#he didn't even leave the pieces behind

[wearily-confused]

SO

I... Acknowledge that I am a hoarder

BUT

That does not mean you can just walk in and tear apart all my pages and throw them away, they are important! to me I have emotional attachment™ to them!!!

[zeravmeta]

we give garp a lot of (rightly deserved) shit but unironically like 90% of the criticisms towards him i see not only ignore the wider worldbuilding context of one piece but also don't acknowledge how sengoku is like the worst friend ever

[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

Something rubbed against his leg beneath the table. Jon saw red eyes staring up at him. “Hungry again?” he asked. There was still half a honeyed chicken in the center of the table. Jon reached out to tear off a leg, then had a better idea. He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs. Ghost ripped into it in savage silence. His brothers and sisters had not been permitted to bring their wolves to the banquet, but there were more curs than Jon could count at this end of the hall, and no one had said a word about his pup. He told himself he was fortunate in that too. His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke. He swallowed another gulp of wine and watched his direwolf devour the chicken. Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal. Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

Jon I, AGOT

It's interesting that GRRM would dedicate several paragraphs to a seemingly unimportant exchange between a boy, his wolf, and an unfriendly third party. But there's just something about this passage that has continued to nag at me for years since I first read it because, considering how heavy handed GRRM was with the foreshadowing in AGOT, this feels important.

Jon is sitting at table full of squires - aka would be knights. We don't really know who they are or what families they belong to, but it's safe to assume that they come from a certain level of privilege; this is considering the fact that it cannot be financially easy to be a squire. And these boys already have a slew of tales detailing all their previous knightly exploits regarding "battle and bedding and the hunt" which suggests that they have some capital. So you have boys who will soon be men. And they will, presumably, become men of some power.

These lads eat their fill of the chicken until only half remains, which Jon then gives to Ghost. The direwolf's name is not so important here but what he represents is. Throughout the series, we're told that Ghost is reminiscent of the weirwood trees (because of his red eyes and white fur). He's stated to be of and from the Old Gods and since he's a personification of the weirwoods, he might as well be one of them. It's almost as if Jon is presenting whatever is left on the table to the Old Gods (Ghost). He lets them devour his offerings while he silently watches. And the motif of watching is so interesting here because it's kind of like Jon takes on a stewardship role - to watch over land/people/etc. He oversees Ghost eating the chicken, so he's overseeing whatever has been given to the Old Gods. This is not new imagery to his arc. As a brother of the Night's Watch and eventually its leader, we have several instances where he leads people to adopting the Old Gods in some fashion. In ADWD, several recruits swear their vows to the Old Gods while he watches on as their Lord Commander. The Old Gods are also primarily of the North and we're told that Jon has more of the north in him than his brothers; interesting that this also includes Bran. So perhaps whatever is being offered to the Old Gods relates to the North.

We must also note that Jon initially thinks to give only a small portion, a leg, before pivoting and providing the entire thing. It feels to me a bit like the process of carving up a kingdom or something similar. The lords (represented by the squires) take what they want and leave aside what they don't; or perhaps they have eaten to their fill and can take no more. Then when his time comes, Jon first considers a small piece of land/group of people before eventually absorbing all of whatever is left behind. The concept of carving up a kingdom rings harder considering that we have several callbacks to the ideals of kingship in this chapter. Robert, Jaime, Tyrion, and even Mance though we don't know it yet, all play into this. And then there's the aspect of Jon letting the chicken slip between his legs which evokes birth/fatherhood, a very curious choice when GRRM could've just had Jon place the chicken on the floor. So land/people are carved up and Jon then uses whatever is left to birth his own type of kingdom. And this kingdom is one for the Old Gods.

This also touches on something that has been quite prevalent throughout Jon's arc. It's the concept of accepting the "others" or "those left over" who live apart from the accepted social norms. Arya (a tomboy), Sam (a gender non-confirming boy), the Night's Watch (criminals, extra sons, and men who have no future left or place to go), and even the wildlings are all examples of this. And Jon takes on a leadership/paternal role to every single one of them. He looks after them as a leader would/should. Sometimes, in the case of Arya and the wildlings, he's equated to a king. He's a steward/shepherd/king. There's messianic undertones to this:

Come unto me, all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30).

If you're familiar with Judeo-Christian tradition, you'll know that Jesus is often personified as one who spent the majority his time among the outcasts. The idea is that he came to save them too and that anew kingdom (or new earth depending on your translation) would spring up after the end of the world where he would forever rule as king; which presents the idea of a final king after the earthly ones are done away with. Now GRRM isn't so heavy handed with Christian allusions as other authors out there, but he does have a Catholic background and Jon is so overtly a Jesus figure. And in Revelation, Jesus is king and god at the very end....

One last thing: the mention of the mongrel who challenges Jon has always been rather interesting but confusing to me. A mongrel doesn't really relate to one specific type of dog. But it's interesting that Jon notes several roaming about where he is. They follow the serving girls who carry the food to be offered. Mongrels are used to describe antagonist/villainous groups in ASOIAF. Sometimes, they're used to describe slavers in Essos. But what's interesting is that most of the time, they're used to describe Euron's Ironborn especially in Victorian's POV. So I don't think the mongrel who challenges Ghost is a supernatural threat of death (i.e., the Others) but rather a human one. They represent those who are called to the scene once the lords have finished playing their games. It almost feels like a feast for (carrion) crows....

But it doesn't really matter because this mongrel isn't much of a challenge for Ghost. Though the mongrel is much larger, the direwolf is able to fend her off very effortlessly. Given that "mongrel" is used to describe Ironborn raiders, could this exchange between Ghost and the mongrel point to reavers or sea raiders who rise and fail challenge Jon kingdom? There is a historical King Jon Stark who did this....

When sea raiders landed in the east, Jon drove them out and built a castle, the Wolf's Den, at the mouth of the White Knife, so as to be able to defend the mouth of the river.[1][2] His son, Rickard, followed him on the throne and annexed the Neck to the north.

ref.

So this might shed some light not only on Jon's already published arc, but also on what we can expect in the future. We have some foreshadowing through Jon's ADWD dream that he will not only rise with the dawn (thereby live through the Long Night), but will be in a position to lead people (wildings in that chapter) to a new peace after a hard fought war. Also remember that the wildlings, rather enthusiastically, swear oaths to him as if swearing oaths to their king. In this instance, the supernatural (a dream of the war for the dawn) is followed by the natural/human. So perhaps this particular passage (and Jon's dream) can be used to predict that Jon comes out on top, and quite effortlessly too, as a leader. And he becomes a leader who rules by association with the Old Gods; or rules a kingdom for them.

To end, I think it's of note that this passage immediately precedes Jon's conversation with Benjen where he voices his desire to go out on his own - the hero's call to action. This is the adventure that's going to kickstart his growth as a man, warrior and most importantly, a leader. So it looks like before we even began, GRRM telegraphed how it would all end in just three short paragraphs.

[landojpg04]

MDNI slight suggestive and language

Ghost definitely has a motorcycle and a truck. He'll drive the truck when he knows it'll be a long day doing intel and paperwork. But especially on a Friday when the workload is light, he’ll come in on his bike knowing he’ll be able to enjoy the ride.

He started riding the bike more when you gave the comment-

Guys who ride motorcycles are ten times more attractive with their bike

You didn’t say it to him per se but rather to a friend of yours on base, and he overheard. He likes to think that the bike is his good luck charm, as you agreed to a first date when he drove it. But despite you loving the bike as much as you loved him, he never let you on it. Always exclaiming it would be too dangerous.

He's in the garage, music playing lightly from the speaker as he cleans and messes with some of the gears. You watch in awe at the door. Never in a million years did you think you would be here. In Lt’s old t-shirt, sipping tea and watching him indulge in normalcy on a Sunday afternoon. When you transferred to the base, you always heard rumors about the man behind the mask and the name Ghost. But behind that was this man full of love.

“Enjoying the show, darling?” He said, looking up from the bike to see you.

“Just admiring.” You said.

“The bike or the rider?” He said smirking.

You admired and mirrored that smirk. Something you thought you would never see in your lifetime. But after trials of trust, the mask and guards came down, bearing all the luggage, and past to your welcoming arms. 

“Both,” you said, walking over to him. He was seated on a chair and leaned back to welcome you in between his legs. 

He peered up, his eyes glimmering in the sunlight that peaked through the window.

“Let me ride.” You said, peering down.

“You can ride me anytime.” He said, being cheeky.

You groaned at his antics and pouted towards him.

“Do you not trust me on your precious baby, Si?”

He looked between you and the bike. It wasn’t that he didn't trust you. He knows how dangerous riding is. He doesn’t want to let you on just in case something happens. He’s come to terms with something happening to him a long time ago. But you. He just got you and would put you in a bubble if it meant keeping you safe. 

“I trust you. I just don't trust others.” He says, moving a piece of hair from your face. He moves his hand to cup your jaw. He guided you to his lips for a quick peck.

You leave your forehead on him while he moves his hands down to your hips.

He can tell you were annoyed with your answers. You guys bonded over this bike and he truly believes that being able to ride it one day was the only thing keeping you around.

That was far from the truth. You just wanted to straddle something other than Simons's dick.

He stood up and moved you to the side.

He pushed the brake down and moved to the back of the bike.

"We can start with basics. Posture and positions." He said looking at you.

Stunned by his answer and quick change in answers, you didn't move till he said, "Ok, I guess you don't want to." You feet quickly moved to stand by him.

He went through the basics, teaching you how to mount and where to keep your feet. After, it was your turn to demonstrate your understanding. You go to the side and lift a leg to straddle the seat.

Simon from the back saw how you were a natural at this. Your ass is plump on the seat you lean to hold the handles with a slight arch in your back. Simon thought to himself why he hadn't let you do this earlier. He was so caught up in how good you look he didn't even hear you ask him if what you were doing was good.

You looked over to see him in a daze. He quickly grabbed his phone and took a photo of you on his bike, clad in his boxers and old t-shirt; every inch of you screamed that you were his. And he never loved anything more than this moment right now.

He walked to the front of the bike.

"Is this alright Si?" You asked him when you finally are met with his face.

He just smiled and leaned in to kiss you.

"My gorgeous girl on my bike," He said in between kisses.

You giggled and removed your hands from the handles to his neck and shoulder.

"Get off the bike and get inside right now." He said, pulling away. Laughing, you got off and felt a slight smack hit your ass. This was definitely not your last time on his bike.

[navybrat817]

Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?

I wish I had the answer, nonnie!

Slip Inside

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.

“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.

He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.

Like you knew he was watching you.

“I love you,” he breathed into the room.

You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.

You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.

And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.

Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.

“Mine,” he whispered.

Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.

If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.

“You're mine,” he growled lowly.

Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.

You didn't know he'd come home tonight.

He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.

Only him.

He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.

You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.

And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.

He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.

He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.

But he had to make it last and make you come first.

With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.

He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.

“Bucky?” You mumbled.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”

You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.

“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”

You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.

“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”

Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.

He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.

You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”

“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”

He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.

“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.

He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.

“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”

Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.

“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”

Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.

We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[chuluoyi]

fear

- gojo satoru x reader

his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards.

genre/warnings: angst, gojo being mean, one scene with a worried nanami *wink*, injured reader, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end

notes: *sigh* my coping mechanism is still gojo’s past arc, which is why this piece takes place on that timeline. just a little context: reader is in the same class with nanami & haibara and was in the same mission that took haibara's life. this is probably the longest oneshot i've written so far sooo… enjoy! :)

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

A year and a half had passed since Suguru embarked on his path as a curse user. In that one year and a half, Satoru had finished his last year at Jujutsu High, and now was in the halls of his alma mater, speaking to the newly appointed headmaster who was none other than his teacher.

"You're applying to become a teacher?" Yaga asked again with a frown. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Granted, he was his most troublesome pupil. "Why, Satoru?"

"If I said it's because I want to train young sorcerers to be strong, would you believe me?"

That was not a lie. It was actually 50% of his main reasons anyway. The other 50% was to repent what he missed with Suguru when he chose his dark path—his contempt with the current system of this jujutsu world.

"I would," Yaga responded gruffly. To him, Satoru was irritating, but he also knew that he was also extremely capable, and thus everything he did wasn't just out of nowhere. "But you still have to submit your applications. We can't make an exception even if you come from a prestigious clan."

"That's fine with me," he grinned. "Thanks, sensei."

On summer days, he'd get reminded of Suguru and silly things they had done together. Eating shaved ice, cycling together, driving either you, Shoko or Nanami mad. Satoru missed those days, it hadn't been the same ever since. Not knowing if his best friend was alright—if he was still alive at all—was exhausting.

Sometimes, he felt like he was the only one who was affected by his departure, the only one who stayed right where Suguru left him. Shoko didn't seem ruffled, if anything she just went to more bars and pachinko parlors as of late. Nanami was always a recluse, he never disclosed his feelings. You mourned him, but it was clear that most part of you would always be more focused on Haibara's death.

Satoru understood that he couldn't force anyone to feel what he felt, and he had no right to. But sometimes, he just wanted someone to connect with at his level. Someone to get him just like Suguru did.

And so when he got back to his condo that night—just right next to the one he rented for Megumi and Tsumiki, since he had moved out of his dorm—to find his girlfriend there with a big smile and a tray of cupcakes, unaware of everything and anything, he merely scoffed to himself.

"Satoru, you're back," you acknowledged, beaming like the sunshine you were. "I just baked these for the kids. Do you want some?"

Usually he'd smother you, throw some pickup lines here and there and say yes, but today, he just felt drained. "No." And with that, he stalked away to the bathroom, not glancing back at you.

It was wrong. But tonight he just wanted some peace and quiet, and so keeping his silence seemed to be the best choice as he didn't want to start a pointless argument with you. But you weren’t anything but observant, and definitely noticed that something was amiss with him.

"Are you... alright?" You approached him warily after he came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "Where were you today?"

"Just somewhere," he replied curtly. Afterwards he turned on the hairdryer, drowning the whole place with the noise even as you stood behind him with a visible question mark.

But you were still there after he dried his hair. "Is something bothering you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, concerned. By all means, you mean well. You just wanted to know if he could use your help at all.

When you pulled that expression, he couldn't help feeling annoyed, like he wanted you to take a hint, but you just didn't. "If you know, then just shut it."

It was probably the first time since the two of you got together that Satoru actually said something harsh. But you still tried to be reasonable though, bless you.

