- also there is no character limit but i think id cap it at like 7 for hcs. Maybe slight possible spoilers. Yall are so lucky i almost included karniss for funsies but held back my spider simping 

Cw : might have slightly suggestive bits but is sfw, gn reader, no pronouns, fluffy, mentions of past body shaming, 

Wyll

He's so sweet- a real gentleman at heart

He loves to rest his head on your shoulder and wrap his arms rough your waist 

After the horns tho it makes it a bit harder so he settles for holding you and resting his head on your chest 

Kinda obsessed with your hands, always kisses the back of your hands or the inside of your wrist

Hes prone to stress, so when he’s feeling particularly stressed he gets kinda clingy- he will (wyll haha) never admit that he's being clingy tho

He hugs you, a deep sigh leaving his lips as he squeezes your sides and relaxes with exhale. 

Your soft and comforting and after all the things he's been through he is in desperate need of some comfort 

I think wyll enjoys being seen as more knightly, your knight in shining armor

That being said this man can and will defend your honor, people can be so cruel and he won't stand for it, he is absolutely going to defend you when people are talking shit because he will have none of it 

Wyll is a sweet man, he wants you to be comfortable and happy with him, so he does his best to reassure you about how he loves every bit of you and tries to ease your insecurities 

Karlach 

Hrmmmmgghghggdgg love her,,,love her so much hehehehe

She loves cuddles so much and is so touch starved fight me on this 

She sees you and gets a sappy smile because she is just so mushy 

I think out of all the companions she is definitely one of the top chubby person lovers

Handsy, she loves to hold and squish every part of you, the way your chubby arms wrap around her waist and torso while she rubs your back is heaven actually

I think she would love tummy kisses, she loves them even more if you get flustered because you are cute<3 she really adores how soft you are

She likes picking you up and she absolutely can and will at every opportunity that presents itself 

She is throwing hands if someone body shames you

Like she gets the most aghast expression of “how dare they” 

Normally people just turn tail and run but she is so down to throw hands 

Being insecure with karlach is very hard because she has no issue telling you how much she loves you, and she is very honest, her words really show threw her actions 

Astarion 

I feel like astarion is someone who understands insecurity on a deep level, there are many aspects of himself that make him insecure

You have been so warm to him, you love him so genuinely he wants to return the favor by also loving you so genuinely, size doesn't matter to this man 

Ignore that last part he loves feeding on you, so much to sink his teeth into ;) like eating something warm and comforting 

“Gorgeous as always” is a regular statement he makes whenever seeing you 

Loves to hold you before bed because he can just relax and feel himself melt into you.

Astarion is very fond of squishing your cheeks, if hes happy or mad at you your cheeks are getting squashed because this vampire has a bit of cuteness aggression 

King of talk shit get bit because he is kinda just looking for a reason to have a little murder as a treat

Like he hears someone body shame you and is like “can i pleaseeeeee stab them?just a little” 

He will find them 

He won't tolerate people adding to your self doubt because he thinks you are genuinely just the most beautiful creature and he WON >:3

Gale

I WANT THIS WIZARD SO BAD 

I'm so incredibly down bad for gale he's such a dork i love him 

He's awkward honestly, he'd like to be all suave but when it comes to physical affection he is quite awkward. 

Eventually he finds peace in just being able to hold you close, he particularly enjoys being able to hold you against his chest while he reads to you

I think he would enjoy teaching you about magic (assuming you aren't also a wizard) and if you are a wizard he still enjoys reading you books about magic 

He's a sucker for just being sweet and domestic with you

Big fan of your thighs and if you are sitting in his vicinity his hand is always resting on your thigh occasionally giving it a gentle squeeze to calm you both down 

Big fan of shoulder kisses when you both first wake up

I love sassy kinda mean gale when he talks to rude people so i love the idea of him just verbally destroying someone who talks sit about you 

Hes actually pretty good about ginning you reassurance for your insecurities

He doesn't have the best way with words sometimes but he is just so flabbergasted at your thoughts because he personally wants to fuse souls lmao 

[poomphuripan]

the mingjoe hotel room scene has been running on loop in my head all day. uppoom are just insanely talented people Jesus Christ. i would love to hear your thoughts on it!!

and cheers to no phone throwing—just lots of pushing and biting(?), which is definitely a little bit more palatable. i really enjoy that like with the ep3 bathroom scene, ming’s extreme physical behavior is not being romanticized. like sure some (me) will still find it hot but it’s very.. ugly looking? like the way ming is overly rough with his arm around joe’s neck acting like an animal or in a sleazy outfit like ep3 (😭) that it just makes you cringe more than anything else.

hi nonnie (ToT)/~~~

sameeeeeeeeee. this scene was just incredible. so for anyone that doesn't know, this is the scene from chapter 73 'Underestimating Yan Ming Xiu’s Feelings for Zhou Xiang' of Professional Body Substitute. I will leave a small excerpt with edited names for easy reading experience down here.

Joe smiled sarcastically, “Khun Ming, I am just as baffled as you. I don’t know how I could have offended P'Tong. Your FAMILY is of one mind, if you could help me figure it out, perhaps I could correct my mistakes.” When Joe mentioned ‘family,’ he especially emphasized it with a heavier tone. Ming’s expression became unsightly. He grabbed his cell phone and threw it at Joe’s face, immediately hitting Joe in his cheekbones, making it instantly swollen. Ming responded coldly, “Joe, don’t you have a bit of shame. You keep repeatedly speaking to me with this mocking sarcasm. Even if I was to spend money to raise a dog, it’ll bark nicely upon seeing me. Who do you think you are? If it wasn’t because ….. do you think you’re even worth a few yuan?” Joe caressed his face, feeling the air leaking from his voided heart. But he didn’t feel anything. He didn’t feel humiliated, let alone sadness. He felt that what Ming said is extremely right. If it wasn’t because he looked a bit like Tong, whether it was from before or in the present, how could he have the opportunity to stand in front of Ming? After such a long time, he had finally accepted this fact and was able to fully be at peace. He smiled, “What Khun Ming said is right. I admit that I am wrong. No matter what P'Tong does, he must have his reasons.” Ming raised his eyebrows deeply. The smile on Joe’s face made him feel uncomfortable, not only is it uncomfortable, it was simply glaring to the extreme. He instinctively felt that he had seen this expression before from somewhere, this expression made his heart tremble. Ming didn’t know how he could teach this person called Joe a lesson because this person is too untamed. But at the same time, there are so many commonalities between this person and “that person,” so that he is always subconsciously tolerant of him. He has repeatedly tolerated his words and even gave him the condo he had prepared for his older brother. He knew that he is not “Joe” but because there were so many overlapping details between them, it made him lose his mind. He didn’t know what he is expecting from this fake ‘Joe.’ What exactly was he expecting!! He stared at Joe coldly and ordered, “Undress.” Joe is slightly startled and then nimbly removed his clothes piece by piece. Ming press him onto the bed, separating his thighs. Then, he proceeded to brutally and fervently fuck him. The lines on Joe’s back are painfully stretched, his muscles trembled violently with Ming’s frightening rigorous speeds; sweat dripped along the sides of his cheeks onto the bed sheet. Joe clenched his teeth trying with much difficulty to suppress himself from making any sounds. The moans lodged in this throat instead became smothering sounds. The phone next to the bed suddenly rang. Joe slowly looked up and blankly glanced at it. Ming immediately pressed his head into the blanket and hoarsely shouted, “Don’t let me see your face!” Joe’s face was forced into the blanket. He hated that he couldn’t directly bury himself beneath the bed. Ming picked up the handset; his thrusting movements became a bit stagnant but he was still slowly pummeling in and out of Joe. Back and forth, his hot weapon thrusted repeatedly into Joe’s body. This strange feeling made his entire body shook.

