#back to the future tickle fic

[simplytickled]

Remedy For The Jitters

Summary: Marty has been antsy all afternoon; Doc thinks he knows what the issue is and decides to help the kid out. Takes place before the events of the movie.

Requested by @ticklybing/@studious-switch.

"Marty, don't bother trying to lie to me, I've seen your leg shaking like it's about to fall off since you sat down."

Marty had been off from school for about an hour now, and like most afternoons, he had went straight to Doc's house. The boy usually demonstrated a level of curiosity towards the various gadgets and gizmos scattered about the workshop. Today, however, it was clear he had something else on his mind, something his companion immediately clocked.

"Really, Doc, I'm fine!" Marty replied with exasperation, shaking his head. "I've just got a bit of energy pent up for being at school all day, that's all!"

The inventor rolled his eyes with a small scoff. "These aren't the typical McFly jitters! You've been drumming your fingers against your leg, too! You only do that when you've got something on your mind." Doc said pointedly, nodding to the offending fingers, which stilled instantly in a vain attempt to cover up their motions.

"That's not true!" Marty stammered, a soft flush coming to his cheeks upon realizing he'd been caught. "Besides, even if there WAS something bothering me, you couldn't do much about it. Don't worry about me, Doc."

Doc's eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing as he looked at the boy closely. The silence was defending, especially in the absence of Doc's usual scientific ramblings.

"I've GOT it!" Marty flinched as the inventor's voice suddenly roared back to life at full volume. Doc pointed a finger at him, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "It's that girl, isn't it!"

The boy's blush darkened significantly, spreading up to his ears. "Girl? What girl?" He mumbled, averting his gaze.

"That one you've been making heart eyes at all semester! What was her name again? Janice? Jolene?"

"Jennifer..." Marty mumbled under his breath; of course Doc heard him.

"Jennifer, that was her name! What happened? Did you finally work up the courage to ask her out?"

The teen looked down, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well..." He started, pausing before a shy grin overtook his features. "Yeah, I did!"

Immediately, Doc matched his grin. "Why, that's wonderful! I knew you had it in you, my boy! Where are you going to take her?"

"I was thinking about the movies. There's this new flick coming out soon about aliens or something; do you think she'd like something like that? I know it's not a romantic comedy or anything, but those tend to release in the spring, so I'm kinda limited with my options here."

Doc chuckled. "I'm sure she'll have a good time, Marty! You're a charming young man, and from what you've told me, she seems to be a nice girl! Don't work yourself up over nothing."

Marty fiddled with his sunglasses, an anxious habit he had picked up over the years. "What if she doesn't, though? I really like her, Doc! I don't want to blow it because I came up with a subpar first date!" He replied.

"That's ridiculous! I think the cinema is a perfectly suitable first date for kids your age! You're just overthinking things!"

Despite his attempts to reassure the boy, Doc could see that his words did very little to soothe Marty's nerves. The other was practically vibrating, leg shaking a hundred miles an hour, and it was clear that his head was racing with all of the "what if" possibilities. No, it was going to take more than words to get Marty to stop worrying so much.

"Marty, don't make me pull out my secret weapon."

In an instant, the boy went completely still, eyes widening as they darted over to the scientist. Marty knew good and well what "secret weapon" meant.

"Doc, you wouldn't-"

"Oh, I would." Doc smirked, slowly starting to edge closer to the other. "IF you don't settle down.. Really, Marty, you're being too hard on yourself! The date hasn't even happened yet and you're already worried you'll mess up. Just be yourself and things will go fine!"

"But Doc, you don't get it! Jennifer is, like, WAY out of my league and I really need to impress her with-"

"Alright, I warned you." Marty didn't have time to react before the inventor pounced, hands latching onto his sides and beginning to squeeze rapidly.

In an instant, Marty's lips slammed slut, trying desperately to hold back the startled giggles threatening to spill out of him. The boy slouched over in his chair in a vain attempt to protect his torso, wrapping his arms around his waist with a soft whine in his voice. "Dohohohohoc, cut it ohohohohohohout!"

"Nope! You had your chance, now it seems I have to tickle the jitters out of you!" Doc replied, chuckling with amusement. His fingers jumped from place to place unpredictably, testing Marty's ribs, his stomach, his hips, cataloging which spots garnered the best reactions.

Marty shook his head rapidly, a little snort slipping out as fingers found a particularly bad spot on his lower belly. "Nehehahahahaha! N-Nohohoho, you dohohohohohon't!"

Fingers danced across his ribs like a piano, kneaded at his sides, poked and prodded at his tummy. Right as he finally started to process one touch, it would move somewhere else, changing in pressure and technique, keeping him on his toes.

The boy's legs kicked frantically, his heels scuffing against the floor as he tossed his head back. A loud, boyish belly laugh ripped from his throat as his friend's fingers spidered up to target just below his armpits. "OHOHOHO SHIHIHIT! DOHOHOHOC, PLEHEHEASE!"

"Bad spot, eh?" The inventor smirked, continuing to tease the sensitive area. "Then I suppose I should just keep tickling there, shouldn't I? After all, the more you laugh, the more of those nervous jitters you'll get rid of." Oh god, he was teasing now, and Marty didn't know if he could handle that.

"NOHOHO! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE, DOHOHOHOHOHON'T!"

"There's no point pretending you aren't having fun, my boy. You haven't tried to push my hands away once since I started." Doc pointed out with a knowing chuckle.

Immediately, Marty's cheeks turned a dark red, his laughter raising in pitch. As much as he hated to admit it, Doc was right. Even though his hands were free, Marty had not attempted to push away the other away or seriously protect his ticklish spots at any point. In fact, he hadn't uttered the word "stop" either, now that he thought about it.

"OHOHOHO MY GOHOHOHOD! DOHOHOHOHON'T TEHEHEHEASE ME, MAN!"

The boy's cackles turned borderline hysterical as Doc finally dug under his arms; one could say he resembled a hyena at that moment. It just tickled so bad, it should have been illegal!

"Oh, alright. I suppose I won't be mean, just this once. However, I'm not stopping until you promise you'll stop worrying so much about your date." The older man replied, shooting the other an affectionate grin. "Speaking of which, how ARE you feeling, my boy? Ready to tap out?"

Marty could have said yes. He could have begged for mercy, for those evil fingers to just MOVE SOMEWHERE ELSE. However, instead he just let out another flustered whine, curling furthur in on himself.

"Aah, it seems that you still need a bit of tickle therapy, then. Not to worry, Marty, I'm more than happy to help!"

Marty might regret his choice to not give in when he had the chance later...or maybe not. After all, he could say he was already feeling significantly less stressed.

[tteokdoroki]

࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #10. babies, lots of ‘em.

about. the all star jock has an intense breeding kink that leads him to confess the plans he has for he and his weird girlfriend’s future. ( 2.5K )

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, angst if you squint, characters aged up to 20s, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cum play, praise, jock bf!yuuji, weird girl + fem!reader - the brain rot continues !! inspired by @kweenkatsuki-fics recent yuuji thirsting hehe <3

“‘mma give you babies… lots of ‘em,” yuuji slurs, his hips ramming into yours at a bruising, unprecedented pace. 

beneath your shaky fingertips, the muscles of your boyfriend’s back ripple with his movements — his strength as he uses the headboard for leverage to fuck into your sloppy, sweltering heat of your sex. you’re flat on your back, his heavy and weighty body hanging over yours protectively while itadori traps you between the blazing heat in his chest and the sweaty bed sheets below. whenever yuuji gets in the mood like this, possessive and hungry for you ( and nobody else but you ), in the mood to keep you all to himself — you can’t help but succumb to each one of his touches and wet kisses. 

you can’t help the way your body trembles in the cage of his muscular arms while his abs ripple against your tummy and his pelvis tacks deliciously to your swollen clit. the bed creaks beneath the sloppy affair of your grinding bodies and somehow, within the mess of sex and love, your freehands link and squeeze to ground one another. “the way you’re suckin’ me in, god, honey,” yuuji coos, his words tickle the shell of your ear delicately, contrasting with the carnivorous way his deep brown eyes drink you in when he pulls back slightly to look at you, silver chain and dog tags dangling above your hot face, as if he’s picturing you nice and full of him and his seed. “so selfish, you don’t wanna let me pull out. you want this cum…yeah?” 

in that moment, you think you might cum, all because of the breathy whimpers from your lover that ghost over your dampened cupid’s bow ( wet from kisses ) — accompanied by the sensation of his hard-on bullying its way into your tight, quivering little hole. there’s a keen smile that spreads across yuuji’s plush lips when you nod your head ‘yes’ in response, you feel his excitement and desire for you deepen when the entire length of him twitches inside of you — pulsating as small spurts of precum begin to line your lewdly squelching walls.

“i knew you would, you’re such a good girl…and you’re all mine, how lucky am i? that you’re all. fucking. mine.” for a boy so sweet and gentlemanly outside of the bedroom, itadori is always sure to fuck you nasty and raw whilst making you feel like the most adored person on the planet. yuuji’s sailor-mouth-like praises are slurred and sinful, a tale tale sign that he’s already pussy drunk as he sheaths inch after inch within you. you can hardly blame him, not when your body adjusts to yuuji so perfectly — silken pussy stretching over the blue spiralling veins on his heavy cock. “mine to love, mine to fuck, mine to breed.” he tells you through seraphic gripes too.

“ohmygod!” you squeal, voice ringing hoarsely in your throat. your cunt spills honey molasses and sweet nectar against your ravaged sexes, juices intertwining with the small pink tufts of yuuji’s happy trail as his bright red tip bears down harshly on your gummy g-spot — providing him with the lube he needs to make love to you properly. “baby…i c-can’t!” 

just as you moan out again, legs squeezing around your boyfriend’s slender waist — yuuji’s blushing face ducks into your neck, making quick work of marking up your skin…because if he looks at your face, the way your brows crease softly and your lips part in a gentle ‘o’, and sees the way it twists with mounting pleasure. he won’t be able to hold off for much longer, he’ll lose his mind and fuck you too hard for either of you to cope. he knows that you can take it, manage to take all of his seed and all of his love — but if yuuji snaps, he’ll be pounding into you until he’s shooting blanks. 

with your hands traversing upwards into yuuji’s sea of pink curls and over his smooth undercut, he reacts with his golden eyes rolling back into the dark depths of his skull — temporarily locking away your sunlight that brings warmth to your dorm. a familiar heat prickles underneath the surface of your skin like a thousand tiny needles as you pant out your words, pleading with bambi as you look up at yuuji. “i want your cum, yuuji, i want you to…hah… fill me up ‘n get me pregnant…” there’s a feeling painfully seated above your abdomen, a burning sensation of mounting pleasure like a wound desperate to be licked and soothed by itadori.

by grinding up against him, sticky clit smearing over his tense stomach and golden abs, you think that you might garner some relief — but you only feel teased and taunted when the jock pulls his cock from the snugness of your tight head to slap his milky cockhead against your pulsing mound proudly.

“don’t say it like that, fuck, baby,” yuuji all but groans, lashes fluttering at the slick sound your cunt makes with each love tap. beads of his precum ooze over you in another form of claim, glazing you in yuuji’s scent and taste. some of it even drips from your abused hole as it clenches around nothing, desperate to be filled by all that your boyfriend has to offer. “there’s so much… s’leaking out of you. gonna have to keep you on my dick always, give you all my babies.” the rose haired man can’t even hear himself speak, not over the sound of blood rushing through his ears — carrying sex crazed hormones. certainly not over your sweet sighs that form a melody with the pap, pap, pap of your pussy as he slowly sinks back into you — building up a steady rhythm to his thrusts, like an ocean’s regular tide.

yuuji can’t stop rambling, saying whatever lustful thought sits at the forefront of his mind. having you splayed out beneath him like this, your nipples pert against his firm chest and your breasts bouncing with every forceful lunge of his hips forward — it drives him up a wall. “gonna look so pretty ‘n round when you’re full of me. i’ll put a ring on it, make you my pretty wife — holy fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight. you like it when i talk to you like that, huh?” the thick vein on the underside of his shaft presses deliciously up against pleasure spots that only yuuji knows about, never leaving you unsatisfied, not even for a moment as his body rocks passionately into yours.

tanned skin and hard muscle feel slippery underneath your trembling hands. you don’t know what to hold onto, don’t know how to ground yourself when you feel this good and yuuji’s cock skilfully dives into your sopping heat — promises of the future, a wedding and family hand in the humid air buzzing between you both but is best said by the way itadori’s body dsnces with your own, his arousal soaked signature lining your rippling walls.   

“need that so bad, yuuji! need you so bad… please fill me up, i want it inside.” you hiccup and demand, hardly able to speak through it all. the bed moans and groans just like you do, every time itadori’s dick pumps in and pulls out of your dripping, greedy hole — coated in a layer of foamy white. using your elbows as leverage, you work your hips down to meet yuuji in a slick and sensual dance, clenching at every inch of him that assails your insides until delight crackles over your hazy brain.  

“god, baby please…if you keep talking like that i’m gonna—“ yuuji whines from deep within his chest, the sound resonating through you and shooting straight down to your creamy cunt that clamps down on him, pulling little droplets of precum from his sensitive tip. 

your next words have the jock pounding into you with new vigour, desperate to give you everything that you want. “d-don’t pull out, yuuji. inside.” 

“ahh, okay,” he whimpers as his voice rises in pitch, brown eyes stinging with tears. his golden arms flex as they lift you by the apex of your thighs — dragging you back onto his cock and it’s unforgiving pace. itadori presses his forehead to yours, caramel eyes shining with tears that gleam in the afternoon sunlight breaking through the curtains of your dorm.  “okay, okay fuck. okay, oh god — h-honey, i’m…fuck! i-im cumming!” he stumbles over his every word, the pink haired jock’s entire world shattering into smaller glass fragments as he finally hits his peak. thick waves of white flood your womb, hot and viscous and lighting you up from the inside out. it coats your swollen pussy lips in an opaque layer that smears along your inner thighs, pouring endlessly from yuuji’s fat cock and breeder’s balls.

effectively breeding you. 

still humping at you relentlessly and not daring to leave you far behind, yuuji tacks two of his fingers to your clit and caresses it in smooth circles, searing his name into you forever. he never lets up, fucking his cum into your womb with languid thrusts — bulbous and mushroomed cockhead spurting his hot seet against your g-spot as it grazes the epicentre of your pleasure over and over again. yuuji holds you in his arms while your vision clears, replaced by only blinding flashes of white and accompanied by an empty scream rattling around in your throat. your arousal spurts out of you in generous and clear streams, nearly forcing yuuji’s cock from your tight, rippling walls — painting both you and him in your juices. 

your boyfriend can barely hold himself above you as you both finally come down, flopping onto you and trapping you against the sex soiled matress for cuddles. 

“we can’t have babies, yuuji,” you laugh happily, letting out a puff of air from deep within your chest once you’re finally able to catch your breath. “not right now, we’re too young and we’re still in college!”

“well duh, not right now…” he muses, kissing your jaw and your neck and every part of you that he’s marked up and bruised. “but like afterwards…yanno? a few years down the line when we both have jobs. i’m gonna be pro and you’ll be a sexy career woman. ‘n i’ll make so much money that you can take all the time off you want. make sure you’re nice and taken care of and—“ 

giggling, the sweet melodies of your laughter cut through your boyfriend’s wistful rambling. 

“what’s so funny?” 

“it’s just…you’ve really got this all planned out, huh?” you reach a hand up to cup itadori’s sweaty cheek, brushing a thumb over the rough scarring at the corner of his mouth. he leans into you, much like a cat seeking physical touch, and you scratch just under his chin. “you want to be with me for that long?” 

“i mean…yeah. i want you for the rest of my life. i thought that was obvious,” yuuji manages to say while you squish his cheeks and play about with his face, sounding a little dejected. “don’t you? … don’t you want that with me?” 

your smile drops as you shift to your elbows, immediately dead set on reassuring your usually confident boyfriend. “of course i want that with gou. i want everything with you, it’s just that…” you chew on your words, push them around the cavern of your mouth as it dries with nervousness. “it’s just that… i’m still so different to you, i’m still not…conventional by any means. so i just thought… by the time college was over you’d—“ 

“i’d get bored of you?” 

yuuji looks almost offended, his pink and kiss-swollen lips pushed forward into a pout and his dark brows drawn together in the centre of his forehead. falling back onto the sheets, one of his hands sink into the pillow supporting your head as you lay flat on your back — you feel it tremble with an emotion you can’t quite place on his face. is it anger? hurt? annoyance? either way, your heart hammers in your chest and crawls it’s way up your throat. you feel nauseous at the prospect of even upsetting yuuji — especially after the loving sex you’ve just had. 

a croak in your throat replaces your sweet voice, you’re not sure if it’s because of how you’d been previously screaming your boyfriend’s name or because of how nervous you’ve suddenly become. “y-yeah,” you say slowly. “that.” 

“how could you even think that?” yuuji breathes steadily, the corner of his mouth twitching into a frown but you can’t bare to look at him any longer — casting your gaze to the side. 

shaking your head, you blink back tears you hadn’t even known were there. “i don’t… i don’t know. forget it, pretend i never said anything.” 

itadori bends at the neck to reach you,  tutting into the air as it cools down and loses its feverish taste for lust. his nose bumps yours, the pair of them becoming neighbours while his breath coasts across your face almost comfortingly. 

“when i say i want you, i mean it. forever,”  he confesses, like a reflex, like the natural reflex that his brain has to make his heart beat. “i want you to be my wife after all this. you’re not just some college fling to me. i want to buy you a house, a big ring, keep you comfortable for the rest of my life. i decided on that when i first met you,” a calloused finger and thumb tilt your chin to the perfect angle, making you look at him, your gaze falling into a mahogany one belonging only to your doting partner. “i don't care how long it takes to prove this to you… but you’re the love of my life, so have a little faith in me. okay?”

yuuji takes your hand in his, placing your palm on the left side of his chest where the muscle keeping him alive races for you. the only girl in the room. the only girl in his worlds. his dog tags jingle at the movement but his eyes on you remain unwavering and so full of commitment. you’d be stupid not to believe him now.

“okay,” you affirm sweetly, tilting your head a little further in a silent ask. you want a kiss. “i love you, yuuji.” 

“and i love you right back,” he mumbles against your lips without skipping a beat, slotting your mouths together perfectly in a gentle chaste kiss. “now baby, please stop asking me to cum inside, you know i can’t help it and we can’t have babies just yet,” yuuji whines and collapses on top of you with a huff. 

“you’re the one who said you wanted to give me babies!” 

“and you’re the one who keeps feeding into my breeding kink, let’s not get it twisted here!”

and all throughout your playful bickering, yuuji stays nestled deep inside of you — keeping you plugged full. of both his cum and his love.  

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[aemondsbabe]

Ñuha Zaldrīzes

summary: future & facesitting || discussing wishes for your baby with your husband turns into something more

pairing: daemon targaryen x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, pregnant reader, oral sex (f receiving), allusions to piv sex, dirty talk, daemon being soft and loving we love to see it, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 1.8k

a/n: happy day eight of 12 days of smuff!!! surely this counts as future otherwise i'd have them fucking in a spaceship & that just didn't sit right with me

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @pedropcl

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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A soft giggle bursts from your lips as Daemon’s hand skirts over your large belly yet again, his soft touches tickling your skin as his hand ghosts lovingly over your bump, the delicate lacy fabric of your nightgown bunched around his wrist. 

“Okay, okay, so,” you say breathily, finally calming down as his touch seems to settle on your hip, “If it’s a little girl, perhaps Vaenera? And for a little boy… Vaenor?” You suggest, your breath warm against the prince’s neck as you rest your cheek against his shoulder, tucked safely into his side atop your silk covered bed. 

“I still think we should name her Visenya,” the blond drawls, tracing soothing patterns into your hip as he holds you against him, “With a nice strong name like that, she will grow to greatness.” 

You stay silent for a moment, your eyes locked onto the fluid movements of the sheer curtains that lead out onto the balcony, watching as they blow in the breeze carried in by the Narrow Sea. Daemon can’t help but notice you still against him and he smiles softly when he sees that familiar, far off look in your eyes – always his dreamer.

“Where did you go?” He asks gently, all traces of the usual brash, cocky tone with which he speaks gone. 

“Nowhere,” you smile, tilting your head up to peer at him through your lashes, “I was merely thinking of what kind of person this little one will grow up to be.” You stroke a hand over your belly as you speak, your smile only growing as you feel a soft, barely there kick against your palm. 