"Satoru, I don't know what got into your nerves like this, but I think sleeping through it might help. Have a rest."

"Why are you talking as if you know it?" he snapped, finally turning to you with his cold gaze. "You might not know anything, so don't be a know-it-all. Just mind your own business."

Now you were frustrated with his reply. "Once again, I don't know what happened to you. But if you're taking it out on me because I'm the closest you have—"

"Who said that?" Satoru didn't know where he got all this venom from. It was just at the forefront of his mind and he just got the urge to spew it. "You're considering yourself closest to me? Where did you get that big head from?"

You were aghast, and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. "Let me guess, it's about Geto-san, isn't it? Or the higher ups. Either of that must be what causing you to blindly place your anger on me."

"So what if it was? It isn't like you'll understand anyway."

"Satoru," you started, trying to even your breathing. "What happened to Geto-san isn't your fault. I've been telling you this. It can't be helped—"

"Can't be helped?" he jeered. "Do you know why it has come to this?" his tone took a dangerous edge as he stepped closer. He reached for you, grasping your wrist.

"Maybe because I was too blind back then. If it weren't for you—if only I didn't spend that much time on you, maybe he would still be here."

Did he just say that? Did he just imply that he had regretted the two of you getting together?

You felt your lower lip start to tremble and something seemed to obscure and blur your vision, making it hard to see him clearly. "You... don't mean that."

"Really?" the corner of his lips curled into a disparaging smile. "You never know. Before you know it, this can be over already. After all, I could have anyone out there that I want. Maybe someone less nosey than—”

That did it. You wrenched your arm out of his grip violently, as your first tear fell. His smirk vanished too, replaced with a total stillness to cover his sudden panic that was followed by a sudden sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"You selfish, self-obsessed jerk," you hissed through watery eyes. He was taken aback, even amidst your anger and possible fear of him, your still managed to throw daggers at him. "Fine. You have it. I'll see myself out."

Satoru never wanted you to leave. Honestly, he would've made you stay. But he wasn't in the right state of mind and it was too late to take back what he said. He didn't want to mess this up even further.

You left the cupcakes, even throwing it away just to spite him. Driven by pain and humiliation, you choked back your sob and didn't spare a glance at him as you shut the door.

Peace and quiet. There he had it, he thought as he clenched his fists, at the cost of everything else.

Leaving that condo, every step you took felt like needles piercing your shattered heart. You wiped your tears roughly. No, you refused to cry over such asshole. He made it clear, didn't he? Whatever it was that you two shared, it was at the cost of his best friend leaving him. So now the blame was on you.

If you were thinking clearly, you would've understood that his words were likely a result of his own pent-up pain and frustration that he had kept to himself for some while. But you had no patience for that or even pinpoint what you felt right now—anger, disappointment or dread, or perhaps all three. You just felt wrongly accused.

Your feet brought you back to your dorm in the school. Now it wasn't as bustling as it once were. After Satoru and Shoko's graduation, you didn't really get close to anyone. There was Ichiji, but he treated you more like a mentor rather than a classmate.

As you sank into the comforts of your bed, You replayed the events, trying to find where it went wrong—and found nothing. After all, you had already said all that could be said. It wasn't just him who lost Geto, but you, Shoko and Nanami did too, but it was more convenient for Satoru to blame everyone else rather than trying to understand that they too shared this pain.

Nevertheless, you were disappointed. You didn't expect half of what he spouted, and it got you doubting everything you had.

"You've royally fucked up."

Satoru exhaled, glaring at Shoko through the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

The reverse cursed technique user threw him a blank stare, taking in everything from his disheveled hair to his wrinkled trousers. "Gojo, as much as I can’t care less about your sorry ass, I'm saying this not out of concern for you, but rather for Y/N. You are an asshole."

The puff of smoke she blew expanded to create a cloud-like shape. "Yaga-sensei was our teacher. His student is now a mass murderer and wanted dead. Can you even imagine how he feels? And I can't believe I'm saying this—but weren't there three of us?"

A week had gone by and instead of doing the right thing like trying to get into your good graces, Satoru was in Shoko's infirmary in the headquarters instead. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for by going here. Maybe some lingering taste of his happier student days, and Shoko was the only one remaining.

Three of us, huh... she was right. That was precisely why he came here after all.

"You're just sulking because it seems no one cares about your best friend being the best there is. But have you thought about how our juniors also lost Haibara? Right in front of their eyes? Haibara was our friend too."

He was wrong, of course he was. Satoru realized that now. But it felt wrong to ask for your forgiveness now, not to mention the disrupting thought he had—should he let you go for good altogether?

The phone suddenly rang with such fervor that made Shoko utter a swear word. She was on call duty for the rescue team today, and it was supposedly a peaceful day until Satoru decided to barge in to become her company. "Hello? Ichiji? What—speak clearly, I can't hear you."

She switched it to loudspeaker. "...iri-san! Ieiri-san—h-help—please—"

It was noisy, and blaring at the same time, and Ichiji was... Sobbing? Choking? His voice was terribly muffled and—

"L/N-san!" he cried, and Satoru remembered at that moment that you should be in a mission with Ichiji, he remembered you telling him before.

"Hic—s-she fell... hic—she fell! B-blood! She i-is bleeding so much! I-Ieiri-san—hic—s-send help! Please!"

"Hey, stay awake. Breathe. Just breathe."

Everything hurt. Most notably, your head. You could hardly think straight when all you felt was blinding pain and how your breaths came in short wheezes. 

Your vision was blurry. The numbness had started to set in and chills ran up and down your spine. You couldn't make out who in front of you was. Was it Ichiji, who went with you in this mission? The only thing that glared was blue.

"You can't sleep, you hear me?" the voice was commanding, willing you to do his bidding. It was familiar, but usually his tone of voice was much lighter, happier.

Satoru.

But why was he here? He wasn't in this mission. It was supposed to be a mission for you and Ichiji.

You remembered getting the cursed spirit after manifesting your domain expansion, until in its last ditch attempt, it went after Ichiji. You had no choice—even when your cursed energy had burned out, you still shoved him away at the cost of being flung from the top of a building.

Not again. Not after Haibara. You’d gladly pay the price if it meant you didn't have to see anyone die in front of you again.

"I..." You managed to croak out—breathing hurt, and you felt your hands being grasped tightly.

"Hey, just breathe. Y/N. Look at me.” Through your blurry haze, you focused on that cold blue, and you saw him. Satoru's sharp eyes, pursed lips and frown. He's really here.

Satoru always said that if there was a cursed spirit apocalypse, then Ichiji would be the first to die. You used to scold him for that, but now as you a laid here possibly dying in your own pool of blood, you found it to be true.

Yet at the same time you knew that with him here, Ichiji must be safe already, and it gave you reassurance so great even when you were on the verge of dying. "I... can't..."

"Yes, you can. Just look at me," he firmly rebuked, his voice came out in a hiss. For all the time you had been with him, you had never heard him so forceful. "If you close your eyes now, I won't forgive you. So please, just hang in there."

It was a struggle to take in any air and darkness encroached on your vision as your consciousness began slipping away.

And everything faded to nothingness.

Satoru honestly thought he had no fears. His worst fear had fully realized after all—Suguru going away into the darkness. What more could he possibly fear?

But when he heard Ichiji's distress call for rescue team, about how you fell from a rooftop of a building and unconscious, he realized that it was a fear he didn't know existed. His mind got disoriented and he teleported to the scene on impulse. He just had to see it for himself. With their petty argument still lacking closure, he felt even worse.

And the sight before him gave him so much fright he never thought was possible.

It was a mistake, he should have brought Shoko along.

You had laid there like a broken doll, your eyes dimmed, and not been able to breathe. He desperately tried to keep you awake, his presence beside you, yet it didn't seem to matter. He watched helplessly as you passed out in his arms.

Satoru felt nothing. The panic that had set in was suddenly gone as your limp body slumped against him, replaced by incessant ringing in his ears and tremor wracking his nervous system. It wasn't long until the rescue team came to retrieve you and even then he still felt numb. He rejected the idea that you might possibly die on him.

That went on until Shoko, who assisted in the emergency treatment, came out of the surgery, sweat on her forehead.

"It's even worse than the aftermath of the guardian deity mission last year," Shoko explained with a grim expression. "Her brain has sustained damage and it affects everything. It may take her quite a while before she can go back to the field."

When she said that, Satoru felt terror washed over him again. You almost died—was all he perceived.

The two of you had no contact for a week just because of his ego. He could still recall that day with vivid clarity, feeling a burning ache in his chest. If someone were to ask him what heartbreak was like, now he certainly would he able the to tell them the two instances in which he experienced them. What he felt now mirrored the same stinging sensation he had felt when Suguru left him.

He visited you when he was allowed to, and you were still unconscious, with many machines connected to your body. It was a sight he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to. He had seen you injured before, but never seen you in your own pool of blood, so this made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Stupid," he whispered, gently rubbing your forehead. His eyes remained fixated on you as you rested, his insides still churning with emotions. "You're not weak, and you're not hopeless." Once upon a time, Satoru might have thought of you as weak, but now he knew better.

"So why you always pick the worst decision?" The more he thought this could've been avoided, the more irked he was. The thought that he could have done something to prevent it intensified the sting of guilt, and he continued to punish himself with it.

And the more he dwelled on the idea that he had hurt you prior to this, the tighter his breath became.

But that was who you were. Self-sacrificing to a fault. And he loved you for that. There was no way of him letting you go now.

It astonished even himself—that he was capable of this love thing. At first it was an attraction, but now that you had been going on for more than a year, it felt like it was no longer a silly infatuation after all.

"Hurry and wake up, will you?" Satoru gently brushed your hair aside, his eyes fixed on you. He didn't know it even as his gut twisted, his frown deepened and his touch quivered, that he was worried sick. "I have a lot to make up for."

And he left you with a tender brush of his lips against your forehead.

Nanami Kento was the first person you saw when you awoke from coma.

You struggled to regain your senses, still feeling absolutely broken. The dull throb on the back of your head was still there, and as if you had found yourself trapped in a fog, you were only able to move sluggishly.

"You're awake?" his gruff voice greeted, laced with concern. In his hand were a bucket of fresh flowers and fruits basket, which he soon placed at the table next to your bed.

It was unexpected, because ever since the tragedy that costed Haibara's life, the two of you had been drifting apart.

You nodded, and let out a hum in response—all you could manage at the moment.

"Thank God." Nanami sounded relieved as he pinched the bridge between his eyes, and you were moved that he had shown this degree of concern.

Your remaining classmate, who suffered the burden of Haibara's life just like you. He was always quiet or brooding somewhere, hiding his own feelings.

You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. The fact that he visited you meant that he hadn't decided to cut you out of his life yet.

"Gojo-san is out today, but he'll be back by afternoon," he said, mistranslating your tears as some sort of a want to have your annoying—ex?—boyfriend at your side.

The two of you were still not on talking terms, weren’t you?

You so badly wanted to say thank you to him—and tell him that no, you weren't looking for Satoru—but it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"Huh?" Nanami then realized what you were trying to say, and a faint smile graced his lips. "Just... get well soon, L/N. Have a good rest."

Just before you drifted back to sleep, you could hear him sigh and mutter, "Hello, Gojo-san? L/N has awakened. Just letting you know is all.”

You weren't sure how much time had passed when you woke up the second time, but the curtains were already drawn and only darkness came from the window. Your body felt lighter, but you still felt like a mess and and couldn't help but groan in discomfort.

Satoru was there, he perked up at the noise you made. And you realized that it was the first time in about a week that he faced you after that disasterous almost-breakup.

He walked up to you, his expression was more hopeful than you had ever seen him before, like a kid whose wish had been granted. He slowly shifted to sit beside you.

"Hey, welcome back." His voice was soft. It was a change of pace for him, as you were used to seeing him all loud and silly.

Now your voice no longer sounds like a lead. "Hey."

"How are you feeling?" he asked and you took a moment to look at him. He was smiling, but exhaustion reached his bright eyes, dimming them. "You know, with the whole you passing out and almost dying thing?"

His words were almost humorous as he spoke, like he didn't know what else to say except try to lighten the mood, but there was also a strain on his tone, like he was holding back.

"I'm quite fine now, I suppose..." You still felt the lingering pain and dizziness as you slowly sat up. Satoru reached out to steady you—and you realized how his fingers trembled when they made contact with your body—as his brows furrowed with worry when you winced.

"You don't look like it though." His voice dropped and the humor was gone, replaced by this haunted look. You blinked. It was probably the first time you had seem him this ruffled.

He immediately pulled you into a hug, cradling your head to his neck gently, as if to protect and shield you from the world altogether. Exhaling heavily, he leaned on you. "You scared me, you know that?"

You wondered out loud if you really had that hold over him. "Did I?"

"You can't do that to me, you hear?" Satoru stroked your hair, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. His voice quivered. “Don't ever do that again.”

He pulled you tighter against him, but still careful not to crush you.

You let out a snicker, letting go of everything you felt during this horrible week. "Heh, afraid to lose me, huh?"

"Shut up,” he grumbled. “What were you thinking anyway? How did you calculate that freefalling is better than letting that cursed spirit attack Ichiji?”

"He was defenseless. He could die, you know that."

"And you also can," he quipped, upset, pulling away enough to look you squarely in the eyes, his eyes devoid of any expression, yet filled with a raging wave that you could only interpret as undiluted concern.

The emphasis in his tone made you recoil and feel guilty. If you were in his shoes, you probably would've said the same thing and so you had nothing to say to that.

But the more pressing agenda in the list was the unspoken silent treatment the two of you saw fit to use against each other for the last few days. Satoru was the one who decided to address it first.

"About that night..." he faltered, looking away. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."

Satoru always had trouble processing emotions. This time too. He must've a hard time dealing with the anxiety caused by the possibility of him losing you for good, no matter how much he tried to be unaware of it.

"..." You wanted to respond, to make him understand your point, but somehow right now you were just too weary. And he sensed your reluctance. So you blurted the first thing that gnawed at your mind.

“You said you could have any other women out there—”

"No, really—" he started to panic, and it was blatantly too, which surprised you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Us. I don't regret anything. I’m not breaking up with you. Being with you is the happiest I've been ever since Suguru left."

“That's...” you blinked, before letting out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine then. Let's just put it behind us for now.”