okay so i was crazy excited for how they were gonna adapt this onscreen because for this scene to truly delivered they had to be able to retain the shame joe had to bear to hear those hurtful words from ming while showing ming is lashing out as a result of him being driven up the walls due to the similarity between joe 2.0 and joe 1.0, especially when joe 2.0 associated him and tong as 'family'.

i totally agree with the series' refusal to romanticize any of these scenes. and i think the best adaptation change has been for joe to say all these things back to ming whereas he didn't in the novel.

oh god poom's eye work in this scene was just incredible. i think i prefer this to his resigned attitude in the same scene of the novel. the series has designed joe to be more emotional and vulnerable than his novel counterpart and i think it fits in line well with the comments in the first few episodes of novel readers noting that joe seems more "innocent" and "naive" than novel!zhou xiang.

all gifs courtesy of @jimmysea

and yes as you mentioned, it doesn't feel romantic at all. and i'm sure it's completely intentional on the producers to design this scene as such so we get a remorseful ming the following morning and heightened the tension between the two characters, while building up to the reveal scene at the end of the episode.

like just how can joe 2.0 trust ming saying this when ming is seemingly the same 'guy who lashes out' in that very fight scene they had earlier.

i also like the contrast between the design of that fight scene and the scene where ming ended up not following through with sex when joe 2.0 had reminded him of joe 1.0 (see, he can make good decisions on rare occasions). it's interesting because at that point you'd think ming has changed but then just one mention of joe/tong is such a sore subject for him, as if it's a sharp reminder (from joe himself) that he (and tong) are the reason for joe's disappearance, that it triggers all ming's buttons and he's right back to square one. it's a long journey for ming to prove his love to joe and i like that the series doesn't make it an easy ride for him even if they've 'toned down' to make the characters more palatable and human.

i don't know i'm just rambling incoherently at this point, but i hope that made sense nonnie ಥ_ಥ

edit: linking this weibo post from the msi supertopic which discusses the conversation. why do i hate miscommunication but love this so much wahhhhh. also more praises for this scene here.

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Rose Under The Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc, Jake, Steven) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Angst. Angst angst angst! Mentions of childhood trauma, child abuse, self-doubt

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long guys, I've been going through... well, a lot lately and it pained me because I wanted to work on so much but I've been so emotionally-burnt out I've been struggling creatively (Yet again falling into the age-old trap of "My stuff is never as good as ___'s" that many of us struggle with)

But I'm hoping, that with this, I can start to feel a bit better!

Taglist: @bad4amficideas @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @lokisremainingsanity @mundivagantsoul @furblrwurblr @zoleea-exultant @latenightcravingz @daygirl26 @thelastemzy @leahnicole1219 @marsmallow433 @crazyunsexycool @oscarissac2099 @littlenosoul @animechick555 @capsiclesworldsblog @cloudroomblog @lov3vivian @princessakirika

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Chapter 10:

On The Wings Of An Icarus

Jake knew Layla still didn’t fully trust him, based on his propensity for violence. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if she downright hated him, and only tolerated him and spoke politely to save face, for Marc and Steven’s sake.

But, god help him if he didn’t go all out after that night; the night he noticed your soul mark. He showed no mercy on those that Khonshu dispensed him after. Layla practically had to knock him out to get him off; and if he didn’t reign in his control when he did, Marc and Steven would have known something was up. That calm, cool, and collected Jake had cracked because of something and he knew they would attempt to either front or co-front to find out what had shaken him so.

He fisted the glass in his gloved hand, reigning himself in just enough to avoid cracking it.

Three crescent moons, all connected. Each one waxing or waning depending on who was in control of their body or simply co-fronting. You said so yourself.

God, who else could that be referencing if not he, Marc, and Steven? He doubted it was just a goddamned coincidence.

It killed him that he had to keep it a secret from the two of them, but he had no choice. It hurt worse knowing that he wouldn’t be able to tell you–probably never.

You were so… so close. And so far. Like a mirage of an oasis in the desert, always on the horizon, tangible enough to see but not close enough to touch, to hold in his hands.

But… even if they couldn't approach you as their soulmate... Jake could at least let Marc and Steven have you as their friend. Maybe that would assuage the tugging he already knew that they felt.

He had to think of an excuse for if–when–they noticed your mark… Steven would most likely notice it first; he had a habit of looking anywhere else other than someone’s face when he conversed with them, picking at his oversized sleeves and keeping his eyes moving while over-informative words poured from his mouth. Marc was… less observant to such things.

But he would definitely notice if he spent more time with you (not as significantly as Steven does, but still), Marc would get comfortable, enough to let his eyes wander, to open himself up to you. After all… you were their soulmate, it was only natural to feel safe enough around the other half of your very existence, to let your guard down. It was a dangerous game Jake was betting on, being so close to you. He wanted to keep you away, to keep you safe.

But… was it so wrong they have this? Even just a friend? All the horrors they'd been subjected to, the pain, the abuse, the loss… Would it still be so bad to have you, even in that tiny capacity?

But at the same time… if Khonshu tried to use you as leverage–assuming he didn't already know about you–he wouldn't be able to contain himself if something happened under Khonshu’s supervision, as lax as it could be at times.

If someone hurt you? Fuck, he would snap.

He would fight and keep fighting until whoever it was was a bloody mass of pulp and bone fragments.

He looked into his glass of bourbon, a smoky honey flavor that tasted like it had been aged close to a decade. A bit pricey, given the pub he was at, but he needed something right now, something strong enough to numb his mounting anxiety.

His hand slid beneath his jacket to touch his shirt, his gloved fingers knotting in the crisp white fabric as he remembered the night when that human trafficker stabbed him, and he subsequently ripped the knife out.

He'd apologized to you, then, without realizing it was you he apologized to, for being so reckless.

But now that he knew... the guilt came back. How could he be so reckless? So foolhardy as to not take note of his surroundings to prevent that?

You could feel each other's pain. That realization made the abuse he and Marc–and even Steven to a degree–suffered with as a child even worse. The pain your tiny, frail body probably felt–the burns, the welts, the patches of ripped out curls…

He remembered, when he first came into existence; when it got too bad, he would front momentarily to take the worst of the injuries Wendy would inflict upon their poor young body. Marc didn't even know what was happening in the beginning, nor did Steven.

But Jake always knew.

It was like his burden, his own personal curse as the protector. He was cursed with the knowledge that he knew things he couldn't tell others, to protect everyone around him.

Marc, Steven, Layla…

And now you, it seemed.

How could he���

“Jake?” Layla asked, her hand gripping his thick forearm in her small, soft hand, her dark brows pinched upwards in concern. “You were… spacing. Looked like you were thinking about killing someone.” She added.

Jake pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, hissing between his teeth. He could feel it, Marc–or perhaps Steven–threatening to swim to the surface of their headspace to investigate the turmoil and inner upset Jake was overthinking on.