“If they’re even half as kind and gentle as their mother, the world will be a much better place with them in it,” your husband whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. A pink blush blooms across the apples of your cheeks, as it always does when he speaks so tenderly. 

“And if they’re half as hard headed as their father, well… somehow, I will love them all the more,” you whisper, laughing yet again as Daemon trails his fingers over your side, tickling you purposefully this time.

“Me, hard headed?” He teases, laughing along with you, “I’m not the one that nearly sent the kitchens into a tailspin this evening when they demanded duck, now am I?” His violet eyes sparkled in the low light of the candles that flickered around the room, a teasing smirk etched across his face.

“That’s very unfair!” You giggle, leaning up to properly look at him. “You know how I am when I’m with child,” you huff, your blush only deepening when you see his eyes darken just slightly as his gaze flits over you, “Especially once it’s this far along; all I want is roast duck and–”

“And lemon cakes at every meal,” Daemon finishes for you, softly smiling, “Yes, sweetling, the entire castle is most aware.” He chuckles. 

“Then the kitchens should know to have duck, that’s all I’m saying…” You grumble, sinking back down into his embrace. The two of you relax into a comfortable silence for many minutes, your husband’s breathing so steady and calm that you assume he’s fallen asleep. When he speaks again, his soft voice almost startles you.

“The kitchens did particularly well with the lemon cakes this evening…”

Your eyebrows furrow together at the statement and you lift your head again, meaning to give him a confused stare. The cakes were exceptionally good this evening, but you can’t help but notice the teasing lilt in his voice.

You open your mouth to speak, but the darkness in Daemon’s eyes gives you pause, a breathy, barely audible whimper escaping your lips before you have a chance to stop it.

“However, I can’t help but be in the mood for a much different type of dessert, little wife.” He says lowly, gently pulling you up until your faces are level, careful to be ever conscious of your growing stomach. 

“Daemon –” You start, only to be cut off with a searing kiss as he presses his lips to yours. You whimper against his lips, your head already spinning in his embrace as his tongue toys with yours.

“It’s been so long,” he starts, trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, nibbling at one spot that always has you seeing stars, “Since you’ve let me have what I want.”

“H-Husband,” you gasp breathlessly, your nails digging helplessly into his chest as you cling to him, “You had me just this, Gods, this morning for breakfast, if you’ll recall.” You managed to say between whimpers and gasps as he practically feasted on the sensitive spot on your neck, his hands softly kneading and caressing your breasts. 

He makes a small, displeased hum before he pulls back to look at you, his dark eyes studying you carefully before a small smirk grows on his lips, “You know very well that’s not what I’m after.”

Your eyes widen just slightly as you finally catch his meaning; you shake your head with a small chuckle. “Surely you can’t be serious,” your smile fades as he holds your stare with a small, unchanging smirk, “Daemon, I’ll crush you!”

“And what an honorable death that would be, sweet wife,” he chuckles, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he lifts you up and onto his lap, your head spins as you feel his already hard length pressing against you through the thin linen breeches he has on, “I’ll be fine, it’s not as if this is exactly new territory for us…” He teases, gently skirting his hands over your belly. 

“We’ve never done it when I’ve been… like this, though,” you shyly point out, looking down at your bump. 

“Do you really not see how insatiable I become every time you’re with child?” Daemon asks, his voice soft and gentle, “I will only ever have you like this a scant few times. Please, sweetling, let me savor it.”

Biting your lip, you gaze down at him, eyes trailing across his bare chest and shoulders and up the strong column of his neck before they finally settle on his face – the look in his eyes nearly making you gasp. His violet eyes are fixed on you, roaming over your body with so much love and adoration that you feel as if you may melt from it. 

Before you even register the movement, you’re nodding. 

Daemon’s eyes instantly flick up to yours, sparkling with victory. His hands grip your hips again, gently guiding you up his muscular form as he silently thanks the Seven that you wear nothing beneath your Myrish lace nightgowns. A loud groan practically bursts from the prince’s chest once you’re positioned over his face; he loves being surrounded by you — loves the way your soft thighs bracket his head, the way you position your dripping center perfectly over his mouth, and the way the only thing he sees when he looks up is your belly, swollen with his seed, his child. 

If it were up to Daemon, he would happily spend the rest of his days here. 

Your chest heaves as you grip the headboard of the bed, your heart hammering in your chest from the anticipation of it. You whimper softly as his hands, rough from so many years of sword fighting and dragon riding, grab at your thighs and hips. 

He presses soft, sweet kisses to the inside of your thighs before licking a slow, steady line up your center; you can feel him smirk triumphantly against you as moans and whimpers spill from your lips. 

“Oh, Gods, Daemon!” You gasp, voice already ragged as you white-knuckle the headboard. Your thighs tremble with the effort of holding yourself even a fraction of an inch above your husband’s face, something he notices quite quickly. A displeased growl rumbles from his chest, making you pant as it vibrates against your core.

“Fucking sit,” Daemon rasps, tugging you against his mouth, his tongue roughly spearing into you as he grinds your pearl against his nose, hands moving your hips against his face. 

Your mind all but whites out as he rocks you against him, nose and tongue working in perfect tandem to send shivers down your spine. Your eyes squeeze shut, frantic moans pouring from your mouth as a fire steadily builds within you. 

“H-Husband,” you pant, walls clenching tightly around his tongue as he groans into your heat, “I— Fuck, I’m—!” You can hardly get the words out as Daemon seals his lips around your sensitive bud, suckling it at a maddening pace as his hands move down to cup your ass, kneading it roughly. 

Your face flushes at the slick sounds pouring from between your thighs as the prince growls against you, sounding as if he’s gaining as much satisfaction as you are. Your core clenches at the thought, pleasure threatening to consume you. 

“Daemon!” You cry urgently, shaking above him, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. You want so badly to thread your fingers through his hair as you normally would, but you can’t even see his face around your protruding belly. 

He groans loudly beneath you once more and fucks his tongue back into you, causing the knot in your belly to pull tightly before finally unraveling. Sparks burst behind your eyelids, your back arching as your whole body tenses and relaxes in time with his movements. 

The prince moans appreciatively, messily drinking down your pleasure as you peak on top of him. You jump when one of his hands smacks against your ass, the tingling sting extending your release, the intensity of it nearly making you go mad. 

Finally, once your signs of relief have turned into whimpers of overstimulation, Daemon releases you with a pleased hum, helping you shuffle back down his body until you’re straddling his hips once again. 

You laugh softly at the sight of him — his cheeks flushed a light pink, hair sticking up at odd angles, and a pleased, self-satisfied grin on his face. 

“You look as if you were the one who was ravished, my dragon,” you tease, your heart rate slowly returning to normal as you trace over the muscular dips in his chest and stomach.

The prince chuckles lowly, his violet eyes still dark with lust as he takes in your curves. “Ravishing you is a pleasure in and of itself, sweet wife,” he drawls, smirking as you gasp at the feel of his cock against your sensitive core as he rolls his hips against you, “I trust you’ll allow me to feel it again?” He asks, that all too familiar cocky tone back, as if asking is merely a formality. 

Sighing happily, you bite your lip as you stare down at him, the knot in your belly beginning to tighten again as you feel his length pressing hotly to you. 

“I believe that can be arranged.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[naughtyjjk]

just a massage (pt. 1)

characters: nanami x reader warnings: 18+, smut, massage, sexual tension, dirty talk, fingering, masturbation this fic is planned to have 3 parts. if you want to be tagged when i update (and for future posts in general) just leave a comment!

it’s not your first time coming to the massage parlor, but you still feel a little out of place, even if you know how all of this goes.

there’s no one in the room with you, yet. on the bed, you go to lie down on your stomach with only a towel tied around your waist. this is the procedure—you get undressed first, almost completely naked, stripping free of your stresses so that you're ready to fully relax and alleviate any soreness in your body. but you can’t help feeling a little self-conscious every time you start.

what you don't expect is for the masseuse to appear through the doorway completely shirtless, wearing only a pair of tight shorts. nothing is left to the imagination, so you can see everything that he has to offer. it’s hard not to stare. he’s... well, he's hot, your brain supplies unhelpfully.

you take a moment to appreciate the sight of him. the man's blond hair is stylized in a clean look, and he has sharp eyes and an even sharper jawline. his chest is toned, his abs look delicious, and his thighs are thick and strong. it's obvious that he works out regularly. and you didn’t intend to check him out so thoroughly, but your gaze drifts to his arms, the veins that are visible there, and down to his hands.

in a moment, those hands are going to be on you. all over your body. you swallow at the mere thought of it.

before you know it, the man has made his way to the massage bed, standing right next to you. he nods at you in acknowledgement and says nothing else as he grabs all the items he needs from the counter to the side.

you know that his name is nanami kento because it had showed up when you booked the appointment, but it's still a little strange that he doesn't introduce himself whatsoever. he seems to be the quiet type, but from the way he moves, there's confidence, too. he must be skilled at his job.

watching him, you find that you can't look away. it's embarrassing to admit, but you've been fighting to keep your thoughts pure this whole time, and it's quickly becoming a losing battle.

his back is turned to you and you watch his muscles flex as he moves. there are dirty thoughts swimming all through your head; you can't help it, not when there's such an attractive man in front of you on full display. you feel guilty too, because it's not like you came here for anything other than a massage, and nanami is so serious looking that you can tell he holds himself to a high degree of professionality. there's no way he would go after a client. the thought probably never even crosses his mind.

knowing this, you tell yourself to calm down. don't stare at him too much. don't let him realize how you're practically lusting after his body.

he gestures at you and that's when you finally snap out of it. he's telling you to get comfortable on the bed and you do as you’re told, sighing once you're in position. there’s gentle instrumental music playing in the background, a soothing tone that could probably lull you to sleep after a while. right now though, sleeping wouldn’t be possible, given how you’re hyperaware that nanami's full attention has turned to you. 

a second later, without any warning, you feel cool liquid hitting your back and you almost gasp aloud. following that, a pair of warm hands begin to spread it all over your skin. up and down, nanami moves slowly, rubbing across your shoulder blades, along your spine, fingers splayed out. occasionally, they’ll wrap around your ribs, tickling the sides of your breasts.

once the oil is spread out evenly, nanami focuses on your shoulders, kneading into the muscles there. he’s skilled, you can tell that much. somehow, he manages to hit all the right places, working out knots in your muscles that you didn’t even know were there.

“hmm. you have a lot of tension in this area,” nanami murmurs, pressing down. “where else do you usually feel discomfort or pain?”

he asked a question, but all you can think in the moment is, god, his voice. it's low and a bit rough and it does something to you, awakens something in the pit of your stomach.

your eyelids have fluttered shut, melting under his touch. you feel so comfortable here that you almost forget to reply. “mm… a bit lower.”

following your directions, nanami slides down to your lower back, palms dragging against your skin as if to pull all the tension away from your body. he reaches the dip where your hipbones start, rubbing the skin with his thumbs.

“here?” nanami asks, and you hum in confirmation. “let me know if it hurts, but i’m going to go a bit deeper. usually, it’s most effective when you press hard…”

somehow, the pressure is just right that it makes you let out a soft moan, entirely unintentional. embarrassed, you mumble, “s-sorry.”

“don't worry, sweetheart,” nanami reassures you, and that nickname has you melting. he presses at the same place once more. “it's better not to hold back your sounds. letting it out can help make you feel better as well.”

so, even though it still makes you slightly self-conscious, you allow yourself to freely vocalize your appreciation for nanami's work whenever he hits a particularly good spot. after a while, you hardly even notice your own noises, too engrossed in everything nanami is doing that’s making you more and more relaxed… and maybe something else, too.

you don't know if it’s caused by the increased blood flow from nanami warming up your body or what, but you start to notice something stirring inside you. something that you recognize and can only be described as getting turned on. fuck, you curse mentally. this isn’t right. nanami may be insanely attractive, and he's treating you so well, but in the end, he’s only doing his job.

“try not to move so much.” nanami holds you still, bringing your thoughts back to the present. his voice lowers in pitch, just a whisper when he adds, “i know you can be good for me.”

and that—you swallow thickly. you can’t tell if nanami said it on purpose or if you're just interpreting it the wrong way because you're starting to get all hot and bothered now, fighting to keep your growing arousal in check.

but nanami only moves on as normal. he slides both hands down one of your legs, then back up. he does the same for the other leg. again and again, he continues, alternating between the right and left sides. each time, his hands seem to move further inward until he’s fully concentrated on the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

for a brief second, nanami's hands snake under your towel, brushing against your ass. it happens so quickly that he has already retreated before you can even process it. but then it’s there again—a slight pressure on your ass, just grazing it with his fingertips. so light that it could be passed off as an accident. this time, you gasp, feeling tingles spread from the place of contact.

“does it feel good?” nanami's voice is suddenly right beside you, whispering in your ear. the tone is low and sultry—seductive, even. there’s something inherently sexual about those choice of words, the way he says it, the implications behind them.

“ah—y-yeah.” you shudder making a physical effort to keep your breathing even. “feels good.”

satisfied, nanami asks, “want me to keep going?”

and, you think, is this really happening? maybe you were wrong about him. maybe he's not as serious as you thought he'd be, because he clearly knows what he's doing to you. he has to… right?

your heart is racing, and all nanami does is wait patiently for your answer. so, you shift on the bed, spreading your legs apart just the slightest, but it’s an obvious invitation that you know nanami will pick up on. “please.”

without even seeing him, you just know that nanami is smirking.

you moan when he slicks his hands with more oil and begins to run them along your thighs again. heat rushes between your legs and you hadn’t noticed until now, but there’s definitely a wetness there. and it’s not just from the oil—you're dripping, no doubt caused by nanami's sensual motions.

the rational part of you thinks, fuck. this is so inappropriate. you shouldn’t be getting aroused from this, all turned on and riled up in a massage parlor of all places. but the two of you have already gone well past what’s appropriate and there’s no denying that you want more.

“mm… n-nanami,” you try to convey with urgency.

"kento," he corrects you. "call me kento."

shuddering, you moan out, "kento."

nanami's breath hitches at the sound of his name around your lips and it's the first real sign that he's affected by all this, too.

“good girl,” he says, voice low and soothing. the praise sends shivers up your spine. “just relax and focus on my hands.”

it’s not like you can really concentrate on anything else even if you wanted to, especially with the way nanami is being so distracting. your mind is going blank more often than not, but still, you have to ask, “i-is this something you do regularly with your clients?”

“give massages? that’s kind of my job.” nanami chuckles, hands never stopping even once. he’s deliberately missing the point, even though it’s obvious that he’s aware how this is quickly veering away from being a normal session. “now, stop thinking so much and just feel.”

his hands meet in the middle where they rub along your inner thighs, brushing against the sensitive skin, sliding dangerously close to your pussy. moaning, you let himself get lost in the sensations, finally giving in.

“ngh—there,” you mumble. “o-oh… fuck…”

“that’s it, let yourself enjoy it. there’s nothing to be worried about.” nanami's movements have grown more daring, not at all matching his words. “remember, this is just a massage.”

nanami moves higher and higher, nudging the towel until it’s riding up on your hips, exposing your ass fully. he pauses as if to admire the view before warm hands caress your cheeks, rubbing in circular motions. the oil makes everything feel even better, a smooth glide across your skin as anticipation boils inside you.

it’s hard to tell how long this goes on for. nanami seems content just touching you, holding the mounds of your ass in his hands and alternating between gentle scrapes of his fingertips and hard squeezes with his palms.

soon, the rhythm of his movements begins to change, and it takes you a moment to realize that nanami is subtly spreading your pussy apart. you hold your breath as he trails a finger slowly, slowly along the outside of your opening.

“you have a nice pussy,” nanami says appreciatively, almost like he’s just making normal conversation, and you go hot at the compliment. “so wet and tight…”

fuck. you can’t help it; arousal washes through you and you have to bite back a moan as nanami continues working his magic. you're being seduced—every dirty word insinuating something more is calculated, every touch on your body is meant to break you down—and you're hardly even resisting. the sexual tension is palpable in the air. it’s no surprise that you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.

you swallow, mouth dry. you remind yourself to take slow, steady breaths.

it’s just a massage, you think helplessly as nanami brushes past your pussy again and again and again, merciless in his assault, leaving you trembling on the bed. without fail, your body flinches every time those skilled fingers come in contact with your most sensitive spot. it’s torturously repetitive, and you may know exactly what’s coming, but the effect it has on you is still the same.

just a massage, you think as nanami traces around your opening, applying almost enough pressure to push inside. groaning, you lift your hips subconsciously, trying to get him to go further. nanami only chuckles at how eager you are and removes his hands altogether. it's fucking agonizing.

just a massage, you think. except it’s not. not with the way nanami is playing with your pussy, feeling the wetness there. he brushes a single finger past your clit, igniting every nerve in your body, and you jolt at the sensation. you feel yourself throb with need, so fucking turned on.

“oh—mm, kento…”

“look at how much tension you have here,” nanami says. “you’re all pent up, aren’t you? is that why you’re… looking for some release?”

moaning, you're finding it increasingly harder to concentrate on anything other than the hands that are teasing you. and it is teasing—every action slow and languid like nanami has all the time in the world to take you apart. you can’t help but get impatient, frustrated at the fact that you're both still keeping up the pretense of treating this like a regular appointment.

because what you really want is for nanami to pound you into the bed already, use those skilled hands of his to slip inside you and finger you as deep as he can go. talk dirty to you as the two of you fuck while forcing yourselves to be quiet at the same time in case anyone could hear them from outside the room. god, just imagining it has you getting more wet, your pussy pulsing and begging for more of his contact.

any chance you had of holding back is gone. you're only getting more turned on by the minute, given the suggestive tone of nanami's words and the way he seems to know all of your weak spots, taking full advantage of them. fuck, nanami has made you so horny.

but nanami seems to decide that he’s done playing with your pussy for now. he goes back to rubbing your ass, then shifts to your lower back, higher until he reaches your shoulder blades. and down after that, both palms flat, drawing parallel lines on either side of your spine, over your ass, along your legs.

squirming on the spot, you wait rather impatiently for nanami to touch you where you want it again. but what he does next surprises you—he pulls at the towel and wraps it tightly around your waist, securing it in place as if nothing had happened. then he steps back and clears his throat.

nanami says, simply, “all done.”

"wh-wha—?” your eyes flutter open for the first time since you started. your head is still clouded with arousal as you turn around to try and get a look at nanami.

“your session is over,” he informs you like he didn’t purposely stop as soon as he got you all worked up. “you can get dressed and go now.”

“but i—” you pause, unsure of what to say. you don't want to leave yet. you're beyond aroused, dripping between your legs, aching for more, and you want nanami's hands back on you until you—fuck, until you come.

nanami licks his lips, eyes darkening as he takes in the desperate state you're in. “i know you might still have some… kinks you want to work out, but our time is up for today,” he says, gesturing at the clock on the wall. “please feel free to book another appointment for yourself if you'd like more of my services."

blinking, you slowly push yourself up from the bed, still processing everything. it’s true that you hadn’t exactly expected to get laid when you came for a massage, but nanami was the one who started it, and he got you to this state—so aroused and turned on that you can hardly think properly. he should take responsibility. but as it is, all nanami does is give you space to gather yourself, back turned to you as he busies himself with setting up for the next appointment.

shuffling awkwardly off the bed, you feel like you just went through one of the hottest experiences of your life only to get denied in the end. your pussy isn’t happy with it either, still throbbing between your legs, begging for attention.