“I—” he almost wheezed, his bright blue eyes were overtaken with sheer urgency to explain how wrong everything had been that night. “You must know that I didn’t mean any of it. And that I hate hurting you the way I did. I won’t—”

"Satoru, I understand," you let out another sigh, fidgeting with your fingers. "Sometimes when I’m reminded of Haibara, I also get sad. I don't want to presume but I think I know how you feel. Just next time, maybe," you shifted your gaze on him, seeing how you had his attention fully. Gojo Satoru, the strongest now, was looking at you as if you had his fate in your hands. "Just tell me if you need space and I would have understood."

"Yeah, okay, sure," he responded immediately, relieved, before a lopsided grin appeared on his face, turning him back into your dork slash boyfriend. "So, am I forgiven now?"

"A thank you would be nice."

In the end, he chuckled, seemingly resigned. "You should sleep more."

He positioned himself into bed next to you, and you let him pull you into his chest again. You could feel how his taut back started to relax upon the contact. He pressed his lips on your forehead in a fleeting kiss.

"Promise me you won't pull that stunt again.”

You smirked. "I can't. What if Ichiji—"

"Then just let him die."

You swatted his arm playfully, pressing your head to his chest as he continued to run his fingers on your hair. He cushioned you carefully, and you felt the tension in him slowly melt away with each breath you took. In your mind, you figured he needed this closeness more than you did, if anything, for the sake of his sanity.

“I love you,” he whispered by your ear, kissing it lightly.

“Mmhm.”

As you felt Satoru's calming presence, it helped ease you into slumber. You soon found yourself in a deep sleep, comfortably held in his embrace.

Epilogue

Ichiji gulped as Satoru stared him down, sizing him up as if he was the most despicable creature on this planet.

Okay, he might be. He was a coward, all he could do was trembling in the face of evil. But he had come in peace, even bringing fruits as an offering! He felt bad too that he was the partial cause for you to be this injured.

He was used to Satoru terrorizing him—calling him names, slapping him, and whatnot—and he could take it. Just this time, he really looked like he could murder him on the spot if he wanted to. A small part of Ichiji mourned that you were his girlfriend, because that pretty much sealed his fate that Gojo Satoru could indeed murder him on the spot because he had a valid enough reason to.

"You are—"

"No! I'm sorry, Gojo-san! I'm sorry for my incompetence!"

"Hah?"

If he was mildly irked before, now Satoru was visibly irritated.

"You're not cut out to be a jujutsu sorcerer," he started. "You're useless. You just get in the way most of the time."

Ichiji kept his head down. No, no. He can't cry!

"Get your driving license or I'll slap the shit out of you."

"Oh?" and before he knew it, Satoru had stalked away, leaving him in the dust. How rude! But...

Get a driver license? Quit the jujutsu work?

Hey, that sounds like something I can do!

[remi-thirsts]

𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐂𝐓 !

pairing: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, and toji x fem!reader (separate) summary: when you catch them with a suggestive piece of clothing from your wardrobe... content: kinda suggestive, established relationships, toji has no shame at all, allusions to sexual themes, jerking off, pillow humping(?), roommates to lovers (for geto's) pet names, cursing. lmk if I missed anything. wc: 2.5k

♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

The house was awfully quiet when you arrived home with your shopping bags in hand. "Satoru?" You call out setting all of your stuff down. Nothing. No over dramatic gasps, no 'babyyyyyy you're back!!!!!!" Absolutely nothing.

Satoru hadn't told you he was going anywhere, had he? Sometimes the man talks so much that you drown out his voice, so you can focus on whatever you need to get done. Which means you could have missed something.

Or maybe he's asleep? Only, Satoru doesn't nap if it isn't with you. So... where could he be?

Before going deeper into your home, you remove your shoes and place them neatly on the wobbly shoe rack he built. He insisted he could build anything, when he'd never even picked up a screwdriver in his life. That's kind of what happens when you belong to a wealthy family, but you didn't want to hurt his pride, so you let him build it.

You tread quietly toward your bedroom in hopes of finding him there. The door is cracked open suspiciously, with caution you slowly push the door open, "Satoru are you- uhhh what are you doing?"

The man in question tenses up when he hears your voice. As if you hadn't seen him he hides your lace panties behind his back.

"I was uh," He does that little coughing thing to make him look less suspicious, but if anything it makes him even more suspicious .

"You were 'uh' what?" Satoru thinks you look like a mother scolding a child the way you stand with your hands on your hips.

"I- I was hah- are you really gonna make me say it, baby?" He looks so red, cute.

"Yeah, go ahead and tell me what you were doing snooping through my underwear drawer." He sighs, but it's soon replaced with a sneaky smile.

"Ineedednewjerkmaterial." He says all jumbled up and quietly.

"Speak up, 'Toru." A whine leaves his lips. What a little baby he is.

"I needed something to help me when I think about you while jerking off." He spoke clearly this time, so you stop teasing him.

"Well you can't use those ones, 'cuz those are my favorites. Let me find you a different pair." He's in shock the whole time while watching you dig through the dresser.

"Really? You're just gonna give me a pair?"

"Why not? All you had to do was ask. I'm sure you'll buy me more anyway, knowing you." He snorts at that. It's true, Satoru likes to buy you anything and everything, sexy underwear is no exception.

♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

You've noticed that some of your favorite bras have gone missing since you asked your roommate, Geto, to do your laundry when you get too busy. It was a little suspicious when he seemed more than happy to do your laundry, but who were you to think anything of it when he was making one less chore for you?

Sweet, little, and innocent you, didn't suspect that Geto could be the one stealing your bras, though. He's too much of a gentleman, you think. He always opens doors for you, lets you use the bathroom before he does, and when you aren't up to make something, he'll cook you dinner.

He's a picture perfect roommate so there's no way he could be the one. You'll still ask him his opinion on the matter though, because your bras are not cheap, and if they keep going missing you'll have to buy more.

It's Wednesday, which is the day Geto usually washes your laundry for you. There is a very important job interview you have to leave for in ten minutes so you rush to get your hamper to him.

"Suguru- I um I need your help with something." Geto cannot help but stare you down. You're dressed in a black blazer with a white dress shirt underneath, and a pencil skirt that should reach around to your knees, but because you had bend down earlier to pick something up, the skirt hiked up just a little bit.

"What's up, princess?" The first time he had called you 'princess' you just about had a meltdown. He told you not to think too much of it, it was just a nickname.

The smell of his lotion fills your nostrils and his hair is still wet from his shower. There's also no shirt covering his perfectly built body.

"Well.. uh. Some of my bras are going missing. Can you keep an eye out to make sure there's no pervert at the laundromat stealing my bras?" A chuckle almost leaves his throat. You are too cute for him, of course you wouldn't blame him for the disappearance of your bras.

"Of course, I'll keep watch." Since you are running short on time you give him a tight lipped smile and quickly make a run out of your apartment.

"Cute." Slips from his lips, although no one hears it.

-------

There's hope. The interview had seemed to go great, the woman interviewing you said she'd give you a call letting you know if you got the job or not.

To celebrate the potential job, you bought yourself a pint of ice cream on the way home.

When you unlocked the door you didn't even announce yourself, assuming he might have been out or napping.

Before going to your room, you grab a spoon from the kitchen in order to eat the deliciously sweet treat you bought for yourself.

Your room was at the end of the hallway so you would have to pass Geto's room to get to yours. As you walk past his room, you almost drop your spoon in shock when you hear your supposed goody two shoes roommate moan out your name.

A series of grunts and 'fucks' leave his lips after the sudden call of your name. Curiosity killed the cat, huh? Well you don't care enough to let that stop you. It's rude not to knock but when Geto's calling out your name like that you think you have plenty of reason to barge in.

"Suguru what are you-" You should have just went to your room. The sight you walked in on had you dropping your ice cream and spoon on the floor. Geto is not as innocent as you thought he was, not when he's got your favorite laced bra attached to his pillow while he fucks it like they're your tits.

You would think he'd have the decency to stop when you caught him, but you catching him only made him speed up, his hips snapping at an extraordinary pace.

"Fuck, princess. Didn't want you to find out like this. Shit- need your tits so bad." He cums with no shame over the part of the pillow that would be the crevice of your breasts.

You can't even be mad at him, it's hot, but you'll still give him a peace of your mind.

"Suguru! That's- that's my bra! And you- gosh you are so perverted!!!! I never would have thought-" It takes him a minute, but when he comes down from his high, he apologizes sincerely for taking your bras.

And now that you know he wants you just as much as you want him, you indulge in his fantasies of fucking your pretty tits.

♡ 𝐊. 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

He was going on a business trip for a few weeks and took a pair or two with him so he wouldn't have to bother you.

It doesn't even register that any are missing either, because he picks the pairs that you don't care too much about. They don't have to be sexy, Nanami loves anything you wear.

The only reason he does get caught is because he allows it to happen.

It's the second week, day two of his business trip and he decided to have a drink with his coworker, which he never does, but he misses you and a drink would help, even if only for a little while.

Nanami's toleration is high, so one drink turns into seven and he starts to feel the effects around the 8th one, which his coworker cuts him off after that.

"Dude, that's a lot, even for you." He says to Nanami, which he has to agree with, but his drunk mind doesn't want to.

"'s not nearly the 'mount I drink when 'm at home." His coworker chuckles and pays his tab along with Nanami's. (nanami will pay him back in the morning when he's in his right mind)

Said coworker drops him off at his hotel room and makes sure he gets in okay, he also reminds him to, "Call your wife, she might get worried if she doesn't hear from you."

He will. He'll call you as soon as this boner goes away... just thinking about you along with the alcohol in his body has him hard.

He stumbles through his suit case looking for the panties he'd packed in there. A smile graces his face when he finds them, they aren't cute, at all by any means.

He chose them not because they're sexy but because they're just normal, meaning you wear them a lot more often.

His steps are heavy as he about marches to the bed he's been sleeping in for the past two weeks. His conscious starts screaming at him not to jerk off with your panties but in the end, his dick wins.

-------

It's about 11:43 pm when you receive a face time call from your husband. He called you earlier, telling you about his day, so you find it a little unusual for him to be calling at this hour.

When you slide the accept button, you're met with your husband's dick and your panties covering his tip. For a second your eyes widen trying to register what exactly is going on, once you do, arousal pools in your gut.

"What's this honey?" He strokes his dick faster when he hears your voice.

"Keep talking, pretty." He's completely gone, you notice. His cheeks flushed a pretty pink and his eyes rolled back.

"I see you have my panties, what's that about?" A low groan leaves his throat but it's cut off by his words.

"Knew I would miss you. Packed them in my suitcase." The chances of him remembering any of this in the morning was low. Nanami usually has a hard time remembering anything from when he was drunk.

So, being the tease you are, you take a screenshot of him in this state.

"Fuck fuck fuck, gonna cum, please keep talking, Honey." You do as he wishes, saying random little things to help him reach his orgasm. It happens so fast and he's got you rubbing yourself through your shorts.

"You still with me baby?" You ask after he goes quiet for a few seconds. It doesn't take a genius to realize that he was knocked out.

You

[image attached] pervert 😊 sent 11:58 pm

My love 💖

I'm not going to drink anymore on this trip. sent 7:39 am

You

You should, it's hot when I get phone calls from my needy husband 😝 sent 7:40 am

♡ 𝐂. 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

He can't hide it. In fact, he gets caught before he even makes it anywhere with them.

Last night was another night shift so you got home at the dawn hours of the night. A shower and a hot pocket later you were in bed. You made the assumption that Choso had gone out to see his brother, since you didn't see him anywhere in the apartment.

The sound of rustling around awakes you from your sleep.

"Cho? Is that you, baby?" It didn't sound concerned or anything, just a sleepy mumble.

"Oh uh- yes. Hi, good morning." His words are rushed like a kid who's trying not to get into trouble for something they did.

Your pretty eyes peek open to see Choso digging through your drawer for something.

"What are you looking for, babe?" He starts to stutter and try to come up with something you'll believe.

"You were picking out a shirt for me in my bra drawer?" His cheeks turn a bright red as he tries to explain himself.

"It's not what you think-! Okay it is what you think... but I haven't been seeing you much, since you always work late so I wanted to take one of your bras..." He's so cute. Gosh how could you not give him one.

"Okay, pick one out and I'll tell you if you can take it or not. You have to bring it back later though, it's not for you to keep.

He shakes his head furiously fast like a bobble head, and you can't help but laugh.

Choso is the most adorable thing to walk this earth.

♡ 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

He doesn't even try to hide it, AT ALL. Today was the day of your once a week girls night with your friends. It was usually just some karaoke and dinner and on the occasion; shopping.

Instead of the usual your girls had taken you partying at a club. It was fun to dance around with your friends and scream song lyrics while being slightly intoxicated. Luckily, you aren't the designated driver.

When you had clumsily slipped your shoes off in your drunken stupor you realized that it was quiet in the house.

Too quiet, even for your husband. Toji's definitely up to something, because he'd usually be waiting on the couch for you to return home, and he's not.

"Oh baby~" It's slurred tremendously but you still get it out. Silence returns your call, so you take it upon yourself to find him.

The first and most obvious place to look is the bedroom; you'll start there and keep going. The door was closed but you could still hear him. Upon contrary belief Toji is loud during sex. He probably couldn't shut up to save his life.

His loud groans and moans start to cut off meaning he must be close. Is he watching a video he's recorded of you? Potentially.

Most would probably leave their boyfriend alone to finish so he doesn't get embarrassed, but this Toji Fushiguro we are talking about; he does not care.

You slowly pull the door open only to find out that your husband is not in fact watching a video, but getting off to your panties around his dick.

"Tojiiii, without me?" It doesn't even click that he's using your underwear at the moment.

"Fuck- I thought you weren't gonna be back until-" You must have shocked the shit out of him, because he stops touching himself to check his phone.

"Oh. You're home on time." He throws his phone down onto the bed and sighs.

"Waita' minute," It finally registers that those are your panties he's jerking off too.

"Toji, why do you have my panties? Pervert." And to nobody's surprise, Toji gets off to that kind of stuff. He likes when you call him out.

"Hah- shit. Don't ask such stupid questions... are you gonna come over here and help me finish?" A little smirk covers your face as you walk over to the bed.

©𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

note: lmaoooo geto's got a little bit out of control

[lehguru]

THINK YOU NEED SOMEONE YOUNGER + ONE PIECE MEN

they start to realize they might be a little too old for you ft. crocodile, mihawk, smoker, shanks, doflamingo, corazon

info: will do this for other fandoms too i think, angsty on some; not proofread

crocodile never felt insecure, at least when it came to your relationship. after he left impel down and came to look for you, things got a little... weird. he was avoiding you. you knew it wasn't because he didn't want to bring you into his business (he did it more than once), it was something you didn't really understand. before you could even confront him about it, he said out of nowhere one day: "did you... get with anyone while i was away?" he looked at you with a hard stare. "someone... younger?" you almost laughed at his question, but you held yourself back. your arms circled his waist and you rested your chin on his chest. 'i don't know anyone younger that is as attractive as you, sir.' he grinned, holding the back of your head with his hand. "good."

mihawk noticed how you and zoro interacted during his time at the island. he wasn't suspicious that something was happening, he knew you would never cheat on him or break his trust; but... a thought started to spread in his mind like poison. once zoro and perona left, and you two finally managed to carry on with your married life alone, he asked you one day while you drank tea together. "how do you feel about me being... older?" you looked at him with raised eyebrows and 'the only thing that matters to me is you. i fell in love with your personality and the way you treat me, not your age.' he hummed, a deep sound that you know reverberated on his chest. even if it was faint, you could see a soft pink dusting his cheeks.

smoker didn't think about your age gap until he overheard some of the new recruits talking about you two. captain smoker having a younger partner is a little weird isn't it, was what they said. when he was back home and you were resting against his chest, softly playing with the hair on the area, he told you about it. you looked up, your eyes shining, 'old pan makes good food'. the laughter that left his lips was one that he always reserved for you, his most sincere and genuine laugh; he pressed his lips on the top of your head, murmuring praises and love confessions against your hair.

shanks really didn't care about it, not as much as other members of his crew did – with how well they knew their captain, the man would be destroyed if you decided to leave him. 'she might go for a younger guy, when your thing doesn't get up anymore.' they usually voiced their concerns in the form of jokes, so they wouldn't be too harsh on their captain, but it was effective. those comments made him start to realize what you two were – lovers. one day, without telling you, he and the crew left. simply left the island, leaving you behind with only an note written "don't look for me." in a messy manner.

one thing about doflamingo is that he gets whatever he wants whenever he wants. and since the moment he laid eyes on you, you were his. the people that tried to comment on your age gap always "mysteriously" disappeared, even if they were from inside his organization. no one could talk about him and his partner like that. if he ever brought up the topic, it was only to test if you were seeing anyone or wanted someone younger (he knows you don't. he knows everything); your praises towards him and your love always left him pleased – he would give you the same in return.

corazon is frequently insecure about your relationship. he wonders if you really love him, if he's good enough for you, if he's being a good boyfriend, if he missed any important date that he should've remembered – your age gap (made worse by your height gap too) is only another one of those concerns. no matter what you say, he often asks you if you wouldn't want to be with someone younger and with a better family than him. one day, after he asked that for the millionth time, you answered: "we can have a family of our own, rosi. you deserve happiness. you said once i made you happy, so i will stay. the only way you're going to get rid of me is if one of us is gone." he chuckled and smiled widely, as he often did around you and law, hugging you tightly against his body. 'i adore you. with all my heart and soul, i love you.'

2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!

[kenjakusbraincum]

Sukuna is old. He is also weirdly cultured for the monster that he is. With so much time on his hands, he loves indulging in arts and literature, and as with everything else he tries, he's good at it. You wouldn't know this, of course, you are only his pet. The time you spend with him is limited and hardly consists of intellectual conversation. You are there to serve one purpose and you know that quite well. So when you wake up in his bed one morning, two things come as a surprise. First that you're even here. It's one of those rare occasions when Sukuna couldn't be bothered kicking or carrying you out of his chambers once your time together was up. Second, he's awake, bent over his desk and so concentrated on a little figurine in his hand that he doesn't immediately notice you've shuffled awake. Once your eyes focus, you see that he's holding a tool in his other hand. He's carving wood. You're almost hypnotized by the scene. The scene feels so private that even for a pet like you, who knows Sukuna in the most intimate way, it feels like you shouldn't be watching. But you can't look away.

"Awake?", he asks, without sparing a glance at you. You apologize for staring, and look for your clothes around the bed. You throw them on just precisely enough to cover up until you reach your chambers, just wanting to be as quick and innocuous as possible. You wait for Sukuna's approval to leave. He gives you a simple nod, once more avoiding to look at you. You leave feeling conflicted. Special, because he allowed you to stay and watch (even as little as you did), but saddened because he barely looked at you, once more solidifying in your mind that you're only interesting to him when you're naked and bent over. As long as you've been here, you could never stop wishing for his validation.

Sukuna knows when you get insecure too. He notices the way your eyes droop, the way you close in on yourself and seem absent in his presence. He justifies this excessive worry about you by telling himself he likes to be the only thing that bothers his pets. All the way until he realized he already is the only thing that can make you sad. This realization falls upon him one time he lashes out on you and sees the immediate change of heart on your face. Now, he isn't one to apologize, especially not to someone who is as low under him as his pet. But why does he feel guilty when he sees this one act of his ruin your day? When he catches a glimpse of you sitting in the garden with your head hung low, or leaving more food on your plate than you usually do. If only you knew the way you really made him feel.

He beckons you to his chambers, and you follow three steps behind him like a good pet does. You didn't expect this time to be any different than others. You've become used to serving Sukuna on days you loved him and on days you hated him. But when he tells you to close your eyes, you know something is different. You obey, of course, and listen to his footsteps as he fetches something from the room. His hand takes yours and opens it, placing a piece of wood onto your palm. You already know, but you wait for him to allow you to open your eyes. He lightly presses his thumb on your cheek under your eye, and when you look, you find a small wooden fawn, curled up and asleep in your hands.

"Master!!..", you start, but nothing else can leave your mouth. You turn the figure around in your hand, inspecting and admiring the details. He's given you gifts before, but not ones carved by his own hand. Not ones made with love.

"You don't have to squint anymore.", Sukuna says, almost jokingly. But his face is as serious as ever as he looks at you, his muse. He thinks of the first time he's exhausted you to the point of passing out right after your nightly meetings. You were relatively new and very unsure of your safety. He thinks of your small body curled up in sleep on the edge of his bed, knees pressed to your chest in a primal, subconscious attempt to protect yourself. His little pet, his fawn.

You slur on and on about how beautiful it is, how you don't know how to thank him, the usual when you receive a gift. And as usual, Sukuna shuts you up with a kiss. You welcome it and wrap your arms around his neck, giving yourself in to him and letting him take you to the bed.

And he takes things slow tonight. He's gentle and so, so giving. Every sensation is delicate, prolonged and heightened to exhaustion. You cling to him, pull him impossibly close, and come apart under the comforting weight of him. Afterwards, you hold his hand to your face and kiss it softly. His hands, so large and strong, capable of such violence, yet for you they craft gifts, cradle, caress, love... in a very subtle and distant way, of course. With these thoughts your hands slip away from his, you turn around and quickly drift off.

He looks at you now, sleeping so close to him. Trusting him with your back, and turning your curled up form to the outside world. As if he is no longer a perceived danger. He smiles to himself in victory, and plants a chaste kiss to your shoulder to wish you one final goodnight.

[marvelfilth]

Torn (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Wanda Maximoff x f!reader

Warnings: set during AoA, kryptonian!reader, love triangle, established Natasha x reader - fwb situation, somewhat toxic!Natasha, smut, violence, jealousy

Summary: after your home planet is destroyed, you find a new home in Asgard, but when your brother brings you along to Earth, you find more trouble than you expected.

Masterlist

"F-fuck, Y/n. Right there… Yes." The woman below you pants in your ear, nails scraping down your back to grip your butt possessively.

Your hips move faster, deeper with each thrust, making her moan. "You could've told me you were coming back today," you grunt.

She digs her nails into your skin and you hiss in annoyance, slapping her inner thigh. "Do that one more time and I'm not fucking you for a week."

The spy lets out a throaty laugh that turns into a scream when your thrusts suddenly become harsh and uncoordinated, your hands pressing down her hips. Her tits bounce with each push, her perky nipples begging for attention. You look up to her tear stricken face, enjoying the sight of her reddened cheeks and bleeding lips.

"It was- fuck… u-undercover," she's breathless, stuttering, "... secret," she manages at last, pulling your face down to her breasts, knowing you still have something to say.

You're annoyed and maybe a little bit hurt, but you still let her guide you, eagerly sucking on the tender skin, grazing her nipples with your teeth.

Maybe she'll finally agree to talk to you after.

She comes with a stifled cry, hiding her face in the crook of your neck and gets up as soon as her body stops shaking.

You have a lot of things to say, but your mouth is suddenly too dry and your throat too hoarse, so you sit on the edge of your bed and watch her dress.

"Thank you," she kisses you on the corner of your mouth, lingering, nose nuzzling against yours when she pulls away.

She looks reluctant to leave and you hope she doesn't.

The door clicks shut on her way out.

×××

"No daydreaming on the mission briefings." Clint snaps his fingers in front of your face, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You blink, eyes refocusing to see everyone staring at you in question.

"What?" You ask, shifting in your seat.

"Stark wants to know if you like your new suit," Natasha asks with a smirk on her face.

You look up at the screen in front of the room and there it is - yet another heavily modified piece of clothing you undoubtedly going to destroy on your next mission.

You can admit it looks better than the previous one, the red is much deeper and the blue is not as obnoxious, but they still clash, not coming together as seamlessly as the one you wore back home, but that's the best Stark can offer and you're thankful he's even trying, so you nod in appreciation and send him a grateful smile.

"Think this one will fall apart mid flight?" Thor teases, reminding you of one of your most embarrassing moments.

It happened when you first joined the team. Tony made you wear a suit he made, claiming it was good to match with the team, so you've listened to make him happy and fit in better. It's a good thing you wore your underwear from Asgard that day.

"Now that it's settled we should move on to the purpose of this briefing," Steve waited until he had everyone's attention before continuing, "now that Thor is finally here we can finally take back the Scepter…" he continues with the details and you easily tune him out, focusing on the redhead woman across from you instead.

The corner of her lip is still quirked up, her eyes trained on Steve as he gestures to the map on the screen behind him. You look down at your hands on the table, fiddling with your thumbs.

You wish you were better at reading humans.

“You okay?” Clint leans into your side to whisper discreetly.

You nod, managing a convincing smile. “Didn't get much sleep is all.”

He glances at Natasha not so subtly, his brows furrowing. You think he's the only one who knows about the two of you, or, at least, he suspects.

“You know what you're doing, right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, not knowing at all.

×××

You're hovering over the base, looking through the walls for Scepter, when you first see her.

The girl looks about your age, you think, maybe a little younger, and she is busy talking to a silver haired man. They look too out of place, dressed like high schoolers and unbothered by the attack. You frown when the girl whispers a quiet "take care of the big guy" to the boy, your mouth dropping open in shock when he runs almost fast enough to go unnoticed by you. Almost.

Deciding it's your time to intervene you warn the team before landing in front of the back entrance, eyes trained on the girl behind the door. You don't know what she's capable of and you find yourself intrigued. The door opens with a squeak and you wince, mutterings a curse under your breath.

She's out of sight by the time you enter, but you can still hear her erratic heartbeat.

"Come out," you say, tilting your head to the right. You heard enough to know she's hiding in the shadow.

You hear her gulp before she steps into your field of view, her shoulder grazing yours as she comes to stand in front of you.

She is beautiful, you think, taking note of redness in her pupils.

"You know who we are," you wait for her to nod before continuing, "you can come with me." You offer your hand, palm up, and wait for her to decide.

She scoffs and her eyes turn redder. "What makes you think I want to?" There's red around her fingers now and you find yourself curious to find out what she can do.

You smile. "You will come with us one way or another. I'd prefer not to hurt you."

You realise your mistake as soon as the words leave your mouth.

Suddenly, there's red everywhere and you're out of the building, flying through the door to the other end of the backyard. You feel a pressing weight on your chest, and when you look down you see red wisps enveloping your body, keeping you pinned to the ground.

You look up when a shadow falls on your face.

She crouches with a smirk planted on her smug face, and moves your hair out of your face. "You can come with me," she offers, mirth in her eyes and you let out a breathless laugh, closing your eyes and tilting your head back.

"I'm afraid I have to say no," you whisper after a moment, strangely content at the mercy of your enemy.

She hums, waving her hand over you and you feel the weight disappear.

When you open your eyes she's no longer there.

×××

"You just let her go?" Natasha asks later that night, her head nestled on your chest after hours of hiding her moans in a pillow as you pounded into her.

You snort. "She's a witch, Nat, I don't think I can keep up with magic."

She lifts her head to look at you, eyes searching for something you're not even aware of. "You're the fastest person on this planet. Faster than her brother, and certainly faster than her."

You look away, closing your eyes in embarrassment. You didn't even think about your speed when you faced the witch.

You feel her get up from bed, and you open your eyes, reaching for her, "Natasha- " Her eyes flash, and you close your mouth.

She shakes her head. "She distracted you. And you let her go," she huffs and bends down to pick up her panties.

You get up and catch her wrist. "Can you tell me what's going on?" You ask, searching her eyes for an answer, but you're an alien and she's the best spy in the world so you're left even more confused.

She opens her mouth for a split second before snapping it shut. She pulls away and puts on a shirt before finally speaking, "I saw the footage."

You frown.

"Didn't know it only takes a little flirting and a pretty face to make you let an enemy go," she hisses through clenched teeth.

Your mouth drops open in shock.

"Are you-" you let out a breathless chuckle at the mere thought before finally getting yourself together, "are you jealous?"

You can hear her jaw grinding, can hear her nails dig into the soft skin of her palm.

And yet, you still can't believe what she just said.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, Natasha," you say, and a split second later you're dressed and out in the nearby field, searing up towards the sky.

You don't see her falling back into the pillow you layed on mere seconds ago, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

×××

There's a party the next day, and a part of you just wants to hop in your pod and disappear in the depths of space.

Another part of you wants to see Natasha happy and content, basking in the warmth of your arms. You know she'll never allow anyone to know about the two of you, but still, hope blossoms in your chest when you first see her go down the stairs. She moves right past you towards the bar, and you see Banner approach her with a nervous smile. His flirting is awkward and you pity the man, awaiting Natasha's response.

She flirts back.

"So… You and Romanoff?" Steve comes to stand beside you, smiling his fatherly smile, and you fight the urge to run away.

"You should tell her," he presses on, "she's not the most open person in the world, but from what I know about her, I think… there's a good chance for the two of you to be happy."