“Lo siento.” He muttered, looking at her for a moment before tipping the glass and downing the last mouthful of bourbon before continuing. “I was…”

“Thinking about her. I can tell.” She admitted, turning her barstool so she could face him, her lips pursed in a thin line.

This was difficult. With Marc and Steven, Layla always knew an approach. But with Jake, she never bothered to learn one. She didn't trust him–not fully, yet–so she never felt the need. From how she found out about him, how the other two figured out that they weren’t the only two inhabiting the body… He never really gave Layla an “in”, so to speak; to learn more and break past those emotional barriers that crumbled when she spoke to Marc or Steven. Damn him and his apparent emotional stoicism!

But seeing just how tortured she finally realized he felt… yeah, Jake did bad things on behalf of that old codger, Khonshu, but…

He carried so much weight on his own shoulders, withheld so much pain to protect others that he may as well have been Atlas, doomed to carry the world on his back for all eternity, never being able to shirk the weight like the mythological person.

It dawned on her, that night on the rooftop over your shop and flat, just how little she truly knew about Jake Lockley.

She didn't know anything she didn't want to know, even from Marc or Steven's mouth. It was just her way, after her father died and Marc fell into her life; to not ask too many questions so she could sleep just a wink better than the nights before.

Jake was violent, scary, methodical… but was he really? Or did she just paint him that way to justify her distrust over the fact Khonshu still used him as Moon Knight and used him to rope poor Marc and Steven back into the role as his Fist?

He wasn't some scary boogeyman, he was… a guy. A guy who loved his “brothers”, his friends, who protected–and loved–fiercely and with his whole being. A man now struggling with the weight of flinging himself into the very instincts so many throughout their lives craved to feel when they finally found their soulmate, or simply denying the possible bliss of being cradled in your loving arms, spending the rest of your lives together…

“Sí, it's… I'm trying to think of a way to keep Marc and Steven in the dark. Maybe if… if I just let them think of her as a friend...” He sighed.

Layla frowned. Okay that was another reason that reminded her why she didn't fully trust him, yet. The fact he was willing to hide such important things from Marc and Steven to “protect” them.

Yes, it was important to protect them, but some things are just inevitable, bound to be found out.

It's the difference between ripping off a bandage or pulling a child out of a clean room.

Pulling off the bandage, yeah, it'll hurt for a moment but it will pass.

However, if you put a child inside of a sterile bubble, the moment that bubble bursts, their immune system will be compromised and they won't be able to adjust to the changing environment around them…

“Jake… sometimes you just have to rip off the band-aid.” Layla replied. “You won't be able to hide this–hide her–from them forever.”

He wiped at his face, and made a frustrated groan. The buzz of the alcohol did little to ease his concerns. After all, once he took up the mantle tonight, his buzz would evaporate like dew beneath the summer sun. Not that London saw much of that these days.

“I know, Layla. I'm just… trying to buy time.”

“Jake… when it comes to your soulmate…” Layla said, giving him a sympathetic look.

“You don't have enough money in the world to do that. It will happen. Whether you're all ready for it or not.”

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Jake hadn't slept well that night. Marc and Steven needed a break, so they were still in the back of his mind, in the headspace, not really conscious of what Jake had been doing inside the body. They thankfully agreed to let Jake assume control, to give his headmates a much-needed break.

“Just like old times?” Layla had quipped sardonically, and, of course, Jake had to pretend the comment didn't hurt him at all. It did, but… he still didn't want her to feel bad about saying it.

Sure, he's done questionable and sometimes horrible things, but it was all for them. Marc, Steven, Layla, innocent people, and now… you.

Beautiful, sweet, oblivious you.

He'd started coming to your shop more, under the excuse that you had good coffee (which honestly you begged to differ, it was merely stuff you bought in bulk at the market) and the quiet atmosphere was more relaxing than a regular cafe; which even you agreed was rather dead. Many people didn’t stop in for a cuppa when simply buying old sci-fi novels…

Jake had even gone so far as to bring the stacks of books that Steven had been meaning to bring to you for a trade-in credit, just for another excuse to come in to see you.

It was all to keep you safe, to make sure nobody bothered you, to make sure you were doing okay.

He promised himself there was nothing less.

But even so, you were the candle flame to his moth, and he was drawn to you.

Drawn to you, but knowing if they got too close or touched you, they would burn, and there would be no going back once they did. What was that saying about flying too close to the sun?

He just… he couldn't let any of you know that he knew. As painful as it was to admit, he was already falling for you and he couldn’t bear to face it for fear of throwing caution to the wind and losing it all.

Not until today, not until he went to the market down the block, in search of something to cook for dinner. It was pouring outside, despite the forecasters saying to expect sleet. No, no, of course it wouldn't be sleet. It was just freezing cold rain. Rain that felt like tiny frozen icicles hitting his skin in fat droplets.

He shook his jacket, the droplets falling from the leather and onto the large carpet beneath his feet at the entrance. After that, Jake pulled his cap back up and nodded politely to the greeter and proceeded his way inside. He was craving something, but wasn’t sure what. Something with a little kick, something with meat. So, undecided on what in particular he wanted to eat, he settled for wandering the aisles, randomly picking up items here and there, pretending to read the labels until he made up his fractured mind.

“Jake? Jake Lockley?”

His head whipped up so quickly he almost felt his vertebrae snap when he lifted his eyes to meet yours, innocent and twinkling as you appeared so sure of your guess. You were instinctively right, of course, but the inner jokester within him was tempted to fake Marc’s voice to mess with you.

He shoved his hands into his jeans–mostly to conceal how badly they were shaking–and tossed you what he hoped was a charming, convincing smirk, “Ah. Caught me red-handed, Rosa. How’d you guess?”

“Well, aside from the fact you’re wearing your trademarked hat and jacket…” You playfully tapped your nose and winked at him. “...You look like you just caught a whiff of–and stepped in--horse shit.”

Jake couldn’t suppress himself, chuckling and shaking his head, “That’s a… unique way of putting it.”

“I’m full of surprises!” You beamed proudly, “So, what’re you here for? I don’t think I’ve bumped into you here, before!”

“Ah, I’m here to… well, find something to eat. Or well, more accurately, something to cook to eat.” He sighed and tipped his head. “I might just buy a frozen dinner and call it a night.”

The offended gasp his comment elicited from you made butterflies flitter about in his belly. He felt like a teenager talking to the popular girl he had a crush on in school.

“Oh no you will not! So many of those have awful preservatives and just aren’t healthy for you!” You tut, reminding him so much of Steven. He couldn’t hold back his smile as you ranted and spoke about healthy eating habits, honestly reminding him of Steven in this moment.

His attention began to wonder as he took in every bit of your face–every blemish or thing you may consider yourself to be an imperfection, tracing every dip and contour of your cheeks, nose, and the slope of your jaw…

“You know what–” You huffed, the hand that wasn’t holding your basket firmly planted on your hip. “No. Why don’t you come have dinner with me? The thought of you making something like some yucky frozen meatloaf is just… blegh.”

Jake felt his brain record-scratch, finally being pulled out of his admiring stupor. “I–what? Oh, no, no, I don’t think that…” He floundered.

Him! The Jake Lockley, left without a quip to be uttered!

“Nah.” You say, walking past him. “I'm making you dinner. C’mon, I’ll need help grabbing stuff.”

On sheer instinct, he followed you like an obedient puppy. “Look, uh, I…”

“Not takin’ no for an answer, Lockley. Now, c’mon!”