"oh, one last thing," nanami says. he steps closer and closer toward you until he has you pinned against the wall, lining up your hips together and grinding into you, just once.

gasping, you throw your head back, feeling exactly how hard nanami has gotten in his pants. the contact of his erection against your aching pussy is delicious, and you let out an utterly wrecked sound, moaning openly at the much-needed friction. “ah—f-fuck—”

mouth right by you ear now, nanami whispers, “i’ll be waiting for you to come back. next time, i'll give your pussy the attention it deserves.”

as nanami steps away, you feel the muscles in your legs giving out on you. you have to hold onto the wall to stand upright. your head is swimming, dizzy with arousal from nanami's parting words, arousal reignited by his actions.

in the changing room, before putting on your clothes, you slip a hand under the towel and don't think twice as you begin to masturbate yourself, far too turned on to wait any longer. your movements are restricted, but you don't untie the towel yet because it feels more taboo this way, like you're committing a forbidden act, and it gets you off more than you'd like to admit.

the setting makes you hyperaware of your surroundings; people are constantly going back and forth in the hallway, and this is a public changeroom. someone could walk in on you at any time. fuck, the whole scenario shouldn’t be this damn hot.

you're already wet and dripping so it doesn't take much to slip a finger inside yourself, pumping it in and out, slow at first. agonizingly slow, like how nanami would do it if he were here. but even that feels so fucking good, to finally give your pussy some stimulation and relief for being pent up for so long.

breaths coming out ragged and uneven, you close your eyes and lets the desire overtake you as you add a second finger. you replay everything that nanami did during their session, the ghost of his touches still lingering on your body. warm hands up and down your back, your legs, your inner thighs… your pussy. oh, the way he deliberately didn’t give you what you wanted but still teased you, teased you, teased you. you have a lot of tension here…

and then you imagine what the two of you would do if you had more time, if you didn’t care about breaking the rules and gave yourselves over to lust completely. the heat of nanami's body flush against yours, his cock rubbing against you, penetrating you, stretching you open as he fucks you, hips moving frantically until you both inevitably come—

the visual proves to be too much and you moan, low and drawn out, free hand moving quickly to cover your mouth so that you muffle the sound of your pleasure. fuck, you want nanami so bad. you want to lie down on the bed again and spread your legs and feel those enticing fingers caress every part of your body until you're begging for his cock to go inside you. hard and rough. filthy.

your hand leaves your mouth as it trails down to circle your clit, shuddering as you play with the swollen nub there. the pace of your thrusts has sped up significantly, trembling as you lean against the wall for support. your hips rock back and forth, both hands moving in tandem as you finger yourself and pleasure your clit, chasing the high of your orgasm.

somewhere out of sight, you hear nanami talking to a stranger, a colleague, another client, maybe. it’s impossible to make out what he’s saying, but just the sound of his voice, low and sultry and so fucking seductive, is enough to send you right to the edge.

“k-kento…” you moan. god, he’s right there, on the other side of the wall. and it’s more than likely that he could hear you if you're too loud, if you lose yourself and fuck, you might as well admit it: you want nanami to hear you. you want nanami to know that you couldn’t even wait to go home because the session had been unbearable for you and you're just that horny. you would give anything to drag him in here and beg him to make you come.

and it’s coming, your release; you're really feeling it now. your pussy is throbbing hard and fuck, fuck, you're close. so dangerously close. moans spill out of your mouth, panting as you thrust into yourself even faster. you can’t take it anymore. you can’t hold on any longer. your hand draws tight circles around your clit, and a jolt of pleasure shoots up your spine, and then your hips are stuttering, head thrown back, mouth falling open as it all rushes through you at once. o-oh, fuck—

you come to the image of nanami fucking you hard in your mind, smooth rolls of his hips as his cock pushes deep into you, again and again. you come all over your hand, your arousal dripping down your leg, onto the floor. the noise that slips past your lips would be embarrassing if it didn’t feel so fucking good.

slowly regaining your breath and returning to your senses, you look down at the mess you've made, a puddle of your wetness beneath you. you clean yourself up as best as you can and quickly get dressed, grabbing all of your belongings and heading to the door.

as soon as you step outside the changing room, you stop in your tracks. because waiting by the entrance is nanami, alone. the other person must have left already. nanami isn’t saying anything, but the expression on his face tells you that he knows exactly what you've done.

swallowing hard, you walk past him, all the way to the main lobby and out the door of the massage parlor. your pussy is still throbbing faintly in your pants, a lingering echo of your orgasm. you think about the towel and the wetness on the floor you left behind in the changing room for nanami to find, proof of your desire and lust. the self-pleasure you indulged in while fantasizing about nanami.

next time, you think with resolve, you won’t be getting off on your own in a locked room. you're going to have the real thing. 

next time… you’ll make sure that nanami won’t be able to resist fucking you.

.

after you’ve left, nanami runs a hand through his hair and lets out a shaky breath, cursing. he doesn’t know what came over him. as part of his job, he sees a lot of naked bodies, but he’s always been able to keep a distance and maintain a sense of professionalism. but you—the minute he first saw you, he couldn’t deny his attraction to your body, and that feeling only grew over time as he got started on your massage.

he loved the feeling of lathering oil all over your body, running his hands over your smooth skin and around your curves like he couldn’t get enough of you. he loved watching as you relaxed under his touch, as you undeniably became more and more turned on when he took his time teasing you.

just thinking about it again has him groaning. he glances down at his shorts, at the obvious tent between his legs. the bulge there is obscene, fabric stretched to its limit, and he feels like he could burst at any moment. there’s a wet spot where the tip is and and the fabric shifts as he twitches. he doesn’t remember the last time he had been this painfully hard.

and nanami tries to resist, he really does, but he can’t take it anymore. he’s so fucking aroused that he can’t think straight at all. pushing down his pants, he lets out a sigh once his cock is finally free, springing up now that it’s no longer restricted within its confines.

it stands tall between his legs, rigid and rock hard, curving upward. the veins are prominent and he’s leaking uncontrollably, precum pooling at the head and spilling down his shaft in a steady stream. 

standing by the bed where you had been lying not long ago, nanami closes his eyes and thinks of you in his mind. he doesn’t touch himself yet; instead, his hands start on his neck, trailing down to his collarbones and chest, pausing to play with his nipples. the jolt of pleasure there causes his cock to twitch in anticipation. then he goes further, down his stomach to his hips, brushing against the base of his cock... 

his hips thrust forward into the air, into nothing, as he imagines himself climbing on top of you on the bed, pinning your hands so that you can’t escape. he lines up his cock with your pussy and pushes into your entrance slowly, slowly.

here, nanami finally allows a hand to touch himself. he’s waited long enough; he’s about to go crazy with arousal and can’t fucking take it anymore. fingers wrapping around his length, he gives himself a firm squeeze, moaning, feeling his cock throbbing hard in return. 

and then he snaps, the last bit of his self-control withering away. he pumps his cock with purpose, fast, faster, until his hips start moving in time with his hand, bucking forward at every stroke. he’s fucking you, fucking into that tight pussy of yours, watching as you squirm and tremble and moan beneath him.

breathing hard, nanami twists his hand and circles his cockhead. the action makes his hips stutter, a rush of pleasure washing over him. his whole body is burning hot. he’s getting close, working himself right up to the edge, so close to coming now—

his balls feel so heavy and full. he has to use his free hand to hold onto the side of the bed as he feels his knees going weak, stroking steadily, never stopping or slowing down. his cock aches, throbbing in his grasp. one finger swipes over his slit and his mouth falls open, head thrown back as he whines and cries out. 

he thinks about what you’d look like when you come, begging him for your release. p-please, kento, fuck me harder—i need your cock—i-i’m so close, i’m gonna—gonna come—

“f-fuck,” he grunts. and nanami is coming with you, choking out a broken moan as his cock pulses and pulses. with two more strokes, all the tension in his body is released at once, ropes of white splattering in front of him. he comes in spurts, emptying everything he has all over the massage bed, and it’s absolutely filthy. 

he’s still panting by the time he’s done, coming down from the high of his orgasm. looking around, he remembers where he is and feels dirty for jerking himself off at work. quickly, nanami cleans up the evidence, wiping and sanitizing the bed so that it’ll be presentable for future appointments.

looking at the door, he’s grateful that no one walked in on him because he’s not sure whether or not he would’ve been able to stop in the moment. it had felt so good. he had been so fucking horny, all because of you.

he doesn’t regret doing it. he just can’t let it happen again.

.

part 2 and 3 coming soon!

tag list: @megumisdivinedogs @urlilwhore @l0rdgeosupport3rr @purple-obsidian

(comment to be added)

[thegaysinmyhead]

PROLOGUE

Guys—I never ever ever write Yandere Fics but?? Dead on Main Mutual Yandere??? Ghost Obsessions or Ghost Biology taken to an extreme, leading to bloody and ectoplasmic messes??? DAMN

(Legit wrote this in 15 minutes on my phone lmao)

Jason smirked underneath his mask, a feral grin of all teeth as he dug his nails into the body underneath him. These white suited fucks had been crawling through Gotham for weeks and the Pit snarled everytime he caught sight of one in his territory. It had been months since he had gone into a green-tinted rage, but every time he saw one of the walking stain collectors he had to fight one down. The Pit snarled deep in his chest and begged for violence, begged to turn the eggshell colored tuxedos into a mess of carnage, everytime he came close to the 'agents'.

There was an ache in his gums and a burning underneath his nails, he dug them deeper into the light colored flesh. Blood pooled under the abuse, were his nails supposed to be that sharp?

Jason got tired of watching these guys shuffle through Crime Alley like they owned the streets he cleaned, and the people under his protection were constantly complaining about them too. He was just supposed to come in to question them, threaten them so they learned the rules, he didn't expect the RAGE-RAGE-RAGE that overtook him as soon as he was in range of the eyesores.

It was...different than his usual pit-induced madness. There was a purpose tickling in the back of his brain—a garbled voice he recognized but didn't that was screaming at him.

RAGE-PROTECT-KING

King?

Jason snarled before putting the rest of his strength into his grip, there was an audible snap underneath his palm. The last agent's body fell limp in his grasp.

KING-PROTECT-SAVE

The thing in his chest howled at him as it forced his legs to move, instinct carrying him as he put bullets (real ones, why did he have real ones? He barely used those anymore) into whatever fashion-freak tried to stop him with their Lazarus green guns. Their aim was shit, his was better.

KING-HERE-PROTECT

There was a paines scream on the other side of the wall that had Jason snapping back into awareness, and with strength he didn't know he had he ripped a thick metal door with his bare hands and threw it to the side. The Pit settled in his chest, a grumbling anxious thing instead of the all consuming it was moments ago. Jason absent-mindedly rubbed his hand where he felt the warmth of the green that stayed with him before he stepped into a sparsely lit room.

Glowing green Lazarus water and blood was spewed and mixed across the walls, a chaotic clash of neon and maroon that stunk of copper and acid. There was a figure wailing in the middle of the room as more green leaked from an open wound on its chest. No, not just an open wound, a vivisection. His vision tinted harshly once more as he slowly made his way to the restrained figure.

A man, most likely the same age or younger than him, with snow white hair, tanned skin that looked almost blue-tinted, glowing freckles in the shape of constellations, and green-green-green unseeing eyes as they spilled cold tears. Jason gently wiped the tears away as if pulled by instinct, and cooed softly with and audible echo in his chest. The Pit had never felt like this, not even in his most justified rages. It had never felt this soft either.

The man cried harder as he tilted his cheek further into Jason's bloody fingerless gloves, a pitiful whine escaping his throat as he begged without words. Jason doesn't know why it was so important for him to get this man his king out and to safety, to care for him, but he knew denying that instinct would only hurt him in the future. There was a warmth building under his fingertips before he pulled them slowly away from the freckled skin, the man gasping and blinking rapidly trying to find him again.

scared-help-afraid

There was a rumble deep in Jason's chest as if the soothe the man, and it seemed to work. The strained shoulders relaxed slightly and allowed Jason to move his (clawed?) fingers to the thick iron cuffs with strange electricity running through them. With a clenched jaw, he ripped the metal in half for each restraint, barely holding back the green before pulling needle and thread from somewhere in the room. The man didn't react to being stitched up, but whimpered when Jason's hands left his chest. A green and purple bruised hand shot out to bring his palm back, and Jason murmured softly while interlacing their fingers.

RAGE-PROTECT-HELP

grateful-safe-help?

HELP-RAGE-PROTECT

The being slumped into his arms as Jason pulled him close—the blue-tinted man weighed less than a bag of chips.

They deserved to suffer for the horrific acts they committed to his king the man in his arms. The Pit and him agreed on that.

With a gruff, Jason adjusted to pull off his jacket and cover the weeping wound of the man. He pulled him into a bridal-style carry before making his way out of the horror room, stepping over freshly dead and dying bodies. There was more blood in the previously white hallways than there was in the room he came from, and he wasn't gentle about stepping over still-alive scientists and agents. He ended up crushing skulls under his steel toed boots when the Pit snarled for their blood, but the rest wound bleed out and die slowly.

.

.

.

Masterpost, Pt 1

[dirty-jammies]

Late Night Desires PART 2! ✨💗🌙

Astarion x Fem!Chubby!Reader x Halsin

(Reader is AFAB and is referred to with she/her pronouns and terms like "good girl". )

AN: Thank you all SO much for all the wonderful comments and likes on part 1! And a super-duper big thank you to everyone that voted in the poll! 😁 Don't worry, I intend on writing more for these dudes, so if your favourite poll option didn't win, look lout for it in a future fic! I hope part 2 is to your likings! This is super-horny, super-filthy, and super-delicious... Just like our favourite bloodsucking twink and bear daddy~ Enjoy!

Lying back on the soft grass, you bit your lip as you watched the two men above you appreciate each other's bodies with their hands, lips locked in a passionate kiss. Astarion’s soft, pale hands exploring the swells of Halsin’s muscles, and Halsin's huge hands sliding down the slender curve of Astarion's waist. 

You were still feeling the gentle waves of residual pleasure wash over you from your previous orgasm, sweat cooling on your skin in the midnight air, but you could feel yourself getting excited again watching the two men. You dropped a hand between your thick thighs and whimpered as you brushed your oversensitive pussy, soft and wet and relaxed from Halsin's expert fingering. Your noise alerted the two elves and they parted from their kiss, looking down at you.

“Poor little thing,” Astarion cooed with sarcastic pity, “needing more already, are you?”

You trailed your gaze down Halsin’s body, over his broad chest, down his stomach that was mouthwatering layers of muscle and fat, down the hair-dusted treasure trail where it disappeared into his leather leggings which looked to be on the verge of bursting at the seams thanks to the very obvious erection the druid was sporting.

“I am, but I’m not the only one,” you said with a smile and extended your leg, using it to brush over Halsin’s covered cock. The druid let out a quiet groan at the treatment and you made your desire known, “I… I want to take both of you, with my mouth, and with my…”

“A wonderful idea,” Halsin praised and leaned over you, dragging the pad of his thumb over your soft lips, “I'd love a chance to feel your sweet mouth, little one.”

With his considerable strength, Halsin helped you flip over onto your stomach, letting out a pleased rumble at the view, “What a treat… So supple and round,” he remarked, moving to your front, “like a decadent dessert for us.”

“Isn’t she the sweetest?” Astarion purred and took a handful of your thick ass, fingernails sinking into your soft skin and making you whimper at the light, pleasurable pain, “Mm… she’s still leaking back here.” You whimpered as Astarion’s hand came down to cup your pussy. You gasped harshly as he laid a firm smack over it, making blood rush to your face in embarrassment at the feeling and the lewd, wet noise it made alongside Astarion’s accompanying laughter.

Halsin took your face in his hand and made you look up at him. He smiled at your docile, doe-eyed expression, “Are you ready?” You nodded and you could see his eyes darken with lust, “Do you think you can be a good girl and take all of me?” Again, you nodded, more eagerly this time, the praise tickling your brain and making you squish your thighs together. You licked your lips and smiled up at Halsin.

“Such a needy thing, isn’t she?” Astarion teased, and you could hear him stroking himself again, getting himself hard again, “I’m glad you decided to join us, Halsin, perhaps together, we’ll finally be able to satisfy her.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and looked over your shoulder at your vampiric lover, “Oh, right, I’m the insatiable one…” you teased right back and Halsin laughed heartily.

“I have a good feeling we’ll all end the night satisfied, little one, now please look back this way,” he gently guided your face back towards him, and your eyes widened as you saw he had lowered his leggings, letting his manhood free from its leather confines at last, “Do you like what you see?”

You moaned at the sight and could hear Astarion groan from behind you as well. It was at least nine inches of thick, hard cock, with a soft bush of hair at the base and two heavy-looking balls that seemed to be sloshing with potent seed. You felt your mouth water and you swallowed the drool accumulating in your mouth before you boldly leaned forward and kissed it, feeling the thick vein along the bottom throb at the affection. Halsin’s hand cradled your cheek as though you were made of glass, “I will try to be gentle, but you are making it quite difficult to hold back…” he warned and lined his cock up with your pretty, pouty lips.

You could feel your arousal growing once more as you slowly took Halsin’s length into your mouth. You felt the bulbous head slide past your tongue, his foreskin sliding past your lips. You moaned around his length at the musky, masculine smell coming from his loins, and you felt a dribble of your slick slide down your inner thighs.

“Very good, darling,” Astarion praised softly and you moaned around Halsin’s cock as you felt Astarion line up his own sizable cock with your drooling pussy, “now get ready,” he quickly slammed home, his narrow hips colliding with your cushy ass with a loud smack, and you cried out around Halsin’s thick length. You heard Astarion shudder out a moan behind you, “So fucking hot and wet, you’re simply divine, darling…”

You felt your mind grow fuzzy, thoughts turning into pleads for ‘more, harder, faster!’ Halsin’s slow, careful drag of his cock over your tongue to bump against the back of your throat contrasted Astarion’s greedy, fast slams into your cunt, your body jiggling with the movement.

“Such a perfect girl,” Halsin sighed as you worked your tongue along his frenulum, “taking the both of us so well~”

Astarion’s hands sank into the plush fat of your waist, holding you steady as his hips drilled into you, “Nnh, yes, such a perfect little pet, with such a delicious body… tell us who this body belongs to, darling~” he purred.

Halsin withdrew his cock long enough for you to gasp in a breath and cry out “You! It belongs to you! Astarionnnh~Hah-Halsin!!” Your eyes rolled back as Halsin stuffed your mouth once more, this time sliding all the way into your throat, his huge hands holding your jaw as you did your best not to gag on the huge cock. You could taste his salty precum smearing on your tongue. Delicious.

“You’re so good… so good,” Halsin growled, giving himself over to his pleasure, “Gods, I’m close…”

You moaned around him, eager to get a taste of his cum, when Astarion thrust inside you as deep as he could go, grinding, /grinding/ against your sweet spot and making you whine around the length stuffing your throat. Astarion landed a hard smack on your ass and you whimpered, hearing him grunt.

“Do you want to switch? You did want to breed her, after all.” he teased breathily.

Halsin nodded tightly and you felt your jaw go slack as he withdrew his cock. You saw it, dripping with your saliva and his delicious precum, twitching hard. You whined as Astarion pulled out of you slowly and you felt his hand pet your back soothingly, “Don’t worry, love, you won’t be empty for long~”

The two men switched positions, you smiled seeing how creamy Astarion’s cock had become as he fucked you. Slick evidence of your arousal was glistening on his cock, making it shine in the moonlight. Astarion’s hand wove into your hair and you leaned forward, licking his cock from base to tip.

“Dirty girl,” he rasped with a grin, “tasting yourself on my cock?”

You hummed an affirmative, looking up into his beautiful red eyes as you continued cleaning him. You felt Halsin’s hands spread you open and your breathing hitched, feeling the druid’s cock prod the back of your thighs.

“She’s so wet,” he remarked, “are you ready for me?”

Astarion let you go long enough for you to look back at Halsin. You could see him stroking his cock, staring at your twitching pussy with an almost intoxicated look. 

“Yes, Halsin!” You panted, shaking your hips and making your ass jiggle for him, “I want you to fuck me, too!”

Astarion moaned and urged you on, “And then what, pet?”

You whimpered needily, wanting Halsin’s cock to stuff you full, “Y-your cum… I want you to cum inside me, Halsin, please!”

“Very good, darling,” Astarion praised and the both of you watched as Halsin’s face gained a look of absolute rapture as he sunk into you. You choked on a loud moan as you felt his massive manhood slip into your wet pussy, dragging along your juicy, twitching walls. You felt a droplet of drool leak out of your mouth.

“Silvanus preserve me,” Halsin groaned, long and loud, “you feel so good, so tight…” he hissed, stilling when he was only half-way in.

Astarion turned you back to face him, and he traced his thumb over your mouth, collecting the drop of drool you let slip on the pad of his thumb before he pushed it back in your mouth. He sneered down at you, but you could see the love in those crimson eyes, “/Messy/ girl, you’re already falling to pieces, aren’t you?” He pressed his leaking cockhead back to your lips, “Suck.”

With bleary eyes, you obeyed, moaning around Astarion’s cock as Halsin continued to press into you. You whined as the druid finally bottomed out; you felt his heavy balls pressing tightly to your oversensitive little clit, you felt his huge hands bracing himself on your squishy waist, but most distracting and pleasurable of all, you felt his flaring cockhead kiss your cervix, his girth pressing tightly against your walls! You flexed around him, begging Halsin to fuck you stupid while your mouth was occupied.