You've told her.

She doesn't like you back.

You shoot him a quick, awkward smile. "I'll think about it."

He nods, satisfied and walks up to the pair, his eyes widening when he overhears the last bit of their conversation. He winces and looks back at you, knowing you probably heard it all by now.

You shake your head at the concerned look he sends your way, and walk to sit on the couch, closing your eyes for a moment, letting your hearing go wild, listening in on an argument on the other side of the city, anything to remove yourself from this situation. The argument doesn't last too long, the engaged pair making up not even ten minutes later and you move your attention back to the party.

When you open your eyes Thor is sitting beside you, daring Clint to pick up his hammer. You sit up straighter, curious to see where it might go.

"Everyone knows it's some kind of a trick." His fingers wrap around the handle, but the hammer doesn't move an inch, much to the archers embarrassment.

Tony appears seemingly out of nowhere to make fun of Barton and you join in on the laughter, enjoying the rare moment of happiness, momentarily forgetting about your not so fun predicament.

Thor winks at you, enjoying this way more than he probably should, and hands you a bottle of Asgardian beer.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Natasha join your little game, Steve hot on her heels. She looks a little out of place, eyes laced with uncertainty when she sees an empty spot by your side. With a slight push from Steve she sits, careful not to touch you.

Banner is left standing a few feet away.

"It's simple physics," Tony grins, attempting to lift the weapon. His eyes narrow when it stays in its spot.

You rub your eyes when he decides to embarrass himself even further, calling Rhodes for backup and putting on his suit. The ridiculous game goes on, and Steve decides to try, you don't bother to watch, but then you hear metal scraping against the fine wood of the coffee table. Your head snaps up to look at Thor and immediately you know he heard it too, his eyes going comically wide for a split second before closing in relief when Steve doesn't pull harder, letting the hammer stay in its place.

"Natasha?" Banner nudges the redhead.

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your bear. You want to go and finish the drink in the solitary of your room, maybe let out a few tears, but you promised Thor you'd stay until the very end, knowing he's set to leave in a few short days.

"I don't want to know the answer to that question," she says before taking a sip of her beer.

"Y/n?" Thor invites you to try, but you shake your head no, an excuse already on your tongue when you first hear it.

The screeching is loud enough to hurt humans, but to your enhanced hearing it's pure torture. You fall to the floor, covering your ears, letting out a silent cry and Natasha is by your side immediately, pressing you into her side, trying to ground your hearing. You hiss in pain, your head feels like it's being slit open, and you think Natasha is saying something, but you can't focus on a single thing.

The next second you feel her lips against yours and the sound is gone, replaced by Natashas frantic heartbeat.

"Focus on me, baby, come on," Natasha whispers against your lips, words barely audible. You nod, trying to regain your senses.

Her kisses move lower to your chin, then to your jaw, her fingers skimping under the hem of your shirt, setting the skin of your lower stomach on fire.

"Stay with me, baby," she mumbles in your ear.

There's a fight going on around you, robots flying around destroying everything in sight, but the only thing you see is Natasha's glistening eyes as she pulls away to check on you.

Then she's pulling you up and out of the room, narrowly missing a piece of metal flying her way, your eyes flicker around and you stop in your tracks, ready to join the fight and end it in seconds, but then there's a tug on your hand.

"They'll handle it. Let me take care of you."

You nod, feeling hope blossom in your chest.

Maybe Steve's right.

×××

They handled it and now you're off to Africa, getting ready to fight a villainous robot made of vibranium. The jet is weirdly silent - Tony's sulking in the corner, unusually quiet, Steve stares him down from his seat, jaw grinding in annoyance and you wonder what happened after Natasha led you to her room. You tried to pry away, ready to run back and join on the planning, but she didn't budge, staring you down until you relented and fell against the sheets, her fingers making quick works of your belt buckle.

Now though, she's back to acting like she doesn't care, her eyes trained on the skyline and you can't even pretend you aren't hurt.

"We are close," you warn the team, already searching for the target. Your eyes lock on the pair talking to Ultron. "The twins are there, on the second floor, talking to Ultron. We need to hurry."

Natasha looks at you for the first time since you boarded the jet. "Stay away from the witch. We'll handle her."

You scoff at her tone, mildly pissed at her bossing you around. "You're ordering me around now?" you force through gritted teeth.

Her eyes narrow and she looks like she wants to say more, but Tony pushes her out of the way to jump out of the jet, Thor and Steve following right behind him, and she's left glaring daggers at your back as you hurry along.

You look for the witch the moment you land.

She's easy to find, hiding in the shadows, waiting for a perfect moment to strike, while her brother runs around wrecking havoc.

"Little witch," you call out, startling her enough to make her jump up.

Her eyes flash in annoyance, but the second she sees it's you her lips stretch in a one sided smile. "I have a name, you know."

You nod, your lips stretching into a full blown grin. You remember how your last conversation ended, but you don't care much about the possibility of her hurting you.

"I won't," she says, like she just read your mind.

You suppose she might have, she is a witch after all.

She shakes her head, letting out a huff of laughter, "There's a lot of things I can do," her eyes flash dangerously, her smile now with a hint of malice, "make sure not to cross me." She winks and turns just in time to step out of her brother's way.

You blink, cursing yourself for getting so distracted again, and dart after her brother. It is an easy ordeal, and mere seconds later you have him pinned to the ground.

"You really should let me go," he grunts against the concrete, wiggling against your hold.

"I am an alien, not an idiot," you scoff, easing your hold on him just a little.

He stills for a moment, craning his neck to take a look at you, "An alien?"

His eyes are full of wonder, and suddenly you're reminded that the two of them are young, the same age you were when you first stepped foot on Earth.

You sigh, looking around for a cage of some sort or a piece of metal to bend around the runner.

"Why are you helping them?" He asks, wonder replaced by anger. "Do you know what he did?"

There it is. An old basement with a bulletproof door.

"Making a bomb and launching it at civilians are two very different things, you know?" You quip and his eyes flash in indignation, but before he can start his rant you push him inside, locking the door and bending the metal for a good measure.

"He did some shitty things in the past, but at least he never joined the Nazis."

You walk away, painfully aware of the truth in your words. Now that you've said it out loud you're faced with the fact that the witch you've grown to like just after two short interactions is not a good person.

Shaking your head you make your way up, one down, two to go. You squint in the dark, trying to spot Ultron, but he's nowhere to be found and neither is Tony, so you mentally brace yourself to face the witch again, but the second you step on the landing you see Thor's slumped form.

"Hey!" You shake his shoulders and slap his face for good measure and his eyes open. He's blinking rapidly, like he just woke up from a long nap, his eyes glossed over.

"Y/n!" He whispers feverishly, and pulls you in a bone crushing hug. "You're okay, of course you're okay. That witch. She warped my mind," he pants, pushing you away, "You need to make sure everyone else is okay."

You look him over, and once you're sure he's not hurt you nod, pulling him up to his feet, and take off in the direction of Natasha's heartbeat.

You stop in your tracks as soon as your eyes fall on the trembling woman. Tears stream down her face, but her eyes are focused on the floor, unblinking. She doesn't move when Clint presses her into his side, doesn't flinch when he hauls her up to her feet, but when her eyes register you she jumps as if burned, clutching at Clint.

You take a step closer, your own eyes watering, but she looks like she might throw up if you move any closer.

Clint sends you a look and shakes his head, mouthing, "I've got her."

She limps past you, shaking so violently you're sure even a human can notice.

They move past you and suddenly all you see is red.

Moving faster than the speed of light you have the witch pressed against the wall, her fingers clutched in your vice grip.

She looks up, her eyes wide and terrified.

Good, you think.

"What did you do to her?" You growl in her face, pushing her into the wall with your whole body.

No way you'll let her escape this time.

Her throat constricts. "I- Her biggest fear. I showed her her biggest fear." She sinks her body against the wall, trying to wrangle her hands out of your grip. Her heart is thrumming violently and you can't tell if the tiny skip of a beat is a result of her fear or her lie.

"She'll be fine in a few hours, I swear." Her eyes lock with yours, so unbelievably green, and you feel yourself slipping away. "Just let me go," she asks, pushing her body forwards, her fingers slipping away from your hold. Her face tilts forward until your lips are almost touching. “Let me go,” she whispers. You don't see the wisps of her magic swirl around her fingers, too focused on the way her lips move. Too many thoughts swarm your brain, but you find yourself focusing on one. You want her to close the gap.

"That's right, you want me to kiss you." Her lips almost brush against yours in a gentle peck. Your grip on her weakens completely and you're enveloped in her arms. Suddenly, she's everywhere. In your arms, in your head, in your heart. "I'm sorry about this," she whispers before pushing you off the ledge.

There's red everywhere and you find yourself falling and falling…

…and falling until your back hits the ground with a painful thud.

"Y/n! Get up. Come on." Your father helps you up, tilting your head to check the injury, but you can't focus on his face, all you can see is purple.

The planet under your feet rumbles, splitting open yet again, making your father forget about tending to your bloodied forehead in favor of hauling you up over his shoulder.

"No." You push against his shoulders when you finally realize where he's taking you. "No! I'm staying with you," you cry out, wiping the tears out of your eyes.

The sight in front of you is a nightmare. A sick, deranged nightmare. You can see the man responsible for this hold up the purple stone higher in the air, another powerful wave destroying everything in its wake.

"We have to fight, dad! We have to stop him! What about mom?!" You scream until your throat hurts, but your father doesn't budge, pushing you through double doors leading to the pods.

"We will fight," he promises, putting you down. "But you… you're destined for greatness, my child. You can't die fighting a losing battle." He places a kiss on your temple, pushing a syringe into your side.

You stare at him in betrayal, fighting against him with all your might, but your limbs get too heavy and your eyes start closing on their own.

You're pushed in the pod and your father types coordinates for Asgard. "They'll treat you as their own," he chokes, trying to fight tears, "I love you, my sweet girl."

"Y/n!"

You sit up, gasping for breath, eyes darting around the room.

"Y/n, a little help!"

Tony's voice sounds from your comms and you shudder.

"I can't-" you sob, looking around you, searching for the witch, but she's long gone, and all you can do is sit in the dark and hope someone will come and get you.

"I don't know what you saw there, kid, but our green friend might chew me up any second now. I really need you," he pleads.

Your hands shake and your legs tremble as you stand up, forcing the memory to the back of your mind. You close your eyes, letting the tears fall and tear through the roof, unaware of a pair of eyes watching you leave.

[clandestineloki]

miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader (p3)

[based off of a request where a kind anon asked me 2 write one where he snapped at her, tweaked it a little bit so he's actually not mad at her but more concerned, it just came off in the wrong way]

tw: mentions of blood and wounds from shards, suggestive bit at the end

miguel whos just gotten out of the nice warm bath you made for him

having put on a tight white shirt and sweatpants, drying his hair when he hears a something breaking in the kitchen followed by a scream

he rushes to the kitchen where his dimensional jump watch is on the ground in pieces, debris all over

and you're kneeling over it, trying to pick up the bigger pieces

"shit!" he yells, kneeling down and surveying the damage. "get away from that!"

"i'm sorry!" you cry, clearly shaken. "i-it was on the table and i hit it with my elbow-"

"i know- please don't- just let me-" miguel tries to gently usher you away, but you shake your head.

"it's my fault," you cut him off. "i'll clean it up-"

"I SAID GET AWAY! THIS COULD EXPLODE SO LET ME FUCKING HANDLE IT, ALRIGHT?!"

it stuns you into complete silence, making you flinch away and lean against the kitchen counter.

miguel sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"sorry." miguel says bluntly without looking up. "just- fuck- the last time this happened it broke my nose so don't touch anything-"

he pieces the parts of the watch together, brows furrowing when he sees the tiny projector panel is missing. "what? where's the-"

shaky hands place two broken pieces of the projector panel in his hands

his brows furrow when he sees there are specks of blood on your palms

and he realizes you were trying to fix it on your own :((

he looks up and you're staring up at him with tears in your eyes, your bottom lip wobbling as your breathing quickens and the tears stream down your cheeks.

"i-i'm sorry," you whisper, and his heart shatters

"amor-"

before he can react you stand up and flee to the bathroom

"oh no," miguel leaves the watch pieces right there on the floor and follows you

he finds you at the sink

running your hands through warm water as you cry quietly

miguel feels immense guilt for yelling at you

he wraps his arms around you from behind as he looks at you in the mirror

"bebita," he whispers. "let me help you..."

you're still looking down, avoiding his gaze, and he sighs, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"bebita, i'm sorry," he mumbled. "i was scared you'd get hurt, i didn't mean to yell at you..."

you sniffle, turning off the tap. "i messed up."

"we all do," he whispers. "i messed up too, you didn't deserve that, you were just trying to help."

you shake your head, turning to face him and showing him your palms filled with cuts. "yeah, n' look what happened."

"you think too lowly of yourself, cariño," he lifts you up on the counter, taking the first aid kit from the drawer and fishing out the tweezers, some cotton and some rubbing alcohol.

he presses a kiss to your lips. "i'm not mad at you for this. i want you to know that. i had no right acting like a jackass."

you laugh softly through tears, and he smiles sadly, taking your left hand and looking for your injuries

the next few minutes are completely silent as miguel picks out the tiny shards from your palms

he kisses each palm when he's done, then pours some alcohol on a cotton ball.

"bebita, this might sting a bit. take a deep breath for me."

you start sobbing, and he looks up at you.

"bebita, i haven't even put the alcohol-"

"i'm sorry," you whimper, crying harder, and his heart breaks again.

"amor," he leans in, brushing stray hair away from your face and thumbing at your tears.

"you're very pretty even when you cry, but please don't be sad..."

miguel pulls you into a hug and you let it all out while he shushes you softly, kissing your hair and whispering words of love

patiently waiting for you to come back to him, wiping away your tears and sniffling, looking up at him with a tentative expression.

miguel smiles. "there she is," he mumbles, kissing you sweetly. "nobody's mad anymore, i know you meant well, you always do."

he kisses your nose. "i love you."

"love you too," you whisper, and he smiles.

"do you want to watch a movie with me while i clean you up?"

"mhm."

"your pick, amor. anything you want, anything-"

"can we watch top gun?"

"no."

"but you said it was my choice!"

"anything but that! you know i hate top gun!"

"we watch top gun or im not cooking paella for a month"

"BEBITA POR DIOS!"

you giggle and he sighs.