The man was hopeless. All he could do was admire your figure and personality once again. Sweet, gentle–but also fiery and bull-headed when it suited you.

Jake fished his phone out of his pocket and pulled up Layla’s number, texting;

“Order something out for dinner, La-La… It looks like I have plans.”

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Chapter 11: Link

[wenigstenshabeichesversucht]

Drinks and kisses

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Summary: Four times you drunkenly confessed your love to Lockwood and one time you did it sober.

Warnings: alcohol consumption (OC is not an alcoholic, she just can't tolerate alcohol), English is not my native language

Word Count: 2,6k

For the story I used some of the Drunken Love Confessions from @creativepromptsforwriting, please check out her blog

Living the life of an agent aka child solider was most of the time gruesome. After dusk as the adults hid behind silver fences and thick walls, you and the other kids dared to venture into the dark night to fight against ghosts. Every agent knew another who had died on a mission. Life was pretty depressing if you didn’t take it in your own hands to enjoy it. Therefore, at Lockwood and Co., you celebrated every so little milestone and achievement. While Lockwood, your boss, landlord and crush, and George sometimes drank beer, you only drank alcohol at you little celebrations. To say that you could handle your liquor, was an exaggerated lie.

The first time you told Lockwood, that you liked him more than a friend was at one of this so-called parties. Lockwood and Co. had just finished a big case. That was reason enough to get together and drink.

It was already late that night, the song on the radio floated through the room and Kipps was asleep on the couch. Lucy was nowhere to be seen and George and Holly were in one corner of the living room lively talking about cooking.

However, you only had eyes for Lockwood sitting in his favourite armchair. His hair was shining so nicely, and you really wanted to touch it. Would it feel under your fingers as soft as it looked? That thought should have been warning enough that you were drunk. But drunk-you wasn’t smart and neither discreet with your staring. Everybody who took one second to watch you with Lockwood, would realize that you liked him. Thank God Lockwood was an even bigger idiot than you.

“What are you thinking about, sweets?”, broke Lockwood the silence between you two and normally, caught in your staring, you would have looked away. But normal-you and drunk-you were two totally different persons. Drunk-you was loud and bold, while normal-you shied away.

“About you”, you declared honest, and sober you would have never said something like this. However, drunk you didn’t even blush.

“About me?”, echoed Lockwood confused and reminded you by doing so of a puppy. You loved puppies.

“You’re cute. And a bit blurry. But definitely always so cute.” The words just tumbled out of your mouth. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't have been able to stop them. But drunk-you didn’t know something like regret. Before Lockwood could say anything, you took a page out of Kipps books and just felt asleep.

The next morning you had no memory about what you said. At breakfast Lockwood acted like always except his ears turned a little red when you asked him for the butter. But you were too hungover to pay attention.             

The second time happened at Lucy’s birthday party. The birthday girl and you were dancing in the middle of the living room, downing one shot after the other. You intentionally ignored Lockwood, who warned you to slow down. Maybe that was a mistake. Or the five tequila shots were a mistake. Or both were a mistake.

Anyway, one moment you were dancing with Lucy, having the best time of your life and in the next moment you felt awful. Pressing your hand over your mouth you made a beeline for the next bathroom. You barely made it to the toilet before you threw up.

Hurrying footsteps sounded behind you and then someone held your hair back. With a small whimper you puked again.

“Just let it out then you’ll feel better”, he whispered softly while he caressed your back. Sober-you would probably have sunk into the floor in shame. But hanging over the toilet bowl you were too drunk to care.

You didn’t know how long you puked your soul out of your body. Lockwood had taken a seat on the floor behind you and didn’t stop rubbing your back.

“Can you keep a secret?”, you slurred and rested your head against his shoulder. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him nodding.

“I have a crush on Lockwood, but you can’t tell him or anybody else.” He laughed, and you could feel the vibration of his chest.

“I would love to hear those words in any other place than this bathroom, holding your hair back.”

“But you can’t tell him or anybody else”, you repeated urgent. You couldn’t imagine that Lockwood liked you back, and you didn’t want to make the atmosphere in the house awkward. Therefore, Lockwood was never allowed to know how you felt about him.

“I swear, let’s get you cleaned up and in your bed, sweets.” Fishing a washcloth from the sink, he gently wiped your face. Then he scoped you up in his arms and started carrying to your room.

The third time: Bright giggles echoed across the attic.

“No-no-no it wasn’t like this”, Lucy laughed while taking another sip from the vodka.

You just returned from your case to a waiting Norrie. Norrie was Lucy’s girlfriend and was visiting her in London. As you had stumbled through the front door, Norrie had already handed you a bottle of vodka. Now sitting in the attic, you slowly nursed the alcohol.

“And how did it go in your opinion?”, asked Norrie, who was telling an embarrassing story about the time Lucy and her had still worked in the northern part of Great Britain.

“First it wasn’t so embarrassing how you make it sound.”

“Sure”, you butted in as you and Norrie shared a meaningful glance.

“Don’t join forces against me”, Lucy demanded, not blind to your actions.

“We would never!”, giving her an appeasing kiss, Norrie took the bottle from Lucy.

“Why does it feel like you’re lying to me?” maybe a little bit paranoid, maybe appropriately paranoid, Lucy raised one eyebrow. You meanwhile tried to look as innocent as possible. Of course, you would join forces with your best friend’s girlfriend against said best friend. Where else was the fun?

Seeing through your innocent act, Lucy pointed accusing her finger at you. “As punishment you have to get the snacks from downstairs.”

Rolling your eyes, you stole the bottle out of Norrie’s grip and took a big sip. Leave it to Lucy to find an excuse to not go down all the stairs. But it was OK, as long George and Lockwood were still not home from their case. If George caught you stealing the snacks, he would demand that Lockwood would revoke your biscuits rights. So, there was a big risk associated with getting the snacks. Was it a risk worth taking? Drunk-you said yes.

“I will be right back”, with a wink to the girls, you picked yourself up.

You noticed immediately that you were drunker, than you had thought. Your steps were a little wobbly and the world was turning more than usually. But you lived more than two years in this house. You knew which floorboard creaked and how many steps each of the stairs had. With your eyes closed, you would find your way from the attic down to the kitchen. So being drunk shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

You should be right for most of the way. You already reached the last stairs down to the kitchen without tripping over your own feet, when the front door flew open, and Lockwood and George came clattering in. Normally you weren’t easily startled. You were an agent for gods’ sake. But you were drunk and hadn't expected their loud arrival.

You weren’t sure who was more surprised. You, who lost your footing and tumbled down the stairs, or Lockwood, who was standing at the bottom of said stairs. At least he wasn’t drunk and therefore had quicker reflexes than you. Instead of stepping aside and leaving you to your fate, he caught you. For a moment nobody said something, there was only a shocked silence between you.

“I think I just fell in love with you”, you drunkenly joked.

“No, you fell down the stairs. You should really learn to hold your liquor, sweets”, Lockwood told you stern, without letting go of you. But you saw the creeping blush appear on his face.

“I get her a glass of water”, clearing awkwardly his throat, George rushed to the kitchen.

“You drive me out of my mind, sweets”, whispered Lockwood against your hair, but you were too busy getting lost in his scent. He smelled of lavender and bergamot. Your favourite smell in the whole world.