Soon you were rocked back and forth, the men settling on a pattern that rocked you back on the druid’s massive cock, then forwards so Astarion could fuck your throat. They made sure neither your mouth or pussy was empty at a time. You clutched the grass beneath you like a lifeline, you felt like you were losing your higher brain functions. Nothing else mattered in this beautiful moment other than the pleasure you felt, and the pleasure your lovers were taking from you, greedily fucking your sweet little holes like their lives depended on it.

You heard Halsin let out a deep groan and his hands migrated from your waist to your hanging belly, holding you tight, his own warm belly and chest pressing into your back as he took you in a more bestial position. The thought of Halsin losing control as he pounded you, losing his own grip on propriety and fucking you like a wild animal, made you scream around Astarion’s length and the vampire withdrew from you briefly and cupped your jaw as you whined long and loud, announcing your second orgasm of the night. Halsin fucked you through it, rasping and grunting filthy praise all the while.

“Perfect girl, cum on my cock, such a good girl. Surely you can do it again for me, yes?”

You nodded helplessly as you convulsed around his pistoning cock, drool freely dripping from your parted lips, “Uh huh!” you could only whine in reply.

With a long index finger and thumb, Astarion squished your chubby cheeks together, making you pout. You heard him click his tongue down at you, “What a greedy girl we have~ Already cumming again?” he used his other hand to guide his cock to your mouth, lightly slapping your cushiony lips with his angry red cockhead, “help me cum and we’ll see to that third orgasm you need.”

Haslin let out a breathy laugh from behind you, groping your soft ass as he slowed his pace, letting you recover a bit, “Third, fourth… however many she wishes!”

“You’re already spoiling her!” Astarion whined, but you could hear his smile, even when you closed your eyes to obediently take his cock back onto your tongue, “Though she does beg to be spoiled, doesn’t she? To be pampered and fucked full all day long. Thaaat’s a good pet~” he cooed to you as his fingers wound into your soft tresses.

With a nod from you, the two men resumed their steady pace. Astarion in, Halsin out. Halsin in, Astrarion out… The noises you three were making filled the air around you; your sweet, muffled whines mixed with Astarion’s low voice spitting vile taunts mixed with sincere, divine praise, and Halsin’s rough, almost animalistic growls and grunts as he became more and more desperate. The symphony of your voices was accompanied by the filthy, wet noises of Astarion fucking your sloppy mouth, and Halsin drilling your gushing, oversensitive pussy. You felt your breasts and stomach swinging under you with every movement, felt Halsin’s broad hips slapping your cushy ass with every deep thrust he gave, dragging his heavy cock along your sweet spot before it squeezed against your cervix. You felt his heavy balls kiss your hard little clit before he dropped a hand under you to circle it, making your eyes roll back. You wondered if you would cum again before the men did?

You didn’t have long to ponder that before you heard Astarion hiss out a strained warning, “Fuck, darling, I’m going to cum,” he pulled your hair back hard and you whined in pleasurable pain. You looked up blearily into Astarion’s gorgeous red eyes that were burning with intense lust, “I’m going to shoot straight down your throat, you will swallow every last drop,” he ordered, withdrawing for a moment so you could breathe, “then you’ll thank me for the meal. Understand?” he grinned sharply as you nodded, his smile nearing on crazed, and he licked his lips before plunging down your throat. 

Your eyes rolled back in your head, Halsin continuing to pound you while you felt Astarion release pump after pump of hot, bitter cum right down your throat. The vein on the underside of his manhood throbbed against your tongue. The vampire’s head rolled back and he let out a long, beautiful moan as he fed you. Halsin slowed down his pace for a moment, letting you swallow the thick fluid as AStarion withdrew his spent cock.

Good, obedient girl that you were, you smiled up at him hazily and licked your lips, “Thank you for the meal, Astarion~” you panted, showing him your empty mouth.

“Perfect pet,” Astarion praised and caressed your beautiful, soft face, catching his breath, “Now, let dear Halsin finish you off!” he nodded back at Halsin and you cried as the druid started up at a punishing pace.

You writhed beneath him, sweat dripping onto the grass under you as your toes curled in the night air. Both you and Halsin were beyond the point of words, just crying and moaning and grunting and screaming as pleasure overtook you. Halsin took greedy handfuls of your plush fat, using it as an anchor to pull you back on his cock, drilling deeper and deeper, hitting spots inside you never touched before. It was all too much! Too much! The feeling of that massive cock fucking you with intent to breed, Halsin’s strong arms holding you in place while Astarion’s hands now held you as if you were a delicate, priceless gem, the taste of Astarion’s cum at the back of your throat. You couldn’t hold back your voice, whiny and far-gone.

“Gonna cum gonna cum gonna cum- Halsin! HALSIIIN!” You screamed into the night as your body bent, thrashing as orgasm overtook you. Your vision went white as Halsin growled behind you.

“Gods, yes! Cum on this cock!” He railed you through it, body on top of yours, nearly pressing you into the dirt as you squirted around his cock, “take my seed, take all of my- oh fuck-!”

You felt yourself spasm in your lovers’ hold, cumming again, gentler, as you felt Halsin empty a torrent of hot, sticky cum into your womb. Halsin gasped for breath as he gave a few final thrusts, as if ensuring every drop of his seed was safely planted in you. He slowly pulled out and you whined at the sudden loss, and you held a hand over your well-used pussy to make sure nothing leaked out. 

Halsin laid back on the grass, and Astarion guided your boneless body to lay next to him. You immediately curled around Halsin, one of his strong arms wrapping protectively around your shoulders. Astarion joined his other side, also being pulled to cuddle on top of the druid.

You sighed blissfully. Your sweat had cooled in the night air, but you were warmed by the men near you, and you could tell the feeling was more than mutual. The moon and stars shone above you, providing light so you could see your lovers’ satisfied smiles. 

Astarion fluffed his hair, which had gotten more than a bit tousled during your fun, “Well, Halsin, I sincerely hope you enjoyed yourself as much as we did,” he propped his chin up on one of Halsin’s pecs and gave him a coy smile, “I would very much like to do this again~”

Haslin let out a quiet laugh and his chest rumbled with it, “If the both of you would be willing to have me again, I would love that.”

You nuzzled into Halsin’s neck and pressed a warm kiss to his sticky, sweat-lined skin, “Mmh~ I’d love that. There’s so much I’d love to try with you two.”

Astarion grinned and reached over, tasking your hand in his own, “Really, darling~? Do tell us, then. What could possibly be on your mind?” Halsin and Astarion looked down at you, curious with a faint spark of renewed lust.

You shook your head, “I’ll tell you next time,” you let out a yawn as fatigue creeped up on you, “but… don’t let me stop you two from fooling around if you’re not spent yet.” you added with a playful smile.

Halsin pinched your cheek and you giggled, “Naughty little thing,” he teased, but he cast a glance at Astarion, “Though… if you wanted, Astarion…?” he left the question hang.

Astarion huffed and hid his blushing face on the other side of Halsin’s neck, “And you call me insatiable!? I need my beauty rest!”

Halsin laughed and pulled you and Astarion closer, “Well then, beauties, why don’t we rest? We can regroup with the others in the morning.”

You and Astarion agreed, and snuggled up to the cuddly druid until the sun eventually bathed your bodies in it’s warm embrace. Though you had to admit, now you would prefer the embrace of your vampire and your druid any day.

~💞~

AN2: Oh!! Taglist! I'm gonna tag everyone who liked to the taglist post I made PLUS everyone who commented about part two on the first part lmao~

@bamblepee @nova-starion @rosaliemizzrym @cross-stitch-grandma @serendipitous-fernweh @winnieshitposts-blog @audreonne @missusbarnes-rogers @darkprincemara @iwannabealocalcryptid @flowerfoxsstuff @teramjna @huuvu @somewhereonliknow @exophelia @absinthe-adonis @aquarivsrot

[astralnymphh]

Okay I have this little thought of fucking ellie in lotus position and I literally can’t get it out of my head

Sorry if this is weird I just feel like you could do it justice if you’re comfortable😭

omgg lotus position. that's like.. perfect for ellie cause she loves you straddling her and boobs.. and grabbing handfuls of ass meat. I'll do a little blurb on this but honestly might incorporate this position in a future fic. this feels a bit lazy but i swear im just saving my brain as i start saccharine saturations 2. MDNI ౨ৎ

lotus position with ellie ౨ৎ

let me paint the perspective on this blank canvas. the girl before you, ruby–eared as the budding roses of spring and swamping her sights in you, intoxication, a budding lust to be. the absolute hormone spurts you get whenever ellie drags you atop her lap is utterly intoxicating, utterly. you, sitting vis–à–vis. both of you undertaking the nude. her knees, bent to a perfect splay that opens a little seat just for you, a fleshy, cushiony, linen bedsheet crater. fair skin awash in tawny light, courtesy of the floor lamp abutting to the bed. a light that also reflects a shimmer string off the solid base of her strap, diagonally rested between those manspread legs. chartreuse green encapsulated in a bedroom–eye droopy–lid gaze surrounded by reeds of her deep amber esque lashes curving so softly from her puffy waterlines. an expression that says 'come sit on my lap pretty girl.' while she loiters one of those lusty hands to pose and dab her thigh gently– rippling the tight skin barely and croaking a smoky whisper, "c'mon baby, m' all ready for you now." as her lip corners tug a toothy smirk, folding the bottom lip under to bite. it coils back out, so pliantly, she lures you in tender.

ellie would fuck you so good in lotus. maddenly so, spires of her knobby digits grapple and hook on your ass, soothing softness leaven as milk bread. hairs on her arms, bitsy and tickle inducing, lie plumb from your thighs to your hips and are clasped in the soft layer of elasticity. she kneads your butt like malleable dough and spreads you wide on her pumping cock, lubricous laces lashing from your stuffed slit. the pressure exuded in her fingertips line your ass so perfectly to her roll of hip, she can fuck up into your cunt just right. in this angle, she deepens within you, and you take her unconditionally. plop, plop, palp, the slickening of cum glazes your underside thoroughly and crafts a wet slap whenever her dense hips rut into your cushy pussy lips. in your blurred numbness she finds a mania in seeing you all dog–panting and white–eyed, craning close and curling those sun–baked lips flush on your breast, "fuck that pussy back on me, mhmm, good girl.." brushing skin with her muffled coax. you bounce your bottom in sync with hers, creating a on beat rhythm, but in return her cock bottoms out deeper inside to the point of bulging a knob in your belly. on an ellie's perspective note, she fucking loves suckling upon your tender, risen nipples during sex, so this position basically emboldened her to put those eager lips to use. her gob caves an 'o' shape over your nipple and excitedly flicks her textured tongue over the nub, ever the more inflaming your pussy with euphoria. you card knuckles in her tuft of auburn hair, yanking a grip of locks to which ellie gives your nipple a teensy bite, getting you to yelp. ugh, can't you just visualize that view? a thin gap between your humping bodies, skin clumping and swelling, her perky boobs jiggling with the movements produced, peak of her russet pubes browsing over the harness base– slap! a red sting of fury nips you in the buttcheek, literally. ellie can't get enough of your rump, popping off your breast a moment and slanting her body aside to catch a glimpse of it, freak, indulging another slap. anyways, holding your hips captive to where she needs them, she pipes all the delectable cream she can out of you, grazing that bumpy vein shaft along your ribbed walls with a passion to spite 'unpassions', she coagulates a burning knot inside you, haste without chaste. girl will commit ungodly things to prove how helpless to climax you are on her thickset dick, popping her mouth off your tit to provoke in words of hypocrisy, "feels so good, huh? going dumb on my cock? yeahh? haha, god, can't even see your eyes, fuck." i claim hypocrisy, because we all know damn well with our combined minds that this girl gets dumb on your pussy, folding up her lips to contain the slobber threatening to make her look pussydrunk.

and she is most definetely pussydrunk, moreso in this position, climbing up to a high real fast. chromatically, her moan rises, "uhhhhhhh, yeahahhaaa.. ohh fuck."

how she looks cumming in this position? electrifying. her fawn freckled cheeks overcast in a flush of coral pink, gaping her lips wide and scrunching skin in all the right areas. the chafing pleasure tweaking her clit makes for a good fucking orgasm. her lids embracing the reflex of scantly shutting and gazing up at you, the green in her eyes somehow more vibrant and her pupils blown to a new moon. she just whines a grunty, "hahhh– mhhh, mhhh, yeessss." in a warble while twitching her last final blows against your beaten cervix, cockhead mashing that gummy donut. scarred as your shoulderblades take the toll ten clawing nails can bestow, her fingers whiten away the pigment with the strength issued into your flesh. her own pussy convulses and gathers up a bit of milky cum to streamline in strings along her perineum, dripping like dew onto the bed. you're ways from comparable, though, spraying your clear orgasm all over her. she'll praise you through her tale of moans, groaning, "uhhh yeah, get that cock all filthy– filthy, filthy, filthhh– fuuckkkk.." strands of her hair stick in an untidy manner beyond her hairline, shadowing that gloss of sweat narrowly. then, she dwindles down to a smile, a smile to bury. burying kisses in your sternum, she peppers up and up with a sudden awash of elation walking hand–in–hand with exhaustion. shaky nubs of her fingertips press and drag sweaty over the blushed marks given in her high, almost writing an apology to the poor scratches. looser skin of your back bulges and ribs between her waxy digits, cooling with a pasty ache. the weeping of pores after sex was no joke, no lie. and ellie intended to lick every puny dollop of it from your body. "l'mme clean you up.." she mumbles droney as a meadow bee barming your ears with a measly melody, voice muted in your neck. you reply, fumbly out of breath, "oh, a bath? i could really use a–" the chambré stamp of her tongue unfurls blunt to your neck, nudging up a spit trail along the skin. by clean you up, she just means lick you like a dog. i personally live for ellie doing that. you bumble, "ellie?" and she just garbles back, lips obviously occupied, "let me, mhh, clean you up.." and slipping a gritty chuckle in the depths of her throat, shrugging her shoulders a bit.

don't even get me started on ellie licking you up and down after sex.

[alisblackgf]

hello lovely, hope all's good! May I request Hobie period comfort? Reader's started their period and is NOT felling good at all. They're just nauseous, have a horrible headache, back pain, boob pain, cramps, a slight fever (I get period fevers), and the list goes on. And he's feeling real bad for lovely? He comforts her, makes her favorite snacks, reads aloud to her so that she can nap.

If you get to this, thanks a bunch!!

(honey anon)

YES YES SURE OF COUrse! (thanks for requesting honey anon i hope to see you more in the future!!)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hobie brown x afab!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff :)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: hobie takes care of reader during their period!

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: writing about this man isn’t enough i need to inhale him (i didn’t know if you wanted headcanons or a fic so i did a little bit of both!) also i tried to write him in his accent but it is so HARD and it looks kinda dumb so excuse that

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: the sickness section may trigger emetophobia (fear of vomit), viewer discretion is advised!

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

if you two just started dating, he’d ask you the basic questions.

such as: what size pads, favorite candies, what you want him to do, etc.

but as time goes on, he’s on top of everything.

he remembers all of your preferences and favorites.

he’s fine with you being grumpy, he has a lot of patience for you and will do whatever you need him to.

“go away, hobie,” you groan.

“sorry, love, ‘m not goin’ anywhere.”

“my insides feel like they’re collapsing,” you complain, hugging your stomach and curling into fetal position.

“i know, doll. li’l ol’ hobie’s here to fetch whatever your heart desires.”

“li’l ol’ hobie?” you laugh, forgetting your grumpiness for a second, which makes him smile.

he did mean what he said, though. he will get you anything.

if you like being read to sleep, he’ll get an assortment of books that you like.

he’ll read them to you at your very request! just say the words.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧

if you’re experiencing pain, just tell him where and he’ll massage the area for you.

if your chest is too tender to massage, he’ll just cuddle you and rub circles into your back.

however, if your pain is intense, he’ll go out and grab you some pain killers.

he’ll even buy you a heating pad should you need it (you probably do).

“(y/n), ‘m back. got you some stuff, too.”

“really?”

“yeah, got you some ibuprofen and a heatin’ pad.”

he loves taking care of you and he loves that you let him.

he’ll probably even say some stupid jokes to make you laugh (and they’re probably not funny).

his reasoning is “laughter is the best medicine”.

if you don’t laugh, though, he’ll tickle you.

so laugh.

𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

if you get fevers, he’ll wet a rag with cold water, fold it, and put it on your forehead.

he gets you fever medication, mainly tylenol because he assumes you wouldn’t like the taste of the liquid medicine.

if you feel nauseous, he’s there rubbing your back and comforting you.

he tells you to let him know if you’re going to vomit so he can accompany you.

if you do end up vomiting, though, he’s right there with you.

if you have long/medium-length hair, he holds your hair back as you do your business into the toilet.

if you have short hair, he rubs your back.

whatever length hair you may have, he praises you.

“there you go, dove, let it all out,” he coos.

when you’re done, he gives you a cup of water.

𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬!

it’s nighttime, and hobie was urging you to sleep. even though your body was practically wrapped around him (which was usually all you needed to fall asleep), the pain kept you awake. you were already facing him, looking over the features you adored so much. he was resting peacefully, you really didn’t want to wake him up, but you really couldn’t sleep.

“hobie?” you asked, attempting to wake him up.

“mm, yeah, love?” he mumbled, half-awake. he was so cute you could almost laugh.

“sorry to wake you, but could you read me to sleep?”

“mhm,” he responds. “gimme a sec.”

his willingness to do what you asked without questioning it made butterflies swarm in your stomach. he groggily got up to go retrieve a book.

“want anythin’ in particular?” he asks you.

“no, surprise me.”

he nods and picks one out.

he sits down on the edge of the bed as you get snuggled back under the covers. as he begins to read, you find yourself more relaxed than ever. hobie must’ve loved you to death with the way he was caring for you, so you made sure to let him know you felt the same.

“i love you, hobie.”

he stopped reading and looked at you. your eyes were already closed and your breathing steady. he smiled at your resting figure.

“i love you too.”

UGH i love him

tags: @pr0wlerpunk

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: I slept for like ten hours and it was fucking wild.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You watch the long needle slide out from under your skin. You don’t feel it much. That man, Lloyd, loops the tube around the IV bag stand. You sit in the bed still, disoriented and dull. You can feel the tension buzzing off of him, as if he’s holding himself back. That scares you more than anything he’s done. 

Before you can say or do anything, your stomach growls. The tumble is painful as your insides squeeze violently. He looks at you and takes your hand, tugging you towards the edge as he snickers. 

“Hungry, jellybean?” He teases, “come on. I’ll make you a nice omelet.” He pulls until you shimmy across the bed. You turn your legs out and can’t help but use his strength to stand. He’s patient as he easily hauls you up. “You okay, babykins? I could carry you. Like before.” 

“N-no,” you try to wiggle your hand free but his grip is unbreakable. He squeezes and you quit your resistance. 

“You might be a bit groggy, that’s normal. The smoke, the meds--” 

“Meds?” 

“Well, I slipped a bit extra in the bag,” he shrugs as he glances over at the IV, “just so you could sleep.” 

You look at him, your horror burning from your eyes. He grins proudly and swings your arm, turning to lead you to the door. You take short steps, muscles stiff and achy, shoulders wracked from sleeping on your back. You look down at yourself and shudder; at least you’re still wearing your own clothes. 

“I’ve been doing cooking classes. I can do a florentine that will blow your tits off,” he boasts as he angles you through the door. 

The hall is airy and echoey. The house must be huge. You get that sense easily. You don’t need to go around and count the rooms. He takes you down the long hallway and you stop at the top of a set of stairs. They bend in the middle but more corning, there’s a large space between each. They’re polished to a shine and look slippery as the morning reflects off of them. 

“Just a step at a time,” he goads as you latch onto the railing.  

You put a foot down and grip both him and the railing. Another tide of wooziness comes over you. It could be what he gave you or your days of restriction, but it’s too much. The world is too much. 

“That’s it, baby,” he coos as you take a second step down.  

This is strange. It reminds you of a movie you watched as a kid with a maze and twisting and turning walkways and a taunting villain. You’ve awoken in his trap and you see no escape in sight. 

You slip on the third and let out a squeak as you feel yourself falling. He’s quick to catch you, scooping you up easily even in the narrow space. He lifts you and continues down swiftly, bringing you onto flat ground. You murmur and rub your head as you feel his heartbeat against your arm. 

You feel a tickle in your hair and hear him take a deep breath. Is he smelling you? You repress a shiver at the thought as your eyes struggle to focus on the shapes all around you.  