"fine. you're lucky you're the love of my life... and that i dont know how to cook my own paella."

"how about this?" miguel lifts you up in a princess carry.

"i'll watch top gun with you WITHOUT complaining if you promise to never let me yell at you like that again."

you look at him in confusion. "but-"

"promise me." he whispers.

"okay," you nuzzle into his neck. "i promise."

"good. and remind me to eat you out more often im forgetting how good you taste ;)"

"MIGUEL!!"

[clan-ackerman]

-----mdni-----

------18+-----

🩸🩸 BUTTER KNIVES🩸🩸

Human!Alastor x f!reader

blood / size kink / bitting / incorrect usage of knives / virgin reader / fucking in general / ALASTOR IS FILTHY AS HELL / porn with plot

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Your father always disapproved of him. A girl like you should never marry such man.

"A radio host? Pumpkin, you need a man who will be able to look after you when you grow old." Your father had said to you when you had gathered all your courage at dinner table one evening.

"But... I love him father..." You mumbled quietly.

"Love? You're far too young to know what love is. And besides, didn't you see at the ball how all the girls were looking at him? I can bet, that he looks at all the girls the same." Your father continued and dabbing at his moustache with napkin, cleared his throat:

"I must head out. Moon is out tonight and it's perfect for hunting. Lads will be waiting on me by now."

"Stay safe." Your mother kissed your father on cheek and saw him off. You were left sitting alone at the table, staring at your half eaten plate.

"Dont take it so hard, petal." Your mother stood next to you and gently run her hand through your hair.

"A man I respect is keeping me away from the man that my heart yearns for..." You sighed.

"Does father want me to marry someone I do not love? I'd kill myself in such marriage, mother."

"Don't even say such thing. You know your father is only looking out for you. For your future." Your mother said, trying to calm you.

"Alastor is also looking out for me." You narrowed your eyes at mother. With a hard look down at you, your mother advised:

"I think... It would be better if you did not see him anymore. Don't make your father angry, petal."

You looked up at her, not believing what she had just said.

"What..? Mama... How could you say such thing?" Your lip started to tremble. With blurry vision you looked around the table, butter knives shining in dim light. With angry huff you tried to brush your tears away and stood up, chair falling over in process. Your mother took a step back:

"Behave now." Mother said in sharp tone. You took a quick glance at the clock on the mantle piece and then bolted for the door.

"Where are YOU going at such hour?!" Your mother grabbed your hand before you even got two steps away from table.

"Clearly away from here." You spat, not breaking eye contact.

"You will sit back down, finish your dinner and go straight to bed." Your mother stated, her grip on your arm tightening. What she didn't notice, was how your other hand sneaked behind you and blindly reached for the first thing - the glimmering butter knife.

"I will not do such thing. Now. Let. Go." You said through gritted teeth.

"That's it. You insolent daughter." Your mother's hand reached up to grab your hair, but before she could do so - you were pointing the knife at her.

With wide eyes, both of you stared at the knife that was between you two.

"Mother.... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean--"

Your mother looked up at you and in one swift motion slapped you right across your face. With a cry you clutched your cheek and finally escaped the house. Leaving your mother to seeth back at the doorstep.

Quickly running down the front stairs of the house, you bolted across the yard. Ducked through the wooden fence that held your father's horses out of mother's garden, and run bare feet in the field. Trying to put as much distance between her and yourself.

When you finally had reached the other far off side of stockyard, you felt like you could breath again. Not bothering to climb over the fence you sat in the wet dewy grass and leaned against the fence pole. Distinct sounds of hunters gunshots and hound howls echoed in the forest behind.

You looked down at your hands. Right one still clutching the butter knife. From holding it incorrectly in your hand while on the run, you had accidentally nicked your fingers. New tears gathered in your eyes and you let out pathetic whimper.

"Y/n...?" You heard steps approaching on the other side of the fence on the gravel road.

"A-Alastor?" You immediately jumped up. Switching the knife from one clammy hand to other and hiding it behind your back. Now free hand, whipped your nose and cheeks, unknowingly to you - leaving red streaks across your face.

"What has my darling doe crying?" He quickly approached the fence when he picked up on your sniffling.

"Its fine, Alastor. Just had quarrel with my mother." You tried to laugh it off.

"A bloody one, as I see." He eyed you, reaching for your cheek. You tried to step away, but his warm touch was so inviting.

"Show me your hands, love." he said. He wasn't asking.

Swallowing thickly you brought both hands in front of you. Feeling like child in trouble. Trembling, and both bloody by now.

"We were having family dinner. And my father was reminiscing on the previous ball. And asked if I fancied any men there-" Alastor eyed you sharply for a second, unknowingly to you as you kept on rambling:

"-and I said that there was a man that I have had eyes for such long time, that the other men at the ball didn't even interest me. And he asked who. I said it's you. And he said that I should look elsewhere. I stood my ground and told him I love you. And he disapproved. Then mother said I should listen to him. Then she was screaming, saying I should stop seeing you. I got angry. She grabbed me. Tried to pull my hair and I... I just -I just pulled a knife at her... And then... And now I'm here..." You ranted so quickly that now you were out of breath.

With gentle chuckle, Alastor reached for your hand that was holding the knife, his ever seeing eyes, noticing the cuts on your other palm. He slowly frapped your fingers alongside his around the hilt of the butter knife and pulled both of your hands across the fence.

"When in dire straits, slice the sinew to halt movement," he murmured, gently drawing the knife across his chest. "Stab and pivot to temporarily cease motion," he directed, gesturing towards the center of his chest.

"You're wicked, Alastor..." You mumbled looking up at him.

"And you should never shed your blood. Though I am touched by your eagerness in defending your convictions concerning me, I would prefer not to witness your blood spilled, my love."

"Even if blood is such a pretty colour on you." He continued, his eyes flickering across your face. Standing up on the first wooden beam of the fence, he now stood way taller than you. Grabbing your chin he tilted your face one way, then the other.

"Since you say I'm wicked-" he gave you a cheeky smile,

"I might be afraid that your parents are correct. You should stay away from me." He looked away from you and across the field behind you.

"But I love you, Alastor..." You whispered so quietly, afraid that he might not have heard you.

"You have brought a knife in bloody hands tonight. What an odd way of confessing one's love." He bent his head closer to your face.

"What a lovely thing you are." His voice suddenly sounded sultry. It was enough for you to stand on your tippy toes and press your lips against his.

You could feel his smile against your lips. One of his hands sneaking to hold the back of your neck and pulling you closer. When that was not enough, in swift motion his legs swung over the fence and he was right in front of you. His lips never leaving yours.

It felt so right to kiss him. To kiss him felt like finally quelling an obsession. Just to feel the painful withdrawal as soon as his lips traveled to your neck to leave love bites there. Love bites that bloomed the same way as the blood splatters on your light summer dress.

His hands traveled down your back, the butter knife still in his hand. Both of you knew that no one would come down this road at this hour, but there was urgency in your actions. Desperation, almost. Your hands traveled to the front of his shirt, to get rid of the bow tie and open couple of buttons.

"The next move shan't be quite gentlemanly of me, my doe.." he was breathing hard and put the hilt of the knife in his mouth. His tongue briefly tasted your blood on it. Alastor's hands deftly gathered the skirt part of your dress and pushed you against the fence. Then raising the fabric around your hips and bunching it to the side, he grabbed the knife and pinned your dress to the fence.

"Alastor..." Your breath caught in your throat as your lower half was exposed to the cold nights air.

"Too much?" He asked, now stepping closer as his hands worked on his belt.

He clearly did intend to fuck you here. In empty field. Against a fence. In middle of the night.

"No, just perfect, you're perfect..." you breathed, hands looping around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

"Lovely." He whispered and kissed you. His hand reaching down between your legs.

"Ah..." You moaned at the first contact.

"Needy little thing you are..." Alastor sighed against your lips, feeling the wetness between your legs.

It was the first time someone else's hands were touching you down there, besides your own. Feeling was not entirely new, but the anticipation was almost killing you. Your hand around Alastor's neck tightened, pulling him down, so you could hide your face in his shoulder. Breath heavy against his neck.

His fingers deftly slid through your slit.

"How.. many...?" Alastor implied, trying to shift his face away and look at you, making him pull his hand slightly away and his fingers circling back to your clit.

"Ah.." you gasped, not hearing his question and just trying to hide your face again.

"Sweetheart..." Alastor's hand slid from your cunt and instead dug his fingers in - right where your thigh met your pussy. This finally got your attention and your head shot up to look at him. You could almost swear that you could see your own debauched image reflecting in his glasses. He tilted his head down at you, and your reflection was gone and his warm eyes were staring right into your soul.

"How many men you have sle-" before he could ask the question you were shaking your head.

"None. No one." You said. "None has touched me this way," you looked down at his hand between your legs. His pointer finger that was closest to your pussy, slowly slid through your slit once more. Your head fell back and you stared at the sky. Stars were slowly starting to appear in the night sky.

"... except myself." You swallowed. Your head feeling empty of any coherent thought. Alastor's mouth fell open slightly:

"Say the word, and I'll stop, my doe..." He leaned down to your exposed neck, and gently run his nose up and down your pulse point.

Your hand shot down and grabbed his wrist:

"I want you and you alone."

His smile against your neck was almost infectious.

"Well, then... To rephrase..." He planted slow, open-mouthed kisses against your shoulder, his free hand pulling your dress down your shoulder. He moved his lips against your ear, as if to tell you something that no one else could ever hear:

"...How many of your own fingers have you taken?" you could hear his wicked smile in his voice. And you could feel his hand moving between your legs. His middle finger slowly, almost feather lightly, circled your clit and slid down to your opening. Your breath hitched:

"A-Alastor..."

When you didn't provide him the answer, he quickly pulled his hand out of your underwear and grabbed your hand putting it up between both of you. He pressed his palm against yours and looked at your hands. You did the same. Both of you could see how his fingers shined in the moonlight from your wetness coating them.

"Tell me."

"One."

"How far?"

You were staring at your pressed together hands. He was looking straight at you, watching how your eyes showed the realization of how much bigger his hands were and how longer his fingers were.

"Second knuckle..." You whispered and your eyes met his, over the frames if his glasses.

"Oh, my little doe... I will give you so much more than that..." He chuckled and looked at your hands as his fingers interlinked with yours.

"When I kneel before you, you shall receive all I offer. Diligently." He let go of your hand and took off his glasses.

"Understood?"

You nodded. For such a gentleman, he definitely had such a filthy mouth. You'll soon learn it both ways.

"Hold these for me, will you?" He innocently asked and put his glasses on you, quite lower so you could stare over the round frames. Before you could say anything else, he was on his knees in the dewy grass, both of his hands sliding up your bare legs. His lips gently leaving kisses on your hips as he dragged your panties down your legs. You couldn't look away from him. His soft lips moving from one hip, across your stomach to the other side. His fingers running between your folds, time to time coming up to circle your clit and then tease your entrance by dipping in a fingertip.

"Mark me..." you breathed out as one of your hands slid to his hair.

"That will hurt." He looked up at you.

"You won't hurt me. I trust you, Al..." You said through a moan.

"...where...?" He quietly inquired.

God, please, everywhere.

"Here..." you gently tapped your hip. Alastor smiled, leaned closer, pressed his lips to the top of your hand and then gently bit your fingertip.

"This shall mean you're mine, my love, I hope you are preparing for the consequences that it ensues." He said against your skin as you pulled your hand away.

"I was yours as soon as our eyes locked when I saw you riding horses with the hunters all those years ago..." You moaned as his fingers circled your clit, as if he was encouraging you to finish your though. Next second, you felt his teeth sink into your skin and his middle finger plunging into you.

"Alastor! Ah.." both of your hands flew to his hair, as your hips jerked against his hand.

"Shhh.." Alastor smiled against the blooming love bite. His eyes then locked on how you were taking his finger.

"Good girl." His smiled and looked up at you. His other hand joining to circle your clit.

"Oh Lord..." You moaned. He playfully rolled his eyes at you and leaned his temple against your hip.

"Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well." He praised, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He twisted his finger and you let out a high pitch keen.

"Look at me." He straighted a little. Your eyes locked with his. Opening his mouth, he stuck his tongue out. Your eyes grew big, and a flash of warmth traveled down from your chest to your legs. Your pussy involuntary clamping down on his finger. And then his mouth was on you. As soon as his tongue got the first taste of you, his eyes fell shut and he moaned against you, sending vibrations straight through you.

"Ahh...ha...." You moaned loudly, both hands moving to his hair and pulling it. He lapped at your pussy as if he was a starving man. He sucked on your clit and then you felt a second finger stretching you open.

"Please.... Just don't stop..." You moaned, your hips jerking against his mouth. His fingers picked up the speed and your breathing did the same.

"I think I'm going to..." Your hold on his hair grew tighter and you were starting to push his mouth harder against your weeping cunt. Alastor grunted, his hand that was constantly squeezing your ass traveled down to his crotch and palmed himself. His pants growing too tight.

Alastor curled his fingers forward and sucked hard on your clit. With a loud cry you came on his fingers and tongue. You yourself could never reach such intense peak. Your toes curled, your knees almost wishing to pull together. You pressed Alastor's head closer to your dripping core, at the moment careless if he could breathe or not.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckkk..." Your eyes rolled back into your skull. For a moment you felt weightless, your hands falling away from his hair, to hold onto to the fence beams that you were leaning against.

Flatly dragging his tongue from your twitching hole up your slit to the clit, he placed chaste kiss on your mound. Alastor leaned back and looked up at you.

When you had gathered at least some wits about you, you looked down at him. His chin and lips were glistening from your cum.

"You taste sweet." He gave you a wink and licked his lips.

"Alastor..." You whispered his name and in swift motion crossed your hands and pulled the dress over your head. Leaving it hanging by the knife. Alastor was caught off guard and sat back, his hands slowly starting to unbutton his vest and then his shirt.

Was Alastor intending to fuck you against the fence or where you intending to ride him in the dewy grass?

In two quick steps you were in front of him and straddling his hips. Your lips immediately seeking out his and hands helping him to unbutton his shirt faster. With a groan he pulled away and grabbing your hand dragged it down his chest to the front of his pants. Unzipping his pants you dipped your hand in his boxers.

"Fuck..." He moaned, his eyes rolling back. You wrapped your hand around his cock and gently freed him from the confines of his pants.