The fourth time you told Lockwood, that you loved him you were drunk, shocking you know.

You just came home from evening with your old friends from Rothwell and as always, you easily became too drunk.

Usually when someone of the team went out after dark, Lockwood waited for them to come home. This time was no different.

As you drunkenly stumbled out of the night cab, Lockwood was already opening the front door.

“Hi handsome”, you greeted him without shame.

“You’re drunk”, he blandly stated, but his eyes were sparkling like someone stole the stars from the sky and hide them there. He had beautiful eyes. You could spend hours gazing in his eyes.

“Yes”, you admitted before a wide grin took over your face, “and hopelessly in love with you!”

Pushing past him, you stumbled into the hallway. Behind you, you could hear Lockwood taking a surprise inhale. However, you were already busy with your next task, taking off your shoes without falling over.

“Say that again after two coffees at least and I will be yours”, he whispered barely for you to hear.

Then he rushed to you, “Sweets, let me help.”

Getting on his knees he carefully unclasped your shoes. Where his hands touched your bare skin, it felt like you were burning.

“We should get you some water.” That sounded like a really good idea. Allowing Lockwood to take your hand, you let him pull you into the kitchen.

“I hoped you had a great evening”, he carefully led you to your chair before he went to the sink and got you a glass of water.

“It was sooo great, only you were missing!”

“Maybe then I join next time”, Lockwood mused taking a seat in front of you.

“You should, my friends really want to meet the person, who stole me away from Rothwell.”

“And I would steal you again, sweets. A shame that you will not remember this talk tomorrow.”

The one time you told him what you felt while being sober:

It had been a nerve-wracking case. You felt like a wrack when you finally reached Portland Row. Everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong, and you were lucky that all four of you were still alive. Stressed you all went separated ways. While Lucy rushed to the attic, you scored the first shower to remove the remains of salt and sweat that stuck to you like a second skin.

When you return to the kitchen after the shower to get a glass of water, you expected to find it deserted. After a case like this the team usually retreated to each of their own room to lick their metaphorical wounds in peace. You were no exception. Therefore, you were even more surprised when you saw the light shining from under the closed kitchen door.

Not bothering to knock you entered the room, to see Lockwood sitting at the kitchen table, in front of him the open first aid kit. His dress shirt was unbuttoned, and you couldn’t help gaping. Slowly blood was seeping out of a large wound, you didn’t know about. Caught, he looked up when you entered.

“That’s not what it’s looked like.”

“So, you didn't hide from us that you were injured?”

Not waiting for his answer, you could lie to yourself, you pressed a compress on his wound to stop the bleeding. As reaction Lockwood just took a sharp inhale and a little part of you were glad, that it hurt.

“We are a team; we can’t help you if you don’t let us”, you started to lecture him. But as Lockwood looked down ashamed your anger vanished into thin air. You couldn’t stay mad at him for long.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I will always worry about you”, you paused for a moment, not sure if you should really say what just popped up in your mind. But then you gathered all your courage and did it, “I will always worry about you because I love you.”

Your heart was beating like crazy, while you waited for a response. But now it was out and nothing you could do could undo it. That was somehow liberating.

“I know.”

On the list of the worst reactions after a declaration of love, “I know” was at the top. You didn't know whether to cry or to scream. However, in the end you couldn't do either. You could just stare at him while your mouth dropped open.

“You know?”, you echoed and could feel how something in your chest broke into two parts. He knew that you loved him and never said something. That could only mean one thing, he didn’t feel the same way you did. Shame slowly crept into your face.

“You already told me one, two, or maybe four times”, Lockwood explained to you and if it were up to you, he would have simply remained silent. He didn't have to try to reject you nicely, what he said was already enough for you. Standing up so quickly that your chair flew over, you tried to escape from the kitchen, but grasping your wrist, he stopped you.

“You already told me, that you love me, but there was never a good moment to reveal to you, that I love you too.” In total disbelief you gasped at him. He must be joking. Couldn’t he have told you this sooner instead of sending you on this rollercoaster of emotions?

“You love me too?”, you echoed and slowly started to feel like a parrot.

“Yes, I love you, sweets.”

“Why couldn't you say that right away?” Technically, you should be floating from happiness that he reciprocated your feelings. But you were just angry. Before Lockwood could answer you, you continued, “and when did I tell you that I love you before?” No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't remember it.

“You told me this four times when you were really drunk.”

“And you never thought to talk to me about it the next day?” Flabbergasted you shook your head. You just couldn’t believe it.

“I wasn’t sure if you really meant it and I didn’t want to embarrass you either.”

Up in the hallway, George discreetly listened to the loud voices.

“Didn’t she just tell him that she loves him?”, Lucy asked, also attracted by the noise.

“Yes.”

“But why are they yelling? Shouldn’t they be kissing or something like that?”, confused Lucy wrinkled her nose. Taking his eyes off the closed kitchen door, George looked at her.

“In response to her confession he said, “I know””

“What an idiot!”

“But an idiot in love, it seems.”

Back in the kitchen your chest rose and fell angrily. Still, you couldn’t believe that he had been aware that you liked him, and never acted on it while also being in love with you.

“You are an idiot, Anthony Lockwood.”

The biggest idiot you knew.

“But hopefully your idiot?”

Instead of answering, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, softly at first but with growing intensity. When you separated you felt dizzy.

“Yes, you are my idiot.”

[cat3ch1sm]

🕸️~ hi, guys! im back with part 2 of my latest writing. sorry for being gone, and happy april! hope spring is treating you all well. in really enjoying seeing all the flowers in bloom. if you couldn’t tell already, nature is my favorite thing in the world<33 without further ado, let’s get into it. enjoy, ily <33

🌲~ fem!reader, nsfw ahead, oral sex, mentions of overstim+markings

𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐞𝐚𝐭 🐱? 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚, 𝐲𝐮𝐮𝐭𝐚

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

to be honest, i can’t think of anything this man wouldn’t do when it comes to sexual shit. regardless, he wont just give you what you want- he’ll make you beg for it and just tease you until you’re ready to cry, both with his mouth and his words. “aw, does that feel good, sweetheart? can’t get any words out for me? you’re always so sensitive, aren’t you?” his arrogance makes its way into literally everything he does- he wants you to be desperate for him.

𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢

i think kento likes to use his mouth often because it’s more gentle than straight up sex. he isn’t really the type to overstimulate you or make you beg, like gojo. his aim is to please you and he’ll do just that. he might tease you ever so slightly, but it’s rare. he spends a lot of time on your pleasure centers and knows exactly how to move his tongue to get you to finish. kento also has no shame in kissing you after you come so you can taste yourself on him, telling you how well you did and how much you deserve his cock.

𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

will eat that shit like it’s his last meal. bro. he has zero issue marking up the insides of your thighs with hickeys and bite marks. however, toji is at least a little careful not to hurt you or break skin. toji will abuse the shit out of your clit and definitely fingers you while taking you in his mouth. he also makes eye contact the whole time just to fluster you. however, he doesn’t let you finish- he would rather save that for when he penetrates you. all of the other stuff was just prep, and believe me, you’ll need it😭

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨

he’ll eat you out only when he wants to. if you’re in that mood but he isn’t, that’s just a shame. if he’s in that mood and you aren’t, well, obviously geto won’t force you to do anything, but don’t expect him to not badger you about it at least a little- but not too much. when he does, it’s for his own pleasure, and he’ll do it for as long as he pleases. if geto has had a trying day, expect to be very overstimulated and exhausted by the time he’s come home and the night’s over.

𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

same as geto- eats you out when he wants, for his own enjoyment., and for as long as he pleases. sukuna has no issue leaving you unsatisfied or holding your legs open and eating you out until you physically cannot come anymore. you’ll find that it’s mostly the latter, though. he’s worse than toji when it comes to leaving marks- your inner thighs will be covered in bites that probably will have broken the skin in several places and bruises. sukuna doesn’t tolerate any squirming or struggling, either, when he overstimulates you- he’ll just tighten his grip and go even harder. he also degrades you a lot, which should have been expected because it’s literally sukuna. “oh, are your legs shaking already? i’ve barely even started, you pathetic slut.” or “keep your whiny ass still while i ravage your cunt, whore.”

𝐲𝐮𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐨𝐤𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮

yuuta i imagine is fairly inexperienced in a lot of sexual things. still, he wants to please you so badly and is willing to learn everything about your body to pleasure you. you’ll probably have to direct him the first time or two, but then everything should be good. he’s so cute when he looks up and asks, “is this the right spot?” “am i doing okay?” “does this feel good for you?” anyways i love him

[lavenderchqn]

𝐶𝛨𝛢𝑃𝑇𝛦𝑅 𝟎𝟏𝟐 — GENESIS - PT. 1 (1,4K WORDS) 𝑅𝐸𝐷 𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑆 — lyney x f!reader smau

𝑆𝑌𝑁𝑂𝑃𝑆𝐼𝑆 —

Second year of university should've been everything you thought of it - more studying with human interaction sprinkled throught... What it definitely wasn't supposed to be was an investigation saga where one of your friends goes missing out of nowhere

𝑃𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆 — 𝑀𝐴𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇 — 𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇 𝐸𝑃𝐼𝑆𝑂𝐷𝐸 CONTENT WARNING: ALCOHOL

The evening passes in a whirlwind of laughter, clinking glasses and occasional sounds of some guests almost losing their balance. The energy in the room had been electric, with everyone gathered in front of the TV, watching the recording Furina managed to get. With the quality of [Y/N]’s camera, the video’s quality is stunning.

“You did such a good job capturing the performance!” Navia says, her face next to Furina’s. 

“Thank you!” She smiles, sparkles of excitement in her eyes. “I’m quite shocked at how good it looks!” 

“That’s a good camera for you~” Charlotte remarks, sipping her drink.  

As soon as the screening ends, the room gets filled with ovations. Everyone’s clapping and commenting on the siblings’ performance.

“Oh, stop it you guys—“ Lyney’s covering his face with his hands. It’s red, from both embarrassment and the alcohol in his body. 

His glass has been getting filled almost the entire evening. No matter how many times Furina or Wriothesley tried to argue with him to lower his alcohol intake, they got brushed off each and every time. 

“Good job out there, you two!” Wriothesley pats Lyney on his shoulder. “Shame you didn’t fall on your face, Lyney.”

“Oh, fuck you.” The teasing gets cut short with an elbow jab into Wriothesley’s chest. 

“I really liked it,” [Y/N] perks up. “Both the execution and aesthetic of it was spectacular.” 

“You can tell that the two of you have put immense care into this project,” Neuvillette adds. 

“I know we’re all excited about the thing… but no more mentions of projects please…” Charlotte’s meek voice says, tired with the week’s adrenaline ending. “Just... let’s not mention the word ‘project’ at all.” 

She's sitting right next to the open door to the back garden. Since getting to the party, she’s been nursing her glass. She didn’t have as much compared to the man of the evening, and yet she was getting a little bit drunk already. From the entirety of the Table Troupe Cuties group, her past week had been most challenging by a large margin. 

“Just… don’t spend your next finals’ prep on stalking twitter…” Lynette sighs, patting her back. 

“But the masses need to knowwww…

When her words start slurring together, it’s decided that Charlotte gets cut off for the rest of the night. By the time the toast comes, she’s forced to cheer with a glass of water.

She’s matching Neuvillette, who jokingly talks about needing to prosper on his housewarming gift from when he visited the sibling’s house for the first time. He’s keeping his tradition of having very little alcohol whenever being a guest. 

Lynette and Clorinde opt to have non-alcoholic wine, knowing they’re willingly volunteering to be caretakers for the rest of the group.  For the most part, that's going to be an easy job… with a few exceptions. At the very least, they don’t have to worry about [Y/N], Navia or Wriothesley, who manage their alcohol intake quite well… 

Either that or their tolerance is quite strong. 

The same can’t be said about another person.

A few minutes after the toast, Furina fell asleep after having a singular drink. She’s taking a nap in one of the chairs, her position curled almost like a kitten. Her sudden quietness doesn’t go unnoticed by others. 

“Gotta get her somewhere… comfy…” Lyney stumbles in her direction, stubbing his toe on the coffee table. “— Fucking hell…”

“Alright, you’re also getting cut off,” Wriothesley says coldly, gently moving him away from the sleeping girl. “Go home. You’re drunk.” 

“I’m home, you… dick.” 

With guidance from Lynette, the taller man moves Furina to a more comfortable spot to get her rest. At least she won’t complain about back pains once the morning comes.  

Lynette mentions she’s also gonna retire to bed, justifying her choice by her social battery getting low. Nobody has it against her — the performance must’ve taken quite a toll on her body. The group wishes her good night as she leaves the room. 

Charlotte follows Furina soon after, complaining about getting a headache… Unfortunately, nobody can get Lyney to take a nap of his own. He’s seemingly getting more and more energy with each and every drink he’s having. His behaviour makes him look like a tiny puppy excited by having company rather than a grown man slowly entering his 3rd year of university. 

“Does he always get like that?” Navia asks, swirling water inside her glass. At some point in the night, she switched her drink of choice to not get unnecessarily drunk and hungover.

“Like a five-year-old that just got his ass grounded?” Wriothesley counter-asks, taking a sip of his own drink. “Hard to say, to be honest.” 

“I’m unsure what you mean by ‘hard to say’, Wriothesley.” Neuvillette comments. “Lyney always has a hard time managing his alcohol intake whenever in the company of new people.” 

Now that [Y/N] thinks about it, it does make a lot of sense. People of similar personality to his often have the tendency to go overboard. Well, it’s not like she has a psychology degree to make those statements. They are much better kept as a thought to herself. 

All of a sudden, Lyney goes quiet. He takes a seat next to Neuvillette, spacing out. Perhaps his body finally decided to give him a break? 

“I don’t know if we should be talking about him… especially when he’s right here with us.” [Y/N] points out, her voice laced with guilt. 

“Should be fine,” Wriothesley takes a good look at Lyney. “Although he’s here with us in body, his soul is probably off somewhere in dreamland…” 

“I think it’s a good time we head to sleep,” Clorinde states, yawning a little. “I’d rather not be barely alive once the morning comes.” 

With that, the nightly discussion comes to an end. 

Neuvillette and Wriothesley help Lyney get to bed and wish the ladies good night. 

By the time [Y/N] gets up, the air feels different. A thunderstorm must’ve happened at night since the air had a note of sulfur and noticing the streets covered in puddles. 

Judging by the time on her phone — indicating a lovely 7 am — not many people have awoken from their slumber yet. The house feels quite empty… weirdly so. Charlotte and Navia are still asleep in the room they’ve all graciously stayed at. 