He carries you into another room, a kitchen, as spacious and sleek as any other part of the strange house. A white marble counter lines two walls and wraps around into full C, marking off the cooking space. On the other side, there’s glass table in an abstract, asymmetric shape with metal frame chairs around it. The whole place is out of one of those design magazines. All impractical at the expense of aesthetic. 

He sits you in one of the chairs, it’s just a rigid as you expect. He stays bent, holding you by the shoulders until your hold yourself up. He drags his hands down your arms as he reluctantly pulls away. You flutter your lashes and rub your eye sockets, trying to block out your reality. 

“My sleepy bean,” he beams and plants a kiss on the top of your head. “So how about it? Eggs florentine? Or are you in the mood for something a bit sweeter? I’ve perfected my crepes.” 

You grumble and drop your hands slowly, crossing your arms as a chill rolls through you. You feel it pricking in your chest and across your skin. You’re not wearing a bra and your tee shirt is thin. You keep your arms locked. 

You listen to him moving around. You don’t know what to do. You’re too weak to do anything. Even if you could get on the other side of the walls, you have no idea where you are. Where help could be. 

You rock as your fear bubbles up. Why is he doing this? Why does he think you want him? Why you? Of all people. You mind your business, you keep your head down, eyes to yourself... you don’t deserve this. 

You glance over at him as he starts to hum. Your lip quivers as you watch his shoulders blades stretch the fabric of his shirt. He’s a bit ridiculous in a full set of satin pajamas, the dark black speckled with a subtle grey leopard print. He’s too much. 

You turn your head straight and let it hang. You resign yourself to helplessness. You have to be logical about this. You can’t spark his suspicion to soon. You have to wait for a window and then... figure that out, you guess. You don’t like uncertainty. You have a routine and you keep to it. That’s what keeps you safe. Or so you thought. 

“...wise men say, only fools rush in...” he sings softly and you wince. The lyrics of the Elvis ballad make your skin crawl. He’s actually deranged. You don’t know him, you're strangers. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I know tree nuts are a no go,” he chimes as he whisks, turning to you with a broad smile.  

You blink at him. How does he know that? 

“Don’t think you’ll be needing any but I also got penicillin on the no go list and the latex thing... there’s alternatives,” he chuckles and you furrow your brow. “How’s that ticker doing? You been taking lots of iron?” 

Your body hollows out. How much does he know about you? How? You can guess he’s snooped around your medical records. Obviously, he’s a man with criminalistic leanings. Is this even his house? Has he taken you to a fortress he commandeered by force? Is there some terrified family bound in the basement? Is there a basement? 

He continues to futz around the kitchen as you curl your shoulders down and chew on your lips. Speaking of your heart, it’s beating again, racing, almost painfully. You’re a mouse trapped in the corner by the feline with his bristly whiskers. 

Your eyes wander over to the large windows and you stare out at the curated landscape. The property is beautiful and lush. You imagine a whole team maintains the perfectly trimmed hedges and colourful blooms. The stone mosaic pathway and the leafy archway over a bench. It’s like a dream, more so, a twisted nightmare painted in hues of fantasy. 

A plate clinks down before you and a sweet aroma brings you back inside. You face forward as Lloyd steps back on his heel, watching you with anticipation. You look at him then the plate. He pulls out a chair and plops himself down, planting his elbow as he cups his chin and watches. 

“Let me know what you think,” he insists. 

You take a breath and unlock your arms. Slowly, you drag them apart and take the thick butter knife and long fork. The cutlery feels too big for your small hands. You lean forward as the drizzle of dark syrup across the rolled crepe lures you in. Your stomach roars noisily and he giggles. 

“Aw, you must be starving,” he muses, “please eat, baby, I don’t want you to ever go hungry again.” 

You exhale through a ripple of disgust. You cut into the thin crepe and into the filling. Slice off the end of the roll and scoop it up with the filling. You carefully open your mouth around the fork and take a bite. Your eyes flit up to meet Lloyd’s as his gaze sticks on you. There are flames in his blue irises. 

You pull your mouth off the fork in embarrassment as he hums. He’s a weird, weird man. All of this is weird. Surreal. 

You look down at the butter knife and contemplate the gold cutlery. It’s heavy, it would hurt if you used the handle to give him a conk, but the blade is too dull to do much. It can slice through a crepe but wouldn’t do much on meat and bone. You don’t think you could do it, either. The thought of hurting others is just unnatural. 

“Is it good? Tried my own combination,” he explains happily, “dark chocolate syrup, not too much sugar, some softened cream cheese in the middle with black cherry jam.” 

You swallow and look around for something to wipe your lips. Short of a napkin, you lick your lip and clamp them together. He shifts in his chair, an act that makes you feel uncomfortable. 

“Good,” you croak. 

“Oh, wait,” he stands suddenly, “your coffee. Oopsie.” 

He struts away and your stomach mulches the single bite greedily. As much as you want to be stubborn, you’re so hungry. And it’s delicious. It’s better than your usual flavourless fare. You could gobble it all down in a second but you won’t. You carefully cut out another bite as he returns with a tall mug.  

He puts the cup down by your plate. You gulp down a forkful and set down the cutlery. You consider the mug before you take it, the white porcelain marked with the golden outline of a rose above the letter ‘Mrs.’. He has another in his hands, black but with a bowtie above ‘Mr.’. What the hell? 

“Colombian dark roast. A little less caffeine so your heart won’t mind so much,” he says. 

You nod and take the cup. The thought of coffee is enough to override your agitation. You take a sip and hold back a sigh. It’s good. You hate all of this but it’s all so good. You put the cup back and return your attention to the crepes. You pause and glance up at him. He doesn’t have a plate, just his cup. 

“Oh, jellybean, you’re so sweet,” he smirks, “I gotta keep my protein up. I’ll have some eggs and a shake soon. Right now, you just worry about you.” 

You dip your chin down and focus on eating. Small bites. You don’t want to seem too greedy. You don’t want him to see how much you need this. Does he know everything? Of course, he was watching but did he know the days you spent feeling as if your stomach was eating itself? 

He pushes his hair back, trying to tidy the long strands as he watches you, “we’ll get washed up after breakfast. Then you can get settled in and relax. I’ll take care of everything else, alright? You just need to get all dolled up when the time comes,” he explains as he drags his fingertip around the tabletop, “not that you need to do very much.” 

You just chew. What can you say or do? This man is straight up crazy. Not only are you his prisoner, he’s been stalking you. It doesn’t matter when it started, look where it’s ended. No, this can’t be the end. 

“What’s...” you speak before you can think. You shake your head and smother your question with another bite. 

“What? Go on, sugar lips, ask me anything? You wanna know my favourite colour? My favourite song?” His cheeks tint pink as he plays with a button on his pajamas. 

You clear your throat and put down the fork and knife, “what’s going on... later?” 

He tilts his head curiously. 

“The... dress and... doll up?” You repeat his words flatly. 

“That’s a surprise,” he trills as if it should be obvious. “Don’t wanna spoil it, do we?” 

“I guess,” you sit back and fold your hands in your lap. 

“You don’t gotta think about anything, sweet cheeks. You leave the thinking to me. I’m gonna take care of you,” he avows as his hand stretches across the front of his satin shirt. “You just gotta be you.” 

You feel his gaze bearing down on you. You peek up to find his eyes slipping down and you feel them centre on your tee shirt, your nipples poking against the cotton. You hunch your shoulders and cross your arms again. 

“How’s the coffee, jelly bean? You like it?” He tears his attention from your chest. 

“Good, thank you,” you murmur. 

“Ugh, I love hearing your voice,” he puts his coffee down and reaches between his legs. You blanch as he drags his chair closer as he lifts himself. He puts his hand on your knee, stroking with his thumb, “will you call me ‘honey’?” 

You stare at him. Your cheek draw tight and your lips flatten. You want to shake off his touch and scream but that foggy glaze in his eyes deters you. This man is wild. 

“Okay, er,” you gulp tightly and cough, “honey.” 

He hums into a sigh and his hand slips higher on your leg before trail back down, “oh,” he shakes his shoulders, “that tingles. Do it again.” 

You fight not to let your true emotion blaze through. You hug yourself tighter and bite down before you can muster the word, “honey.” 

“Oh, baby, that’s nice,” he winks and sits back, eyes grazing up and down your body, “you cold? You’re all twisted up like a pretzel.” 

You nod. It's an excuse you’ll gladly take. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner, jellybean?” He stands suddenly and you notice the way he tugs on the waistband of his pants. You turn your head, blurring your vision so everything around you is vague. 

He rushes off and you wait. You don’t know what else to do. You’re still too weak to make a move. Whatever he gave you is potent. Or maybe, you’re just too scared to do more than shrink and surrender. 

He returns with a fluffy purple robe in his hands. He comes around the back of your chair and you lean forward to let him drape it around you. He curls his hands over your shoulders and bends over you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“You need more coffee, baby cakes?” He asks as he kneads your shoulders. 

“Still working on it,” you pull away from him and grab the cup, “thank you...” you let the words dangle in the silence, tension piquing, “honey.” 

He sighs and draws away with a tickle up your neck, “mmm, isn’t this wonderful?” 

[cozy-cinnamon-roll]

A Princess' Guide to Interrogating a Radio Demon (Part II)

(read Part I here!)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Charlie, Ler!Vaggie, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, interrogation (in the most playful sense). If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige.

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

First: MAJOR thank you for all the sweet notes and feedback on Part 1 of this fic! I was not expecting such an enthusiastic response, and it really made my week! So grateful to be part of this lovely community 💕

As promised, here is part 2... This one gets a little more intense than the last, but it's still all for fun (and Al can handle it 🤭) So excited to share it with you all!

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Vaggie is never quite sure what she's going to find when she hears a commotion elsewhere in the hotel - especially when it's coming from the direction of Alastor's room.

But nothing could have prepared her for the sight of her girlfriend pinning the most powerful overlord in Hell to the floor, tickling him to hysterics.

"Uhhhh..... Sweetie?"

"He won't tell me where he hid it!"

Vaggie just takes it in for a second. "So you're tickling him?"

"How else am I supposed to get it outta him?!"

"That's an... unconventional method, babe."

Charlie pauses her assault to shoot her girlfriend a deadpan look over her victim (who merely remains sprawled out on the floor beneath her, using his reprieve to take in as much precious oxygen as possible).

"You think I'm stupid enough to threaten real harm on The Radio Demon?"

That remark draws a maniacal little chuckle from the crumpled heap.

"Doesn't sound very effective," Vaggie observes.

But Charlie is too busy growling taunts at her victim again, tazing him in the sides. "Sorry, did I say something funny, giggles? Huh?! Did I?"

Vaggie can't help but smile herself at how hard it is for her girlfriend to keep a straight face during her "interrogation." She pokes and prods and scribbles all over the poor man, until his distinctive cackle echoes from the ceiling. And then she sits back on her heels, practically beaming with delight as he continues to shake with residual giggles.

At one point Charlie flashes her girlfriend a goofy grin. "I really think I'm wearing him down."

"Oh yeah. Absolutely, babe." Vaggie leans back against the doorframe with a smirk. "He really looks like he hates this, doesn't he."

As Charlie goes after his ribs again, Vaggie tilts her head. "He's lost his weird radio buzz."

"Oh!" Charlie abruptly clasps her hands to her chest, eyes wide with sudden worry. "Are you okay, Al?"

"Heh - yes, yes, of course..." While he is indeed too drunk on laughter maintain his usual tinny radio filter, the tiniest hint of a wheeze still edges his voice - which surprises Alastor himself more than anyone. His evil cackle is, after all, one of his signature intimidation techniques, and it's never affected his voice before.

But the uncontrolled, helpless hysterics Charlie's had him clutched in is very different from what he's used to. For all his practice intimidating his victims with a well-timed chortle, it appears his genuine laughter is rather rusty.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?"

Still breathless, Alastor can't help but chuckle at that too. "...Y-you are aware of what an 'interrogation' is, right?"

Charlie's look of concern drops to a mild glare.

"Alright, babe. Step aside." Vaggie curls a dangerous little grin of her own. "I'll handle this."

As he sees Vaggie striding toward him, Alastor scrambles to sit up. "Wait, wait- Vaggie, dear, can't we-" He presses backward, only to find himself cornered between the couch and the coffee table. "Er- can't we talk this over?"

Vaggie crouches down. "You wanna tell me where Angel's speaker is?"

"No."

Fingernails are crawling up both sides before he even registers movement. Poor Alastor is clutched over cackling within seconds.

Charlie may be a surprisingly effective ler, but it quickly becomes clear who taught her: Vaggie is ruthless.

"Get his tummy, that's his weak spot!" Charlie chirps, not even bothering to hide her delight any longer.

"Chahaharlie!!"

Alastor actually feels a spark of legitimate panic as Vaggie's nails find their way to his upper belly, tracing along the lower edge of his ribcage, sending his laughter silent for a moment.

"Hey, if you really want me to stop, you can just tell me what I wanna know."

"YOou cahan-" (gasp) "-PRY it from my-" (brief giggle fit) "-cold, dead-" (wheeze) "-fingers!!"

"Yeah? I'll show you cold, dead fingers..."

Alastor feels a hand slip under his shirt.

"AaaaAAAHH! No, no, Vaggie don't!"

"Oooh, this is a good spot, isn't it?"

"NO don't do that- please please please..."

"What? You don't want me to do this?" Her fingernails skitter across his bare tummy. The poor man can't remember the last time he laughed this hard at anything - which, for someone who literally hasn't dropped his smile for decades, is a pretty high bar to clear. And he's gotta admit, it's the best he's felt in weeks.

"Don't kill him," Charlie pipes up, "I still need him to help run the hotel after this."

"I'm not gonna kill him." Vaggie leans in close. "I'm just gonna keep tickling this sensitive, vulnerable, unbearably ticklish little belly, up and down, over and over, on and on..."

The surge of radio static induced by this one sentence is so intense that it leaves Alastor's own voice virtually incomprehensible for several seconds. He tries to summon a shadow creature, a tentacle, anything, but he's so disoriented the shadows dissipate before they can be directed anywhere.

And that's finally what breaks his resistance. Being rendered helpless under Charlie's fingers is one thing, but being unable to use his powers at Vaggie's mercy is considerably more unnerving.

"OKAY, OKAHAY! I'll talk! I'll talk!"

Vaggie lifts her hands off him, though they remain hovering just a few inches over his torso.

It takes a solid minute for Alastor to catch his breath. "For heaven's sake, you could've just asked me..."

Vaggie scrunches her fingers in the air a couple times, causing the radio demon to fold up like a lawn chair.

"Ack! Nonono I'm kidding!! I'm kidding!" He fights back a fit of nervous giggles.

"Ten seconds to spit it out before I go borrow Nifty's feather duster."

Alastor rolls his eyes. "Oh please. You think you can threaten me with cleaning tools? Don't be ridiculous..."

"Five seconds." Vaggie turns to Charlie. "Hey babe, have you tried his ears?"

A little squeak of microphone feedback. "13th floor hall closet, second-to-top shelf, under a dead rat."

Charlie recoils. "Ew! Al!"

"Pardon, two dead rats." As Vaggie withdraws her hands Alastor sits up, brushes himself off, and reaches for his microphone. "Second one came along as I was arranging the first, and... offered to help."

Charlie just stares at him in horror as he stands and twirls his mic with his usual classy flair, the very picture of eccentric elegance - as if he hadn't just spent the last twenty minutes being reduced to a hysterical mess on the floor.

"Is there any point in warning you not to pull something like this again?" Vaggie mutters, more to herself than the demon.

"No. But you can if it makes you feel better." Alastor grins and offers a hand to Charlie as she gets to her feet. "That was a lovely chat, my dears. Next time I need a good laugh I'll be sure to commit another petty theft."

Charlie rolls her eyes as he turns on his heel and strolls off.

"And let me know if you need help finding the batteries for that speaker," he tosses over his shoulder.

"OH you little piece of-"

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This was such a fun fic to write! Hope you had fun reading it too.... let me know what you think!

💜 - Cozy

[eideticallys]

If you won't do it, I will.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you were so engrossed with images of you kissing Reid and him kissing you back that you forgot one detail—the man could wake up at any moment without you noticing. and he did wake up. You just failed to notice, too busy ogling his pink lips.

genre: fluff & angst

word count: 3.7k

author's notes: another tooth-rotting spencer reid fluff because i said so! you can listen to watch you sleep by girl in red & out of my league by fitz and the tantrums while reading this because those were the songs i listened to while writing this and i think they fit really well with this fic. also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

THAT DARN SUNLIGHT, YOU SHOULD GET YOUR BLINDS FIXED WHEN YOU’RE FREE—THEN IT HITS YOU. You just got it fixed about two weeks ago. You are definitely not in your room.

Scrambling to get up, you were about to jump off whichever bed you ended up in last night when you felt a warm, lithe arm tucked underneath yours, clasping you in a soft embrace like a lover. Now that you think about it, you could feel this person’s hair tickling your chin and their warm breath against your neck.

This is seriously freaking you out. You have no idea who you are cuddling with. Jesus Christ, how many shots did you drink last night? Why would the team let you go home drunk with some guy? 

Gently, you removed the arm wrapped around your waist and slowly pushed away the brunette positioned snugly between your head and shoulder. No way.

The person you are cuddling with is none other than your genius coworker.

Dr. Spencer Reid.

Like any other normal person would do—no person in their right mind would sleep with their coworkers, literally and figuratively—you checked yourself for any presence of clothing. Thank God, you did not completely lose your mind last night and slept with Reid. But it still doesn’t explain why you were wearing his faded Star Trek shirt and one of his pajama pants.

Fucking hell, did he change your clothes for you? You were ready to catch the next plane and disappear at this point.

You were about to start berating yourself for getting into this mess when you noticed how the sunlight made the man beside you look more angelic than usual.

The sun seemed to caress every freckle on his face, the slight pink tinge from the cold morning air, and his hair—although unruly from the tossing and turning during the night—could pass for that of a shampoo model. Pretty.

And his lips.

They looked even more inviting right now, pink and full and parted slightly, as he breathed in and out small puffs of air, finally sleeping soundly following a week of sleepless nights tracking down an unsub. You roamed your eyes once more on his face, starting from his hair and down to where his upper body was covered by an old shirt and the blanket you shared—forgetting your initial dilemma as to how you ended up in bed with your coworker (whom you have a big crush on).

Thank goodness you did not have sex with the one guy you were practically in love with for years. It would be nice to remember every detail of that rendezvous—if that ever happens. You groaned inwardly. This is not the time to fantasize about your coworker, Y/N! You need to get out of bed and out of his house.

But a part of you longs to keep pretending that this is real. That sleeping next to—cuddling, let us be honest—Reid is a usual occurrence. Pursing your lips, you closed your eyes and willed yourself to go back to sleep. Let the future version of you worry about how you will handle waking next to your coworker. Except you could not.

You wished you could tattoo what Reid looked like in the early morning light when he was asleep and without that crease between his brows that seemed to be etched permanently from all the stress of chasing unsubs around the country.

You gotta admit, some days, you yearned for Reid’s eidetic memory. You wished you could have memories of him engraved in your brain that no matter what you do, you could not help it. He would be there. A persistent thought. But then again, you were in too deep with your feelings for the man that you think, even without an eidetic memory, you could definitely recount all your favorite memories with him in a heartbeat.

So, you chose to stay awake.

This is not looking good for you. How else would you explain to someone—your coworker, of all people—who just woke up why you were staring at them while they slept. God, you are down horrendously.

He looked so peaceful like this. Pink cheeks, freckles, and messy hair. He looked so adorable you wished you could pepper his face with kisses and bury your face in his chest. And he is snoring lightly. He is endearing.

You are never getting another chance like this. This will not hurt anyone, right?

Hence, you took in every tiny detail, every freckle, every mole, and every scar you could see. You committed to memory every inch of skin your eyes could reach before the man beside you woke up. You tried to learn by heart what this man looks like when he is untroubled and at peace—what he looks like in the eyes of his future lover when they wake up next to him because that would never be you.

It would never be you.

And that could happen any day now. Reid was bound to find someone who would love him. He was the easiest person to love. He was not a prince charming nor the male lead of a romance novel kind of guy, But he has this boyish charm.

Let us be real. Reid was probably the most uncoordinated guy alive and the most socially awkward person ever. But you were taken by him. The moment he started spewing facts and statistics about anything and everything under the sun, you were done for.

He could talk to you about why worms were called worms and the probability of people dying on their birthdays. And you would listen to him willingly. You were that taken by him. Not to mention, it does not help your case that Reid was probably the prettiest person alive. Well, not literally, but he was that close to being the prettiest person—in your opinion of course.