"How is that going to fit...?" You blurted out when you looked down at him and gave him two long strokes.

"... perfectly..." He hissed through his teeth and threw his head back when your thumb swiped across his dripping tip. You switched your hands, and raised now free hand up to your face. Alastor looked at you through lidded eyes. Gently you licked your finger, tasting him on your skin. Seeing you do that, Alastor's hips jerked up into your fist and his eyes fluttered shut.

"Lover." He gritted through clenched teeth. His hands coming to hold your hips. You only smiled at your ability to drive him as insane and he was driving you. You slid your hand down to his base and gently squeezed.

"Cheeky little thing..." Alastor opened his eyes and pulled you in for a kiss by your neck. It was slow but messy. Tongues twisting, saliva smearing against both of your lips.

You got up on your knees and wrapped your hands around Alastor's neck. However, he grabbed your hand and wrapped it around his cock alongside his own.

"Now, now." He smiled against your lips. "You gotta learn how to take it. Put. It. In." Alastor whispered absolute filth against your lips and moved your hand so that his cock dragged through your soaked folds.

With a shaky breath you dragged his cock through your folds once more. Pausing on your clit and moaning against Alastor's lips.

"Yes... Take your pleasure..." He whispered.

Then moving his cock down, you pushed it's tip against your entrance. And then with a hissfrom your mouth, your hips were flush with his. The unknown feeling between your legs made you bite Alastor's lip. He groaned in your mouth, but didn't pull away if both of you felt the tangy taste of blood.

Alastor was patient with you, and let you decide when and how to move. But once your hips started to twitch against his, Alastor ground hips up into yours. His warm hands moved up to your back and shoulder blades to pull you closer. Your own hands tangled themselves in his dark hair and scratched down his back. By now your moans were echoing the same as the hounds of the hunters.

"Harder.. Al... Please..." You moaned against his cheek, as your hips moved up and down. Your desperate cunt twitching around his cock and making Alastor moan in your ear.

Next moment you were on your back, your legs on his shoulders as he leaned over you. Your eyes locked with his. Both of you as mirrored image to each other. Hair disheveled, foreheads sweaty, short rapid breaths. And then he was fucking you as if this is the last night out here with stars. As if the coming morning you won't stop by the coffee shop where he gets his morning dose of caffeine.

The way his cock so deliciously dragged against your walls - you had nothing in this world to compare it to. Leaking tip of his cock was carving your cunt out with every push back in, and each drag of it made you clench around him. As if to say, that you need him back in and not let him pull out.

You grabbed Alastor's cheeks:

"I'm in love with you...." He said first, as if he had read your thoughts on what you were about to say.

"I love you." You smiled back and pulled him in for a kiss that was broken by your moan as Alastor gave harsh thrust, hitting your cervix. Making you lose your breath momentarily.

"More.. please..." You begged, your cunt twitching around him.

"Fuck..." Alastor moaned, his hips taking on harsher and faster movements. You could swear that you felt him in your guts. Your hand traveled down your stomach and pressed on the outline of his cock. He smirked at you, as if saying that no other cock will ever be this deep, no one ever will pleasure you the same way.

"You're mine..." He groaned. Letting your legs off his shoulders, he pulled your lower lip with his thumb until your mouth opened and he could slide his finger in. Your tongue latched around his digit and sucked hard, making him stutter in his movements as he wondered how to use that mouth of yours in other ways.

With press on your tongue, your mouth opened once more, Alastor pulled his finger out and dived in to kiss you. Your tongues meeting before your lips could. You moaned in his eager mouth as his wet thumb now circled your clit. Your hips raising to meet his thrusts. When your wandering hands were enough for him, he grabbed them and pinned both of them above your head.

"Keep them there..." He said breathlessly and leaned back lifting your hips with his.

He was fucking you like drowning animal would fight for air. And the pleasure was rapidly pulling both of you under. The way your cunt clenched around him more and more frequently, was a sign that you were close. As if not being able to stand not touching him, your hand raised to rest on his stomach, feeling the lean muscles flexing there.

Not wanting to soil you on your first sexual encounter, Alastor was ready to pull out when your legs wrapping around his hips locked him in place. Sliding his hands up your legs and then sides, he leaned over you.

Your orgasm approached you unknowingly, as such intense feeling you have never felt before.

"I got you. Just let go." Alastor said against your chest as his forehead rested against your collarbone. With a moan that stole all your breath - you came. Alastor's name tumbling out of your lips like the sweetest honey. Your body arched off the ground and pressed against Alastor. Not knowing what to do with your hands as all nerve ends felt like going haywire, you opt to grab Alastor's hips and, as if your legs being locked around him wasn't enough, you pulled him against you.

Corrupting such sweet doe as yourself felt so rewarding. He could almost feel your orgasm on his tongue. Perhaps that was just taste of your cunt that kept lingering on his tongue. His own hips stuttered and with deep groan he came deep inside you, his teeth latching on the side of your left breast, leaving another love bite to remind you of this night of debaucheries.

For a moment neither of you moved. Still ongoing gunfires of hunters and howls of hounds could be heard echoing, meaning that hunt was still on. And you could return home without your father seeing you here.

Alastor wrapped one hand around your back and gently laid you back on ground.

"I must beg your pardon. A lady such as yourself ought never to be deflowered in such a place for the first time." He said quietly against your soft breasts that were still raising and falling in short breaths.

"Oh, hush. I enjoyed myself very much so." You took a deep breath trying to steady your breathing. Alastor looked at you and you smiled at him. Gently running your hands through his hair in order to tame it.

Steadying himself on his hands, Alastor pulled out and couldn't help but to stare at your cunt that was already leaking his cum. Catching him staring, ought to teas him a little bit. Bending your legs you spread them open. Gaining Alastor's attention, you trailed one hand down your body and dipped your fingertips in your folds. Shyly looking to the side you spread your folds, making more cum leak out. Alastor was watching your hand like it was a prey.

"Darling-" Alastor warned as his lashes fluttered. He leaned to kiss your knee instead. Fighting so hard not to take your overstimulated body the second time.

"We should talk in the morning." Alastor got up with a sigh, tucked himself away and walked over to the fence to retrieve your dress.

You quietly got dressed, not questioning anything. You weren't sure what we're you to say in such moment. While you were getting dressed you couldn't help but stare as Alastor was putting on his shirt. His skin on the back scratched by your nails. Or how the fingers you had cut had smeared blood all over his body.

"Shall I escort you home?" Alastor turned to you.

"No. It's late, we both should be getting home and to bed. And besides, I know this field like back of my hand." You shook your head.

"Alright." Alastor tilted his head to the side and smiled. He walked up to you and gently took off his glasses from you.

"Not a scratch. Good girl." He praised you, leaning down to your eye level. Your cheeks immediately flushed red and you quickly pressed your lips against his.

As he watched you walk back home, you couldn't help the smile that was on your lips. The faithful butter knife clutched carefully in your hands, will be neatly stored in your vanity as a reminder.

Meanwhile Alastor was sitting on the fence, watching you walk away, with skip in your step. Once you were far enough, he hauled himself over the fance, back on the road. What you had not seen at the very beginning, was that Alastor had come with knive of his own. Quite menacing butcher knife, that he had wedged in the nearby tree.

You were almost home. You had just ducked through the fence and walked quietly across the yard when, one, so much differently sounding gunshot, made you turn back around and stare at the field where you had come from....

-----------

Part 2?

[unclewaynemunson]

It wasn't the first time Eddie woke up to an empty bed after having someone spend the night. But it for sure was the first time it caught him by surprise.

He had been pretty sure things were different, with Steve. There was a real, proper date before they ended up in Eddie's bed together, after all. They held hands, they cuddled, they did all the romantic shit that Eddie used to scoff at and skip right past, before he got to know Steve Harrington. It hadn't felt like it was just about the sex: there had been tender touches and sweet words and soft kisses, and falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards had felt more intimate than anything Eddie had ever experienced before. So it didn't make sense to wake up and see no trace of Steve. No note, not a single piece of evidence that Steve had been there, not even something as dumb as a forgotten sock. Nothing.

As he went through his morning ritual of coffee, cereal and cigarette, he felt confusion make place for anger. By the time he was dressed and looking at himself while brushing his teeth in front of the crappy old bathroom mirror, he wondered how he could ever have been stupid enough to think that Steve would stay. The realization that Steve had apparently only used him to get what he wanted and dropped the act as soon as that happened, made him feel gross. He spit out his toothpaste with way more force than necessary and jumped in his van to tell Steve exactly that Eddie wasn't the kind of guy who tolerated being toyed with like that.

-----

When Eddie barged into Family Video, Steve was standing at one of the shelves with a big pile of tapes in his arms, the store empty and quiet except for some movie playing on the big screen in the background.

He looked up at the sound of the bell, and actually had the audacity to smile a soft, almost tender smile when he saw Eddie coming in.

"Hey there."

And, well, that truly did it for Eddie.

"Hey there?!" he repeated in a loud, shrill voice. "Seriously, Steve? What the hell, man? You sneak out of my bed after making me think what we did actually meant something, and now you greet me with a "hey there" like nothing has even happened?!"

Steve frowned; he looked genuinely surprised. Seriously, had none of the dozens of girls he probably pulled this on ever told him off? Or were they all worth staying for, contrary to Eddie the Freak Munson?

"Wha- What do you mean, making you think it meant something?" Steve stuttered. "It meant something. At least," he shrugged lightly and his cheeks colored into a light shade of pink, "to me it did."

For obvious reasons, Eddie found that a little bit hard to believe.

"Then why the hell did you sneak away at the crack of dawn like it was just some goddamn one-night stand?!"

Steve stared at him for a couple of seconds, his mouth falling open. Eddie had seen him look confused plenty of times before, but never like this - like he was missing something huge.

"I - I was allowed to stay?" Steve finally uttered. And it sounded so genuine, so small, so lost... All Eddie's anger easily got knocked out of him with that one question.

"You thought you weren't allowed to stay?" he asked, in a much softer voice this time.

Steve shrugged, suddenly avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Yeah, I mean... I just assumed..." He swallowed visibly, seemingly searching for words. Finally, he fixed his eyes back on Eddie's face. "You actually wanted me to stay?" It sounded equal parts confused as hopeful, and the look in his brown eyes was so soft and innocent that it almost broke something inside of Eddie.

"Why the hell did you think I wouldn't?"

"I dunno, I just thought..." He looked away again, to a point just behind Eddie's shoulder as he continued, "Whenever a girl would come to my place, they'd always leave right after we finished. Or when I'd come to theirs, they'd have me leave through the window before their parents would notice. Some of them wanted to cuddle for a bit afterwards, but not, like, the whole night, y'know."

"Fuck, Stevie... I -" Eddie could barely believe what Steve was saying; it truly blew his mind that there were so many people who could have Steve Harrington in their bed and not want to keep him there forever. It made him furious - not at Steve, obviously, but at those girls who had made this perfect boy believe that he wasn't the kind of person people would want to keep around for what came after the sex.

"Falling asleep with you last night... That was the best thing that ever happened to me," he told Steve. It felt vulnerable, to say it out loud, but he knew he had to get it all out in the open. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the things we got up to before falling asleep were also pretty damn mind-blowing..." He couldn't help but chuckle. "But of course I wanted you to stay. I thought that would speak for itself."

"Oh," was the only thing Steve said, just blankly staring at Eddie for a couple of seconds. Then, his eyes widened as Eddie's words finally seemed to sink in. "Shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay," Eddie cut him off. "Can you uh," he nodded towards the video tapes in Steve's hands, "Put those away, please?"

Steve placed the pile on the shelf behind him and Eddie immediately launched himself into his arms, pulling him as close as humanly possible without crushing his bones.

With a surprised Oomph! Steve took a few stumbling steps backwards before he caught his balance again, and hugged Eddie back just as tight.

"I'm really sorry, I messed up," he said, his mouth close to Eddie's ear. "I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have left, seriously. I would've called in sick and made you pancakes, and I would've stayed with you in bed all day."

"It's okay," Eddie repeated. "I mean, it's frankly ridiculous that you'd assume I wouldn't want you around every single fucking morning from now on, but -"

"So can I make it up to you tonight?" Steve interrupted him, an eager undertone to his question. "Or actually tomorrow morning, I guess?"

Eddie leaned back slightly to see Steve's face. He was hesitantly smiling at him, and Eddie gave him a beaming smile in return. Then, he leapt forward again to press an impetuous kiss against Steve's lips.

"How 'bout you make it up to me every day from now on, big boy?"

"I dunno, making you pancakes every day from now on is a bit much, don't you think?"

Eddie laughed. "Then the deal's off, sorry."

"What if we take turns?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Alright, I think I can live with that," he finally concluded, letting Steve pull him closer again to steal another kiss. And as long as he could taste Steve's lips, he couldn't care less about pancakes.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Herschel Has Discovered Tool Use. Again.

In january of 2021, deep in the throes of pandemic psychosis, we acquired a Corgi Puppy.

I would like to go on the record that we did not get a Corgi because they're cute. We got a Corgi because they're criminally brilliant and enthusiastic working dogs that were bred to bully cattle, which is the exact temperment a dog living in a house with three ADHD adults should have. Herschel does commit a lot of crime, but he also does his appinted service-dog job of "make everyone wake up, eat meals and go to bed at a reasonable and consistent time" extremely well, as well as his bonus jobs of "Keep the squirrels the hell out of the garden" and "Yell every time the cat does something". I didn't actually ask him to do that last job but it has helped in the "teach the cat to stay the hell off the stove" area.

But even with having a whole pack of humans another dog, and a cat to manage, this pales in comparison to his genetic capacity to manage several hundred sheep or cattle across the fields of Wales, and thus, Herschel has decided on further intellectual pursuits to occupy himself, namely, speedrunning the early phases of human tool use and terraforming.

I realized he has the brains of an entire hunter-gatherer tribe shortly after he got fixed, and within 24 hours and still dpey from anesthesia, he'd figured out that his plastic cone could be used to monopolize the water bowl and his favorite chew toys, and within a week, had learned how to carry three toys at once while leaving his mouth open by tucking the toys behind his enormous ears and under his chin. He also figured out that he could wiggle the cone to rest against his shoulders, and started using it as a shovel by literally running the bottom edge into the ground. But that wasn't making holes effeicently enough, apparently, and I ended up watching him figure out how to rotate the cone around so the two pieces of overlapping plastic were under his chin, then use his chin and the stairs to the deck to pinch both ends into a much more efficient V-Shape that let him gouge huge strips of dirt up in seconds. The anthropologists and animal behaviorists in the audience may recognize this as Tool Creation, a behavior normally only seen in higher primates, crows, and some parrots. Once a hole of suitable length, depth and temperature had been achieved, he very carefully rolled the cone around so the digging side was over his head and the smooth side under his chin, and splooted into his hole to cool his little tummy and stitches off. It was at that point that I realized that I was going to have to teach him how to garden, or he was going to teach himself.