Maybe Clorinde and Lynette are already up? 

She decides to head down to the kitchen to hopefully find another awoken soul. The closer she gets there, the more noises she hears.

From what [Y/N] can gather, it's some idle chatter about Furina's plans for getting her apartment clear.

"I can't wait to get my pillows clean!" The short girl exclaims. "Due to uni, I haven't had the time to wash them last month." 

"ehhh?" A slurred voice of Lyney's comments. "Do you have to wash... your pillows that often?" 

"Should happen at least twice a year. C'mon, don't tell me you don't wash your sheets." 

An outburst of annoyed cries comes from the short male. "What did you flick my forehead for?!" 

"Wriothesley's justified." 

"Not you too, Neuvi!" 

Soon enough, she's standing at the doorway to the room. 

“Good morning, [Y/N]!” Furina greets her as soon as she notices [Y/N] enter. “Did you sleep well?” 

“Surprisingly, yeah.” 

There’s no sight of either Clorinde or Lynette in here. There are only members of the Beverage Gang here… although it’s debatable if Lyney counts as present.

“I’m so fucking jealous of you…” He whines over his cup of black coffee, hungover out of his mind. He doesn’t even have the energy to look at [Y/N], keeping his forehead against the table. 

On the other hand, Neuvillette and Wriothesley look better than ever. They’re helping Furina prepare the breakfast. They’ve already cooked some eggs and got bread and pastries on the plates.

Soon enough, Clorinde also gets to her kitchen — her wet hair explaining her absence. They quietly greet each other, both finding a place to sit. 

A cup of tea gets passed to the girls alongside some breakfast foods… And yet, [Y/N] isn't able to get anything into her system. Her body clearly states that something is wrong. She’s unable to figure out why she’s feeling like that. 

Minutes spent sitting there feel like hours. Perhaps her... unexplainable instincts are simply effects of paranoia? Charlotte and her investigative work must've rubbed off on her. 

“Has anyone seen Lynette today?” She asks, looking around the room. 

𝑇𝐴𝐺𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇 — OPEN

@state-of-grac3 @santaluna @meigalaxy @romyoia

@meurtreofcrows @charles-braindump @floweringanna @moonjellyfishie @vavrin

date of posting — august 24th 2024

[suhjihanma]

☩ 𝕻𝖊𝖈𝖚𝖑𝖎𝖆𝖗 𝕹𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖗 ☩

☩ Kink: Blood play ☩ Word Count: 1,149 words ☩ Pairing: Sukuna / Female!Reader ☩ Content Warning: Monster formation Sukuna, mentions of blood, slight mentions of possible death and dying, mind break, bodily fluids, human degradation, bruising, scaring, torturing. ☩ Author's Note: My first debut within kinktober. This is an ongoing compilation of stories written once a day. As I continue to post stories for kinktober, please note that I will ban minors who interact with my series or other stories apart from this project. Also, kink shaming is not tolerated within my fics. If the kinks that I write are not for you, please do not come with hostility in my inbox. Just simply ignore them. And, for those who are just morbidly curious about dark kinks or just love the smutty, dark content, I appreciate you guys for liking and reblogging. Reblogging helps me out tremendously as a fairly new writer for the anime fandom. Other than that, I hope you all will enjoy the daily content. I will be placing my fics on AO3 soon. I created this first story on Sunday morning.

The faint shrills of your voice were now engulfed with the soaked cloth that was around your lips. You now believe being spared was a foreign concept. How someone could leave you in a position so vulnerable that it made you fall to your knees was baffling. Humorous at best. 

Who wouldn't say that lady luck strives for you to be pleading with tears coming down your face?

A stranger to the dark-lit room that reeked with the odor of bodily fluids, your body sat aimlessly on the floor, with teardrops and mucous secretion mixed in with several droplets of blood now running along with a stream that flows steadily to your arms. You have been taught modesty, yet showing yourself nude among a man who would not give a damn about your condition seemed hopeless. Frankly, you lusted for the attention of wanting to be studied at beyond covered clothing. The eyes of a man who gazes upon a woman like yourself, to “undress” you with his eyes or some of the cliched sorts. A man like Sukuna would definitely be the one who would give you the favor. 

Especially for a woman who is decorating among bruises, welts, alongside scars.

Reality now became intertwined with hallucinations as you desperately reached for whoever’s hand. A hand that will possibly guide you among distorted illusions, or a hand that will hinder your senses towards insanity. Both options are similar causes, yet these causes are the factors for your sudden blood loss. The eyelids that were once filled with life suddenly became too heavy to bear. Exhaustion was beginning to weigh on you as you desperately called out the name that harbored fear yet of whorish passion. The amount of blood loss that you endured now was hindering your mental state. You wondered how you were still presenting yourself to this man above you, a man that only looked at you and smiled cruelly. Sukuna continued to gaze his eyes around your body, a body that was reaching its limits and now succumbs to more than torture. 

“You look like you had enough.” Sukuna jeered, his fingers slowly hovering over the pool of blood that formed over your thighs. Before, his hands caressed the top, savoring the warm skin before all became lost. His fingertips reach for the pool and the shade becomes decorated with his tips. Shades of blood were slowly beginning to turn dark as he brought one of the coated fingers to his lips, savoring the metallic taste that coated his tongue. Tiresome as it was, reacting would gain nothing from your situation. You were helpless in Sukuna’s domain. Escaping would be more than less futile in your stance. All your tired eyes could do was watch, and the body that was slowly succumbing to shock was close to giving up. His laughter and excitement made you rage inside your living hell, yet this living hell was real proof. Then again, his giddiness excites something inside you. Playing with your essence in his fingertips was truly something a man like him can toy with. Humans are descriptive as slaves, peasants, low-lives, everything at the bottom. Sukuna reminding you of your place as you bleed your life essence for him seemed appealing. A lifeless slave that you were, you couldn’t help but to whimper at his mockery.

“Please.” You whined, thighs squirming in the cold blood that sat across your legs. Exhaustion was soon to form over as you lowered your head. Sukuna looked over your falsified bow from the exhaustion and his eyes perked up, now dilated from your heightened erotic stance. 

Please, what?” He questions you. The soft pants that came from your cloth steadily continue as he looks at you with piqued interest. As he continues to look over your greatly bruised body, he smiles to himself before licking one of the open wounds that became exposed on your shoulder blade. Your face begins to tighten as Sukuna continues to entrance his tongue on the opened entrance. Pain engulfed your body as you helplessly whined out in agony before succumbing again to exhaustion. A laughter rolled out from Sukuna as he continued to shoot every weakened nerve in your body, desperately wanting you to fall further into his hellish embrace. Beyond overcoming mental break, your body could only take so much as you fell into a deep slumber, one where a voice that lingered nothing but sultriness ringer through your ears. 

“Develop a false intimacy with you? Fuck you in this pitiful pool of blood of yours? Surely that will bond us together, but it seems like you are already there.”

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Hi!! I’d like a fandom ship/matchup pretty please! Someone from tcm (preferably from the first or second movie) or scream.

Appearance: 5’6, chubby and curvy girl. Shorter brown, fluffy, curly hair with teal tips. Blue/grey eyes, eyebrow piercing and nose stud. I’m somewhat strong and I dress somewhere along the lines of goth and grunge. I wear black eye makeup, mascara, and heavy eyeliner on the daily with the occasional black lipstick.