He had messy, brown curls that looked like they barely experienced the touch of a comb, but you knew they were soft. You knew because every time Reid did something endearing—everything he did was endearing, for you—you always ruffled his hair. This would make him grumble about how he had to fix it again and to which you would reply with a cheeky, You know what a comb is? And Reid would roll his eyes at you.

He had hazel eyes that reminded you of a puppy dog. They were mostly brown with a tinge of green. Most days, it reminded you of being cozy, drinking hot chocolate by the fire. They looked like you were coming home. They always looked like they were pleading for you to stare at them. And you admit you have lost count of the many times Reid had to flick his fingers in front of you with a matching Earth to Y/N and a mini history lesson starting with a Did you know that the history behind that phrase comes from science fiction movies showing people on earth sending messages to people in space?

And Reid always wore the fluffiest cardigans and sweater vests, reminding you of your teddy bear collection at your childhood home. It was crazy how if you saw anyone else in the law enforcement track having the same fashion sense as Reid, you would probably think of them as ridiculous. He wore a pair of black converse sneakers, among other things. For heaven’s sake! Come on! You have to go after seasoned criminals—you at least have to look the part. Right? You have to look imposing and menacing to intimidate them in interrogation rooms. However, the teddy bear look—as you’d like to call it—works so well for Reid. 

What is more, is that Reid fits your ideal type. He is probably the poster boy for it. Ever since you were never into the macho guys and their big muscles. No offense to them because those are their bodies. They look good, but you like your men a little scrawny. You liked lean and really tall men. And Reid is definitely that. He may have failed his fitness test a gazillion times, but the man was in no way, shape, or form, unhealthy. He had the right muscles at the right places and besides, he literally goes after serial killers. He is fit alright.

Lost in your thoughts, you were damn near ogling the man beside you and ended up looking fixedly at his lips. You always thought he had kissable lips, minus the fact that it is probably because you were practically in love with the guy.

You wanted to kiss him so bad it is killing you right now. But in your good conscience, you couldn’t and you wouldn’t. You were completely aware of Reid being a germaphobe, and he has mentioned countless times, kissing is more hygienic than shaking another person’s hand, kissing a sleeping person was out of the books for you. One, the person couldn’t consent because they were unconscious. Two, you were not his lover. Kissing him while he was asleep would be a violation to him. Not to mention, unwelcomed and creepy as hell. Imagine waking up and someone has their lips slobbering your face. Icky!

You were so engrossed with images of you kissing Reid and him kissing you back that you forgot one detail—the man could wake up at any moment without you noticing.

And he did wake up. You just failed to notice, too busy ogling his pink lips.

“If you won’t do it, I will.”

You froze in place.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, you rushed to leap out of Reid’s bed—almost toppling over on the floor in an unladylike fashion. You probably would look worse than Reid when he was huffing and puffing during his last fitness test mandated by the bureau.

But before you could jump out and run away from the man beside you, Reid had all but effortlessly pulled you towards him. You ended up burying yourself into his chest face first as you clutched his shirt to break the fall. It is not even 8 am in the morning yet, and you have managed to embarrass yourself enough for your parents to cut off all ties with you. You would rather dig yourself a hole to die in than be here.

Knowing you have nowhere else to escape, you believe it was time to lie on the bed you made. Sluggishly, you pulled your face away from the lean chest you descended on and peeped up at the angelic face you’d been staring at for the past hour with a sheepish smile.

“H-hi, Reid!”

This is just pure torture. Reid probably knew why you looked like an actual tomato with how red you are, at this moment. He is smiling at you like a cat who ate the canary as he suppressed a laugh.

“I didn’t know you had a clumsy side to you, Y/L/N,” Reid snickered.

What?

“What?” You frowned, which made Reid chuckle some more, shaking his head.

“Nothing,” you scrunch your brows as you tilt your head in confusion, “You just seem so formidable on the field and interrogation room. I’d hate to be the one you’re tracking down,” Reid responded.

“Oh, um,” you grinned as you thought of the perfect rib for the man in front of you, “Just because I’m an FBI agent doesn’t mean I can’t be uncoordinated every now and then. I mean, I know plenty of agents who are quite the klutz on the daily,” you peered at him while he gawps in protest.

“Hey!” He argued, scowling at you.

God, he’s endearing.

“I didn’t mention any names,” you chortled, raising your hand in defense, which made him roll his eyes.

You cracked up at his juvenile actions. In turn, Reid smiled in amusement.

God, you can’t believe that you’re laying on a bed beside Reid. With Reid—like it’s an everyday thing. The smiles. The banter. The laughter. This is crazy. You could get used to this. Sleeping next to him and not just next to him—like the ones you have during your cases where you get to be roommates. No, sleeping on one bed, next to each other. Waking up next to each other. Hearing his gruff morning voice.

You could get used to this.

You can’t.

You shouldn’t.

Reid is your friend. A coworker. You shouldn’t be fantasizing about sleeping and waking up next to him, that is unprofessional. Not to mention, you would be breaking one of the golden rules of the bureau. Never fraternize with a fellow agent on the same unit. 

Seemingly lost in thought, you retreated from the man beside you, as you grimaced.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Reid,” you smiled glumly, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” you patted his cheek gently.

“Is this about you waking up in my bed? I swear no—”

“I know, Reid,” you sighed, “You would never hurt me. I was drunk last night. I’m sure you brought me here because you were too tired to take me home. We just got back from a case and I shouldn’t have drank a lot of shots after all the sleepless nights,” you were slowly sitting up now, “But thank you, Reid. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Always, Y/N.”

This made you smile.

Trust Reid to always make your heart flutter at the tiniest gestures. He’s probably the most genuine and compassionate person you know. It breaks your heart every time you remember that his actions might make you feel butterflies in your stomach, but he does them not because he sees you romantically—he just does them because that is just how he is—caring.

“I’m gonna get up now,” you muttered.

“So, that’s it?”

This made you pause.

“What do you mean?” You looked at him, to which he scoffed.

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“No, I really don’t, Reid,” you scowled, growing irritated at this whole situation, his riddles, and him, for being so perfect, “So, you better tell me because you scoffing at me is slowly infuriating me.”

“You spent an hour, eighteen minutes, and thirty-eight seconds watching me sleep,” Reid shared as matter-of-factly, as if to say "You aren’t slick, Y/N, " which made you sputter in indignation. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if Reid would be considered by the Guinness World Records as the first omniscient person on earth with his brilliant mind. The man has an IQ of 187 for Pete’s sake!

“If that doesn’t tell you anything, then I don’t know what will,” he finished.

“First of all,” you started, “I did not watch you sleep.”

This made the man raise one brow at you. Liar.

“Second of all, if I did watch you sleep and you felt it,” you continued pointedly as if to tell Reid you weren’t watching him sleep. “Shouldn’t you have called me out on it? Why did you let me be then?” 

“I don’t know. Okay?”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” You pushed, crossing your arms.

“I woke up just a few minutes after I felt your stare,” Reid began rambling, “Did you know the reason why we feel someone is looking directly at us is that we have this system called the gaze detection system? I woke up a few minutes after I felt you staring.”

You smiled fondly at the man prattling facts from the back of his brain. This was your favorite version of Reid. The one who knows anything and everything under the sun and can probably talk about them if you asked him to. But right now, you have had enough of that. You won’t allow him to distract his adorable babbling from knowing why he let you stare at him.

Maybe he shares the same feelings with you.

“Reid,” you exhaled, “that still doesn’t explain why you let me watch you sleep.”

This made the man’s cheeks start dusting with pink. You were aware of the fact that it should have been the questioning done the other way around. You literally breached his privacy in his own home but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to know if he feels the same way as you. You wanted to know everything now rather than later. You know you’d probably get rejected but you wanted to get it over with.

“I wanted you to kiss me.”

This made you gasp, eyes widening—you think they were about to come out of their sockets. Reid blushed some more with your shocked expression. 

“I didn’t know what to do,” he continued explaining, “so I pretended to be asleep but I wanted you to kiss me. I thought that you would kiss me but you didn’t. So, I waited.” He looked down at his lap and bit his lip.

With your initial shock wearing off, you practically looked like a wild animal pouncing on the bed. Reid yelped at how quick you moved from where you originally stayed put. Without further ado, you reached for him. Thumbs caressing his rosy cheeks, you stared at his hazel irises.

“Are you sure about this?” You asked gently, wanting to be sure that he wants this just as much as you do. Before you could say anything else, Reid pressed his lips against yours.

As soon as you felt his lips against yours, your eyes closed. His lips were warm and soft—a little chapped but you didn’t mind. It feels perfect against yours. You didn’t want this to end but you want to see him—feel more of him. So, you did. You buried one of your hands in his curls as you caressed his chiseled jaw. Warmth blossomed in your chest as you realized you were kissing the guy you’d been pining for years and he is kissing you back.

You could taste your shared breath and feel the flutter of his long lashes against your cheeks. He tilted his head slightly in the opposite direction and nudged his nose against yours as your lips parted slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside.

You wanted to open your eyes. You wanted to see the faint constellations on his face, admire the slight scrunch of his brows when he’s focused—you had a feeling after this kiss is over, being with him won’t be as easy as it was before. You would be ruined knowing what it was like to kiss him. But you were so tired of longing for him. And his mouth was the softest mouth you have ever kissed. And nobody has ever kissed you like this before—loving and warm.

You didn’t stop kissing Reid until you felt like you were running out of air from running. So, you held his shoulders and distanced your face from his. He tried chasing your lips but you dodged him. Instead, you looked down at your lap. You felt your tears and willed them to not fall. Not here, not now, not in front of him. You wouldn’t want him to pity you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Reid placed his warm hand against yours, “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” His thumb caressed your hand soothingly.

“That’s the thing, Reid,” you explained, looking up at him right now as he flinched, noting the tears glistening in your eyes, “Nothing’s wrong. The kiss was perfect. You’re perfect.” You could see his shoulders sagging in relief after what you said. “And because of that, I can’t just pretend that what happened was normal because it isn’t. I know it won’t happen again so I can’t get used to it. And you know I’m not the type to kiss someone unless they mean that much to me.”

You were about to explain some more when you felt Reid pull you. You gulped when you felt the tickle of his breath in the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I really like you, Y/N. If it isn’t obvious,” Reid muttered shyly, “I’ve liked you for quite some time now.”

“Oh.”

If this was difficult for you, it was difficult for Reid as well—if not more—to be vulnerable about his feelings. You knew about how difficult it was for him growing up, being the only twelve-year-old prodigy in a public high school. He’s been through so much with his dad leaving and having to take care of his mom. He’s never had a proper experience with just about everything from making friends, being a normal kid, and in this case, harboring romantic feelings for someone—you.

So, you did what you thought could convey that the feeling was mutual. You gently wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his brown locks. He smelled of crisp pages of a book with a hint of pine. If you thought your favorite version of Reid was him rambling about facts and statistics, you’re probably going to give that version a run for his money. Because this version of Spencer Reid right here—the one who chose to be vulnerable, the one who chose to open up to you not knowing if the feeling was mutual—is probably your new favorite version of him.

“If it isn’t obvious to you, Dr. Reid,” you began, “I’ve liked you for quite some time now too.”

With that, you pulled him away from being tucked into your neck and kissed him again. You felt him grin widely, as you showered his pretty face with pecks, and you could not be happier. Before you could shower him with more kisses, Reid started spouting statistics about office romances.

“One in ten heterosexual couples in the United States meet at work.”

“Lucky for us,” you said as you tried to bury your nose in Reid’s neck, which made him giggle. "We are that one couple in the BAU. Now, shut up, so I can kiss you some more.”

This made Reid guffaw.

You couldn’t be happier waking up next to your coworker.

[cweampier]

okk so I'm returning the favour <3

I was wondering if you could do a small fic or drabble where reader and Leon are at a wedding. Probably readers relative or friend, and when the bride is coming down the isle leon whispers into readers ear

"That's going to be us someday, I promise you that."

Like ahhh I'm so unstable seriously lmao. I originally wrote this idea and posted it but it didnt do well so it was deleted. I hope u can ressurect the idea 🥰

gonna cry gonna cry… gonna cry…

you’d been to a fair amount of weddings in your life, but it was your first time bringing leon along with you. he’d struggle with the overriding issue of if he looked presentable enough, seeking for your reassurance. clammy hands adjusted the tie of his suit as you snickered beside him, it was like he was the groom of today. “you don’t have anyone to impress besides me, leon.. now stop stirring in your seat, the reception is starting.” you’d patted his thigh, hoping he’d take the hint and cease his movements. he did so in earnest, watching as the crowd craned their necks to the back.

he listened to the remedy of church bells and to the bright orchestra that commenced as his eyes followed the woman dressed in a recognizable white gown walk down the broad aisle, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers. he always loved the way wedding gowns looked, how they fitted forms so perfectly. he found his thoughts running rampant, imagining you both in this very moment, trying to capture a glimpse into what the future holds for the both of you. he’s yet to propose, but something stirred up inside him, wanting nothing more than to ask for your hand in marriage right then and there.

he knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he were to do so, the selfish idea reducing into nothing more than a distant memory one that he chased so desperately as he thumbed the back of your hand that he was holding. as the woman approached the alter, he leaned in close to your ear, hot breath tickling the lobe of it as he smiled against it at the thought of what he was about to say. “someday… i’ll buy you a beautiful ring and ask you to marry me,” he lulled, brushing a stand of hair from your face. “pick your karat, two, four, anything for you, just say the word,” he nuzzled his nose into the side of your ear, bunting his head against yours affectionately.

“it’ll be our day, just like it’s theirs today— ah..” he backed up as you elbowed his shoulder, watching your face pucker up sourly at his words. it was obvious you were trying to mask the excitement that bubbled up inside you at the thought of leon getting down on one knee, sporting a beautiful diamond ring only for you to accept as he asked you to marry him. through sickness and health, how he’d love you and honor all the days in his life that’ll be filled with you. “don’t be ridiculous, leon…” you whispered through your plump, pouty lips as he wet his bottom lip with a swipe of his tongue along it.

he let out a faint huff, calloused hands finding your ring finger, smoothing his own fingertips along it as he imagined a ring fit snugly onto it, his mark officially being made on you through lavish jewelry. jewelry that held true meaning and promises soon to be met as you both welcomed each other as not only partners but as soon-to-be husband and wife. he couldn’t wait for it, he sat in his seat like a tall child who dwelled giddily on the plans he had for what lies ahead. “ridiculous just so happens to be my middle name.. i can’t help who i am and what big dreams i dream. i just know i’ll always want you in them.”

you could only think to yourself ‘what a geek’ as you found yourself thinking about the same thing. a promising future, security and unconditional love.

[hazashiovo]

Oo can you do one abt domestic moments with Korra, Kuvira, Mako and Bolin? I feel like it’d be very cute and fluffy

Anything for u 🫵

One of the many domestic moments you have together, is reading while snuggled up on the couch or the bed in your shared room.

Kuvira would have one arm wrapped around your shoulder while holding a book about Earth Kingdom. Your head comfortably pressed on her chest listening to her beating heart while she reads to you in a soft spoken voice.

Of course you pay attention to what she reads,but it doesn't mean you take your eyes off her beautifully sculpted face, analyzing the expression she makes when reading certain sentences.

Like I mentioned in my previous Bolin fic, he's the type to cook for you. And on certain occasions the two of you find yourself in the kitchen.

Whether what you prepare is dinner,or breakfast it's something you cling into.

Sometimes when you get home ,Bolin is halfway cooking something so you just decide to join.

Music would echo through the kitchen while you're skillfully chopping some vegetables for your chosen dinner.

Hit with a surge of affection, Bolin would sneak behind you slightly moving his body with the music, placing his hands around your waist and leaving small kisses on the back of your neck, making you giggle quietly. A smile placed on both of your lips.

Long comfortable conversations about your future and past, ideas on life and possible theories.

Mako would say his part,how he imagined his life when he was little and what he achieved so far. Memories from his childhood would surface to you, bringing a smile on your face.

And you would ask theoretical questions,like if you would be together in every universe,or if things would go different,would you still be togheter? Would you ever even meet?

He would ease your minds by giving you a kiss on the forehead,then out of nowhere would tickle attack you, making you unable to breath trough your histerical laughter.

(I forgot Abt Korra 😭)

Spirit world is the place we're the two of you are most at peace.

Both sprawled on the soft grass staring at the sky, trying to figure out what forms each cloud has it's a great couple activity.

Korra would stay with her head on your belly pointing at the sky, claiming she saw a sky bison cloud.

You would chuckle,and tell her that they're actually two bisons. Just like you two are here, maybe they have a cute little bison family.

Who knows.

[queenendless]

😂Ticklish Remedy(Student!SatoSuguxStudent!Fem!Reader)😂

A/N: Sorry this took me so long to get out! I gotta write more JJK tk fics in the future. This one I rushed, it's true.

Content: Angst, hurt/comfort, more exposition than tickles but obvious tickles, mention of reader gaining seer vision cursed technique powers for possible future plot development, Shoko Ieiri cameo, and SatoSugu poly loving.

Credit for characters and art used goes to Gege sensei.

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope you enjoy.

Why were you in such a pathetic mood?

Waking up from a messed up dream in a cold sweat?

Coming back from a mission where more damage than saving was done?

Or a hard downpour out of nowhere soaked you and would be around for the remainder of the evening?

All of the above.

In this life, you are the quiet, sweet protective being. But it takes certain things to set you off. All of the above, for instance.

Another big one would be the only friends turned found family you ever had and known getting harmed in any way, whether from slander from those foolish higher ups or certain corrupted humans you were obligated to save and not harm for retribution despite getting injured on the job because of them. Those indeed pissed you off.

That wasn't the case this time.

Nah, you're just having one of those days.

You had just left the shower, clad in a dry tee shirt and short shorts, going stomach first flopping on your dorm room bed in a downtrodden sense, when a loud knock on your door made you moan in refusal, smothering your face in your pillow.

"L/n? Sweetie? Y/n-chaaaaaan~?!"

Satoru's loud rambles; his voice always making you smile, now sounded irritating to you. "Go away." Your muffled yell made a new voice join in.

"Y/n? Honey? Are you alright?"

Suguru's concerned voice made you feel bad at behaving this way towards them when it wasn't their fault at all. "Not really."

"Excuse us. We're coming in." Suguru's warning was followed by your dorm room door sliding opening as their heads popped up through behind the door, your weak wave giving them the prompt to just come in.

They were both still in uniform but also in socks and slippers, as Satoru flopped down, jostling the bed, before spooning you from behind and Suguru sliding your door closed before sitting on the edge of the bed in front of you and held your hand in his; rubbing comforting circles on your knuckles with his thumb when he asked.

"How bad?"

Your hesitant sigh didn't bode well. "I was sent alone to exorcize a second-grade curse spirit after it ended several regulars working at a cemetery."

"Yaga-sensei told us." Suguru's pitying gaze made you whine weakly. "We're sorry we couldn't go with you."

Flashes of your nightmare from early morning resurfaced; your pinched expression being a sign of your discomfort. "The same nightmare happened again. Just … bloodied corpses … of those I care for …that shadowed, stitched forehead bastard's smile ... and I'm unable to move or scream or do anything …" Your voice wavered as your form trembled with a deep-rooted frustration and pain on this particular dilemma.

You still had no freaking idea who or what it was; human or cursed spirit, let alone why you kept having these dreams. A warning? Perhaps. You were slowly climbing up the ranks in terms of developing your Innate technique; as odd as it was in getting impactful visions followed by side effecting migraines. And this was yet another unknown future threat standing in your way.

"Plus I got rained down hard coming back here. So there." You pouted, taking Suguru's hand in your own, just to splat it over your face, amusing the latter despite the gloomy vibe.

"That bad, huh? God, quite the depressing mood bundle you are!" Satoru sighed loudly.

You jammed your thumb over your shoulder into Satoru's cheek, dryly retorting. "Obnoxious creep." You thrusted your pointer finger of the same hand forward in Suguru's face. "Weird bangs guy."

"Now sweetie, I know you're just saying those things because you're down in the dumps… but it still wounds me!" Satoru mockingly cried out, ruffling your hair, further driving the point of getting stabbed in the feels.

"Honey, you're wrong. About my bangs, I mean. Satoru … nah that's right on the mark." Geto poked your nose, smirking like the smart ass he is, rubbing salt in the wound.

"Hey!" Gojo flared up, dagger eyes on his bestie at the betrayal.

You snorted at their interaction. Satoru's face stubbornly set in a pouting expression, when the sound you just made gave him quite the amusing idea as he kissed your forehead down from up above you. "So, what you need right now is some serious cheering up, 101."