He no longer has the cone (He was beginning to experiment with it as a battering ram), but his morning ritual is now "Wake everyone up at 8AM by screaming, locate everyone in house and jam my nose up theirs to make sure they're alive, go outside and scream at the squirrels. Now that Yard is Secure, go get Fun Parent who has hopefully taken their meds by now, and supervise them while they rifle through the plants (this is apparently KEY to their mental health), eating any pest animals Fun Parent points out, chase squirrel AGAIN, go inside and get Breakfast cookie." and BY GOD if we deviate from it there will be much screaming and destruction. If I am not home, it has been reported that he walks round the garden beds and sniffs the plants in the order I usually check them in before he will agree to come in. He doesn't quite know what the deal with the melons is, just that they need to be checked.

But we're out of the labor-intensive parts of gardening and now into Harvesting Season, and this is a bit boring except when I give him snap peas right off the vine, and he has decided to work on the complex physics problem that is Doorknobs.

And last week, he had a breakthrough.

Sometime in 2020, my mom sort-of taught her horrible crime herding dog Arwen how to open the back door so she could let herself out as she pleased during the day and stop interrupting Mom's Zoom calls. Arwen is a Kelpie, which means she's about 60lbs with full-length legs and horrible monkey paws that are one joint away from being hands, so when Arwen wants to open the back door, she sits up, leans on the door for purchase/to push it, and uses her terrible crime hands to *push* on the knob until it turns. She can pull the knob open by pawing and catching it on her toes, but she's 11-13 years old now and has mild arthritis, so she prefers to catch it on her central pad instead. She taught Charlie, the other equally brilliant but less criminally inclined dog, to do this but he doesn't like to go outside alone, so he rarely does this.

Herschel, ever the observant student, immediately tried copying them, but even though he is actually tall enough to reach the knob, his toes are just too stubby to get a decent grip on the knob, pushing or pulling, and the first few times, gave up and sat down to scream until one of the fullsize dogs or humans came to open the door for him.

Last week, we were up at my parent's again, and I watched him hunt around the living room until he found his slightly-sticky orange rubber ball (It's clean, it's just a kind of rubber that's always a bit tacky), carry it across the house, stand up on his hind legs at the back door, put the rubber ball on top of the gap between the knob and the wall, and then push down on the ball, which caught the doorknob and turned it for him, thus opening the door. He let himself out, had a merry time yelling at the squirrels, came back in, stopped a few feet inside the door, went back out, grabbed his ball, and brought it back into his kennel, a place he can leave toys if he doesn't want the other dogs playing with them.

This means he somehow worked out how doorknobs work, how fucking levers work, and that his orange rubber ball specifically was the one that would work (none of his other toys are the correct size/texture), that he'd need that ball specifically to open the door again, and yesterday he did the same trick with the bedroom door, so he knows that the rubber ball/skeleton key can be used on all doorknobs, not just that one.

I wonder if I can teach him to sweep.

___

If you want to fund Herschel's research into Tool Use and/or get me therapy for the ensuing chaos, please feel free to donate to my Ko-Fi, or get further Dog Content by subscribing to my Patreon.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Playing with his nerves

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader (y/n)

Warnings: once again..SMUT!!!

The door closes behind you as you enter the apartment carrying the PR package that the delivery man just brought to you. You pass through the living room with it where Charles was casually lying on the couch watching TV and enjoying his time off.

"What's that?" He asks stopping you.

"Oh, just some PR package that I got." You nonchalantly say hoping he won't drop the subject.

"For promotion?"

"Mhm." You mutter nodding your head.

"Well, what's in there?"

"Just some lingerie" You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling before you quickly disappear into your bedroom.

"What-? Some what?" It's like your words jolt him and he immediately gets up from the couch and follows after you. "Y/n?" But by the time he reaches the bedroom, you already locked yourself in the bathroom stripping the clothes you were in down and putting on the new set.

"Y/n, open the door" He says banging on the bathroom door.

"In a minute!" Putting your hand over your mouth so that he doesn't hear you laughing, it takes everything in you to pull yourself together and to proceed with the plan you came up with.

Although it was true, they really sent you a two-piece set of red lace lingerie. You didn't really mean to show yourself in that to the whole world, but you wanted play with Charles for a bit and to spice things up knowing that he would go crazy over it.

"You're going to promote lingerie? Take pictures of yourself in it? I hope I got it wrong, y/n." You can already feel the anger building up in his voice, and he hasn't even seen you yet.

Charles sits on the armchair nervously tapping his foot up and down impatiently waiting for you. Minutes later you unlock the door showing yourself in a two piece red sheer set leaning against the door frame and arching your back.

"Oh fuck me.." He sighs under his breath running his fingers through his curls. His brows were furrowed and lips slightly parted at the sight of you.

"What do you think? Looks good? You think it fits me?" You ask provocatively moving closer to him swaying your hips, his gaze never leaving your body. That red sheer lace bra and panties fit you perfectly, hugging your body in all the right places it looked like it was custom made for you.

"I think it looks pretty good. You can help me take the pictures in it if you want to." You slowly straddled him sitting in his lap. He laid back into the armchair admiring you up and down as you positioned yourself on his crotch that was growing by the second. You wrap your arms around his neck and teasingly slow start to rock back and forth against him.

"I think everyone's jaws will drop when they see me in this, no?" He was speechless, all you could hear from him was his heavy breathing. You had all the control over him, but that didn't last for long.

"Ahh" You hiss as his hands find your waist, his fingertips leaving white prints on your skin from how tightly he gripped it.

You could feel his temperature rising with every word that left your mouth. His gaze was angry, but full of lust for you. You knew exactly what you were doing. Getting him mad hard, you knew how to do it best.

"You don't know what you just got yourself into. You better stop talking now." It feels like forever since he said anything. He makes you wrap your legs around him as he stands up with you and walks you over to the bed roughly throwing you down.

"You really think I'd let you post a picture of yourself wearing this?" He asked as he took off his t-shirt and pants tossing them to the side before hovering over you. "Cause if you do, fuck baby, then you're even crazier than I am." He attaches his lips to your neck sucking on it, then slowly starts making his way down your body leaving sloppy wet kisses all the way down to your panties.

"You think you can forbid me things?" You dare to ask.

And he could. You knew he could, there was no arguing about that. You just wanted to push his buttons.

"Oh, just watch me." He chuckles pushing the sheer material aside gliding his fingers over your wet pussy. You grip the sheets as his long fingers enter you pumping in and out making you buck your hips up begging for more.

"Charles.."

"Look at you. Already clenching around my fingers, and I haven't even fucked you yet." The pace of his fingers quickened while his other hand grabbed your butt. You were a whimpering mess beneath him. You loved it when he took control, it turned you on, he could make you cum just by his words.

You felt yourself getting closer and just when you wanted to cum all over his fingers, of course, he pulled them out you bringing them closer to his lips and licking them clean.

"So sweet"

"No.." You cry out squinting your eyes. He doesn't give you time to complain but quickly turns you over so that your butt is on full display for him. He collects your hair into a ponytail pulling on it and grinding his hard cock against your butt as you arch your back for him.

"I can't wait to shove my dick inside you. It's so fucking hard. You feel it? I'm gonna ruin you for being such a brat." He groans into your ear. You try to grind your hips against the mattress to get any kind of the friction to your throbbing clit.

"Please, Charles, please" You sounded pathetic. You don't remember the last time you needed him as much as you do now. You don't know what you just got yourself into. You remember the words.

He did warn you tho.

" I'm sorry I can't hear you over all the noise you're making. You want me to fuck you? Hm?" You don't even have to turn around to know that he had a smug smirk on his face watching you struggle like this.

"Oh fuck" You wince at harsh spanks across your ass that echoed through the room.

"Red prints of my hand on your ass look too good with this set. They match the shade you know? You wanna show them how you're taking me like a big girl?" He growls. He was getting impatient to bury himself deep inside you.

The sight of you lying so helpless and moaning his name was driving him crazy so he turned you over on your back again and without any hesitation he thrust into you. You were drenching him, he could literally hear how wet you were from slapping of your skin. Gasping into each others mouth both of you drunk off of pleasure, he wrapped his hand around your neck.

"You look so good like this. When you're struggling to breathe underneath me, fuck, it makes me go wild. You like it when I fuck you hard don't you?" He asks and you nod digging your nails into the skin on his back.

"You could've just asked me then, you don't have to play with my nerves every damn time" He says through gritted teeth, clenching his jaw. The smirk on your face outrages him.

"Oh you think that's funny?" He asks slamming into you as hard and as far as it goes hitting your deepest spot making you wince in pain.

"Fuck Charles, it hurts" You cry out and regret provoking him in a heartbeat.

"Then better start behaving." His movements were slowly starting to get sloppier, holding back and waiting for you was getting too difficult. Both of you were panting, moans escaping your lips, beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. "I'd love to finish inside you like every night, fuck, but since you wanna promote this, I'll just have to cum all over that red bra and panties you know?"

Your breath was hitching with his every thrust, your walls starting to clench as you creamed all around him. Him hearing you scream out his name and seeing your eyes roll back sent him over the edge and he quickly pulled out of you cumming all over you just like he promised to.

"Fuuuckk ahh.." He was growling out loud while jerking himself off watching his cum spray all over. "You can take pictures now before you hand that set over to me."

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hey did you get my ask/request of Alastor and Wife!reader having an argument and Alastor says something horrible to her leaving him to have to make up for it?

I did, I just have a lot of stuff in my inbox

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being in the DOGHOUSE

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor doesn't mind fighting, likes to bicker with and irritate those around him as some strange show of dominance

But his wife is an exception, he hates fighting with his wife and goes to great lengths to avoid it

Despite his efforts, you two do still fight from time to time and he hates it, he tries so hard to reign in that cruel part of him

He doesn't really even remember what started the fight, probably something dangerous he did that upset you

Something like the Adam stunt

And he probably tried to brush it off, his pride not letting him admit that your fears were warranted

You were understandably getting worked up over his dismissal, and he was getting irritated that you wouldn't just drop it

Everyone else in the hotel had scattered and hidden the moment you two started to uncharacteristically raise your voices at each other

Angel had to grab Niffy to stop her from watching the entire argument play out

He just doesn't want to scare you with the idea of losing him, he wants to be your strong, invincible husband

It makes him uncomfortable that you see beyond the powerful overlord demon and instead zero in on the man beneath it all

"Darling, I would understand your fears if I hadn't come back to you in one piece, but I'm here. With you. Perfectly fine."

You could rip your hair out due to frustration, almost in tears, how could he not understand how you felt?

"Alastor! That's not the point! You can't be so reckless! It's not just you that you have to worry about anymore! You have a wife! You have to live and be safe for me!"

He fears a pang of anger over being told what to do, rage and irritation over the unintentional reminder of his failure to win

Which makes his mind wander to his deal, his fucking leash

The words are out of his mouth before he even realizes what he's saying

"If I knew that everything I do had to be approved by you then, I would've rethought this whole marriage ordeal."

Alastor regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, his ears folding back at the sight of your hurt expression

Your eyes have tears in them but you're doing your best to hold them in, turning on your heel to leave the room

"Wait-Darling, I didn't-"

"Just...give me some space, Alastor."

He regrets it so much, watching you walk away from him when he should be begging for forgiveness

He hates seeing you so upset but he hates being the reason for it even more

Alastor tries to give you the space you asked for, but it's difficult when all he wants to do is make up with you already

But he also doesn't want to actually talk about what happened

So he breaks fairly easily when he sees you again, coming up behind you and hugging you

Only to be shrugged off when he goes for a small kiss, left with a sinking feeling in his stomach

"I said to give me space, I'm not ready to talk to you yet."

Normally, Alastor loves it when you're cruel and cold, finds it a little hot, but when it's aimed at him? He hates it so fucking much

Literally looks like a kicked puppy when you walk away from him again, Charlie and Vaggie looking at anything but him

"You know what, Charlie? I do see that crack in the wall!"

He tries again later, sitting next to you and trying to wrap an arm around your shoulders while the radio bursts to life with a love song

Only to be rewarded with an ill hidden sniffle and you immediately getting up to walk away from him

"If you're not going to apologize and have a genuine conversation with me then don't even bother."

It's driving Alastor crazy not being able to be with you, to not be able to properly make up with you

But he still doesn't want to admit he messed up or have that uncomfortable conversation with you

So he tries lavish gifts and other romantic gestures that all get rejected or given to Niffty to do whatever she wants with them

"Yay!! I'm going to poison these and give them to the mother bugs!!"

Okay...maybe Angel should have these...

Alastor is starting to understand that he can't just gloss over this one

He understands it a little more later that night when you go to bed without him, and he's left too nervous to follow after you

Several hours into the night, the guilt eats at him and he breaks, sneaking into the bedroom

You're awake, your eyes red rimmed from crying but you manage to give him a glare before turning your back to him

"Darling, I believe I owe you an apology..."

The way your tense body relaxes is all he needs, crawling into bed with you and pulling you to his chest

It's a difficult pill for him to swallow, so it's easier for him to have these conversations with you like this

He doesn't want you to see his weakness even when he's laying it out for you

Luckily, Alastor is good with his words and you're willing to listen now that an apology is on the table

It's a long conversation that leaves you both sleepless and emotional in each other's arms

But things are settled and Alastor is forgiven, happy to be back in your good graces

He tried to be strong and hold himself back, he really did... but being without the warmth of your love was torture for him

It was a rough couple of hours for him

HA WHIPPED

"Angel, shut the fuck up before you get yourself killed!"

He's extra clingy and romantic with you for DAYS afterwards, making everyone else at the hotel practically nauseous

Except for Charlie, of course, she loves it

He's just so relieved that you've forgiven him, still disgusted with himself for even saying what he said

Asks you for yet another kiss that morning before Husk finally walks away, annoyed by Alastor's neediness

You don't mind your husband's clingy antics, enjoying the extra attention he's giving you

You should get mad at him more often