Personality: I love music, horror movies, coffee, and collecting little trinkets. I have quite a lot of foul language in my vocabulary. I tend to be both really sweet and a bitch depending on how the person I’m interacting with is acting towards me. I love/crave attention, with musical theater being a very common hobby. I’m usually very outgoing, trying to get others into my special interests, rambling about things, or cracking jokes, though sometimes I burn out and just utterly crash. I’m almost always willing to jump up and help anyone with anything they might need. I have really bad anxiety about certain things. I’m very clingy, and tend to prefer protective and stronger men, though I do appreciate time to myself. (I wanna be manhandled.)

Hobbies: Musical theater, choir, drumming, painting, drawing (mainly people), and watching movies or documentaries!!

I hope that’s enough info, have a great day/night and don’t forget to drink water 🖤

Thank you pookie 😊

Your Fandom Ship: Nubbins Sawyer!

Explanation: starting off looks he absolutely loves the way that you appear and your body and I also feel like if anyone tried to fat shame you or anything like that he would definitely torture them for hours. He would actually ask them if they think you’re attractive and if they said no, they would get tortured for hours. That makes it feel like he’s a little bit more in control and I feel like I don’t know that just makes him a little bit happier but he’s fully willing to let you have control of course but you know I just feel like it would be something cute for him because he feel like he can wrap himself around you at any point in time. He’s actually very tall canonly, I think 6’2. He loves your eyebrow piercing and thinks it’s really cool and you’re one of the coolest people he’s ever met. He definitely loves the way that you dress and he doesn’t have much of a sense of fashioned himself in one time he tried to copy your make up and it didn’t end well but anyway, I just think that he would love the way that you dress and he’s honestly in love with alternative people in general and just he sees you as his alt queen. he also loves collecting little trinkets, and if he ever found anything cool while he was searching for roadkill, he would definitely give it to you. You shouldn’t try to make him get coffee or coffee because he would absolutely not be able to do that. You would send him off be like hey can you make some coffee for me? You would hear a loud crash in the kitchen and then he would come back with like coffee beans in a cup of water. He would come to all your shows for a theater, and if anyone that wasn’t you got the lead you would have to like convince him not to try and kill them. Your personality of being outgoing would definitely clash with his bit and I think that would be great because you could get him to talk to more people and be a little bit less unhinged and he also appreciates how sweet and caring you are to him because it’s not something he’s ever really gone his life sometimes he doesn’t even feel like his own family cares. He’s also very clingy and despite being kind of tolerant lanky, he’s actually extremely strong from caring roadkill and doing a lot of farm work growing up so he could absolutely manhandle you if you wanted, but I personally feel like he’d be preferred to be like held, but he would wrap himself around you and he is like probably the clingyest out of the entire family. ANYWAY I ship

❤️❤️❤️

[multi-fandomsfreak]

Maybe ya could do Xenophanes with a reader who can't feel pain

Xenophanes with a reader who can’t feel pain

Not going to lie I think this is one of my favourite requests that I’ve gotten so far. Besides the Amy one. I felt like I had so much to write about our favourite crystallised hedgehog. Also, correct me if I’m wrong but I think this is an actual condition not sure what it’s called though. Anyways let’s get on with this. ~Blaze/Dawn

Pronouns: Not Mentioned

Warning: ⚠️Torture/Mentions Of Being Torture + Violence + Harm Done To Reader + Xeno Being Sadistic⚠️️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Xenophane

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art by ash011037 on Pinterest + Banner by triviastar on Pinterest

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- Not going to lie knowing how xeno is he’s probably going to be a combination of pissed, excited and intrigued all at the same time. Obviously he’s intrigued. He's never had a victim who can’t feel pain like sure on the rare occasion he had some that have high pain tolerance but overall were still able to feel some sort of pain but you're very different compared to them. On the other hand he’s also kind of pissed off because no matter what harm he does to you whether it’s tearing your body apart, ripping your skin off of you or something as simple as breaking one or multiple bones you won’t feel it but at the same time he’s sort of excited because he can do whatever he wants to you. He could let out his anger onto you because he’ll know you won’t feel it. However, despite knowing this he will try his best to find out what will cause you to feel pain much to his annoyance that he couldn't. He's not going to give up easily.

- As mentioned before despite his annoyance that he’ll have to find other ways to torture you mostly mentally/emotionally since pain doesn’t effect you he is generally curious on how you discovered it. I mean who knows what might have happened to you for someone to recognise that you can’t feel pain. You could be in some seriously dangerous situation and you would’ve been fine mentally of course definitely not physically. If he has to be honest that actually excites him in a way as he thought about the million different situations you’ve possibly been in. It doesn’t excite him in a sexual way of course but still with xeno being a sadistic person of course he couldn’t help but be slightly giddy to himself. If he is feeling curious and maybe generous enough he may take a break from hurting you to ask how you discovered what he considers a ‘phenomenal’ feature. He considers you to be very special and one of his most interesting victims.

- I can imagine xeno being very goddamn surprised when he first discovered that you react very differently to pain compared to other people who were screaming bloody murder from the harm being done to them but when he was finally able to catch you like all the other pathetic mortals he was getting ready for the best part the one he always looks forward to:

+ “aw what a shame it looks like you’ve lost” xenophane said in his usual cocky attitude as he pulled you towards him forcibly grabbing you by the neck as tight he was able to get it. Although you couldn’t feel the tightness of xenophanes grip, just having his hand around his throat combined with his cocky attitude made you just as uncomfortable and scared as if you were feeling the pain. “I wonder what I could do to make you scream.” A smirk then appeared on Xenophane's face as he dragged his claws over your stomach, scraping you before immediately digging it into you causing a small wound to appear. However, he noticed a lack of reaction to it with the only sign of emotion being the fear radiating off of you as you shut your eyes from anticipation. He then thought that you must have a high pain tolerance, however even if you had that you would’ve noticed the slight pain to which he tried to try it again but unfortunately for him it didn’t work.

+ There was some silence between you and xeno before he spoke up, very confused yet slightly irritated, thinking you're trying to make fun of him “why aren’t you screaming?” He asked as you opened your eyes confused on what he was talking about “huh…what do you mean?” That was the only thing you were able to say “don’t play dumb [USER]!” He raised his voice getting angered at your lack of awareness “I am literally damaging your body and you're not reacting” you still had a look of confusion before looking down to see the wounds “oh you did?” Your response only confused yet angered the hedgehog more “what kind of response is that?” You stayed silent for a moment as you saw your tormentor getting angrier before you decided to speak up about how you couldn’t feel pain.

- Now that Xeno has met you I have a feeling he’s going to have a lot of pride over you. He’s never had a victim like you and although he may treat you like a test dummy trying everything and anything to know what can break you, at the same time he treats you like your some rare item that everyone is trying to get their hands on. He’s not going to let any other mortal take you away from him. He found you fair and square and if they have a problem with it then too bad for them. Oddly enough despite his murderous thing he’s really protective of you. Not in a way that he cares about you. As I said he’s a murderous thing his whole thing is to torture and murder anyone he pleases but if anyone but him dares try to do the same to you he’ll murder them no doubt about that and he’ll make it as painful as he could. You're his most prized possession, he’s the only one that’s allowed to do anything to you. No matter how many times you or someone else denies it.

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