A twisted smile suddenly wormed up on his face. It makes your gut squirm with nerves.

"Suguru~" The sing-song tone to his name snatched the younger man's attention. "It seems our lovely girlfriend is too grumpy for our liking~!"

The same twisted feeling inside you doubled as Suguru smiled at you in the same manner.

"Yes … we should remedy that right away."

Able to read each other's thoughts down pat; synced as the best friends they are, meant they were both on board for their evil agenda.

"Uh, chotto matte," Your Nihongo Jouzu reflexes came spilling out as nervous giggles did as well, fidgeting as your attempts to get up and pull away from Satoru's hold were futile for his arms tightened around your waist and pulled quick enough to flush your back against his front. "Not that. Anything but that!"

"Y/n-chan … if you plead more, I'll consider it." Suguru calmly mused as he climbed up on your bed, trapping your legs in between his knees, coyly smiling. "Maybe~"

A squeal sprung free from your lips as the spider-like fingers of Satoru squeezed your sides before wriggling into your ribs. "I'd rather she beg. After all, she wants this so much~!" Satoru smugly taunted, that fat ass smirk plastered on his face when you jabbed your elbow hard in his side.

"Liar liar pants on fire – AAH~!" Your retort was cut off by your own shriek as Satoru's fingertips slithered around to deeply drag across your belly.

"Oh ho, you're gonna get it now!" Satoru's deepened tone spoke doom for you. Suguru's snickers only added to it.

Your spastic, laughing form was kicking, flailing, and bouncing to both their inner amusement and glee; the bed squeaking and the headboard hitting the wall many times in the process.

"Cootchie cootchie coo~!" Satoru's fingers slid through your shirt sleeves to pinch and wring the bare skin of your armpits.

"Tohohohohoru you ahahahahahass~!" You slam your shoulders into his in another attempt to push him off, but that lean skinny bode hid such strength beneath.

"Hey! I have a fine ass, I'll have you know!" Gojo's pursed lips were made to good use as he began doing raspberries from the crook of your neck to the base of it to under your ear, speaking in between every tingling blow. "Very. Fine. Indeed!" His snowy hair added to the ticklish sensation as his puffy locks brushed your cheek.

"You twohoohoo beheheheheter stahahahap or I swehehehear I'll – EEK~!" You squeaked harder as Suguru exchanges wiggling squeezes between your shaking kneecaps and your thighs. "Suhuhuhuhugu qu – quihihihit it~!!"

Geto snorted. "Jackass is more like it."

"Your face up my ass the other day spoke otherwise, if you recall~" Satoru's buzzing wet lips pulled from your neck to give bedroom eyes to Suguru.

Who returns the look, just as gluttonous for another go. "The face you made proves you enjoyed it just as much~"

Their raunchy talk was halted as a pillow got whacked in Suguru's face, followed by said pillow being thrown to Satoru's, who barely caught it in one hand. But that enough commotion lets you slip free from his loosened grasp.

Though the truth was he let you go free for now, laughing slowly at the look of sheer disbelief on his raven haired lover's face at what you just pulled, the more bangs loosely gracing his forehead from the commotion.

"Ooh, you're in trouble~!" Gojo singing spoke of doom.

Your panting, pink cheeked self could only have a moment's reprieve as chills raked your skin at the dark edge tainting Suguru's almond eyes. Unlike the smile in your nightmares, bearing callousness and insanity, Suguru's bore a more eerily calm smiling face.

"Indeed … it's on."

He dodged the kick to his face by your freed foot, toothily smiling as he caught your ankle, viewed your squirming foot with scrutinizing intrigue, before dragging his finger up and down your sole lightly enough to have you become a cute chortling mess.

Your other foot moved to kick his arm to free yourself when Gojo snatched it straight away, clicking his tongue to scold you. "Naughty, naughty~"

The two looming devils you love jumped you!

Shoko Ieiri, twirling her non lite cigarette between her fingers, jumped at the ear-piercing scream striking the air of the dorm, high tailing to the source as curiosity beckoned her.

Discovering the loud slamming ruckus jumbled in as well, it all is coming from your room followed by your jumbled cackling wordplay in the mix had her sliding the door open, her cigarette nearly slipping from her grasp at the sight she just witnessed.

You were flipped to lay on your stomach, laughing your sweaty red face off, as both those bastards each straddled a thigh of yours, with a footsie for each to tickle savagely.

"And this is why I stopped questioning why this is your norm now." Shoko shrugged.

"She whacked us with her pillow!" Suguru gruffly complained as his fingers wringed through your toes.

"Hilarious move on her part but she did wound my pride." Satoru's mirthful grin then drooped as his pride did deflate. "So, retribution!" Killing your restraint as he nibbled on your padded piggies.

"SHOHOHOHOHOHOHOKO~!!! MAHAHAHAHAHAKE THEHEHEHEHEHEM STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP~!!!"

Your flailing calves nearly whacking them were immediately taken care of as their forearms wrapped around them to hold them in place, their hands squeezing your ankles in their ironclad grip. Suguru nibbled and dragged his teeth and tongue down your wrinkled sole while Satoru's lips and tongue suckled and wriggled between your toes.

"PLEHEHEHEHEHESE HAHAHAHAHAHAVE MEHEHEHEHEHERCY~!!!"

"Yeah, as the resident healer of our group, I see the telltale signs she's gonna pass out at this rate." Shoko nearly toppled over you as your hands needed some support to dig and squeeze your fingers in something to keep your unhinged self-grounded.

Suguru hummed in contemplation. "Hmmm … while seeing and hearing our love in this state does please me greatly, this overall was supposed to cheer her up."

"Your cheering up brand is quite savage indeed." Shoko's apathetic tone made them both stifle a groan; Satoru's vibrating through your foot made you squeal louder, as he finally popped his mouth off your saliva covered minies.

"Alright, alright! We will," Satoru gave a big wet smooch to your topside. "I'd say we're even now."

Suguru kissed your other topside in the same manner, before their arms released your calves, moving off your thighs so they could lay your legs fully down on your rustled sheeted bed.

You breathed in and out your relief as tranquility came at last; giggles from ghost tickles slipping in, releasing your hold on Shoko's arm to fold yours and use them as your personal resting pillow. "Ah … f … freedom … thank you." You were now more exhausted but less depressing. Pro? Perhaps. For now, anyway.

"Y/n." You leaned your head into Satoru's smooth warm hand as he brushed your hair strands sticking to your forehead aside, rubbing your forehead before brushing your hair back in gentle motions, as he flopped down on his stomach on your right side, resting his cheek on his free forearm, the vibrant Six Eyes looking at you over his lowered shades, straightforward truth teeming in them. "In this life, you can't save everyone."

You frowned at that, blunt and to the point, when Suguru also flopped down the same way on your left side, his giant firm hand rubbing massaging circles on your back, surging with tender care, bringing blessed sighs out of you, as his eyes met yours next, teemed with solace. "Nor will the fear of the unknown go away just like that."

"We can't promise that nothing will happen to all of us later on down the line, either." Satoru's distaste for it showed.

"But we can promise that when they do, come what may, we'll give it our all." Suguru's empathy shined through in his beautiful almond eyes.

"We have to in order to be the strongest duo, after all." Satoru chuckled as his cheek nuzzled yours.

"Eh? And me?" You pouted.

"Then trio." Suguru pecked your lips just to see that smile of yours blossom.

"Ahem!" Shoko fake coughed, sitting against the front of the bed on the floor, plopping her head back, lips puckered and batting eyes at you all in fake sadness.

"Okay, squad then! Point being! Whatever comes our way, we face it together, as best we can. We are there for each other. None of us should be alone. Right?" Satoru's sincere toothy smile sealed the deal.

You sighed deeply. "Fine … but any more savage tickling cheering up schemes in the future are off the table! I swear to God –!"

"Hai hai." The duo agreed in unison as they each pressed a deep noisy smooch to your cheeks.

"Ehem." Shoko pointed at her own face, wanting smooches too. That brought laughs out of all three of you before you kissed her forehead, and the guys kissed her cheeks.

The downpour had finally ceased, and you fell asleep from the tiring experience that toppled the rest.

"Too precious for this kind of life, she is." Shoko smiled faintly as the guys kept their eyes on yourself, softly breathing, slowly lifting and lowering your slumbering self.

"Suguru? Those dreams of hers …"

"Premonitions, you mean?"

Satoru nodded. "It's been happening for weeks now."

"She could be a cursed Seer of sorts. See the future and all that." Shoko interjected.

"Her cursed energy has been increasing. Her output as well. Still … I say we keep close to her. Keep our guard up." Suguru suggested.

"And if Yaga-sensei sends her out solo tasking again?" Satoru dreaded that possible outcome.

"We should inform him of this. If a possible dire threat does arrive in our future, I'd suggest one of us go with her on missions just in case. We both can handle solo missions just fine."

"Then I call dibs~!"

Suguru's eyes narrowed intensely. "My idea, my dibs."

Satoru flared up. "Eh~?!"

Your groggy stirring mumbles alerted the bois to keep it down, your settling down leaving them puffing out their reliefs.

"Compromise then, Satoru~?"

Said man groaned. "You're lucky you're you."

Suguru chuckled at that before smooching his snowy haired lover over your resting head.

"Your throuple is a cursed miracle in and of itself, alright." Shoko murmured, toying with the cig between her lips.

Your throuple life story.

Cursed miracle indeed.

[turtletaubwrites]

Misty Eyes ~ Part 3

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. *This part contains two Doffy flashbacks with a graphic depiction of violence including blood, murder of an unnamed character, and the reader being sick, as well as implied sexual encounters. Doffy flashback sections are marked between these symbols ~🦩🦩🦩~ so you can skip past them if you'd like. The chapter begins with one of these graphic memories, but ends with some Hurt/Comfort & sweet fluff!

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)

Word Count: 5768

Misty Eyes Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: You try to acclimate to life aboard this yellow submarine, but your past keeps tearing you apart. All that Doffy made you do feels like a stain on your soul, and you're afraid you'll never be clean.

Author's Note: This one gets really fucked up, but I hope the sweet ending makes up for it! 🖤 I have added the dead dove do not eat tag, so please heed the warnings, and do not read if they might be triggering for you.

Thank you so much @pinejayyfor this delicious request!!

Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Donquixote Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death, (unnamed character), Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Donquixote Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags To Be Added

!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Another simple mission too much for you, Y/N?”

Doffy ducked a bit as he sauntered into the room, his voice making your enemy freeze with her sea prism stone blade to your throat.

“Young mast–”

Your target smirked at you, pressing the tip of the blade into your flesh, just enough to cut your words. 

“Are you good and scared,” she taunted, ignoring the powerful man at her back.

Is she fucking stupid? She has to know who he is.

Doffy grinned as he moved closer, until you saw yourself reflected in his sunglasses over your enemy’s head. Neither of the menacing figures before you moved or spoke for a moment, leaving your mind in chaos. 

I failed him again. He’s not helping me. Why would he? I’m worthless. 

The woman chuckled, showing no fear as the future king of the pirates towered over her. Until his large hand fisted her hair, lifting her until her toes barely touched the ground. A shocked cry left her lips, her satisfied smirk torn away as she struggled to free herself.

“You really can’t do anything on your own, can you?”

Humiliation poured over you, making you wish that the blade had cut you deeper. The prick of blood on your throat wasn’t nearly enough to drown your shame. 

The woman laughed, even as she struggled in Doffy’s grasp. She choked on that laughter as the blade in her hand flew toward her own neck, tugged by invisible strings. 

“Wait, you said–”

Those frantic eyes had tried to look toward the young master, but her words ended as a flood of red left her throat. Doffy laughed, watching your wide eyes while the woman thrashed. The blade clattered to the floor as a rain of bright, hot blood fell upon it. He took a step toward you, letting all that cherry red cascade down your chest as you stared into the woman’s dying eyes.

She reached for you, dragging her nails across your throat.

“You’re really gonna let this trash disrespect our family? Disrespect me,” Doffy questioned, as bile rose in your throat.

“N-No, I’m sorry young–”

“Finish it. Pick up the knife, and gut her.”

The woman was still struggling, still fighting, but you knew it wouldn’t be long. 

I have to prove myself. 

You couldn’t move. 

“Do it, Y/N,” Doffy threatened, his voice low as he shoved her closer. That hot blood poured over your face as he lifted her higher. 

You fell to your knees, somehow finding the blade through the red that had covered your eyes, spitting it out of your mouth as you used the wall to stand back up. 

“There you go. Prove you can do something right, Y/N.”

Blinking through the blood, you held the blade to the woman’s stomach, throwing up before you could pierce her flesh. 

Doffy dropped that lightly twitching body as you started to retch, stepping back to watch you cover your enemy in your own pathetic disgrace. 

Choking on sobs as your stomach emptied over the nearly dead form, you tried to wipe and hide your face. There was no way to hide from Doffy, his manic grin looming near as he crouched beside you. 

“Such a pathetic sight. To think that a member of my family could fail me like this,” he tutted, ripping your heart to shreds. 

“I’m so sorry, young master, I–”

Your fingers slipped in the blood and sick on the floor as you tried to push yourself up, until your body moved on its own. 

No. Not on its own. 

Doffy moved it, his fingers extending as he controlled you. A disgusting marionette, dripping with the evidence of shame. 

“So disappointing.”

The young master’s voice weighed you down, even as he held your body up. He directed your movements, forcing you to walk as though you were proud of the sticky failure on your skin. 

I’m nothing. I don’t deserve to live. I don’t deserve his love. 

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Y/N, hey, you’re okay–” 

“I couldn’t do it, I’m too weak. I’m so sorry, young–”

Nausea tore through you, the fight to keep from being sick bringing you into the present. Into the mist. Law’s soothing voice was too full of concern, and you hated taking down your camouflage. Hated letting him see how weak you were. 

“Y/N, can I check your–”

Law’s fingers were on you as soon as you nodded, slipping along the cold sweat that coated your skin as he checked your temperature and pulse. 

“I’m fine,” you lied, your voice hoarse as if you had been sick. 

His hands guided your trembling body as you sat up, your eyes caught on your own misty fingers. 

Pathetic. 

“Do you… wanna talk about it?”

A sharp laugh escaped you, flooding you with guilt. An apology died in your throat as you rubbed your hands over your arms, sliding through that layer of sweat. 

“Can I take a shower?”

~

The “Surgeon of Death” waited outside the bathroom for you. You thought he was trying to help you feel safe by not letting anyone else in, until you remembered the concern, the pity on his face. 

He’s making sure I don’t hurt myself. 

You couldn’t meet his eyes as he tried to speak to you on the way to the galley, but a tiny smile broke through your heavy shame from Law’s poor attempt at small talk. 

“Good morning, Y/N!” Penguin’s voice was too loud as he leaned close to grab breakfast at the counter. The stuffed penguin on his hat bobbed toward you while he spoke.

“Morning,” you greeted, with far less enthusiasm, only to be met with a small orchestra of cheerful voices calling to you, and their captain. 

“Hope you didn’t mind the captain on your floor last night. He used to snore like a–”

“Penguin,” Law commanded, voice low as he gripped his crew mate’s wrist. 

The man's friendly clap on your back had made your shoulders tense up, your jaw clenching as Doffy’s voice boomed through your mind. 

‘Only I’m allowed to touch my little doll,’ Doffy rasped, pinching your thighs almost too hard as you sat in his lap. You tried not to stare at the blood spreading across the marble floor. ‘I don’t like to share.’

“Sure, sorry captain, sorry Y/N…” Penguin took a step back, dipping his head at Law’s frown.

“It’s okay,” you breathed, your lying smile forming so easily on your face before he led you to a table in the corner, away from his happy crew.

I’m like mist, sucking the joy and beauty out of a sunny place.

“Why don’t we skip the interview today,” Law suggested, tapping his pretty fingers on the table.

“But, don’t you nee–”

“I need you to be okay,” he interrupted, reaching those fingers to touch your wrist gently, barely, before pulling away. “Besides, I have something else in mind.”

~ 

Moving through the metal halls felt like a dream, like you’d get lost, and keep walking for years before you woke up. Until he spun the wheel to open a heavy door, leading you into the largest room you’d seen on this underwater ship.

“How nostalgic,” you teased, nodding your head toward the wall of weapons in what was clearly a training room. 

“It’s been a while since you kicked my ass,” he said with a laugh, and you chewed your lip to fight your cheesy smile. He moved down the wall, pulling two daggers free before facing you. “Catch.”

“Wait,” you cried out, ready to move or mist away, but your body acted on its own. You caught the blade he’d thrown your way, gripping it as you smiled to yourself.

“I see you haven’t lost your reflexes,” he hummed, facing off with you.

“What if I had,” you scolded, your free hand on your hip. 

“I knew it couldn’t hurt you. But your enemies might not,” he mused. “Why didn’t you strike? I gave you an opening.”

“What are you–” you laughed, shaking your head at him. “I’m not a fighter anymore. Besides, I don’t want to be mauled by a bear when your crew finds out I tried to attack you.”

His scowl was so sharp, you almost missed his movement. The second blade flew toward you, spinning clear with the ringing of metal as you blocked it with the first dagger.

“What the fuck, Law?”

He ignored you as he pulled a sword from the wall, striding your way with death in his eyes. Your body slid into a stance it hadn’t felt in years, and you gritted your teeth. Barely escaping Law’s attack, you used the dagger to deflect his blade as you rolled away.

“Why are–”

His sword came down over your head, and you misted out of reach, your breath heavy as anger and fear started to build. 

“Law! Why–”

“Why do you keep saying you’re weak?”

You froze, unable to move as he plunged his sword through your chest, meeting nothing but mist.

“What happened to the girl that could kick my ass? Until I’d get her back, of course,” he grinned, offering his hand to help you up. Still frozen, you watched him sigh, dropping the sword as he sat down beside you. 

“Why do you keep saying that you’re weak,” he repeated softly, his gaze stripping you to the bone.

“Because I am weak.”

The words held nothing but truth, a truth you’d long since accepted. 

“Don’t be stupid,” he reprimanded, the insult bringing your eyes to his with a bit of shock and annoyance.

“Is that my doctor’s orders,” you growled, anger showing through your mask for the first time in ages. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you dug your nails into your shins, the comfort of the mild pain helping you stay grounded.  

“Yes,” he deadpanned, your lips parting as you glared. He didn’t drop that judgemental look on his face, and it was too fucking much.

You hid the need to squirm by standing, picking up the weapons to hang back on the wall. The weight of a useless life pushed your shoulders down, until a tattooed hand touched yours, taking one of the daggers from you while you stared at the floor. 

“When we were kids, you were just as strong of a fighter as I was. I don’t understand how that could change, Y/N,” he recalled, voice soft as he touched your chin. His eyes searched yours, as if you were a puzzle he couldn’t solve. 

“I know you’re fierce. Pretty sure I’ve still got a few scars from you,” he laughed, that gentle sound making your eyes drift closed, a bittersweet smile on your lips. 

“I’m not fierce,” you confessed, shivering as your skin burned where his fingers still held your chin. “I couldn’t keep up. My powers are so... I kept failing, just like they said I would.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

You almost gaped at him again, but his hand on your chin kept your jaw from dropping. Pulling away, you crossed your arms, that irritation growing. 

“Your bedside manner is shit, you know that?”

“We’re not in bed right now,” he countered, his confident voice cut short by his own awkward cough as he continued. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. I’m not a fighter anymore, Law. I can help you with my memories, you don’t need to do all of this.” He ignored your movements as you gestured to the wall of weapons, falling back into that frown he’s so good at. 

“Get over it.”

“Excuse me?”

He thrust the handle of the dagger into your palm, leaning close. 

“Everyone has to pull their weight on this ship. You’re gonna shadow the crew until we find a job that suits you. You’re gonna sit with me for interviews. And you’re gonna train, just like everyone else,” he commanded, your breath catching as you felt the authority pouring off of him. His fingers were still wrapped around yours, pressing the handle of the blade into your skin.

“Do you under–”

Law grunted with more surprise than pain as your other fist connected with his face. He took a step back, scalding eyes raking over you while he rubbed his jaw, but you cut him off before he could speak. 

“Gotcha, with a capital ‘G,” you declared, moving your arms with the dagger to create a poor image of the letter ‘G.’

Everything else faded from your mind as Law started to laugh, holding himself up with his hands on his knees. You couldn’t help but join him, some good childhood memories finally filling the air between you. 

“Does he still do that,” he asked, still breathless as he fought the laughter.

“Lau G won’t stop doing that until he’s dead and gone.”

He leaned against the wall of weapons, shaking his head as he pulled up ancient memories.

“That old man trained both of us, Y/N. You were neck and neck with me, even though I’d never admit it back then.”

Your face grew hot, hopefully masked by the wheezing laughter you were still recovering from. But shame quickly followed the pride from his praise, so you turned away to stretch, avoiding his discerning eyes.

“Let’s start with hand to hand,” he ordered softly. You let him take the blade from you, meeting him on the mats in the center of the large, echoey room. Bouncing on your heels, you fought to keep yourself in the present. 

‘Can’t take care of a single mission. I’ve never had such a failure in my family before. What should I do with you?’

‘So misty, so flimsy! You’ll never be as strong as us. I bet the young master will throw you out soon.’

‘Why don’t you just focus on being pretty, dear. I heard the young master say that’s all you’re good for.’

“I won’t go easy on you," Law's threat broke through your foggy mind. He smirked, taunting you with a tilt to his head. “Kick my ass.”

Falling into a stance without a thought, you tried to be here, to be nothing but this. You couldn’t make the first move, getting annoyed as Law feinted, tapping you here or there until you finally fought back. 

There he was. That silly, angry boy with that wicked smirk. The smirk that you needed to kick off that pretty face. Two years of rivalry, two years of tiny, vicious preteens sparring daily, came flooding back as the sounds filled the training room. The sounds of fists and shins connecting with bodies, breaths and grunts, snarky remarks and laughter. 

It felt like no time had passed. 

Until you noticed that thought, and shame hit you just before Law tackled you, taking your breath as he rode your body to the ground. 

Coming back to yourself too late, he had you pinned, unable to work your arms or legs to get out of his grasp. 

“I know you can do better than that,” he teased, his black hair caught in the sweat on his forehead as he stared down at you. 

“Go fuck yourself,” you breathed, still winded with his weight on your body.

“With a capital ‘G,” he smirked, too much satisfaction on his face. He laughed as you squirmed harder, trying to free a hand to punch him with. 

Now you were satisfied, hearing him grunt as he struggled to keep you in place. You freed one arm, but before you could make contact, Law changed position. He caught your wrist, his breathing ragged as his face hovered even closer to yours. 

The air was different, shivers running through you as your bodies relaxed into each other. The struggle halted as you felt his breath on your lips. 

His eyes were wide as he took you in, his brows creasing just a bit. Your chest warmed at the memory of a childhood crush, and a quick peck of a kiss before he disappeared. That sweet memory fell apart when he pulled himself off of you, a slight frown on his lips before he turned away. 

Oh. 

“That’s, uh,” he started, walking away as he avoided your gaze, “that’s enough for today. Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll get your schedule for tomorrow. Good work, today.”

You held up a polite smile as sharp blades of ice seemed to carve into your empty chest. Wanting Law to kiss you seemed ridiculous. Selfish. You hadn’t realized that your stupid, absent heart was so delusional. And now you knew exactly why you shouldn’t think about him that way. 

He’s disgusted by me. I’ll always be tainted. Ruined. I’m lucky he hasn’t put me out of my misery yet. Why would Law want to touch trash like me?

The thoughts crashed into you, and the moment wouldn’t stop replaying. The press of him, his amber eyes, the sweat and breath mixing between you. 

And that frown as he pulled away. 

It played on a loop as you walked through the submarine, repeating through another shower, a nearly silent lunch in the galley, and the tour. Law guided you with a hand drawn map, labeled with the various stations, and the crew members you’d be shadowing. A detailed weekly schedule filled the back of the paper, and you let out a quiet laugh at his attention to detail.

“Do you have any questions?”

“No, teacher,” you teased, breathing deep when he finally looked at you again. 

“It’s captain,” he corrected as he pointed to the schedule. “You’ll be with Ikkaku tomorrow morning, then if you’re up for it, I'd like to do another interview.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

Just a twitch of his lips this time, but it was a relief. Until he left you in the galley with the crew, excusing himself to complete some “captain’s duties.”

He doesn’t even want to eat with me now. I probably make him sick.

“Hi, Y/N, you can sit with me! You know, if you want to…” Bepo trailed off, flipping from excited to glum in seconds. 

“Thank you, Bepo,” you agreed, donning your cheerful voice as you sat across from him. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” Penguin said as he sat beside you, still too close for comfort after years of Doffy’s rules. “The captain’s the only one that taught us any manners, but I guess I still need some practice.”

“It’s al–”

“Give her some space, you’re being a creep,” Shachi cut in, sitting across from Penguin as he pointed a fork his way. 

“I’m not a creep, you jerk–”

“The captain said to behave ourselves,” Bepo scolded, and you found a real smile on your lips as you saw the concern on his cute, furry face.

“Hey, you’re with me tomorrow, right?”

Ikkaku waved over the bear's shoulder, her dark brown curls making her instantly recognizable. You confirmed with a nod while the three boys at the table kept bickering. 

“Let’s go talk about it.”

Arguments and insults floated through the air, and you were grateful for the rescue as you joined the only other non-man on the ship. She smirked as she nodded her head toward her crew mates.

“Don’t mind the dumbasses, they’re harmless.”

“Thanks,” you laughed, your appetite returning as you watched Ikkaku take a large bite, rolling her eyes at Bepo’s table. 

Comfortable quiet sat with you, and you finally felt a moment of ease in your new world. Even with Law, you felt this energy of holding yourself up, of presenting yourself how you wanted him to see you. But this relaxed woman seemed friendly as she dug into her meal, without the pressure of a smile. She didn’t watch you, or force you into small talk, even when you followed her out of the galley to point out where you’d be working in the morning. 

“I’m ‘Weps,’ so I’ll be showing you how to spot and kill enemies. Hopefully we’ll always be bored,” she huffed, pointing vaguely toward her station before guiding you back to the barracks. 

“That’s you, right,” she asked, tapping on your door. “I’ll yell when it’s time to go.”

“Thank you,” you squeaked, staring for a moment as she turned away. 

That small metal room seemed to amplify your worst thoughts, your loneliness echoing through the air like some torturous bell. You wished you had some sort of drug to knock yourself out. Instead, you curled on your side, trying not to think about how Law had cared enough to sleep on your floor last night, but could barely look at you after your near touch earlier. 

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Don’t get all misty-eyed. That man should have known better than to touch my pretty doll,” Doffy declared, crouching down to press his palm into the sticky red puddle.

The blood of an unlucky man. A friendly man that tried to help you stay balanced while you walked down a flight of stairs in too-high heels. 

“No one else will ever touch you,” Doffy breathed, pressing his bloody palm to your chest. He licked his lips as he dragged his fingers higher, painting your skin. 

Doffy loves me. He’ll be King. Kings have to do this. They have to enforce their–

Your deep breaths and calming thoughts halted as his sticky hand gripped your face, digging into your cheeks to tilt your face up to his.

No more misty eyes.

You felt pride for your lack of tears, and for the smile he gave before he smoothed the hair from your face.

“You’re so pretty when you listen to me,” he praised, his grin deepening when he heard your pleased hum. “You know I’ll have to kill you too, right? You're my doll now. Letting someone touch you with their grubby fingers, and defile my toy sounds like another failure, huh, misty eyes?”

A soft noise escaped your lips as you struggled to be strong for him. 

“Well,” he seethed, the veins in his forehead bulging as he shook your face in his bloody grip, “does my pretty doll have anything to say?”

“I-I’m yours, Doffy,” you promised, keeping your eyes dry as your body went loose, leaning into his hold. 

“My body belongs to you, young mast– Doffy. I’d rather die than let someone defile your property.”

A bruising kiss took your breath, and you whined for him as he laid you on the marble floor. That spill of red beside you had finally stopped flowing. 

“Don’t forget that, Y/N. I’m the only one that gets to defile my pretty doll. My disgusting, little toy. No one would want to touch you anyway. Not if they knew what you let me do to you.”

Doffy laughed as he proved it to you.

And you kept your eyes dry.

~🦩🦩🦩~

Last night, your mind had chosen memories over dreams. The lights and sounds of the sonar were lovely, yet too soothing, and Ikkaku caught you shaking yourself as you held in a yawn. 

“Come on,” she ordered as she pushed you out of the weapons room, leading you through the halls. You pressed your fingers into your brow, trying to alleviate some of the pressure, not realizing where she was taking you until she called through a familiar door.

“Captain, I need to report a crew member who’s unfit for duty.”

“Wait, what,” you cried out, cutting off your own yawn as she rolled her eyes at you. 

Law opened the door, his eyes narrowing on you before he looked at her.

“What’s your report?”

“Y/N was doing well with sonar, but she's clearly sleep deprived. There's no yawning at my weapons station, Captain.”

Ikkaku softened her report by flashing you a tiny smile, but your shoulders slumped in embarrassment. 

“Thank you for the report,” Law cleared his throat, avoiding your eyes as he focused on her. “We’ll try again tomorrow. You’re dismissed, Ikkaku.”

She patted your back as she passed, her gesture of comfort lost as your body tensed at the touch. 

With a shaky breath, you turned to him, staring at his tattooed arms that flexed as they crossed below his chest. 

I didn’t mind when he touched me.

That thought was bittersweet, the bitter turning to bile when you remembered him pulling away. 

“Come in,” he gestured into the office, and you stepped back into your memories. A shrine to Doffy, even if it was built of hate. 

“How much sleep did you get last night,” he spoke like a doctor, scrutinizing every movement as you sat down across his desk. 

“How would I know? There’s no clock in there.”

Somehow, his frown deepened, and you let out a heavy sigh. 

“Did you sleep at all?”

The touch of warmth in his voice filled the cold room, but you didn’t want it. You couldn’t truly have it. So you let the truth ring through your mind as you lied again.

All I am is the broken toy of the man he despises. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll be okay.”

Your eyes slid away, seeing nothing as you pretended to be fine. Yet, you blinked slowly when he stood, his chair scraping along the floor before he came to kneel beside you.

Time seemed fuzzy, but after a while you heard his voice, low and steady. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Too tired and stuck for anything except for the faint quivering of your bottom lip, you stayed silent. 

“Is it…” he cleared his throat, flexing his hands before he went on. “Is it alright if I hug you?”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he tried to cover his worry in a soothing tone as tears and small choked sounds left your throat. “We don’t need to–”

“Please.”

That tiny, pathetic word left your lips, and you felt sick for asking for anything. Sick for forcing him to take care of you. 

But you didn’t fight as he pulled the chair out, as he knelt to the side of your knees, as he touched long fingers to your cheek. 

“Is it alright if I hug you,” he asked again in a whisper. You were too weak to protect him from you, nodding slowly until you felt more of his touch. 

He pulled you gently forward, your arms limp as he wrapped his around your waist, letting your head rest on his shoulder. 

“You’re okay,” he soothed, sliding a palm between your shoulder blades. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Denials and arguments struggled to leave your lips, anger and fear fighting for control. 

But you were so tired. 

And Law felt so warm, so solid, his smell familiar, yet new. He squeezed you tighter as your breath sped up, holding you still, until you held him too.

He didn’t let go as you dripped hot tears onto his neck. He didn’t let go when you clung to him, digging your fingers into his arms and shoulders. He didn’t let go as your cries flipped from silent to pleading, as you begged for his forgiveness, or choked over the fears and shame you carried. 

Through every round of emotions, you would return to guilt and disgust.

“I’m sorry, Law, I’m sick. You shouldn't be... I’m sorry you have to touch me.”

“Why are you saying that,” he nearly growled, holding your head against him to keep you from leaving his grasp. 

You had no idea how long you’d made him care for you, how many tears you’d let stain his shirt. But however long it had been, you were finally able to speak some of it clearly. 

“You hate him,” you said, your feeble voice breaking between your haggard breaths, “and I’m his… I’m broken. I’m disgust–”

“Shut up.”

A surprised yelp stopped your words, the force of his grip catching your breath. 

Law’s fingers dug into your skin as he pressed you against him, almost to the point of pain, and your mind froze as you waited for him. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he declared, forcing the words through his teeth. “I don’t give a shit about what he did to you. I don’t care what he made you do. It wasn’t your fault, you hear me?”

There was anger in his words, but you knew it wasn’t for you. Still, you were stunned, feeling his heavy breaths beating against your chest. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he buried his face into your neck before pulling away. It was almost painful losing his warmth against you, but he took your hands in his. He seemed to be having more trouble meeting eyes than you were, and you started sinking into the chair while he cleared his throat a few times. 

“When I found out that you’d… That he’d… I should have saved you, Y/N. But I decided not to care about you so I could focus on my mission. I let him–”

“Stop,” you cried out, shaking your head against the guilt in his voice. “I wouldn’t have come with you before. I don’t even know when things started to change. But I would have betrayed you. I wanted to be… I’m glad you didn’t find me sooner, Law. I just wish–”

You cut yourself off, melting into his golden eyes. A stolen moment of peace amidst the guilt and pain. 

“What do you wish,” he asked, rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands.

“... I don't think broken people get wishes.”

He gave a jaded laugh before standing, leaning against the desk while he rubbed his knees. 

“Will it help you sleep if I stay on your floor tonight?”

You smirked at his soft words, looking from his knees up to his face before responding. 

“I don’t know, old man. I don’t think it’ll be good for your joints.” The look on his face was perfect, and a real laugh left your raw throat, shaking your tired body. 

“We’re the same age,” he countered, eyes wide with that manic grin, “and disrespecting your captain is a punishable offense.”

“I see how it is,” you teased, lightly poking his side. “Still can’t come up with a good comeback, so you threaten me with violence? Looks like you haven’t changed a bit, you– Law!”

He’d grabbed your wrist before going to his knees again, those pretty fingers searching your ribs for the perfect spot. You writhed and laughed, and failed to fight him off as he tickled you, the way he used to when he couldn’t outsmart you. 

“Law, you–”

“Fuck, sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Law pressed himself against the desk, still on his knees with his hands held up, his eyes wide and worried as he looked at you. 

You cracked up, true, heavy laughter, until his lips curled into that evil little smirk. But you beat him to it, sliding to the ground to get him back, tickling and getting a good squirm out of him before you both attacked. 

He growled as he laughed, grappling you to the side of the chair until he had you pinned to the ground again. Neither of you could tickle the other as you fought for control or freedom. His cheeks were flushed as he laughed in your face, giving you a snarky, “nuh uh,” when you failed to break loose. 

His tongue pressed between his teeth as he gloated, that cocky grin fading as you melted into each other again. 

“I–I’m sorry,” he sighed, shifting his weight to leave. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you demanded, breathless, and aching for him to stay. “I want…”

You closed your eyes, guilt and shame sliding into your lungs again. 

His weight shifted, settling back where he was before. You bit your lip when you saw him staring at your mouth, and heat filled your body as you became hyper aware of every detail of his gorgeous face. 

“You want,” he rasped as he met your eyes, concern still pouring from his own.

Your words were choked by all those shitty feelings and doubts. 

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

His gentle voice eased the tension in your body, and you were grateful that he hadn’t moved. That he still touched you. 

He was still touching you even though you were broken.  

“I want you to kiss me.” 

~🖤🖤🖤~

You’d ordered the stupid boy to kiss you, your arms crossed as you tried to act like you didn’t care. He’d lost the bet, and had to do whatever you asked. 

“Ew, gross! I’m not doing that.”

Law stuck his tongue out, pretending to be sick.

“You lost the bet,” you scolded, punching his shoulder. “Want me to tell everyone you’re an oathbreaker?”

“Why do you wanna kiss me anyway? I’m sick,” he questioned, a hint of hurt in his voice as he gestured to the pale spots on his face. 

“I don’t care if you’re sick. I like you how you are.” The confession slipped out, and heat rushed to your face as you clamped your hands over your mouth.

“You like me,” he taunted, smirking as he poked your burning cheek. “Ha, you’re such a girl.”

“Am not,” you yelled, your hands going misty with embarrassment. 

“So, all I gotta do is kiss you, and we’ll be square?”

You nodded quickly, not sure if you should trust him. 

“Fine,” he complained, leaning in. 

You didn’t know what the big deal was about kissing. His lips were cold and scratchy when he pressed them against yours for a few seconds, then he scowled at you as he pulled away. 

“That was dumb,” he deadpanned, poking your side. 

“You’re dumb!”

He stuck his tongue out at you, and you chased Law down until he swore to never tell a soul. 

~🖤🖤🖤~

“Ew, gross,” Law grinned, your mouth falling open in shock. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he teased, moving his smug face closer to yours. “Kissing you sounds gross.”

“You fucking ass,” you seethed, struggling to get out of his grapple so you could punch him. “I can’t believe–”

He let out a needy sound as he crashed his lips onto yours, and you moaned against him. Your back arched when he released his hold on your arms to cradle your face. 

A sob of relief escaped you, and you felt like you’d lost your mind, your hands clawing at his back to pull him closer. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against yours. “I should–”

“No more ‘sorry's,” you ordered, “I just want you to kiss me.”

Law chuckled, his voice coming back in a wicked rasp. 

“Ew, gross.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Sorry about the gruesome, but I hope you enjoyed the wholesome Law with his childhood sweetheart. I adore this man 🥰

Note for the timeline: The childhood flashback occurred shortly before Cora took Law away, so both the reader and Law had known each other over 2 years, and were both between 12-13 yrs old. At the present time in the story, both the reader and Law are around 25 years old.

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass

Part 4

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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[winterrrnight]

congratulations on 100! i love your works and i’m very excited for your future ones 💘

could i please get a before the coffee gets cold; rafe with number 11?

ahhh thank you sooo much!! <33 you've been so supportive throughout it all and that just means the whole world to me 🫶🏻🫶🏻 this fic, it's so different than what I usually write, so it's definitely experimental. I'm nervous about what kind of feedback it will receive, so I really hope you like this!

I can't get enough

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: Rafe simply cannot get enough of you.

WARNINGS: intimate moments between reader and Rafe, but they aren't written with a sexual intent, fluff (kinda tooth rotting fluff 🫢)

EDITH SPEAKS: this is either very well written and one of my best, or it's so cringey and horrible that all it's traces should be removed from the internet. which one do you think this is 😃

PROMPTS REQUESTED: "I know I've kissed you like, 10 times, but just like another 10, please."

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The moonlight shines in through the curtains, cascading a sliver glow throughout the entire room. You're lying on the bed with Rafe sitting in your lap, as he leans in to press kisses against your lips. For a moment, his lips linger on yours for more than just a few seconds, and you feel his heavy breathing mixing with yours, your limbs entangled with his.

You gently pull back and hold his face in your hands, softly brushing his hair out of his eyes. He closes his eyes at your warm touch, just feeling your hands trace his skin.

Rafe holds one of your hands in his and presses a kiss to your palm, slowly kissing up your arm and reaching your shoulder. You giggle when you feel his hair tickle your cheeks. He now reaches where he had started: your lips.

With swollen lips and a heavy heart, you pull Rafe back from you. He looks at you with a pout.

"What?" You giggle at his cute expression.

"I just want to keep on kissing you right now, you just look so kiss-able," he says softly. You gently intertwine your hand with his, your gaze never leaving his.

"I don't think that's a word," you mumble, your other hand moving to his hair and your fingers instantly twirling the strands of his silky hair.

"Let me just. . ." he whispers, attaching his lips back to yours and you smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. You take in the taste of the apple pie he had just less than an hour ago, his own sweet taste mixing with that of the pie to create a symphony of a sugary mess.

When you both feel yourself running out of breathe, Rafe pulls back again and just looks at you. Your hand now rests against his waist, and with a gentle push, you help him get off your lap. He lays next to you, and you instantly lay your head on top of his chest, your fingers tracing shapes onto his bare skin.

Even in this silence, Rafe's lips just cannot leave your skin. He's pressing butterfly kisses to your forehead and cheeks constantly, whispering little sweet nothings to you with each kiss.

"You're my everything, you know that right?"

"I cannot think of living a life without you."

"You and me, forever and always."

"I love you so much, I'll do anything for you."

You let your eyes flutter shut as you feel heat rush to your cheeks on hearing these words. His relaxed voice creates a calm aura around you, all your body muscles relaxing immediately.

You look at him to see him already looking at you, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I know I've kissed you like, 10 times, but just like another 10, please," he says, his hand resting against your cheek. You press a kiss to his bare chest and shift yourself in his lap.

"I think you've kissed me a lot more than just 10 times," you giggle, "but yes, kiss me some more. Please." His lips are pulled in the biggest grin and it doesn't even take him a second to pull you so close to him, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he wishes to never let you go.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

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